“…answer, slut.”
Damn, damn, damn. Did he say it was a good answer or a bad one?
“Sorry, Sir,” she mumbled. “I didn’t hear you.”
Another smack with the cane and she winced. Stung was not a good enough word. Her skin was on fire, but she dared not move and risk another switch.
Griff sighed. “I asked if you were certain of that answer.”
“Yes, Sir.” What the hell? She was going to be punished either way.
“All right.”
The cane slapped lightly against her buttocks a few times then clattered onto the top of the sideboard. Mason squatted beside her, one hand held out. “Come on, up you go.”
She took his hand and rose, docilely following as he led her to the bondage bench.
“Bend over, legs spread.”
Emma braced her elbows on the cushioned bench and leaned forward, shuffling her legs apart until the insides of her thighs protested.
Griff set the bowl in front of her. A sharp, spicy scent wafted up, and she wiggled her nose, trying to pinpoint the aroma.
“Part of training is learning to obey and being punished for infractions. Different Masters have different punishment styles.”
Her neck tensed. She did not like the thought of different Masters. She was really attached to these two. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn’t think about good-byes right now.
“Usually being spanked or whipped is sufficient for small wrongdoings such as coming without permission.” Griff chuckled. “In your case, however, it appears those avenues would only heighten your enjoyment.”
She successfully shoved away the momentary sorrow and smiled up at him. “Agreed, Sir.” She bit her lip. “Is that what the cane is for?” She really hoped not. They’d said no blood. That damn Schoolmaster’s Cane looked like it would easily draw blood from her.
“No,” Mason said from behind her. “I was just playing with that. And you.”
“We’re going to try something a little different with you.” Griff flung back the cloth, exposing two white, knob-encrusted stalks of…something. She still couldn’t identify it.
He fished one out and held it up to her eyes. The thing was about as long and big around as a hot dog, except in the middle where it flared a bit. The thing sported knobs here and there, which poked out along its sides.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Finger of ginger, peeled and soaked.”
“Ginger?” She frowned. “What’s it for?”
His grin was lethal. “Punishment, little slut. This will make you think twice about disobeying us again. Since you’re still new to ass play, we’ll use a little lube. But not much.”
She straightened up. Mason’s strong hand to her back shoved her down again. “Maintain your position.”
“I’m not sure about this,” she muttered.
Griff shrugged. “You know how to stop it. Mason, lube her asshole.”
“Yes, Sir,” Mason replied cheerfully.
He pried apart her butt cheeks, and a dribble of cold oil hit her tight hole. She clenched, and he lost his grip.
Smack.
“Naughty girl. If you don’t want the lube…”
“No,” she said. “No, please, use it.”
The thought of anything entering her ass without the slick aid did not sound pleasant at all.
He pulled her cheeks apart again, and his finger rimmed her hole. She inhaled at the rush of pleasure. Once more her nerve endings shot to life. Mason stroked her ass flesh as he reamed the lube in and around her rosebud.
Just as she was really getting into it, he let go.
Griff picked up both pieces of ginger and held them up in front of her. The one on the left was slightly bigger, longer, a bit thicker.
Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades.
“Mason is also going to be punished for coming without permission,” Griff said. “Pick one. Left or right.”
For him or herself?
She wished she knew.
“Right,” she guessed, hoping that would be hers.
Mason appeared in front of the bench, his back to her. His ass was clenched tightly.
Oh hell, he wasn’t looking forward to this either.
Griff nodded and set the larger piece back into the bowl before plucking the bottle of lube from the bench. “I’m sure Mason will appreciate the smaller ginger. Figging is not his favorite thing.”
Damn.
Just like the lottery, she chose wrong again.
“Bend forward, put your hands on your knees,” Griff said, voice harsh and clipped.
Mason complied and shuffled his legs apart. She watched, absolutely fascinated—and a lot turned on—as Griff rubbed the shiny liquid into Mason’s asshole. When his finger disappeared to the first knuckle, she smothered a moan.
Watching them together was incredibly arousing. She loved the way they were so familiar with each other’s bodies. She only wished she could watch more.
Griff pulled his finger out, grabbed the ginger, placed the rounded tip to Mason’s ass, and pushed.
A hiss echoed sharply in the room. Mason’s legs trembled, and his shoulders were as stiff as oak trees.
Griff continued shoving until just the bottom knob stuck out from his hole. He released Mason’s cheeks, and the stump disappeared.
“How’s it feel?”
“Not bad.”
“Yet,” Griff murmured with a knowing grin.
He snatched the larger piece from the bowl and strode behind her. No fanfare, no pleasantries, he simply opened up her cheeks and repeated the process.
The ginger was cool along the sensitive rim of her hole. It slid easily past her sphincter, and she relaxed slightly.
This isn’t so bad.
In front of her, Mason groaned and gyrated his hips. His hands were balled into fists and pressed along his sides.
Griff kept pushing, and the piece filled more and more of her, the knobs bumping along her innards, causing small flares of excitement. Finally the intrusion stilled. Griff twisted the ginger, which made her gasp and rise on tiptoe.
