Colorado Christmas (Service & Submission Book 4) Read online

  Preston whistled low. “Jesus, I need to really spend some time with you, Maxim. Avery, maybe we’ll spend some time at their penthouse in New York City for Valentine’s Day. I think I need a mentor.”

  Scooping scrambled eggs out of a covered silver tray, Avery laughed. “Well, that’s just ridiculous, Preston. I’m sure Maxim and Caroline have way too many responsi—”

  Cutting his link sausage without looking up, Maxim said, “Avery, your husband was speaking to me, yes?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  Avery nodded, putting her fork down, giving him her full attention.

  “Then I answer questions, yes?”

  She nodded again.

  Maxim stared at her for a brief moment, then slowly twisted in his chair to address Preston. “You and your wife are more than welcome at our house. Caroline may be unable to take time off from work, but I am home during the day and will bring you sightseeing and give you tasks and directions for Avery.”

  Avery’s eyes went wide, and she appeared a little frightened at the prospect. Caroline was sitting on a sore behind herself this morning; she could hardly blame Avery for the reaction. Maxim was a force to be reckoned with and his demeanor could be rather… austere.

  “We’ll exchange phone numbers, and I’ll be in touch with you to plan when we can come to visit.” Preston looked at Avery. “Isn’t it great? You’ll get to spend another couple weeks with Caroline again. “

  “Yeah.” Her voice was wan, flat. “Just… great.”

  Both men laughed at her less than enthusiastic response. Everyone filled their plates with biscuits, Danishes, and meat, in preparation for their day on the slopes. Caroline found it difficult to sit still on the hard wood chairs after her spanking with the metal pipe brush that morning. Maxim had decided she’d listen to instructions on the slopes better with an aching ass. Chances were good he was right, but the little brush had hurt. It resembled a pipe cleaner, but in reality, it was a very thin bottle brush with a metal wire in the middle.

  It looked innocuous enough that she hadn’t given it the proper respect it was due.

  Just this morning Maxim had told Caroline, “I want you on your hands and knees on the bed before you get dressed.”

  She had whined, but knew enough to do as she was told without hesitation. Once on all fours near the edge of the bed, she’d watched him pull out the wimpy looking mini bottle brush.

  “You will be paddled with this brush.” He walked toward her with it, swishing it through the air. That should’ve been her first clue — it had made the same sound a cane did which it sliced the air. Instead, she had stupidly giggled at how silly it appeared.

  “You think this is funny, Caro? You think this will feel like a pipe cleaner on your backside, eh?” He squeezed the white bristles between his fingers as he made his way to the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry, but yeah. It looks like nothing, you have to admit.” She’d been so sure of herself.

  He grinned that lopsided grin she loved, with the dimple showing. “Let’s try and see, yes?”

  Nothing had prepared her for the line of fire that lashed across her bottom then, she’d risen up on her knees, grasping her searing flesh in both her hands. She’d screeched, dancing in place, trying to wiggle out the pain. “Jesus H Christ, Maxim. That fucker hurts!”

  Calmly, Maxim pointed the brush at her. “Master! And that just gave you two licks with my belt. Back into position.”

  “I don’t even remember why I’m getting this anymore.” She knelt, fisting the quilt in each hand, bracing herself for the rod.

  “This is what they say in football — defensive. A sore ass will make you listen to me and rules on the hills. This pipe cleaning brush hurts more than you thought, eh?”

  Before she could respond, he’d whipped that brush against her, lash after lash leaving her writhing on her knees, waggling her backside, hoping to avoid it but utterly failing — and making things even worse. She quickly found that the brush hurt even worse on her hips or thighs, so she’d decided to kneel as stoically as she could. Finally, he had stopped. She dropped her forehead onto the bed, panting, trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t cried, but tears slipped from her eyes, regardless.

