by Roz Lee
She came, drenching his tongue with her juices. He lapped it up like a dying man in the desert. Her knees buckled, and he slid his arms around her hips and supported her as he rose to his feet.
“God, you are beautiful,” he breathed against her neck. His tongue swept across the very spot the bastard had kissed the night before. Richard branded her with his mouth, spreading her scent to her nape. His. Forever.
“I have something for you. Keep your hands on the glass. I have to get it from the counter. Can you stand on your own?”
“Yes, Richard.”
His own knees threatened to buckle as he crossed the room to retrieve the velvet pouch. “Today, everyone will see you are mine.” He took the wrist shackles from the pouch and snapped the first one over her right wrist, smoothing the rope along her arm and fastening it on the small ring on the side of her collar. “Are you mine?”
“Yes, Richard.”
He repeated the process with her left wrist. “Tell me.”
“I’m yours, Richard.”
“Good girl.” The ankle shackles came next. He took his time winding the ropes into a criss-cross pattern over her calves and thighs, where they fastened to the rope at her waist. Her skin was like a healing balm, he’d never be truly well without it. He refused to think about what he would do if she refused him today. He drew the final piece from the pouch. “One last piece.” He moved away long enough to get a tube of lubricant from the welcome basket on the counter. “Has anyone ever had your ass?”
She hesitated, one telling breath. “No, Richard.”
He hooked the rope to the back of the collar, and smoothed it along her spine, past her shoulder blades, past the dip at the small of her back, and over her raised ass cheeks. “I’ll try to be gentle then.” He squirted a generous glob of lube on his finger and touched it to her anus.
She sucked in a harsh breath at either his touch, or the cold lube, or both.
“You have a safe word. Do you want to use it?”
Another heartbeat, then she answered, “No, Richard.”
“Then let’s proceed.” He squirted more gel onto his finger and began the torturously slow process of massaging her tight sphincter muscles.
“Relax, Fallon. Breathe.” He worked his finger into her tight hole, added more lube, and with patience that was driving him slowly insane, inserted a second finger.
“Almost there,” he soothed. More lube and another finger joined the other two. “You’re tight, sweetheart. Relax. Let me in.” His free hand slid from her rounded ass, along her curved back, to her shoulder. He kneaded her tense muscles there while the fingers of his other hand massaged and stretched her anus.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Am I hurting you?”
“No,” he pushed in a little further and she stiffened. “Richard,” she breathed out his name. “It feels,” he twisted his fingers inside her, “good.”
His hand trailed along the rope delineating her spine and closed around the gold butt plug on the end. He rubbed it against her crack, coating it in lube. “That’s good. I’m going to remove my fingers now. Don’t tense up. Just relax. I’m going to replace my fingers with something else. It should insert easily now, but tell me it hurts.”
“Yes, Richard.”
He slid his fingers out, and in one smooth motion, inserted the butt plug. She moaned and her head dropped between her shoulders. Richard pressed his palm over the head of the plug, willing the warmth of his hand to sooth her. He couldn’t take his eyes off the thin gold rope snaking down her back to her ass.
“How does that feel?” His voice sounded dark and dangerous, even to his own ears.
“It feels, good, I think. It doesn’t hurt.”
“That’s good. Stand there for a minute, don’t move.” Both hands went to her shoulders and eased the tension there before spreading their warmth along her back to her ass. He spread her cheeks gently and bent to kiss each one where they would lie against the plug.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you are like this. If you behave, I’ll let you see yourself in the mirror.”
“Please, Richard.”
“Not yet. Stay there.” He grabbed her sarong from the floor and wrapped it around her hips. The bottom hem fell just below her knees. He gauged a more appropriate length and ripped the fabric, leaving her with nothing more than a loincloth.
“Turn around now.”
She complied.
“How does the plug feel now?”
“It feels good. I’ve taught people how to drive their partner crazy with anal massage, but I’ve never tried it myself. It makes me want more.”
Sharp pain shot through his engorged cock. If he didn’t get her to the point soon, he was going to risk permanent damage to his cock. “Good.” He couldn’t promise her anything more, not yet anyway. He hooked the leash on the collar’s front ring and handed her the end. “Hold this.” He wrapped both her hands around the rope. “Don’t move.”
The only things missing from the ensemble were the nipple clamps and the clit jewelry. She would wear it all today. He found the clit adornment on her night stand and flipped up the sarong. The sight of her clit, still swollen from her orgasm, made his cock swell further. He adjusted the clip and slid it over her jewel. He flicked his tongue over the pearl and her throbbing flesh.
“Lovely,” he commented. “Doing okay?” he asked.
“Yes, Richard.”
“Good. One last detail.” He held the nipple clamps up, opening and closing them, tantalizing her with the pleasure-pain to come. “Do you want them?”
“Yes, Richard.”
He dipped his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth. His teeth closed over the already stiff bud. He released her, clamping the ruby nipple. She cried out as the clamp closed over her sensitive skin. “Okay?”
“Yes, Richard.”
