Master of the Abyss

by Cherise Sinclair

  “Well.” All those strands of a whip hitting her bare skin. Fear. Heat. She licked her lips. “I-I don’t know. I didn’t know I’d like being spanked until…”

  He palmed her breast again, caressing her gently. A reward, she realized, when he said, “I appreciate your honesty. Anal sex?”

  “I’ve never done it.” She flushed at the thought of him touching…taking her there.

  “But not a no.” He lifted her off his legs. “Good enough for tonight. What’s your safe word?”

  “Barney.”

  “Perfect.”

  She glanced around. The others had selected their spots. Heather stood by a tree. The chains hanging from a branch connected to her wrist cuffs and kept her arms over her head. Evelyn was restrained across a log.

  “Time for a student break.” Jake rose. “Kneel here with your eyes down.”

  She started to kneel, halted at his frown.

  “What do you say?”

  Oops. “Yes, Sir.”

  He nodded, then strode across the clearing, stopping to pick up a blanket from beside the fire. He showed Steve how to check Heather’s circulation. He stopped a short distance from Andrew, waited until the man noticed, and handed him the blanket to put between the rough bark and Evelyn. That was nice. Jake glanced toward Kallie, and his brows drew together.

  Oh hell, caught. She winced and dropped her eyes.

  His footsteps crunched back to her, and boots entered her field of vision. “Stand up and strip.” His voice was soft. Cold. Her stomach clutched at the wash of fear.

  She pulled off her shirt. She’d heard him tell the other men to have their wives undress and savor them. Touch them. Jake wasn’t doing any touching or savoring. She risked a glance up under her eyelashes. His eyes matched his voice, and his jaw was like stone. After a moment’s hesitation—being totally naked was so much worse than being topless—she unlaced her boots and pushed them off. She removed her belt and knife, then her jeans and panties.

  “Bend over and grab your legs.”

  No way. Not going to do that. She stared at him.

  His face didn’t change. As she stared up at him, the confident power in his eyes made her resolve evaporate like water under a hot sun. She closed her eyes to block him out, then leaned down, curling her fingers around her ankles. See, nice and flexible, does that count?

  He moved closer until his thighs rubbed against her hip. He set a hand in the middle of her back. And then he slapped her bare bottom. Whap!

  “Ow!” The abrupt pain, even though she’d kind of known what he intended, was too much, and she started to stand.

  “Don’t move, sub.” He pushed her back down. “I expect obedience.” Whap.

  She gritted her teeth. Mouthing off or giving insults right now would be suicidally stupid. What happened to a warm-up? This hurt!

  “If I don’t get obedience, I’ll be disappointed”— whap—“and you’ll be sore.” Whap.

  He wasn’t pulling his blows much, and her bottom burned like he’d dumped acid over her skin. Fucking A. Her hands tightened on her ankles as she prepared for the next blow. He’d not get any whimpering or crying from her.

  He stepped away. “Kneel.”

  Her body had been so tense in preparation for pain that it took a second to move. She slowly lowered herself to her knees. The dirt and pine needles prickled her bare legs. As she sat back and her bottom met her heels, she winced at the bite of pain.

  “Apologize.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake.” Actually she did feel sorry. She’d gone into this with open eyes and didn’t mean to cheat by disobeying. But the fact that he hadn’t let her and wouldn’t let her satisfied something inside her…as if a hunger had niggled at her without her realizing it. “Really, I am.”

  “That will do.” His voice had returned to a rough croon that sent shivers down her spine. Grasping her by the upper arms, he raised her to her feet and pulled her to him.

  It felt…strange…to be naked and held by a fully clothed man. Disconcerting. Vulnerable. His big hand pressed her face against his chest, and he rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “You’re forgiven, sugar. I know you’ll do better next time.”

  If a man had said that to her somewhere else, she’d have shoved his words back in his face. But here, being naked…aroused…in Jake’s arms, she only wanted, really wanted, to please him, to hear the approval in his voice and see it in his eyes.

  “Jake?”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “It drives me crazy when my cousins boss me around. Why—how can I like it when you do?”

  “Ah. It’s normal to want to make your own decisions in life most of the time. But a submissive finds handing those choices to a dominant—one she trusts—to be freeing, especially in a sexual context. There’s no thinking, no trying to figure out what I want, no ability to hold back or fake your response, or to choose words that are tactful.” She could actually feel the power radiating from him, hear it in his uncompromising voice. “Because I will tell you exactly what I want, and you will have no choice except to respond, and no choice except to give me the utter truth.”

  She shivered, and a corner of his firm mouth tipped up.

  He stood for a minute, holding her and watching his students. “They’re doing well.” He smiled at her. “Let’s go play.” After picking up his bag, he wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close as they walked across the clearing toward his tent. The fabric of his flannel sleeve felt soft against her skin, belying the iron-hard arm beneath.

  “Don’t I get to choose?” she asked, eyeing an odd arrangement of straps crisscrossing a log.

