by Erika Masten
The castle image flashed in my mind again. “I think the tower is better than a dungeon. It sounds a little less damp and dreary, more like princesses and knights in shining armor.”
I heard Jake exhale on the other end of the line. “I want you to come tomorrow for a session.” His voice had changed, had that edge to it; Jake the dominant had taken over the conversation.
“You’ll need to wear clothes that are easy to remove. Nothing fancy. Please be showered, your hair tied back. Eat something before the session. I don’t want you to get hungry if this runs long and I don’t want you to feel faint or weak.”
I closed my eyes. Feel faint? What the heck?
“I know this seems like a set of rules, but I want you to be comfortable and safe. I have no idea where this is going to go. This may sound like over-kill, but I’d rather this be well thought out ahead of time.”
I nodded my head. “I understand. It’s just…well, so clinical.”
There was a beat of silence. “Abby, I need things to be like this…we need things to be like this. Trust me.”
Now it was my turn to be silent. “You’re right. It’s fine. It’s new for me, for both of us.”
“Yes, it is.” His voice softened. “It’s all new, Abby. But you’re the one I want to explore this with, and I want to be the one to help you explore your limits. I still think we’re going to be good for each other. We just need to go slow, keep talking and relax.”
I smiled. “I know. It’s all good.”
We ended the call. I sat down on the couch, going over our conversation, images of last night rising up in my mind; Jake’s hands on my body, the first glimpse of his cock as he’d unbuttoned his jeans, displaying himself for me.
I was getting all hot and bothered, remembering every detail. This is no good.
I settled back, looking out the windows on the skyline of Houston. Something poked me in the thigh. Reaching down, I fished a book out of the couch; 50 Shades.
“I really need to put you on a bookshelf, you know?” The book didn’t reply, but my cat did, jumping up, seeking attention. I scratched his head, thinking about castles and princesses in distress and knights in shining armor coming to the rescue.
But in this case, I had the nagging sense I wasn’t the one needing rescue.
***
“We’ll need a safe word. You know what a safe word is?”
We were in the tower room, now transformed into Jake’s version of a session room. There was a large bed at one end of the room, set away from one wall, a lovely Jacobean monstrosity, carved and ancient looking, currently sporting a fitted black sheet, but no pillows. There was a large cabinet, which matched the bed, set between two windows, which matched the bed. The heavy deep garnet-colored curtains were pulled shut. The room was lit by fixtures set between the windows, along with some indirect lighting in the ceiling. The overall effect really was of a tower room in a castle. And it’s the only room so far that’s actually square.
True to his word, this whole event was removed from his “other” life. I’d been instructed to park beneath the portico again, but today Jake had greeted me from the other side of the drive, through a large door set beneath the tower room. He’d taken me up a narrow stair to a separate entrance from the big door we’d used on Friday. He pointed out a small bathroom I could use, complete with a robe I could wear.
I nodded my head. “Yes. If I feel uncomfortable or…unsafe, I say that word. I don’t say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or anything else. I say whatever word we’ve decided on.” My mind kept getting hung up on the word unsafe.
He smiled. “Yes. The word is usually something totally unrelated to anything we’re doing, so there’s no confusion. Your safe word is ‘pineapple’.
Despite the seriousness of his tone, I giggled. Jake lifted an eyebrow at me.
“It’s a good safe word. I’m allergic to pineapple.”
He smiled. “Okay. Just remember it.” The smile faded and he grew serious.
“Are you ready to start, Abby? From this point on, you don’t ask questions. We…I don’t stop, unless you use the safe word.” His eyes locked with mine. “Do you understand?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
With a detached sense of calm, I began following Jake’s directions. I’d arrived in jeans and a t-shirt, for a time feeling woefully underdress for a date. But this isn’t a date, remember that.
