Aprons For Gayle Ch. 07

AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Being belittled and unnecessarily criticized shows nothing of your character, but it shows a lot of the other person's."

I know it's been a bit longer to get this out as it has the other chapters, but I've been threatened by death to finish Hiliad's Special Gift.

And as always, a big shout out to my cherished Editor.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gayle slipped out of bed, knowing full well how flushed her face and chest were. She might have thought she was a strong woman, but her body had apparently decided to betray her. After putting his collar on, she debated whether to put the apron back on too, but decided against it, though slipped the heels on with a groan.

Heading downstairs to the kitchen to find something to make for dinner, she met Bessie at the foot of the stairs. "Bessie! Hey, girl. Do you have to go potty? Let's find your daddy to get your leash."

Going to Hamish's library, she saw him sitting behind his desk staring at the computer deep in thought. Stopping in the doorway, she wasn't sure exactly what to do because he hadn't acknowledged her. She remembered the submissives at The Crucible sitting at their Master's and Mistress's feet and figured that was a good place to start.

Quietly walking towards him, he clicked the mouse a few times but he never said anything. The edge of the rug was by the chair, thankfully, so she knelt, rested her bum on her heels, put the back of her hands on her thighs and kept her head down.

Several minutes passed before he said, though didn't look at her, "Do you have something you want to tell me, Ms. Boyce?" His voice wasn't angry, but there was an underlying tone she couldn't ascertain.

She replied without looking up, "I wanted to ask you for the leash to take Bessie out, Sir."

"No need. I've taken her out. Anything else?"

"Oh, that's right." Horrible attempt, there, idiot! she thought. "What would you like for dinner? Do you still want the bacon sardines?" she asked, purposefully making up the name to get some kind of reaction out of him.

"Jessie will be here at five to make us dinner, and you will serve. What else?"

That wasn't exactly the reaction she wanted. She wondered how the hell he could have gone from being silly and laughing so easily to being so callous. And the wall comes slamming back down.

Trying to remain calm, she looked up at him and asked, "Sir? Are you angry with me?"

He finally turned to look at her, and the expression on his face told her everything. She had gone to the bathroom to clean herself up before she came down, but she didn't think he could smell ... wait, he knew her scent from when he went down on her.

There's no way! Oh, fuck! she groaned to herself. He can smell my ...?! She hung her head in shame. "Sir, I ... In my bed, I ... Sir, I ... played with myself."

"Did you come?" She nodded. "And did I give you permission?" She shook her head. "Did you forget your orgasms are mine?" Amazingly, his voice remained calm.

Tears filled her eyes and she did feel ashamed of herself. He put his fingers under her chin and pushed it up to look into her eyes. He hesitated a moment before he said, "Your tears tell me you are remorseful for disobeying me, but I'm afraid I can't let your transgression go."

"I understand, Sir. I'm sorry."

"You might be sorry, but the fact remains you've blatantly defied me. I am really going to enjoy your punishment Friday," he added, as if an afterthought. "Head down and remain as you are."

He turned around, picked up the phone, dialed several numbers, made an appointment with the dial tone for six and hung up. Then he went back to his computer. Barely able to control his elation at another chance for training, his mind reeled with two things: One -- How to punish her; and Two -- what he could have her do for the next three hours waiting for Karen to arrive.

Recalling the multiple times his old uni mate John Ramsay had shown him how to bind someone with rope, he thought now was as good a time as any to see what he remembered.

Letting ten minutes slip by, he went to a shelf next to the fireplace and pressed a hidden button to open his small dressing room-sized play room. There he kept his goodies: The bench he'd used, several floggers and a cherished whip, and other fun toys.

Grabbing several knotted ropes, a clothes pin, nipples clamps, a blindfold and some tissues from the bathroom, he approached Gayle and handed her the wipes. "Dry your eyes, Ms. Boyce." Sniffling, she did so then he secured the blindfold over her eyes. "Can you see anything?"

She tilted her head every which way before she replied, "No Sir."

She prayed he wouldn't be too harsh with her, but she also knew she deserved everything she had coming.

Moving the two leather chairs aside to give him room, Hamish untied the lengths of rope and laid them neatly beside a sharp utility knife, used in case she panicked and needed to be released quickly. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Come. At ease," Hamish said, and when she got on her feet, he gave her directions as she took small steps toward his voice. "Good. At least you are listening to me now," he chortled as she stood in front of him.

