by L. DuBois
A hood. Khan must have given it to him. Her husband might say he didn’t like meddling, but he wanted to see Rosa happy just as much as she did.
Master Liam walked over to Rosa, then hesitated. Luscious clutched her Master’s arm to stop herself from going over there and shaking him.
He pulled off the blindfold.
Rosa didn’t open her eyes. Liam turned the hood around in his hands, examining it, then gathering it up, as if it were a pair of nylons. Then he placed the top of it on her head and pulled it down.
Rosa jerked a little in surprise, but if she opened her eyes it was too late. The hood was on.
Rather than leather or vinyl, it was made of a smooth cotton and spandex blend. It fit tightly to the head, and covered everything but the submissive’s mouth. An oval-shaped cutout was large enough to show her lips, and for a man to slide his cock into the woman’s mouth. Luscious knew that from experience.
Master Liam hesitated, then tugged on Rosa’s arm, urging her to stand.
“I don’t think she knows—”
Master Khan covered Luscious’s mouth with his hand, silencing what she’d been about to say.
Luscious widened her eyes and she realized that she wasn’t the only one with machinations in play.
Rosa stood, turning her sightless eyes towards the person who held her. The look on Master Liam’s face was heartbreaking—full of love and sadness.
Those two needed to talk, and that wasn’t going to happen if Rosa didn’t know who was topping her, or if she thought it was an uncharacteristically silent Master Khan.
Luscious mumbled into Master Khan’s palm. He responded by tightening his fingers. “I will gag you,” he warned softly. “And add time to your punishment.”
She subsided, then relaxed against her Master. She trusted him—he was a good master, perhaps the best in the club. She might not agree, but she had to trust whatever it was he’d said to Master Liam.
Luscious let her gaze fall, acknowledging his dominance. He removed his hand from her mouth, only to slide two fingers into her mouth. She sucked them, remembering what he’d said she’d be spending the rest of the night doing. She loved pleasing her Master, but doing nothing but taking his lovely cock in her mouth—no other activities or pleasure of her own—was going to leave her not just sexually frustrated, but aroused to the point that she would make bad decisions. She’d just have to hope her Master would take pity on her and help her with some bondage, or maybe an O-ring gag to help her serve him.
Using his grip on her arm, Master Liam led Rosa to the steps. She was tentative, especially when it came time to climb. Once at the top—floor level of the dining room—they stopped and he grabbed both of her shoulders, squeezing in a non-verbal signal to stay.
When Master Liam came back down into the seating area, Rosa stayed in place. Master Liam grabbed the straps he set aside, then came over to where they sat.
“Can I ask for another favor?” Master Liam said softly.
“You may always ask.” Master Khan replied.
“Do you know where I can get some really high heels?”
Master Khan pulled his fingers from Luscious’s mouth. “Well, my angel?”
She looked at the straps he held, then to Rosa, who was in the dark both metaphorically and literally, and smiled. “I know just what you need.”
Liam examined the high heels. They were high heels. The stiletto had to be at least 5 inches. Glossy black, the wide ankle strap almost looked like a cuff.
You’re supposed to be checking on her. Not topping her.
Rosa stood where he’d left her, her head tipped to the side, her lips—the only part of her face visible—slightly parted. She was naked, and looked thinner than she had last time he’d seen her. The skin around her ribs was tight enough that he could see the barest hint of bone.
Had she stopped eating?
Had she been working out too much? She had this weird body dysmorphia and insisted that, since she was half Brazilian, she was supposed to be “Carnival-ready.”
She’d looked so sad and broken, curled up in a corner. He’d wanted to take her out of here, but Master Khan had stopped him, insisted that what she needed was her Master.
At first Liam had thought that was the other man’s way of telling him to leave—that he, Liam, had no place in her life anymore because he wasn’t her master. It had taken more self control than it should have to stop himself from sucker-punching Khan.
But Master Khan was suggesting they needed to scene together. Liam had insisted that she left him, that he couldn’t—or was it shouldn’t—touch her without first having a long, painful conversation.
Then Master Khan suggested the hood.
That dangerous, dark part of him had taken control. The same uncomfortably acceptable impulse that had demanded he go and change, come to her as Master Liam and not just Liam, had spoken for him, agreeing to the plan.
And now he held a pair of ridiculous shoes.
Rosa’s head tipped to the other side, listening to him approach. He touched her shoulder, letting her know he was there. He didn’t mean to do more, but her body was so familiar, and yet still enticing, he couldn’t stop himself from running a hand down her smooth skin. Over her collarbone, between her breasts, and continuing south.
Rosa let out a little moan and he stopped, hand pressed flat to her belly, covering her bellybutton.
She went perfectly still. “I’m sorry…Sir.” The last word was almost a question.
That question was actually an answer. She’d hadn’t seen him, in the brief pause between him pulling the blindfold away and sliding the hood down over her face.
Part of him was disappointed. If she had seen him and was still submitting, maybe they could just ignore everything that had happened and go back to the way things were. Their relationship was…difficult, but he loved her. Missed her.
