The Dominant Male

cigarette and coffee in hand, as he liked to. Afterwards, slowly and attentively, tugging her ass cheek to one side meanwhile, he had lubricated her anus with a water-based lube and slid the vibe slowly and partially inside, far enough that she could not expel it by the action of her ring alone, which instead had seemed to grip it more firmly when she’d tried. Then he’d cupped her behind as he’d led her to the chair, upholstered in the same Napa as his vaulting horse, restraining her, she’d thought, to pleasure her, perhaps languidly, playing with her cunt as the seat forced the vibe further between her ass cheeks.
    He had taken the time to chain her waist to the chair so that she could not rise, and she’d thought this curious as it also prevented her from sliding forward far enough to expose her splayed quim lips to him, though it did also preclude even a chance of expelling the vibrator. Her wrists had been cuffed to the arms of the chair with the institutional cuffs from the night before, with a length of chain that allowed her about a foot of play with each – enough to reach the other cuff. But no matter – they had both been locked fast. Ankle-cuffs had secured her legs to the bar that raised the chair, in front of its hefty, weighted base. This was not the stuff of tight constraint but longer-term restraint, and she’d wondered what he’d had in mind.
    This became clear when he’d swung the chair through ninety degrees to face his desk. The open laptop, a blank Word document up on its screen, had seemed to taunt her, wordlessly indeed, and her open, un-made-up face must have creased when she had realised what he had had in mind. On one corner of his desk had lain an old, pre-tied bow-tie, cast there after an awards dinner he’d hurriedly attended some days previously, and he’d walked round behind her, leant towards her ear and had whispered, ‘For a little added humiliation,’ as he’d fastened it at her helpless neck.
    Next, he’d placed a pair of rubber-tipped nipple-clamps onto her nipples, releasing them slowly, having acclimatised her fleshy red buds with nips and tweaks of his fingers, cupping and squeezing her breasts. Still, their burn had intensified slowly, making her jiggle and exclaim for the first time in all this. Giving the chain between them a little tug downwards, he’d said, ‘That’s if I think you’re slacking.’ But as if realising this was counter-productive, he’d added, ‘Seriously, you can remove them if you want – you can reach – but if you do, you’ll get a spanking. It’s your choice.
    ‘Also seriously, you can stop when you’ve written – let’s see - one thousand five hundred words. If you really feel it’s not going anywhere after that, you can delete it, and delete it from the trash. But until then, write for yourself. I won’t read it if you ask me not to. I’ll keep you supplied with drinks, victuals and cigs – you’ll have to bend your head down to have a drag, I admit – but you’ll have your creature comforts. Unless, that is, you don’t get on with it, in which case I won’t hesitate to use this on your ass…’ He waved the remote control ‘…And if I hear too much from you, I’ll get the gag – the one you can’t beat.
    ‘And if you don’t make progress – you’re allowed some thinking time, of course – but if you really don’t make progress, I’ll fasten your wrists properly to those chair-arms, I’ll take that cheap and nasty ball gag – the one you can push out with your tongue if you crane your neck back far enough – and I’ll make a hole in the centre of it. I’ll put a pencil or a dowel rod in that hole and I will make you peck out every single letter by dipping your head like a bird to peck your chosen laptop key. And don’t think there’s any leverage to be had in needing a pee. You know you can do that there for all I care. That would be a very slow way to reach one thousand five hundred words.’
    He had indeed set her thinking about the many times he’d been a fiendish bastard to her. It would be as good a place to start as any. She thought of the summer’s day he had wined and dined her, with her naked but for a light summer dress, her bottom tender and oiled post-spanking, nipples and breasts sore from him for the first time. And the autumnal day they had done the same, her naked but for her mackintosh, her hips chafing deliciously against it. She thought of the night he had figged her;