by Sabrina York
His palm drifted over his handiwork. She flinched as it rasped over her sensitized flesh. His handprint was no longer distinguishable in the glowing red landscape of her ass.
He delivered five more smacks in quick succession just to hear her sighs and then turned his attention to the sopping nest between her legs. Her cunt, her thighs, were smeared with cream. He found her clit between the swollen folds of her labia and circled it. She moaned.
“Do you like this, Tess?” he whispered into her ear. He drew in the scent of her sweat and tears and then, unable to resist, kissed, lapped her forehead. She was damp there too. “Do you?”
“Y-yes Master.”
He toyed with the throbbing nub. “Would you like me to spank you here?”
“Ah! Yes Master.”
He didn’t miss her shudder. Hell, he didn’t miss anything. Not one tiny detail. “Spread your legs farther apart.”
She whimpered and complied, nudging her thighs wide. Her muscles tightened, preparing for the slap to her clit she knew was coming. So he teased her, toyed with her until she relaxed, until she moaned in pleasure.
When she didn’t expect it, when she was panting and twitching with delight, he landed the blow directly on her open, sopping pussy. The jolt of electricity sizzling through her body shot through his as well. Her cry was garbled, wrenched from her gut.
He followed the smack with a grinding, circular stroke. She spread her legs even more, inviting him to continue. To torment her more.
And he wanted to. He wanted more.
He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to fuck her so bad he could practically taste his own arousal.
But training before pleasure. With any luck—or perhaps skill—they would be one and the same.
He patted her bottom. “Stay put.”
Reluctantly, he made his way to the bar and poured himself a drink. He needed the space, the distance from her weeping body, from her scent. He needed to remain in command.
The thick cream coating his fingers didn’t help.
Confusion flickered over her face at his retreat. Good. Let her wonder. He leaned against his desk and pretended to riffle through some papers. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
It was his own voice mail but she didn’t need to know that. Quivering, she perched over the couch cushions with her legs splayed wide and her arms immobile over her head. He watched her from the corner of his eye as he pretended to have a long, drawn-out conversation with his voice mail. It continued long after the beep.
He really shouldn’t test her like this. He knew he shouldn’t. She was a virgin. She was new to this. But he couldn’t help himself. When she didn’t whimper, didn’t shift, didn’t complain, an odd warmth trickled through his gut.
Yes, she was a virgin. She was new to this. She’d never been trained. But somehow, instinctively she knew.
Why this thought annoyed him, he couldn’t say.
He left her there for half an hour, hoping against hope she wouldn’t disobey him and move. Hoping against hope she would. An excuse to punish her, really punish her, would be sublime.
This break was meant to test her resolve—and to calm the fire in his blood. Unfortunately, it had no effect on the latter. In fact, her unwavering compliance—posed in an uncomfortable position, unsure and wary—only stoked his hunger.
In the end, he was the one who broke.
He stormed back over to the couch and without a word hooked a delicate leather leash to her collar. He tugged and she followed. Agony scored him, sliced right through his gut.
“Come on,” he muttered, yanking harsher than he probably should, leading her on her hands and knees to his workbench.
He’d been fantasizing about Tess for months. He’d developed very intricate scenarios for her torment. How annoying that the moment was now here and he was a bundle of impatience. It was all Jared could do to cling to his composure. He had to stick to the plan.
He had to know.
“Up.” He pulled on the leash until she stood before him.
Damn. She was delicate and small. When standing, she came no higher than his shoulder, giving him the sense she was still on her knees before him. That she would always be on her knees before him, no matter where they were. It was a very seductive thought. For a Dom.
“Onto the table.”
She glanced at him but didn’t hesitate, levering herself onto the narrow bench.
“Lie down.”
She obeyed. Silently. Immediately. He tried not to let that irritate him. The desire to make her resist, force her to resist, clawed at him. She instinctively spread her legs, mimicking the split in the wood, which provoked him further.
He laid her leash along the length of her body, threaded it through her slit then through the split in the table. He pulled it tight and attached it to one of the rings below. She winced as the leather gouged past her cunt lips and sawed at her clit but she didn’t complain.
Her nipples caught his attention. They were distended and swollen in the rings of her harness. He couldn’t resist bending his head and sucking first one and then the other into his mouth. They were like ripe cherries. As he nibbled, she squirmed, which appeased his howling soul—a bit.
He’d never been so torn with a partner. On the one hand, he craved her complete submission. On the other, he ached for her to defy him. The torment was delicious. Either way, he got what he wanted. Her cunt clenching around his weeping cock.
Jared determinedly banished the thought. For the moment. There was still much work to be done before her first session was complete.
He had to focus.
He found the leather strap attached to the head of the table and handed it to her. Her brow quirked.
“Attach the hook to your wrist restraints.” He didn’t bother to disguise his annoyance. She should have already known what he wanted, shouldn’t she?
