Testing The Limits (3 page)

Well, so that weekend put me into a spin all right. I was impressed that Andrew had pretty much admitted that he was out of his depth. It took a brave man, I thought, and I was happy to go along to this "munch" even though I had no idea what it was. And it was worth it, too. It turned out to be an informal meeting of all sorts of people who were interested and practicing BDSM.

Andrew was nervous, I could tell. It was like he was about to tell me something but kept thinking better of it. There was constantly something on the tip of his tongue. In the end, I did challenge him on it. He just said it was work stress. Well, whatever.

I had my own work stuff to deal with, anyway. My boss back in the States was delighted with my work and he was going to send over more staff and establish a proper office base in London. I was hardly a location expert but the task of finding suitable premises fell to me, at least for the moment. And as I loved trying new things, I grabbed the chance. You never know when a skill might blossom into a new career direction, after all.

My mom left another message. She sounded quite depressed but I wondered if it was a ploy to get me to call her back. I was done with all that, I told myself.

It kinda hurt. I pushed it out of my mind.

Then Andrew went dark on me again, dropping off the radar for a couple days. It didn't matter much, anyways, as I had my work to keep me occupied. Toward the end of the week, we had a snatched phone call at lunchtime, and he told me we were getting away for the weekend.

In truth, I could barely spare the time. But he commanded it, and I decided this was all part of it; I obeyed. I could pull a few all-nighters - Thursday, Friday, and clear the decks ready for a weekend of sinful pleasure. And there was something in his tone that would not have taken a refusal. Whatever his work stress was, he surely needed a release.

* * * *

Late on Friday night, as I put the final touches to a report and emailed it off to my boss, a message popped up from Carlee.

It had been over a month since I'd had any meaningful contact with her.

It was just a friendly opener to conversation, but I read it, and ignored it. I don't really know why.

Actually scratch that. Yeah, I do know why. I didn't have time for it right now. We'd get drawn into a conversation and there would go my night; it was late afternoon where she was, of course. I'd neglected our friendship but the roots went right back to before I even left the USA. Our lives were moving in different circles and I knew I didn't spend enough time with her. I felt guilty about that, so I avoided her even more.

I missed her, too, but I couldn't be a good friend.

I turned off my laptop and went to my bedroom to pack for the weekend.

* * * *

"This is no time that ought to exist in a reasonable person's life," I grumbled as I slid into the passenger seat of his dark grey Lexus.

Andrew grinned at me. He was dressed down - for him - in a smart white shirt and black slacks. His nod toward casual dressing was the fact that he'd undone the top button, and turned his cuffs back, exposing his thick wrists and expensive watch. "I've already been for a run," he said smugly.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and settled back into the smooth leather seats. "Did you want a medal?"

"I already have enough medals, thank you. Ready?"

He wasn't joking, either. That Adonis body of his was the result of dedicated swimming, running and biking. His keen amateur athletics put my sporadic gym attendance to shame.

"Yeah, I'm ready. So where are we going?"

"Towards the New Forest."

"Gotcha."

He looked at me sideways and laughed. "You actually have no idea where we are going, have you?"

"Meh. Well, nope." I shrugged, smiling back. We had regained the easy informality and light banter that had sparked between us at the start of things, and I was relieved. We cruised out of the city, leaving the constant traffic behind, and found ourselves on narrower roads that wound through lush, green hills.

I hadn't been out of London. This was a new world to me. Grass grew right up to the edges of the road, which was kinda odd, and some of the villages we passed through were surely mock-ups for a movie.

I loved it.

"This is amazing."

"What? The car? The scenery? Everything in general?"

"Yeah, all of that. Wow. So where are we?"

"We're heading to Hampshire. The New Forest is an ancient hunting ground and I've rented a small cabin in a very selective area."

"Ha, only in England is something really old considered "new", right?"

I settled back in the chair, and gazed out of the window, relaxing at last.

Getting into the vacation complex was like trying to gain access to the Pentagon. Once we were through the bizarre outer building, and all of Andrew's ID was verified and his booking details confirmed, we were ushered into a second building where the "rules" were laid down.

What the actual ever-living fuck?
Rules?

Turned out, this was no ordinary private and exclusive resort. Nope. This was for "the more discerning holidaymaker" which I gathered was British code for basically "sex camp."

We signed documents saying we wouldn't take photos or make recordings, read a list of guidelines and rules about appropriate conduct, and were advised to sit on a towel if we preferred to go naked. Oh, and if we were to eat in the rather fine restaurant, we ought to dress for it.

I wanted to giggle but Andrew's serious face made me hold it in until we were finally alone in a sweet little wooden cabin, and then I began to howl with laughter. He grinned at me, and grabbed me around the waist, spinning me until my laughs turned to breathless gasps for air.

"This weekend, you are mine."

"Yes.
Sir,
" I added, meaningfully.

He put me down and let my balance come back. "Now, I've got something I want you to wear. You go through and put it on, and I'll prepare a sandwich."

