by Dubois, Lila
He searched her face. She looked…sad. Or was that scared? Disappointed?
Disappointed.
His lips twitched. “Ah, I see the problem. You thought this was it?”
She didn’t reply.
“It’s not dawn,” he said gently. “I got ahead of myself talking about next time.”
“We’re not done?”
Now he laughed. “No, we’re not. Don’t worry, sweet, I’m not nearly done playing with you. How is the plug?”
“Heavy,” she said. “And I think it almost came out.”
“Ah, your muscles have relaxed enough that now you’re having to actively keep it in?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And every time you clench your ass around the plug, do you remember what it felt like to have my finger inside you, to have me put the plug in you?”
She shivered and swayed toward him, even as she lowered her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He cupped her head and kissed her forehead. “Now let’s get you off your knees and I’ll inspect the plug. I want you to wear it longer, but perhaps a slightly larger one with a narrower neck will be easier.”
He stood and then reached down to help her up. He held her as she flexed her legs and found her feet. Once she was steady, he took advantage of the moment, sliding his hands up her torso to cup her breasts. She hummed in pleasure as he flicked her nipples.
He walked her over to the horse and helped her bend, resting on it. This time he didn’t tie her down, instead holding her in place with a hand on her back and a command for her to remain still. He put on a fresh glove and toyed with the plug, rocking it inside her before finally pulling it out. He held it at the widest point, looking at the way her body, glistening with lube, stretched around it.
He wiped off the plug, then put it in a plastic bag to be cleaned later. He selected a different plug. This one was plastic so not so heavy but bigger, with a narrow neck and three-inch base. She would feel this one going in.
He added lube, then, simply because he wanted to, fucked her ass with one finger. As he pumped his arm, she danced up on her toes, making soft, sweet noises.
“This plug is larger,” he warned her. “But it will stay in better.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He thought about what she’d said, that she hadn’t trusted anyone enough to do serious anal play. That should temper his plans, should send him to fetch a smaller, narrower plug.
Instead he dripped lube onto the tip of the plug and pressed it against her anus. The first inch slid in easily.
He pressed harder, watched her go still as she felt the difference between this plug and the first one.
“It’s…bigger.”
“It is,” he confirmed.
He pressed in another half inch, and she whimpered.
“I want to plug you,” he told her, deciding to try to trigger her submissive needs rather than ordering her to relax. “I want you to feel stretched and full. Will you take this plug, for me?”
Another whimper, then she said, “Yes, Sir.”
It was almost fully in, but the widest part would stretch her far more than the one before.
“I want you to arch your back, stick your ass up in the air. Good. Tell me how much you want it,” he demanded.
“I…I want you to plug me.” In the course of that single sentence, her voice changed from unsure and worried to needy. “I want you to shove it in. I want you to hurt me and use me and plug me and fuck me and—”
James pressed the plug all the way in. Christiana stopped speaking, screaming through her teeth. He kept his thumb on the base, moving it in small motions to help her get used to it.
She sighed and relaxed. “Thank you, Sir.”
Oh yes, he was going to collar this woman. She would be his.
Chapter 10
James rubbed his cold glass over her nipple, then replaced the cold with the heat of his mouth. Christiana tipped her head back, humming in pleasure. He sucked, licked, and then tugged on the tip of her breast with his teeth before releasing her.
“You’re smiling,” he said softly.
“I am?” She lowered her chin to look at him. His face, his lovely handsome face, was less than a foot away from her as she knelt astride his lap, her knees wedged against the padded arms of a large armchair.
“You are,” he confirmed. His fingers plucked the nipple that had so recently been in his mouth.
A sharp tug, her wet nipple slipped from his grasp, and she let out a little gasping yelp of pleasure.
“Now you’re smiling,” she told him.
“Because I enjoy playing with you.”
“I enjoy being played with, Sir.”
His smile became a grin. “I’ve noticed.” He reached behind her and toyed with the base of the plug, tugging gently.
The large plug, which was thicker than the first but with a long, narrow neck, pressed at her from within. She got a vivid flash of the very-recent memory of being bent over to have the first plug removed before he’d inserted this larger plug and let her sit astride his lap.
Footsteps approached, and a handsome man stopped beside them. “Having fun?”
James looked over and grinned. “I am. Jun, this is Christiana. Christiana, Jun-Seo.”
Christiana leaned a little toward James, slightly nervous with the stranger so close to their chair. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you. This is Sophy.” Jun casually flicked one of the bells dangling from the nipple of his female companion, who had a black leather mask covering the lower half of her face.
Sophy inclined her head at them, and Christiana returned the nod.
“He’s a good guy.” Jun jerked his chin at James. “Small dick, but still a nice guy.”
Christiana pressed her lips together, sliding a glance to James. He shot the other man a wry expression, then patted her ass. “You better laugh, just to save Jun’s fragile ego.”
“Ha ha,” Christiana said, making it sound as fake as possible, though she had been amused.
