Tormented Dreams: Club Risqué Book Seven

by Flynn, Poppy

  It was insane, the level of desire he could bring her to with so little effort, and in all her years, both outside the lifestyle as well as in it, she'd never before felt it this intensely with any other man.

  "There is very little I like more than a willing submissive kneeling at my feet, ready and waiting for me to fuck her mouth," Xavier rumbled, and Grace found her own mouth watering at the prospect.

  "But first, I like to use her well, to have her embrace all of the pain I wish to inflict, to mould and shape her mind until she is reduced to a puddle of need and the only thing she is aware of is me and the sensations I can provide."

  Yes, please! Grace screamed within the confines of her mind, but she was disciplined enough to keep her lips sealed shut.

  She was pretty sure Master X was well aware of just how he affected her, by the short pants that were her breath and the unmistakeable scent of her arousal. Never mind the very obvious giveaway of her nipples, which were so toe-curlingly pebbled that they had begun to ache as they strained toward him, begging for his touch.

  Encouraging her to her feet with his hand still wrapped in her hair, Xavier led her over to the open station, where he wasted no time in shackling her wrists into a pair of cushion lined cuffs. They were attached to a chain suspended from the ceiling, and he adjusted it so that she was stretched to the very limits of comfort.

  This was going to be an entirely new experience, Grace acknowledged, within the silent depths of her mind.

  For almost two decades, since she'd first recognised her own intrinsic, but admittedly somewhat harsh and radical needs as a masochist, she had always sought her fulfilment by way of a straightforward corporal punishment.

  Not once, in all of that time, had anyone ever sought to veer her in a different direction and she herself had never thought to wander from that path.

  No Dom had ever taken it upon himself to test her boundaries or offer her any alternate type of pain for her body to absorb and construe into her very own, personal brand of twisted pleasure.

  Grace was also honest enough to admit that she was very likely old enough to be set in her ways, to be too entrenched in demanding that which she was used to, and very possibly slightly averse to looking for anything outside the experiences she knew and loved.

  Of course, it also sometimes seemed that her punishments needed to be twice as brutal these days, just for her to attain the same kind of euphoric release that they used to provide years ago. The healing lash marks across her back and buttocks were testament to that. She never used to need to go so far that her skin was torn.

  And that, of course, was a double-edged sword. The harsher the lashings, the longer they took to heal and the more time she had to wait until she was able to seek another fix.

  The desire, the need, was becoming all the greater, in recent months, to defy the prudence of good sense and pursue another thrashing before her wounds were properly healed. And that, she knew, was a downward spiral that would ravage her body with unnecessary and unwanted strain. One that would leave her scarred and ultimately serve to cause irreversible damage, which would eventually bring with it its own set of problems. Problems which she didn't want to have to deal with. And that thought was the only thread which was currently keeping her from taking things that little bit too far.

  So, while she would be overjoyed to find an alternative outlet for her masochistic inclinations, in reality, she held out little hope that anyone would ever be able to provide them. Did that make her unreceptive to new experiences, or would she be able to embrace whatever it was that Xavier had in store for her with an open mind?

  Honestly, she didn't know. But, at this point, she was at least prepared to go with the flow and see where this experience might lead, though it might be fair to say that her expectations weren't very high.

  If it turned out to be a bust, well, nothing would be lost except maybe her rather premature and inappropriate thoughts of Xavier as her baby daddy, and right now, that was her own private little pipe dream. She already had alternatives lined up for that eventuality.

  If she reached her fortieth birthday with no other options in sight, she had already made the decision to go it alone and seek out a donor from a reputable, professional service.

  Of course, she would prefer her child to have the love, commitment, and ultimately, the safety net of an active father and an extended family. Especially since she would be an older mother and had no close family to support her. But at the end of the day, that was her entire wish list, the perfect scenario. She knew, in real life, you certainly didn't get everything you wished for and she was mature enough to know that the chances were slim.

