Midlife Correction Ch. 04

Miles broke away. "Go tell them you have to go out again," he said. "Go. I'll have you back in three hours."

Julia quickly tried to pull herself together and do up her pants. "What are you saying? What am I going to tell them? That another friend came by?"

"I don't give a damn what you tell them, just tell them and get back out here. I'm not leaving without you. And bring your collar."

She saw he was serious and she quickly made herself presentable and got out of the car. She took a few deep breaths of the icy air, then walked up to the door, calming herself, telling herself to act normally. She let herself in.

Skip was sitting by the window. He looked up at her with quizzically. Apparently he'd seen her get in and out of Miles' car. It was too dark for him to have possibly seen what went on inside, she was sure of it, but what he saw was enough. There was no sense in lying.

"It's him," she whispered. "The other guy."

"Oh dear," Skip mocked. "It's a regular romantic farce, isn't it? A three-act play. One leaves and another shows up in his place. What does he want?"

"He and I have to talk," she said "I have to go with him for a while. Can you—?"

"Of course, Julia. Go ahead. My flick wasn't over yet anyhow. Besides, I wouldn't miss hearing about this for the world."

"Thanks, Skip. You're such an angel."

She told the girls only that she had to go out again and they asked no questions. Could they possibly know? Mal's bedroom looked out onto the street. Could she have seen Julia getting in and out of Miles' car? She didn't think so.

She kissed them both, then stopped inside her bedroom. She knew it was madness, but she grabbed the collar from under the mattress and stuffed it into her purse, then ran down the stairs. Why was she doing this? She already knew Miles frightened her. She couldn't control him, couldn't control herself when she was with him. But that was the point, wasn't it? Finding someone who made you seem new to yourself, who showed you you could still surprise yourself?

Maybe she didn't like who she was when she was with him, but she needed it.

She kissed Skip on the cheek, swept out the door and down to Miles' car. He reached over and threw the door open for her and she stepped inside into the warm, blue and yellow lit darkness. Miles put the car in gear and off they went.

Chapter Nine

"Where are you taking me?" she asked.

They'd been driving along together for some time now, and Miles had been totally silent. Julia's body was still quivering from the way he'd touched her, and being this close to him in the car without being able to reciprocate or complete her pleasure was maddening.

"there's no time to take you to my place," he said, his eyes never leaving the road. "We'll have to go to a hotel."

Julia hunched her shoulders together, warding off a shiver. The matter-of-factness in his voice chilled her and made her feel cheap. At the same time it ignited something inside her. She was being abducted, just like in all those fantasies, taken by a man who couldn't do without her. She'd never expected it would feel so scary.

"Is that what this is all about? Just sex?"

"That's what you said, remember? Let's keep this sexual? So yes, I suppose you could say it is." He pulled onto the expressway and the car picked up speed.

"On the other hand, I have to talk to you. You owe me one more night, Julia. You can't just end it like this."

"One more night's not going to change anything, whether it's bad or good," she said. "I think you should take me home."

Miles checked his side view mirror as he merged onto the expressway. He showed no sign of slowing down or turning around. The car hummed along like expressway speed was the least it could do, and the night became an inky cape around them.

"Let me tell you something, Julia," he said, finally turning to her as he spoke. "I spent a long time looking for someone like you, and I recognized you as soon as you walked into the shop. I knew you. I'd been waiting for you, and ever since then it was like I knew exactly what you'd do, what your reactions would be. And I've been right. Does that tell you something?"

"That I'm predictable?"

"Not exactly," he said dryly. "It means that I know what I'm doing and I'm not wrong about this, Julia. I'm not wrong about you. You're deeply into this and you can't just turn your back on it. Now that you know what's out here, you'll never be satisfied with your old ways."

"My old ways? You mean the way I used to make love? What, have I crossed some kind of line or something? Your arrogance is really shocking."

"Let's not talk about me. Let's keep the focus on you. Do you know what it means when someone's sexually gifted?"

Julia looked at him, but when he returned her glance, she had to look away.