  “Nope.”

  Well, that wasn’t fair. She frowned at him and caught the flash of his grin.

  “This place is more private. You’ll like it.”

  Private sounded good. Anticipation rippled across her skin as he grabbed a blanket out of his tent and led her to the far side of the clearing, where the trees partially enclosed a small area. The glow from the firelight diminished, but the quarter moon floated high in the western sky, the light angling above the treetops.

  He snapped the blanket open and onto the ground, then pointed. “You belong there, little sub.”

  Her heart gave a thud. A cool breeze from off the still white-clad mountains brought the scent of pine and wood smoke, and Jake’s wonderful fragrance of soap and man. She dropped to her knees. Was she supposed to kneel or lie down? She worried, then remembered it didn’t matter. Jake would tell her; she didn’t have to think about what to do…at all. The decisions weren’t hers to make. She hadn’t noticed the knot in her stomach until it disappeared.

  He stripped off his shirt and knelt beside her on the blanket. In a smooth move, he wrapped his arms around her and tipped them both over, putting himself on top. She grazed her fingertips across the contoured muscles of his shoulders as he leaned down for a long, hungry kiss.

  He tasted of the hot chocolate they’d been drinking, and took his time, teasing her lips, plunging deeply inside.

  When he pulled back, she sighed. Chocolate. Camping. Sex. What more did a girl need? And it definitely looked like the sex would be great.

  Setting his hands on each side of her face, he asked, “What put that smile on your face?”

  “Uh.” What the hell. “I was thinking that you taste like chocolate, and there can’t be anything better than sex and chocolate.”

  His rumbling laugh made her grin. He brushed his thumb against her lips. “Under all that bluster and men’s clothing, you are such a girl.”

  If one of her cousins had said that, she’d have punched him. But from Jake… A warm glow lit inside her.

  “But considering the way you dress, I should probably check and make sure.” He nuzzled her temple, her cheek. When he kissed the sensitive area under her ear, she got goose bumps.

  Jake grazed his tongue over the hollow of the sprite’s collarbone, tasting her skin, putting a firm hold on his need to t
aste her more deeply, to move straight to the most delicate, fragrant places. But leisurely exploration had other rewards. A kiss between her breasts, and she arched a little. Sensitive breasts—the memory of her response to his touch had given him several sleepless nights. This night would be sleepless also. He smiled—he would take his time tormenting them both. He brushed his jaw against the gentle curve of her right breast. The day’s growth of his heavy beard scraped, and she inhaled sharply. Slowly he drew his chin across her breast, up and over the puckered peak. Her fingers dug into his arms.

  He did the other breast, back and forth, until her fingernails embedded in his skin. Then he closed his lips around one swollen peak.

  She gasped.

  Damn but she was sweet. Her nipple had a velvety texture, the tiny tip just a little rough when he stroked his tongue over it. He licked the other nipple, then left it wet, chilling in the evening breeze. He sucked the other, hard and strong. Her back arched, and she cried out, a beautiful sound in the quiet night.

  He lifted his head to gaze down at her, and her eyes had that dazed look he loved. More. He did the same to her other breast and felt her tremble under him. She could offer him still more. He cupped her small breasts, pressing them upward, then carefully closed his teeth on one tip and heard her suck in a breath and give a husky moan.

  He licked the burn from the pink crest. Bit the other gently. Another moan. Welcome to another type of carnal pain, sprite. He grinned as she tried to push him away with one hand, to pull him closer with the other.

  Her attempts to move him reminded him of their location. He took her wrists in one hand, raised them above her head, and found the Velcro cuffs that he’d tied to a tree with a few feet of rope. Quick and simple bondage. He had her wrists secured before she caught on and tried to pull her arms down. Her eyes widened, and he could feel her arousal increase.

  Sitting back, he slid her down on the blanket until the ropes turned taut, pulling her arms almost straight. He ran his finger under the cuffs to check the fit, and then straddled her curvy thighs and enjoyed the sight before him.

  Her skin gleamed white in the moonlight, her jutting nipples still wet from his mouth. Her lips were swollen, and he pleased himself with another kiss.

  He knew she’d liked the sensation of being restrained at the lodge, but outdoors bondage added another layer of helplessness. Especially the way he intended to do it. He located the thigh cuff lying in the pine needles and wrapped it snugly above her left knee. He did the same on the right. When he finished, her legs were still straight, only slightly bent, and she looked at him in puzzlement as if to say, What’s the point?

  He started to adjust the ropes.

  He watched her body tense as the shortened rope pulled her left leg upward and outward. When he started on her other leg, her thigh muscles flexed, subconsciously resisting as she registered how exposed a position he intended.

  He finished, and she lay open to him with the moonlight shining straight down on her glistening pussy.

