Surrender in Silk

Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.

But she had done it anyway and met someone whose interests seemed similar to hers and amazingly enough also lived in Toronto. They had spent many nights chatting on the computer, learning a lot about each other and finding out that they had similar backgrounds in law enforcement as well. Now she could laugh as she realized that all the clues were there. She should have known whom she was dealing with but when she finally agreed to have dinner with him to talk in person, it had been a complete surprise.

She glanced at her watch. 5:55pm. She had time. She could simply drive away and make her excuses later. Yes, she could claim that a work related emergency had kept her from meeting him and he'd never need to know that she had actually arrived but then chickened out.

Just as she was starting to shift the car into reverse, she saw the draperies move. Though she hadn't actually seen a body, she was certain that he had looked out the window and knew that she was there. "Damn," she said to herself, "no backing out now." Meg took a deep breath to calm her nerves, surrounded herself with an aura of nonchalance and finally felt prepared to face whatever challenges awaited her.

As she opened the car door and began to step out, a glint of metal in her bag caught her eye and she realized that she hadn't removed her gun before she'd left. The knowledge heartened her, reminding her that she was, after all, an experienced police officer. They'd agreed that there would be no bondage tonight, only subservience and that was something she could walk away from. While she acknowledged that she was quite a bit smaller than he was, she was certain that she'd be able to break virtually any kind of hold he might try.

She glanced quickly at the contents of her bag and ran down her mental checklist once again. She'd brought her own water bottle so she didn't have to depend on him for hydration. Earlier in the day she'd told her friend, Patricia, that she had a blind date and was having minor misgivings about it. So now the woman had his address and instructions to call the police if she didn't hear from Meg by 8:00. Pat had been concerned that her friend thought such precautions were necessary but Meg reassured her by saying she didn't really think she'd be in any danger but she just wanted to be certain she had a safety net if she needed one.

Meg smiled to herself as she walked to the front door of the condo. Back at her home there was a plastic bag that would be of assistance to the police if it were needed. The last time they'd met, he had been drinking a soda and had deposited the can in the trash. She'd carefully extracted it and kept to so she'd have his fingerprints. She'd also steered a conversation to the subject of badges and bad ID card photographs. They'd compared pictures and that had given her the time to jot down more information about him. Yes, if something happened to her tonight, the police would certainly have something to go on.

She barely had a chance to knock before the door opened. Renfield Turnbull smiled at her from the other side of the threshold.

"Hi, come on in," he beckoned.

"Thank you," she responded as she walked into the condo.

Meg took a quick scan of the layout. Beyond the living room there was a very short hallway of sorts that led to a small eat-in kitchen. She noticed a back door which opened to a concrete patio that was, blessedly, unfenced. For a moment she catalogued where his condo was in relationship to the rest of the building. In case a quick exit was needed, she didn't want to waste time running the long way around the structure. She hadn't seen a balcony on any of the other condos so she knew that escape from upstairs would best be made down the steps and straight out the front door.

"I'm glad to see you," he stated, sounding genuinely pleased.

"Thanks."

"Have a seat," he said, indicating a loveseat on one side of the room. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, thanks," Meg responded, reaching into her bag to get her water bottle. "I'm covered," she added, brandishing the plastic cylinder.

Ren took a seat on the sofa across the narrow living room. He watched her for a moment, trying to assess the situation before he began. "Thanks for sending me your list," he said, picking up a piece of paper from the coffee table. "Looks like we agree on a lot of things. I'm not really into the more extreme stuff." He flipped the paper around so that she could see the activities which he'd highlighted in yellow ink.

Meg listened and watched him closely as she tried to discern if he was lying but couldn't detect any hint of deception in the tone of his voice or his demeanor. "Well, I have nothing against it if that's what you're into but it's just not for me. I guess I'm just too squeamish."

"I don't think you're squeamish," he corrected. "I think you're very intelligent and just know what you want."

Meg had to laugh, "Oh sure, flatter me all you want."