  It didn't change her ultimate goal of having a child.

  Chapter 6

  Her distracted musings were forcibly wrenched back to the present when Xavier delivered a stinging slap to the most sensitive area of her inner thigh.

  "With me!" he demanded briskly before a devilish expression took over his features. "Clearly, I'm going to have to work a little bit harder to keep you in the here and now. I would hate to be accused of not doing my job properly."

  Grace bit her lip and coloured slightly. Oops! Not a great first impression.

  Xavier pressed close, his dark, intense eyes alive with Latino spirit, and rubbed the side of his nose against hers. As soon as she released her bottom lip from the grip of her teeth, Xavi captured it, sucked it sensuously into his own mouth and carefully sank his teeth into the tender flesh with a building pressure until it was just the other side of painful.

  "If anyone is going to bite this lip, then it's going to be me!" he murmured seductively. Then with a final sharp nip, he pulled away and continued to check her bindings as if the intimacy of that moment had never happened.

  Grace swallowed audibly as a shudder of raw lust shivered down her back and pooled low in her belly. Her pussy clenched with the strength of the need this man was stirring within her with just his voice and his gaze. It was insane, the way he affected her so effortlessly!

  Suddenly, all of her awareness was pinpointed on her surroundings, the sights, the sounds, the smells. Bare flesh, swathes of skin, sombre mood lighting with pools of bright spotlight. Whooshes and slaps, groans and murmurs, shrieks and sobs. Sweat and musk and leather and the unmistakable aroma of pure sex.

  Grace felt engulfed, swamped in an erotic melee of sensation which was pitched even higher the moment that Master X took one of her already peaked nipples deep into his hot mouth and suckled hard at the same time as he pulled and pinched at the other pouting bud.

  Her moans were deep and guttural as they joined the cacophony of stimulating noises that twisted through the vast space. They seemed wrenched from her very soul, as he worked deftly to elongate the dark pink tips for what seemed like forever. He sucked and bit first one and then the other, careful never to let its twin feel neglected by twisting and pinching, increasing their sensitivity until they throbbed so hard that Grace was convinced that they'd doubled in size.

  Delicious little slivers of pain zinged down her arms and arrowed into her lady parts, and Grace could only wonder if her breasts had ever before been this stimulated. Then she was inside her own head again and the existence of her surroundings started to recede as the first subtle waves of pleasurable pain replaced all the external stimuli in the playroom, and her private internal sensations were the only things to fill her mind. They were pleasant and different, but nowhere near as intense as she needed.

  That fleeting thought had barely crossed her mind when Xavier raised his head, pulled both her nipples away from her breasts as far as they would possibly stretch, and then nodded to some unseen figure behind her. The next thing she knew, a blindfold had been wrapped around her head and everything went dark.

  "Did you know…" Xavier queried in his husky, dark velvet voice. "…that taking away one of the senses automatically means that all of the rest of them will become more enhanced in order to compensate for the loss?"

  As
he spoke, Grace immediately became aware of a second pair of hands on her body, cupping one of her breasts, plucking at the distended nipple as Master X continued his ministrations on the other.

  Where had they come from?

  Grace had been completely oblivious to Xavier motioning anyone else to join their scene. Not that that stopped her core from clenching decadently. If anything, it turned her on all the more.

  He didn't give her a chance to answer and the question had been rhetorical, anyway. Besides, before she could do so much as draw a breath in, magnificent shards of insular pain speared through the tip of each breast at the same time, dragging a husky whimper from her throat. Her head tipped back as prickles of sensation tingled down her extremities like pins and needles.

  If it could just last a little longer…

  Again, it was as if Master X was tuned in perfectly to her thought processes. No sooner had the beginnings of that notion started to form than there was a sharp tug and delicious arrows of pain tugged at her breasts and sent more shards of sensation flooding through her body.

