Midlife Correction Ch. 01

She was no fool, no young girl, but how likely was she to ever find something like this again? Her fantasy come true. She'd come here looking for it and now here it was. How could she turn her back on it?

"No," she said. "No, I can't let you."

"I know you can't," he said. "I know that, and I'm not asking. I'm telling you."

His hands came around her, one seizing her breast and the other sliding over her hip and pressing her skirt up between her legs. She quickly clamped her thighs together but too late. He was pushing against her, his hand against her sex and it was just what she wanted, what she needed to feel. His body pressed against her back and Julia pulled at the chains but they held her tight, deliciously tight.

"Miles, don't..."

"Tell me you don't want this," he said. "Tell me that's not why you came here tonight, Julia. You needed to feel these cuffs on your wrist so badly. You needed everything that went with them too, didn't you?"

"No! No!"

"And even if you didn't, it's what I want, and that's enough. I just need for you to be here and let me have my way. I don't need for you to do anything."

His hand dug into her pussy. His fingers found her nipple beneath her bra and he pinched it and spears of pleasure-pain shot through her. It had been so long since she'd been touched. It was like her nerves opened anew. Channels that had been dry for years now gushed with fresh waters and things she thought were dead forever blossomed within her. Julia groaned in denial, trying to hold the flood of sensation back, but it was hopeless. Shame gripped her, shame and excitement.

Miles released her, came around in front of her and took her head in his hands and looked into her eyes, his own eyes burning.

"This is what it's like, Julia. To be touched and taken whether you want it or not. To be used and watched and witnessed. I have enough passion for both of us. That's what you wanted to know, isn't it? What it's like to be desired this way?"

She couldn't look away. His eyes fascinated her—not anger, but lust, sheer masculine hunger. She couldn't escape his gaze. She hung there before him in the chains like pray on a hook and the feeling was insanely arousing. Her thighs were trembling.

"Spread your legs," he said.

She couldn't. It was simply impossible. She was rooted in stone.

"Spread them."

He reached down and pressed against the insides of her thighs, forcing her to part her feet perhaps a foot and half.

"I know you love this," he said. "I can prove it. You want to see?"

He reached beneath her skirt and grabbed her panties and she mewled as he pushed the crotch aside and touched her naked sex, then pulled his finger out to show her.

"Look at that, Julia! Look! You're wet! You're soaking wet! What kind of woman gets wet when she's bound to chains in the back room of a stranger's store?"

"Oh God!" she moaned.

"What kind, Julia? Do you know?"

"Please don't do this!"

He ignored her. "I'm going to make you come, Julia. I'm going to make you orgasm. I'm going to do it right here by touching you."

"Miles—"

"Hold onto the chains, Julia."

"Miles, please."

"Hold on!"

He reached under her skirt again and Julia grabbed hold of the chains and held on tight as he began to stroke the wet slit of her sex with his finger, caressing her, coaxing her, ignoring her shudders and moans of protest. All she had to do was tell him to stop. She knew that, and yet the order wouldn't come. The cuffs had sapped her will, had turned her into someone else. Somehow she was part of a game that was stronger than she was, playing a role she couldn't refuse. She didn't belong to herself anymore. She wasn't hers, she was his, and that's what she wanted, she realized, to be freed of this burden of belonging to herself.

"Keep your legs apart, Julia," he said to her. "Do just what I say. Nothing more, nothing less."

That's what she wanted, to be his body, the body he used. No longer a mother and a divorced wife, no longer a working woman and paralegal, but just this body in his hands with no choice in the matter. She began to respond to him, or rather, her body did, pressing her sex against his hand, against her wishes, moving to increase the contact with the fingers that slid along her most intimate flesh.

She closed her eyes in shame. She was losing it. It felt good. It felt terribly good. She was too old for this, too old and experienced to be seduced like this and yet he was seducing her and she was falling under his spell, letting herself be violated like she was a girl again.

He stopped. He took his hand away from her, abandoning her.

"Wait," he said. "Wait here."

As if she could go anywhere.

He went quickly to the front of the store and now, left alone, her embarrassment and chagrin flooded over her in full force. What was she doing? How was she letting him do this to her? She had to put a stop to this at once and salvage her dignity. She had to stop this while there was still time.

He wasn't gone long, though, and when he returned he held a leather collar.

"I just want you to know what it's like to complete the ensemble," he said. "I want you to wear this for me, to know what it's like." He stepped in front of her and slipped it around her throat, lifting her hair to fit it against her neck in back. He buckled the front buckle.

Julia gasped. While the cuffs had felt powerful and sensual, the feel of the collar was something else entirely. It seemed to break her spirit, or set it at rest, and a deep and a sudden peace set down upon her as he buckled it around her neck, thick and sensual. She felt small and unworthy and indebted to him, as if he'd wrapped her in some robe of exquisite comfort and caring. She felt like she couldn't accept it, but then, she knew it wasn't her place to accept or reject, just to wear it.

He went into the small bathroom and came back with a mirror.

"Here's what you look like."