The pang of disappointment that the easy avenue for reconciliation was closed to him was replaced by a much more dangerous thought.
She didn’t know it was him.
He could do anything. Be anything.
That wild darkness, the source of every rough impulse and barbarous desire, seemed to grow, as if drinking in power at the realization of his domination over her.
His brain threw up one image after the other.
Rosa back in the stocks, except this time her ass was red from him spanking her.
The aftermath of a scene like that is what had precipitated their breakup. He’d looked at her and, in the cold light of their real life, the marks on her had been obscene. Intellectually he knew BDSM wasn’t abuse, but emotionally…emotionally he couldn’t bear to see her hurt. He’d watched her suffer too much in the past.
That thought melted away, to be replaced by another perverse and arousing image.
Rosa with arms over her head, yelping and moaning as he used the cane on her.
Rosa whimpering in mingled pleasure and pain as he worked a massive dildo into her tight ass.
Rosa on her knees, his cock in her mouth as he pulled on chains connected to clover clamps on her nipples, labia, and clit.
Rosa bound with her legs spread, pussy visibly dripping, snarling and demanding that he fuck her, because he’d kept her on the verge of orgasm for hours, driving her to the point of madness.
Rosa, exhausted by pleasure and lying sprawled on the bed, well used pussy visible because she knew better than to ever close her legs for him.
Liam slid his hand down to her pussy, letting the heel of his hand rest on her mound.
She hesitated for only a moment before spreading her legs.
Liam dropped to one knee and parted her labia like the petals of a flower, exposing her soft, pink inner flesh. He loved looking at her. He knew it made her uncomfortable, and that she didn’t really believe it when he said he liked to lick her pussy.
What he really liked about it was making her come until her thigh muscles trembled.
Setting the shoes on th
e ground between her legs he used both hands to play with her pussy. He stroked her exposed clit with one finger. She jumped, letting out a delicious little noise.
That’s right. You’re mine. I can touch you however I want. All you can do is obey me.
Index and middle finger of his right hand holding her open, he blew on her clit, helping to dry the scant wetness, then pinched her clit with his thumb and middle finger of the other hand.
She cried out, hunching forward, knees angling in as she instinctively tried to close her legs.
Liam pinched her clit harder.
Another cry, then some whimpers.
And then…
And then she straightened her back, spread her legs open even wider than before and raised her arms, lacing her fingers together behind her head.
He released her clit, waited, then pinched it again. She bit down on her lip, but wasn’t able to fully mute the whimpers of pain.
Yet she didn’t try and close her legs. She accepted the pain. She submitted.
Liam opened his mouth and exhaled. It was such a simple thing, but it felt…different. As if he’d exhaled more than air.
And when he breathed in… Oh when he breathed in…
He tasted her submission, a sweet yet spicy thing that made that darkness inside him wild with need.
He released her clit, then wrapped his hand around her left ankle. It took her only a moment to figure out what he wanted. She brought the foot in, so she could shift her weight and balance on one leg. He guided her to lift her left leg, then slid the shoe onto her bare foot, buckling the ankle strap.
Tentatively, she put her foot down, teetering when the heel touched down. She put her weight onto her left foot, rising onto the toes of her right, but couldn’t find her balance. She reached out for something to steady herself, her hand coming towards his head.
He ducked to the side, so she grabbed his shoulder. In the good times, she’d liked to run her hands through his hair. He wasn’t sure if she’d recognize him based on his hair, but he wasn’t going to risk it.
He wasn’t willing to give up his anonymity.
Even that oblique reminder of who they were to each other, what they’d gone through together, didn’t diminish how he felt in this moment.
He was her Master.
People were watching them. The dining room had mostly cleared out, though Master Khan and the rest of his harem were still there. But they didn’t matter—normally Liam was reluctant to scene with an audience, in case he did something wrong, and the other Doms and Masters realized he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Not that he hadn’t done his homework, but every Dom had an opinion about how things should be and, by their very nature, they weren’t shy about saying so. Already uneasy, that sort of thing had paralyzed Liam in the past.
Whatever the dark desire inside him was, it had wiped away his insecurities. What they thought didn’t matter. She was his. Therefore everything, and anything, he did to her was his right.
He helped her find her balance until she was perched on the left high heel, her fingers digging into his shoulder. Guiding her other foot into the second shoe, he fastened that strap. She teetered, the height of the heels forcing her weight into her toes. Once she seemed steady he gently pushed her hand away from him and stood.
Now for the straps.
He pulled her arms behind her back, moving slowly enough that he wouldn’t cause her to fall off the heels. There was harsh ripping sound as he opened up the Velcro strap. She gasped.
The first strap went around both wrists, forcing them together. The second went mid-way up her forearms, pulling her shoulders back. She leaned forward in an attempt to counter-balance her weight, but almost tipped off the heels. He grabbed her hips, holding her steady until she wasn’t swaying.
He should leave her arms like that. To do any more was cruel.
The third strap—a longer one than the first two—went around her elbows, forcing her arms behind her back, until they touched from wrist to mid-forearm and there was less than two inches of space between her elbows.
