When the car pulled up to the W– residences, Reeves got out of the driver's seat and walked around to open the back door on the passenger side. An elegant hand stretched forth.
"Thank you Reeves. Could you help me out?"
With his support, she stepped out of the car, and stumbled. She was missing a heeled shoe.
"Ma'am! Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine." She straightened and cleared her throat, hands busy arranging her dress, the skirt of which had a long rip up the side which hadn't been part of the original design. Her hair was a mess, her makeup in disarray, but she made her way in slowly, albeit unevenly, with her head held high.
Keary, dark hair tousled, emerged from the shadows of the backseat, tugging his shirt and jacket and tie into place as he stood. He nodded at Reeves, then started off after Edith. Shoulders back and walking tall just a few paces behind her, he seemed completely composed and put together, except for the lipstick stains smudged all over his face.
They made it through the lobby, past the staff, who were well-trained enough not to stare or ask questions, and were finally in the lift when their eyes met and they burst into wild laughter. Grabbing the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him towards her, revelling in the taste of his kiss and the feeling of his warmth pressing her firmly against the elevator wall.
She hurried him through the corridor, stripping him of his jacket and tie, but once the door had shut behind them, her kisses turned aggressive, teeth nipping at his lips more and more viciously until she bit him, hard, on the neck.
"Ah…" Even as the strength drained from his limbs, he felt himself growing stiff again. "E–"
She slapped him across the face, just lightly enough not to truly hurt, then grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands on either side of him. "You will address me as Mistress."
He smiled. She was extremely aroused; that much was clear from the expression and flush on her face, and he knew from their times together that she favoured domination play.
"Alright then, Mistress E. How would you like me to be for you tonight?"
She grabbed his hair and forced his head back, running her tongue up the length of his neck. "Naked and kneeling on the rug, facing the couch," she whispered in his ear, before biting him again so that he growled with lust. "And wear the collar."
"Yes, Mistress."
Minutes later, he heard her come out from the bedroom. He had moved the coffee table aside, and was waiting for her as instructed.
"Very good," she purred. In her hands, she toyed with a flogger. "Do you know why you're here?"
"No, Mistress." He couldn't help smirking, and was rewarded with a lash of her flogger on his arm.
"You behaved very poorly at dinner today, and you need to be punished."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Hold both your elbows behind your back." When he obeyed, she looped a cord around his forearms, binding them together, before attaching a leash to his collar, then around the sofa leg. This was nothing new, but he felt a twinge of nervousness when she tied a sash around his eyes. He never liked being blind to what was around him, but before he could say anything, he felt long leather tassels of the flogger trail unhurriedly across his skin, before carouselling slowly up his spine. The light, tickling brushes made him shudder and tense as they traced over his body, and when a sudden lash hit him on his ribs, he sucked in a sharp breath.
He soon gave up trying to anticipate when the irregular blows would land, losing sense of time as she worked him until he was panting. When she finally laid the flogger across his shoulder, he guessed that she was preparing something else, but was not ready for the sensation of something cold, firm and long pressing into him from behind.
"Uh, Edith…?"
His head was yanked back harshly. "It's 'Mistress'," she hissed, before her tongue invaded his mouth. But as she pulled back, her tone changed, dropping into gentleness as she spoke into his ear. "Do you trust me?"
He swallowed, his breathing uneven. She saw his jaw clench several times before he softly answered, "I trust you."
"Good." She placed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Do you remember our safeword?" When he nodded, she commanded, "Say it."
"Panama."
"Say it again."
"Panama."
"Good boy. You know what to do if it gets too much."
She released his hair, and in the next moment he was groaning as the pressure began again, pushing very slowly into him until he felt strangely full. As she pulled it out slowly, the tip of the tool brushed against something inside him that made him gasp and buck.
"Shh." She touched his back soothingly. "Try to relax," she told him, then began inserting the dildo into him again. She repeated the process over and over, moving it deeper and deeper, rubbing that spot inside him with each stroke until he was covered in sweat and shaking with need.
"Are you okay?" Her voice sounded low next to his ear.
He found that he couldn't speak, but managed to give a single nod. The motion caused a drop of sweat to fall from his nose and land quietly on the rug.
"Good."
He heard her move around behind him, and clamped his teeth down on a grunt as the dildo went still deeper, pressing firmly against his prostate. He was in the midst of trying to get used to the feeling of the foreign object within him when a button clicked, and it began to vibrate.