He repeated the process with the other breast and stood back to admire his creation. “I have to see you.” With a flick of his wrist, the shortened sarong came loose. He’d seen the entire ensemble on the mannequin, had imagined what it would look like. Nothing he’d imagined came close to Fallon adorned with his ropes. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
“May I see, Richard?”
Her voice, soft and submissive, brought him back. He took the leash from her fisted hands and tugged her to the mirror. He stood behind her, watching her expression as her hands traced over the new ropes. He wanted to follow every line with his tongue, vowed to do it, later.
“May I see the back?”
He nodded his head and she turned, looking over her shoulder to see the single thin rope draped along her spine, disappearing between her butt cheeks. She turned her eyes to his. “Will you hold me open so I can see the plug?” He almost swallowed his tongue. Her always-confident face looked uncertain. “Please?”
“Sure.” He pressed against her and reached around to part her ass cheeks. She craned her head around to see.
“Oh, God! I don’t know what to say, Richard.” Her eyes turned back to his and he flicked a finger over the knob. Her eyes dilated and she went limp against him. “That feels so good. It makes me. . . I don’t know. . . weak? I need you, Richard. Make love to me.”
God willing, he would, today. “Have you forgotten your punishment?”
“No, Richard, I haven’t forgotten.”
He wrapped the sarong around her hips again and tugged on the leash. “Let’s go, then.”
“Like this?” she protested, pulling him up short as he came to the end of the leash.
“Yes, like that. I told you, everyone will know you’re mine today. Do you have a problem with that?”
She hesitated a breath, two, then shook her head. “No, Richard. No problem.”
He gave the leash another gentle tug and she followed him out the door.
He calmly wrapped the sarong around his waist and hopped off the table. Praise for her prowess dripped from his lips. He lifted her to the table as if she weighed no more than
a feather. It was her turn. I yearned to send her packing and take her place. Instead, I guided her feet into the stirrups and eased her hips to the edge. It took every ounce of professional restraint to help him adjust the height of the stool so his mouth met her just right.
From the file labeled, 'Subject M5, Richard Wolfe'
Chapter Ten
Fallon had seen many women paraded on the end of a leash through the common areas. She just never thought she would be one of them. In the past, she’d imagined the humiliation the other women must have felt, some of them fully clothed and others in various stages of nakedness.
As Richard led her down the hallway, across the crowded central lobby, and into the elevator, she realized she’d been wrong about the humiliation. Sure, she was a little uncomfortable being exposed, but her overriding emotion as she followed Richard through the gawking passengers and crew, wasn’t humiliation. Far from it. If she had to name it, she would call it pride.
She was proud to be Richard’s woman. Proud he wanted to claim her in such a public way. In truth, there wasn’t much of her exposed. Between the nipple clamps and the short sarong, all the private parts were covered, but the ropes made a statement no one could misunderstand. At least no one else would bother her for the rest of this cruise, a small price to pay for the dinner she’d done without last night. Now if Richard would just put an end to her aching need to be truly his.
The elevator was nearly full when Richard thrust his arm between the closing doors and tugged her in. A hush fell over the car as the passengers took in the scene. Half-naked women on the end of a leash weren’t particularly unusual on the Lothario, but it didn’t take an expert to see the quality and exquisite detail of the rope ensemble. Fallon’s skin heated under the close scrutiny.
Richard didn’t notice, or he didn’t care. His eyes never left the digital deck readout. The elevator descended one stingy deck at a time, each one punctuated by a man’s sexy voice announcing the deck by name. He would choose one of the elevators that he’d recorded the announcements for. With his hot body pressed up against her in the close confines, she felt each word vibrate through her as if he spoke them just for her.
At each stop, a few passengers stepped off, forcing Fallon to move aside for them. As they approached the last deck the passenger elevators went to, she began to suspect some of the car’s occupants weren’t going to get off until she and Richard did. When his recorded voice announced, “Atlantis Deck, Private Rooms by Reservation Only,” and Richard tugged her out and down the hall, the rest of the car’s occupants followed them like puppies after a hot dog vendor.
Richard stopped outside the last door and produced a key card. He turned a scowling face to the assembled crowd and they scurried back toward the elevator. “Private means private,” he mumbled.
She followed him into the room and stopped short. Soft music played, wafting across the darkened room like a whisper. Dozens of tiny electric candles provided the only illumination. The candles were arranged in a circle around a St. Andrew’s Cross situated in the center of the room.
“Are you frightened?” Richard asked.
“No. You won’t hurt me.”
“No, I won’t. Stand in front of the cross.” He unhooked the leash and she moved to the cross and turned so her back was to the velvet-covered pad in the center. Richard followed, removed her sarong, and stood back. Even in the dim light, she could see his heated gaze, and she trembled under its force.
“If you use your safe word, I will stop.”
She shook her head. No, she wanted this. Whatever Richard was willing to give, she wanted. “No. Is this part of my punishment?”