  Grace gasped at the bite and realised he had attached what must be clover clamps, with a connecting chain, to her nipples.

  She was just beginning to assimilate the sensations when she became aware that someone—Xavier, she assumed—was kneeling in front of her. She could feel the shimmer of hot breath, barely there, against her most tender flesh.

  Mere moments later, the suckling resumed but, this time, on her clit.

  Large hands palmed the globes of her ass, holding her immobile, and Grace could feel the inevitable desire bubbling and building within her pelvis. He brought her almost to the peak with strategic nips and bites but drew away far too quickly for her to reach that ultimate completion.

  Just a little more force, Grace thought as her breath sputtered in short pants, and I would have been there.

  "You do not have permission to come!" Xavier commanded darkly before demanding fingers pinched at her nub and another glorious shard of pain ripped through that delicate flesh.

  A clit clamp, Grace thought before her mind splintered as she battled with herself in a desperate attempt to override her body's desire to climax and instead do Master X's bidding.

  She tried to concentrate on the metallic coolness of what must be another chain as it feathered across her thighs, putting even more pressure on her tormented clitoris before the slack was taken up and the tell-tale tinkle and jangle of the links indicated that it had been connected to the chain at her breasts.

  A delicious pressure snaked from those three points and encompassed her body. Pulling. Tightening. But subtly, without the coarse blaze of a yank, and Grace guessed that he must have added strategically placed weights to the chain. She wiggled her body experimentally and was rewarded with the contraction of the clamps in return.

  "Keep still; I'm not finished," Xavier growled, and Grace immediately stilled.

  "I want you to bend forward," he instructed in a voice laced with pure demand. "I'll release the chain secured to your wrists enough that it will support you, so you don't topple. First, bring your elbows to your sides."

  Grace followed his clipped directions.

  As she bent over, the weights attached to the three clamps that adorned her body swung forward freely, imparting, first, a bite and then a slow building force as she remained inclined.

  Xavier swirled his warm hands across her presented buttocks, carefully reigniting the residual sting from the healing welts that were now on display before his fingers crept closer to her puckered rosette.

  Slick with lube, he glided his fingers past the crinkle of her bottom hole, and Grace revelled in the pressure that built as he forced the persistent digits past the tight ring of muscle, stretching inexorably into the confined space beyond.

  He wasn't gentle; she didn't want him to be, and the sensations that showered through her sparked the orgasm, that had finally been in retreat, right back to life again. She gritted her teeth as she battled to hold it back.

  Behind the blindfold, Grace became aware of a burning sensation around her sensitive back passage and realised that Xavier must have used some special kind of warming lube to open her up with. The feeling was quite delicious, but she hadn't finished enjoying it before a second, more prominent impression forced its way to the fore. Stark, bitter cold! Against the prior heat, its contrast was twice as distinct.

  Grace gasped as Master X pushed what felt like a metal butt plug into her ass. The harsh pumping action had her abdomen tightening with need. But it wasn't until he forced it further and settled it inside her with a silent pop that she realised that there was a far more diabolical contradiction at work here.

  As sensations swirled and built in her back passage, Grace realised that the metal plug had been frozen, and right now, the slow burn from the frigid rod was building and magnifying, pitting itself against the juxtaposed sensation of the warming lube in a silent war that had her gasping and completely unbalanced.

  "What colour are you?" Master X demanded.

  "G-green," Grace stuttered, barely able to push the words past her lips.

  "The plug has been covered with a condom to prevent any freeze burn to your tissues, but if it gets to be too much, you say so immediately," Master X ordered.

  Before she had managed to regain her equilibrium, and without any warning, the chain that secured her arms was wrenched back upward, causing the weights on her nipples and clitoris to bob and sway, tightening the clamps and searing forcefully into those most delicate of places. The bright blaze of sensation wrenched a guttural sob of joy from a throat that was tight with pleasure.

