by Livia Grant
Trust your dom or say red.
Since I wasn’t about to safe word, I reached back, my fingers moving into the crease of my ass, and I pulled my buttocks apart.
“Good girl,” Braxton praised, and I felt an inordinate amount of pleasure at his words. And when he added, “Wider,” I tightened my hold and offered him even more of myself. My entire body trembled as his fingertip traced down the split of my ass.
“Don’t tense,” he instructed, the finger no longer circling but tapping against an opening that wasn’t exactly the one I wished to be entered. “The ginger is going in, but you do have the choice of making it easy or difficult.”
Who was he kidding?
I couldn’t possibly be the only person who would argue there was nothing easy about having a plug shoved into your ass, could I?
A slap directly against my anus had me yipping and reminded me doms made the rules here. The sub obeyed them or most likely paid some type of consequence. I took a deep breath and concentrated on obedience, determined not to show him any cracks in my facade even if I couldn’t quite relax as much as I wished.
The tip of his finger pushed into me, and that’s when I realized ginger wasn’t the only substance he’d be introducing. Whatever he’d dipped his finger into was slippery. Lube would be my guess as he pulled his finger free only to add another dollop.
I bit my bottom lip as he added a second finger, the stretch more intense. It was a strange feeling, his fingers twirling to smear the substance onto the sensitive surface of my inner walls. It felt a little cold but perhaps that was simply because all the parts of me he’d licked, nibbled and kissed were burning. It was wrong in so many ways, but my body didn’t care. As Braxton’s fingers began to scissor, forcing my hole to loosen, my pussy spasmed as if jealous of the attention happening just a few inches away.
He was no longer tonguing me, but he was definitely adding fuel to the fire. My nipples rubbed against the surface of the table intensifying the tingling heat from his licking, and my fingers itched to drift between my legs and relieve the throbbing building between them. I was so lost in the budding arousal it took me a moment to realize that while the stretching sensation continued, it wasn’t due to the presence of his fingers. He’d pushed the ginger plug he’d prepared into me.
“No, don’t clench. Just relax,” Braxton chided. Each word was accompanied by more pressure as the plug gained another inch.
It advanced steadily until he gave a final firm push, seating it fully within my ass, ignoring my cry at the brief flare of pain.
“How do you feel?”
Looking over my shoulder, I watched him pull off the gloves he wore while I considered my answer for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but except for the pressure and a fullness, I don’t feel anything. I sort of expected something more… ummm back there.”
He grinned. “Give it time.” Patting my ass, he added, “You can let go.”
Embarrassed at the reminder of my participation, I released my cheeks as he left my side. After pulling on a new pair of gloves, he selected the next item from his bag of tricks.
Seems he hadn’t lied about the contents of his bag. This was a toy I instantly recognized. “What are you planning on doing with that?” I asked, pushing up onto my elbows. “Last I checked floggers were made of leather strands and not chemicals.”
“They’re called falls, not strands,” Braxton corrected as he ran his fingers through the leather strips. “And if you remember the basic principle of chemistry, everything on earth is chemical because everything is made of matter.”
Seriously?
I considered asking him if there was anything he didn’t know but decided it didn’t matter. He unscrewed the top of a large bottle and upended its contents into a basin. Flexing his wrist, he used the flogger to stir the solution, coating the falls before lifting it high. I watched as droplets slowly slid down the leather.
Meeting his gaze and seeing the heat in his eyes, I had the distinct feeling I was about to learn more than I’d ever wanted to know about chemical reactions. My pulse quickened as the anticipation he’d mentioned earlier returned ten-fold.
Chapter 5
Braxton
I was very aware of Ember’s hesitancy… not in playing, but in playing with me. I was also cognizant of the submissive need she telegraphed with her eyes, her soft gasps, little mewls, and, of course, her very responsive nipples and still glistening pussy easily seen now that I’d removed her curls.
“Flat on your stomach now. Arms and feet to each corner,” I instructed as I pulled restraints out from the shelf beneath the table.
Taking her right hand, I wrapped the cuff around her slender wrist and clipped it to the rope. I checked to ensure there was enough slack as not to put too much tension on her shoulders when she started to tug against their hold… because I had absolutely no doubt she would be. After tying the rope off, I moved to her ankles.
The view of her spread eagled was extremely appealing, and yet I wasn’t quite done in prepping her. It took me opening a few drawers to find what I needed while making a mental note to stock hair ties in my toy bag. Opening the package, I pulled out a band and began gathering her hair. Its weight was heavy, the tresses like silk in my hands. Once I had fashioned a ponytail high up on her head, I realized there was a problem.
“Your hair is really long,” I said, running my fingers through its length from the top of her head to where it ended below her shoulder blades.
“You are not cutting my hair,” she said emphatically.
“Don’t worry.” I curtailed her attempt to turn her head back with nothing more than a sharp tug of her hair. “Not only does it make a very convenient handle, it’s far too beautiful to even consider cutting. However, I do need it off your back,” I said, releasing my hold.
She studied me a moment and then offered, “If you’ll undo my hands, I can fix it.”
