Black Leather and New Boundaries

by Adrianna Dane

  A firm hand curved around her nape and brought her attentions back to the dungeon and to Master. She knew his touch, would not have mistaken it for another. And then, of course, there was his scent. That was unmistakable as well.

  He drew her back slowly, drawing her to earth, and Ren was so aware of his hand as that first touch—so warm—pressed against her flesh. She jumped, then settled. Somehow sensing she had returned into her own body, her awareness of him complete, slowly, he drew two fingers down along her black rose-tattooed spine, then rested both hands on her ass cheeks. He slid his thumbs along her crease. Then back up again, to slide down the front of her abdomen, down to her pussy. He brushed across her clit, then his thumbs pressed between her labia. A long, thick finger entered her pussy. And then the matching digit of the other hand joined the first, stretching her, wiggling inside her, exploring her. And then they slid out and she felt so empty. Without sight or sound, all she could do was focus on his touch, and the pleasure became so intense she could barely stand it.

  He used his fingers to outline the small gothic black initials tattooed on her ass cheeks. The “C” on her left cheek; the “B” on her right cheek.

  A new scent assaulted her senses, but she couldn’t for a moment quite place it. The scent grew stronger. And then she felt something at the entrance of her pussy. Like a cock, but it wasn’t human anatomy. He pressed it between her lips. It opened her, stretched her, its girth fairly round, and it entered her. In and in it went. Long like a dildo, but she didn’t think it was that. The surface seemed lightly bumped along the vertical length and it caused her a great deal of pleasure as it was pushed deeper and deeper into her vagina. Once deeply entrenched, Master twisted it back and forth. He flattened his palm across her opening, keeping the object firmly lodged inside her. He flicked her sensitive clit. Then he pinched her ringed nipple—her signal to come.

  And she did, her juices coating the object inside her as she spasmed around the solid elongated object buried deeply inside her pussy.

  Ren felt Master attach the harness around her hips, the flat part drawn up from the back between her legs, attached at the front, securing the object inside her. And then he left her. The aroma in the air intensified and she finally realized what it was. Cucumber. She recalled dinner several weeks past. The salad, the cucumbers, and the fact that she’d remarked that she didn’t really care for them, and had picked them off the salad and set them to the side. Cucumbers had not been on her list.

  Creed had not said anything at the time, but obviously he’d made note of her actions. And now a cucumber filled her pussy, it had made her come, and obviously given her a great deal of pleasure. The leather band between her legs loosened. She felt stretched around the object, but then her thoughts turned to other things, as Master’s hands were at her ass, and his coated fingers pressed into her anus. Without further ado, another object was pressed to that small, sensitive opening, rather smaller than the one in her pussy, but still of the same texture. Pressed into, twisted, screwed deep. With his other hand he reached around to her pussy—to her clit, flicked it. Then reached up and twisted her nipple.

  She came even as she took the object in her ass deeper. And then using the strap, he secured that object inside her, too. She had to wonder what would come next. Filled and stretched in both her orifices with cucumbers that had doubly caused her to climax—doubly given her pleasure.

  Then she felt something moist on her skin, and the stronger fragrance of cucumbers wafted over her. He massaged what must have been a lotion deeply into her skin. All over her skin. Head to foot. And then he left her. Of course, she didn’t know for how long, but she hung there, filled, scenting the fragrance of cucumber as her skin absorbed the lotion. The only thing in her mind was the shape, the feel, the texture, the scent of cucumbers. And just as he obviously wanted, her mind turned to the erotic.

  It was some time later that he again returned to her. He twisted the cucumber inside her pussy and made her come. He screwed the cucumber in her ass and made her come again. He spread more of the lotion all over her body, concentrating on her breasts, taking particular care of her nipples.

  Time and time again he brought her to climax using only the vegetables, until there came a time when she thought she fell in love with the cucumbers inside her. She felt she’d become a part of them, her sex scent now so intertwined with the vegetable’s scent. Coming again and again. Her master, her pleasure, his pleasure. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to love the cucumber, and so, finally, she did. She was one with it as he wanted her to be. He had wanted her to see how much pleasure she was missing by her distaste for the cucumber in her salad. What senses she was missing. But he didn’t force her to eat it, he didn’t show the least sign of disapproval. He taught her the pleasure in a far different fashion.

  And she understood what he desired from her. And it was a much more pleasurable way of discovering what would please Master than by him just saying, “I want you to eat this to please me.” This was so very beautiful and she loved him all the more for his handling of the situation.

  One more time the cucumbers brought her to climax. If she could have smiled, she would have. Ren’s whole body, physical and emotional, embraced her master’s will.

  It was at dinner late on Sunday, just before Ren was scheduled to return to her apartment, that Creed prepared dinner, with a tossed salad as appetizer. He used a light vinaigrette dressing. She noticed there were no cucumbers in the salad. But then he returned with two plates—one for her and one for him. He placed one at the side of her salad plate, one at his. The plates contained sliced cucumbers.