  Maxim patted her hip, laying her clothes on the bed. “I’m going downstairs to start some coffee and meet with Murray. You get dressed.” He’d looked at his watch. “You have twenty minutes to dress and do your hair. I’d get moving if I were you. You do not want to be late. Pouting has consequences, like more licks of the brush. Harder licks. Understand, Caro?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  And there she was, arriving late nonetheless — which meant she’d be receiving more of that damned brush later that night. Maxim never forgot, and he never relented. If he said he’d give her more licks of the brush, that’s what she’d receive. And now poor Avery would be coming with Preston so he could be “trained” under Maxim. But she smiled inwardly, thinking of the fun she and Avery would have in the city for a couple weeks together. It would be like college —but with men who loved them, and actually had money.

  Something neither of them had in college.

  Chapter 9

  Inga watched Maxim and Caroline make it down the hill for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past two hours. The longest two hours of her life. And she remembered thinking that if Maxim wanted her on the fucking bunny hill all day, she’d stay there rather than deal with an angry Maxim. But at that point, she’d rather deal with the irate Russian than stand there one more minute. By the look on Avery’s face — who had taken to sitting in the snow — she’d had enough of it too.

  “Avery, Garrett and I are going up to the lodge to warm up a bit and grab a beer. Do you and Preston want to come with us?”

  Avery leapt up. “Hell yes! I’m so sick of this, I can’t see straight.”

  Preston shushed her. “Not so loud. You’ll hurt their feelings, Avery Rose. She’s doing well, but Maxim needs to feel that. Now, you be nice.”

  She frowned at him. “I know that. She’s my friend. I know how to handle her.”

  “Just a reminder is all, kitten.” He wrapped his arm around her. “C’mon, let’s go up to the lodge.”

  As they walked away, Garrett yelled over his shoulder. “Hey, Maxim and Caroline, we’re going up to the lodge. Do you two want to come with us and warm up?”

  After talking to Caroline, Maxim yelled back, “Wait up, we’re coming too.” Slipping their skis off, they followed everyone up to the lodge.

  Sitting at a large wooden table with half split log benches next to a roaring fire, they ordered a couple pitchers of beer and a carafe of mulled wine with some dip and bread. Slowly, layer by layer, they all started to take off jackets, and then sweaters, warming up from both the fire and the alcohol.

  Inga noticed that the men were busy talking and laughing, Preston and Maxim having gone to the bar to get more pitchers. Eventually, Garrett exited to the men’s room, and shortly thereafter, the other two men followed him.

  “Caroline,” Inga interrupted the talking women. “I’ve noticed that you’re progressing just fine. How about we take this opportunity to skip out and go to the intermediate slopes? You can do it. I’ve trained dozens and dozens of skiers. I know when people are ready. And you, my girl, are ready for that mountain.”

  Caroline looked around, apparently searching for Maxim. “I-I don’t know. I think I should wait for Maxim. I’m sorry, but he’ll be upset.”

  Inga rolled her eyes. “It seems he’s a fussy man. I’m an instructor. I know how to do this too. I will ski in front of you and Avery can be next to you — holding your hand if that will make you feel better — and nothing will happen. You feel like you can do this too. I know you do. He’s just… what’s the word? Cuddling you?”

  Avery grinned. “Coddling. Yes, he is definitely coddling you. You’re an independent woman. You don’t need him to tell you when you are ready to move to a more difficult slope. Let’s go. It’ll b
e fun.”

  “Besides,” Inga continued. “Once he sees that you did fine going down the slope, he will realize how silly he has been — and we will ski the way we want for the rest of the day. Having a little wine has made you loose and limber, yes?”

  “Yes. I do think you’re right. I don’t feel so tense. I feel relaxed. And I run a company, for Christ’s sake. I don’t need him telling me I can’t go down an intermediate trail. It’s not like I’m going on Devil’s Run.”

  “Exactly!” Inga surveyed the room, grabbing her jacket. “Now, let’s get our asses out of here so we can be down the slope before they figure it out.”