“You’ll have to decide.” He closed the distance between them and took her left hand in his. He turned it over and placed a kiss on her palm before he lifted her hand to the raised arm of the cross and anchored her shackled wrist to the bar. His lips traced a line from her wrist to her shoulder. He repeated the process with her right hand. Fallon tried to remember to breathe as his mouth traced down her arm, to her shoulder, and continued past her throbbing nipples, over her abdomen, stopped at her clit for a prolonged kiss, then continued down her right leg.
“Spread your legs.” His hands parted her thighs, slid along the rope lines to her ankle. A soft metallic rasp announced her ankle being shackled to the cross. Both his hands trailed up her leg, followed by his lips. Once again, his mouth paused on her clit, teasing, tasting, before he moved on to her other leg, slowly and methodically driving her insane. At last, his mouth made its way back to her shoulder. “Okay?”
“Yes, Richard,” she forced the admission from lungs devoid of oxygen.
“I’m going to blindfold you. It will help you concentrate on what’s important.” Her eyes followed his movement to the table off to the side. In the shadows, she could see several items on the table, but she couldn’t tell what they were. He returned with a black satin blindfold and tied it around her eyes.
“Don’t be alarmed. I’m going to tilt the cross back so you’re lying down.”
In complete darkness, the soft whir of the electric motor, accompanied by the cross tilting backward made her dizzy. It came to a stop when she was fully horizontal and she sucked in air.
“Remember, you can use your safe word anytime. You may scream, say anything you want, as loud as you want. No one will hear you in this room, so there is no need for a gag.”
She nodded her head, and regretted it the same instant, as a wave of dizziness washed over her again.
“Relax, Fallon. There is only me. I would never hurt you. Lie there a few minutes and try to relax. Let the music soothe you.”
She tried, she really did, but over the soft music, she could hear him moving around the room. She tried to identify the sounds, guess at what preparations he was making. Time stretched out. How long was she there, alone, waiting for his touch, his voice in the darkness? She tried counting to sixty, over and over again, but a new sound in the dark would distract her and she’d lose count. Minutes, ten, twenty, more?
“Richard?”
“I’m here, Fallon.”
His voice sounded distant, but it warmed her to hear it, like a warm summer breeze in the night.
“I’m going to ask you to do something. No matter what I do to you, I don’t want you to come until I tell you to.”
How could she not come? His voice wrapping her in summer warmth almost made her come.
“Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll try, Richard.”
“That’s a good girl. If you feel like you’re going to come before I tell you to, use your safe word.”
“Yes, Richard.”
She felt the air shift as he moved closer.
“Let’s begin, then.” One nipple clamp came off and she cried out as blood rushed to the pinched skin. Richard’s mouth closed over the abused bud, his tongue stroked, soothed. Her hips rose off the pad, only to be pressed back by a large hand. His fingers stroked her skin between the ropes. She needed to clamp her legs together, needed the pressure to stave off an orgasm.
“No. Fight it off, sweetheart.” His hand stroked and aroused, even as his voice eased her. Her breath came hard and irregular.
“That’s it. It will get easier as you learn how to control it.”
She doubted it, but he tested her again, removing the other nipple clamp and sucking the throbbing flesh into his mouth. Another moment and she would go over the edge and Richard had yet to command it.
“Stop!” The single syllable was like a gunshot in the quiet room. His mouth left her breast, replaced by his heated hand, the other on her stomach, still stroking, soothing. She took a figurative step back from the edge. “I want. I need. . . . ”
“Yes, I know, sweetheart. Soon.” His words soothed, and she clung to his promise. He leaned close to her face and she matched her breathing to the soft rhythm of his breath dusting across her cheek. “That’s good. You’re in control, sweetheart. Breathe through it.”
He wrapped one bare foot in his big hands and massaged. His thumbs made broad strokes over her instep, applied pressure to the ball of her foot, to the heel. The change of pace worked, she melted in a pool of relaxed goo. Her entire being focused down to the pinpoints of pressure on the bottom of her foot. His fingers slipped between her toes, and desire spiked anew, softer this time, but enough to have her wanting again. She let the music in again, let the smooth melodies simmer and mellow in her bloodstream. Her head rolled to the side and sigh escaped her lips, as she succumbed to the decadent massage.
* * * * *
Richard smoothed his hand over the top of her foot, around to the instep and across her heel. The shackle around her ankle prevented him from lifting her foot too high, but he could slip his fingers to the back of her heel, reach under the shackle to soothe the tension in her ankle. His eyes were trained on her face. Every now and then they slipped to her clit, and the pearl clip he’d placed on it, and then back to her face. The blindfold hid her eyes, but he could tell much by the lines of her mouth. Finally, the moment he’d been waiting for. Her head rolled to the side and her lips parted on an almost silent sigh.
He moved quickly, quietly. Bending over her, he clamped his mouth over her big toe and sucked as hard as he could. She jerked against the restraints. Her clit twitched. Would she stop him again? He rolled his tongue around her toe and his cock throbbed at her gasp. He couldn’t wait to sink into her pussy. He knew the sounds she’d make when she came around him, knew the way her body would feel around his cock as he exploded inside her. Her hips bucked and he released her toe seconds before she even knew she was on the verge of orgasm.
