by Ivy Nelson
“You doing OK, baby?” he asked.
Carrie gave him a shy smile. “Yeah. Just a little nervous is all. I’m never nervous before I play. I don’t understand it.”
Peter grinned. “This is different for you. Nervous is normal. How wet are you right now?” His question caught her off guard and she stared at him.
He chuckled, a low rumbling sound and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll just check for myself.”
Before she could protest, his fingers had skimmed up her thigh and were now sliding inside of her. The flames of desire she had tamped down came rushing back the instant he grazed her clit, and she closed her eyes, a weak moan bubbling up from her throat.
Just then, the other couple came out of the playroom and Carrie tried to shy away from his fingers. In the blink of an eye, Peter whirled her to face the wall and yanked her skirt up. The cool draft caused by the fluttering of the material caused her to shiver. It was a short-lived shiver though because his hand connected with her ass. “Never pull away from me, young lady.” And then he thrust two fingers inside of her. “Understood?”
His fingers were pumping in and out of her. “Yes, Sir,” she whimpered as she felt an orgasm building. The sensation stopped almost as quick as it had begun, and he straightened the skirt of her dress for her before turning her back around to face him again.
He led her into the now vacant play space and set his bag under the suspension frame. “Strip and kneel, baby,” he said as he pointed to a spot just outside the frame. With trembling hands, she lifted her dress over her head and tossed it in the corner. The dress hadn’t required a bra, so she stood naked as soon as the dress was gone having removed her shoes when she came in the house.
Lowering herself to the ground, she watched Peter as he began to pull things out of his bag. Six bundles of rope piled up next to the wooden leg she kneeled by, followed by a blindfold and several impact toys. She tried to keep her focus on those and not the fact that he was about to take total control of this scene and her body. Her need to be in control of her own fate was nibbling at the edges of her mind but she did her best to shut it out.
They had been having fun together, and he’d promised to take that fun and her pleasure to new heights tonight. Just because she was letting him take the lead didn’t mean she wasn’t still in control. That was the mantra she was repeating to herself when Peter dropped to one knee and grasped her chin.
“You’re stunning this way,’ he said with a heated gaze.
She felt her nipples pucker as she gave him a small smile.
“I know from our conversation that you’ve been suspended a few times. We’re going to do that tonight. You’re going to fly for me,” he said as he settled into a seated position behind her.
He ran his hands from her elbows to her shoulders and back down again before he reached for one of the hanks of rope. It was folded over on itself many times, with the folded end wrapped around the entire bundle to secure it. With a flick of his wrist, the bundle came undone and he was holding a doubled over piece of rope.
To start, he pulled her hands behind her back and looped the rope around her wrists. When her hands were secure, he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her against him as he brought the length of remaining rope around her chest just above her breasts. Checking to make sure the rope was flat, he brought it back around the other way to lay under her breasts which were quickly encased in tight bondage.
The rope flew with quiet whooshing noises as he brought it back and forth across her body. All the while, he never lost contact with her. There was always at least one hand touching her or he would press a kiss to her bare shoulder. When he had tied off the last knot, he helped her to her feet and stood in front of her.
“Nothing hotter than a woman’s breasts in rope,” he said in a husky growl as his thumb grazed one of her nipples. He dropped his head and pulled one of the sensitive nubs into his mouth, sucking hard for a moment before he bent the rest of the way down and picked up another bundle of rope.
Soon, he had a line running from the bundle of knots at her back to the solid metal ring he’d hung from the frame. Her hips and thighs were also wrapped in a harness style tie that would help lift her into the air.
“Ready, baby?” he asked as he secured a second line of rope from her hips to the ring above.
“Yes, Sir,” she said, having grown comfortable here with him.
“Up on your tip toes,” he commanded. Her heels left the ground, and then he began tugging on the lines running through the ring. As the ground fell away from her, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the pressure of the rope digging into her, supporting her, as she floated mere inches from the floor.
Another tug and she was higher. Then he attached rope to her ankles and pulled it through the rope, folding her legs so her feet rested on her bottom.
“How does that feel?”
“Good, Sir,” she answered breathlessly.
“Excellent, now the real fun can begin.” His voice was full of promise, as his hands roamed her body.
“Promises, promises,” Carrie teased.
He was standing between her bound legs pulling them as far apart as the ropes would allow when she spoke. His hand found her clit and pinched until she yelped and then he was in front of her, pulling her head up by her hair so she was looking at him.
“That sounded an awful lot like sass, little one.” His free hand slid into his pocket and he pulled out a clothespin. “Since I’m a nice guy, I’ll give you one more warning but next time, this goes on your tongue.” Then he clipped the wooden peg to his shirt pocket. Evil bastard putting it right where she could see it. She wanted to say just that, but she also didn’t want a clothespin on her tongue, so she refrained and instead said, “Thank you, Sir.”
“Better,” he said with a wink before returning to his previous position behind her. “I’m going to drive you mad and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he said as he spread her legs again. Something cupped her pussy. It wasn’t his hand. Then she felt something enter her. Not quite big enough to be a dildo but big enough that she felt it. Whatever it was, stayed in place when he stepped away from her.
