by Maggie Ryan
"Ohh," she moaned, then gave another shriek as he released the shell, only to clamp it around her right nipple. As that nipple throbbed with the weight of its passenger, her left pulsed as blood rushed to fill it after being compressed.
"I'm so glad you wished to keep this as a souvenir," Garrett said, with a wry grin. "It would have been such a loss of endless possibilities if left lying at the bottom of the lake."
Part of Ariel wished she had allowed him to drop it as her nipples continued to throb, but the secret, dark need in her was thrilled she had retrieved it as it floated to the lakebed.
"But, my dear, I only have but the one shell," Garrett drawled, pulling something from his jeans pocket. "I'm afraid I'll need to continue with these." Her moan was delicious as he slowly twisted the first wheel open on the pair of nipple clamps.
"We can't let this poor nipple feel like it has lost its decoration now, can we?" he asked, chuckling at her barely audible sound of protest. The sound became a moan as he slowly opened the clamp and then closed, it to allow the small teeth to capture her nipple in its metal bite. Watching her face, her eyes closing briefly before opening again, he prepared the other clamp.
"Perhaps we can find another tasty morsel for your shell to enjoy," he went on, removing it and placing the metal clamp in its place. Stepping back, he reached out for the chain connecting the two clamps, giving it a gentle tug. "A bit tighter, I think," he said, as if she needed to hear that her poor nipples weren't suffering quite enough. Giving each wheel a few turns, he compressed the throbbing buds just a bit more before tugging the chain again. This time, she arched towards him, her deep moan letting him know that he had found that perfect, delicate balance between too loose and too tight.
"Much better," Garrett chuckled, tossing the pink shell from one hand to another, watching as Ariel kept her eyes on it as if she were watching the bouncing ball of a tennis match. "Now, tell me, my naughty little mermaid, where do you think your shell should bite next?"
God, this man is a true sadist. Surely he doesn't… he can't think I want that damn thing on any part of me? Her mind might have those thoughts, but it was clear her body was determined to show her that she was the perfect playmate for his kink, as she shuddered in pleasure.
"Wherever you desire, Sir," she answered, her heart racing, her eyes unable to look away from the toy he continued to play with.
"Such a perfect answer," Garrett said with a grin. He stepped forward and pressed his lips lightly against her cheek, ignoring the movement of her head as she sought his lips with her own.
"Oh, not yet," he teased, kissing her other cheek. "I fear your toy is still quite hungry." He reached up to run his hands up her arms until his finger once more tapped against the diamond. "Since you've stolen its prize on order to blatantly show the world that you are mine, perhaps it seeks another." She kept her eyes on his, the look reflected back at her causing her to tremble.
He stepped away again, his eyes raking up and down her body as if trying to consider what to do with the shell. Grinning, he opened it slightly and then attached it to the chain between her breasts. "Hold that for me will you, darling?" he asked, chuckling at her gasp as her clamped nipples adjusted to the additional weight.
Garrett moved across the room again, turning a knob on the wall until Ariel was captured in a circle of light. She watched as he slowly approached her, her nipples attempting to tighten even more at the feral look on his face. Hearing her moan, he spoke. "I was so proud of you when you thanked you mother and sister for decorating your shell," he said, reaching out to give the dangling shell a small push. Another, deeper moan filled the room as his action set the shell in motion, its pull against her trapped nipples more intense. "It might have lost its meal, but see how it sparkles," Garrett went on.
Ariel's eyes were drawn to the shell, bits of light bouncing off the fake jewels her mother and sister had used to decorate it for her. She smiled and felt her skin flush hotly, wondering what they would think if they could see their hard work displayed so lewdly. Her eyes moved to watch as Garrett knelt down before her, his hands moving up the length of her legs until he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties.
"My," he said, as he slowly began to draw them down her legs. "Someone has quite drenched her panties." He adored the fact that her flush deepened, her skin a beautiful pink as he drew her underwear down until they could go no further due to her widely spread legs. Garrett bent closer, lifting his eyes to see past the slightly swinging shell and her clamped nipples to find her eyes. The lust and need were obvious in their green depths, her skin glowing and her teeth capturing her lower lip. "Remember, you are not to cum."
