The Chalet - Page 24/41

Then, just when I thought they’d never come, I heard footsteps on the stairway. Within seconds he was before me.

“Look at me, Abigail.”

He spoke in the cool, controlled voice I knew so well, and almost instantly all my nervous excitement was replaced by aroused need. I lifted my head and met his fiery gaze.

My Master.

My playful husband and sensual lover were still there, but at the moment, there was no doubt the man in front of me was my unyielding and demanding Dominant. My knees didn’t matter and the weeks we hadn’t played melted away like they were nothing. And deep inside my soul, something whispered Yes.

“I have something new for you,” he said, holding out a leather collar. “Your regular collar is fine for what we use it for, but this is a special occasion and needs a special collar.”

A new collar? I hadn’t expected that.

“Abigail West,” he said. “If you accept this collar, it will brand you as mine for however long you wear it. Your body will be mine to tease and torment. And since it’s been so long, I feel it only fair to warn you that I’m going to work you over hard. You have your safe words if you need them.”

I was, not for the first time, thinking the month-long abstinence request might not have been the best idea after all.

“Knowing this, do you accept my collar?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I answered.

“Thank you, Abigail.”

He buckled the collar around my neck and I swallowed. It felt tighter than my diamond collar.

“Feel okay?” he asked. “Not too tight?”

“No, Master. It’s perfect.” I rose up on my knees, eager for this next part. “May I serve you by sucking your cock?”

He stepped back. “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

It was the first time he’d ever said “no” after he collared me and I was caught off guard. I’d automatically leaned forward to undo his pants and had to catch myself before I moved farther.

He trailed a finger across my cheek. “I’ve missed seeing you like this, Abigail.”

It wasn’t my place to speak out of turn when I had his collar on, so I remained still and silent. He studied me for several long seconds and then turned.

I waited as he walked over to a short couch and sat down. It was then I noticed the tube sitting on the cushion beside him and I gulped.

“Come across my lap,” he said. “I’m going to spend some time reacquainting myself with your ass.”

He didn’t often have me over his knees, knowing it wasn’t one of my favorite positions to be in. I had a feeling I was in for a long day.

“How long has it been since I’ve spanked you?” he asked when I’d situated myself.

“I don’t know, Master. Maybe five weeks?”

“About thirty-five days.” He started rubbing my backside. “That sounds about right.”

He continued with his rubbing, every once and awhile dipping a finger between my legs, checking to see if I was wet. I was, of course, and every time he checked, he’d bring his finger to my mouth for me to clean.

“I’ve spanked you for your pleasure and I’ve spanked you for your disobedience.” His hands got rougher. “Today I spank you because it pleases me to do so. It’s been thirty-five days, so I’m going to spank you thirty-five times. Fifteen with my hand, fifteen with the paddle, and five with the leather strap. I won’t make you count.”

Apparently, he considered the rubbing a warm up, because when his hand came down upon my flesh for the first time, it definitely wasn’t a swat to prepare me. I grunted.

“Your ass has gotten soft,” he said. “And it’s my job to toughen it back up.”

The first fifteen were hard, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Especially since between swats, he’d play with my clit and drive me right to the edge of release. Even though he’d said I didn’t have to count, I did so anyway in my head and I breathed a sigh of relief when he finished the first set. But he didn’t pick up the paddle like I thought he would. Instead, I felt his slick fingers pressing against my anus.

“Five weeks since I spanked you,” he said. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve taken you here?”

“Uh, two, mmm, two and a half months.”

He hummed, pressing just inside with his finger. “And in those two and a half months how many times did you use a plug?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Abigail?”

“None, Master.”