He let go of her butt, patted her cheeks and moved to face her again.
“How’s it feel?”
She blinked. “Not bad.”
Mason gave a strangled gasp and straightened up then immediately bent over again. “Just wait,” he said.
She squeezed her ass experimentally around the ginger plug. Nothing happened. She glanced at Griff with a brow raised. “Uh, Sir?”
He tapped her nose then headed for Mason’s side. “We need to work on your patience, as well, I see.”
He cupped Mason’s butt and thrust upward. The other man howled and snapped straight then cried out again.
Emma frowned. What was wrong?
“What did you do wrong?” Griff asked, voice silky.
“Came without permission,” Mason’s voice gritted out.
Again Griff shoved at the plug, and Emma winced. “Try again.”
“Came without permission, Sir.”
“Better.”
He stepped away and looked at the wall. “It’s only been six minutes. Your ass must have gotten unused to figging.” He stroked his chin. “I’ll have to keep an eye on that from now on.”
Emma squelched an impatient sigh and shifted again on the bench. Oddly enough, the plug wasn’t large enough to do more than tease her with its presence. It was certainly titillating and somewhat interesting. But whatever it was doing to Mason, it wasn’t doing to her.
Somehow, she felt cheated.
Griff whirled and pierced her with a dark gaze, and she realized her frustration and disappointment must have passed through to him.
She swallowed hard and dropped her stare to the bench.
The slide, whoosh, and bang of a drawer opening and closing filled the room, and she risked a peek toward the sideboard.
Griff was already striding in her direction, a long black tube i
n his hand. On top of the tube sat a small baseball-sized globe.
Over his shoulder, he carried more coils of the hemp rope they’d used before and a wide black leather-and-metal harness. Her pussy clenched. While she’d often fantasized about being bound in some way, her innocent brain never conjured anything like the amazing Shibari experience. Being absolutely helpless, immobile, and stretched wide open excited her greatly.
She smothered a grin. This was going to be fun.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a slight burn started around her asshole. The grin slid into an uneasy frown, and she clenched her cheeks, then sucked in a sharp breath as the burn turned into a bigger singe.
What the hell?
Griff set the globe on the bench, and she checked out Mason. Sweat beaded his face and rolled down his back and over his sleek ass and legs. His calf muscles pulsed as he shifted from foot to foot.
The burn in her ass grew stronger, but she had no time to think about it. Griff grabbed her hair and yanked her upright. He shook out the rope then dropped them to the floor. He unfolded the harness and wrapped it around her waist with quick, efficient motions. The wide leather belt cinched her waist and brushed the undersides of her breasts. She took a deep breath, relieved to find it easy enough to do.
Large D-rings dangled like belt loops around the leather, and he tugged at them hard, nearly jerking her off balance.
“Arms behind you, fingers cupping your elbows.”
As she complied, the movement shifted the ginger in her butt, and she hissed. “God, that stings,” she said.
Griff chuckled as he wrapped her arms and tits in the same manner Mason had done. “It’s supposed to sting. And it’ll get a lot worse before you come down.”
“Come down?” she squeaked, suddenly very nervous.
“Yep.” He tugged on the ropes. They didn’t give, but there was no pain, either. “Good. I’m not the master rigger Mason is, but they’ll hold you. Come here.”
He led her to where the hook glinted in the ceiling. “Stay.”
She swallowed as he fetched a chair and called Mason to his side.
More ropes appeared, and Griff climbed on the chair to thread them through the hooks and rings. They dangled around her.
Her ass was really burning now. The ginger finger in her butt was hot, spicy, and painful like a constant stream of flame, and each time she clenched a muscle, it roared hotter and deeper. Tears bit at her eyes.
There was a tug on her arms and then her waist as Griff threaded her with ropes. “What are you doing?” she finally asked. She was already going to be punished, might as well find out what was going on.
He slapped her ass, the fire leaped deeper in her bowels, and she cried out.
Griff turned her head. “Hurts?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“Unpleasant, Sir. I don’t like it.”
“Perfect. Lie over Mason’s lap and remain still.”
She bit her lip and shook her head to dislodge the drop of sweat hovering at her eyes. Mason looked sympathetic and just as pained as she was. He took her weight with a muffled groan and Griff quickly trussed her legs, then more tugs from the rope.
He squatted in front of her, face stern but alive with intense passion. Despite the pain flaming her ass, a corresponding excitement built in her pussy.
“You are being punished for coming without permission. You will hang for fifteen minutes.”
“Hang?” she yelped.
“Because you are unused to the rigors of this position, I will not gag you. If it truly becomes too much, tell me red. But only if you really mean it and not just because you don’t like it. You’re not supposed to enjoy or be aroused by this discipline, little slut. Do you understand?”
She wanted to protest. “Will you tell me what you’re going to do?”
He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Using the ropes and the harness, I am going to hang you from the ceiling. You will be about eight feet off the ground.”
“I’ll fall!”
“No, you won’t. The hooks are embedded in studs of the ceiling. They are sturdy and have held women much larger than you.”