“What is that?” she whispered as her body swayed gently in the ropes.
“It’s a type of butterfly vibrator. Don’t worry, this one hasn’t been used on anyone before.”
Before she could respond, a low buzzing noise began, quickly followed by gentle vibrations against her clit and g-spot. It wasn’t terribly intense but with as worked up as she’d already been throughout the evening, it was enough to bring her near the edge quickly. A whimper escaped her as she closed her eyes and leaned into her ropes hoping the pain of the bindings cutting into her flesh would push the wave of pleasure back away from the cliff. It worked, but then he used a remote and turned it up higher.
“Fuck,” she cried as she willed herself not to orgasm. He was at her side now, and he reached beneath her and pinched a nipple. That was nearly her undoing. “Please,” she whimpered.
As soon as the word left her mouth, the vibrator turned off and he loosened the line from her ankles a bit so her feet came away from her ass.
“I believe I told you not to ask for an orgasm.”
Something connected with her ass. It stung.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said through ragged breaths as the implement fell against her two more times.
When it clattered to the floor, the vibrator turned on high again and she cried out as she silently begged her body not to betray her. Just when she thought she was about to come he stopped the vibrator again. This was repeated several more times until she was a shaking mess of mascara and tears. When he stopped the vibrator for what must have been the seventh time, she yelled, “God fucking damn it. Let me come.”
“Oh dear. That was the wrong thing to say,” Peter said and patted her head. Then he was standing in front of her and she could see the clothespin was in his hand. “Tongue out little one.”
Her mouth stayed shut and she closed her eyes. “Tongue out now or there won’t be any orgasms at all for you tonight.”
Her pussy throbbed against the now still vibrator and she knew she couldn’t take more of this if there was no orgasm in her future. Gingerly, she poked her tongue out of her mouth.
“A little more,” he urged.
When she had it protruding to his liking, he clamped the clothespin in place, and she let out a garbled cry of pain. Within seconds, drool was pouring from her mouth as she tried to keep her tongue still to minimize the sensation of the clothespin biting into her.
Then the vibrator turned back on. When the clothespin had been attached to her tongue, she wasn’t sure if she could get close to an orgasm while it was in place. Now she was certain she definitely could. Her pussy was quivering with the need for release and she wanted to beg him to give it to her.
“Come.” It was a quiet command, but that was all she needed. The orgasm ripped through her like a flash flood and she screamed as much as the clothespin would allow.
Without warning, he removed the offending clamp and her scream grew louder as a second orgasm flowed out of her. Then he was lowering her to the ground, having turned the vibrator off. Her body trembled as he hurried through untying her.
When her body was free of rope, he rubbed her arms and helped her stretch them out again before he turned her to face him and claimed her mouth for a violent kiss. His hands gripped her hair as their mouths crashed together. Soon she tasted blood and she wasn’t sure if it was his or hers.
Peter scooped her up and carried her to the chaise lounge and laid her gently on it. Then he stripped out of his black slacks and boxers and rolled on a condom. “Spread your legs, baby.” Right, this was the second half of his promise to fuck her until she screamed. She stared up at him hungrily as she let her legs fall open. They had been dancing around sex for days now, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her. His latex wrapped cock was pulsing in his hand as he positioned himself to enter her. Judging from the way he was breathing it wouldn’t take him long to finish them both off.
“You can come all you want now, baby,” he said as he pressed the tip of his erection against her swollen entrance.
He braced himself against the back of the leather seat and thrust himself inside her in one swift motion.
She cried out as another orgasm threatened to tear through her. Sliding a hand between their bodies, she grazed her clit with one finger. The sensation was enough to send her flying. She screamed out his name as he plunged into her again. The pace he set was fast and furious and she cried out with each punishing thrust. With a labored growl, Peter’s own orgasm roared through him and she felt his cock throbbing inside of her. When they were both spent, he eased himself off her and crossed the room to his bag. The prepared bastard had a pack of wet wipes so they could clean up. He also brought her a small throw blanket he had tucked away and draped it over her shoulders after helping her sit up. Pulling her close, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head.
“Jesus,” she said after a few minutes of quiet. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”
Peter shook with quiet laughter. “Same,” he said. “You’re incredible baby. Are you OK?” He tugged the blanket away and examined her rope marks. “These won’t last as long as bruises from impact play, but do they satisfy your desire to be marked?”
Carrie grinned and nodded as she traced the rope marks on her wrists. “I’ll have to wear long sleeves if I go to the office tomorrow.”
After a few more minutes of cuddling, Peter said, “We should probably get this space cleaned up so someone else can use it.”
Carrie nodded they quietly got dressed. Then she sat on the chaise lounge after wiping it down with a disinfectant wipe and watched Peter recoil his rope. As he expertly folded one length, he looked at her and said, “If you were to become mine longer term, you would learn to do this for me.”
Carrie gave him a shy smile. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about that yet, but I would be willing to try more of this sort of thing. Maybe more outside the bedroom and the playroom.”
