by Erika Masten
***
I’d plunged myself into work that week, which wasn’t too hard with my new client. Leslie had been inquisitive at first and then disappointed with the lack of certain details she deemed crucial. We’d finally had time for lunch later in the week.
“At least you can tell me about the non-bondage sex, can’t you?” We were back at the Italian deli, this time sharing a stromboli. Leslie was practically drooling; I wasn’t sure if it was over the spicy food or the anticipation of some juicy details about Jake.
“Well, yeah. I suppose.” I chewed for a minute. What the hell. I really do want to talk about Jake.
I gave her the details, leaving out the bit about the sex being my reward for being a good girl. It was fun indulging in girl talk with Leslie. And it gave me a thrill to remember all the details of my time with Jake.
Leslie was looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
“What?” I frowned at her. “Why the look?”
“You. You’re different with this guy. Normally you’d have spilled the details about the sex and then gone off on a riff about how much in love you were with him. But you have not said the word ‘love’ once. Not once.”
I sat back. She was right. Whatever I felt for Jake at this point, and I did feel quite a bit, love wasn’t part of it. I respected him; I liked him a lot, and I certainly was attracted to him. And I thought I trusted him a great deal. But my usual obsessive version of love was absent. That’s good, right?
Leslie was watching me closely. “Abby, are you happy with this…thing, this relationship? Really happy?”
I looked at her. And then I nodded. “Yeah, Leslie. I am. Really.” And I realized that was a far better feeling than my usual obsessive love.
***
Saturday had seemed so far away on Monday night, but it finally arrived. Jake had said I would be in submissive mode the entire time, from when I arrived at the tower room until he said I was not. I was to call him Master, not speak unless spoken to and not to indulge in, as he called it while explaining my behavior in our first session, ‘topping from the bottom’.
In other words, no outbursts, stay in the session and use the safe word if I needed to.
I parked in what I considered my spot now, beneath the portico, at three o’clock. Jake met me at the bottom of the tower stairs, shirtless and barefoot, wearing the gray sweats. I felt a thud deep inside; seeing him like this brought back memories of our last session.
“Abby.” He kissed me deeply, pulling me against him for a moment. “I’ve missed you.”
He led me by the hand up the stairs to the tower room door, which stood open.
“Come in for a minute. I want to talk about this session and make sure you’re comfortable with where I want to go with this.”
Jake took me to the bed, motioning for me to sit down. It was stripped down to just the black sheet, stretched taut across the mattress. The lush linens and pillows from our last encounter were gone, as were the candles. With a shock, I realized I’d had that image in my mind, but the romantic atmosphere was gone. This was Jake and me, dominant and submissive. Something clicked over in my mind. I really hadn’t been in submissive mode until now.
“I want to try nipple clamps with you tonight. Nipple play; heightened sensory awareness.”
For some reason the clinical description irritated me. I knew Jake needed to control these encounters and for him, that meant the textbook description of whatever he was going to do with or to me. I swallowed, letting it go. Starting off on the wrong submissive foot here, girl.
“Are you okay with this? You can stop it at any time.”
He was holding something in his hand, two clamps with some black rubber attached by a silver chain. They looked wicked but intriguing all at the same time.
I took the clamps, experimentally attaching one to my little finger. It pinched, but not hard. Jake took the other end, holding my hand, turning it palm up, holding the clamp above the webbing between my thumb and index finger.
“They’re adjustable. We can start with the lightest pressure, like this…” The clamp came down on the sensitive skin of my hand. I jumped, more from surprise than pain. Jake looked up at me.
“Okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it just surprised me. They’re fine.” I wiggled my hand, the weight of the chain and other hook pulling on my hand. I looked up at him. “I’d like to try them.”
Jake smiled. “Okay. You can go change and I’ll get set up. When you come into the session, hang your robe on the hook on the door and then stand, your hands in front of you, eyes lowered, and wait for my instructions.” He stood, pulling me up off the bed, kissing me quickly.
“And it’s Master when you return.” With surprising force, he swatted my backside as I left the room.
In the bathroom, I took off my clothes, this time just a shirt and jeans, no bra or panties. I slipped into my robe, pulled my hair back and secured it before padding down the hall to the tower room.
Jake was waiting, the clamps in one hand and something black in the other. I wanted to ask, but remembered I was now in total submissive role. I hung up the robe, stood with my hands in front of me. I dropped my eyes, but I would not lower my head. He hadn’t said I needed to do that.
“I have a collar for you, Abby. Something to help you remember your role. And remember too that there is punishment for disobedience. I will spank you if you disobey. Do you understand?”
I looked up at him. “Yes, Master.” He smiled.
“Good. Come here.” I walked across the room, very much aware of the feel of the rug beneath my bare feet, the gentle breeze from one of the open windows. The curtains were pulled, but it had been an unseasonably warm day and Jake must have opened a window earlier. It surprised me to think he spent time here when we didn’t have a session. What exactly would he do here alone?
But then all thoughts left my mind as I stood in front of Jake. He held out a wide black leather collar with a large silver ring in the center.
