The snowstorm paralyzed London; for three days, transportation came to a virtual standstill, and power outages sent the city into chaos, but Henry, being Henry, had been prepared for such a disaster. When he lost electricity, his generator kicked in; tucked away in one of his guest rooms he had a seven-day supply of food and water; and his freezer was fully stocked. What was a dreadful time for most had been a romantic holiday for Henry and Jane.
Forced into hibernation, they had lounged in bed watching DVDs of Fawlty Towers and a host of other classic BBC shows, and on the second night of their forced confinement, Henry introduced her to his steel handcuffs, placing her under arrest.
They had been cuddling in bed, both naked, enjoying an episode of The Avengers with Emma Peel and John Steed, and as the show came to an end, he rolled over, propped himself up on an elbow, and gazed down at her.
“You really are a very naughty girl.”
“I suppose I am, in a way,” she admitted, “but we all do what we must to survive.”
“I think I should arrest you and pass sentence.”
“You already did that once, remember?”
“True, but apparently it didn’t have the desired effect. You’re still working.”
“I haven’t lifted anyone’s wallet,” she giggled, shooting him a mischievous wink.
“Right, that does it!” he exclaimed, jumping from the bed. “Don’t you go anywhere.”
“Where would I go?”
“There’s that cheeky girl again,” he said, shaking his finger at her. “I doubt you’ll be so full of yourself by the time I’m done with you.”
Sitting up, watching him march into his closet, she decided that one day she’d might just take a poke around and see if she could find his box of tricks, but when he came out holding handcuffs in one hand and a flogger in the other, all such thoughts quickly evaporated.
“Out of the bed,” he said sharply, “and hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.”
A flurry of butterflies began wildly fluttering in the pit of her belly, and slipping from between the sheets, she was unable to take her eyes from the ominous-looking black leather implement.
As she did as he instructed and placed her hands behind her back, he threw the flogger onto the bed; she stared down at it, a shiver of fear slicing down her spine.
It had been purposeful, of course. Henry was building her anticipation, and seeing the goosebumps come alive on her skin, he knew placing it in her line of sight was working its magic. With her wrists securely in the cuffs, he slipped his fingers between her pussy lips.
“You’re wet,” he muttered. “It appears punishment has this effect on you. Clearly you know you deserve it. Let’s see just how much, shall we?”
She wriggled against his touch, then moaned softly as he lingered and teased inside her slick seam before withdrawing his hand.
“I’ve never been flogged,” she whimpered.
“Then it’s about time,” he declared, and grasping a fistful of hair, he laid her over the bed, then pushed her hands up to her waist, the steel of the handcuffs flashing as it caught the flame’s light from the fireplace.
“Keep them there,” he said, pressing her hands into her back. “I find you guilty of lying, manipulating, and breaking all kinds of laws, too many to name. Your sentence is as follows: a sound hand spanking, followed by six lashes. Does the prisoner have anything to say before sentence is passed?”
“Uh, mercy, Sir?”
“Have you shown your victims mercy?”
“Uh, I guess not, but many of them have been deserving of what I do, and you know I’m very generous with needy people.”
“I shall take that into consideration. It won’t prevent me from dispatching justice, but it might persuade me to allow you an orgasm when I’m done.”
Every nerve in Jane’s body was firing. His stern demeanor, and the roleplay itself, was sending a white-hot heat through her body. She could feel the warm wetness flooding her sex, and she closed her eyes as she sank into the mattress, waiting for his peppery palm to begin its punishment.
Standing beside her, Henry gazed at her beautiful bottom poised and waiting for his discipline. The silver shackles around her wrists sitting in the gentle arch of her back made her position even more provocative, and as he began to spank, his cock surged to life. He delivered the smarting smacks swiftly, traveling his flattened hand across the fullness of her backside until her skin had turned a rosy pink. By the time he was satisfied, she was huffing and puffing into the comforter, and when he stopped, she turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder.
“Sir,” she bleated, “it’s so hot.”
“Not as hot as it will be,” he declared, pushing his fingers into her sex.
Letting out a long, low groan, Jane buried her head back into the bed and thrust out her hips in response. She was soaked and wanted him desperately, but she was also drawn to the flogger. How would it feel? Would it hurt terribly? Why did she even want to find out?
“Time for the lashes,” he announced, and withdrawing his hand from her pussy, he reached past her and picked up the mystifying flogger.
He heard her utter a strange mewling sound, and he draped the long, black leather tendrils across her backside, gliding them over her skin.
“Six, with a silent count of three between each stroke.”
She wished her hands were free so she could grasp the bedcovers, or wrap her arms around the pillow and hug it, then she realized that’s why he had cuffed her; he had done so to exacerbate the punishment. Just as the thought floated through her head, she felt the flogger lift away, and seconds later, the tongues swished across her bottom.
