Coming Together With Pride

by Alessia Brio, J Buchanan, Lisabet Sarai

  He knelt before her again. Cynthia ventured a look into those eyes. He slightly smiled.

  "You can look at me right now. At some point, I will instruct you to keep you eyes down or closed.” He unbuttoned the white blouse and traced his fingers along the lines of her lacy bra. He was being deliberately gentle but then changed his tactics and cupped her breasts firmly to give them a hard squeeze. He kept talking, keeping her attention on him, not what he was doing.

  "You may call me ‘Sir.’ Ask questions at any time. Other than that, I would prefer that you speak only when I ask you to respond.” Once her shirt was off, he wound a thick, black rope around her thin wrists. His gaze was dancing back and forth between his work, her breasts, and her face. “And then, I want to answer me in clear explicit terms. Do you understand these instructions, Red?"

  His voice was stern, but there was a sparkle of delight in those blue eyes. It told her very clearly he was more than pleased to have her there. The realization that he would allow her to see that look in his eyes as they played made her shiver again.

  This was it. The moment of no return.

  Yes, she had her safe word, but the experience was now real and not a fantasy. She had allowed him to bind her hands and remove her shirt. She was exposed and vulnerable and completely at his command, and her pussy was soaking wet in complete contrast to her bone-dry throat. She had to swallow more than once to get enough moisture there to speak. “Yes, Sir."

  "Good girl.” He kissed her again, on the forehead. “Come with me.” He helped her stand, and paused before moving to give her knees a chance to gain purchase after they'd been bent and holding her weight for so long. Then he turned and guided her to the bedroom.

  As she followed, she realized they were bypassing the bed, and then they passed the armoire that held the TV and the dresser, and he nodded for her to enter the bathroom. The marble tile was gleaming white, with dark streaks of grey that brought a very masculine look to the room. The shower was huge and could easily accommodate three or four. One wall was a complete mirror; the other hid the john.

  Her legs were unsteady again when he stopped her, but not from kneeling. On the wall, next to the shower was a hook, hung a foot above her eye level. Perfect for your robe—or your bound submissive.

  He turned her to face the marble wall, across the room from the mirrored sink area. Either direction she looked, they were both reflected back. He lifted her hands and slowly wound the remaining length of rope to secure it to the hook. The action lifted her arms above her head but didn't stretch them uncomfortably.

  Without speaking, he ran his hands down along the length of her arms, making her close her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his gentle touch on either side of her body. Those fingers trailed along her sides and wrapped around her waist to meet over her navel. His chest came up and pressed against hers, his feet between her high heels.

  Cynthia opened her eyes as he leaned away from her body and began to unzip her skirt. It fell to the floor, and he tapped the inside of her thigh to indicate her to lift that leg, then the other. He removed the skirt, taking the time to pick it up and fold it before laying it the counter. His every move was meticulous, thought out; no unnecessary energy was used. She leaned into the wall, bracing for what would come next, holding her breath.

  He turned to face her. “Look at yourself in the mirror."

  She glanced up and back to his feet as she felt the blush rising in her skin.

  He moved closer and tilted her head. “Look at how beautiful you are right this minute."

  Cynthia looked at herself in the mirror as he ran his hand down her fully arched back. Her breasts were pushed forward by the position. Her stomach looked slimmer than usual from her arms being held above her head. The slightly spread position of her legs and garter belt showed off the curve of her hip and the fullness of her ass. She had to admit she looked pretty good.

  His hand lifted off her ass, where it had settled while she was admiring herself, and landed with a sting. The shock rocked her forward into the wall. Before she could regain her composure and settle from the initial shock of the first spank she had ever received, he brought his palm down on her other cheek with even greater force. It stung, it was embarrassing, and it sent waves of sensation over every inch of skin.

  Four, maybe five more times he repeated the stinging spanking. Cynthia rocked onto her toes to try to absorb the blows. Her body was overwhelmed with sensation before he stopped. And when he stopped, he rubbed her tender flesh and kissed her shoulder. “Close your eyes now, Kitten. Keep them closed until I tell you differently. Do you understand?"

