by Diana Hunter
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She grinned self-consciously. “Not too hard.”
“Give me your hands.”
With less hesitation this time, she held her hands before her.
Richard pulled a set of handcuffs out of his pocket. Never taking his eyes off her, he fastened first one side, then the other around her wrists.
Lissa could not take her eyes from the cuffs. Silver light flashed from them as she twisted and turned her arms, testing them. Police handcuffs. The kind that only came off with a key. Bound in front of her, she could still use her hands to fend him off if she chickened out, although the cuffs hampered her movements. Her pussy clenched and surged beneath her dress.
“Please take your seat again, Melissa.”
Each order got easier to obey. She backed up the few steps needed and sat down, her cuffed hands resting uncomfortably on her lap.
“What are you thinking, my dear?”
What was she thinking? Her mind was in a tizzy. “I’m not sure,” she confessed.
“Are you wet?”
She knew what he meant. “Yes.” She dropped her head as her cheeks flamed again. A lock of hair fell in her face, and she started to raise her hand to brush it back, but both hands rose, bound in the handcuffs. Her stomach clenched and she stifled a whimper of arousal as she carefully set her hands back on her lap.
His fingers lifted her chin. “You have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about, Melissa. Your arousal makes you even more beautiful than you already are.”
The compliment only deepened her self-consciousness. But she kept her head up as his hand dropped away and she met his eyes with determination.
“You like how they feel against your skin? Tell me what you are thinking.”
His gaze intensified and she felt a small thrill. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to steady herself, letting it out with a rush before opening them again. “I am, first of all, a bit surprised that I’m sitting in a man’s kitchen with my hands cuffed while carrying on a conversation with him. That’s a bit disconcerting.” Lissa smiled shyly and continued. “The cuffs are cold, but not a lot.” She twisted her arms again, feeling the bondage of her wrists. “And even though the thought that I can’t get loose…umm…arouses me, it scares me as well.”
Richard beamed. “Excellent! Now that was a worthy answer, my dear. When I ask you, I expect you to tell me all that is in your head at that particular moment. Only by sharing that will you give me what information I need to continue. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
Lissa nodded, relaxing and smiling under his compliments. He was seducing her and she wanted to be seduced. She had been worried he would be demeaning and harsh; she found instead a man intent on truly understanding her.
“I am going to test your willpower. Your hands are to remain in your lap. Do not move them from where they are now.”
She nodded her acquiescence. Somehow, knowing that he was testing her made it easier to submit. Richard stood to bring his chair immediately before her. When he sat, his knees lay beside hers, holding them in place. His scent wafted to her; a pleasant cologne that reminded her of cloves. The exotic scent of a Gypsy king. His approach made her heart beat faster but she did not move her hands from her lap.
Not even when his fingers traced along her cheek, exploring the curves of her neck with his touch and with his eyes did she move her hands, clasped tightly together in their cuffs. She raised her head as he traced along her neckline, wanting to give him better access. Although, when his hands pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders, her hands twitched out of habit.
Richard paused and she calmed them, raising her head again when she was ready. His fingers pushed the little straps down along her arms until each rested on her bent elbow. The neckline of the sundress also slipped down so that all that covered her was the strapless bra.
Why had she worn this thing? Why couldn’t she have just gone with the whole ‘bad girl’ thing and gone braless? No, her independence had to keep throwing up roadblocks. And it wasn’t even the kind that could be unsnapped. She had to wear an elastic sport bra to bind her breasts in. Now that bra was one more barrier between her desires and Richard’s slow moving, sensual hands.
Richard did not seem at all bothered by it, however. He again lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Tell me what you are thinking, Melissa.”
“I’m thinking I’m sorry I wore a bra at all.”
“Do you want it off?”
She hesitated. Didn’t being submissive mean letting him do as he wanted? What did her desires matter? But Richard had ordered her to tell what she was thinking, so she answered, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”
He caught her eyes with his again, and held her gaze as his fingers once again traced her shoulder line, along her collarbone to the small hollow of her throat, then downward to run along the tops of her breasts where they swelled, a small ridge of flesh not protected by the fabric barrier. Lissa did not even realize that she leaned forward in a silent entreaty.
But Richard did not remove the garment. Instead, his fingers brushed down over the fabric, finding her rising nipples and the fullness of her bosom. He was in no hurry. His very deliberateness would have her begging for him sooner than she thought possible.
His thumbs caressed her nipples; the elastic fabric stretched as those buds rose in response to his stimulation. Only when they could rise no higher did he change his touch, bringing his fingers up to the top of the bra. He slid his forefinger into the space created by her cleavage and brushed the skin of her breast with his knuckle.
What she wanted was to caress the backs of his hands, to urge him to pull down the bra. But she was not in charge here; she had an order to fulfill. With an effort, she kept her hands still.
Her effort was rewarded. Richard grasped the garment by the bottom and slowly pulled it down, revealing increments of her breasts at a time. Lissa felt her breasts swelling up and when at last the nipples popped free, she gasped. The bra fell around her waist and she was naked from the waist up.