Nodding, I loosened the ropes but left the cuffs in place. In just a few seconds, she’d pulled the hair free of the band, and with a few twists of her fingers, what had been a rather messy ponytail became an elegant chignon. She gave me a smile and offered me her wrists.
“Well done,” I said before taking her hands. Once I’d secured her again, I retrieved the flogger.
Ember’s eyes never left the implement as a few drops of the oil I’d applied dripped from the falls. I didn’t see any signs of distress in her expression or her body language.
“You’ve been flogged before?”
“Yes, though never with a wet one.”
“Another first then,” I replied with honest pleasure. There was just something about introducing a submissive to an unfamiliar element, be it an instrument, a position, or a piece of equipment. “Do you remember your safe word?”
“I won’t need it. I like being flogged.”
“The question was do you remember your safe word,” I admonished, needing to know she remembered she had an avenue to stop everything with the uttering of a single word.
“It’s red to stop, yellow if I need a break, and green if all is good,” she dutifully recited.
“Correct. Do not hesitate to use them. This won’t feel like any other flogging you’ve experienced. If you start feeling truly uncomfortable, I need to know immediately. Is that clear?”
Ember impressed me when she nodded and answered, “Yes, Master.”
And with that utterance of respect, I began.
Standing at the end of the table, I flicked my wrist, the falls landing with a soft splat across her shoulder blades, then against her upper back, then a bit lower. I started to circle the table, adjusting my strokes to land in different spots, the glistening on her skin spreading as the oils were transferred from leather to flesh.
A soft moan had me asking, “Color?”
“Green… but it’s different. Not really painful, but there’s a sense of heat I don’t remember.”
“Burning or just warm?”
“I feel a little more heat than from the cinnamon oil you licked all over me, but my ass is beginning to tingle… a lot.”
“Your sense of smell is spot on, but I think you must be anticipating a bit too vividly as I’ve yet to even flog your ass,” I teased. Her hips twitched and I caught sight of the ginger root protruding from between her buttocks. “Ah, you meant inside your ass, didn’t you?”
Her answer was an exaggerated huff that had me reaching down to give the plug a tug. After enjoying her little squeal, I gave it a few twists before pushing it deep again.
“I meant, yes… yes, sir.”
It truly was remarkable at how quickly her attitude changed.
“You’re fine. A little heat and tingling are part of the experience.” Knowing the effect was just beginning, I patted her ass and then continued. Each stroke slapping against her body helped drive the oil deeper. She began to squirm but didn’t start pulling on the restraints until I landed the first hard stroke across her ass. A second circle of the table had her mewling and writhing, her legs jerking in concert with each contact of the dozen falls against the back of her thighs. The aroma of her arousal grew thicker as my dick hardened.
Moving to the head of the table, I continued, “The good news is if you haven’t had an adverse reaction by now, you aren’t going to.”
Blue eyes looked up at me. “How come I have a feeling there is a ‘but’ coming?”
“Because you are as smart as you are beautiful.” I shook the flogger. Not because the falls needed to be untangled — I paid a great deal for the implements I played with and expected them to perform flawlessly. But the motion had the intended effect. Ember’s eyes were glued to the flogger, color darkened on her cheekbones, and the pouty bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. Squatting down before her, I ran my thumb along her lip until she released it. Only then did I expand on my answer. “But… the bad news is the burn is only going to get hotter from this point forward. Still green?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” I leaned forward to nip the lip she’d been biting before straightening. I gave her a few seconds and then lifted my arm. The first stroke had her eyes closing, her mouth forming an O as the tips of the leather kissed the lips of her pussy.
My attention split between listening to her verbal responses, watching her reactions, and witnessing the red lines rising on the surface of her skin. The individual smears of the nettle oil had long since merged together to form a sheen that seemed to ripple like water as she writhed and squirmed beneath the flogger’s falls. Her ass danced from side to side, her fingers clenched tightly around the restraints, toes pressed into the table, each perfectly painted nail a spot of blood red against the ebony black of the leather. But what had my balls drawing up was the line of cream I could see glistening between the lips of her sex every time she bucked her hips up.
I quickened my pace as I circled the table, the falls flying through the air in a blur to land all over her back, her ass, her thighs, her sex. Muffled squeals and moans serenaded the flogging. Ember wasn’t just wet… she was dripping, yet I had the feeling she was holding back.
The next time I was at her feet, I paused to reach forward, drawing a finger up her sex, and didn’t stop until I had two fingers buried in her pussy. Muscles immediately clamped tight when I attempted to withdraw them as if determined not to let me go. I’d not doubted she was enjoying the scene, and this absolutely proved me right. But she hadn’t yet come apart. What was she afraid of?
Pulling my fingers free and tucking the flogger beneath my arm, I reached into my pocket and removed the packet I’d slipped into it earlier. Her head turned at the sound of my teeth ripping it open. I knew she expected me to pull out latex and watched her nose crinkle when instead I cupped my fist, concealing the contents.
“Eyes forward,” I instructed, ignoring the question in her gaze.
Once she looked away, I stepped closer and used the fingers of my left hand to part her labia, giving her clit just the barest flick of my nail. The little bundle of nerves was swollen, and I could see it pulsing. She gasped when I slid the first toy into her, pushing it deep with my index finger. The second orb immediately followed.