He went over to our cases and handed me a package wrapped in tissue paper. I took it, scowling and smiling at the same time. He knew why I was conflicted, and he just patted my ass and sent me toward the bedroom.

I bridled at that, but kept my mouth shut. For the moment.

The bedroom was sumptuously furnished, and for a very clear purpose. I couldn't imagine any other vacation getaway having anchor points on the foot of the wooden bed, and a couple chairs by the table that had ankle restraints. I couldn't take photos of the other visitors but I took a few snaps of this room - hell, who wouldn't?

I guess I was expecting something tacky when I opened the package - all my previous partners had been woefully unsuccessful in buying me clothes - but I was surprised. The light tissue paper parted to reveal a gauzy white thing - like a dress, in a way, but with thin satin shoulder straps. It would show whatever was below it, so I couldn't wear anything underneath. I neatly folded my clothes on the bed and slipped into the garment. In spite of appearing floaty and light, it actually hugged my body pretty closely, skimming over my hips and breasts. It came to my ankles, which should have made it feel kinda chaste, but the way my hardening nipples poked through the fabric so obviously made me feel completely and totally wanton.

Barefoot, I padded back through to the main living space. There was a small kitchen area at one end, two low couches, and a wood burning stove along one wall. The day was warm but I hoped the evening would fall cool so that we could light it and snuggle in front of it.

One glance at Andrew's face told me that "snuggling" was way, way far from his thoughts. He let his gaze track from my feet, up over my body, to my face, and he smiled with a hunger born of lust.

"You look like some sensual wood nymph, stepping out of fairyland to seduce and charm me," he said.

"I kinda hoped you'd be the one doing the seducing."

"Seduction? Better than that," he said. "I have a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Care to join me?"

"You tempter, you. Yes, please."

My God, but eating that sandwich was tense. We sat on the two couches, set at an angle to one another, and we watched each other like hawks. I wanted to eat quickly. Every movement I made sent the slippery fabric rustling over my body and reminded me of my almost-nakedness. But Andrew ate slowly, teasing me, and he made it into a test of nerves.

When he finally took the plate from my hands, his fingers did
not
brush mine and I could have mewled in disappointment. He kept his dark blue eyes fixed on mine, as he lowered his face and brought his lips to my ears, whispering.

"Cup of tea?"

I slapped his chest. "No, already!"

"No? You say no to me?"

He straightened up and walked away. I waited. He washed the plates, and dried them, and stacked them away. I still waited. I hadn't had his cock inside me for some time. I'd sucked him off but we hadn’t fucked and I realized that I really, really needed it. I crossed my legs and the fabric was taut around my thighs, and my pussy was throbbing already.

Andrew walked very slowly across the carpet. There was a controlled menace in the way his feet fell; I grew transfixed by his black shoes, watching them get nearer. When I looked up, he was standing with his weight on one leg, louchely, and he held out his right hand to me.

I took it, standing up slowly, letting the dress smooth out over my body. He kept hold of my hand and took it deliberately to his lips, kissing the back of my hand while never letting his gaze drop from my face. His eyes had darkened and my pulse quickened.

Then he turned and led me out, picking up a bag that he'd left by the door as we passed. I just got chance to slip my feet into my high heel pumps and then I was out the door.

Outside, it was warm but the trees cast a cooler shade as we followed a path that had been laid with wood chippings. He kept ahold of me, pulling me on without a word, and I understood that I was in his power now.

I wanted, desperately, to ask what was in the bag, but I didn't dare. I knew, anyway, that I would find out soon enough.

* * * *

I really did feel like some goddamn wood nymph as I went along, almost towed by the handsome man who kept half a step ahead of me. There was the strangest churning feeling in my stomach and I swear I didn't realize what it was at first.

I was happy. Properly happy. Happy in a fulfilled kinda way. My job was going great, I was traveling and living the dream, and now I had a sexy man who was dedicated to my sensual pleasure. He fired up emotions in me that I had never really conceived of. The whole BDSM thing wasn't about the pain - not totally, at any rate. The emotional layers of complexity had completed broadsided me.

It was great.

We came to a clearing and Andrew stopped. He looked around, assessing the area. It seemed that this was new to him, too. Finally satisfied, he dropped the bag next to a smooth-barked tree.

"You trust me, don't you?" he said. It sent a shiver up my spine. I would have expected him to say "do you trust me?" or "you need to trust me" but this was a statement with an undercurrent of menace.

"Yes, I do," I said, hoping fervently that I did. Yes, yeah, I did. Who was I kidding? Of course I did. I knew he had his demons but we'd got through it, right?

He bent to open the bag, and drew out a length of rope. Now, I don't care how much you trust a guy, but there is something about seeing him wrapping rope around his hand and approaching you that does send the blood pressure real fucking high.

"Stand with your back against the tree."

I stepped back and settled my shoulder blades into as comfortable a place I could find by wriggling side to side. I figured I was going to be here a while so I may as well start as well as I could. He took my wrists and pulled them behind me, so that I was basically embracing the tree but with my arms behind me, not in front. The position arched my back and when I breathed in deeply, my breasts rose prominently. I widened my legs slightly to keep my balance.