In the bathroom, I removed my shirt and bra, sliding my jeans off, hanging them on hooks in the bathroom. I’d left my panties at home, after a long debate, finally deciding they’d just be something I’d probably lose. I slipped into the robe, feeling an odd sort of comfort in the familiar garment.
Jake was dressed in just a pair of loose gray cotton sweats, again hanging low on his narrow hips, clearly outlining the taut curves of his ass. Those sweats left little to the imagination and I wondered how I was supposed to go through a session of any kind, knowing what he possessed, having it covered by only a thin layer of cotton.
Jake had his back to me when I came back to the tower room.
“You can hang the robe on the back of the door,” he said over his shoulder. I slid the robe off my body, hanging it on a hook.
He was standing at the cabinet, the doors now open, the only sounds the soft clink of something metal, the whisper of his bare feet over the rugs. I stood silently, waiting for his next direction.
He turned, saw me, and drew in a sharp breath. His eyes flicked over my body, then traveled up to meet mine. For an instant, that look I’d come to recognize as lust was there, unguarded and intense. It made my heart thump and my skin flush, set off a low jolt deep inside me.
And there was something else, that unreadable look I’d seen before, fleeting, something he fought hard now to get under control. In that brief instant, I got a glimpse somewhere deep inside Jake, an instant of naked, vulnerable emotion; a scary emotion. It was something almost like love. You’re projecting, girl. Back it up here.
But then he was walking toward me, a pair of silver handcuffs in his hands, long silver chains brushing against his long legs, his eyes hooded, the look gone.
He stopped in front of me. I could smell his scent; clean skin and beneath that, something rich and masculine.
“Come with me.” He walked to the bed, snapping the cuffs to the posts at the foot of the bed, the chains coiled like silver snakes.
“On your back, please.”
I climbed up on the bed. The mattress was on the hard side, but not uncomfortable, the sheet stretched taut, soft and silky on my skin. Must be high thread count. I mentally shook my head at the errant thought.
Jake held up one cuff, the metal catching the light. “One cuff is attached to each corner of the bed. The other end will be attached to your ankles. Your wrists will be held together above your head by a single set of cuffs.” He pulled one cuff toward my foot, the silver chain spiraling out across the sheet, whispers of sound as the links clicked together.
“You will have enough chain to bend your knees a little, but that’s all.”
The cold metal snapped around my left ankle. I flinched. Jake raised his eyes to mine, an unspoken question there. I nodded my head.
“I’m fine.” My heart was fluttering in an unexpected, but not totally unwelcomed, way. I licked my lips. “Go ahead.”
Jake attached the other cuff to my right ankle, had me lay flat on my back and gently raise my arms over my head, fastening the cold metal around each wrist. Somewhere behind me I heard the sound of chain sliding against metal and then my arms were pulled above my head.
I gave an experimental tug against the restraints at my head; I was held fast. My ankle restraints gave me enough freedom to pull my knees up slightly. There was a moment of breathless panic, complete and total; I was alone, naked and chained to a bed in a stranger’s house.
Jake came back into my field of vision, and the panic faded. He stood by the side of the bed, looking down in a rather detached way, I tho
ught. I turned my head; my eyes sliding down his smooth naked chest, past his taut navel, lower still. I saw that not all of him was viewing this in such a dispassionate manner.
There was an unmistakable, and quite arousing, bulge at the apex of his thighs, his growing erection pushing easily against the thin material of his sweats, lifting the fabric out in front of his body. I wondered how I was going to handle whatever he was going to do to me while watching his physical reactions. Just seeing his cloth-covered erection had started a tingle in my body; tingle wasn’t the right word. It was an all-out throbbing between my legs.
Jake looked down at me, a hint of smile playing about the corners of his mouth, almost cruel looking. As if reading my mind, he pulled a piece of black silk out of his pocket.
“Lift your head.”
I raised my head from the mattress and with infinite care Jake blindfolded me. I felt his fingers brush my temples as my world went dark. I sensed his body over mine, his heat and scent very close for a moment. There was a brief tug and the blindfold was snugged over my eyes.