“Omigod, what is that?” she asked, her voice an octave higher than it had been before.
“Stop questioning everything,” I said, ignoring the question. “Just enjoy the sensations.” A slide of a switch encouraged her to do just that as I began flogging her again. Her cries were louder, her movements less controlled as her body’s needs overcame whatever barrier her mind had erected.
“Please… oh… oh, God…” she moaned, her ass lifting and bucking, every point of restraint rattling as the force of her struggles increased.
“Come for me, Ember.”
“I… I can’t,” she wailed.
This was the moment when she needed to realize I didn’t play at being a dom. I expected my submissive to obey, to follow every instruction to the best of her abilities. I didn’t care if the performance was flawless — especially when partnering for the first time — but I did expect obedience.
I crouched down at her head again, cupping her chin in my fingers and forcing her gaze to mine. “You can,” I corrected. “You will. We both know how much you want to come. Send the prim and proper Ms. Keller away and let dirty little Ember out to play. You’ve got a ginger root up your ass and a pussy buzzing and weeping like a fountain. Stop fighting it and just let go.” Rising, I gave her another stroke. The crack of leather against flesh was almost as pleasing as the sound of her keening.
“Come for me. Come now,” I ordered, snapping the flogger against her pussy. Moisture from her arousal splattered as her head reared back. She screamed as she came, her body going rigid for a moment before it bowed as far as the ropes allowed. It was fucking beautiful to watch.
I didn’t instantly quit, simply lightened my strokes, drawing the falls slowly over her skin, keeping her body in an aroused state as I clicked the remote off. She convulsed, muscles contracting, her legs trembling until she went limp on the table. She gave a protracted sigh as her fingers uncurled from the ropes; her cheek pressed to the table.
Bending down, I kissed the tip of her nose and then moved to release her from the restraints. When she started to push up, I gently pressed against her shoulder.
“Just relax.”
She’d done beautifully beneath the flogger, accepting each stroke with grace. From the mewls and moans, I’d say she’d experienced a great deal of pleasure despite the bite of pain of every lash. More importantly, she’d fought an internal battle and banished the third uninvited player from the room. Blue eyes followed my movements as I gathered what I needed and returned to her.
“Essential oil,” I informed her as I poured a generous amount into my palm. “It will remove any residual sting from the nettles.” I began massaging the oil into her shoulders, loving the soft, drawn-out moan of pleasure she gave. My fingers grew slippery as they ran over slightly raised wheals that were already fading. Any sign of tension began to dissipate as I moved down her body.
Once I had washed her torso, I opened a cabinet. The distinctive box I chose had her scrambling to sit up only to discover that wasn’t exactly comfortable with a large ginger plug up her ass. Tucking her knees beneath her, she knelt up and shook her head.
“Oh, hell, no,” she protested vehemently. “The root was bad enough.”
“Even after I remove it, leaving it unrinsed will only ensure you’ll continue to feel its presence for hours.” I paused before shrugging and adding, “Your choice.”
She didn’t immediately answer, her eyes focused on the plastic bottle I pulled out as if it were a viper slithering out, fangs bared and ready to strike.
“So, this is what a dirty girl gets… an enema,” she said forlornly.
A second bottle had her slapping her hands over her face. Setting the pair down on the table, I took her hands and pulled them down.
“I happen to thi
nk dirty girls make the best play partners,” I said. “But it’s also a great deal of fun to clean them up so they can get dirty all over again.”
Sighing deeply, she lay down once more. After care was her time to regroup, so I spread her cheeks myself with one hand and then tugged the root firmly. Her hips shifted but her only protest was a slight moan as I worked the ginger free. I inserted the tip of the bottle into her anus and squeezed repeatedly until the contents had transferred into her.
Tossing the empty bottle into the trash had her planting her hands on the table and pushing up. I pressed my palm to her back. “Not yet. You need to let the solution do its work. Relax and hold that in while I wash your pussy.”
“You try relaxing with a gallon of liquid sloshing around inside your ass,” she snapped tersely, her buttocks instantly clenching tightly.
“Watch your tone,” I said, the quick slap applied to her right ass cheek serving as an exclamation point to the instruction. Reading the label on the second bottle, I added a quick lesson in math to the lesson plan. “You’re about 123 ounces short of a gallon, but I know there is a very large red rubber bag in the cabinet if you’re a stickler for being correct.”
An amazing full-body shudder accompanied the rather vigorous shake of her head.
“I didn’t think so.” A tug on the cord had the Ben Wa balls slipping free before I replaced them with the nozzle of the bottle. “Hold that in as well,” I instructed after emptying the contents into her sex. It wasn’t truly required, but it was necessary to remind her that she was my submissive until 11:00 o’clock.
I washed my hands before picking up the glass of milk.
“You don’t strike me as a milk drinker.”
Chuckling, I said, “This isn’t for me.” Grabbing a few of the large cotton balls out of their jar, I added, “And it’s not for drinking. The solution inside you won’t ease the residual sting of the nettles and ginger in all your little nooks and crannies.”