  The women quickly donned their coats, hats, and gloves, grabbing their skis and exiting the lodge, taking the lift to the summit of the most difficult intermediate trail. Once at the top, Inga spoke to the instructor on the slope, telling him that Caroline had been practicing and had done very well. She explained that she had been a ski instructor in Sweden and knew she was ready — with the right support, of course. She’d ski in front of her, Avery beside her, and she asked if the instructor would be nearby along the slope in case she ran into trouble.

  Inga made sure none of those conversations occurred within earshot of Caroline, not wanting her to become more nervous than she already was. Once everyone was in place, she patted Caroline on the shoulder. “Here I go. I’ll wave when it’s time for you both to start. Let’s kick ass and have some fun on this fucking slope!” The instructor followed a short distance behind her, watching over his shoulder for the women.

  Inga waved and they all started down the hill. And as she suspected, Caroline did amazingly well. She glided down the hill gracefully, swishing on the curves, maneuvering the twists and turns like she’d been skiing for weeks. At the base of the hill, they all cheered, screaming and hugging each other, high-fiving her on her victory.

  However, the victory was short lived when three angry men came stalking their way, a very large, growly alpha Russian leading the pack.

  The women, without any planning on their part, moved on instinct, linking their arms and turning, trying their best to get back on the slope to ski away from the impending danger striding toward them.

  The women started squealing in their haste to flee.

  “Oh, no!” Caroline screeched, clawing at the air in front of her, abandoning Avery’s hand, grasping for something — or someone — to rescue her. But it was too late.

  Then Maxim caught up with them, swatting Inga’s thickly padded bottom through her ski pants, that single heavy blow from his dinner plate of a hand already heating her derriere.

  “You were told to stay on kiddie slope, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Master.”

  “The woman has no trouble, so she bought a piglet.”

  “Wha—at?” Caroline turned, looking at the women, as if they’d be able to decipher what the Russian was talking about. Both Avery and Inga shrugged.

  He sighed loudly. “It means you went looking for trouble. Things were going just fine. You were given spanking and rules just this morning.” He shook his head in disgust, looking at Inga and Avery. “You were all warned. You will all pay with consequences tonight.”

  By that point, Preston and Garrett had grabbed the arms of their women and all of them were frog marching their women back to the van.

  Once their skis had been put into the back, and everyone was in their seats, and belted in, Maxim addressed the driver. “Back to the chalet.” He fixed the frightened women with a baleful look. “And you three, not one word is spoken, yes?”

  They nodded silently. Caroline’s eyes had filled with tears, and Inga suspected that if they knew what awaited them, they’d probably all be crying.

  “You take the lead on this, Maxim. If Preston agrees, I have no problem with you disciplining all the women.”

  Garrett looked over at Preston, who nodded. “Absolutely. They were warned, and you in particular made them all agree at dinner last night that they understood that Caroline and the rest of them were to stay on the bunny hill. You’re more than qualified to mete out the punishment.”

  “Wait!” Avery said, defiance still in her voice. “Are you saying you’ll just sit back and watch him beat my ass?”

  Inga gasped. Of all the occasions for Avery to be sassy, this surely was not the time.

  Maxim’s jaw clenched. “First, girl, I would not beat anyone’s ass. I paddle and spank. Maybe I whip. But beating and spanking are different things. If you do not know this, you need to be taught. I can teach, if you like.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That is a word that I do not allow. Nothing I do is beating the woman I love.”

  He let his message sink in before continuing. “Second, your husband just gave me permission. You did give agreement last night to follow rules, yes?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Nyet. Answer only question.” He put a hand up, halting her. “And I did say you would be spanked if rules were broken. I am sure your Master told you same thing today too.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Nyet. Then you will be spanked as you agreed, and your husband says I get to spank you. So, you sit and you don’t speak. Think on that.”

  Inga swallowed. She had vowed just last night that she’d sit forever on that fucking hill, and yet, she’d been the ringleader of the whole thing.

  God, will that get me spanked more or harder? Probably both.