It was a hot, thick, heavy pain that burned through her skin, but it was strangely, stunningly glorious. She had barely caught her breath when the second landed, then the third, and she was lost in the heat of it, consumed by the fire spreading through her body. When he delivered the last lash and announced that her punishment was over, she found herself wanting to ask for another. His hands began roaming over her cheeks, rubbing and fondling, his cock was suddenly against her, then thrusting forward, plunging into her depths. His fingers were clutching her hips, his pelvis slapping against her burning skin as he pumped, and a huge orgasm was suddenly upon her.
“Come,” he growled, ramming her vigorously, “come now.”
Rising up like lava from a volcano, the eruption came from deep inside her body, and she cried out as the convulsions threatened to break her into a thousand pieces. They vibrated through her, shooting tingling sparks into her limbs, and when they finally abated and she opened her eyes, she saw him flopping on the bed next to her.
“Henry,” she whispered, “please hold me, please hold me and never let me go.”
Rapidly removing the handcuffs, he cradled her tightly, awash with a deep longing to always have her in his bed. Silent minutes ticked by, then kissing her warmly, he slipped away and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he found her with her head propped up by pillows.
“I need to talk to you,” she said as he climbed back into bed. “I need to tell you who I am and where I came from.”
He listened attentively, and while it was obvious Bernie had been a clever man, Henry worried that Jane was living in a house of cards. Without studying the documents pertaining to the home and its contents, it was impossible to know.
“I’ll give you all the paperwork,” she promised, letting out a long yawn. “You can have your solicitor check it. I’ve never thought about it before, but now I’d like to know as well.”
“Good. Now we both must sleep,” he declared, feeling completely worn out himself.
“Yes, please,” she sighed, and snuggling against him, felt sleep wash over her before another thought could enter her head.
By late Wednesday evening, the forecasters promised the worst was over. Curled up in Henry’s lap on the couch in front of the television, Jane was mesmerized by the images of the carnage wrought by the first major storm of the season. It had landed early, suggesting a long winter, and Jane was deeply grateful she’d been safe with Henry when it had descended.
“I’m so worried about my house,” she muttered nervously. “Do you think it survived?”
“It looked solid to me,” Henry said reassuringly, “though if your area lost power you might have a messy refrigerator.”
“I hope that’s all,” she sighed. “I remember a few years back we had a storm like this, and it was fine, so, fingers crossed.”
“I think I should go back there with you.”
“Of course. I want to, very much. If there are any problems you can pick up some fresh clothes and come back here,” then pausing, he added, “I like having you in my house.”
“You do?” she asked, sitting up and smiling at him.
“You know I do, besides, I’ll be worried. I need to know that you’re safe.”
“You are the best man ever,” she said earnestly. “How did I get so lucky?”
“You tried to steal my wallet, remember?”
“That’s like the opposite of ‘no good deed goes unpunished,’” she giggled. “I did a bad deed and got a fabulous reward.”
“Cheeky Jane,” he grinned, “what am I going to do with you?”
“I’m sure you have the answer to that!”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I have something very wicked in store for you tonight.”
“Yes, you might well be worried,” he mused, raising an eyebrow, “and now that the idea has come to me, I suggest you make yourself presentable.”
“Hot scented bath, then naked on the bed. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
“But it takes five minutes to fill the tub!”
“Then I suggest you get started,” he declared looking at his watch. “You’ll get a smack on each cheek for every second you keep me waiting, starting… now!”
Letting out a squeal, she jumped to her feet and scurried away, and as Henry watched her disappear down the hall he let out a contented sigh. He really did love having her in his home. He was loath to let her leave, but he knew their idyllic time away from the real world was coming to an end. He’d soon be back to work; she’d be off doing God knows what and risking her freedom playing loose with the law. It was a dreadful dilemma.
Even though the storm had caused havoc, he still had Internet service, and reaching for his laptop, he powered it on to check his mail. Cruising through the many messages, he opened a few, including one from his older sister, Sara. She lived in Esher, a suburb out of the city, had three daughters under ten, and somehow had found the time to start a small business making doll’s clothes. It amazed him, but Sara was very bright. He’d been surprised when she’d chosen to be a stay-at-home wife and mother, but she’d taken to her role with uncompromising zeal.
Though his sister’s note was full of her family’s news, including her desire to host Christmas, she was writing to ask if he knew anyone who could help her with her website. Her webmaster was in demand, and she was tired of waiting days for help when issues arose. He sent her a quick reply promising to ask around, and suggested that their parents probably wouldn’t want to give up the traditional weekend gathering at the family’s country home. In addition to Sara, Henry had a younger brother, Charles, starting out in the business world. Like Henry, Charles had a head for numbers, but was seeking a career in banking, choosing it over the more cerebral route Henry had pursued.