"I was, however, rather surprised at the number of things you'd listed as a 4 or a 5. Have you done this kind of thing before?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Only once," she responded neutrally. "So, please bear with me while I get used to all this again. It's been a long time and I'm sure I'm pretty rusty."

"You'll be fine," he reassured her.

Ren smiled at her admission. He'd been looking forward to this evening all day and could hardly believe his good fortune. Ever since he'd returned to Canada, he'd been looking for someone to play with and the fact that it appeared Meg would be his new play partner had kept him on pins and needles since he'd gotten out of bed that morning.

So much had changed since they'd each left Chicago. Her years at CSIS had hardened her, even beyond what the RCMP had done to her. In fact, he thought, it had hardened her so much that she had finally cracked and was willing to show the sweet, soft compliant woman that hid underneath. Realistically, he had to admit that he had changed too.

Getting out from under the shadow of Super Mountie Ben Fraser had done a great deal for his self-image. Away from the rules and regulations of the RCMP, he began to apply his natural skills and learn that he had far more to offer than even he'd realized. Though his attempt to run for public office had failed, it had brought him to the attention of people who noticed his raw potential and nurtured it, molding him into the man he was today. Now he was an executive at one of the largest architectural and design firms in Ontario, with a staff of half a dozen people answering to him. Toronto Monthly magazine had named him the city's most eligible bachelor. While there was any number of women willing to share his company and his bed, there was always something missing.

A wrong turn down Church Street one day had led him to a shop that dealt exclusively in fetish wear and accessories had opened his eyes. He wasn't as naive as most people thought and he certainly wasn't shocked by what most people considered aberrant sexual behavior. This was, however, the first time that he'd come face to face with all the gear and accessories that went with the leather lifestyle and something began to glow within him. This was what he wanted. A submissive woman would complete him and fill that empty spot in his soul... but where to find one.

He checked out the clubs in Toronto but didn't particularly like what he found there. They were more geared towards swinging and swapping than dominance and submission. He checked the personal ads and even met with a few prospective women but none of them possessed the fire he looked for. He didn't want a doormat with low self esteem. He wanted someone confident enough in herself and her sexuality to know that her submission was a gift to be given only to the Dom who could appreciate it. So he turned to the internet, started checking out the chat rooms and that's where he found her.

When he first met her, he'd noticed that she exuded a raw sexuality. The night they shared a bed with Buck Frobisher in that ridiculously small RCMP cabin before going out to capture Muldoon had attracted him even more although he knew that as his superior officer he shouldn't even be having such thoughts. And the kiss at the end of their evening together last week was still seared in his memory. Though it had been brief, it spoke volumes about her sensuality and femininity.

"So, you've got my list," Meg began. "Are there any house rules I should know about?"

Ren smiled at her. "As a matter of fact, there are only a few." He picked up another piece of paper from the coffee table and handed it to her.

She glanced at the paper and realized that he was telling the truth.

"1. 'You will be punctual for all sessions'," she read aloud. "That shouldn't be a problem. I tend to be pathologically punctual."

"Fine, go on," he stated.

"2. 'You will address your Master as Sir at all times'. I can live with that."

She was rewarded with a small nod of the head from Turnbull.

"3. 'You will never ask for specific things, but suggest to your Master that he night want to try something if you would like a specific thing in a session'." Her brow furrowed as she thought about that for a moment. "I take it you're not into hearing your sub beg?" she questioned."

"We'll discuss that more later."

"Okay," she agreed and continued to read. "4. 'You will do what is asked without question if it is in the agreed upon list.' Well, that only seems fair."

"For now, that goes for soft limits as well as hard until we get used to each other," he reassured her.

She nodded without looking up from the list. "5. You will not wear a bra or panties when in your Master's presence."

Meg's head snapped up at that point. She had amassed her lingerie collection with great thought to the effect that it would have on any man who saw it. She'd even purchased a few pieces that she would never have considered before.