She struggled to attach the hook to one restraint and then the other. It took a while because frankly it was a difficult task. He could have done it for her but that was hardly the point.
When she took a little too long, he smacked her hip. “Hurry.”
Yes. That did it. She quickly found the right angle and successfully clipped both her wrist restraints to the strap. Without hesitation, he pulled it taut, forcing her arms up over her head. He lashed the leather to a fitting beneath the table.
She could wiggle and squirm but she would not escape.
Her eyes were glazed, her lashes flecked with tears. Her lips, parted as they were meant to be, were damp. Lust, rampant and wild, racked him. Did he, he wondered, have the discipline to go through with this? When she was helpless there before him with her lips parted and her cunt exposed. And so incredibly wet.
He set his teeth and manacled her to the table, spreading her legs. He stepped back to inspect her.
Oh God. He really shouldn’t have.
The sight was far too tempting.
For as she lay there—bound hand and foot, staring at him as she had been commanded—a glob of arousal eased its way around the leather leash binding her cunt.
Jared nearly came right then.
Chapter Four
With great difficulty, Tess kept her eyes on Jared, on the severe planes of his face, the tight muscles, the naked hunger. She tried not to move, because the slightest bobble pulled the leash tighter, sawed at her sanity. She was preternaturally aware of the telling pressure at her wrists and ankles, evidence of unyielding restraints. The sheer helplessness of her position heated, melted some frozen part of her core.
Had she ever been so aroused?
Lying splayed before Jared was, without exception, the most thrilling experience of her life. She whimpered and a pulse twitched in his cheek. Without a word, he stormed back to his desk and took a long, deep swig of his drink. And stared broodingly at her.
She bit at the smile teasing her lips. Yes, she was helpless, bound before him, but she held every card. She closed her eyes and reveled in the know
ledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Open your eyes.”
She flinched as he spoke into her ear, his hot breath on her cheek. How had he come so close without her noticing? Her lids flew open and she found him standing to her side, a short whip tight in his fist. The leathers dangled ominously over her breast.
“Never close your eyes unless you are explicitly commanded to. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The lash caught her at unawares. The slender strands of the whip landed on her swollen nipples and she cried out.
“Yes what?” This, he hissed through his teeth.
“Yes Master.”
“You disappoint me, Tess. You should know those two simple rules by now.” The lash fell again and again. She writhed against it, pulling the leash over her cunt even tighter. “And part your lips.”
“Yes Master.” She wet them for good measure and was pleased to see he tracked the movement.
He dandled the whip over the throbbing lips of her pussy, holding her gaze. The soft leather teased at her sensitive flesh. “Do you agree you should be punished?”
“Y-yes Master.”
Before the words passed her lips, the whip fell directly on her cunt. And again. Shivers of delight took her. Her orgasm was close. All she had to do was grind against the leash and she would come.
But she didn’t. She knew better.
But God she wanted to. More than anything.
The torment, the hunger, the heat was more than she could bear.
“I’m going to taste you now, Tess.”
Her cunt quivered at his words.
“You are not to come, do you understand?”
“Yes Master.”
“You may beg. You may plead, but until I tell you expressly that you may succumb, you must hold back.”
“Yes Master.”
She felt his heat first then the damp wash of his breath. And then—oh God!—his tongue. He licked her slit gently, teasingly. She desperately tried to hold her hips still but couldn’t help a tiny wiggle. He delved deeper. She shivered as he lightly skated along the length of her wet lips then dabbled in. He licked the length of the leather, letting his tongue spill over the sides. The dual sensation on her throbbing nub was excruciating.
She whimpered and twitched and then, as he continued, began to writhe. With her movements, her wet clit slipped its bondage and popped out on one side of the leather. Jared caught it immediately with his teeth and nibbled. She cried out, a garbled sound, biting her lip against the urge to come, against the urge to beg.
He released the tight tether over her clit and tossed the leash to the side. It landed on her hip. The dampness was cool against her heated skin. Before she had a chance to reflect on the sensation, he was there again, at her clit again, drawing it into his mouth and sucking it fully in.
A tiny orgasm took her. She tightened her muscles against it, straining against the restraints holding her hands and feet in place, desperately trying to quell the wave building in her body, swamping her with need.
When the fat handle of the whip nestled into her opening, she could no longer hold back. “Please. Please, Jared. Let me come!”
He stilled. “What did you call me?”
A shard of dread, a sharp anticipation, sliced through her at his tone. “M-master. I meant Master.”
He stood and leveled her with a dark frown. “You’re asking for more punishment, aren’t you?” He raked his fingers through the curls surrounding her cunt when she didn’t answer. “Aren’t you?”
Tess shuddered. No. She didn’t want more punishment. She couldn’t bear it. But she couldn’t say no. “Y-yes Master.”