He slipped one length of rope through the collar ring and pulled it through. As he did, it would either snap against a breast or her stomach, though not painfully, or scrape against her skin. Knowing it was rope but not able to see exactly where it would land, whenever it did it would cause goose bumps, forcing a startled gasp at the sensation. It felt like a knife was scraping her skin, not a harmless rope.

For what felt like forever, he continued to bring more rope front and back, here and there, around her back and then tugged tightly in the front. She was bound very securely, and though she tried, she couldn't move her arms a millimeter. Strands of the rope ran over her shoulders, her upper arms and forearms, held into place as it ran under her breasts to her back, just at the shoulder blades. She felt the strain in her shoulders at the unnatural angle, but she tried to fight past it.

Unexpectedly, a sense of calmness invaded her completely, though it came from the inside out. She couldn't understand why or how, but she didn't fight it. She felt ... safe.

"Ms. Boyce, what is your color?" he asked as he stood behind her with his hand gently on her shoulder.

She hesitated as she thought. "Green, Sir."

"Very good."

He circled her several times admiring her body, not his work. He also noticed her nipples had sprung up nicely, which gave him another idea. He then took another length of rope behind her back and brought it to her front. Letting the ends fall to the floor, he cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples, getting an instant response as they grew harder. She moaned under her breath as her mouth dropped.

As he was playing with her nipples, surges of electricity coursed through her body, and she began to feel a little weak in the knees.

Taking the rope he'd just put on, he wrapped it around a breast three times, making sure it was tight enough to bring the mounds out further, then tied it in the back. Again he repeated the steps with another length and her other breast was bound.

"Lovely, but let me check something," he said with a hint of evil.

He brought his hand between her legs until he reached her clit, purposely not touching it before he reached his goal. First running it over the folds of her pussy, the moisture that met his fingertip made his cock twinge in an instant.

"I see you are enjoying this," he commented then stepped back.

Yes, she was enjoying it, but she didn't understand why. She was afraid to answer, and since it wasn't a question, she didn't say anything.

"I'm curious, how does it feel?"

"It makes me feel ... safe, secure. It feels good, actually, Sir."

"Have you dabbled in bondage?" She shook her head, but he promptly smacked an ass cheek. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer."

"Yes Sir," she croaked. "No, I've never been bound."

"And nipple clamps?"

Her stomach churned with nerves. "No Sir."

"Would you like to try them?"

No. Yes. Maybe. "Yes Sir."

He smiled then took the nipple clamps, pinched and tweaked it to see if it would grow further, which it didn't. Taking as much of the bud as he could, he parted the prongs and clasped it closed, staying as far away from the tip as possible.

She groaned from the back of her throat but held her ground.

When he did the other, he asked, "On a scale of one to ten, how's the pain?"

"It's a ... seven, Sir."

"I stayed away from the tip on purpose, but I will push your limits on that in the future. Stay as you are."

Going back to the toy closet, he took a big dog cushion and set it beside his chair by the desk. Sitting down, he accidentally kicked Bessie, who was sitting underneath the desk looking up at him as if to say, 'If you need me, I'm right here.'

"Ms. Boyce, do as you did before and follow my voice ..." He again called directions to the pillow, and he helped her get settled in the middle of it with her knees spread. "How's this position?"

"Fine, Sir."

"Brilliant. There's one more step, and it will gauge your limits and how far I can take you. But first, can you tell me what's put you here right now?"

"Yes Sir. I ... masturbated."

"Correct. Spread your legs wider and bring your hips forward to expose as much of your pussy as you can."

When she did, she almost fell forward but Hamish caught her. His forearms grazed against a clamp, making it move a little. She gasped in pain because as the minutes had passed, the pain grew and grew as the grip got tighter from her still-growing nipples.

Slowly, he ran his hand over her pussy again, and her breathing became shallow, almost in a pant. Her mind had been so wrapped around the pain on her nipples that she could feel herself grow wetter, much to her chagrin.

He growled in her ear, flicking his finger over her clit until she whined, causing her to tilt her head back slightly and open her mouth further. Slowly, he slid his other hand to the nape of her neck and pulled it forward. Without a word, he took her bottom lip and bit it, not hard, but hard enough to get her attention. She sighed and held her breath.