“Kneel, Abby.”
I did, and he moved behind me, bring the collar around my neck, fastening it behind me. It was heavier than it looked, the weight settling against my skin. Jake moved back in front of me, standing just a foot or so away.
I was a submissive, kneeling in front of this man, wearing a collar. A week or so ago, I’d have been horrified at the thought. Now, it didn’t seem all that terrible. There was a tiny nagging voice, way back in my mind, that still protested. But a louder voice—and my body—welcomed this.
Jake was watching me and I realized I was staring at his crotch. There was no visible erection, just a sense of weight and mass. And then I realized Jake had spoken.
“Abby?”
My eyes snapped up to his. What’s the submissive way to say ‘huh’?
“I’m sorry, Master. Could you repeat the question?”
“I asked you if the collar was too tight.” There was a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth. I wasn’t sure if he was amused by my gaff, irritated because I disobeyed or just enjoying my discomfort.
“No, Master. The collar is fine.”
“Good. Stand up.” I did. The collar was actually quite annoying, wide enough to rub against my neck, heavy enough not to ignore, which I figured was its purpose.
Jake had picked up something from a silver bowl on a nearby table. I saw it was an ice cube and since we were dealing with ‘heightened sensitivity’ and my nipples, I knew exactly where that ice cube was going to go.
I tensed, jerking away, like a skittish horse. There was a sharp intake of breath; Jake stopped, the dripping ice cube held in his hand. My eyes flew to his face, my hand to my mouth. Oh, shit.
“I’m sorry, Jake….I, just…it’s…well, cold…” I gestured vaguely in the direction of the melting ice cube held forgotten in his hand. There was more; I felt vulnerable, standing naked in this room, aware of how imperfect my body was, suddenly feeling out of my depth. I wanted the lights out, or the blind
fold back on. If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.
But there was no way to explain all that to Jake, not now, not unless I wanted to stop the whole session. And I didn’t want that.
“Abby. You are disobeying me at the moment. You can stop talking.” He turned, tossing the ice cube back with the rest. I heard it clink against the edge of the bowl. He wiped his hand on his sweat pants.
“Come with me.”
I followed Jake to the other end of the room, away from the bed. There was a small table and chair set against one wall. I’d never paid attention to this end of the room, couldn’t even say if this furniture had been here before.
“You’ll receive your punishment here.”
I shook my head, not so much in protestation of receiving punishment but in resignation…in recognition that I had disobeyed. I did lower my head now, in disappointment and something like shame. I wasn’t Jake’s good girl at the moment and that actually hurt.
“Look at me, Abby.”
I lifted my head, meeting his eyes. I was crying, tears running down my face.
“I’ll spank you ten times, with my hand, on your bare ass. You don’t need to count the strokes; I’ll do that. But you do need to think about why I’m doing this and what you can learn from it.”
Jake had me bend over the table. It took all my courage to crouch there, waiting for Jake, for my punishment. All the insecurities that I had about my weight came bubbling to the surface as I pictured myself from Jake’s point of view, in this most awkward and unattractive of positions.
The first stinging slap across my skin made me jump, a sharp cry escaping my lips. I started counting in my head. The second slap hurt more, and then I was distracted by Jake’s voice.
“You’re being punished for avoiding me, avoiding what I wanted to do. Do you understand that, Abby?”
I didn’t think he’d speak; it was disconcerting to hear his voice, feel his hand on my flesh and be expected to reply. I swallowed hard.
“Yes, Master. I understand.”
His hand struck me again. My ass was burning, the sting of this slap adding to the heat of the first two…or three?
“You’re being punished for speaking when not spoken to. Do you understand that?”
Slap. “Yes, Master. I understand.”
“Apologize, Abby.” His hand struck me again.
“I am sorry, Master, for disobeying you.”
The rest of the slaps melded into one searing sensation of heat across my ass. And then he was done, moving away from me. I was breathing hard, no longer crying.
“Your punishment is done and it’s in the past. I won’t bring it up again. If you have questions, you can ask me now. Or we can talk later. You may stand up.”
Jake was standing a few feet away. I looked up at him, not sure what to expect, anger maybe. But his eyes held pain, as if he’d been struck himself.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, Master.” I held his gaze. He took a deep breath, as if coming to a decision.
“We can continue with the session or we can stop. I’ll leave that decision up to you, Abby. You may speak freely now.”
He stood motionless, no hint of expression on his face, save the pain in his eyes. I had no way of knowing if he wanted to continue or not; his body gave nothing away. I took a deep breath, surprising myself with my answer.
“I want to continue.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “You’re sure? Don’t do this because you think it may be what I want. Your enjoyment of this is just as important as mine, your comfort and safety are the most important thing to me. I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to do. I hope you know that.”
I nodded. “I’m fine. I disobeyed; I received my punishment. But I still want the session.” I was amazed at my clarity. I truly wanted to experience whatever Jake had planned for me.
“Alright.” He took a step toward me. “It won’t be a very long session, Abby. You’re back under silence again. Do you understand?”
“No, Master.”
“What do you have questions about, Abby?” He watched me intently.