Her eyes went wide when she saw herself. It was the way she'd always known she should look. Not all of her, and not all the time, but looking back from the mirror was a Julia she'd carried around inside her for so long that she recognized her instantly, and yet she'd never met her before tonight. The tightness, the tension of control was gone from her face and she looked remade and radiant.

"I can't," she said. "I can't wear it."

"You'll wear it for me. I'm giving it to you."

"Miles¼"

She was afraid of it, afraid to take it. She was afraid of who she was when she wore it, and yet she wanted it so much too.

"Now spread your legs."

His words were so callous and raw, yet they thrilled her deeply. She closed her eyes and did what he said, feeling no longer responsible for her actions. He owned her now, at least for these moments, and she shifted her stance as he directed.

Miles slipped his hand between her legs and he began to touch her again, his fingers stroking her through the wet fabric of her panties, and Julia closed her eyes against the shame of having him feel her excitement. He touched her where she had shaved, and the silly presumption of that act came back to haunt her now as he felt the denuded flesh and knew she'd had the vanity to prepare herself for someone. But soon not even her shame mattered, and he pushed her panties to the side and his fingers touched her bare flesh. Julia gasped for breath.

"Oh, don't! Don't!"

But she couldn't control him any more than she could control what was happening to her own body. The lewdness of what he was doing inflamed her, the way he used her without her permission, without her consent, and she began to pant, her shallow breathing punctuated by little moans of unbearable pleasure as his fingers probed and violated her and pushed her to where he wanted her to go, past the point of control and up onto the rocks of self-destruction and absolute release. She couldn't stop him now. She couldn't stop herself. She was aware he was watching her, studying her, and his clinical detachment only made her more aroused. Her grip on herself was loosening, slipping away and she was falling.

"Give it to me, Julia. Give it to me. You know you want to. You know you want to give it to me, and I want it. I need it from you. Give it to me, damn it!"

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her against him as he continued to stroke her between her legs, holding her tight, pressed tightly against him as she began to quiver and shake. Her head fell back in abject surrender and her thighs began to tremble.

"Oh! Oh God!"

"Come for me, Julia! Come for me!"

She raised her head and felt the collar against her neck. His words seemed to make it tighter, and suddenly all of it was too much—standing there with her wrists in chains, his hand in her sex, the collar around her throat. Her orgasm burst upon her with frightful, unexpected force, pushing her aside even as she tried to refuse it and fight it off. She cried out and her body reached for him. She lurched forward in the chains, and Miles was there to grab her and embrace her, holding her against him as she went weak with febrile pleasure, unasked for and irresistible.

She put her face against his shoulder and sobbed, the relief was that intense, that unexpected and that strong, and Julia was glad to have him to lean against as her legs trembled with the force of her release. Miles held her, stroking her hair, keeping her hips pressed against him, making soothing sounds in her ear as if she were some frightened animal.

"All right, all right. You're all right, Julia. That was good. Beautiful, and I've got you now. I've got you."

He stroked her, held her as she trembled in his arms, then he gradually relaxed his grip and let her body part from his. He unclipped her wrists from the chain and helped her sit down in an arm chair.

"Are you cold? Would you like a blanket?" he asked.

Julia pushed her hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand. The rings on the cuffs jingled as she moved her arm but she couldn't stop the trembling. She was unable to look at him or meet his gaze, unable to believe what she'd just done.

"No, I'm all right. Blanket? Why would I want a blanket?"

"I thought you might be chilly, that's all. It's kind of drafty back here."

Now that he mentioned it, she was cold, as if all the blood had left her limbs.

"Yes, you're right. A blanket would be nice, thank you."

He took an afghan from the daybed and spread it over her and Julia hugged it tight. Snow was still falling outside. It was unusually quiet and hushed.

"I'm going to make some tea," he said. "How do you take it?"

She was going to tell him not to bother, but refusing seemed like such trouble.

"Just plain is fine, thank you."

And then she couldn't put it off any longer.

"What did you just do to me?"

A trace of the puckish smile came back as he filled the kettle.

"Do you have to be told when you've been seduced?"

"Maybe I do," she said. "I'm not like this. I'm not in the habit of doing this kind of thing. I don't get 'seduced', especially not by strange men."

Suddenly aware of the collar, she reached up and undid the buckle and slid it off her neck. She was about to toss it on the table when she stopped and looked at it, as if studying it for the source of its power.

"It's yours," he said. "I want you to have it. It's part of a set with the cuffs. They belong together."

Now that he mentioned this, Julia saw it was true. It was a perfect mate to the cuffs on her wrists—her cuffs—the same satin lining, the same fine stitching, same buckle, same silver rings. The power it held over her as she held it and stared at it was extraordinary. She tried not to let it show on her face, but holding it was like holding a part of herself, a part she couldn't bear to part with.

"Is this a habit of yours?" she asked. "Seducing customers? You must run through a lot of collars."

His smile disappeared. "No. As a matter of fact it's not."

Julia put the collar on the table and pulled the blanket back up around her. "You just happen to keep that chain hanging from the ceiling back here?"