Peter flashed her the grin she loved so much. “Good, because you’re mine until tomorrow at five, remember?”
Carrie nodded. “I remember, Sir.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Peter grumbled as he circled the crowded amusement park parking lot.
Beside him, Carrie bounced in her seat and Peter couldn’t help but grin. Her excitement was infectious. Finally, he spotted an empty space and maneuvered the big SUV into place with ease. Hopping out of the car, he came around and opened her door. Instead of stepping to the side to let her out, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, one hand fisting into her hair. They were still experimenting with their power exchange dynamic, but for now, she wasn’t shying away from his affection or his dominance and he was grateful.
She wrapped both of her slender arms around his neck, so he lifted her out of the car, his hands circling her waist. It took him by surprise when she wrapped her legs around his own waist and kissed him deeply.
“Thanks for coming,” she whispered, her forehead pressed against his.
“It doesn’t take much to make you happy does it?”
She shook her head as he gently set her down on the pavement and laced his fingers with hers.
“Come on. The weather is perfect for this,” she said, tugging on his hand. The SUV chirped to let him know it was locked and he slipped the key in his pocket. Once they were in line, Carrie let go of his hand. Then, she laid her hand on his back and slid it down, squeezing his left ass cheek.
“You should wear jeans more often,” she said wiggling her eyebrows. Peter just shook his head and brushed her hand away, capturing it in his own when it fell to her side.
“Behave,” he whispered in her ear as they approached the ticket counter.
Much to his irritation, Carrie insisted on paying for both tickets, but he had agreed to let her plan this outing, so he stayed silent once she laid her credit card down.
As they entered the park, a staff photographer stopped them. “Smile,” he said holding the camera to his eye. Peter was going to keep walking, but Carrie stopped him and snuggled close with a grin already on her face. Rolling his eyes, he dropped an arm across her shoulders and smiled.
When the photographer moved on, Carrie made a beeline for a frozen lemonade stand, ordering him to wait for her. As he waited, he paced, his eyes examining each of the entrance gates. The lax manner in which the security staff were searching bags and patting people down had him scowling. They could miss so much. In his opinion, it wasn’t safe here. But then Carrie came back with two very large lemonades and the most adorable grin on her face, so he set aside his security brain and accepted the cold drink.
“What do you want to ride first?” she asked between sips.
“You’re in charge of this adventure, baby.”
“Somehow I doubt that, but thanks for pretending anyway,” she said with a wink. Peter chuckled. At least she knew he was only letting her think she was in charge. After the party on Friday night, they had gone home and made love one more time. Saturday was spent much the same way, but he’d made certain she knew he was in control. Until five that evening anyway. Right at five, she had held up the clock on her phone and said, “Now your ass is mine. I hope you don’t get motion sick.”
“Let’s hit Devil Mountain after we drop our stuff in a locker,” Carrie said when she looked up from the park map she’d been perusing.
“Devil Mountain?”
Her head bobbed up and down over her cup and he sighed. “I’m just not going to ask anymore questions. Lead the way, Miss Davenport.”
On the way, they stopped and rented a locker for the day where she insisted they both leave their phones.
Devil Mountain, as it turned out, was a wooden roller coaster. And for a brief mo
ment, Peter regretted making this deal with Carrie. Conjuring up images of her kneeling at his feet got him through the first climb up the mountain. It was fleeting though because at the summit, she jerked his arm upward and yelled for him to get ready. It’s not that he had never been on a roller coaster before, it had just been a very long time. So, when they flew down the first hill, he was fairly certain that his stomach, along with his manliness stayed at the top as he heard himself screaming at the top of his lungs. Beside him, Carrie was giggling. At him. The urge to take her across his knee overwhelmed him and as they began to climb the next mountain, he fisted his hand into her hair and kissed her. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he growled, which only elicited more laughter.
The rest of the morning went much the same way, with Carrie dragging him from one ride to another and Peter fighting to keep his breakfast down. When she tried to put him on a spinning ride, he put his foot down and refused, at which point they took a break for lunch.
Because this was Carrie’s adventure, the meal consisted of mostly fried food, but he managed to order a salad for himself. “I don’t see how you haven’t had a heart attack,” he grumbled as he looked at the greasy baskets in front of him. “I’ve eaten more fried food since I met you than I have in my entire life.”
“It’s good for you,” she said around a mouthful of fried chicken strip.
“I think we have very different definitions of what’s good for you,” he said dryly.
Carrie giggled as she had been doing often today and dunked a fry into some Ketchup.
“Would it kill you to eat a vegetable?” He stabbed a cucumber from his salad with a fork and offered it to her.
Her nose crinkled in disgust. “I don’t like vegetables.”
“Do you not like them, or have you just not had the right ones?” When she continued to look at him with a look of revulsion, he said, “I’m cooking for you this week. I think you’ll find vegetables and non-fried food can be delicious. Even better than whatever the hell this is.” He waved his hand across the array of breaded fare. Though he could see the skepticism on her face, he also noticed that she didn’t say no to the idea of him cooking for her.