  “Now that’s pretty,” he murmured, smiling at the excited, vulnerable look in her eyes. Sex in the lodge, with the music and noise and people, tended to be intense and fast, whereas out in the forest, surrounded by trees growing at their own pace, the soft sounds of the pines sloughing in the breeze, distant coyotes barking along a moonlit trail, a groan from the others by the dying fire… Out here a man was encouraged to take his time. To sample and savor and learn everything about the sweet little sub in front of him.

  His finger along the delicate crease between her thigh and pussy made her tremble. He ruffled the soft curls on her mound—maybe he’d shave them off next time—and slid his finger along her folds, spreading them open. Her eyes shut, and her face darkened with a flush. Embarrassed. Adorable.

  Not that her modesty would stop him. On the contrary.

  Moonlight showed that her clit was slightly swollen but still tucked inside its hood. He smiled and touched a finger to the soft, soft tissue. She moaned, and her hips wiggled.

  “Yes, you’re definitely a girl.” How long would it take before her little nub engorged and pushed out of its cover? It reminded him of trying to tame a feral dog. It took patience. Several approaches might be needed. Push too forcefully and it would retreat back into hiding. Coax gently, reward often, keep the touch light.

  Occasionally back off entirely.

  He’d stopped. What was he doing? Kallie opened her eyes. He lay down between her legs, resting his weight on his forearms. His head was over… Oh God. The touch of his tongue right on her clit sent a jolt of pure electricity sizzling down her nerves, the sensation too, too much after all the waiting. Her cry broke through the clear air, and humiliated, she tried to muffle the next one.

  He chuckled. “I enjoy hearing you, sugar. Please continue.” He closed his mouth around her clit and sucked…once, twice…and she moaned as everything inside her clamped down. He drove her straight up toward an orgasm—and stopped.

  “You taste like honey,” he murmured. “Vanilla-scented honey.”

  “Please,” she whispered, the ache overwhelming her tongue.

  “‘Please.’ Please I want something inside me, please?” he questioned.

  Oh, yes. She really did. “Um-hmm. Yes, Sir.” She wiggled—tried to wiggle. Difficult when her legs were lashed open.

  “All right.” He bunched the blanket under her hips, raising her bottom slightly, and ran his hands over the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing increased as she thought of his cock pushing into her.

  Only he pulled his bag over instead. Oh, condom. How amazing that he could remember these things.

  Cold liquid drizzled down between her buttocks. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “You requested something inside, remember?” His deep voice held a note of amusement. That something pushed against her anus.

  “No!”

  “You weren’t sure about anal, so I’ll let you try this little plug, and you can tell me if you like it.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  He snorted. “Afterward, sugar. You tell me afterward.” The first smooth part pressed her open. But it got bigger, burning as it stretched her opening, and then, thank God, smaller again. His fingers nudged between her cheeks as he moved it around. “All in, sprite.”

  God, what a feeling. Fullness and a quiet stinging and strange sensations, as if new nerves had been created. Her excitement had cooled with the surprise, but now as he knelt between her legs and watched her reaction, it shimmered through her like a heat wave.

  “You are so very beautiful, Kallie.” He ran his hands, so hard and confident, up and down her body. “I’m going to have fun playing with you tonight.”

  More? Weren’t they getting close to being done?

  He took something else from the bag and held it up. Long and slim with an almost flattened end. He took another kiss and then firmly pressed her labia apart. The thing slid up inside her pussy, which seemed overly occupied considering the toy was so slim…only she had something in her butt, didn’t she?

  The full feeling was wonderful—and a little disturbing. Two things in her. She couldn’t move…couldn’t remove them or do…anything. Her breathing increased, and the corners of Jake’s eyes crinkled. But he asked, almost politely, “Doing okay, sprite?”

  He knew the answer; she could tell from the crease in his cheek and the laughter in his eyes. She wanted to wiggle, to be touched, to moan—not to have a fucking conversation. “You know the damned answer,” she forced out, sounding as if she’d just hiked up Half Dome.

  He pinched her nipple in reprimand, and her pussy clenched and made the stuffed feeling more…more.

  The moan escaped.

  “When I ask a question, I require an answer,” he said patiently, the steel edge of command only half-hidden. “Yes, I might know already. The point is, you need to be able to tell me.” He tilted his head, waiting for his answer.

  “I’m fine. Great. Wonderful.” She bit
her lip, tried to wiggle, and things moved inside her. “Do something, da—” She bit back the curse. “Please, Sir.”

  “Something like this?” His gaze stayed on her face, studying her as he touched her, as his fingers circled her breasts, then her nipples. The sensations blazed through her like lightning strikes in dry grass.

  Answer him. “More? Please. Sir.” And may God strike you dead if you keep this up.

  He snorted a laugh. Then he slid down until his shoulders rubbed the insides of her thighs. His breath wafted over her mound, and she tensed. He stroked up her thighs too, too slowly, and finally reached the apex of her legs. When he traced his clever fingers over her labia, she inhaled sharply. He chuckled. “You’re swollen and peeking out. Ready to play.” A fingertip brushed her clit, just enough to make her gasp again.