Her heart pinched. She didn’t like the thought of other women in the house or in this play room. She definitely did not like the idea of any other woman with Griff and Mason.
Her jaw set mulishly.
He tweaked a nipple and she met his eyes again. “They’ve also held Mason. Does that make you feel better?”
No, but she supposed it didn’t matter.
“I understand,” she said.
He rose and nodded at Mason. “Remain as still as possible,” Griff said.
Her heart ran at triple speed, and she concentrated on breathing through her panic as the ropes went taut. Her shoulders bent back with the force of the pull, and her legs buckled upward.
Her entire body was as stiff and taut as a wooden bow, and she trembled like a leaf in a wind storm.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
The floor dropped away.
Her stomach rose to her throat, and she prayed she would not humiliate herself and lose her lunch.
“Breathe,” Mason murmured, his hands on her waist to steady her as she was lifted up.
“Easy for you to say.”
“I’ve been up there. You’re not going to like it, but you did bring this on yourself.”
The ropes jerked, and she screamed a little but didn’t fall. Her heart refused to cooperate and settle down, and more sweat beaded on her face and down her body. She swayed and prayed as the ropes continued to haul her upward toward the ceiling. Mason’s hands fell away, and she closed her eyes tight.
The creak and squeak stilled, and the upward pressure stopped.
“Open your eyes,” Griff commanded.
She cracked one open and looked down at him. A wave of dizziness assailed her, and she groaned. “I don’t like this.”
A satisfied expression crossed his face. “Good. How do you feel physically? Are your arms and legs angled too awkwardly? Any pain from them?”
She didn’t want to wiggle any body part to find out, but she took stock of them. “No, Sir, everything’s fine.”
“Good girl. Now, you’ve got twelve more minutes to hang there.”
She whimpered.
Griff tweaked her nipple. “That was the easy part, little slut.” He held up the globe. “This is called a violet wand. Are you familiar with them?”
She shook her head, eyes going wide as that small movement threatened to start her in motion. “No, Sir.”
“It’s similar to the TENS unit, but a little more forceful. Ah, I see by your expression you don’t care for that. Guess what? That’s the idea.”
He flicked on the wand, and a crackle of purple electricity arced through the globe.
Emma recoiled and ended up swaying above him.
Fear and adrenaline competed for dominance, and fear was rapidly winning. She really, really did not like being up here. If she fell and hit the ground, she’d break bones at the minimum. She should tell him red.
She bit her lip and looked down at his expectant face. He was enjoying her discomfort. His hard cock was evidence of that. But beneath the enjoyment, concern shadowed his eyes. And he stayed very close, as if he would catch her should she actually fall.
The ropes stilled again, and she breathed a bit easier. Hell, even the pain in her ass seemed to be lessening, but she wasn’t about to share that with him.
No, she wouldn’t say red, nor would her safe word cross her lips. She trusted him. She trusted both of them.
She deserved her punishment, and she would take it, so they could get back to the fun stuff.
She hoped.
The globe flared, and she looked down just in time to watch Griff lift it to her breast. A light sizzle popped the air as he touched her stiff nipple. A zing whipped over the sensitive bud, then another. He moved to her other tit and repeated
the procedure, then slowly trailed the globe between her tits, back and forth.
The sizzle increased, the tingle harsh and almost painful.
She moaned and wiggled, setting off another round of pain in her ass.
The rope swayed, her heart raced, and tears once more stung her eyes.
“I’ve roped you with your legs closed so you’ll feel the ginger more,” Griff said as he moved down her body. “But I think you’ll get the idea when I do this to your little cunt.”
He pressed the globe to her bare pussy, and she swore barbed tongues lapped at her.
She cried out, and he pulled it away. He placed it back before once more pulling the globe away.
Emma could not hold her whimpers as he moved around and over her body, scoring her in various places, always keeping her off balance. The slight zap wasn’t exactly painful so much as startling. But coupled with being trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, she found she didn’t like it at all.
“Please, Sir,” she said. “Please.”
He flicked off the globe and twisted one of her nipples. “Please what, slut?”
“I won’t come again without permission, I swear.”
He chuckled and switched his attention to the other nipple. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep slut.”
“Three minutes, Griff,” Mason said from the chair.
His face was no longer red or sweaty. Now, he, too, wore the same lustful passion that still graced Griff’s expression.
“Not much longer. You’ve done well for a first-timer in suspension. Are you scared?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He caressed her cheek, regret in his eyes. “It’s a necessity.”
Mason rose and tickled her sides. She jerked and wailed as the ropes set to moving again.
This time, Mason stilled her, and she breathed a sigh, giving him a look of thanks. He winked back.
“Maybe it would help if we told you what we’re going to do to you once you get down from there?”
She licked her lips. “Yes, please.”
Griff cupped her tits and dug his fingers into them, then released and gripped again. “I love the way your tits look in the rope bondage, Emma. I might keep you just like that once you come down. How’s your ass?”
She squeezed her butt cheeks hesitantly then breathed a huge sigh of relief. The burn was gone. “Feels fine, Sir.”
Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 18