  She nodded in response. He slapped her ass again with a sharp crisp uplift to the movement, bringing off her toes. “When I ask you a question you need to give me a verbal answer. I need to know what you feel. Nodding and moaning are not acceptable replies. Now, do you understand?"

  His voice was firm, deep and rumbled through her just as the spanking had. “Yes, Sir. I understand."

  She gasped as his hand slid between her burning cheeks, and his knowing fingers probed her pussy for the first time. He spread her lips and pushed a thick finger into her, fucking her gently. “Good girl,” he murmured as he pulled his finger out and stepped away, leaving her warm flesh to feel the coolness of the room around her.

  In his absence, her senses searched to replace the riot of input that was now missing. She heard the slight echo of traffic outside the hotel. One of her stockings was a bit twisted and the slight tug on the garter belt felt like a lover's stoke. Her senses were singing and her body was on fire. She needed to come so badly—and he'd left her to think about it all. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, swaying her ass at the empty room in invitation.

  The realization made her smile at herself. From behind her closed eyes, she was envisioning him watching her, enjoying her need. She pressed her breasts against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. She adjusted her hands to be able to hold her bindings and keep the pressure off her wrists. All the while, she was swaying her hips to an inner music she felt more than heard. Desire and need were swelling as she imagined his hungry eyes dancing over her naked body. She felt bad. Really bad. Naughty. It was so very good. The moisture between her legs told her the decision to be here was the right one.

  His voice startled her out of her moment of self-revelation. “You are not to come without permission. Do you understand?"

  Her heart pounded. The blood rushed to her clit in anticipation of his next move. “Yes, Sir.” She could hear the giddiness in her own voice.

  "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Red.” The snap of leather echoed through the small marble bathroom. Cynthia's heart jumped and her adrenaline started to pump, but her body ceased all movement. What was the toy? A flogger? A crop? Maybe it was his belt. She licked her lips and braced her self, locking her knees and leaning closer to the wall. Every second she waited, she felt her arousal level climbing.

  Cynthia jumped when his fingers closed over her nipples in a tight pinch. She'd expected the strap and the surprise sent the awareness of his touch surging through her body. She was so close to coming she was afraid she would without enough warning to ask permission. She heard herself whining as he continued to twist and tug at her nipples. Her swaying had turned to wiggling as he pinched.

  The cold of the metal did not come as a surprise, but the clamps were much tighter than she would have imagined. She whimpered as he attached the first one.

  "Talk to me, Red,” he whispered into her ear. “Green? Yellow?” He pressed against her back as if to let her know he was right with her, supporting her, his fingers trailing over her aching breast. The juxtaposition of the tender and the brutal sent fireworks through Cynthia.

  "Green.” It was more of a squeak than a word, but he understood.

  His breath teased the sensitive end of her straining nipple, and he kissed it, running his tongue over her breast. Her body was working overtime to reconcile the pleasure wit
h the pain. One sensation was adding to the other. The mental aspect of the binding added even more to the erotic mixture. She wasn't sure if she wanted to beg for orgasm or wait and see what this man had in mind next. That strap had to be close.

  "I think she likes the nipple clamps,” he murmured as he rubbed his body against hers, and for the first time Cynthia realized he was now naked. She wondered why he'd not pressed his cock against her. His skin was hot and the roughness of it made her tremble.

  "Do you need to come?"

  "Yes, Sir. Please.” She knew she sounded desperate. She didn't care. All she wanted was to come.

  His lips were against her ear again when he spoke. “Good girl.” He bit her earlobe, sending another tiny wave through her. “You can ask. You don't have to wait for me to ask you."

  He moved behind her. Finally, his cock slid between her legs, not entering her, but stroking her thighs. Cynthia was about to cry out for relief, her nipples quivering, clit throbbing as his hands roamed her body. She couldn't have stood still if her life depended on it. Her high heels clicked on the marble floor as she pranced and wiggled, trying desperately to get him to touch her, to fuck her, to let her come.

