by KB Alan
The light touch to her nose surprised her but she didn’t react. He traced her lips, then pushed his way inside. She opened for him, accepted him, swirling her tongue around his finger, sucking, grateful for the point of contact that he was giving her. He pulled free, but she didn’t want to let him go, following, pushing forward against the chair. Her sore wrist pulled against the cuffs uncomfortably and she forced her shoulders back to ease the tension. Drew’s finger disappeared completely.
“Open your eyes, Emma.”
His expression was stern. Was he annoyed she hadn’t let his finger escape easily? She thought to apologize, but then wasn’t sure she should speak.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She blinked, not sure how to answer. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You were in pain.”
“I’m fine.” She was not going to let tonight get derailed over a little sprain.
“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t be in pain. Tell me what the problem is.”
She shook her head, wanting to get past the interruption and back to what he’d started. “There’s no problem, Drew, I’m fine.”
The concern on his face morphed into the stern Dom look that told her she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing. She tried to think how she could assure him better that she was fine, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“Emma. I didn’t ask you if you wanted to tell me what was wrong, I told you to tell me. You still haven’t done so. Do you think that is acceptable? You cuffed yourself to that chair, I was under the impression we were in an active scene, not just sharing a meal.”
“Yes…I mean no…I mean, yes, we’re in a scene and no, it wasn’t acceptable. I’m sorry, Sir, I just…I’m fine. I strained my wrist at work, but Richard said it wasn’t bad when he wrapped it up.”
He didn’t say anything and she thought it might be best to stay quiet. What he did do, which had her heart sinking, was go around the chair and open the cuffs.
“You went to a doctor, who wrapped your wrist, and not only did you not think it important to share that with me, you refused to tell me about it when I asked you straight out.”
Oh shit. It hadn’t really seemed like that as it was happening, but she supposed she could see his side of it. Again, he didn’t give her a chance to respond.
“You’ve been in the lifestyle long enough to know that you should tell me if you have any changes in your physical condition. Am I wrong?”
“No, Sir.” She just hadn’t really thought about it like that.
“And you most certainly know better than to lie to me.”
Her eyes went wide at that. “I didn’t lie to you!” she cried out with a little too much vehemence, going by his reaction. His eyes went frosty.
“No?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
She pulled in a breath, tried to sound calm. “No. I am fine. I don’t feel it at all right now.”
“When did Richard wrap it?” he asked.
“Um, about four hours ago.”
“It seems unlikely to me that he wrapped it and told you to only keep it on for a couple of hours.”
Since he hadn’t asked a question she figured it might be best to not respond.
“You took it off so that I wouldn’t see it. You didn’t tell me about it before starting a scene. And here’s the kicker, Emma, and I hope you’re listening closely because you seem to be having a hard time with this, you didn’t tell me when I specifically asked you to.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She’d been so caught up in making tonight go perfectly, she’d paid no attention at all to the injury. Well, that wasn’t even true. Obviously she’d thought about it enough to make the unconscious decision to keep it from Drew, or she wouldn’t have taken off the bandage or tried to shrug him off when he was asking her about it. Shit.
She closed her eyes, the realization of what she was doing draining all the energy out of her. In addition to what he’d said, she’d been trying to control the scene. To control Drew and his reactions to her.
“I’m sorry, Drew. You’re right. I screwed up. I was trying to control the scene. I promise you, though, I didn’t realize I was doing it. It wasn’t on purpose.” She opened her eyes and gave him her, as real and honest as she could show.
He watched her for a moment, then pulled his chair back out, sat.
“Why?”
“I-I wanted tonight to be perfect. Amazing. Memorable.”
His eyebrows went up. “Do you think I’ll forget you in two weeks?” The pure incredulousness in his voice went a long way to making her feel better. And foolish.
“Not forget me. But maybe forget how good we can be together.”
He sighed, scraped his hands over his face. “Emma, I don’t think that would happen in two years, let alone two weeks.”
She didn’t say anything to that, just waited for him to decide what he wanted to do.
“Tell me honestly, do you think you should be punished?” he asked.
Her throat felt thick. “Yes, Sir.”
“Obviously tonight is important to you. I’m not going to deny that you have the right to that. So you can decide, get the punishment over with tonight, or wait until you get back. Either way, I will be the one deciding how we proceed with your decision. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Take a few minutes to think about it.” He got up, went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She watched him, trying to figure out the best way to go. On the one hand, she didn’t want to mar their memory of the night with a punishment. On the other hand, it would be hanging over her, over them, through any other scene they did. And throughout her trip. And on her arrival. Until it was done, she’d be in a weird limbo mode.
He sat back down, handed her the water. She took a drink, gave it back, stared at her knees.
“Do you need more time to decide?”
“No, Sir. I’d like to put the punishment behind us tonight.”
“All right.”
****
Drew smiled, knowing Emma couldn’t see as she’d dropped her head and couldn’t be seeing much besides her knees, her posture dejected.