“Silence as in no sound, or just no speaking?”
He smiled. “You can make any sounds you like, including any expletives. Just no talking to me or…” he moved closer “…no expletives directed at me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
We walked back to the other end of the room. He had me stand where I had been earlier, picking up an ice cube and walking toward me.
I held still, watching, as he stopped in front of me. I could feel the heat from his body, smell that rich scent that belonged only to him. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I opened them, he was looking down at me.
The ice on my nipple was colder than I could have imagined. I sucked breath through my teeth, but did not cry out…or speak. I looked down, watching in amazement as the nipple contracted, the sensation of pain—but not quite pain—intense but not unbearable. There was a simultaneous thump deep in my body, centered somewhere south of my navel.
Jake applied the ice cube to the other nipple. I was expecting the sensation this time but it still took my breath away. When he stepped back, both nipples were hard, harder than I’d ever experienced, sticking out from my breasts. He bent down, sucking one nipple into his mouth. I cried out then, the heat of his tongue flicking against the icy nipple an exquisite torture. He moved to the other, sucking hard, pulling the nipple into his mouth. I arched against his mouth, longing to hold his head against my breasts, clenching my hands at my sides.
After tormenting me with his tongue, Jake lifted his head, his breath catching in his throat. With infinite care, he threaded one end of the nipple clamp chain through the ring on my collar, letting the ends dangle against my breasts. He reached for one, looking up at me briefly.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Master.” My voice was a whisper, my body suddenly thrumming with excitement. Jake looked at me for a moment, hesitating slightly. But whatever he saw on my face, in my eyes, made him smile; that dark smile that drove a spike of pleasure through my body.
Jake pinched my nipple along with some of the areola behind it with his fingers, attaching the clamp. I cried out; the pressure was intense, the sensations coursing through my body amazing. He quickly attached the other clamp. He stood back, breathing hard, looking down at his handiwork.
I looked down as well at both nipples held by the clamps. The chain through my collar put enough pressure, pulled them just enough, to increase the electricity throbbing through my body. I knew that I was very wet; there had been an instant flush of heat through my pussy with a corresponding rush of wet warmth.
Jake reached out, grabbing me by the hips, pulling me toward him, pressing my body gently against his. My nipples rubbed against his chest, sending waves of feelings through my body. I cried out, my chain making a soft noise as it slipped through the ring on my collar.
He leaned back slightly, the only contact now at our hips, the heat of his erection against my naked skin, made all the more erotic by the thin covering of fabric. He rubbed himself against me for a moment, his eyes half closed as he watched my breasts swaying, the nipples protruding, watched his cock brushing against my skin.
“Come with me.” Jake took me to the bed, instructing me to climb up on my hands and knees. He stripped his sweat pants down his legs, his hard cock rising from the apex of his thighs.
He got on the bed behind me, holding my hips in his hands. My ass was still stinging from my spanking and I imagined how red my skin must be, what Jake was seeing. The uncomfortable feeling of being exposed rose up again and I struggled to fight it down.
The weight of the chain tugged at my nipples, increasing the waves of pleasure coursing through my body. And then there was Jake, rubbing his cock against my ass, sliding it over my heated skin. There was a deep clenching inside me, something dark and primal on the verge of breaking loose.
But he didn’t enter me. He held himself pressed against me, gently rocking me back and forth. The chain began swinging back and forth, faster as Jake increased his movement.
Suddenly Jake grabbed my hair, tugging my head back. The chain pulled tight against the clamps; my cry was equal parts pain and pleasure. He held me there, suspended in that space for a long moment. He released my hair and my head dropped forward, the tension against my nipples reduced. I gasped for breath, mouth open, eyes closed.
I felt Jake reach one hand down, sliding against the fullness of my breast. He unclamped the nipple clamp, reaching down to the other, releasing it as well.
There was a moment of confusion in my brain; there was a brief suspension of time where there was no sensation in my nipples at all. I thought something was wrong.
But then there was a flood of something else, a wave of prickly heat, sudden and intense. I cried out loudly, almost a scream.
In that instant, Jake thrust into me. And in the next instant I came, my body convulsing beneath him, my hips taking on a life of their own, bucking and twisting. My nipples were throbbing, sending jolts of electricity through my body, straight to every nerve ending in my pussy. And Jake’s cock was there, thrusting back against every part of me that was aroused, his body rubbing against the tender skin of my ass.
There seemed to be no end to this. I was dimly aware of Jake’s noises behind me but I had no conscious thoughts about him at all, other than the sensations his cock was producing in my body. There was heat and a flood of something very wet and then I was lying on the bed, breathing heavily. Jake was next to me, cradling my body against his, brushing damp hair from my forehead.
I opened my eyes, focusing on his face. He traced a line down my face, over my shoulder, down my arm, raising a line of goose bumps. His forearm brushed against my nipple and I cried out softly, pulling away. And then I cringed. Had I disobeyed again?
He leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “You’re okay, Abby. The session’s ended. You’re out of your role now.”
“Oh.” I was weak, my body and mind moving in slow motion.