As Henry closed his computer, his sister’s email suddenly brought home the extreme contrast between his life and Jane’s. His family wasn’t perfect by any means, but he had grown up in a beautiful home with loving parents, shared his boyhood with siblings, and had been given an excellent education. Christmas was always special, with a Christmas tree trimming party, and a weekend of marvelous meals surrounded by extended family, both staying over and stopping in to visit. Life had given Jane none of these precious gifts, and though Henry had always counted himself lucky, it was dawning on him just how fortunate he was.
“I don’t know how you’ve spent the holidays in past years, but you’re going to have a proper Christmas this year,” he mumbled. “That I promise you.”
Glancing at his watch, he saw time was almost up, and he rose from the couch and wandered across to the windows. There wasn’t much to see. The blanket of crystalline white he’d been looking at for what felt much longer than three days was virtually unchanged, and he shifted his mind back to the gorgeous girl who would soon be at his mercy. As the image of what he was about to do floated through his head, he felt himself relax. A knowing smile curled the edges of his lips, and turning slowly around, he started toward his bedroom.
Though Jane had soaked for only a short time, it had been long enough for her to sink into the jasmine-scented water and reminisce about the days she’d just shared with Henry. She’d never been so happy. They weren’t just comfortable in each other’s company; they had developed an affectionate camaraderie and a banter that would usually end up in laughter. He was loving and warm and oh-so sexy, and sleeping next to him was heavenly. She’d never felt lonely in the past, and she loved her house, but she didn’t relish the thought of returning to her life. She was going to miss him, his home, sitting across the dining table from him, laughing with him… she was going to miss it all!
Once out of the tub and sitting on the bed waiting for him, her melancholy evaporated. Henry was full of surprises, and she was eager to experience his latest decadent delight. When he entered she looked up at him expectantly, then followed him with her eyes as he wordlessly walked across the room and into his closet. She knew what that meant; he was digging into his box of naughty tricks. Her butterflies were already flitting around in her stomach, and lying back, she closed her eyes as she rested her fingers against her sex, not surprised to find she was already wet.
“Scoot down, your head off the pillow,” he said, approaching her. “You need to be flat.”
Opening her eyes and shuffling down the bed, she saw the familiar leather cuffs, but he was carrying four, not just a pair. They were quickly secured, and when she saw him withdraw the blindfold from his pocket, she took in a breath. Being engulfed in the dark, hearing sounds and not knowing what they meant, sent a thrill through her body and made her feel utterly helpless. It was a sense of freedom she didn’t understand, but she loved it. He was smiling down at her, a villainous glint in his eye.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
“That would be telling,” he chuckled. “Close your eyes.”
He placed the satin scarf around her head, but she felt him tie it at the side, not the back as he’d done before. What did it mean? His hands were suddenly gripping her calves, and to her astonishment, he raised her legs and brought them across her body and over her head. As he secured the shackles around her ankles to the ones at her wrists, she let out a grunt of protest. He had placed her in an uncomfortable and extremely lewd position.
“There, all your lovely charms laid open.”
“I feel so…” she whispered, unable to finish the sentence.
“So exposed? That’s because you are,” he said, smoothing his hand down the back of her thigh and across her upturned cheeks. “I can inspect you, I can explore you, I can spank you, I can do whatever pleases me.”
“Sir,” she whispered, “you’re making me so hot.”
“Am I? Hot? Do you think you have a fever?”
“Not that kind of hot, I mean—”
“I think we should make sure,” he said, cutting her off. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go anywhere?” she quipped. “You mean, like, bounce down the stairs and out the front door into the snow on my back?”
Sharp smacks instantly landed on each cheek. She yelped loudly, but when he tickled her anus, she squealed out in protest.
“Cheeky Jane, silly girl, I don’t think you should be testing the waters right now, do you?”
“No, Sir, I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I’ll behave.”
“It would be wise.”
Henry’s cock had surged to life, and stepping away from the bed, he began to remove his clothes, staring at the splendid sight as he did. He’d been amazed at their compatibility. Everything he’d thrown at her, she had embraced with abandon. He felt alive, energized, and excited. Was it true joy he was feeling? Moving into the bathroom, he retrieved the thermometer, dipping it into a jar of coconut oil. Ambling back to her, he wished she could see the grin on his face, but he wanted her focused, and focus was what the blindfold provided.
“Let’s see just how hot you are,” he crooned, touching the end of the thin, oiled glass tube to her most private part.
“Yes, Jane?” he asked, pushing it forward.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
“Don’t move,” he said firmly.