The trunk was narrow but he was kind enough to keep some slack between my hands, though he tied the rope tightly to my wrists. He prowled around me three times, looking for all the world like a wolf assessing its prey.

He went off to the bag again and returned with a blindfold.

As soon as I was in darkness, I began to have doubts. I could see nothing at all, and I couldn't move. Yeah, I trusted him. But there was a primal fear rising in me, and I fought down the growing panic.

I knew I had to stay silent but I couldn't help it. With a dry mouth, I said, "Sir-"

But that was enough to bring his wrath down upon me. His hand slid around my neck and held just that little too tight as he pressed his face against my ear. I could feel his breath upon my skin. He didn't speak, and he really didn't need to.

I knew what he meant. It was a warning.

I swallowed.

I felt a tugging sensation at the back of my neck and it took me a moment to process what was going on; the tearing sound of fabric confirmed it. He was pulling on the front of my dress, tearing it open, and I felt the cool air on my skin as the dress was ripped away from me. Now I was naked.

And … alone?

Footsteps padded away. Even without that, I would have known he had gone. There was an absence where he had been.

I shivered. He would be back, soon. Was that him? My ears were alerted to a scuffle but it must have been a bird. Something chirruped. Nothing human. But yeah. He'd be back soon. Probably with a paddle to spank me with, or a whip, maybe. Something new and kinky. I liked the sound of all that.

And I waited.

So, uh, when would he be back, then?

I waited and began to imagine scenarios in my head. He'd come back and touch me. He'd fuck me. He'd tantalize me with strange sensations; ice, feathers, a skin-pricker wheel.

Maybe it wouldn't be him. This was a sexually open complex, after all. Here, anything went. Swingers were welcome. Maybe another man would come here.

Maybe he'd
bring
another man. Or woman. Or more.

I had never been with a woman but the idea intrigued me. How would she touch me? Would he give her orders?

I waited, and I grew impatient. I wanted him to come back and do these things to me.

Would he let another man touch me? What if another man came along and took me anyway? Then what?

Oh God, hurry up and come back. My strange imaginings were turning me on and scaring me in equal measure.

Footsteps. I tensed. Were they
his
footsteps? They had to be. How long had he been gone? I had no idea. The person trod around me, and then touched me, and I squirmed in surprise. The touch was curiously cold and smooth - oh, not skin.

A glove. A leather glove?

Was it him? I tried to get his scent. I strained for the musk that was so familiar to me. Nothing. Just the whiff of leather as the hand came up and covered my mouth with a harsh and violent movement. Now prevented from screaming, it was actually all that I wanted to do.

I felt hot breath on my ear and a pressure on my breast; another gloved hand squeezed me, hard. It was him. It had to be him. I had to tell myself that it was him.

Even if it wasn't him, my heart was hammering hard and my pussy was tingling. Fear and lust were falling over each other in their rush through my system. I guess whenever you have an excess of any emotion it all ends up feeling the same, in the end: pure adrenalin.

His hand pinched my nipple before sliding down over my belly to cup my pubic mound firmly. I fought for breath and his grip on my mouth loosened slightly. I barely had a moment to gasp before his gloved fingers were forcing themselves into my pussy and I instinctively squeezed my legs shut. He twisted his hand and opened me out, in spite of me. The hand on my mouth fell away and I guessed he must have sank to his knees to get better access to me, because one finger was followed by two and now my legs were willingly apart.

Suddenly, footsteps further away caught my attention; someone was walking past, and then they stopped. But the fingers in my pussy continued their relentless hammering, and I moaned.

I wanted to see. I needed to see! I wanted to be sure it was him, but the thought then came to me: perhaps this gloved man was someone else.

And it was Andrew who was watching.

Oh, Lord.

The fingers plunged in and out, and his other hand began to stroke and then squeeze my ass. My thighs were beginning to tremble as my breath came in ragged bursts. Two fingers weren't enough; I could not orgasm like this. I wanted something on my clit, I wanted more in my pussy, I wanted lips on my mouth and hands on my breasts and oh God, I felt I was tumbling toward a climax anyway.

Before I reached it, the man stepped away from me and I sagged forward, letting the rope take the strain of my weight for a moment. My upper thighs were wet and my pussy felt swollen. Even my nipples were throbbing and pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

So close.

There was movement I couldn't quite discern. It was like my brain was moving too slowly because all my attention was on my own body and its reactions; I was half a heartbeat behind everything that was happening around me. But my hearing was heightened with the lack of vision, and I realized I was being untied just as the ropes came loose and I fell forward. I stumbled to regain my footing and my ankles turned, and I kinda fell out of my pumps as I ended up on my hands and knees.

A firm arm went around my body, lifting me up again. I tried to process everything I could, hunting for clues; he was clothed, he wore a long sleeved shirt, and he was strong.