"Oh, God," she whispered, her sex instantly clenching at his reminder even before he bent forward. The first stroke of his tongue had her insides turning to jelly, her hands clenching around the chain that held them, her toes curling. Another stroke had her shaking enough to cause him to lift his hands to cup her buttocks, pulling her against his mouth and the tongue that would most likely cause her to disobey his reminder.
"Pl-please," she whispered, attempting to pull away as she felt her climax building to a peak she was sure she couldn't help but fall over. Her Dom ignored her plea, holding her still, broadening his tongue and licking her from her perineum to her clitoris, every stroke slow and deliberate.
"Sir, I-I can't… oh, God…mercy!" she begged, not wanting him to stop but not wanting to pay the penalty of disobeying him either.
His head lifted, his eyes once more capturing hers. When he slowly licked his lips, she felt her clit jump and had to slam her eyes shut, fighting against the need to explode. She jerked when she felt a fingertip slide between her sopping lips to tap against her swollen clit.
"Ahh, I believe I've found the pearl," he said, and sat back on his heels, watching her eyes fly open in understanding.
"Oh, God, nooo… nooo," she whimpered, as his hand lifted to remove the shell from the chain.
"Oh, yes," Garrett teased, as he pinched the shell open once again. "Everyone knows that pearls are a gift of the sea," he went on, as he brought the shell between her spread legs. "Though my greedy little mermaid wishes to keep both diamonds and pearls to herself, everyone knows exactly where pearls truly belong." His last word ended at the same moment that the shell's teeth captured her bud.
"Ahhh," she squealed, as her pearl was sacrificed in exchange for the ring the shell had given her. How in the hell does he come up with these things? Ariel's skin turned even darker at the imagined shock she would see on the faces of people who never dared to step across the vanilla line. This incredible man is a master. Those poor souls have no idea what they are missing.
"Yes, that's the perfect spot." Garrett gave the shell a pat, loving her sharply indrawn breath as he stood. He walked to the wardrobe and returned, with a pair of scissors in one hand, a leather-tipped riding crop in the other.
"Shall we see if its bite helps you keep from disobeying me?" Drawing the tip of the crop across the tops of her breasts, he asked his next question. "Are you ready to pay for your demerits?" He tapped the crop lightly against first one clamped nipple and then the other as she nodded furiously, hissing at the delicious pain.
She watched as he lowered the crop, and then brought it up to slap against the shell hanging from her clit. "Are you ready to dance for me?"
"Ye… oh, God, yes, Sir," Ariel said, her body more than ready to do whatever he desired.
"Then, let's dance."
Chapter 8
"Ahh, but my love has yet to don her dancing clothes," Garrett said, giving Ariel's lips a lick of his tongue before tucking the crop between her teeth. He bent to one knee as he picked up the scissors, slowly opening them, knowing without looking that her eyes would be locked on them. With one arm around her waist, pulling her close, he slid one blade between her panties and her goose pebbled skin. "Don't take the first step, my love. Remember, it is I who will lead you in the dance," he said, looking up to c
apture her eyes, the absolute trust in hers filling his soul. His hand closed, the distinct snips audible as the shears cut through the cotton fabric.
Garrett slid his fingers along her bared skin before bending forward and giving her hip a kiss. He could feel her shudder beneath his lips, and hear her soft moan as he repeated the action on her other hip until her severed undies fell from her.
Tossing the remnants of what was one of many identical pairs sacrificed in this room aside, he replaced the scissors in the cabinet, returning with a piece of white rope. Moving behind her, he unknotted the shirt and then drew it up her body, effectively binding her arms as the shirt turned inside out to become trapped by her cuffed hands. Wrapping the rope around her arms to keep the shirt from falling in any useless attempt to shield her body, he stood back to admire her. Her entire body was quivering, the movement showing in the slight jingle of the chain of her nipple clamps, and the tantalizing sway of the shell between her legs. It was one of the most erotic sights he had ever seen, his cock obviously agreeing as it again reminded him of its displeasure in being contained.