"It means they have an unusual sensitivity for some aspect of physical love that you don't find in most people. They respond to it more fully and completely, lose themselves in it more fully, give themselves more openly and with less reservation. It's like a talent, and you have it, Julia. I knew you had it from the time you first walked into my shop and went pale when you saw the whip."

"I never went pale," she objected.

For the first time, he smiled. "You went pale. When I showed you the crop, your hands were trembling, your eyes were like saucers. I've never seen a girl get turned on so fast."

Julie hunched in her corner of the seat. "So I'm a slut. What does that prove?"

"No. Not that you're a slut. You're talented, gifted. At last here was a woman who responded to these things with the same level of intensity I did. That's why I pursued you and kept after you, and that's why you owe me one more night. You can't throw this away."

Julia turned in her seat. "In all of this, it looks like you've been doing the taking and I've been doing the giving. How about you do the giving for a change?"

"What do you mean?"

"Answer some questions for me."

Miles put on his turn signal and changed lanes. He sped up. "Fair enough. Ask away."

"Alright," Julia said. "For starters, do you have someone else you're seeing?"

"No. I don't."

"But you did have. I mean, you're an expert at this. You know what you're doing. You must have had other subs."

"Well, yes."

"And you really expect me to believe that you picked me, that you were waiting for me to come into your shop?"

"Someone like you. It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. It's true."

"I think you're a liar, Miles Bernard."

He changed lanes again and exited the expressway. They were out near the airport.

"It doesn't matter what you think of me. I do it for you, Julia. We work together. That's what's important."

"And you think you can just kidnap me like this and take me to some hotel and have your way with me?"

Miles was squinting out the window at the signs for the hotels. He picked a decent one and pulled into the lot, drove to the front office and turned off the car.

"Let's just find out, shall we?"

Julia had no choice but to wait in the car till he came out. He helped her out of the car, then got a large, heavy bag out of the trunk, a bag that clinked ominously as he lifted it.

"Come on Mrs. Jones. Our room is 706."

She let him guide her to the hotel entrance, then up the elevator to the seventh floor. She let him drag her along the carpeted hallway to room 706 and open the door. She let him pull her gently into the room.

A typical hotel room, large but anonymous, looking out on an expanse of featureless suburb. The bed was square and primly made, the lamps perfectly centered in the end tables. The room might have been designed on a computer for all the life it had.

Miles dropped the bag on the luggage stand and it feel with a clank. He took off his coat.

"Get undressed," he said.

Julia looked around her as if for the first time, as if she only now realized she had let Miles take her to a hotel room, obviously for one purpose and one purpose only.

"No," she said. "No, I don't think so."

He was pulling things out of his bag—skeins of rope, a flogger, sex toys.

"Well don't stand there," he said. "At least take your coat off."

"Miles, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here. I don't know what I was thinking, but I can't go through with this anymore. I can't be this kind of woman. I can't be what you want."

He was attaching something to the top of the closet door, a metal bracket of the kind that clothes were hung from. He turned to her.

"Did you bring your collar?"

She thought of lying but she couldn't. He'd know if she lied, she was sure of it, and besides, she didn't want to.

"Yes. It's in my purse."

"Bring it to me."

Julia took off her coat and dropped it on the chair. She found the collar in her bag and brought it over to Miles, thinking she'd let it go this far and no further.

"Take off your necklace," he said, and Julia unfastened the string of faux pearls she wore.

This far and no further.

He slid the collar around her neck and buckled it in place, then passed two small padlocks though the hasps. Before Julia could object, he spun her around and took her in a passionate, sweeping kiss, hot and possessive, as if the fire that had been smoldering inside him all this time suddenly burst into flame.

It happened so fast that she was startled, shocked to find herself being kissed like this, being held and pressed against his body as he slanted his mouth across hers and forced her to accept his tongue. Heat and resentment flooded her body and she tried to push him away but it was like he was made of iron, and quickly the resentment faded, to be replaced by this luciferous glow, the submissive joy of being held and kissed like this, with such savage insistence.

Well, she'd let him have his kiss, she thought. He could have his kiss but then that was all. That was as far as she was going. When his hand drifted down between her legs again, her resentment built anew.

