Working Out the Kinks (Chain) Read online

  “Look at me,” he warned. “I won’t say it again.”

  I sat there, afraid to move but knowing that I needed to. When I felt him glide out of me again, I went back to my rhythm and hooked my gaze to his, feeling afraid to even blink. The tiny spark inside the pit of me began to grow higher and higher. His fingers had slicked, and they were just the perfect pressure I needed.

  “Everything Whitney does is done with my permission,” he explained, his voice low and deep. “She speaks with my permission. She walks and crawls with permission.”

  He leaned into me, and I rubbed myself even harder when he picked up speed.

  “She comes with my permission, Alexandra.”

  This time, his warning was clear. I was not allowed to climax without him telling me so. Mentally I prepared myself for what could be the hardest thing I ever had to do. Stopping my climax wasn’t going to be easy.

  Not when Dr. Pierce’s thumb began brushing against my hand on my clit.

  I parted my lips and I breathed quicker. He could see how obviously close I was, but he merely smiled in amusement.

  “I’m wondering about all the possibilities of what I could do with your body. Whitney was like a ball of clay when I first found her. But I molded the clay into a beautiful specimen, ripe for any Dominant’s needs.”

  I chewed my lower lip, hoping a shot of pain would stop my release.

  “You reach your peak quite early, Alexandra. Have you always had orgasms like this?”

  “No,” I answered. He narrowed his eyes.

  “When I ask you a question, you give me a proper answer with the proper title of ‘Sir.’ Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes…Sir,” I tried to choose my words more carefully, afraid of what might happened if I didn’t.

  “Do you really want this life, Alexandra?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Then prove it. Let me see what you look like when I give you permission to come.”

  It felt like a trick question, so I held myself back. Dr. Pierce flashed a wicked smile.

  “Good girl, you may come.”

  I slipped from control and came undone, riding out a powerful orgasm, fucking myself on his fingers. I cried out and tried to stifle the sound as much as I could, to not cause alarm and disrupt other patients in the building.

  “T-thank you, Sir,” I exclaimed, feeling his fingers pumping in and out. Knowing not to look away, we stayed connected, never breaking our gaze.

  “You’ll do,” he decided as his fingers pulled away. With only a second of recovery, Dr. Pierce walked back to the sink to wash his hands once more. My legs turn to jelly, and I relaxed.

  “You will meet me at my house tomorrow night at seven thirty sharp. I don’t want you to wear panties, and you will bring nothing else with you but your purse. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” I answered, keeping my wobbling legs still in the straps and my gaze on him. Dr. Pierce looked back over at me while he dried his hands and smiled.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I corrected myself.

  “You learn quickly, that’s good.”

  He fished into his pocket and pulled out a pen and business card. He scribbled something down quickly then handed it to me.

  “I’m curious to see how Whitney will take to having a new toy play with.”

  I took the business card from his outstretched fingers.

  Dr. Pierce smiled. “Have a nice day, Miss Hayes.”

  He said my name with such emphasis I reacted to it with a flood of desire. He scooped my file off the counter and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

  My first encounter with a Dominant and I was still alive.

  I couldn’t believe I actually forced myself to go to class that same day, but I did. I sat there, watching Whitney take notes on the lecture, just as she normally did. She looked the same, but what stood out more than ever was her collar. Dangling from her throat, moving slightly when her body would shift.

  Whitney, what happened to you?

  As if hearing my thoughts, she glanced up and then, to my shock flashed me a tiny smile.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. A nice, wide smile. To hide my deceit.

  Class was released, and I busied myself with cleaning away the unused paper and pen I had set out. While standing up, Whitney came toward me.

  “Hey, sorry about leaving you so quickly last week after lunch,” she said.

  “That’s all right. I was just happy that we got together.”

  She waited for me this time, and we headed out together.

  “So are you doing anything tomorrow night?” she surprised me in asking.

  “Well, I’m…going to be out.”

  Whitney sighed. “No problem. I had my plans change at the last minute today and I thought maybe you wanted to go catch a movie or something.”

  A wave of anxiety poured through me. But was this really cheating? Whitney was adamant Dr. Pierce wasn’t her boyfriend. So what was he? Her controlling gynecologist? I really didn’t even know what to call what was happening to either her or me, but I was going to find out by the next evening.

  After school, I went straight to my apartment and jumped online. I typed in the word “bondage” and the first images that came through the search engine caused my heart to speed. Women and men, tied with thick chains, gagged or masked. They looked scared and frightened, with some even appearing to be screaming. But a few of the photos showed a different side. A woman suspended in the air with a vibrator being held between her legs. She was smiling, the veins in her neck straining and her skin a flushed crimson red.

  Hours later, I was completely enthralled. Everything I had been able to read before I fell asleep at my desk fascinated me. The ties of the ropes were intriguing and beautifully designed. The women having their nipples pulled tight drew my curiosity. Did it hurt? What did it feel like?

  I discovered a woman’s blog–a submissive, as she called herself. She detailed punishments, as well as her rewards. She prided herself in her Master’s marks, and even took graphic photos of them.