"You have a problem with that last rule, sub?" Ren asked, starting to get into his role.

"Yes, Sir, I do. Mother always told me to wear clean underpants in case I was in an accident," she responded, trying to make light of the situation. "Besides, I thought it might please you to watch me disrobe."

"That it might, sub. That it might. Well, I'll think about that one and we'll get back to it later."

"Yes, Sir."

"Then let's go upstairs and get started," he commanded.

"Upstairs?"

"That's where the play room is," he said.

She motioned for him to lead the way and then followed him up the steps. As she climbed the plushly carpeted stairs, she took one last glance over her shoulder at the front door and realized that if she wanted to bolt, this was likely to be her final opportunity. Screwing up her courage, she convinced herself that this couldn't be worse than anything else that she'd ever experienced.

Once at the landing he led her into a westward facing room. There were sheer curtains draped over the window that allowed plenty of light to enter the room. It appeared to be just another bedroom, furnished as a guestroom might be with a queen size bed, nightstands and a small dresser. Meg quirked an eyebrow at him when she noticed the framed Nancy Noel prints on the wall. Pictures of kittens seemed so out of place with what she imagined they would be doing.

"Is there a problem, sub?" Ren asked sternly.

"No, Sir. It just wasn't what I expected."

"And what were you expecting?"

"I'm not sure, maybe something a little darker and more severe."

"More dungeon-like?" he asked, with a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Yes, something like that," she admitted, still taking in all the pleasant amenities.

"Well, I've always been fond of natural lighting and this room seems to take the best advantage of that. Plus with it being on the second floor, it makes it virtually impossible for anyone to look in the window and see what I'm doing."

"Good point. So, what now, Sir?"

"Undress, of course."

Meg dropped her bag at the foot of the bed prepared to peel off her clothing. She started by kicking off her sandals and adding them to the contents of the bag. Taking a deep breath she grabbed the hem of her lipstick red T-shirt and began to yank it off over her head.

"Whoa, sub. Did no one ever instruct you on the proper way to undress?"

"Proper way, Sir?" she asked, adopting a tone of innocence.

"You act like you're in a locker room, suiting up for the big game. Now slow down and take your time. Or are you in that much of a rush to get this over with?"

She averted her eyes, hoping he'd just think it was a sign of her submission. She didn't want him to see her face for fear that he would realize she wanted just that-to get through this scene and see if she survived it in one piece.

"No," she replied softly.

"No, what, sub?" he prompted, his voice darkening menacingly.

"No, Sir."

"That's better. Now, undress slowly, sensuously. Show off your body like the little slut you are."

Inwardly she chuckled. 'You want a show?' she thought. 'Okay, babe, hang on to your hat.'

Slowly she began to inch the hem of the shirt up expose her belly and torso and then let it fall again. She lifted it higher the second time, giving him a brief glimpse of the pattern of her bra. On the third attempt, the shirt came all the way up to her shoulders and let him fully see the charms that had been hidden under it. She saw his eyes begin to lose their focus and it strengthened her courage. Finally she completely removed the shirt and took note of his expression as he stared at her.

Even after shedding a few pounds, her breasts had remained full and round, and the purple bra she wore strained to contain them. She teased and tantalized him as she slowly unzipped her short denim skirt. Her hips wiggled in sensuous delight, and she knew the effect her performance was likely having on him. As she gyrated hypnotically, she let the fabric fall away from her lower belly and expose her navel while giving him a peek at the matching panties she wore.

It took a full five minutes for her to finally take the skirt completely off and drop it in her bag. Now she stood clad only in a purple lace bra and matching bikini panties and her master's eyes were completely glazed over. It was difficult for him to not lose his focus as she sensuously stripped for him. It was obvious that she'd done this kind of thing before. She moved too fluidly to be a novice. He nodded at her to continue undressing; not that she apparently needed any encouragement.

