ReDefined Page 8

  She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. He’d positioned her in front of a full length mirror, and she couldn’t help but slide her gaze away. “What time is it?”

  “Why? You got a hot date?”

  “No, of course not. I just…I mean…I lost track of time.”

  He lifted her chin, and she saw his grin. “I know. You went into a light subspace. Pretty amazing for your first time.”

  “That’s not normal?”

  “Normal is relative. Some subs chase that feeling for years; others get there quickly. Look in the mirror.”

  She didn’t want to, but his tone didn’t leave room for discussion. The first thing she noticed was how her skin seemed to glow. Her eyes shone. Yes—so far, bondage definitely was working for her. She let her gaze wander down, taking in the way he’d tied the rope. A heavy braid separated her breasts and provided an anchor for the rest of the design. White rope wrapped around her torso above and below her breasts, making her lemon yellow bra stand out in sharp relief. The effect continued down her body. Pretty designs spread over her stomach and down her thighs, and the rope he’d threaded between her legs dug into her labia. Though she wore panties, it was visibly parted. She felt a little exposed, but she reasoned that Jordan wasn’t looking anyway, so what did it matter?

  “It’s beautiful. This is bondage?”

  “Shibari. The rope is nylon. It’s soft and firm at the same time. I have hemp as well, and I can get silk. We can try them out other times to see what you like best.” He adjusted the rope that went diagonally over her butt cheek to a knot at her waist.

  The touch was an unexpected sensual caress. She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  “No. This feels incredible.”

  He smiled. “It looks incredible on you.” His gaze moved over her body, perhaps seeing a canvas for more knotty designs. He slipped the blindfold back over her eyes. “Now I’m going to restrict your movement.”

  He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. Amy couldn’t remember the last time anybody had tried to pick her up. She yelped, the same sound she made when she found an ant in the house, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Relax, little one. I’ve got you.”

  Given the effortless way he held her, she believed him. And then there were those nicknames he liked to use. Little One. Babe. She had never heard him call anybody else by those terms, so perhaps they weren’t generic terms of familiarity. She relaxed her hold, but she didn’t let go completely. His strong, broad shoulders felt good under her hands.

  He set her on a bed. The mattress was very firm. When he’d removed her blindfold, she’d been too focused on the rope to take in the details of the room, but she had the impression this wasn’t really a guest room, and the bed was a convertible futon. The edge of the bed dipped as he sat down. “I’m going to bind your wrists and ankles so you can’t move.”

  She felt the ends of rope brush against her shoulder and arm as he moved, and she had the sense that he was tying it on his own hand or wrist. Her instinct proved correct when he slipped the nylon rope on her wrist. With one tug, he pulled it tight. He shoved his finger between the rope and her wrist, checking the tension.

  “Roll your wrist in circles.”

  She tried with limited success. “I can’t really, but it’s not too tight or anything.”

  “You’re not supposed to have much movement. I’m looking to make sure it doesn’t cut off the flow of blood, even when you move.” He lifted her arm above her head, and as he stretched it out, he ran his hand along the skin on the sensitive side of her arm. This intimacy shocked Amy, but she didn’t protest. Everything he did made her feel like she belonged to him—and that he cherished her. She really liked that feeling. She barely noticed that he’d tied her to the bed frame.

  He repeated this action as he bound her other arm above her head and her ankles to the foot of the bed. Though he didn’t ask, when he finished, she tested the give and found none. The nylon rope was a little stretchy, but not enough to matter.

  The room was silent. He didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he was looking at his handiwork or if he was planning what to do next. Curiously the lack of vision combined with the silence didn’t make her nervous or anxious. She trusted him completely, and she felt herself submit even though he’d only asked for her cooperation.

  Something tickled over her stomach. She tried to squirm away, but the bondage held up. It went away for a second, but it came back to tease her thigh before migrating to her chest above her bra and continuing up her arm. He tested it all over her body, returning again and again to the places where she seemed the most responsive. Then he added a new toy, something that scratched lightly instead of tickling. He used them together, one after the other, and soon she felt like a quivering, writhing mass.

  And she was growing very horny. Every time she moved or breathed deeply, the knots in the rope pressed into her skin and they seemed to stimulate erogenous zones. Did he know what he’d done? Part of her wondered how he could be ignorant, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he had no idea. Jordan was, after all, a man, and men were frequently clueless.

  It took her a few moments to realize he wasn’t doing anything anymore. She expected him to untie her, but next she felt a weird tingling sensation running up her legs. It crossed over her panties and traveled all over her stomach. Amy didn’t love her midsection. It was an area she mostly tried to disguise with shirts and dresses that hugged her breasts and floated over her waist and stomach. For the most part, the distraction worked. Laying here in her bra and panties, she was completely exposed, and Jordan didn’t seem to think he should avoid her plushy middle. And she was glad. She’d never known her belly was that sensitive, or that it could send pleasant tingles to both her breasts and her pussy.

  He worked her over with that toy for a little while. By the time he finished, she was nearly out of her mind with tormented bliss. For the next few minutes, she could still feel the effect of that little wheel rolling over her skin. He rolled her over and retied her legs. Her hands were tied close together, and the turning didn’t seem to affect anything, but he still adjusted the ties at that end.