“Is that too tight?” His voice was low, not as close as I wanted it to be.
There was a dry clicking in my throat when I tried to talk, so I shook my head.
“Again, safe word?”
“Pineapple.” I managed to croak out the word.
“Good. I’m ready to start.
Time seemed to spin out forever as I lay there, briefly interested in the lights behind my eyes. But my ears quickly became attuned to every sound in the room. It was very quiet, almost too quiet. The panic tried to push its way back; logic said I had not heard the door open or close, so Jake was still in the room. Was he watching me? Was he getting ready to do something?
My breath was coming in short gasps, my heart beating fast. I was on the verge of calling his name when I felt movement and a soft rush of cool air against my skin, sliding down my right side. I turned my head, breathing deeply, sniffing the air, trying to catch Jake’s scent.
There was a brief noise at the foot of the bed and then a subtle pressure on the mattress. The pressure increased; Jake must have climbed on the bed between my feet. My legs tensed; I tried to pull away and move toward him at the same time. I wanted something to happen but I was afraid of what that something might be.
Suddenly there was a light touch along the inside of my inner thigh, along the same area that Jake had touched with his hands before, that same erogenous zone I never knew existed until then. I jerked even though the touch was so soft I thought I might have imagined it. But it returned, this time on the other leg, something brushing against my skin, sending shivers through my body.
It’s a feather. I had the insane urge to call out what I thought it was.
The stroking continued, increasing in intensity and speed, moving higher up my thighs. The muscles in my legs were tensing and relaxing, moving in concert with the stroking of the feather, my hips flexing upward with each stroke. I could feel arousal growing between my legs, a subtle throbbing deep inside.
Suddenly the stroking stopped. My legs kept moving for a moment, seeking contact with something I couldn’t see. There was a long pause, then movement, a shifting of weight between my legs and the right side of the mattress depressed slightly.
A slight breeze floated over my skin and then there were quick flicks of something across the nipple of one breast. I yelped in surprise as I felt that nipple contract and harden, immediately sensitive. The flicking then moved to the other nipple, with the same result. I could feel Jake’s warm breath on my arms as he moved between my breasts for several minutes, teasing each nipple repeatedly.
And then it stopped.
I held my breath, waiting, trying to imagine where he’d touch me again. I felt warmth on my breasts and then Jake’s lips were on my nipple, the flick of the feather replaced by the flick of his warm tongue. I cried out, lifting my head from the mattress, straining against my chains as he circled my hard nipple with his tongue.
He moved to the other nipple and I felt a wave of warmth flood through me, a curious feeling of tensing up and letting go at the same time.
This particular delicious torture went on for many minutes as he moved between my nipples, never doing more than flicking his tongue across them. I was pulling against my chains now in earnest, arching my back, seeking more contact with his mouth.
And then he was gone.
I cried out in despair, my body thrumming, suspended, aching for more. The cool air on my wet nipples made them contract painfully and I was helpless to keep quiet, driven by desire to speak.
“Please don’t stop. Jake, please…”
I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath, but I couldn’t be sure. It was a long time before I felt any movement on the bed, just a subtle shifting of weight.
When the feather finally came back it moved across my upper thighs, lightly stroking from hip to hip. It circled down between my legs, brushing the crease along my inner thigh, sliding dangerously close to my clit and then skittering away. It reappeared where it started, repeating this path, over and over.
My hips were writhing on the bed now, rising up, playing tag with the feather. It circled back between my legs once again, but this time it stayed, tracing the outer edges of my pussy, flicking over my clit.
I was moaning now, my body craving more contact. The feather continued for a moment, flicking back and forth, tickling and teasing.
And then even that was gone.
The shifting between my legs was more pronounced now. I felt Jake’s warm breath on my legs and the first flick of his tongue against my clit sent a shudder coursing through my body. Finally, oh, god…finally.