Another five minutes passed before she was completely naked. She drew out her performance, trying to give herself time to come to grips with what she was about to do and to let the butterflies in her stomach settle. When the last piece of clothing was tucked safely away in her bag, she was still apprehensive but not quite so fearful. Her body was turned towards him but she kept her eyes averted.

He licked his lips and chuckled. "My, my, you are such a slut. Are you nervous?"

"A little, Sir."

"Good, I'd be concerned if you weren't. Do you know what happens next?"

"No, Sir."

"Well, you've been a big tease tonight. You have to be punished for that."

"Yes, Sir," she agreed meekly.

"Lie down across the bed. You're going to be spanked. If you take this like a good girl, things will go a lot better for you. If not, you'll have to be restrained. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Meg responded as she stretched out on the bed. She folded her arms in front of her and rested her head on them. For a long time, nothing happened. Waiting expectantly, she didn't realize that she was holding her breath and only became aware of it when the first blow fell to her rounded bottom. Her entire body jerked at the impact but she didn't cry out, only expelled the air she'd been holding in her lungs. The truth was that while it was mildly painful, the shock factor was much greater.

This was a man who knew what he was doing, never letting the same amount of time pass between any two strikes. He watched her react as each swat fell on her and smiled. She seemed even more responsive than he'd hoped for. It was a joy for him to watch her shut her eyes tightly and clench her jaw, waiting for the next time his hand would come down on her. He almost stopped, wondering if she'd reached a limit, if she'd let herself use her safeword. But since she didn't, he continued.

At last her buttocks were cherry red, inflamed by the power he'd unleashed on them. Feeling somewhat tender, and wanting to reward her for her stoic acceptance of his punishment, he lightly rubbed his hand across her ass, soothing the pain away with a gentle touch and soft words.

"Excellent. You took that very well and never once put your hand back to try to stop me."

"Thank you, Sir," Meg responded, feeling somewhat out of breath.

"I think you should be rewarded for that. Roll over."

Meg did as she was commanded, wondering what was in store for her now. Closing her eyes so he wouldn't see her uncertainty, she let her head fall backward over the side of the mattress and waited expectantly. Still apprehensive over what was going to happen, she wanted to distance her rational self from her body and letting her head go virtually unsupported seemed to be the best way to do it.

She felt the mattress dip on her right side and knew that Ren had joined her. Something tugged at her right nipple and she gasped at the exquisite sensation. He rolled the nub of flesh between his thumb and forefinger then pulled it away from her body. She could feel herself respond to his touch as if a bolt of energy had coursed between the nipple and her crotch. His continued ministrations to her breasts just made her even hotter. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to roll him over and attack his body but she knew that wouldn't be allowed. She was, after all, the sub and she was there simply for the pleasure of her master.

"Do you like that, sub?" she heard him ask.

"Mmmmmm,"

"Margaret," he said, sternly, "When I ask you a question, I expect you to respond with a complete sentence. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she said crisply.

"Yes, Sir, what?"

"Yes, I understand, Sir. And I like what you're doing very much," she said, feeling a little like she was back at Regina.

He continued to tug on her nipples, pulling them away from her breasts and rolling them firmly between his fingers. She winced briefly from the pain but didn't say anything. Pushing her limits, he pinched them even harder until she gasped out her first safeword.

"Yellow!" she nearly cried, wanting him not to stop all together but simply reduce the intensity.

He complied instantly by releasing the sensitive nubs of flesh and changing his focus back to the fullness of her breasts. He kneaded them and lightly trailed his fingertips across the smooth, soft mounds. Meg's sigh of relief pleased him as she was assured that he would respect her limits.

"You see, you can trust me. I'll never do anything to intentionally hurt you." He paused for a second while a wicked grin lit up his face. "Or at least, not in a way that you won't enjoy."

She felt his hands leave her breasts, stroke down her abdomen and trail all the way down to her feet. The caress was gentle and sensuous but the hands were rougher and forceful as they slid back up her legs and stop just above her knees. Her face turned red as she felt her thighs being pried apart and sensed his eyes staring at the treasure that was now revealed.