Teasing his thumb under her chin, he lifted slightly until she raised her eyes to his. “That’s good. I’d say you just cut out half your punishment.”
Tears filled her eyes. Because of her mistake? Or because she was being punished for it?
“Why the tears?” he asked gently.
“For disappointing you.”
“No tears then. Show me you trust me to punish you fairly and be done with it.”
She swallowed hard, straightened her shoulders. Offered him a tremulous smile.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth. She didn’t move, didn’t turn in for more. He pulled back. “Tell me what happened with your wrist.”
She nodded. “I was at work and an elderly lady next to me started to slip. I caught her, but I jarred my wrist a bit. It was just an awkward angle. Richard said it would be tender for a few days.”
“All right. Take off your clothes, then go into the living room and wait.”
He picked up the chair that had arms and took it into the living room, then went upstairs and to his dresser, unbuttoned his shirt. He draped it over the top and opened the toy drawer. It had been fun shopping with someone specific in mind, and he’d assumed at some point he would need items specifically for punishment purposes. Including the ball gag he pulled out. Gags were on her club list as “maybe”. He was quite sure she didn’t like them. Next was the vibrator with a suction cup base and clit tickler, which could be used for pleasure, of course, but offered wonderful opportunities for punishment. It was hands-free, perfect for what he had in mind.
Butt plug next. The one he usually used, he passed over immediately. The one he’d used when Toby had visited was a maybe. But he did have a slightly larger one that she’d never experienced before. As his ha
nd hovered between the two, he suddenly realized that he’d plugged her during their scenes with Toby, rather than giving her the double penetration he’d suggested early on. Surprise that he hadn’t really thought about it, hadn’t really realized it, but had unconsciously decided that no, his best friend wouldn’t be fucking Emma, shook him.
Pushing the thought away, he selected the larger size and pocketed a bottle of lube. A handful of restraints and one of his ties, and he was ready. He grabbed the nipple clamps on his way out the door.
When he walked into the living room, she was standing next to the wooden chair, eyes on the floor. His anger was completely gone and he could see that while she was nervous, she was also a little excited. Her nipples had gone flat before, but were starting to bead up again. Her breathing was a little heavy and her thighs squirmed against each other before she realized he’d entered.
“Take a seat on the chair for a second, I want to see something.”
She did so without hesitation. He visually marked where he needed to place the vibrator. Dropping most of the items he carried onto the couch, he turned to face her.
“Stand up.”
When he moved closer, she didn’t raise her head. “Emma, look at me.”
He saw nervous fear mixed with uncertain excitement. Perfect. When he held up the ball gag, she grimaced, but quickly smoothed out her expression. Holding out his other hand, he offered her his tie, indicating that she should take it with her left, unhurt, hand.
“This will be your safe word. I’m not going to hurt you, but you should have it anyway. As long as you’re holding it, I will continue as I see fit. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She made no movement when he lifted the gag, but opened for him easily. He buckled the strap in place and smoothed out her hair, making sure nothing was tangled up painfully.
“All good?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Good.” He brushed her chin. “Don’t move.”
Going behind her, he pulled the chair over so that it faced the couch, then mounted the vibrator. He let the controller dangle to the side of the seat.
“Emma, come over here.”
He positioned her in front of the chair and fingered her pussy. Wet, but not wet enough to take the dildo. Taking out the lube, he offered it to her and gestured to the chair. “You’ll have to do it yourself.”
A quick nod was her only response before she turned and squeezed a line of lube on the rubber-like shaft. He didn’t think she’d put enough on when she turned to him, so he raised his eyebrows. She met his eyes steadily. Quickly, he fingered her, found her wetter than before. Holding back a smile, he nodded.
“Good. Use your good hand to brace yourself on the chair’s arms, and sit.”
She swallowed, and her cheek jerked, probably annoyed as well as tickled by the little bit of drool that escaped. Oh yeah, she’d hate that.
With one hand gripping the chair and the other steadying the toy, she slowly lowered herself. He listened to her breathing, judging her progress by that rather than trying to watch. He was already rock hard and needed to give himself some time to cool off, or he’d blow before he had a chance to finish what he wanted to start.
She raised up a bit, a slight slurping sound letting him know, then continued down. When she took a heavy breath through her nose, he checked. She was flush with the seat.
“Go ahead, move around a bit. Get comfortable.”
After a minute she stopped adjusting her seat, nodded at him.
“Now stand up.”
She blinked, but didn’t hesitate. He handed her the lube again, along with the butt plug. “Can you do it yourself?”
Immediately she nodded, though she didn’t look too happy about it. It could have been that she didn’t want the plug, but he suspected it was that she wanted him involved, wanted him warming her up, easing the toy inside her as he’d done before. As he would do again. But not for punishment.
She put plenty of lube on the head and shaft and seemed to be unsure the best way to go about it. Amused but careful not to show it, he simply watched. Finally she squatted nearly to the floor, and reached around with her left hand to nudge the plug against her hole. It didn’t go well, at first, but she took a deep breath and started to accept the toy into herself.