He played his tongue in lazy circles over my clit before sliding it down my pussy, tracing the edges, working back up to circle around my clit again.
My body was building to its peak and I was rising on a current of sensations, spiraling upward, my hips pumping rhythmically as Jake did his magic with his tongue. I was crying out, pulling against my chains, poised on the edge of release.
And then he was gone.
“No!” There was no shifting of weight on the bed this time, just a steady exhalation of warm breath against my inner thigh. In frustration I twisted on the bed, willing myself to let go. But I couldn’t. My body was aching for release but I had no way of achieving it.
The room was quiet for a long time. I knew where Jake was but there was nothing I could do, except beg.
“Please, Jake…”
He was back, his tongue probing now, insistent, flattened against my clit, lapping at me before moving lower, working between the folds of my pussy, sliding inside me. Almost instantly I was twisting on the bed, pulling against my chains, moaning like a wanton creature beneath the onslaught of his tongue and mouth.
Because now, besides licking me, Jake had begun sucking my clit, pulling it into his mouth, tugging it briefly before releasing it.
I was hanging over the edge cliff again, relief and release so close I could taste them when Jake pulled away with a harsh noise, almost as painful sounding as my cry.
“Damn you!” I pulled against my chains in vain. “Fuck you, Jake. Stop doing this!”
There was silence and no movement from Jake for a long time. I was breathing hard, my head lifted from the mattress, tugging at my wrist chain, making it clank against something metal behind me.
Between my legs I finally heard noises, the soft sound of cloth moving and harsh breathing. Then there was weight on the mattress near my head and Jake’s warmth was against my body. I felt his legs push against my inner thighs and I suddenly knew where he was, what he was going to do.
And then he was there, his body pressed against mine, his cock sliding up the inside of my thigh. With one hard thrust he entered me, hard enough to push me up the bed until the chains on my ankles stopped me.
Our cries mingled then, his a long desperate moan, mine a cry of triumph. I was powerless to move beneath him, praying he wouldn’t take
this chance of release away from me.
But I knew once he began thrusting into me that there was no turning back for him. He buried his head against my shoulder, each thrust accompanied by that same sound, a combination of need and desire.
There was no gentle building of arousal, no infinite time spent on a plateau of pleasure, only primal fucking. With no other physical outlet for what I felt, I bit down on Jake’s shoulder. I expected him to cry out or pull away, but he didn’t. He only said one word:
“Again.”
And I bit again, tasting blood on my tongue.
With a strangled cry, Jake bucked hard into me, grinding his body against mine. It was the contact my body sought and I cried out, pulling hard against my wrist restraints, my body contracting in the center. The orgasm that swept through me seemed to go on for whole minutes. I shuddered and twisted beneath his weight, crying out, tears streaming down my face.
Jake had held himself still inside me, either allowing me to finally experience my release or trying to hold back his. I really didn’t care at that point. But as my body began to relax, he began to thrust hard, with those same quick jabs, erratic and sharp. I felt the peculiar sensation of his cock growing even harder as he reached his orgasm.
And then he was coming, his body completely overtaken by his release. He wrapped his arms around my body, not so much in passion, but I think to keep hold of something solid.
After a long time his body stopped shaking, his muscles relaxing. I felt his cock growing soft, but he stayed inside me, kept his arms around me, his face buried in my neck.
“Jake?” He was quiet.
“Pineapple?”
He lifted his head from my shoulder, unwrapped one arm from my body. I felt his fingers pulling the blindfold up over my face. He tossed it off the side of the bed.
I blinked, even though the light in the room was dim. Jake pulled away from me, sitting up and groping for his sweat pants, which were in a heap at the end of the bed. He fished in the pocket, finding a small silver key.
He undid the cuffs at my wrists and then unlocked my ankles. I sat up, looking at Jake as he sat on the edge of the bed. He turned to me.