  Friday evening, I headed out toward Dr. Pierce’s, or Eric’s, as I had started mentally to call him by his first name. He couldn’t stay a doctor in my mind. He had become something else entirely. The instructions he had written on his business card led me into west Los Angeles. He lived at the beach, in a part of the city’s most expensive neighborhoods. My little car felt extremely inadequate as I brought it to a halt in front of a row of houses with lush gardens. Eric lived directly in the middle of the neighborhood, with trees and flowers covering a small walkway. I parked my vehicle and got out. The house I stood in front of was modern in style. He had kept it pure white in color, with black shutters. As I neared the front door, I walked past a trimmed pond with three golden koi swimming lazily.

  Before knocking, I smoothed my short minidress against my bare thighs then tightened my ponytail. The outfit I had chosen didn’t require a bra, but since I was also not wearing underwear I felt especially exposed.

  Just as I lifted my hand to knock, the door opened. Eric stood there, dressed even more impeccably than the last time I had seen him. He wore all black, his shirt unbuttoned enough to expose smooth, tanned skin underneath. I gazed slowly down his body and then back again to his face, finding his signature cocky grin planted on his lips.

  It was his turn to take me all in and give my body the once-over.

  He tilted his head just slightly and wet his lips.

  “Do you normally dress like this when you visit a stranger’s home?” he asked me as he stepped aside to let me in.

  I looked down at my outfit and frowned.

  “I thought this would be all right,” I replied quietly then looked up to glance around the room. I was standing in his living room, a large and spacious place with dark wood floors and leather furniture. There was a flat-screen television mounted on the wall next to me. Paintings, expensive-looking ones, dotted the are
a. Further away there was a baby grand piano in the corner. Everything matched, even Eric.

  A cold hand wrapped softly around my neck.

  “I didn’t say you could speak, Alexandra,” he whispered against my hair.

  I had to remind myself to be careful now. Everything I did had the potential to be criticized and even punished.

  Or rewarded, if I played my cards right.

  Instead of apologizing, I remained quiet and allowed him to squeeze my neck tighter. It wasn’t cutting off my circulation, but it was definitely enough to show me he was in control.

  “And you look nice,” he finished, causing me to smile.

  The pressure of his hand released, and he walked around me to take a seat in the plush chair next to the couch. He looked like a king on a throne, sitting with his hand on his thigh and the other motioning for me to near.

  “You may sit on the floor here.”

  I moved to stand in front of him, between his legs, and then slid down to kneel. Though I was afraid to look, I felt Eric’s eyes stay on me as I situated myself.

  “Lean forward and raise your ass up in the air.”

  I did as he wanted and rested my weight onto my elbows. My dress slid up my thighs and exposed my bare body to him. In this position, I was completely vulnerable.

  “Look up at me.”

  My gaze was on his before he finished the words.

  “This is how you will come to me from now on unless I tell you otherwise. This is your resting position. From here, you may look at me and speak to me if you need to, but you will always address with me respect. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand, Sir.”

  Eric leaned forward and tilted my chin high enough so our faces were inches apart. He studied me, just as he had done in the examination room.

  “If you need things to slow down or tell me to use caution, the word you call is ‘yellow.’ If you need things to stop for any reason, your word is ‘red.’ When I hear that, no matter what is happening, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said while lowering my eyes.

  “Are you thinking of Whitney right now?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” I answered.

  “And what are you thinking about that involves her?”

  I bit my lower lip, a habit I had formed when I didn’t want to speak.

  “I’m wondering how you treated her…”

  Eric lifted one brow.

  “…Sir.”

  He stood and walked away from my sight. The lights dimmed all of a sudden, and then I felt Eric return, crouching behind me. Softly, he touched me from behind, letting his hand linger on my exposed backside. He started to rub my skin, and I felt myself relax.

  “Perhaps Whitney likes what I do to her. Did you ever think of that?”

  “Obviously I have.”

  Smack!

  His hand slapped my ass hard, causing me to yelp and stumble slightly forward. I corrected my stance and turned to look over my shoulder at him. Eric was watching me, testing me to see if I would break.

  “You won’t be warned again, Alexandra. Behave.”

  I looked away and shut my eyes.

  Don’t be a smartass.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He leaned over me and brushed my hair off my shoulder. Eric kissed my shoulder and it caused a shudder.

  He spanked me again, harder this time, and squeezed my skin. The pain shot through me and I tried to hold back my groan.

  “Now,” he began once more after straightening his posture, “you told me yesterday you wanted what Whitney has. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Have you really thought about what you are asking for?”

  “Yes, I have, Sir.”

  He trailed his fingers trailed down slowly, brushing only slightly against my folds and then back up. He paused to play with my clit, but once he heard me moan, his fingers were gone.

  My skirt was lifted higher over my hips, and Eric ran both his hands down my sides.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I pulled my knees further apart and he dragged his finger down my center.

  “You look absolutely perfect this way,” I heard him whisper. I relaxed more, knowing I was doing exactly what he wanted.

  “But I still think you need to learn a little more respect, Alexandra.”

