Twist Tied

by Guimond, Heather

  To help calm my nerves, I went to the liquor cabinet in my kitchen. Taking out a bottle of tequila and a shot glass, I poured two quick shots. I knew better than to get drunk and try to do this; after all, I didn’t want to get carried away and hurt Clarisse. I needed to be clear-headed, but I also needed to steady my nerves. After drinking both down quickly, I tightly recapped the bottle and put it back where it belonged.

  I stood there drumming my fingers on the countertop. What would Christian Grey do? The ladies seemed to love him. I’d never read the books, so fuck if I knew what he’d do. I absently wondered if I should Google him.

  Taking a deep breath, I screwed up my courage and walked to the bedroom. When I entered, Clarisse was kneeling just where I told her to, her back to the door, wearing nothing but a black lace thong. I’d love to say she was the picture of serenity, a flower blossoming in submission, but it was nothing like that. She was squirming on her heels, her hands fidgeting at her sides. I don’t think she even heard me enter because I watched in amusement as she adjusted her thong. She looked about as uncomfortable as I felt, but at least it gave me something to work with.

  “Straighten up, and sit still,” I demanded in my best gruff voice.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, instantly adjusting her posture and lowering her head.

  “Put your hands behind your back.”

  She immediately complied, her chest thrusting forward as she arched to clasp her hands tightly behind her. I circled her so I could see her firm breasts proudly displayed for me. I could get used to that sight, but then I was equally pleased when they were hovering over my face while she rode me into oblivion. I shook my head to regain what I hoped was something akin to authority.

  I picked up one of our bags of tricks where it still laid after I’d swept it off the bed. I reached inside and slowly withdrew the riding crop. Her eyes went wide as I tested it lightly against my palm, the leather making a more impressive sound than the actual impact it had on my hand. Delighted at the first sign of her arousal, I casually strolled back over to her and caressed the tongue of the crop against her cheek.

  “Is this what you want, little one?” I asked, calling upon some dialogue from one of my novels. “The sweet bite of leather against your pretty white skin?”

  She nodded eagerly, her head bobbing up and down like one of those dashboard dolls.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Really? What do you say when you want something, Clarisse?”

  “I really want it.”

  I rewarded her screw up with a light slap of the crop against her hip.

  “You really want it, what?”

  “I really want it, Sir,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  I rapped the keeper against her thigh this time.

  “I want to hear the word please.”

  “Oh! Shit! I mean,” she stuttered, flustered. “Please, Sir.”

  “You’ve already gotten a taste, you little vixen. You’re trying to bend the rules to get what you want again, aren’t you? You’re too clever for your own good.” I applauded myself for even noticing her passive-aggressive attempt to appear submissive without actually submitting. At least, I thought that was what she was doing. I decided to just run with it.

  “Stand up and bend over the bed,” I ordered roughly, still feeling awkward as hell. Maybe if I got a little more comfortable physically…

  As Clarisse stood and did as she was told, I kicked off my shoes and removed my shirt. There. I could move easily and the fine sheen of nervous perspiration I hadn’t noticed before quickly evaporated. I moved back to the bag and pulled out the paddle.

  “Now, because you’ve been, uh, impertinent, I’m going to give you another lesson,” I said, faltering slightly. I moved to stand behind her and gave a quick swing of the short, stiff leather. It landed weakly against her behind.

  “Really?” Clarisse blurted out. “That’s your idea of a spanking?”

  “Oh, now you’re a critic, huh?” I said, giving another slap to her ass, this time a little bit harder. She jolted slightly, but I heard her snicker under her breath.

  “Try again, sport,” she challenged me, so I did. I drew back my arm and gave her one firm blast against her cheeks.

  “Motherfucker!” she shouted, reaching back to rub her bottom.

  “Felt that one, didn’t you?” I said, finally unable to contain my laughter.

  Clarisse bolted upright, turned around and grabbed the paddle from my hand. “Take off your pants.”

  “Do what?”