  The globes of her buttocks tightened around the frosty plug, and she would have danced on her toes if they hadn't already been extended past where it was comfortable.

  There was still more to come.

  As Grace tried her best to rationalise all of the conflicting stimuli, she felt flickers of sensation, this time on the fleshy skin of her breast. Was it a tongue? No, it was wet but not warm. A finger perhaps…except it tickled more.

  A brush! She was just congratulating herself on a guess she would have bet was correct when more sensations overlaid the ones that were already battling for supremacy.

  What now? Her areolas were cold, like the butt plug, but there was nothing covering her breasts apart from the clamps. That was when the distinctive smell of menthol hit her nostrils and she knew without doubt that somebody—two somebodies—had painted her skin with the cooling oil. A moment later, and she felt the same sensations on the exposed tips of her nipples as they poked through the grip of the clamps. Not menthol this time, though. Oh, no, this had the feel of the same warming oil as had been used to lube her back passage.

  The conflicting incitements warred with each other, never letting her ease from their grip on her psyche which, without the distraction of sight, was focussed unerringly on every one of those other stimuli, with outrageous consequences.

  Once she was focussed on them, she couldn't pull back, and the very act of concentrating on each of the opposing forces only served to magnify their intensity. Alongside, the unrelenting burn from the butt plug heightened and magnified, swelling inside her rectum.

  Logically, she knew that meant that the plug was warming, the metal which had contracted during the cooling process expanding to fill her even fuller. Of course, any actual warmth was incremental. In reality, the searing cold was painting layer upon layer of bitter iciness along her tender inner tissue so that all she felt was the building pain of unceasing, unremitting cold.

  Her body shuddered uncontrollably, all of her senses feeling as if she were being wrenched in opposing directions, like a human tug of war. All the while, the pinnacle of completion hovered enticingly within her grasp.

  "Do not come!" Master X reminded her harshly as he wound his fingers into her hair and gave it a vicious, delicious yank, adding yet another layer of pain to her confused, overwhelmed mind. "Not until my next command!"
>
  Grace struggled to obey, but the sensations where beginning to overwhelm her. She fought for control and almost lost it completely when she felt the bright, familiar sting of a pussy flogger thrashing upward onto her pouting labia lips. The tempo was unrelenting, and Grace grunted through tightly gritted teeth as she battled to keep her forbidden orgasm at bay.

  Then, suddenly, she almost felt as if she was airborne. Floating. Her world tipped into the horizontal and she was aware of strong hands gripping tightly around the tops of her thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. She had never felt so thoroughly encompassed in sheer delight.

  And then she was pierced. The warm, blunt tip of a cock plundered her depths in a single, unerring thrust.

  Grace could barely suck in enough oxygen to breathe. The air was driven out of her lungs with the force of that first, relentless plunge, and the sensations which pulled her every which way were preventing her from drawing another.

  She stuttered and wheezed, desperate to draw breath, but no sooner than she had managed it, a single word pierced her fractured consciousness, "Now!" Xavier demanded.

  At that very moment, barely a second after the command had been uttered, her whole world exploded. Everything seemed to happen at once. Unseen hands first yanked brutally at the chain and intensified everything with searing precision before all three of the clamps were removed from her nipples and her clit at the exact same time.

  The blood rushing back into her abused and constricted nubs unleashed a tsunami of pain that flooded her system in a broiling, inundating monsoon.

  At the very same moment, Master X pulled back and then impaled her to the hilt with his thick, generous cock, bottoming out brutally against her cervix while the inexorable cold and expansion of the butt plug had her crammed so full that everything seemed as if it were squeezed into an area half the size that it needed to be to maintain any type of comfort.

  It was all too much for her. The deepest torment and the ultimate pleasure at one and the same time. The orgasm was tangibly dragged from her body as if it was a physical entity which was being wrenched from her very soul, and all Grace could do was scream her completion as it ebbed and peaked over and over until everything around her went black.