Finding Cara


Cara1

“Cara, please just meet him for dinner?” Jenny pleaded.

Really?  My best friend had set me up on a blind date.  “Alright, I’ll go, when is it?” I relented.

“Friday at seven pm, his name is Ruben.  Or if you get really lucky you might get to call him Master Ruben,” she said giggling.

“That’s not even funny,” I scowled at her.

“I’ve told him all about you, he’s dying to meet you.”

“What did you tell him about me?”

“Just how sweet you are and that you really need to get out more!”

I narrowed my eyes at her but agreed all the same.

***

Ten to seven I arrived at the address only to find the dinner was not at a restaurant, but a huge house at the end of a long driveway.  I had to give my name at the gate before being allowed in and if Jenny hadn’t convinced me she knew Ruben well, and that he wasn’t a serial killer, I would have turned around.

Parking near the front of the building I left my car, smoothed down my black cocktail dress and headed up the wide steps to the front door.  Immediately, I was greeted by a butler who gave me a glass of champagne and asked me to follow him.  I was led to an open room with sofas, tables, a fireplace and paintings all over the walls.

“Miss, the Master will be down shortly, is there anything else I can get you?”

I shook my head and thanked him then walked around the room to study the paintings. A particularly interesting painting over the mantelpiece held my attention when a deep, rich voice cut through my thoughts.

“Good evening, Cara.”

I turned to the voice and my breath hitched at the sight of him and his eyes flared momentarily as if he had heard it or perhaps he too liked what he saw.  Ruben held my eyes as he walked towards me and I was finding it hard to both think and breathe.  He was tall, but not overly so with a lean cut to him, dark brown hair and eyes so dark they looked black.  There was almost nothing startling about him and yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him.  He was commanding in a way I had never experienced before and it made me feel something I didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Good evening, Ruben,” I replied.  “Thank you for the invitation, you have a lovely home, if a little big.”

“Thank you and I agree it is a bit over the top. Jenny warned me that you spoke your mind,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He just grinned at me.  “I’m pleased you decided to come, I wasn’t sure how persuasive Jenny would be.”

I licked my dry lips feeling a little nervous, which brought his attention to them and he offered me his hand.  “Dinner is about to be served, follow me.”

I took his hand and followed him out of the room.

Dinner went smoothly, each course delicious and Ruben kept the conversation flowing, knowledgeable on a vast array of subjects.  He then offered a tour of his home which I realised was tastefully decorated with antiques and made it feel less of a monstrosity than I originally thought.  The only room not in keeping with the rest was the kitchen that was completely modern, and when we arrived there some ninety minutes later, I realised I was enjoying Ruben’s company.

“There is one more room to see, off the kitchen, but I’m not sure you would want to,” Ruben said slowly.

“Why not?” I asked more than a little intrigued at his reluctance.

“It is my dungeon,” he stated with a wicked grin, watching me intently, and a shiver of excitement shot up my spine.

“Originally this was a castle, over time parts eroded, other parts were added and some areas, very few, were restored.  The previous owner thought the dungeon worth restoring and I couldn’t bring myself to destroy all of that hard work.  Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” I whispered, then cleared my throat and said more confidently, “Yes, it sounds interesting.”

Ruben smiled, moved to a door I hadn’t noticed, flicked a switch, pushed the door open and then gestured for me to enter the lit stairwell.

We descended concrete spiral stairs finally stepping into an actual dungeon.  He hadn’t been kidding at all.  I wandered around the room looking at everything.  There were some horrifying instruments of torture; an iron maiden, the rack, various cages and the walls lined with all types of implements to inflict pain, and I realised they were replicas.  This somehow made them less scary and I felt the atmosphere lift.  It was then I also noted other things that weren’t part of the strict theme at all.  A nicely padded Saint Andrew’s cross and the sturdy, again padded, spanking bench.  Floggers, paddles, canes and various whips hung on the walls nearby.  That tingle of excitement ran up my spine again and my breathing became a little heavier than before.  I had once been intimately acquainted with some of this equipment. Something I thought I no longer wanted but my reaction was challenging that notion.

“Some of the pieces are replicas?” I said as I turned to Ruben.

Ruben was again watching me intently and grinned at my statement.  “Well done, yes, the medieval paraphernalia are replicas.  I use it mostly for themed parties and the like.”

“But some of these things would never have been found in a medieval dungeon. This for example,” I said running my hand over the spanking bench.

“Correct.”

“You went to a lot of expense on some of these items just for a themed party.  The spanking bench and Saint Andrews cross alone would have cost a bit and not really necessary for a simple dungeon theme.  I mean…if you’re going for authenticity.”

“It all works for the sorts of parties I have, my guests certainly seem to enjoy them,” he said.

