by Dubois, Lila
“Relax your arms,” he ordered. She did, her elbows dropping alongside the horse, but her wrists didn’t move.
He massaged her upper arms and shoulders, kneading them with his bare hands. She kissed his thumb. He paused, as if surprised, and she winced internally, but he stroked her cheek and she relaxed again. His hands kept going, kneading and stroking his way along her back to her ass, which he rubbed with a casual possessiveness that made her pussy wet.
“Spread your legs.”
She walked her feet apart, heel toe, heel toe. Now she understood why he’d lowered the horse. As her feet separated, her lower belly came to rest on the cool leather. She shivered a little, watching as James once more crouched, just out of her line of vision, pulling something from his kit. He stood, holding what looked like a small curtain rod with decorative circular finials. He twisted, then extended it until it was three feet long, and locked it at that length.
It wasn’t a curtain rod. It was a spreader bar.
Next he selected two smaller coils of matching red rope, slipping them over his left arm.
He stepped up behind her, and she was hyper aware of how exposed she was.
She lifted her head and twisted her neck, straining to look over her shoulder, but when he knelt she gave up, laying her cheek on the leather, and closed her eyes, concentrating on what she could feel and hear. His fingers kneaded her calf muscle, then stroked her ankle. Cool, smooth rope slid around her ankle, drawing tight. More rope was added, climbing up her ankle, then he must have started a second layer atop where he’d already placed rope, as she felt added pressure, though it didn’t get any tighter. There were a few tugs—he must have been tying a knot—and then the pressure of a weight as he tied one end of the spreader bar to her rope cuff.
He repeated the process with her other ankle, using the same, unhurried movements, until that ankle too was bound in a rope cuff and secured to the spreader bar.
Anticipation rolled through her, but rather than making her tense, this anticipation was like warm honey, coaxing her to relax into the feeling.
James’s hands traced a path up her legs, thumbs pressing against the back of her knees, fingers kneading her thighs. His hands kept going up until he cupped the cheeks of her ass. She had enough range of motion that she was able to press back against his hands, offering herself to him.
“Eager?” He spanked her lightly.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. I think that the rest of the evening will be much more fun once this is in.”
Christiana stopped breathing for a moment. A shiver of mixed fear and arousal slid along her spine. “It’s…in?”
“Ah, haven’t you guessed? I’m going to plug your sweet ass.”
Chapter 9
Before this moment she would never have guessed that such a chaotic mix of emotions was possible. She was simultaneously eager, aroused, scared, apprehensive, and, of all odd things, hopeful.
The hope was what she focused on, just because it was such an unexpected emotion to be feeling in this moment. She closed her eyes, locking herself in the darkness behind her lids with her thoughts so she could parse out the emotions.
She was hopeful because…because with James the reality might live up to the fantasy.
She opened her eyes. She hadn’t been particularly sexually adventurous until now, but she wasn’t a prude. She was aroused by the idea of these sort of things, but the reality of it seemed weird and awkward. She was hoping that James would make her enjoy it, or maybe it was more accurate to say that when James did it—because he did it?—she would enjoy it.
He stood, a dark blue toothpaste-like tube in one hand and a large silver plug in the other.
Arousal and fear jumped to the top of the emotional mix, and she tensed. The ropes creaked slightly in response to her movement. She’d momentarily forgotten that she was tied down, and that fresh reminder of her helplessness, combined with the sight of the plug, had her breathing as hard and fast as if she’d been running.
“Shhh.” James transferred both items to one hand, then stroked her cheek and neck. “You need to relax, Christiana. Don’t forget you have a safeword.”
She didn’t want to use her safeword. She wanted him to hurry up and do it, get it over with, so she would know—know how much it would hurt, know if she would like it, know if her hope was misplaced.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
“Good. Now don’t fidget.” He placed the lube and plug on her back. The metal plug was cold enough to make her shiver. It felt heavy. What was it going to feel like once it was inside her?
There was a snapping sound, and when he turned back around he wore a black medical glove on his right hand. He smiled, a wicked, delicious smile. She relaxed.
“You like this?” she asked. “Doing this to women?”
“Do I enjoy plugging women’s asses? Yes.”
“Can I ask why, Sir?”
“Of course. And I’ll even answer you, though I’ll answer as I prep you.” He plucked the tube off her back, and the cap clicked. “For many women, anal sex is the forbidden fruit—something that only a perverse partner would want or be willing to do. That alone makes it particularly appealing in BDSM play, because being touched here has high impact.” He separated the cheeks of her ass, one bare hand, one gloved.
The thumb of his gloved hand—she could tell by the texture—slid across her anus. She clenched, pressing her cheek hard into the leather.
“Ah ah ah, relax.” His thumb continued to rub back and forth over the puckered entrance to her ass, and she was shocked by how pleasurable it felt.
“That feels good,” she admitted.
“There are a surprising number of nerve endings in the anus.” There was a pause as he added more lube. “I’m going to ask you a question.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Have you ever participated in anal play before?”