"I see that you are desperate to perform. You yearn to do far more than sway—your soul is begging to be set free." Taking the crop from her lips, he bent forward and gave her a gentle kiss, knowing she wanted so much more. Pulling away, he smiled. "Do you know what is so wonderful about our dance?" he asked softly, the tip of the crop moving to glide along her stomach, her body again moving just the slightest at the promise of the sensation.
"No?" he said, when she couldn't seem to formulate an answer. "Well, it's the music, you see." He paused, the crop moving to trace across the tops of her breasts, her chest heaving just a little. "We have no need for a radio; the music will come from you, my dear. Your moans, gasps, whimpers and cries are more glorious than any conductor could ever coax from even the finest orchestra. This song will not be the ribald ditty of drunken sailors, will it, my dear? No vulgar, coarse words will fall, no clumsy steps will be taken."
Stepping close, an arm moving around her waist, Garrett pulled her to him, her breasts crushed to his chest. As their eyes locked together, his searched the depths of hers, obviously finding the flash of guilt that told of her understanding that screaming vulgarities was simply not to be condoned. Satisfied, he smiled as he reached up to stroke her outstretched arms, which were trembling with every touch.
"As the music plays, you will dance. You will twirl and twist until you hold every other entranced, all wishing to join you in your dance, but it is only I who will be your partner." His hand moved to stroke her face, his fingers tracing across her lips before stroking her throat. "Ariel, this will be an anthem. Your voice will bring forth a magnificent solo, worthy of all the fantastical Sirens of the sea." His words fell softly, drawing an image in her mind that had her desperate to be free to throw her arms around him, to be in his embrace, never to step away. Garrett's hand went behind her head, holding her immobile as his mouth descended onto hers, the passion in his kiss drawing forth the first note as she moaned softly.
"Ah, the music has begun—and so shall I."
Garrett used the crop to play her overture. He tapped it softly against her breast for several beats before lifting his arm and bringing it down much harder. The music soared for a moment before returning to a softer tone. He used the tip of the rod to draw a line across her stomach, loving her soft whimper of anticipation, before delivering several hard slaps against that line, Ariel's gasps and moans once more changing the song. Walking behind her, he watched as her bottom instinctively clenched, as if reluctant to give up the notes he was determined to draw from them. Grinning, he drew the crop across the center of her buttocks and then drew it up the divide.
"Ohhh, God," she moaned, her body shaking in dreaded anticipation.
"There are no words to this concerto, my dear," Garrett said into her ear, his hot breath drawing another shiver, the crop tapping against her ass. "This opus is played only with various tones." She groaned and arched forward as he began to lay strokes against her back and shoulders. Her sounds changed in direct reflection of the strength of each blow, as well as its expert placement. Pausing, he bent forward, running his hand along her spine, his fingers feeling each slightly raised wheal before he stepped back, satisfied that every mark would be gone before morning.
"What a beautiful instrument you are," he said, moving to kiss her shoulder blade. "I hear the voice of an angel when you sing for me."
Kissing and licking down her spine, raising goose bumps on her skin, he moved to begin again. Garrett knelt on one knee and took her right ankle in his hand, tugging slightly to lift her foot from the floor. The movement caused her to have to attempt to find her balance on one foot, the chain between her breasts moving, the shell once again swaying. Ariel gave her first shriek as the crop beat its rhythm across her sole.
After letting her foot drop, Garret moved the crop slowly up the backs of her legs, caressing and then taking sharp bites out of her calves, the hollows of her knees, and then growing sharper when it reached her thighs.
Ariel jerked forward, her lips pressed tightly together to withhold the sharp note when the first true stroke landed on that highly sensitive place where the curve of her buttock met her thigh. Another, and then a third landed in the same spot, each drawing their own distinctive notes from her.