No! I'm not his slut!

But there was something in the way he touched her—crude and demanding, grabbing her between the legs and squeezing as if he needed it, needed her—that just made rational thought impossible. She responded to him a she always did, her spirit and resolve withering under the heat of his embrace, and she put her arms around him and hung on as he swept her up in his passion.

She needed it. Her need was something apart from her, apart from her feelings of resolve and her determination not to be used. It was something bone deep and uncontrollable, and Miles reached it with his kiss and seemed to flip a switch inside both of them, and suddenly he was feverish for her, his teeth biting at her lips, hands claiming her.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh God!"

His lust was like some force of nature, like a hurricane or a tidal wave. There was no standing before it. What could she do but surrender when he needed her so desperately? His hands were on her ass, in her hair, pulling her head back as he licked her throat down to the collar and kissed her there, kissed the symbol of her willing submission.

"Now take off your clothes," he said, breaking the kiss and stepping away from him.

She blanched. In his arms was one thing. Released from his passionate grip, she felt vulnerable and exposed. "Miles, I can't. Not just like this."

He turned to her with a crop in his hand. "It's about time you started listening to me, Julia, and obeying my orders. I don't so this just to hear myself talk. Everything I tell you has a reason and a purpose, and your job is to listen to me."

Her natural inclination to resist authority was aroused and she was about to deny him, when he spoke again.

"We're outside your comfort zone here. I know this is hard for you, but for this to work you have to do as I say. That's part of it, the trust, the obedience, the letting go. Now either you take your clothes off or I take you home."

Julia gazed at him for a moment, gauging just how serious he was. He was very serious. She didn't want to be taken home now, now that he'd struck a fire within her, now that she'd felt his desire.

She slipped off her jacket and laid it on the chair. Took off her shoes and opened her pants and stripped them down, then folded them casually and put them on top of the jacket. All the while, Miles was arranging some sort of hoist device on the bracket. He stopped and watched her.

"Do you have to look?" she asked.

"Yes. I do."

Her blouse was next. Unbuttoning it, she also reached up and removed the pins from her hair, allowing her hair to fall and shaking her head to let the dark curls cascade around her neck. She took off her blouse and stood in panties and bra—her seductive panties and bra, the panties lace mesh and see-through, the bra just supporting the bottoms of her breasts and allowing her nipples to peak over the cups—intended originally to snare Ross, but now appreciated by Miles instead.

"Here, before you go on, let me get your cuffs on you."

He buckled his own leather cuffs to her arms and ankles, and as soon as she felt the tension around her wrists, she had to fight the urge to not fall to her knees in front of him. There was something so secure, so safe about the cuffs—something that made her want to give in and give up, give it all to him. It was this part of her she feared and loved: the urge to be his.

"Now, the rest of it," he said.

Julia skinned out of her panties and put them on the pile, then reached behind her and unhooked the bra and let it slide down her arms. She made herself stand up straight and proud. But Miles was not looking at her breasts. He was taking her all in, from her feet to the top of her head, and now that she was naked, he came over and embraced her again and took her in another furious kiss.

The rough feel of his clothes against her bare skin was terribly erotic. She felt small and vulnerable, jewel-like and precious as he kissed her and ran his hands over her body. She felt owned, possessed, and she hid in his embrace, putting her arms around him.

"You know the rules," he said. "No touching."

She let go of him and nervously brought her hands up against her breasts as Miles held her, and when his fingers went between her legs again, she felt lost. His touch was irresistible, overwhelming, and she had no desire to resist in any case. The cuffs and collar and her nakedness were too much. She belonged to him now. There was no sense in pretending otherwise.

"I'll show you how to stand," he said, releasing her. "Upright, hands at your sides, feet at shoulder width, eyes down. Understand?"

"Yes," she said. Her head was swimming. She was dizzy with need. Her own docility surprised her, but she wanted to obey him and do just what he said. Pleasing him was suddenly exciting, of supreme importance.

"I don't make you keep to poses all the time, but you should know these. Now kneel."