  He didn’t tell her to eat them, but he picked up a slice from his plate and bit into it. She picked up one from her plate. She bit into it. She was surprised—or maybe she shouldn’t have been—that it tasted of her as well as cucumber. Her juices gathered, as her memory of the night in the dungeon blossomed. She stared at him, and he looked back, with little expression on his face. He finished his cucumbers. By the time she finished hers, she was close to coming. And she’d fallen in love with the taste of cucumbers.

  He got up and came to her. He stripped her and spread her across the table, shoving dishes across the surface. He opened his fly, released his hard cock, then picked up the vial of oil they’d used for the salad and poured it over her pussy, just as he would the greens. And then he came into her and fucked her deeply and powerfully. She arched and reached for the edges of the table. He lodged himself inside her, then lifted her up, to sit at the edge of the table. He looked into her eyes.

  “Tell me how you feel about cucumbers now,” he commanded. He flicked her clit.

  Ren’s eyelids fluttered closed. “I love them, Sir.”

  “Come now.”

  And she did.

  Her return to her apartment was delayed as they retired to his big bed draped and covered in black silk.

  She curled into his arms. She hated for the weekend to end, but knew it must. She also knew the separation kept her keenly on the edge, always eager for the next time they would be together. She never knew quite what to expect, and always loved Master’s surprises.

  “I thought I hated cucumbers. Ever since I was a child when I was forced to eat them.”

  He stroked her hair. “You never really tasted them before. No one taught you how to enjoy them properly. It should be a sensual experience. As a child you wouldn’t have learned that.”

  “But some people enjoy them almost from the start. I never did.”

  “Some people have to learn to appreciate. You’ve been denied for so long, you need to retrain yourself to experience food in a different and more extraordinary way.”

  Ren gazed up at him. “You make me see many things in different and extraordinary ways, Sir. I love that you do that. You make it all seem so right.”

  “That’s the way it should be, Ren. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But I will attempt to seduce you to my way of thi
nking.” He grinned down at her.

  He spread her legs and then slipped into her wet pussy, settling inside her. He leaned forward to possess her mouth, kissing her deeply. He lifted up and looked down at her, his cock still stretching her. He cupped her breasts, kneading them. He rolled, and she came up over him. His cock sliding in even deeper to an achy sweet depth, he tugged on her nipples. Then he gripped her hips and pulled her down against him even more, holding her there.

  “You’re mine,” he said.

  Her climax was so close, she wanted to grind against him, wanted him to rub her ringed clit. He tugged at the ring almost as though he read her thoughts. She gasped and then arched. She wanted to come so badly.

  “Master!” She moaned with the need.

  He thrust his hips. “Come, Ren. Come for me.”

  And she did, even as she screamed.

  It took time for her to re-acclimate to her apartment in the city after her intense weekend with Creed. It always did. But she felt refreshed and invigorated as she always did after spending time with Master. Though her body was sore, she felt calm and content.

  He gave her independence, he gave her time to think, to live every facet of her life to the fullest. He didn’t try to overpower and unduly control her—he didn’t try to crush her. He gave her an opportunity to become everything she could be.

  At first she had been resistant to the apartment, but soon understood the need for it. And now it became a part of her personal ritual.

  The phone rang as she got into the bubble bath and she answered it, cradling it between shoulder and chin.

  “Hello, Sir.” She smiled contentedly as she leaned back in the water, a hand going to her pussy.

  “I’m on my way to the airport,” he said. “I won’t be able to call you while I’m away. You won’t forget me while I’m gone?”

  “Never,” she said. “I’ll miss you terribly.”

  This was her life and not a glimmer of regret flickered in her mind, as with her thumb she rubbed her clit.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m in the bath. It relaxes me before I go to bed. It will be lonely without you here.”

  She heard the slam of a car door. She heard him give directions to the cab driver. There was a pause and she waited, leaning back, her eyes closed. She hated to let him go. She heard the car rev, then the blare of a car horn.

  “Come for me, Ren,” he said, his voice deep and velvety smooth. Oh, God, how she was going to miss him. “Scream for me. It’s all I’ll have for the next long weeks.”

  And so she did, her body convulsing, her scream echoing back at her.

  And then the line went dead, as her orgasm rocked through her.

  * * *

  Welcome home. She saw him first in the antique beaded Venetian mirror hanging over the bed. He looked thinner, his jaw shadowed, his eyes haunted in some way. Ren wondered if it was just a trick of the lighting. She wanted to turn, to climb off the bed and go to him. She knew better. Instead, she maintained her position, and clasped her hands tighter behind her head.

  There was such desperation in his look as his gaze met hers in the mirror. With a certain measured deliberation he stretched one of her arms out and bound it with the cuff swinging from the bedpost. Then he did the same with the other. Now both her arms were stretched above her.

  He cupped her chin and angled her head back. His jaw was scratchy against her skin. It felt different, it felt earthy. He ground his mouth against hers. He smelled of sand and desert. The muscles in her arms were stretched taut.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said in a deep, scratchy voice as though he hadn’t used his voice in a long time—or maybe over-used it. But he didn’t give her time to think about it too extensively. His hands cupped her breasts, kneaded them roughly. He kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck, and she felt so much hunger behind his possession. He pulled her to her feet so she balanced on the wide baseboard, then pushed her legs to each side and bound each ankle. His hands roamed over her back, her ass, her thighs, her calves. The vehemence with which he touched her body left her aching and fighting for breath.