He, on the other hand, began to breathe heavier, and his cock throbbed painfully. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out not having her, but he told her it would be her decision, and he meant it. All he could do at that moment was to press his lips against hers, taking his time to enjoy and relish the soft, plump fullness of her lips.

He was pleased when she responded by leaning forward into him. He slid his hand down to the side of her neck, her carotid artery pulsating hard and fast under his fingers.

"Hmm, no, little fawn," he whispered as he pulled away regretfully, smiling at seeing her cheeks blaze a hot pink. "This is not for your pleasure." He took his hand away from her crotch and asked, "Has the pain gone from the waxing?"

She groaned, obviously displeased, then leaned back, sitting straight again. "Only a little, Sir," she sighed.

"Good. I've got a clothes pin here. Can you give me a guess where I'm going to put it?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "No Sir." But she knew. She just had a feeling, a bad one, but one nonetheless. Oh, God, she moaned to herself. Are you insane putting that on my clit?!

"Well, what I'm going to do is put it right on my desk."

You son of a bitch! she cursed at him.

"Just sit right there and relax. Let me finish my work then you should get changed for Jessie. With her making us dinner weeknights, I don't see any harm in her giving you some tips."

Then she realized what he was doing. He was playing with her head. She was never one for mind games, but he had gotten into her head ... and to her deepest core. Regardless, her pussy began to ache for more attention, while her nipples screamed to be released. It was an odd sensation, but not something she could work through at the moment.

Sitting there for ten minutes, blinded and bound, not knowing what he was doing on the computer, there was a scratching sound then a thud. Her body tensed because she didn't know what the sound was, and she was expecting Hamish to touch her somewhere on her body.

But then an unruly, nasty-sounding, deep fart came from where Hamish was sitting. Oh my God! Hamish! she thought. That was beyond ... Please don't smell. Please don't smell. PLEASE don't smell. She would have laughed if she wasn't in the line of fire.

"That Bloody dog!" Hamish cursed and rolled the away from the desk. "Get out from under there! Of all the ... Damn!"

Sure enough, seconds later the wickedest, foulest odor assaulted her nose. "Oh, God," she mumbled, then waited for Hamish to yell at her for speaking.

"Hold on, Gayle," he told her. Then to Bessie, "Christ, that stinks. Get out. Go. I'll let you out in a tick." He closed the library door and went to Gayle. "Well, so much for discipline with a foul dog fart. A clear case of 'doggus very much interuptus.' Remind me to never feed her left over rabbit casserole again. I'm going to help you up now before you pass out from lack of oxygen. Lean into me if you need to. I won't let you fall."

Taking a hold of her shoulders, he helped her up to her feet, but it took a second for her to stand without fighting the stiffness of her legs; a dull pain had begun in her shoulders, and her hands had become numb.

"Take your time and walk with me." They took only a few steps to the front of the desk. "Which would you like taken off, first?"

"Nipples, Sir. Nipples. Nipples. Please, please," she begged.

He chuckled, but she couldn't force a smile from the pain. "Good choice. Give me a second." Going to the small refrigerator behind his desk, he grabbed an ice cube and returned to her. "I won't lie to you, this will hurt. Breathe in and out through your mouth."

Putting the ice cube in his mouth and moving it to one side, he said as he sat down on a chair, "On two. The quicker the better. Ready?"

She took several deep breaths and replied, "Yes Sir." She fully expected him to remove it on the count of one, considering what he'd done to her at the salon.

"One." He moved closer until he was about four inches from her breast and gripped the end of the clamp. "Two." In one swift movement he pressed it down, releasing the clamps on her breast.

She cried out in excruciating pain as her tit felt like it would explode. But a split second later he took her nipple into his mouth, making sure the ice circled the entire circumference to ease the escalating shot of pain he knew she'd be having.

"Ohhh fuuuu ..." she groaned, tilting her head forward.

"Good girl. One more to go," he cooed, hoping to relax her enough for the last stab of pain. "One. Two."

Tug ... gasp ... ice.

"Ohhhmmmphh cheeeese and crackers!"

He smiled. "Don't forget to breath. Ready for the rope?"

She nodded emphatically, trying to slow her breathing, though it was difficult. "Yes Sir."