* * * * *
David and Adora talked for over an hour. Taking pains to remain non-threatening, David had gotten Adora to talk more about the rape she lived through and what it had done to her. To him, it was obvious her dominatrix attitude was directly related to the incident. When she confessed she hated to be tied up because of that, David understood why Richard could not “tame” her. “Because Richard likes his sex a bit rough, the two of you are not compatible in that department, am I right?”
They still sat beside the dining room table as the darkness of the late summer evening descended. At some point during the conversation, David had taken Adora’s hands; he held her delicate fingers entwined with his.
“Yes,” she admitted, disengaging her hands to sit up and to pull her long hair back from her face. “I love Richard, but we have not had sex together in quite some time.”
This was an unexpected revelation. The sex he shared with Lissa lately had never been better. The vulnerability in Adora’s face made his heart ache. He suspected a little tenderness now and she’d fall into his arms. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want pity sex with the woman any more than she would accept it from him.
“Do you want to? Have sex with him again at some point?”
She tilted her head, considering. Finally she leaned back in the chair with an explosive sigh and a word David did not understand. When she saw his confusion, she giggled.
“My apologies. It was not a very nice word in a language I no longer speak. My frustration is showing.”
David grinned. “My father knew a few words a friend had taught him in Italian. I suspect they meant the same thing.” The light was getting decidedly dim, yet the mood was too fragile to risk losing by turning on the bright overhead light. And he’d taken most of the candles upstairs in his naïveté. Only the “good" candles were in their places on the sideboard in ornate silver
candlesticks he and Lissa had been given for their wedding. They would do.
He waited to see if Adora would answer his question, busying himself with getting out matches and moving the candlesticks and candles to the table to give the woman time to think about what she wanted from her husband. Only once he was seated again, the soft, romantic light of the tiny flames throwing a circle of intimacy around them, did she make her reply.
“Yes, some day it would be good to do more than just lie in his arms. I would like to feel his caress again, the soft touch of his hands on my skin.”
“He can’t do that now?” How could one be married to a goddess such as this and remain apart?
She shook her head. “No, Richard’s needs threaten to overwhelm him. He has not had an outlet for quite some time. I am hopeful that Lissa will be able to tame that in him.”
David laughed out loud. “And here I thought Richard would tame her!”
“It will not happen all at once; their relationship will need time to grow, but I suspect your Lissa might be the one to ensnare the wild beast that he controls with expert precision. There is a rare quality about her I’ve not seen in any of his other women.”
For some inexplicable reason, David’s heart swelled with pride at her words of praise for his wife. “What quality is that?”
“The ability to totally submit, while still retaining her own identity.”
“And is that a quality you also have?” David’s voice was quiet.
“I don’t know.” She looked troubled.
“To submit means you’d have to let someone past all your defenses. You’d have to let them in and allow them to really care about you for you. Not for your beauty, or for your sexual prowess, or even for your intelligence. For you.” His hand brushed her hair back where it had fallen to obscure her face.
“I cannot, David. I cannot let you in yet.” He saw the tears in her eyes.
“I know, Adora. I know. But know that I am here should you decide it’s too lonely in there by yourself.”
The tears fell and David remained where he was, letting her cry. While his heart longed to take her in his arms and let her soak his shirt with her tears, he respected her need for distance; in time she might let him in. He had shown patience with a wild cat, he could have patience with the woman before him.
To give her some time, he stood and went into the kitchen to get her a tissue. The glass still sat empty on the counter; might as well get her that water she’d asked for before. He managed to get it filled from the tap when he felt her hands on his back again. Shutting the water off, he turned around.
Adora had dried her eyes and now silently took the glass from him, draining a third of it in one long pull. Setting it on the counter, she took his hands.
“Now, just because I cannot let you into that side of me, does not mean we can’t both be sexually satisfied tonight, my dearest David.”
There was no trace of the vulnerable woman he’d left in the dining room; but there was no trace of the dominatrix either. Only a very sexy, obviously horny woman stood before him.
“I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind a little sex myself,” he admitted grinning like a schoolboy.
“Uncomplicated, plain old sex. Shall we?” She pulled him up from where he leaned against the sink.
“I do believe we shall, my dear lady. This way.”
With a short detour through the dining room to blow out the candles and pick up the matches, David led Adora to the guest room. He had touched the vulnerable girl inside; for tonight that would be enough. Now, he would deal with the woman grown.
* * * * *
The summer dress lay forgotten on the kitchen floor, the bra artfully dropped beside it. Only the thong remained where Lissa originally put it, and that scrap of fabric was soaking wet from the juices that continually flowed from her pussy.
Richard had taken her by the handcuffs and led her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. But that was a misnomer; there was no bed in this room. There was what appeared to be a rack of sorts, but no bed. Other odd accoutrements puzzled her, and Richard gave her time to consider them. Deftly, he removed her handcuffs, then gestured to the room at large. “Explore, my dear. Observe all you wish. But do not touch.”