  He moved to the side and opened the concealed vertical door embedded into the columns at each corner of the bed. He adjusted the chains, drawing her arms tight, her ankles pulled wider, until Ren was spread wide. Creed, finally satisfied, closed the compartments. For what seemed a long time he left her hanging there.

  Ren felt a sense of great urgency to his movements. Yet he was deliberate. He unlocked the side of the baseboard and swung it around. He stared up at her, her breasts upthrust, rings glittering. He fingered the ring through her clit. From beneath the baseboard, he unwound a slender silver chain with a clip attached at the end. He fastened it to the ring in her clit, then tightened the chain just enough to draw a gasp from her. Again he reached beneath the board where there were two more chains. He drew them up and fastened them through her nipple rings, then drew them taut.

  “Do you feel that, Ren? Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”

  She could barely get the words out, any movement and she would feel it deeply, so deeply inside.

  “I missed you very much, Master.”

  He pulled off his black T-shirt and slung it across the room. He had tanned while away, so much darker, and the mat of dark hair covering his chest almost seemed to blend in with the richness of his swarthy flesh. Big and beautiful, the black khakis hung low on his hips. She moved, just slightly, yet felt every sensation drive through her, bound as she was.

  He walked to the black leather toy chest resting on the other side of the spacious bedroom. Before opening it, he turned and looked at her, his expression unreadable. She thrust her breasts forward, felt the chains tug against the action. A measure of sharp pleasure poured through her. By his expression he measured her reaction, absorbed it, and she sensed his pleasure as he watched her wiggle, drawing on more and more sensation, causing them herself, for him. The nipple rings were now so taut her nipples stretched tight. He watched her intently, his gaze glittering like black diamonds.

  “Do I please you?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion. She lifted slowly to the balls of her feet, pulled at the rings not just in her nipples, but in her clit as well, tugging her clit long, and the ache shot through her pussy arrowing upward.

  “Enough,” he said.

  She stopped moving, but didn’t relieve the pressure.

  He walked back to her and stared up at her. “You’d rip them free if I told you to do it.”

  She stared down at him, tears just brimming. “Creed. I’d do anything for you. Anything. Tell me what you want. I’ve missed you so much. I need you desperately.”

  He stepped to the side of the wooden platform and using another set of controls, he lowered the center platform downward until it reached the floor. The columns angled in upon themselves, hinged at their center, drawing her arms crosswise above her head. He unhooked the chains from her breasts and from her clit. He thrust two fingers into her wet pussy. Ren shuddered with pleasure.

  As suddenly as Creed entered her, he withdrew. He went to the bed and picked up the black leather flogger. He then drew it down over her breasts, turned it, and pressed the handle between her labia. It was a shallow penetration and Ren wished he’d go deeper.

  “Please, Master.” But honestly she couldn’t tell exactly what she begged for. The flogging, the fucking, or to be allowed to come. She wanted it all.

  He pulled the flogger away and then he moved behind her. He brought the flogger down across her shoulders again, and then again. He stopped, caressed her. Then the straps came down upon her again, and again. He stopped to stroke her ass, her thighs. He pressed his fingers into her pussy again. He fingered her clit. He whipped her again, this time not stopping for a measure of ten.

  She felt his heat at her back as he drew in closer. Felt his hand upon her neck. “Scream for me, Ren. Scream loud.”

  He moved in front of her. The flogger came
down across her breasts again. She screamed. He did it over and over until she lost count. She screamed, and in screaming she released the tight hold she had upon herself. Her soul flew as the flogger landed upon her thighs, coming up between her legs, again across her breasts.

  She screamed and screamed and screamed. The ecstasy was almost more than she could bear.

  And then he was there again. She smelled the oil, felt his fingers easing into her aching pussy. Two…three…four—his fingers coned, stretching her. She panted, she gasped. He worked her for such a long time before he finally pushed deep into her. So very deep and opening her wide.

  When she came, the sensation was complex, magnificent. She writhed on his hand, her whole body quivering. The scream deep and long, was ripped from her very soul. And the world went black as she soared higher than she ever had before.

  When she awoke she found herself cradled in Creed’s arms, stretched out on the bed. He held her close against his heart. He sensed immediately when she awoke and held a bottle of water to her lips. She drank deeply. When she was finished, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He set her on a stool, then proceeded to draw her a bath.

  She watched, exhausted, her whole body aching, her flesh decorated in rich red from the flogging. Her mind was quiet, but she couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.

  Finally, bubbles thick in the tub, the air fragrant and scented with gardenias, Creed shrugged out of his scuffed black boots and his trousers. He picked her up and then settled them both into the tub where they soaked for a very long time.

  It seemed hours later that she again awoke in the bed, but this time she was alone. Slowly she slid off the covers and padded down the hall and into the living room. Then she saw the door to the terrace was ajar. She stepped outside and, searching in the dark, finally saw him stretched out on the lounger, a bottle of lager clutched in one hand. He was naked, all furred animal and intelligent man combined. He glanced at her and then made room for her on the lounger.