His command hadn’t been unnecessary. She was frozen. The tickling intruder was tiny, but it felt like a giant dildo, and it seemed like forever before he finally pulled it out. When he announced that she did indeed have a fever, she almost believed him; her face was burning.
“We need to remove the cause of the heat. You’re much too aroused,” he declared, sliding his fingers into her pussy. “You’re positively drenched. I’m sorry, young lady, but you’re in need of an orgasm. It’s the only cure.”
“Sir…” she whimpered, his words sending her butterflies into a wild dance, but he began twirling his finger around her clit, teasing her forward, and all thought left her.
She could feel her thighs tightening. His erotic massage was intensely tantalizing, and when he plunged his finger into her sex, then placed his mouth over her clit and hungrily lapped, she let out a loud cry. She was already nearing the edge, and if he continued tonguing her magic nub and thrusting his finger in and out, there would be no holding back. To her joy he didn’t stop, and sent her into a glorious orgasm that left her breathlessly mumbling his name.
Waiting until her convulsions had waned, he released her ankles from her wrists and slowly lowered her legs, then stretched out beside her, cuddling her through her post-orgasmic bliss. When she let out a heavy breath and began to move against him, he kissed her lovingly, then journeyed his lips to her neck, before traveling them to her breasts to slowly draw in her nipples.
“Hmmm, your chest is very red, and quite warm,” he remarked, laying his palm flat on her chest. “I believe you still have a fever. I’m afraid this calls for another climax,” he declared, moving off the bed. “Arms above your head, please.”
It only took him seconds to secure her wrists to the headboard, then he instructed her to close her legs, and though she couldn’t see him, she heard his footfalls as he moved away. She knew he had returned to his closet, but he was back quickly, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“Mercy,” she begged, “please, have mercy.”
“No mercy for the wicked,” he declared, snapping her ankle cuffs together, then, burying something between her thighs, he rested it against her pussy. “Are you ready?”
“Ooh, Henry, what is it? It feels like a cricket ball.”
“Are you ready?” he repeated patiently.
“Yes,” she muttered, “for whatever it is.”
The gentle buzzing elicited an immediate response, and she moaned loudly as she wriggled against the mind-numbing vibrator. Sitting next to her on the bed, he delighted in her squirming; he took hold of the wand, changed the speed from slow to medium, then pressed it back against her. He was tempted to engage in some teasing and denial, but she was already hurtling forward, and as her back arched and she wailed through the powerful climax, a wave of energy gushed through his cock.
She was panting, her chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths. Gathering his wits, he quickly switched off the vibrator and hurriedly unsnapped her ankle cuffs, then released her wrists from the headboard. The moment he lay down, her arms came around him, and she nestled her head into his chest.
“My God, Henry,” she gasped, “that was unbelievable.”
“Catch your breath,” he purred, “just relax and catch your breath.”
Closing his eyes, he could feel they were cloaked in deep intimacy. It was far beyond sex, far beyond anything he’d shared with a woman, and he was overcome with a need to be inside her. As he rolled away to reach for a condom, he could feel her clinging to him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, finding the package and quickly sheathing his rigid cock.
“Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I need you to be next to me.”
Moving on top of her, he gently pulled off her blindfold, and as she blinked open her eyes he locked her gaze, then slid inside her welcoming pussy.
“You’re going to come for me again,” he said firmly.
“I know,” she bleated. “I can already feel it.”
Her admission spurred him on, and raising himself up, he settled on his knees, clutched her hips, and plunged forward. Shifting his focus to her cherry-tipped breasts moving in time with his thrusts, he could feel his cock was already wanting to burst, but he was determined to wait it out. He slowed, allowing the moment to pass, then accelerated, and continued the pattern until she called out his name, and he saw her fingers curl into fists.
“Now, Henry, now,” she wailed. “Please, now.”
He exploded into his sheath, squeezing his eyes shut as the strong spasms shot through his body, sure his heart was going to thump itself out of his chest. When the spasms finally began to abate and his cock fell from her depths, he collapsed next to her, rolling onto his back and forcing himself to take deep breaths. She was curling into him, and he managed to move his arm enough to drop it around her shoulder. Quiet moments passed, until she let out a long, deep sigh and shifted against him.
“Can I ask you something,” she murmured, “something I probably shouldn’t?”
“As long as it doesn’t require me moving from this bed,” he replied, knowing he needed to reach for a tissue but didn’t have the strength to do even that.
“What you just did, what we just did, is it, uh, normal for you?”
He knew what she was asking, and he understood why she was asking it. She was as spellbound as he was.
“No, not even close,” he said softly. “Nothing about this is normal for me.”
Enveloping her into his arms, he wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure what it was, so he just held her, and knew the right words would come when they were meant to.
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