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Wow. Madison was using that word a lot lately, but she was also starting to understand the Marcel Proust quote Alice had kept in her kitchen window. "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."
Speaking of which . . . She faced Logan. Now that she'd officially turned over responsibility for her charge, she had one goal. As she covered the few steps between them, she removed the glasses and unclipped her hair, so it fell to her shoulders. She also stepped out of the pumps so she was barefoot.
When she reached Logan, leaning against his workbench, arms crossed over his chest, she didn't consider any other options. She sank to her knees.
The movement brought an uncanny sense of what she'd seen in Troy when he was turned over to his Mistress. Relief, comfort. A feeling that only increased when Logan put his hand on her head, stroked her hair, as if her kneeling before him was as natural to him as it had felt to her. She didn't want to wait for that pain session. She craved it now. She didn't want to wait for tomorrow when all her ridiculous doubts and insecurities might return, her baggage. Though Logan might be right, that the baggage was what had brought her to him, it was still a pain in the ass.
She wanted to let him know all that in a language he understood, a language she wanted to understand more fully.
"I've misbehaved, sir," she murmured.
His russet eyes kindled in that way that made her want to sigh happily. He understood and agreed. He wasn't going to deny her. She savored the reaction, since she had a feeling it might turn to terror in short order.
"You sure as hell have. The consequences will be severe."
Pulling a cushion from the bottom shelf of the workbench, he dropped it on the floor next to him. "Sit there. Watch Troy's punishment, while I think of the best kind for you."
She shifted to comply, putting her knees on the cushion and sitting back on her heels. As she did so, he caught her loose hair in his fist and jerked her back up onto her knees. She had no time to gasp at the rough movement before he'd claimed her mouth, his tongue tangled with hers, the heat telling her all he'd been hiding behind that facade. When she started to grab hold of his thighs for balance, he growled in her mouth, forcing her to lower her hands, rely on that pull on her scalp for balance. His act of pure possession wrapped like invisible bonds around her body, making the dampness between her thighs become gushing wetness. It was her body's primal response, readying herself for him and him alone.
When he at last released her, he lowered her inch by inch back to the cushion so she was sitting on her heels again. Once there, his burning eyes lingered on her face, his mouth hard. She knew she was trembling. "Watch the Mistress work," he said softly.
It was difficult to watch Shale when all she wanted to do was look at Logan. Especially when she saw he was sporting a sizeable, mouthwatering erection under his jeans. She didn't know if it had been provoked by the kiss, her decision to abandon her Mistress experiment, or because she'd been touching Troy and it was some kind of primitive, chest-beating, testosterone reaction that shouldn't thrill her modern female mind but absolutely did. Whatever the reason for his impressive response, she appreciated the results to the point it was hard to tear her gaze away.
But he'd commanded her to watch Shale and Troy, so she did. She curled her hand around his calf, though, hoping he wouldn't tell her she couldn't touch him. He didn't.
During the kiss, she'd been vaguely aware of the harsh clap of the paddle, Troy's grunts of pain. When she turned her attention back to them now, Shale had set the weapon aside and reclaimed the plastic ruler. Picking up the other children's chair and giving it an artful twirl in one hand, she pointed to the floor with the other. "Lie down, face up."
Troy complied, and Madison had a glimpse of the red marks Shale had left on his buttocks, painful-looking strikes with the paddle that made Madison wince but which she saw hadn't diminished Troy's aroused response at all. Though she hadn't yet experienced it herself, she was getting a good idea of why it could make a certain kind of submissive even needier, craving more. As her ass rested against her heels, she wondered if, before night's end, she'd have her own marks to show. The crazy thing was, she was pretty sure she wanted that. And she wanted Logan's hand to be the one wielding the blows.
Shale put the chair over his head, the front legs planted on either side of his neck, the back ones just clearing his crown. The cross piece that stabilized the bottom of the chair was over the bridge of his nose, effectively holding his head in place, especially when Shale took a seat on it. Madison noticed that she paused before she did so, looking toward Logan. Glancing up, Madison saw her Master give the Domme an imperceptible nod. He'd said the chair could hold an adult, but Shale was likely confirming.
Safety always came first. It was a tribute to their confidence in their roles that it didn't dilute the thrilling, anxious feel of being under their control. It simply kept the not-erotic feelings of true fear out of it. Madison's analytical mind worked on that, even as her subconscious used it as all the more reason to fall under Logan's spell. A win-win, right?
Taking a seat on the chair, Shale planted one booted foot on Troy's upper abdomen, such that Madison saw a red impression gather around the pointed heel. Shale leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder as she stroked his chest. "Look at that hard-on. Shameful. All for Miss Fine. I think we'll be homeschooling you from now on."
"No, not for her, Mistress. For you. Because you were watching."
"I didn't give you permission to talk." Shale brought the ruler down in a sharp slap on his lower abdomen. He jerked, his hands flexing at his sides, a breath whistling out between his teeth.
"Spread your legs. Stretch out your arms as well."
He did it without hesitation, exposing his testicles and sheathed cock to her. When she brought the ruler down, hard, it slapped his inner thigh about five inches below that area. He flinched but didn't move otherwise, his arms out to his sides, palms open.
Shale did it again, and Madison was impressed with her control, because she never came closer than a hand's span to his genitals, though she managed to hit the same spots a few times. Madison expected his mind registered it as much closer, since he couldn't see anything but the bottom of the chair.
Shale looked stern, far more punitive than Miss Fine. Madison glanced up at Logan. His face was expressionless again, but she didn't sense any concern for Troy. She shifted her attention back to the tableau before them because, no matter the uncertain roiling in her stomach at how Troy took his punishment, she couldn't deny she was captivated, and by far more than the sexual component. Though he couldn't see her, it was as if Troy's gaze was fixed on his Mistress. The look on his face matched something Madison understood deep inside. Yet his look took it to a more profound level, because he was farther along that road than Madison. He would truly do anything Shale desired. He trusted her with everything. He had utter faith in her control over him.
It was something she'd rarely seen reflected on any adult face, including her own. How long had it taken Shale and Troy to reach that point together? What would happen if it ever turned in the wrong direction, the relationship ending? Troy and Shale were relatively young. How did one recover from such a loss? Trust her to think of that.
Shale stood up, removing the chair, but laying it on its side. "Step into this space."
The supporting pieces beneath the chair formed an open square. Troy rose and stepped in one foot at a time, the opening small enough he had to work first one foot and then the other under the slats, so the chair was a wooden manacle around both his ankles. If Shale wanted him to move forward, he'd have to do it with a very short shuffle, several inches at a time.
"Spread your feet as far as you can, then bend over and grab the sides."
Madison noticed that Shale kept her hand on his back throughout. She was positioned to steady him if he lost his balance. This, despite the fact that cruel expression on her lovely features never altered. When he bent over, spreading his thighs the few inches possible, she reached between them and gripped his testicles, squeezing hard enough to earn a groan from him. She brushed her knuckles over those reddened rectangular areas where she'd slapped him with the paddle.
"Tonight, I'll lock you in your new cage. You can listen to me bring myself to climax with my vibrator. If you stay still and quiet, you might earn the right to lick me clean afterward. Or maybe not. You were too eager to play with your little friend. I'm going to fuck you with my strap-on before I go to work in the morning, so when Logan sees you, he'll know you have a sore ass, because you had to be reminded who owns it." She released him. "Straighten up."