  Chapter 10

  Maxim felt unsure, which he hated. He rarely questioned himself, especially when it came to women and their punishment or discipline. Those were the areas he felt most confident in — that, and how to wield an implement. But this was a path that he’d never traveled. He’d been to clubs and played with husbands’ wives and girlfriends many times. But to punish friends with husbands looking on had him a little uncomfortable. They, however, seemed more than willing.

  Once he started though, he usually could let stressors and worry fall away, his only focus being safety and watching the sub closely to gauge her reactions. He enjoyed testing a woman’s limits but never took her too far.

  The women were very quiet, and every now and again he would hear the low rumbling of a husband speaking into his wife’s ear. Overall though— with the exception of the occasional sniffle from Caroline — the van ride was peaceful. Caroline definitely knew what was in store for her, and had the sense to show remorse. Avery sat with her arms crossed over her chest, looking more like a rebellious teenager who’d been caught than one experiencing any sort of regret. Inga resembled a scared doe on the edge of the road, unsure if she wanted to go forward, even though going back was no longer an option.

  The van stopped at the front door, and everyone filed out. Maxim leaned inside the vehicle to talk to the driver. “Thanks, Ken. Sorry if I was curt with you when we got in the van.”

  “You were fine, Maxim. No problem. It’s my job.”

  He shook the driver’s hand then climbed the steps to the house, steeling himself for the task ahead. He’d need to keep calm and watchful. He shut the door behind him, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the hook on the wall.

  “You girls get rid of your jackets and ski pants. Then take everything else off except your panties and bras. I’ll turn the heat up so you’re not cold. You’ll stand side-by-side in front of the fireplace.”

  Sitting down to slip his boots off, he heard no movement. Lifting his head, he made eye contact with each woman. “Maybe you need incentive?” He stood, walking toward them. They quickly removed their jackets and ski pants, and he sat back down, pulling off his boots.

  Preston came into the room. “I called Murray and told him that we’d be eating pizza for dinner. So, we have the house to ourselves this evening. No worries.”

  Maxim nodded. “Good thinking. Thank you, Preston.”

  “No need to shock our chef. One chef being shocked in a day is enough.” He slapped Maxim’s shoulder as he sat down on one of the two couches near the fireplace
.

  Maxim sat on the coffee table, staring at the three women. “Very pretty panties, ladies.”

  Avery had a skimpy black and red thong on. The front piece had heart-shaped openings in the material, exposing her skin above her pussy, and the puffy, pink lips further down. Her bra was black, with heart shaped openings that exposed her nipples, the hard nubs poking through the openings. Her face turned a pretty shade of pink as all three of the men focused on her pussy and breasts.

  Inga had cream-colored boy short panties and a demi bra with black polka dots. There were khaki accents on the hips and a delicate black bow just above her mons. The bra was khaki on the underside with black stripes while the upper part of the cups were cream colored with black polka dots. Simple, but very sexy.

  And Caroline, his Caroline, had on one of her famous sexy panties. Black lace that dipped low in the front and the back, with a bright yellow bow on the front. Because he’d watched her put them on that morning, he knew there was a bright orange bow just above the crack of her ass too. The black lace bra was just as see-through as the panties, and her nipples and areola were clearly outlined through the sheer material, a bright yellow mini bow between her breasts.

  All three women were nervously shifting their weight from one foot to the other, the men trying to casually adjust the bulges between their legs into a less uncomfortable position.

  “I want you to line up, standing in front of me so I can pull your panties off. I’ll let you keep your bras on, but if you break a rule, the bra comes off too.” He pointed toward his wife. “Caroline, you’re familiar with this. You first.”

  She shuffled her way over to him, flicking a quick glance at the other men.

  “Yes, they’re watching your gorgeous ass wobble over to me. Everybody loves your ass, sweetie. Don’t doubt it for a minute.”

  “Maxim!” She hissed, glaring at him.

  “Master!”

  “I’m sorry, Master.” Her cheeks blushed, the color spreading all the way down to the top of her black lace bra. Preston and Garrett leaned in to look at the back of her panties, nodding at each other.