  "Tell me, Red. Tell me exactly what it is you want."

  "I want to come, Sir."

  "No. What is it you want me to do? Tell me what it is you want me to do to make you come. Do you want me to touch your clit, Red?"

  "Oh ... yes. Please, Sir."

  He pressed his body against hers. His hands gripped her hips. Cynthia bit her lip he growled into her ear. “Say it then, Red. Say it in the dirtiest most depraved way you can. Tell your Sir what you want."

  Cynthia felt her knees weaken, and he held her still. “Make me come, Sir. Rub my clit. Fuck me. I don't care. Just, please. I need to come."

  Two fingers were immediately rubbing her clit, and Cynthia's knees gave way as she felt her orgasm coming. “Please ... I ... need."

  "Come, Red."

  It was as if his words, his permission was the most delicate yet intense stroke her clit had ever felt. Her orgasm swept her like none other. It was okay to be a slut, and it was okay to come, okay to be a woman with needs, and okay to be the object of his gratification.

  He lifted her hips as soon as her orgasm started to fade. “Hold your weight."

  Cynthia struggled to get her balance and acclimate to the loss of his body heat again when he pulled away. She wasn't all the way balanced when the belt stung across her upper thigh and wrapped between her legs, the end just barely striking her still throbbing pussy lips. She gasped, struggled to gain purchase and brace for the next blow. The sting quickly turned to a lick of pleasure and sent additional mixed signals to her brain. Her dripping pussy wanted more.

  The next two came fast and landed higher on her ass. She spread her legs and lifted her ass in invitation. She wanted more sensation on her pussy. Two more strikes to her ass and she was ready to beg again.

  "Please.” She knew she was about to cry for it.

  "So soon, Red? What do you need, beautiful?” The kind tone was in contradiction to the harsh touch of a bare-handed spank.

  "Please, Sir."

  "What do you want? Use the correct language and address me properly if you want anything at all.” Several sharp spanks landed directly on her swollen pussy.

  Cynthia knew what she needed. Knew what she wanted, but didn't know that she would ask for it. Never had she asked for sex in her life. But she was in such need she would grovel if that was what it took.

  "Please, Sir. Fuck me.” She felt the tears of embarrassment start behind her closed eyes. “Please."

  He eased behind her. “What a good girl.” His hands were caressing her face, and his hips pressing into her ass. As she spoke, he wrapped the belt around her throat. “I'm not going to choke you. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir.” She was pressing back against him. His cock was hard against ass cheeks. She wanted it inside her so bad. “Please, Sir."

  "I'll be right there, baby.” He pulled away, and Cynthia heard the wrapper on a condom tear and was eternally grateful he was thinking when she had not been able to put two words together. He returned before she had a second thought about that and tugged her back with the makeshift collar. He was right. It didn't choke, but gave him control of her posture.

  He arched her back and kicked the inside of one of her feet. “Spread ‘em.” His voice had deepened. She followed his instructions. “Open those eyes. Look in the mirror."

  She hesitated. Was she ready for what she was about to see?

  "Open them."

  Slowly she peeked out from under her lashes and into the mirror. Afraid she'd be shocked by her appearance, she focused on his body pressed against hers. He jerked on the collar. She made eye contact with him. Those steel-blue eyes seemed to glow with passion.

  "Don't look at me, Red. Look at the beauty that you make all tied up and ready to be fucked. Look at what a fabulous slut you are."

  Cynthia looked. He was right. In her lust-filled state, with her back arched, her legs spread and this gorgeous man pressed against her ass, she looked fabulous. She felt fabulous, and she wanted him inside her instead of against her.

  "Please, Sir,” she pleaded, this time her eyes locked with his in the mirror.

  He leaned back just a bit and slid his cock into her wet, waiting pussy. She screamed in pleasure for the first time ever as his thick cock entered her and then stopped.