Jun flicked the other bell, which hung from a small clamp attached to Sophy’s nipple. Sophy’s eyes fluttered closed, and the tiny bell tinkled softly.
Christiana watched Jun play with the other woman, who had high, firm breasts and lovely dark nipples, and her own breasts ached to feel James’s fingers and teeth once more. She glanced at him, only to find him watching her intently.
“Jun, do you have an extra set of bell clamps?”
“Sure, you want them?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll have Sophy bring them over in a minute.” Jun put his hand on the small of Sophy’s back and led her away.
Christiana was holding her breath, and James stroked her ribs. “Exhale,” he ordered.
Christiana released her breath in a little puff of laughter. “Sorry.”
“You like those bell clamps?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m not sure why, but they’re so…”
“Jun has an affinity for functional BDSM jewelry—and they draw attention. Are you sure you’re not an exhibitionist?”
“No, Sir. I mean, yes, I’m sure I’m not. I wasn’t really thinking about them drawing attention.”
He cupped her breasts, lifting and kneading them while they continued to talk. Christiana’s pussy pulsed with need. He’d been right, that one orgasm hadn’t been enough, and he’d had her in a delicious state of arousal ever since then.
“Then perhaps you like the way Jun played with them.”
She swallowed. “I think maybe that’s it.”
He leaned forward and kissed each nipple, then laved them with his tongue. “If what you want is to be played with, I’m happy to oblige.”
“You’re so giving, Sir.”
“Aren’t I?”
The quiet sound of tiny bells drew their attention. Sophy, still wearing the half-mask, was standing beside the armchair, a pair of nipple clamps, this set gold rather than silver, resting on her outstretched palm.
/> “Ah, thank you, Sophy.” James took the clamps from her. Sophy inclined her head, then looked at Christiana and winked before walking away, bells tinkling.
James held the clamps up so she could see them. They were circular, with small balls on the tips, the bells hanging from one-inch chains that dangled from the bottom.
“These are custom-made,” James said. “You have to adjust them with a jeweler’s screwdriver rather than a built-in screw. Give me your hand, palm up.”
She did, and he laid one of the clamps on her palm. It was warm from the heat of his hand.
He held the second up so she could see it, gently grasped the edges, and pulled. It was only then that she saw the tiny break on the underside, and a small spring that allowed it to open. When he released it, the circle closed, but not all the way. There was a quarter inch between the balls.
He was going to put that on her, let it pinch down on her nipple, while the bell dangled from the chain. She was both excited and terrified.
“You’re breathing hard,” he murmured.
She held her breath.
He chuckled and tapped her ribs. “Breathe, Christiana.”
She exhaled. “Yes, Sir.”
“Now for the fun part. Preparing these sweet nipples.” He tapped each with the clamp he held, then set it in her palm with its mate.
James cupped her breasts, pressing them together, and then bent his head. Her breasts weren’t quite large enough for him to take both nipples in his mouth at the same time, but when he flicked the right one with his tongue, his cheek rubbed against the left nipple. Hot breath fanned over her saliva-damp skin, and the mixture of hot and cold was a delicious sensation, but not nearly as wonderful as when he took her nipple between his lips and tugged, then sucked until her nipple was drawn in to his mouth, between the hard edges of his teeth.
Her pussy and ass clenched, the plug a thick reminder of her submission. She could feel her heartbeat in her sex as her body heated and throbbed with arousal. Her legs were spread wide, and it would be easy, so easy, for him to slip a hand between them and into her pussy, or better yet for him to undo his pants, free his cock, and then she could sink down onto him, take him into her pussy the way she’d taken him in her mouth.
Her nipple popped from his mouth and he barked, “Stop.”
She froze, one hand palm up, holding the clamps. The other was resting on his crotch, fingers closed loosely around his cock.
“I did not give you permission to touch me, Christiana.” His face was hard, stern. All hint of teasing was gone.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Move your hand.”
She yanked it away, laying it on her thigh.
He plucked the clamps from her palm and laid them on the arm of the chair. “Stand up.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“I said stand up.”
Shit. He was angry. Or disappointed. Or both.
She wiggled her legs free, standing before him, naked and nervous.
He raised a brow and she spread her legs, laced her fingers together behind her head, and lowered her gaze.
“Our time is running out, and now we’ll have to dedicate some time for what might have been pleasure to punishment.”
Her stomach knotted and tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I just wanted—”
“You wanted?”
She closed her mouth. She was making this worse.
“I expect you to tell me what you want. That’s part of being honest, but you do not get to act on it. I decide when and if I want you to touch me. I decide when and how I want to touch you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He raised her chin, and the tears that had welled in her eyes spilled. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
His gaze softened. “Ah, my sweet Christiana. Your desire is wonderful and compelling.”
“But you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry, but I’m going to do what we both know is needed.”
She fervently wished she knew what that was, but if she were who she pretended to be, she would know.
Christiana lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see her ignorance. Her tears dried as she took a deep breath and then said, “Yes, Sir.”