  Another hard smack against my ass and I ground my teeth. I didn’t think humiliating could even begin to describe how I was feeling having my gynecologist spanking me in the middle of his living room. The slaps continued. Two, sometimes three in a row, with just a few seconds in between to let me attempt to gather myself back together.

  It wasn’t until about the fourteenth spank that I started to feel my strength slipping from my body, and the tears beginning to form in my eyes. Eric’s hand was large, and the slap it made wasn’t erotic at all.

  “Pleasure from this will come to you in time. And soon, you’ll be begging me to spank you, Miss Hayes,” he said with a growl.

  His spankings grew rougher, and I was slowly starting to break down from the pain. I cried out and started to sob, begging him stop.

  “You can handle more.”

  “No. No, please, I can’t. Stop!”

  He wasn’t listening.

  “You can do better, Alexandra.”

  I didn’t respond, only cried harder.

  “Do you like this?” he said with a hard hit of his palm.

  Furiously, I shook my head.

  “No?”

  Smack.

  “You will.”

  Eric was relentless and didn’t stop spanking me until after another dozen slaps. I wasn’t sure exactly how much time he spent spanking me, but it felt like forever.

  His hand slammed down on me once more and then stopped. The feeling of his flesh on mine made it even harder to endure, and for a moment I wished he would continue spanking me since it had felt better than just his hand resting on my ass.

  “Good girl,” he purred. He kissed my thigh and then began massaging my burning skin. The touch of his fingers slowly began to relax me, and my heart stopped pounding.

  “Stand up.”

  I struggled to move, but in a few long moments I was standing. Eric lifted me off the ground and hooked his arms around my legs and back. He walked through his house and down a darkened hallway. I couldn’t see very well with my face covered in salty tears and my hair disarrayed, but Eric didn’t seem to have any problem maneuvering us around.

  We walked into the last room down the hall. The bedroom was dark, except for the moonlight cascading in from the open windows. Without a care, Eric tossed me down on the bed, my legs dangling off the edge. I scrambled to sit up, but he stopped me.

  “Stay just as you are,” he said and I froze. I held myself up by my elbows, my knees bent and once more exposed.

  Eric crouched down and lowered to the bed, towering above me. His cologne tickled my senses. He wore a mixture of spice and wood, and it called for me to draw closer.

  “You can’t handle this, Alexandra. What I could put you through…” His words trailed away, but I didn’t need to hear the rest to understand he was disappointed.

  “You’re already crying so much that I think you’re honestly in trouble.”

  “No. I-I’m not!”

  “And you seem to forget quickly what I want from you.”

  “Please, Sir,” I said the correct way. “I want this.”

  “Why?”

  I looked down, only to have my chin brought back up high by his hand.

  “I want to be strong, like Whitney.”

  “Thank you for that compliment,” he replied. “Unfortunately, you’d be much more work than her.”

  “I can do it.”

  Eric stared at me, determining my fate. He shifted off the bed and walked across the room. I followed his every move as he fished into a large cabinet in the corner and produced a handful of thick rope. He returned to the bed and
set the rope down next to me.

  “Hold your legs spread against yourself,” he ordered.

  I pulled my legs back tight against my stomach, holding them by my knees. Eric began to wrap the first part of the rope around one of my ankles and when I felt it knot into place, I started to panic and pushed away. He grabbed my leg to hold me in place, his eyes on mine in question.

  “I-I don’t know–” I tried to speak but the words were stuck dry in my mouth.

  Eric’s grip softened when my frightened gaze met his.

  “Come here,” he said gently. I obeyed him and sat up, the rope still around my ankle.

  “Touch it,” Eric said, extending the rope out as a peace offering. With shaking hands, I touched the material, surprised to find how soft it was.

  “Ropes are very safe to use. The knots I make are tight enough so that you will be secure, but they won’t cut off your circulation. I use the same tie in each one so in case of an emergency they can easily be released.”

  He explained everything so normally it was hard not to feel at ease. I nodded my head slowly and lowered my gaze.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I whispered with embarrassment.

  “It’s nothing to be afraid of, but as your Master, I would need to know your fears and weaknesses.”

  He patted the bed with one hand, ordering me to lie back down. Timidly, I did so, holding my knees up to my breasts one last time. Eric placed his fingers to the back of my exposed thigh and drew tiny circles with his thumb. He started to wrap the rope around my ankle once more, and I watched as he twisted and turned it every which way.

  Before I knew it, I was bound, my hands tied to my knees. A cool breeze brushed past my exposed skin, making me shiver. Eric brought another set of ropes and attached one loop to the bed’s end post. He tied it to my leg and gave a tug to show me its purpose. It forced me in place, holding me open. He repeated the same ties to my other leg and stepped back to admire his work.

  “What are you feeling right now, Alexandra?” he asked me.

  “Fear, cold, embarrassment, Sir,” I answered truthfully.

  “And nothing else? Not beautiful? Sexy? Aroused?”

  There was an arousal to the position I was in, but I didn’t know if I could admit it out loud to him.