  “You heard me. I’m going to show you how this is done. Drop. Your. Pants.”

  Without thinking, I just did as she said. I popped the button on my jeans, slid down the zipper and jerked the denim down my thighs. Before they even got to my knees, she turned me toward the bed and shoved my shoulder, so I went face first into the mattress.

  “Count ‘em out, big boy,” she said as she fiercely swung the paddle, landing it dead center on my ass cheeks. The fire that spread across the thick flesh burned but in the most pleasant way.

  “Ah! Uh, one?” I stammered hoarsely.

  “That’s right. Keep going,” she called out as she hit me again.

  “Two!”

  “Better. One more time with feeling!” she sang, getting far more into the mood than she should have. Then she gave me a whallup I’d likely remember every time I sat down for the next day.

  “THREE!” I shouted helplessly. How in the world had I lost control of the situation? More importantly, why did I like it so much?

  There I was, near to giggling maniacally from the power surging through my veins as I spanked Wyatt’s ass when he bolted upright and snatched the paddle from my hand, hurling it across the room. At first, I thought he was mad until he caught me by the waist and tossed me onto the bed. He launched himself at me, settling his body over mine, his heavy weight crushing me against the mattress as his eyes burned with lust.

  “Is that how you want to play this?” he growled. “You want to be the top?”

  “I, uh, I’m sorry,” I stuttered though that was the last thing I was. I’d obviously unleashed the beast in him, and now, finally, he was taking charge. I fucking loved it.

  Wyatt tangled his hand tightly in my hair and pulled my head to the side before diving in and kissing my neck, slow sucking kisses I knew would leave marks. With the signing in just a day and a half, I thanked my stars it was winter, and I’d brought a couple turtleneck sweaters. I didn’t want to look like I’d gotten into a fight with a hungry vampire. I also didn’t want Wyatt to stop either.

  He moved to my mouth, his tongue sliding over my lips before pushing its way in forcefully. Ravaging my tongue, he kissed me so hard, I would have choked if I hadn’t been expecting it. I was ready for anything he was going to give though, and I couldn’t wait.

  Finally, he lifted off me and pulled me down the bed so I was bent over the foot of the bed, chest and abdomen pressed flat to the mattress with my butt high in the air. I turned my head and watched him as he went for our goodie bag. He looked at me with a smirk as he slid his hand in and pulled out the leather cuffs.

  “This should fix that bossy little attitude of yours. Roll over and put your hands behind your back.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I rolled onto my stomach, but before I could even move my arms, he was straddling my hips and pulling them back for me. Before I knew it, my wrists were bound in the thick leather, and I heard the click of the clip binding them together. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was excitement, anxiety, or elation—most likely a mixture of all three. I couldn’t help testing the strength of the restraints even though I knew they were up to the task.

  “You can quit struggling,” Wyatt said with a chuckle. “You’re not going anywhere until I say.”

  Without warning, he stood, leaving me feeling more vulnerable than I’d ever imagined I would. There I was, lying prone, my thong-clad behind on full display, subject to whatever whim W
yatt might have. I jolted when I realized he and I had never discussed anal sex. God, I hoped he didn’t go straight for that. I’d never done it and wasn’t sure if I was ready for something like that so soon.

  While I had my mini-freak out, I felt a soft slap on one of my cheeks. He’d picked the riding crop back up and was tapping it all over the soft, round flesh. It wasn’t hard at all, just light little taps.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, perplexed.

  “I’m enjoying watching your ass jiggle,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “You know, I think there are better ways to take advantage of this opportunity,” I drawled.

  “Always in such a hurry,” he said, punctuating the observation with a quick snap of the leather tongue on the other cheek. I felt that one. “Will you shut your mouth for once and let me do this my way, or am I going to have to invest in a gag the next time we go shopping?”

  “I guess it all depends on how well you handle me this time,” I said tartly. I was goading him, I knew it, but I just couldn’t help myself. I loved seeing this side of Wyatt, and I wanted to keep feeding into the mood.