Damn it. She’d been so caught up in what was happening, in what he was doing to her, that she’d forgotten that she needed to pretend to know more than she did. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, that she’d never actually had anal sex with another person, only done some solo play in a quest to understand what people were so excited about.
The tip of his thumb pressed against her, then into her. She yelped, tensing around him.
“Truth, Christiana.”
“I’ve done anal stuff before,” she stammered. That wasn’t technically a lie. “But not much.”
“And why not?”
“I haven’t—ah!” His thumb was pushing deeper, and she could feel each millimeter. “I didn’t find someone I trusted.” Those words were wholly truth.
He paused, then started to withdraw his thumb. “In that case, I’m honored. Perhaps I will rethink my plans.”
“No, Sir, please. I want it. I want you to do what you were planning to do. Don’t change because I’m not…” Not who you think I am.
“Christiana, that will be my decision, won’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.” She relaxed into her bindings. What else could she do? He was in control, and she very much liked that.
He withdrew his thumb all together, and that was another interesting sensation that probably wouldn’t have been pleasurable with anyone but James.
Again his finger pressed against her, opening her with firm, steady pressure. This time she relaxed and it slid in much more easily. She held her breath as it went deeper, he went deeper, until she could feel his knuckles against the inner curve of her ass cheek.
“That’s my index finger, as deep as it can go. I’m going to use the plug now. As much as I’d like to hear the sweet noises you’d make if I used two fingers, that might be a bit blunt. The plug has a taper that my fingers do not.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Plus, I find myself anxious to have you plugged and on your knees.”
He was going to make her suck his cock. For the first time in her life, she was thrilled by that idea. “I wan
t that, too, Sir.”
“Good.”
Something cold and smooth rubbed against her anus. The tip slid in smoothly, as did the first half inch. Then, as James applied firm, slow pressure to the plug, it sank in deeper, forcing her body to stretch around the unforgiving metal.
The sensation morphed from illicit pleasure to discomfort, and she shifted from side to side, trying to alleviate the feeling. He paused while she moved, waiting until she was still again to slide the plug in even deeper.
“Does it hurt?” he asked her softly.
“N-no, not exactly,” she replied, then hastened to add, “Sir.”
“Good, right now it shouldn’t hurt. It may be uncomfortable, it may make you feel full and used, but there shouldn’t be pain.”
“I do feel full, used.” She liked the way those words tasted, dirty and delicious. She rose on her toes, wanting more—more of the plug, more of him.
He slapped her ass. “Eager? Hold still. You’ll get the plug on my timetable, not your own.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pushed more, and she could feel the pressure he was exerting. “Relax,” he said. “You’re tensing.”
As aroused as she was, she realized she was fighting it, because she wasn’t sure she could stretch much more than this. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
There was a click, and more cool, slippery lube dripped onto her ass. He withdrew the plug, twisting it, then started to slide it back in again.
“Now, I want you to relax for me. I’m going to push the plug all the way in now. There might be a moment of pain when the widest part enters you. Are you ready for that?” He stroked her hip and leg with the hand not manipulating the plug.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you? Even for the pain?”
“I want the pain,” she whimpered. “No, that’s not it.” She inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “I want you to hurt me.”
James pushed the plug in with one firm thrust. There was a flash of sharp discomfort that might have been pain if she hadn’t been so wildly aroused. Then the plug was inside her, filling her, and her body closed around the narrow section. The neck of the plug was wide enough that she still felt stretched. It was thick and heavy inside her.
She finally understood the appeal of this sort of sex play, understood the stories she’d read where being fucked anally, or having a plug in, made the woman feel more sexual, more submissive, or both. She felt both right now.
She lay on the horse, her hot breath fanning over her arm, her pussy throbbing with need. James made quick work of untying her hands. He helped her stand, steadied her when she swayed. Her feet were still spread, and held that way by the bar.
Once she had her balance, helped her turn—supporting and guiding her—until she was positioned with a clear area of floor in front of her.
James stood before her, his hands at his sides, but he was not relaxed. He was tense—his hands curling and uncurling slowly, and there were spots of color high on his elegant cheekbones. He was nearing the edge of his own control. Somehow that made her feel powerful—she’d done this to him, brought him this close to the edge.
“On your knees,” he commanded.
She didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees, swaying a little due to the spreader bar. He stepped up to her, his erection a hard bulge at the front of his slacks.
“Unzip my pants,” he commanded.
Christiana licked her lip and reached for his zipper.
* * *
He’d waited too long, he was too close to losing control. He always enjoyed playing with a woman’s ass, enjoyed plugging her, knowing she would think of him every time she moved and the plug reminded her of her submission. He’d always enjoyed it, but never before had the relatively mundane task of inserting a plug made him feel this way.