  “How do you feel, little one?”

  “Great.” She mumbled into the sheet. With tremendous effort, she lifted her head. “Tingly and like I couldn’t lift my limbs even if they weren’t tied, but not tired.” Her words still sounded slurred.

  He smoothed his fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face and off her neck. Wordlessly he ran a rough caress all over her back, butt, and the backs of her legs. When he returned, he included her arms. It wasn’t as intimate as when he’d touched the underside of her upper arms, but he made up for that with the way he touched her ass. To her recollection, friends didn’t feel up each other’s asses unless they were friends with benefits. “Your backside is less sensitive than your front side. Remember to use your safeword if you need to, okay? I will only get angry if you don’t use your safeword when you should have.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t see where he’d do anything that would lead to needing to call caution. It was likely she’d only need to use it if her bladder suddenly woke up.

  The next time he touched her, his hands felt funny. It didn’t take long to realize his fingertips were pulsing. He started at her shoulders and worked his way down. She recognized the deep pulses from when Layla had shown off Dustin’s e-stim machine in their playroom, only these seemed to be attached to Jordan’s fingertips. No matter. He cranked up the juice, and it felt like a deep-tissue massage. By the time he made it to her ass, which he didn’t skip, her whole body felt like jelly.

  She floated. Her mind had taken flight, and the light sting singing over her large muscles groups only kept her there. When her consciousness landed what seemed like hours later, she found herself wrapped in a soft sheet and Jordan’s arms. Stretched out on the bed next to her, he’d tucked her against his side with her head using his shoulder as a pillow
.

  “Welcome back.” His voice was soft and soothing, and it pulled her the rest of the way back.

  Amy didn’t know what to say. How did one go about thanking the man who’d rocked her world without even kissing her? She tried to sit up, but he tightened his grip.

  “Don’t move yet. You’ll get lightheaded if you sit up too quickly.” He stroked her hair. “Besides, this is the aftercare part. Never rush the aftercare.”

  Amy knew what aftercare was, but she thought it was for intense sessions where bruising might happen. She rubbed her wrist. The rope was gone, but the texture had left an imprint in her skin. She lifted it out of the sheet to see. He held her wrist up higher so he could see it as well.

  “You have marks like that all over your body. They’ll stay for maybe an hour.”

  “More, probably.” She thought about the marks her socks made in her legs. Sometimes the argyle patterns didn’t go away until the next morning. “That’s okay. I like the way it looks.”

  He chuckled, but she mostly felt it in the vibration of his body. “You did very well, babe.”

  She had done nothing but lay there and let him do stuff to her, and so accepting the compliment didn’t sit well with her. “You were the awesome one. Thank you for this. Now I know for sure it’s what I want, that I was right in the way I’ve been pursuing a place in this kinky lifestyle.”

  He tensed for a second, but then he relaxed and released her wrist. “There’s a lot more to the lifestyle than what we did tonight.”

  “I know, and I’m looking forward to learning.”

  He sat up slowly, taking her with him. She was glad for his assistance because even with it, she felt a little dizzy. He steadied her. “Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll order a pizza, and we can talk about how you want to go about learning.”

  Wordlessly she nodded. Was he offering to train her, or did he want to give her advice about what to look for in a potential Dom? Maybe he wanted to relieve Malcolm’s burden and take over fielding offers for her? Even though he’d said there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d do that, perhaps he’d changed his mind. Or was he trying to figure out how to tell her this was a one-time deal? If his behavior before was confusing, it was even more so now.

  Glancing around the room, she saw that her initial guess had been right. Though he called it a guest room, and it had a bed, it was mostly an office. The bed would convert back to a sofa, and the desk with huge cupboards would once again dominate the space. A number of implements were set out on the desk’s surface. The only real concession to this being a bedroom was the mirrored closet.

  “Amy?”

  Despite agreeing to his suggestion, she hadn’t moved. “What did you use on me?”

  Jordan glanced at the array of toys on the desk. “Not everything. I wanted choices, and I picked things based on how you reacted to the other things.”

  Tucking the sheet around her body, she crossed the two feet to the desk and picked up a feather duster. “This?”

  “Yeah. You’re ticklish.”

  She hadn’t been ticklish in years. “It seems so.” Her gaze roved over the rest of the items. Some looked harmless, like a pair of gloves or a silicone bulb. Others were sinister. She picked up a metal rod with a wheel of spikes at one end. “Not this.”

  “Yes, that. You liked that a lot.” He pointed to the silver gloves. “Those are e-stim gloves. They generate an electrical current where I touch, and I can control the intensity. You liked the most intense setting, which is just a light setting on an e-stim machine.” Next he picked up a short whip that had metal points on each end. “You liked this too.”

  Amy took it from him gently, as if the thing might come alive and bite her. “This looks like it would leave scars.”

  “If you use it as a whip, it probably would.” He extracted it from her grip and trailed the falls over her arm. It was the light scratching sensation she had loved. He set it down and picked up an even shorter whip with thin rubber falls. “I used this on you when you were in subspace. It seemed to keep you there. You didn’t even start to come out until about ten minutes after I stopped.”