Standing up, within a few minutes he had her untied then removed the blindfold and gave her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright room. When she saw him looking at her the way he was, she smiled. He brushed her hair away from her face and gave her a kiss on her nose.

He took her hand and led her out of the room slowly so she could get the feeling back to her legs. She smiled when he opened the door to the garden, where Bessie barked and ran outside as soon as it was wide enough.

"Bessie! Wait!" Hamish snapped. The dog turned, shook her head and ran back to him.

Stepping up to the fountain in the garden, he sat down, patted his thigh and said, "Snuggle."

She grinned shyly as she sat on his thigh, but had difficulty keeping balance. So he grabbed her legs and put them over both of his legs, tugging until she was as close to him as she could be. He wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her to him, keeping his other arm over her thighs.

After she relaxed, he told her, "Lass, you are still holding back when you are in this position. I'll have you jumping on my lap whenever I say the word eventually, though I hope it's sooner rather than later." His voice was soft, and he wore a slight grin.

Somehow she found that funny and started to giggle.

He chuckled. "I see you are coming down. You did well, Ms. Boyce. How was it?"

"It wasn't too bad, Sir, but it was getting a little uncomfortable."

He didn't believe her from her tone. "Uncomfortable?"

"Okay, okay. Unbearable."

He laughed and ran her hair through his fingers. "Alright. That's what we need to determine, finding your limits. Duly noted."

"Yes Sir. Thank you for ... this, the snuggling."

"Oh, no thanks necessary. After care is one thing I cherish after I've put my sub through something intense. It reinforces the bond between us."

"I like it too, Sir." She wanted to ask how many subs he'd had, but she honestly didn't want to know.

"Are you alright now?" he asked, looking down over her face.

"I ... I think so. But Sir, I'm confused. My nipples hurt like a bitch, but if I really was ..." Her voice trailed off. He cupped the side of her face to reassure her she could continue to share. "I don't know whether I was excited from you touching me ... my pussy, or if it was from the pain."

"Ah. I was expecting this. They are somewhat intermingled. As the pain grows, you go through ... stages, maybe is a good word. As each minute passes the pain grows and you push past it, and that pain turns to pleasure. Then the next wave of pain, then the pleasure returns and builds."

"Hmm," she mumbled as she thought about it. "I'm not really sure if I hit any stages, Sir."

"But you will. It'll take time. Now, go on upstairs and freshen up. You have five minutes. Can I trust you not to play with yourself?"

She pulled back and nodded. "No Sir ... I mean, no, I ..." She chuckled. "Yes Sir, you can trust me. But later can you explain why I'm feeling like this? I feel like I'm floating."

Giving her a quick kiss, though he didn't want to stop, he said, "I will. Get. Our guest will be here at six."

"What would you like me to wear?" She didn't care what he told her to wear, she was just ecstatic she had something else other than aprons and the damned blouse and skirt -- which would be burned as soon as she got back home.

"I am fond of the dark red blouse."

"Okay. Is your guest staying for dinner?"

"No, she's not."

A woman is coming here? Why?! she wondered. Then she had to mentally kick her ass to remind herself he was looking for a wife, after all.

She then had another thought. She wondered how much longer he would have kept her bound and clamped if Bessie hadn't come to her unexpected, albeit smelly, rescue. A smile cracked her lips as she tried to work out how to train her to 'doggus interuptus,' as Hamish put it, on a more regular basis.

'Saved by the smell' was the last thought that had her start to giggle, and with that she hopped off his lap and happily trotted to her room, leaving Hamish with a bemused and puzzled look on his face.

"Ms. Boyce? I mean now."

She looked up at him, not realizing how lost in her thoughts she was. "I'm sorry, Sir." Standing, she said, "Thank you for ... Well, when I figure it out I'll let you know."

-------------------

Jessie showed Gayle the ins and outs of how to use the cooker, then placed the roast with potatoes, carrots and onions wrapped in foil into the oven.

"You're right, it's pretty easy to use."

"'Tis. Dornt worry yerself. Hammy well eat anythin' ye pit oan a plate. Jist gie him meat an' tatties an' he'll be happy." She handed her a thin notebook. "Haur ur some recipes 'at ar easy, sae ye shood be able tae follaw them."