"Ahh, a deliciously long note with a count of three," Garrett chuckled, as her loud moan continued. A gasp played next as he bent to run his tongue along the red lines he had drawn on her skin. Her gasp grew sharper when the crop landed on the shell between her legs, a gush of cream oozing from the lips of her sex. "Lovely," he said. "It's so kind of you to provide refreshments, my dear."
Several different notes were played as Ariel was driven almost out of her mind by his lips and tongue. Garrett drove her to the very edge, using his tongue to trace around the grip of the shell. He could easily picture her clit, swollen and pulsing inside its trap, as desperate as his cock to be freed—but, no, not yet. When her notes became a single drawn out moan, he moved back, smacking his lips lewdly.
"Delicious, but I must restrain myself," he teased, bending again to lift her other foot to replay the stanza.
Her hands gripping the chain, her body shuddering at the mix of erotic pain fighting against her need to cum, Ariel was in submissive heaven. The caress of the crop, the quick taps, and the three quick lines of fire delivered under her left buttock had her twisting and arching. When he bent to refresh himself again, she feared she would combust. Even as she fought against the urge, she should have remembered that her Dom knew her better than she knew herself. His licks were lighter, his visit to her fountain much shorter than the first. When he drove two fingers into her, she screamed, surging up onto her tiptoes, knowing she would cum at another thrust.
Garrett knew it as well, withdrawing after the single penetration. Standing, he moved to face her, lifting his glistening fingers to her lips.
"It would be rude not to share my refreshments. Open." She opened her lips to accept his dripping fingers, her eyes locked onto his as her tongue swirled around his digits. Her eyes changed as she smiled around his fingers, and she suckled hard, as if to pull him deeper into the wet, hot cavern where his cock often provided her its own unique sustenance. Her deep moan of pleasure and the look of lust in her eyes had his cock jumping, demanding it replace the fingers in her mouth.
"Oh, you are such a naughty, naughty girl," Garrett said, giving her thigh a sharp swat of the crop, making her gasp as he withdrew his fingers. He ran the tip of the crop up her arms, not only to drive her even more insane with the light, quick pops, but allowing him to pause and check her circulation. When she opened her fingers to grip his, silently conveying that she was still okay, he grinned and rewarded her with a kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth to play. She arched into him, her sounds effectively muffled by his mouth but still adding to the song. Releasing her, he bent to whisper in her ear.
"Just a little
longer, but, darling, it is time for your voice to soar. I will hear your aria fill the room." He felt her shudder but also saw the desire in her eyes and the slight nod of her head. Stepping behind her, he lifted the crop high, only to bring it down sharply against her ass.
Fill the room she did, her cries echoing around the walls as he conducted the symphony to which he alone knew the score.
When the last note was played, Garrett gave her a bit of time to recover as he bent to release the cuffs at her ankles. He lifted each foot, giving the sole a kiss as he made sure there was no indication that she had been struck too hard. Massaging her legs gently, he knew that the fine lines would be gone by the morning. Ignoring her ass for a moment, he put his hand on the shell that had done a perfect job in keeping her from cumming.
"Ready?" he asked, and she nodded, taking a deep breath in preparation. She squealed as the shell released her pearl, slightly shocked at the rush of moisture that flowed from her to coat Garrett's hand. "Thank you, my love," he said, "shall we share this last drink of your honey?" As he lifted his hand to her mouth, their tongues dipped and wove around each other, meeting and parting to the steps of their own silent dance as they licked away her cream from his fingers.
Wanting to beg him, to promise to be good every moment of every day if only he'd fuck her, Ariel forced herself to remain quiet. She was almost there—had just a few more minutes of delicious, tortured denial before she would receive her even more fulfilling reward.
The removal of the nipple clamps was much more of a strain for her. They had been tighter, and on her for longer than the shell on her clit. She couldn't hold back a shriek as first one and then the other was removed, almost giving into tears before his mouth descended to kiss and lick each tortured bud until the pain dissipated. He released her arms and then her cuffs, finally removing the shirt to leave her nude. When she began to tremble, he scooped her into his arms and moved to the door. Once they reached the bedroom, he carried her to the bed, laying her gently onto the sheets.