  I was rewarded with a slap of his palm, much harder than any riding crop could do. I shouted out in surprise at the sharp bite of pain that was starting to spread over my behind. It burned and tingled at the same time.

  “Well, would you look at that,” Wyatt said calmly like he had nothing else to do all day. If I could have struggled my way off the bed, I would have gotten up and kicked his shin. This lollygagging wasn’t acceptable, not now that we’d finally entered the territory I wanted to explore. Unfortunately, I was helpless. It didn’t seem quite as fun as I’d expected it to be.

  “Look at what?” I sighed, resigning myself to the fact we were going to be there a while.

  “Your butt is the prettiest shade of pink. I think I need to take a picture,” he said as I felt him move away.

  “You aren’t seriously going to take a picture of my ass, are you?” I asked incredulously as I heard him cross the room.

  “You bet I am,” he chuckled, enjoying the hell out of my predicament. “Now sit still. You’re wiggling too much.”

  I struggled harder just to make a point. I didn’t mind him taking a picture, I actually wanted to see it too. It’s wasn’t like I could get up and walk to the mirror to inspect the job he’d done. I didn’t have any concerns about him spreading it over social media or posting it on some kinky website thankfully. I felt another harsh slap to my ass, the other cheek this time.

  “I told you to sit still. Jesus, Clarisse. I should have bought that spreader bar you were eyeing. I didn’t realize you’d be quite so… non-compliant.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to put the heavy lifting in, Wyatt,” I replied coolly, wondering if he’d let my use of his name slide by.

  Thwack! I guessed not.

  “What did you call me?” he hissed, but it almost sounded like he was choking.

  “After what I said, you have a problem with the fact I didn’t call you Sir?”

  “I’ve realized it’s going to take a lot of heavy lifting to get you to curb that sassy mouth of yours. The least you can do is address me formally, don’t you think?”

  I couldn’t help myself, I giggled. This wasn’t going anywhere near what I’d imagined when I thought about being Wyatt’s submissive. I wondered just what the fuck we were doing because this wasn’t the dark and kinky stuff I fantasized about. This was more like comic improv than anything else.

  “Fine, Sir,” I replied tartly as I settled down and let him take a few snaps of me. I heard him toss his phone onto the bed beside me, then the warmth of his hands as he slid his fingertips under the straps of my thong.

  “Lift up,” he whispered softly. Without even thinking about it, I raised my hips so he could pull the lacy fabric from me. He slowly pulled them off my hips and down my legs before kicking my feet apart with his foot.

  “Now, that is a sight to see. More pretty, pink flesh, only this time, it’s glistening like a pearl. I wonder what it tastes like?” he mused before sliding a fingertip over the slick skin at my core. I laid there entranced, at last feeling the mood shift to something else, something deeper, more intense.

  He leaned down next to me, so his face was right next to mine, and I watched, my lips parted softly, as he slid his finger into his mouth and sucked. His eyes were focused on mine as he slowly withdrew the digit before sliding it into my own mouth. I swirled my tongue over the length of it, tasting the slight tang of my own arousal remaining on his skin until he pulled it free from my lips.

  “There. Now you’ll understand why I’m going to indulge myself in the sweet scent and flavor of your body. I’m going to feast on you like it’s Thanksgiving, and guess what? You get to just lie here. Don’t move, don’t call out, and whatever happens, Clarisse, you cannot come. Understood?”

  I opened my mouth to object that was some kind of bullshit right there, but the look in his eyes was so fierce and determined, I snapped my jaw shut and just nodded as best I could with my cheek pressed to the mattress.

  “Good girl,” he said, rewarding me for my acquiescence. My tummy flipped a little at the rough sound of his voice.

  He moved behind me and spread my thighs further apart. I heard him hum in appreciation as he focused on my throbbing center, blowing lightly on it. I tried hard not squirm. I was eager to feel the wet slide of his tongue against my heated skin, but it was too much. I’d never been a patient person—he already knew that. My hips wiggled as his breath grew warmer the closer he got to me. I felt a sharp slap on my still smarting ass.

