‘Perhaps.’
‘Perhaps?’ he said, reaching for my chin and twisting my face back to him. ‘Did you find the little jingly balls, my love?’
‘Yes.’
His fingers ran along my inner thigh and patted it at the top. It was an almost unbearably sensuous feeling and I felt myself gush.
‘So where are they now? Tell me.’
‘They’re …’ I squirmed a bit, making them chime. ‘Can you guess?’
He chuckled but patted me again, harder this time.
‘I don’t have to guess. I’m asking you because I want you to tell me.’
Of course he was.
‘They’re inside me,’ I said, turning my eyes downwards.
‘Inside you? Did you eat them?’
I tutted. ‘No.’ God, he always got his pound of flesh. I don’t know why I was bothering to prevaricate really.
‘So? Be more … explicit.’
‘They’re … I put them up inside …’
‘Inside …?’
I huffed and spread my legs so that one of my feet landed in his lap.
‘Here, look for yourself.’
He laughed at my misguided bravado and held on to an ankle while his eyes glittered into mine.
‘Was that wise, Sarah?’
‘Probably not.’
‘What do you think would have been a better idea?’
‘Just to tell you what you asked, I suppose.’
‘Right. It always amuses me that you find it so difficult. Which is why I keep on asking, I suppose. I’m a horrible man, aren’t I?’
‘Yes.’
‘Say it. Go on. Tell me where the balls are.’
‘They’re in my …’ I stalled. I always had a problem deciding on terminology. ‘Cunt’ sounded too harsh, though I knew he’d get a kick out of it. ‘Vagina’ was most acceptable to me, but he’d find it too clinical. Maybe I should give it a cutesy name. Go for ‘foo foo’ or ‘front botty’ or something awful like that. I stifled a giggle, picturing his appalled face if I did.
No. I’d have to take the middle route.
I took a deep breath. ‘They’re in my pussy,’ I said, as matter-of-factly as I could.
‘Ah, see, was that so hard?’ he crooned, still stroking my inner thighs. ‘So you’ve got a full pussy, have you? And is that nice?’
‘It’s not bad,’ I said, maintaining my defiantly unbreathy tone.
‘Not bad? Well, we’ll have to do better than that. Perhaps the beads …?’
He raised his eyebrows and I tried to wriggle away from his sudden grip on my thigh. Too late.
‘Lie right down,’ he whispered. ‘And bend your knees. Raise your bottom a little. I want to see the string.’
I complied, my arms straining a little in their bonds.
I had a fear that Jasper might tug on the string and pull them out without warning, which caused me to clench my sphincter tight around them, holding them inside me. The balls chimed softly as I changed position, reminding me that I was double-filled.
‘Oh, nice,’ he said, taking hold of the end bead but, thankfully, not yanking on it. ‘It’s like a little tail. I think you should keep it. A tail suits you and it would give me something to hold you by.’
‘You already have the leash for my collar,’ I reminded him.
‘Yes, but this would be more fun, don’t you think? You could cut little holes in all your clothes to let it protrude. I think that would be very suitable. And any time you needed reminding of anything, I could just give it a little pull.’
‘I don’t think that would go down very well in public,’ I said, swallowing, trying to conceal how furiously turned on I was by this idea.
‘Oh, I think people would understand,’ he mused. ‘I think people know what you get from me. They wouldn’t be surprised, let’s put it that way.’
‘I still can’t get used to that,’ I muttered.
‘What? Knowing that people look at you and see a girl who gets roughly fucked up against trees by a bad man?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘But isn’t that what you are?’
‘Among quite a lot of other things,’ I cried. ‘And most people are judged on the other things. Not the private ones.’
‘But is it so bad, Sarah? I don’t think it is. I don’t mind a bit. After all, everyone does it. And you can bet your bottom dollar most people who read that article weren’t thinking, “Ugh, what disgusting people” but “Thank God the papers weren’t around when I was doing x, y, z with my lover.” Well, anyone who wasn’t thinking that is too boring to care about, quite honestly.’