“Sir, I’m not sure—”
His reply was to open another strap, the sound of the Velcro drowning out her objections.
This one went around her knees, pulled tight around the narrow space above her calf muscle and below her kneecaps. One more, this time at mid-thigh, and he was done.
She was hobbled.
Hood and hobble, Master Khan had suggested. It was a good suggestion. Adding the high heels—another checklist item—to the hobble had been his idea. Now who was boring? Not him, damn it.
The straps around her thighs and knees would stop her from taking regular size steps. The heels would mean that each mincing step would be an exercise in balance. Having her arms pulled behind her back would only add to the difficulty.
Master Khan had offered him a collar and leash to go with the hood, but he had a better idea.
Touching her shoulder, in a silent command to stay in place, Liam went to Master Khan, who raised a brow as he approached.
Liam silently reached out and pinched Luscious’s nipples. The woman gasped, then moaned. Master Khan’s other eyebrow rose, then in matching silence he fished around in his pocket and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps.
Liam took them, nodded more in acknowledgement than thanks and went back to Rosa.
She was trying to hold still, but wasn’t entirely successful. The muscles in her legs—the bunched muscles of her calves, and long lean quads of her thighs, were constantly twitching in an effort to keep her weight centered on the balls of her feet. Her ass looked round and spankable, and her naked breasts were thrust out because of the position of her arms. The sweet, honey-gold mounds begged to be cropped, then licked, then bitten, then stroked.
The clamps would do, for now.
He indulged himself for a moment, bouncing each breast in turn on his palm, then pinching and plucking the nipples. He worked them until the tips were hard nubs, begging to be abused.
He loosened the screw on the clamps, then pinched the first one open. With his other hand he grabbed her nipple and pulled, stretching it. Then he applied the clamp, letting it snap closed on her.
Rosa let out a little scream and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her shoulder. Her mouth, the only visible part of her face, was open, her lips wet as she panted.
“S-sir,” she huffed. He waited but that was all she said.
He tightened the screw on the clamp, making sure it was tight enough that he would be able to pull on the chain connecting it to its mate without it coming off. He released her shoulder and grabbed the other nipple.
Rosa whimpered and tried to hunch her shoulders, but that only made her sway on the heels.
“You still have a safe word,” Master Khan called out.
Liam shot him a dirty look. The other man had no right to interfere. Master Khan met his gaze, brow arching again. Liam bared his teeth in a faux smile. Master Khan blinked.
The rational part of his mind was insisting that Master Khan had been right to speak up, that Rosa needed to know she was safe.
The inky, dominant part of him, which was currently in control, didn’t want Master Khan interfering. It didn’t want her to feel safe. It wasn’t that he wanted her scared, exactly… He wanted her unsure, on edge. He wanted her to feel vulnerable and exposed, because then she wouldn’t be able to forget that he was in control. That she had chosen to submit, and in doing so, now had no more choices.
He plucked her other nipple and snapped the second clamp on, screwing it tight.
Rosa tipped her hooded face up to the ceiling, panting.
Liam slid one hand between her legs, checking her pussy. She’d been damp before. Now she was wet. His fingers slid easily between her labia, and when he parted the inner lips with one finger, the gathered natural lubrication coated his hand. He played with her pussy for a moment, indulging himself. When the side of his thumb bumped her clit, her teeth clacked together
and she sucked in air. Her lips were pulled back in a sort of grimace that might have been either pleasure or pain.
Hopefully both.
He withdrew his hand, wiping his fingers against her hip.
He hooked one finger in the chain between her nipples and tugged. She sucked in more air, then released it on a moan. He tugged again, eliciting more sweet sounds, but she didn’t start walking. He stopped, considered, and then tugged while also reaching around to tap her butt with the other hand.
She seemed to realize what he wanted, and tried to take a step. She’d either forgotten about the straps around her knees, or underestimated them. She fell, the heels sliding out from under her.
He caught her, wrapping both arms around her and clutching her to his chest. Her head rested against his shoulder. She was panting nervously.
Her hooded head turned, and he felt her lips brush his neck, then his beard. She froze.
“S-sir?”
He set her back on her feet, held her by the shoulders until she stopped swaying. Then he gently tugged on the nipple chain.
She took a small step, her right foot coming forward no more than six inches. She brought her left foot forward in a tiny, jerky step. He held onto the nipple chain, not exactly pulling on it, but keeping the tension up, so she’d know he wanted her to keep going. He was using tactics from some long ago, half-forgotten horse riding lessons.
That made it more perverse. More enjoyable. Less bland.
Hobbled step by hobbled step she walked across the dining room. She was panting the from effort. Thin as she was, he could see her core muscles tightening and flexing as she struggled to balance and walk, all with her arms bound behind her.
He hadn’t really understood how difficult this would be for her. With every step he considered easing her torment—removing the straps from around her arms so she could use them to balance. Loosening the strap around her knees, so she could take larger steps.
But he didn’t. He made her work, made her suffer to obey him.
When they reached the dining room door, he slid his finger between the lips of her pussy, then thrust it up into her.