“The iron maiden doesn’t sour the mood?” I asked, when I really wanted to ask about the ‘sorts of parties’ he was referring to.

“Doesn’t seem to. The atmosphere is especially good for role play. The lazy kitchen maid dragged to the dungeon by her master for a good whipping.”

I licked my lips again, heart rate kicking up again imagining being secured to the cross a flogger hitting my ass and thighs.

“I suppose so, if you’re into that sort of thing,” I said nonchalantly.

“You’re not?” Ruben looked surprised and I blushed.

“No!” I lied, feigning shock.

“Not even a little?”

“No!” I lied, again.

Ruben circled me and when stood behind me asked quietly. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes!” The third lie.

“And what do you suppose should be the punishment for girls who lie?  Because, right now, you are lying to me,” now his voice held silky menace.

Six with the tawse, Sir!  My brain was short circuiting, this couldn’t be real.

“I’m not lying, what makes you think so?”  Oh, God I was such a liar and not even good at it.

“Girls who have no clue or are only curious would gape at the implements and furniture in this room.  Girls who know what they are for and how they are used would have a reaction like yours.”

“And what was my reaction?”

He moved forward his body crowding mine till I was leaning forward over the bench, he gently pushed my hands near the restraints.  My pussy got hot and greedy.

“Need and desire, all over your face, Cara.  So, I’ll ask you again what punishment should you get for lying to me?”

I swallowed hard, then finally whispered, “I should be spanked.”

“Only spanked?” Ruben prompted. “Lying is a grave offence.”

My breath hitched and I voiced my earlier thought. “And six with the tawse, Sir.”

“Better, and if you want me to stop?”

“I’ll say kitten.”

This was real, we just put a safe word in place!

“Perfect,” he whispered.  “If you wish this to happen I want you to remove your shoes, raise your skirt to your waist and kneel over the bench, and to be perfectly clear I intend to restrain you.  If you don’t wish this to happen, walk to the stairs.”

He removed his hands from mine and stepped away, leaving me to make my own decision.

Heart beating like a drum, I didn’t think for long before I removed my shoes, hitched up my dress and positioned myself as requested.  Most of my bottom was now on display since I wore a black lacy thong.

Ruben ran a hand up my back as he moved to restrain first one wrist and then the other.

“Relax,” he said soothingly, then restrained my ankles which naturally forced my legs wide.  “Ready?”

“Yes,” I whispered

His hand struck my ass immediately and it was a thing of beauty.  Why had I thought I no longer wanted this?

He began light, building the intensity warming me up through soft moans to sharp gasps and finally loud cries as his hand became heavier.  I was losing myself in the sensations and even though it hurt I craved more.  He spanked me for some time, I couldn’t say how long, then he stopped and smoothed his hand over my burning flesh, lightly scratching his nails before soothing again.  He moved away and returned a moment later.

“Last six,” he said and I knew he had the tawse then. This was going to hurt!

The leather came down across my bottom once, twice, three times and I yelped with each strike.  He stopped and soothed me a moment letting me catch my breath.  The last three were harder across my sit spots and I screamed after each one, my head hanging down panting fast as I realised I was completely aroused.

“Good girl,” he encouraged as he walked around me undoing the restraints, again rubbing my back as he moved.

I lay there a bit longer my cheek pressed to the bench, breathing heavy when I felt him behind me again and I realised for the first time he was also breathing heavy.

“Cara, baby, I want to fuck you and if you don’t want the same you need to get off this bench right now,”

“No,” I said simply.

“No, what Cara?”

“I don’t want to get off this bench. I want you to fuck me. Please.”

Ruben instantly pushed my thong aside and thrust two fingers into me.  My pussy was thoroughly ready for him.

“All this for me, Cara?  Beautiful.”

I heard his zipper then something else that I realised was a condom wrapper then he was at my entrance and pushing in deep, filling me in one thrust.  We both moaned loud at this before he pulled out slowly then began fucking me hard.  It felt so good even against my sore ass.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered and I moved my hand down to rub my clit as he hammered into me.

A few more thrusts and I couldn’t hold on as I started to come, crying out as my pussy pulsed, gripping his cock deep inside me.  Ruben grabbed my hips and pulled me back to him, he continued to thrust until he too found his release.

He took care of the condom and zipped up as I sat back on my heels catching my breath.  He came up behind me and gently gripped my hair pulling my head back to cover my mouth with his giving me a deep slow kiss.

“I don’t usually have sex on the first date,” I said laughing at how right this felt.

“Neither do I,” he smiled down at me.  “How about we make a deal not to have sex on the second date to even it out.  I’ll still spank you though.  Deal?”

“Deal!” I grinned and kissed him back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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