I laughed, feeling a bit better about it all. Perhaps I should be out and proud.
‘Anyway,’ said Jasper, making it quite plain that the time for discussing socio-sexual mores was over. ‘Never mind that. I came here for my Christmas present, not a session of soul-searching.’ He gave the beads the tiniest tug and I gasped. ‘Didn’t I?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘OK, keep those legs wide. I’m going to climb into my one-horse open sleigh.’
I didn’t bother quibbling about the fact there was no horse. I was much too interested in what his plans might be.
He took off his jacket and slung it over a nearby chair, eased off his shoes, removed his socks and came to crouch in between my knees. I wondered, as he bent his head to inspect the bead thread at closer quarters, what he meant to do. Would he have to remove one or other of the toys if he intended to fuck me? Or would he leave them in? But perhaps he didn’t intend that at all.
‘Mmm,’ he said, his voice low down in his chest. I saw his adam’s apple bob inside his open collar as he swallowed. His eyes glowed with lewd fascination. ‘You can’t tell how full you are just from looking. But if I try to …’
He pushed two fingers inside my vagina, probing and stretching until they bumped into the balls. He played with them inside me, moving them around while I squirmed and gasped at his explorations.
‘Does that feel good?’ he wanted to know.
‘It feels strange,’ I said. ‘They can’t go too far, can they?’
He shook his head, with a sympathetic glance. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’s all quite safe.’
He kept his fingers in position, then pushed another one up alongside the beads. I was already a little way open, so he didn’t have to work too hard to get the first inch inside. It felt excruciatingly, shamefully intense.
‘Oh, now, how about this?’ he whispered. ‘You’re full to bursting now. Move for me. Give me a little wriggle.’
I gyrated my hips a little, feeling every bit of his fingers inside me and the objects beside them. My loins sprang into liquid fire and I knew I was soaking wet.
‘You’re trapped, aren’t you?’ he said with a laugh, then he pushed his face right between my pussy lips and began to press his tongue against my clit.
Oh, God, this was going to kill me. His fingers continued to stretch and spread while he licked and sucked and kept every sensitive part of me fully occupied. I tugged at the cuffs and tossed my head this way and that, thrown into a vortex of extreme sensation.
But Jasper didn’t care about tipping me over the edge. It was what he wanted, and when the first signs of my impending orgasm became obvious, he stilled everything, sat up on his heels and said, ‘Do you have a question for me?’
The loss of his tongue was almost painfully disappointing.
‘Please, sir,’ I said quickly, ‘may I come?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, smiling. ‘I think you will. But I’m not sure you should.’
‘Please, sir,’ I wailed.
‘Well,’ he said, pretending to consider it deeply. ‘All right.’ He made a dive back below and wound me up to fever pitch again within seconds.
The combined stimulation of his two sets of fingers, the balls, the beads and his tongue threw me into such a tremendous climax that I thought the bed was moving across the floor. I lay back and let i
t take me, feeling as if I was being hurled against the wall, a piece of flotsam picked up and carried along.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ he said, sitting up, pulling out his fingers and watching me through the last few pulses. ‘That was my Christmas lunch.’ He bent and kissed my slack lips. ‘Do you want yours?’
‘Let me get my breath back,’ I pleaded.
‘Of course.’
He kissed me again, hopped off the bed and went into the ensuite bathroom. When he came out again, he was fully naked. I always relished the sight of his taut, well-defined torso. Not too muscly, a look I’d never much liked, nor at all flabby or scrawny, he was simply the perfect happy medium. I especially liked the thatch of dark hair on his chest that trailed cheekily down to an unavoidable focal point.
Today, this particular focal point was on good form, firm, springy and quite erect. Ready for me.
‘Thought you might like to wet your whistle,’ he said, putting a toothmug of water to my lips. ‘You never know when your throat might dry out.’
I gulped down a few mouthfuls gratefully. The orgasm, in its majesty, had indeed left my throat feeling a bit sticky.