  He kept eye contact as he pulled back slowly, gripping her hips with his strong fingers as he did. His face was tight with his own pleasure. “Oh yeah, you are so hot. So good.” He plunged in again, lifting Cynthia off her toes and pressing her breasts into the wall.

  She said something in response that she didn't even understand. His self-affirming chuckle was the only warning she got before he started to thrust hard and fast. He held her hip with one hand and kept her movements controlled with other hand tight on his belt around her neck as he fucked her, watching her in the mirror.

  His attention shifted to her ass as he lifted one hand and traced the angry red marks from his spanking as he stroked. Cynthia felt another orgasm coming fast. The satisfaction on his face was more than she could take.

  "Again, Sir?” was all she could manage to say.

  His eyes snapped from her backside to her reflection in the mirror. “Already?"

  She was embarrassed, but orgasmic. “Yes, Sir."

  Re-doubling his efforts, he nodded, “Yes, baby, come for me.” He watched her face, and as she came, he stopped, letting her muscles grip him and stroke his cock. “You are so hot. Your face is so expressive when you come."

  Cynthia blushed, but didn't have long to be shy. His face turned stern again and lifted her tied hands off the hook, spun her around and bent her over the sparking white marble of the bathroom counter. “Brace yourself against the mirror."

  She did. Her face was a foot from the mirror. She could see her makeup was smudged from her eyes tearing, her neck adorned with this belt, her garter belt twisted and one stocking loose and hanging around her knee. Seeing herself this way was the sexiest thing she had ever experienced.

  She was his slut—and it was so freeing.

  He'd not broken contact as they repositioned, and he quickly gained stride again. He watched her in the mirror as they fucked. She wondered what he was thinking. He looked very serious, very sexy. She lost concentration on his thoughts as he tugged the collar.

  "Your job is to feel, Red. That's it. The rest is my responsibility. Quit analyzing and feel me.” He pulled her head up with the leash and used his other hand to push her lower back to the counter. The action arched her further, lifted her ass higher, opening her up to his strokes. He groaned as he pushed deeper. She had to press harder against the mirror to steady herself and she closed her eyes.

  "That's it. Just experience it."

  And she did. And it was so good. Her legs no longer quivered from being bent over, and her back didn't ca
re that it was arched. The counter felt good, the hair on his legs felt good as it brushed the inside of her thighs, the tug on the collar felt good as he thrust, and the press of his cock inside her felt like paradise. She was going to come again.

  "Sir?"

  "Not yet.” It was a strained response. Cynthia looked up in the mirror. He was getting close. His face was tight, his eyes almost closed.

  She strained, trying not come before him. He slowed his strokes, and she felt him swelling insider. “Sir?” she was so close and not sure she could hold it.

  "No!"

  She whined and watched his eyes close and felt his swell. He was coming and not letting her come with him.

  She felt his throbbing as his orgasm washed over him. He gripped her harder and grunted his pleasure. Her muscles strained as she fought not to come. She was gritting her teeth. “Sir?” It was close to a scream.

  He opened his eyes. The blue was even more brilliant in the bright counter lighting and his post-release state. He reached around and pinched her clit, pushing himself as far in as his softening cock would go. “Now, baby. Come now, so I can feel those muscles."

  She rocked back and let the sensation roll over her. She watched his face as she came. His pleasure that she had held it until given permission showed in his eyes. The excitement of feeling her pussy contract around his ultra-sensitive cock showed in the grimace on his lips. His expressions and his pleasure with her added to the intensity of her release. Her entire body shook, and she gripped the glass of the mirror to try to steady herself—unsuccessfully. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the counter.

  He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, laying her gently on her side. He pulled the comforter over her and returned to the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a warm wet cloth and a glass of water.

  Cynthia started to thank him but he kissed her like a lover before she could speak. His lips gently brushing hers. She closed her eyes as his tongue searched her lips, then entered and explored her mouth while his hands held her head.