  “I remember that. It stung, but in a good way.” The descriptions Darcy used about how impact play sent her to subspace finally made sense. “Does that mean I’m a masochist?”

  “No. Masochists like pain. You like pleasure. Some of the pleasure you like has a light sting to it. If you want, we can explore that avenue further at another time. I’m not a sadist, Amy. I get no pleasure from inflicting pain on a submissive.”

  Amy looked over the toys he’d set out. “Are you saying you want to do this again? Why? What do you get out of it?”

  Jordan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m hungry. Let me call in an order. Get dressed, and we’ll talk about it over dinner.”

  Twenty minutes later, Amy sat on his minimalist sofa and munched a slice of pizza. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that hungry. Jordan, by contrast, ate pizza with a fork, and that slowed him down significantly. He’d finished two slices by the time Amy inhaled three and a side salad with ranch dressing.

  “I owe you lasagna,” she said. “Or steak. Which do you prefer?”

  He finished chewing and wiped a napkin over his mouth. “I’m always thankful whenever I get a home cooked meal. I don’t care what it is.”

  That wasn’t helpful. Amy indulged in a pout.

  Jordan smirked. “Babe, we need to talk about our arrangement.”

  “What arrangement?” She knew what he was talking about, but they didn’t have an arrangement. “You said you’d help me figure out if I wanted to really be in a D/s relationship, and you did. Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “Very little of what we did was D/s. I topped you, sure, and we engaged in some kinky play, but that’s all. There was no submission.”

  Oh, but she’d submitted completely. She frowned. “I got to subspace.”

  “Yes, you did. However, submission should be voluntarily and purposely given.”

  She understood what he meant. “I should have knelt and other submissive stuff?”

  He set his crumpled napkin down and nailed her to the spot with the intensity of his stare. “Is that what you want?”

  Yeah, she did. “With the right person, I do. Darcy taught me some basic kneeling positions and submissive poses.” Some of those poses were definitely sexual, so probably not what Jordan had in mind. “Jordan, are you saying you want to scene with me again? You said there was a lot more, and I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anybody.”

  He just kept looking at her.

  She panicked. “Or if I’m totally off base, we can forget all of this happened and go back to being friends like we were this morning.”

  “You’re not off base. I’d like to scene with you, but I’m going to require more from you.”

  Amy nodded when he paused, her signal that she was listening. It made sense that he’d want more. After all, relationships were a two-way street. She couldn’t take from him without giving something in return or else she’d feel like a shitty person.

  “Kneeling before a scene is essential. It’s symbolic of our relationship, and it shows respect.” He sipped his drink. “But most of what I want is outside of a scene.”

  Now Amy was really confused. Then it dawned on her. “You’re talking about training me.”

  “Yes. I will give you tasks to complete. Some will be daily. Others will be weekly.”

  Amy twisted her napkin anxiously. “Will we still be friends?”

  “Yes. That’s my first and most important demand. No matter what happens, no matter where this goes or doesn’t go, we’ll still be friends. If, at any time, either of us wants to end the D/s aspect of our friendship, we will. There will be no recriminations or reprisals from the other party.”

  Was he talking about sex? Because she didn’t run around sleeping with her friends. Swallowing her nerves, she forged ahead. “Then we’re k
eeping it platonic?”

  “For now, yes.”

  So there was a chance for taking this further. “What if I don’t want to do the tasks?”

  “We will agree upon suitable consequences.”

  She thought about him turning her over his knee and spanking her. The image did not appeal to her. She frowned. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with discipline.”

  “Having discipline isn’t negotiable. The form it takes, however, is.”

  “Form? Don’t Doms just spank subs whenever they misbehave? I’ve heard Malcolm go after Darcy.” The first time, she’d been horrified, but when Darcy had returned, she’d been both subdued and glowing. Though Amy was curious, she didn’t want to wear those shoes.

  “That’s what they’ve negotiated, and I’ve known Mal for a long time. The spanking was Darcy’s idea.”

  Amy didn’t like the path they were on. “What are your ideas?”

  “It depends on the misbehavior. I’m partial to corner time.”

  She stared to see if he’d crack a smile and tell her that he was kidding. A minute passed, and his expression remained the same. “You mean, if I fail to complete a task, then I have to stand in a corner?” Her heat beat faster. Nobody had ever suggested such a thing in her life. It seemed like an old-fashioned punishment for a child.

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until I tell you it’s over. At that point, you’ll crawl to me, kneel at my feet, apologize, and ask for forgiveness.”

  Was it wrong that the image of her doing that made her feel both peaceful and excited? “I’ll have to think about that. What kinds of tasks would you give me?”

  He leaned forward. “Are you agreeing to my terms, little one? Would you like me to train you?”

  She couldn’t imagine doing the things she’d done tonight with anybody else. “Yeah. I’m agreeing to your terms, but we still have a lot to negotiate.”

  “We do. Negotiation is an ongoing process. We will sit down regularly to evaluate where we’ve been and where we’re going.” He put another slice of pizza onto his plate. “First task: write a letter to me detailing what submission means to you.”