I knew what Jasper was going to try, but I couldn’t really see how it would work. I was in the wrong position here and I couldn’t use my hands, nor get myself any lower down. Undaunted, however, he got himself into a most unusual position – a kind of crouch with his feet between my thighs, and his hands gripping the top of the headboard. It would be pretty difficult to maintain, despite his excellent physical shape, but it did mean he could place the head of his cock right at my lips.
I took a moment to breathe it in – ah, how I had missed it – then parted my lips and let my tongue dart out.
‘Mm, take a taste,’ he invited, although I was already swallowing down that Jasper tang. I curled my tongue around the tip again, nudging back his foreskin. He helped me with that, giving it a sharp tug himself, revealing the delicate, vulnerable head within.
I teased for as long as he could take it, surprised at how he held out before urging himself between my lips with a grunt.
‘Stop playing with it,’ he hissed. ‘Suck it now.’
I wrapped my mouth around him, taking in the top half with ease. As he pushed onwards, I began to feel the familiar ache and the beginnings of my gag reflex, but we had worked on this and I overcame it.
It isn’t easy to give a blow job when your hands are unavailable to assist, but it wasn’t the first time and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last. I paced myself, establishing a languid rhythm that wouldn’t wear my cheekbones out in half a minute, taking plenty of time to tickle with my tongue tip when the sucking became fatiguing.
Jasper knew that this would extend the experience, and he approved.
‘Did you miss it?’ he murmured, flexing his hips to keep a gentle thrusting motion going. ‘Did you dream of it, while you were away?’
Obviously I couldn’t respond, unless it was by shutting my eyes and redoubling my efforts.
This seemed to be the answer he was looking for.
‘Oh, I see you did. Did you touch yourself, there in your big lonely bed, without my cock to look after you?’
I let an inarticulate sound stand in for yes/no/maybe, knowing he would take whichever answer he wanted.
‘Did you rub your poor untended clit and think of all the things I could be doing to you? Did you imagine them, one by one, while you lay with your legs open and your fingers all over your pussy? Did you … oh, God.’
The power of speech flew from him, and that was always a significant moment with Jasper, for whom the power of speech was more like a superpower.
He gave three jolts of his hips, so that his cock pretty much hit the back of my throat, then I tasted it, sharp and salty, coating the inside of my mouth.
He withdrew quickly and lay down, half on top of me, his head on my stomach. I could feel him trembling all over from the physical stress of holding position for so long. I wanted to stroke his hair, to wipe his brow, but of course I was cuffed.
He lay, panting hard until he was able to speak again. Poor Jasper – I think, for him, muteness would be far worse than blindness or deafness. To see him bereft of his usual eloquence was like seeing a wounded man.
‘You’re a gift,’ he said at last. ‘Nobody got anything better than that this Christmas.’
He sat up blearily and uncuffed my wrists, then wrapped my shaky arms around him for a long, passionate kiss.
‘You did miss me, didn’t you?’ he whispered.
‘Of course I did.’
‘I missed you. I ached for you, in fact.’
‘Oh, you,’ I said, all dazzly-eyed. ‘That’s so sweet.’
‘I know, not like me, is it? But it’s true.’
‘I missed you too. All the time. And not just your cock either.’
He laughed. ‘Well, aren’t you the romantic one?’ He yawned. ‘I haven’t finished unwrapping my gift yet, by the way. I still have plans for your musical balls and beads and whatnots. But I think we should take a rest first.’
It was fine by me. I felt overwrought, both with emotion and sensation. The balls and beads were comfortable enough that I was in no hurry to lose them. I was vaguely looking forward to whatever Jasper had in mind for them but I could wait.
‘Did you have a good Christmas?’ I asked him.
‘With mother? It was the same as ever. She invited every waif and stray for miles around and we all got roaring drunk. Best way, if you ask me.’
‘Oh, that sounds great,’ I said, comparing it with the claustrophobic, over-polite season I had spent with my parents, being asked twenty times a minute if I was sure I didn’t fancy a turkey sandwich.