The warning was clear, as were the directions. Putting her hands behind her back, and clasping them so she would not inadvertently touch something, she examined the room and its equipment. Because the house was of Cape Cod design, the ceiling sloped on the far side; a wide dormer window, however, allowed plenty of ceiling space throughout.
To her left assorted implements hung from hooks imbedded in a pegboard wall. A set of leather cuffs with padlocks caught her eye; real ones, not like the Velcro ones David had used with her. Her heart beat a little faster. Several whips, including one very long and nasty looking one that had a very thin tail, hung like so many limp brooms. Quite a few types of painful-looking clamps, a bag of clothespins, several lengths and types of rope, and a few other items she could not identify also hung neatly from the pegs. The dampness between her legs increased dramatically, as did her heart rate. Did he intend to use all these things on her? And wasn’t that exactly what she wanted?
Lissa continued her circuit. Richard had only turned on a small lamp near the door, so odd shadows made it difficult to discern some of the items in the room. Something large and rectangular stood in the corner, but since it was covered in a scarlet cloth of velvet, she could not tell what it was. Lissa clenched her fists behind her back to keep them from raising the cloth and taking a peek. Whatever was under there was taller than she was, but not by much. She passed it by.
The rack came next. Up close, she realized it wasn’t really one of those medieval torture devices; no turnscrew adorned the end. Rather, it was a bed of sorts, made of strong plywood for the base. Eyehooks and holes were scattered at even intervals around the outside edges with a lever off to the side. The holes and hooks she understood, but she wondered what the lever was for. Glancing at Master Richard, she decided not to ask just yet.
Around the bottom of the “bed” and over on the other side of the room, she found three more strange shapes under more scarlet velvet cloth. Two were very oddly shaped—one long and bumpy, the other tall and thin—pressed fairly close to the wall. The last one was small and boxy with several more implements set on top of it, the uses of which she could not imagine, although her fantasies did try.
Her tour completed, she faced Master Richard again, letting her hands fall to her sides. Though fear and excitement mingled and made her stomach flutter, his calm demeanor and commanding gaze eased her fears a little, even as a part of her stood by in disbelief. Was she really going to let this man use any of these things on her?
“Very good, Melissa. You follow orders quite well.”
His words of praise sent a small thrill through her, even as the independent side mocked her: how dare you feel pleasure because you followed a man’s simple orders? That was the voice she wanted Master Richard to muzzle. Although she stood still, she willed him with her eyes to take her places she had only dreamed of.
“Tell me what you are thinking as you stand here, almost totally naked before me in a room designed for sexual pleasure?”
The words alone made her pussy twitch in expectation. “I’m wondering what a lot of these things are. Some of them I’ve seen before,” she gestured toward the pegboard, “and some I have not.” She inclined her head toward the “bed”.
“Are you regretting your decision to come upstairs with me?” His dark eyes were penetrating; Lissa felt him touch that hidden center of her soul as he had several times since they’d met. Adora had called that essence her “wild mare” that, once tamed, would mean she had given away every part of her being to a man. For several heartbeats, she returned his gaze, aching for him to control that resistant spirit inside. Finally, she shook her head.
“No, I do not regret it at all.”
“Melissa,” Richard’s smile was kind as he gazed
down at her. “Do you still wish to submit to me? You must know by now, I want more than the submission of your body.”
She did know it. And she wanted to give it. Desperately. “Yes. I know.”
He stepped closer to her near-naked form, the hunger inside his soul tightly controlled. “I cannot force that part from you, you must give it freely.”
In her exploration of the room, Lissa had grown comfortable with her nakedness, almost forgetting it completely. Richard chose to remind her of it, running a finger along her hairline, brushing her hair back from her face and over her shoulder, letting his finger meander down along her collarbone to trace circles around her bare breast. Like an animal trainer stalking a wild horse, he kept his movements slow and unthreatening. If he was right, this woman before him would be worth the wait.
Holding still was excruciating. His fingers meandered over her skin, and she wanted to push her breast into that powerful hand.
“Tell me, Melissa, do you still want to submit to me?”
“Yes!” The word ripped from the depths of her soul. “Please, yes. Let me be your lover, your toy to play with, your…” She paused, swallowed, and said the word, “Your slut.”
His smile was not of triumph, but of understanding. Richard knew better than she did what she asked for. She would learn, in time. His finger still traced circles around her breasts; he changed the pattern now, his finger tracing ever-smaller circles, coming closer and closer each time to her very aroused nipple. Keeping his manner maddeningly casual, he regarded the beautiful woman before him.
“Has David ever bound these magnificent breasts?”
“No,” she whispered, then cleared her throat and regained possession of her wits. “No. I tried once, but the rope kept slipping off.”
“That meant you didn’t have them tight enough.” His hand dropped abruptly. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
She did as she was told, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. Master Richard walked around her and Lissa saw him take the leather cuffs down from the wall, then finger a few coils of rope, before finally choosing one of thick cotton. He stepped behind her again and she felt the leather encase first one wrist and then the other. Two separate clicks as each padlock was locked on, then a third as the cuffs were locked together.