When the forward motion faltered, she tried again.
“No,” he said. “Pull it out a bit, ease it back in. Tease yourself with it. I said I wouldn’t be hurting you; you aren’t allowed to, either.”
She nodded her understanding, did as he’d instructed. Soon her asshole was stuffed full and she rose, turned back to face him. Her face was flushed and shiny with sweat, her eyes studying him. Looking for approval, he guessed. Keeping his face as expressionless as possible, he gestured behind her.
“Do you need more lube to sit down?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Check.”
Her eyes shuttered. He watched her face instead of her fingers. When she opened them again, nodded, he looked down. Her fingers were slick.
“All right. Sit.”
She was slower now, her channel tighter. Her breathing increased and he listened carefully to ensure she was getting plenty of air. Once she was steady, he strapped her right arm to the chair, putting one cuff just below her elbow and the other halfway to her wrist. He wanted her to feel secure, controlled, and he wanted to make sure she couldn’t move the wrist and accidentally cause herself pain. He strapped her other wrist and both ankles, making sure the tie was in her hand and that she had room to drop it. When he was done, he stepped back, examining her critically. Her face was still flushed, her nipples once again hard points. Which reminded him. He grabbed the nipple clamps and, without further preparation, put them on. A sharp inhale was her only response.
Her hands gripped the arms, but not too tightly and she wasn’t pulling against the bonds. Her eyes were steady on his. Perfect. He grabbed the remote and took a seat on the couch. Their knees were almost touching and he could smell her arousal. So fucking perfect.
Leaning forward, he brushed through her curls and made sure the tickler part of the dildo was positioned correctly. “Tilt your hips toward me a little bit,” he instructed. “There, stop. Is the plug secure?”
She nodded.
With no further warning, he thumbed the remote and turned on the vibrator. The remote was something he’d studied carefully on the web before making his purchase. With it, he could control all the parts of the vibrator separately, as well as turning on a preset program that would cycle through various settings. For now, he activated only the part that would torment her clit.
Her eyes closed against the sensations, but otherwise she remained still. Until she heard the snap of the lube lid as he opened it. Her gaze focused in on his hands, but he watched her face. Without needing to look, he poured a dollop onto his left hand, leaving the right clean to work the remote control. Her eyes widened when he stroked his cock, eased his hand over the shaft, then the head, spreading the lube. Slowly her forehead crinkled up.
Damn, the gag made it harder to read her expressions. No wonder he rarely used them. But he’d needed something she didn’t particularly like without delving into anything she actively disliked. He wanted her uncomfortable, not unhappy. He figured she’d worried he might intend to replace the plug with himself, then realized he wouldn’t have tied her to the chair for that. No matter, she’d figure things out soon enough.
He didn’t usually masturbate in front of women. Generally he appreciated a much more hands-on approach. But there was something delectable about watching the cream trickle down Emma’s thigh, her gaze riveted to his hand on his dick, her breasts heaving, setting the colorful little beads attached to the clamps into motion. Knowing that she wanted to touch, but couldn’t. Her fingers clenched against the chair’s arms, going white. Not because she wanted to get away, he knew. But because she wanted to touch. Wanted it to be her fingers wrapping around th
e base of his shaft, squeezing tightly, then loosening up to cup his balls.
“Emma, unclench your right hand.”
She did so immediately, then blinked as she realized what she'd been doing. She gave him a look that he could interpret as apologetic, even through the gag.
“I wish they were your fingers.”
Chapter Sixteen
Her eyes flashed. The heat he saw there, the want. Oh yeah, she’d think twice before disobeying him again.
“They’re smaller, more delicate. But you always remember that and squeeze me hard when I need it. I like the contrast.” He ran this thumb and forefinger from the base to the head, then circled the crown. “If you were touching me right now, my hands would be free to play with you. Fondle those breasts, tease those nipples.” Needy sounds escaped from her throat.
His right hand fingered the remote next to his thigh where she couldn’t see it. He pressed a button to make the dildo shaft rotate inside her. She moaned, closed her eyes, then immediately popped them open. Returned her gaze to his hand sliding languidly over his cock.
“You won’t come, will you, Emma? Not without permission. My permission. Right?”
She shook her head slowly, without moving her eyes.
“If you did, I’d have to come up with a whole different punishment and that would annoy me.” He added more lube, watching her carefully. When her breathing went choppy and her eyes a bit panicky, he turned off the vibrator completely. She moaned, but relaxed a tiny bit.
“If you were over here, instead of in that chair, you could put your sweet lips around me. I do love those lips. I’d much rather see them stretched over my dick than that gag. How about you? Would you rather have your face stuffed with that rubber ball or me?”
She shook her head. Nodded. Whimpered.
“Ah well. I guess you’ll have to tell me some other time.” He used a different button to turn the rotating beads embedded in the base of the dildo’s shaft on. She jerked, huffed a breath out through her nose. Her fingers were now clenching and unclenching against the chairs arms, and he realized the rhythm matched that of his hand currently wrapped around his cock.