Christiana was careful with his zipper, lowering it slowly, and only then reaching up to undo the button at his waistband. He was wearing black boxer briefs, which she revealed when she pulled his pants down around his thighs. He began to unbutton his shirt, not wanting the tails to interfere. When it was unfastened, he pulled it open, flicking the edges back.
Christiana was examining his erection, still captive in his boxers. Her gaze slid up his bare stomach, chest, and finally to his face. They looked at one another, but it felt more like they were looking into one another. James slid his hand into her hair, under the high bun, and slowly made a fist. Her tongue came out to wet her lip as she continued to look at him.
“Take me in your mouth and suck me,” he commanded.
Still holding his gaze, she ran one hand over his erection, then grabbed the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His erection sprang free, standing up proud, hot, and aching. One hand curled over his hip while the other took hold of the base of his cock, tugging it down. She licked her lips again, then opened her mouth. He watched, breathless and rapt, as she took him in.
His eyes closed in pleasure at the feel of lips and tongue on the head of his cock. She wasn’t tentative, but she wasn’t rehearsed. She licked and sucked, then slowly took him in deeper, until her lips touched her fingers, wrapped around the base of him. She held him there, the tip rubbing against the back of her mouth. He heard her inhale through her nose as she pulled back.
He let her set the pace for the first few minutes. The more brutal side of him wanted to cuff her hands behind her back, render her helpless, and then fuck her mouth. That base instinct warred with the part of him that wanted to protect her. Looking down at her, her pretty mouth sliding along his cock, was weakening his control, so he closed his eyes. That meant he could concentrate on the feel of her mouth, the wet sounds she made and her heavy breathing. He forced himself to be still, using this moment as a test of his own control.
This was hardly the first time he’d had his cock sucked, yet it felt new and different.
He was going to claim her.
He’d been playing with that thought on and off all day, but now he was sure. At the next gathering, he’d claim her. It would be gauche to try to do it this time, when it was her first event. Perhaps waiting until her second event wasn’t enough, but that was as much as he was willing to wait. When they arrived in Luxembourg, he’d claim her, maybe even collar her for the duration of the event.
Maybe collar her permanently.
That thought should have startled him, or made him balk, but instead he grinned, eyes still closed. It was, without a doubt, his dick doing his thinking, and his dick wanted Christiana on a permanent basis.
He had a vision of her, naked except for a wide steel collar and nipple piercings.
James’s eyes snapped open and he looked down at her. This time when she pulled back, her lips dragging the length of his cock, he stopped her from moving in again. Her hair tumbled out of the bun as he tightened his hand.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he warned her. “Do you understand?”
Still holding the tip of his cock in her mouth, she looked up and nodded slightly.
Damn him if he didn’t love the sight of a woman, especially this woman, looking up at him from her knees.
“Drop your hand. You can hold on to my thighs if you need to keep your balance.”
She released his cock, and the lack of pressure around the root of his dick actually brought him closer to orgasm.
James adjusted his weight, cupped the back of her head, and then pressed into her mouth. He went in deeper than before, his cock sliding into her throat. He felt her gag and immediately withdrew, waiting until he heard her inhale before pushing in again, going just as deep. This time she was able to suppress the gag.
He kept up a slow, measured pace for as long as he could. It should have been longer. He was an experienced Dom—even when he was in the middle of his own orgasm there should be a part of him that remained detached and in control. With Christiana, that didn’t happen. He clenched his teeth, tipped his head back, and fucked her mouth with a brutal intensity that made his desperate need all t
oo apparent.
Christiana’s fingers pressed hard into his thighs, holding him, not pushing him away. He was not so far gone that he would ignore a sign of distress.
His balls tightened, his cock twitched, and he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. James pulled out, grabbed his cock, and gave it two hard strokes. Despite the shocking loss of her hot, wet mouth, he came with the aid of his fist and the visual stimulation of her there on her knees, mouth open, lips glossy and pink. His come splattered on her breasts.
He was breathing hard, and had to take a moment to calm himself before he could tuck his still semi-erect cock into his boxers and pants and fasten them. Christiana watched him silently as he went to his bag and pulled out a packet of bamboo microfiber washcloths. He took one soft white square of fabric, knelt, and wiped his semen from her chest.
“My apologies, Christiana, we didn’t discuss in advance if you were okay with me coming on you.”
“I’m okay with it, Sir.”
“Good. Next time I won’t make that mistake.”
“Next…time?”
She was giving him a wide-eyed look, and he realized she must think he was going to fuck her mouth again right now. He shot her a rueful grin. “I don’t recover that quickly, though if anyone could inspire me to, it might be you. I mean at the next event we’ll discuss more beforehand.”
Unable to resist, he leaned in to kiss her, then knee-walked around until he was behind her and untied the spreader bar. He left the rope cuffs around her ankles, looping the ends and securing them so she wouldn’t trip.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
James leaned until he could see her face. She turned away from him. He grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him. “Christiana, don’t hide from me. Honesty, remember?”
“Honesty,” she said quietly.