  “I told you not to move. I mean it, Clarisse. Stay still.”

  “Yes… Sir.” I said breathlessly, scrunching my eyes closed and praying for the strength to keep my promise. I wanted to urge him, to tell him to get on with the show, but I bit down on my tongue. I had to at least try to be submissive since I’d been telling myself all this time that was what I wanted.

  Finally, I felt the long, thick lick of his tongue against my clit. He slid all the way up to my core, then leisurely repeated it. My knees started to buckle, and I feared he’d get angry because I’d already disobeyed once. I steeled my legs, locking them into place, my teeth snaring the blanket beneath my face as I bit down on it. If I’d trembled a little, he either permitted it or was just too busy to notice. I was hoping it was the latter.

  He spread my lips further apart, nearly burying his face inside me. He became a hungry wolf, licking and sucking every fleshy bit into his mouth. I stifled a moan, pretending to cough when a tiny whimper slipped out. I felt a half-hearted slap against my hip, but it was nothing more than a clumsy reminder I should remain quiet. Maybe he was too into what he was doing to punish me.

  When he slipped his tongue inside me, pumping it in and out, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I began to tremble when I felt his fingers softly strum my swollen clit, a fine sheen of perspiration coating the back of my neck. I felt myself wind tighter and tighter, my muscles tensing and quivering as his ministrations grew more pronounced, heavier and harder than before. I could faintly hear his hungry humming as he ate me, and I truly mean ate. I’d be lucky if I even had a pussy after he was done. The next thing I knew, I felt the pressure of his thumb against my asshole. I gasped right before he pushed through the tight ring of muscle. I shouted out, mindless to his instructions. It was too much but everything I needed—all at once. Unfortunately, that kind of pleasure was about to trip that first domino, threatening the rest to come crashing down in rapid succession.

  He quickly replaced his thumb with a long finger and pumped it swiftly in and out. I was hanging on for dear life, tears leaking from my eyes from the strain of holding back. I didn’t want to, was even kind of pissed I wasn’t supposed to. As headstrong as I could be, I was also stubborn. I was not going to come. I chanted the words in my head over and over again, determined to win this challenge.

  Just
when I thought I had it in the bag, Wyatt dipped his head and sucked my clit hard into his mouth. I screamed as I completely fell apart. Fuck whatever punishment he had next. I threw myself completely into my orgasm, thrashing as much as I could under the heavy weight of his arm as he pulled back and spanked me again and again. I didn’t know if he was trying to halt my explosion, but if he was, it had the opposite effect. I soared higher than I ever had before, shooting for the stars. White lights danced before my eyes as I screamed out my pleasure, riding wave after wave of crashing sensations.

  When I finally spiraled back down, gasping and struggling to catch my breath, I heard Wyatt chuckling to himself. He was clearly proud of making me break. I felt confused—this wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. I was supposed to have held out, followed his instructions, then felt on edge and overheated, uncomfortable in my skin the rest of the day. That’s how things always went in the books even in his own. Why did he seem so smug?

  The sense of accomplishment I felt as Clarisse unraveled made my chest puff with pride. She’d fought hard to maintain her composure. Buried in her pussy like I had been, I felt every quiver, every clench, every spasm as she tried to hold off. She’d put up one hell of a fight, I’d give her that. I knew I should punish her for disobeying again, but all I could muster was the satisfaction of knowing I’d broken her resolve. She was a tigress, and truth be told, I didn’t really want to tame her, not in the way I thought she was supposed to. I didn’t want to turn her into a docile bunny rabbit who hopped to do my bidding at the snap of my fingers. I wanted her to fight me. I wanted to manhandle her, to manipulate her with pleasure rather than mind games or orders. I’d never planned to edge her and leave her wanting more. I’d let her believe I did, but I’d also set a challenge for myself. I meant to take her to the precipice until she was hanging on by her fingernails, then enjoy prying them free to watch her fall to the depths of pleasure waiting for her. Was that so wrong?