Julia got down on her knees.

"This is your standard position," he said. "Knees apart farther. Your legs should make a sixty degree angle. Hands on thighs, arms relaxed, back straight, eyes down."

"Yes."

"If I say, 'present', you lock your hands behind your neck and present your tits to me."

"Alright."

"Now do it. Present."

Julia assumed the kneeling position he'd just given her, her legs embarrassingly apart as she sat on her heels, her back straight, fingers locked behind her collar. As she did, she felt a thrill, the thrill of submission, of giving herself to Miles.

It was bizarre. She wasn't the Julia she knew—stubborn, headstrong—though her pride was still in her. But now it was the pride of submission, of surrender, or gioving in entirely. It felt right, inarguably right.

Miles looked at her kneeling there, and walked slowly around her. She was aware of his footsteps as he moved behind her, and she glowed under the heat of his gaze.

"You know why you're doing this?" he asked.

"No. I don't." Her answer was only partly true. She was aware of the surging sexual excitement she felt, like nothing she'd ever known.

"Because you're a partner to my desires," he said. "What I want, you want, and so we're perfect together. You're not a slave, not a servant. You're the compliment to me You're my desire, Julia, perfect for this."

He ran the whip across her shoulders and down her spine, and Julia felt herself flush with goose bumps. This was insane, kneeling here like this for him, but it was what she wanted. She could feel his arousal and it felt like some wonderful nourishment, something that made her glow.

"Now come here." He helped her stand and led her over to the bracket that hung from the door. He clipped her wrists together with a metal clip, then hoisted them up to the height of her head using the pulley system he'd rigged earlier. He tied the rope off to the doorknob.

She hadn't been expecting this, nor had she been prepared for the ease with which the little block and tackle lifted her arms up. She whimpered slightly as he raised her arms, realizing she didn't have the strength to fight him. Miles reached into his bag and unfolded what looked like a kind of closet rod with chains on the end. He bent and attached this to her ankles, forcing them apart by a couple of feet.

With her ankles bound, Julia staggered and started to fall, only keeping herself upright by clinging to the block and tackle over her head. Miles came over and helped her get her feet beneath her again. His eyes were glowing.

"There's something about a woman in bondage," he said. "Something that never ceases to move and arouse me, Julia. If I were to just make love to you, we'd be almost done by now. Instead we're just starting, aren't we? The way we feel now is nothing compared to the way we'll feel in a few moments."

"Miles—!"

He picked up the crop. "What?" he asked her. "What is it? What do you want to say, Julia? Go ahead and say it. Do you object? Do you want me to stop? Should I stop and let you go? Do you want to never see me again starting right now?"

She stood there, hanging onto the ropes, her chest rising and falling, her eyes closed. She wasn't even sure why she'd said his name.

"Tell me, Julia. tell me."

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing. I think I might need a gag."

Miles smiled and dug through his bag. He pulled out a gag with a small artificial penis attached to a leather patch. "Open!"

Julia whimpered when she saw it, but she opened her mouth and let him stuff the plastic cock in. Miles buckled the strap around the back of her head and adjusted a smaller band that went over her scalp, harnessing her to the gag..

It was lewd, obscene. With that little cock in her mouth she had no choice but to suck on it like a baby's pacifier, and the salaciousness of what she was doing struck her with unexpected force. It wasn't just sucking that little dildo that made her feel like such a slut. It was the fact that it was oddly comforting—it felt good to have her mouth stuffed with artificial dick.

And now she was gagged and bound, and she hadn't meant for it to get to this point at all, but Miles was already standing behind her, holding her, pressing his body against her, one hand reaching down between her legs to toy with her, the other running roughly over her breasts, his palm dragging over her sensitive nipples. She could feel his excitement and feel the strength in his body, feel the tight reins of control he used to keep himself in check so as to not attack her outright. His body seemed to hum with passion and potential violence, yet he kept himself under control.

She felt the crop tracing down her back, then across her ass. It went lower, following the back of one leg and coming up the other. Miles was teasing her, letting her feel the whip's caress, letting it lull her into a feeling of peace.