‘Yeah, it could have been worse,’ he said. ‘Nobody fell through any windows this year.’
‘Oh, God, did that happen?’
‘Once. A ground-floor window, mind. Nothing serious.’
‘It’s all so glamorous.’
‘What, defenestration?’
‘No, your life. Your family. Mine is so incredibly dull by comparison.’
He stroked my cheek.
‘Listen, sweetheart, dull is the last thing I’d call you. I wouldn’t be lying here now with a dull person. I often wished, as a child, my family could be duller, though, I must admit.’
‘Did you really?’
‘What you see as colour and glamour was chaos to a child. They were constantly bankrupting themselves, moving around the country – sometimes around the world. There was no stability. And of course when my brother died …’
I squeezed him tighter, regretting my words now.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you.’
‘It’s not your fault. But you can understand, I suppose, why I used to long to be the boy in the suburban two-point-four-children family, going to football practice on a Saturday afternoon and all that.’
‘Whilst I longed to be a Victorian princess with a magical looking glass,’ I said. ‘Funny what we wish for. I almost feel as if I’ve achieved that dream.’
‘I think you have,’ he said, beaming at me. ‘Living in a looking-glass world, in a mansion full of antiques. Whereas I call the shots in my own life at last. No rugs being pulled out from under my feet any more. At least, I hope not.’
‘Calling the shots,’ I said dreamily. ‘That’s actually your job. Setting up shots and filming them and putting them together. Giving direction. It’s so you.’
He kissed me. ‘And you take direction so well,’ he said.
‘Speaking of which.’ I propped myself up on a still shaky elbow. ‘What about our body doubles? Did you invite them? Are they coming?’
‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘We have today and tomorrow to ourselves and then they arrive the next day. Three guests for New Year. I’m thinking it’ll be quite a party.’
‘Are you?’ I said guardedly.
‘Of course. Five like-minded souls. Though I feel I
ought to balance things up a bit and get a sixth guest too. Don’t want anyone feeling left out.’
‘No.’ Left out of what? ‘Listen, Jasper, I might be getting the wrong end of the stick here but it sounds a bit like you’re planning an orgy. You’re not, are you?’
I laughed, as if to show how silly I must be to let such an absurd notion cross my mind.
‘I’m not planning anything,’ said Jasper. ‘Apart from getting a few bottles in and going with the flow.’
‘And what if the flow leads somewhere … orgiastic?’
He laughed at me in turn, hugging me into him tightly.
‘You know how it really is,’ he said. ‘You subs control all the action, when it comes down to it. I’ll leave it up to you.’
It was a relief, and yet I was strangely uncomforted. If all of the other guests wanted some kind of group play and I didn’t … could I deny them? Would it be selfish of me? Would I have to opt out and mope about upstairs while they were all at it hammer and tongs in the drawing room?
But I didn’t want to ask any more questions. Perhaps it wouldn’t come to that. Besides, I couldn’t see Rosie being up for it either. Thank God for Rosie on the guest list.
I snuggled into him and let myself slip in and out of a doze. After the tension of my family Christmas and the intensity of the first half of our scene, I was ready to relax and drift away into dreamland. Even in sleep, though, I seemed to be conscious of the balls and beads within me and they lent an erotic quality to my nap that meant I woke up horny and raring to go.
Beside me, Jasper muttered, still not fully awake.
I wriggled at his side and he began to splutter, his whole body convulsing into consciousness in one swift, extravagant move.
‘Oh,’ he said, exhaling hard. ‘Oh, God. I was having such a weird dream.’ He turned to me and smiled, his chest heaving. ‘Sorry, have you been lying there, impatient for your master’s touch?’
‘Maybe,’ I said, deliberately jerking my pelvis so as to make the balls jingle.
‘God, yes, you’ve still got all that inside you, haven’t you? We have to get that sorted. Tell you what. Get on all fours and I’ll give you something to remember.’
I twisted myself into the required position, my chin resting on the scrolled edge of the headboard.
Her World of Submission Page 4