He put teabags into two cups. "I put it there for you."

"Oh. So I was the specific target?"

"Yes," he said. "You were."

The water came to a boil and he poured it into the cups.

"You think I'm lying? You think I run some sort of bordello here, that I snatch women off the street and bring them back here and have my way with them?"

"Quite honestly, I don't know what you do, Miles." Julia took the cup he offered her. "But that seems to be what you did in my case. Not that I wasn't asking for it."

"No. I did this for you, Julia. I wanted you since I saw you come into the shop."

She looked at him. "Come on, Miles. We're a little old for that, aren't we? I don't need all that love-at-first-sight nonsense. It was a little more basic than that."

"There's nothing basic about it, Julia. Do you think it's just sex? It's more than that. I haven't had sex with you yet."

"Well, call it a close second then."

"So, let me see now." Miles sat down on the daybed opposite her. "Then I suppose you're feeling seduced and abandoned. I've taken advantage of you and now I'm through with you."

"No. I'm not feeling abandoned at all. And maybe it was you who were taken advantage of, Miles. Did you ever think of that?"

"All right," he said. "If that's what you want to believe. I can certainly see that. Then what happens now?"

"Miles, I'm not looking to get involved. I can't afford it. I have a family to keep together, and I'm too old for this kind of thing anyway. What happened tonight¼"

He looked at her. "Yes? Whatdid happen tonight, Julia?"

She put down her tea and sat up, began unbuckling the cuffs.

"What happened here tonight was nothing," she said. "It was just one of those things. We're both adults here. I don't think we have to pretend it was anything more than what it was."

"And what was that?"

She looked at him sharply. "Miles, I'm not going to be your slave. I'm not going to play any kind of games like that."

"Who said anything about slaves?"

"Never mind. I have to go. I have to get home."

"You'll come back, won't you?"

She finished with the cuffs and stuffed them into her pocket. "I don't know. I'm very busy."

"Julia, come back," he said. "I have things to show you. We didn't do anything tonight. I know what you're like and I know what you're looking for. I know where to find it. Come back tomorrow night. It's Friday. Saturday I have to stay open late."

"I don't think I can."

"Try."

Julia tossed her hair back and stood up. "Thank you for the tea, Miles. Thank you for everything."

"Don't forget the collar."

"What am I going to do with that?"

He smiled. "Tradition says you keep it under your mattress."

"I have two girls at home. What if they find it?"

"But you've worn it now. I can't give it to anyone else. It's yours, Julia. You have to take it."

She took it just to keep him from arguing, put it in her purse and let him walk her to the door. When he tried to kiss her goodnight she refused though. She didn't want to get involved.

* * * * *

"Well! What happened to you? That must have gone well."

Julia closed the door behind her and realized she had an embarrassing glow. She tried to stop. "Yes. It did."

"You made a good impression?" Skip asked her.

"Yes. I think so."

The house smelled like pizza and Julia saw why, as Beth came into the kitchen in her socks and pajamas and ran to the oven. It was 10:45, not too late for Beth to eat.

"Hi, mom. You're just in time for some pizza. Want some?"

"No, no. I couldn't. Where's Mal?"

"She fell asleep." She pulled the pizza out and slid it on the counter and looked at her mother as she hung up her coat. "Wow, you're looking good. Things went okay, huh?"

"Yes, yes. Things went fine, fine! I guess I'm just a little hyped" Julie went to the cabinet and got two wine glasses. She poured some wine for herself and for Skip.

"Ryan called," Skip announced. "He's got some papers for you to sign."

"What kind of papers?"

"I don't know. Taxes or something. He said he'd call back." He took his wine and raised it to her before he took a sip.

Julia shrugged and drank her wine, but she could feel Skip's eyes on her.He knows, she thought. He could tell she'd had sex.

The very thought brought a flush to her face and she took another sip of her wine.

What had she done?!It was just hitting her now. She'd gone into that shop and let Miles cuff her and chain her in back and play with her till she'd orgasmed as he held her against him. She'd felt his cock against her hip and he'd been hard for her, ready to fuck her, maybe even tie her to the daybed and take her like that, like a Roman slave with her legs spread and her arms pinioned over her head.

And if she'd refused? Maybe he would have whipped her? Taken down her skirt and whipped her ass as she was clipped helplessly to that massive chain in his back room. What could she have done about it? Absolutely nothing.

He'd collared her too, put that collar on her neck. She remembered how it had felt, how owned she had felt, how peaceful and secure.

She felt herself flush again and she buzzed the rest of the wine. Beth cut the pizza and took a couple of pieces and Julia looked at Skip.

"Are you going to have some?"

"Oh no. I'm still holding out for the fabled lasagna."

"Okay, Skip. I got the hint. If you don't mind, I'm going to shower and turn in then. I've got to be up early tomorrow. You don't mind, do you, Skip? I can't bear looking at that lasagna-starved face anymore this evening"

He buzzed his wine. "I think I've made my point. I can find my way home."

"Great. And thanks so much for watching the girls."

"Sure, Julia. And honey, I'm glad it went well tonight."