“I have something that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Enjoy?”
He laughed. “Fair enough, I was lying, and I promised you honesty. You’re going to hate this, and maybe love it, but it will be a punishment. Bend over the back of the chair.”
She circled around, leaned her hips against the back of the chair, and then bent, planting her hands on the seat, which was still warm from their bodies. She could handle another spanking like last night, though the addition of the plug would certainly change the effects.
Wanting to please him, she spread her legs until her feet were along the outer edge of the chair legs. As she moved, the plug shifted inside her, adding pressure against the inside of her anus, spreading her open just a bit.
Her hair, loose since he’d pulled it down while she sucked his cock, hung on either side of her face, creating a curtain that allowed her only the occasional glimpse of him as he crouched and opened his bag, which she’d heard him call a kit.
Wait, if he was going to spank her, why would he need something from his kit?
Maybe this was going to be more than a spanking with his hand.
That thought caused her to tense as he rose. She didn’t get a glimpse of what he held. His hand settled on her ass, rubbing first one cheek and then the other before tugging gently on the plug, only to press it in deeper.
“You will count these,” he told her. “Only ten. Five on each side.”
“Y-yes, Sir.” She couldn’t stop the anxiety-fueled tremor in her voice.
She felt him reach over her, and the next moment there was a tug on her hair. He combed it back from her face, but it felt odd. It didn’t feel like his fingers.
“Brush,” she gasped, twisting to look back at him.
His mouth was a stern line, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled with a smile. He kept brushing her hair so it all fell to one side in a smooth curtain.
“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist.” He straightened and she caught sight of a wooden-backed oval brush with boar bristles. “Count them.”
He stepped back, his body no longer bent over her, and straining her neck enough to see him hurt, so she looked down at the leather seat of the chair. Something smooth and cool made a circle on her right ass cheek.
She was both scared and exhilarated. This would hurt, she was sure of that, but would it make her cry as it had last night? If it did, she promised herself she wouldn’t waste the last bit of their time together sleeping.
Their time was almost up.
That thought distracted her, and when he landed the first whack on her bottom, she yelped in surprise. The brush made a loud cracking noise as it struck, and a moment later there was a flash of heat and pain.
“Ouch!” she yelped.
“Christiana,” he barked. Why was he angry now?
Count! She was supposed to count.
“One, Sir.”
“No thank you?”
“I’m supposed to thank you?” She couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.
He laughed. “No, I like the honesty more than the pro forma responses.”
That meant yes, she should have said thank you, but she hadn’t, which was another sign of her ignorance, which he was taking to be a sign that she was honest.
Soon enough he’d know what a liar she was.
That thought made her stomach ache, and when the second blow landed on her other cheek, she welcomed the pain. She deserved this, for what she was doing to James.
“Two, Sir.”
She welcomed the pain, it was her due, and counted each one until they reached number six. The sixth blow struck her left ass cheek toward the inside, and the plug shifted in respons
e. As it did, a bolt of pleasure shot through her, and she gasped.
She was enjoying this. It hurt, yes, but instead of a catharsis like last night, the pain of the spanking was mingling with her own need, and she was more aroused than before they’d started.
“Six, Sir.” Her voice was breathless, and she caught sight of him as he leaned to the side to check her face.
The seventh blow was softer, but the edge of the brush hit the plug, making it thrust into her.
“Seven, seven, seven,” she chanted. Her nipples were tight, her pussy was wet and swollen with need.
The eighth was different again, landing on the sensitive spot where her ass met her thigh. This time the crack of the brush was undeniably painful, but it faded quickly, morphing with alarming speed into yet more arousal.
“Eight, Sir.”
The ninth came to the same spot on her other thigh, and she was going to feel those every time she sat down tomorrow. At least she hoped she would.
“Niiiine, Sir.”
“One more, my sweet.” He rubbed circles on her ass with the back of the brush, then flipped it over and pressed the pokey bristles into her hot flesh. She danced up onto her toes in reaction.
“Next time there will be no restrictions,” he all but growled. “Next time I spank you, it will finish with my cock in your sweet pussy or tight ass.”
“Yes, yes, oh please yes, Sir.”
Crack. The final blow hit her right ass cheek dead center.
For one wonderful, strange moment she thought she might orgasm. That didn’t happen, but there was a rush of heat and satisfaction that slid over and through her. James helped her to straighten. Without thinking about it, she resumed her position—legs spread, hands behind her head.
“You may relax,” he told her.
She dropped her arms and swayed into him, still caught in the warm-honey feeling of completion. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered against his neck.
He stroked her hair, her back. “You’re welcome, my sweet.”
“I like that.”
“What?”
“When you call me ‘my sweet.’”
“You are.” He raised her chin, meeting her gaze. “You are sweet, but more importantly, you are mine, aren’t you?”
“Yes, James, I’m yours.” She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. He’d wanted honesty, and that had been honest.