His eyes glittered as he leaned closer and fiddled with one of the rings surrounding her nipples. With a sharp snap, he made an adjustment, closing the circle until it was tight around her throbbing nub. She whimpered at the sight of her pinched peak. The sensation nearly incapacitated her. He quickly adjusted the other and, for good measure, gave both aching buds several quick lashes with the whip.
As though he couldn’t resist, he followed each punishment with a kiss and caress. His mouth dampened her nipples and they puckered even more.
He rubbed her clit. “I wish I had a clamp for this,” he murmured, plucking at the engorged bundle.
The tightness grew, shooting from her nipples to her clit and back as he rained torment upon her. When he finally settled his mouth between her legs again, she nearly wept. She wanted him there, sucking her, lapping at her, plying her with pleasure. This time when the handle of the whip nudged her cunt, she didn’t say a word. Held herself utterly still.
She wanted it, needed it, deep inside.
She remembered the vision of Madame Monique fucking herself with her crop, she remembered wishing Jared was doing the same to her. And now he was. The thought consumed her as the head of the whip eased into her cunt and filled her.
“Do you like that?” he whispered.
“Ah, yes!”
He eased it back out and though she tried with all her might to hold it in, she couldn’t.
“Ah, yes, what?” He slipped it back in and she groaned. So good. So, so good. But she wanted more. More.
“Yes Master.” It was an instinctual response now because her brain no longer functioned.
As he moved the wand in and out of her dripping channel, he tormented her clit with his thumb. His attention was fixed firmly on her face.
“No coming, Tess,” he said. His voice was strained with a determined lilt. And though he cautioned her against it, she suspected he planned to lead her to the crest and see her fall.
Indeed his thrusts became frantic, deeper, more varied, against this wall and that as though he was searching, searching for something…
And he found it. Even as he reached out to pinch her nipples, the head of the rod hit its target, the bundle of weeping nerves deep in her cunt. He found it and once he realized he had, he stroked it. Ruthlessly.
His expression was ruthless too. His nostrils flared and his eyes burned.
“No coming, Tess.” A chant. He repeated it with each desperate, devious swipe. “No coming.”
“Please! Please, Master! Let me come!” she wailed. Her body writhed with need; she trembled at the effort of holding back. And her control was slipping, sliding, falling.
“No coming.” Pinch. Tweak. Flick. “No coming…” Thrust.
And she came. Like a glorious summer rain, she came and came and came, twitching and howling and clutching at the wand shoved deep in her womb.
He eased the whip handle slowly in and out and in again, drawing out the sweet agony, stretching her on the rack of her passion.
When she finished, he slipped the rod from her cunt and dropped it on the table. He gently thumbed her nipples as, slowly, she regained her sanity.
Her lungs heaved like bellows but his breathing wasn’t steady either.
He perched on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. It occurred to her, while he’d made her come quite raucously on his table, he was still fully dressed. She itched to bare him.
“You came without permission, Tess.”
She bit back the childish quip hovering on her lips. You made me was hardly an appropriate response in this situation. But he had.
“Don’t you think you should pay for that?”
“Yes Master.”
“Hmm. Yes. I think so too.” He unlocked her ankle restraints, unlashed her arms and helped her sit up, caressing her skin as though his restless fingers had minds of their own. “Are you okay?”
“Yes Master.”
“Good. Because we’re not through yet.”
No. She should think not. She glanced down at his groin, at the unmistakable bulge. A silent sentinel. There was a damp spot on his jeans.
Gently, he tipped her chin back up. “Eyes on me, Tess.”
And damn, his eyes were beautiful. She wanted to sink into them. “Yes Master.”
“Do you want another spanking?”
She froze, unsure how to respond. No. She didn’t want a spanking. She wanted cock and lots of it. Even though she’d just come—and utterly so—she wanted more. She wanted him. “Maybe later? Master?”
His lips curled. “Oh, definitely later. But for now, how about something more soothing?” He led her over to a lush, armless chair. He sat and waved for her to kneel before him.
When he unzipped his jeans, she couldn’t hold his gaze—she absolutely couldn’t. Every iota of her attention trained on his crotch. When he pulled out his cock, heavy and thick, she nearly came again. It was a long, fat beast with an intriguing vein snaking its way to the head.
She licked her lips and leaned forward. And then stilled. Looked up at him pleadingly. “May I, Sir?”
He shuddered. “God, yes, Tess.”
He was warm and full against her palm. She wrapped her fingers around his girth and stroked. It was he who broke the connection, he who closed his eyes and threw back his head and moaned in bliss.
Bliss. She’d show him true bliss. Reverently, she lowered her gaze to the weeping head of his cock and with a gentle tongue, dried his tear. In its wake, another droplet eased out. Unable to resist any longer, Tess settled her lips around him and sucked him into her mouth. Jared’s groan rumbled through her.
Oh God, it was sweet. His cock in her mouth, his velvet head against her tongue, the taste of his essence. Magnificent. He was magnificent.
She could happily kneel at his feet, sucking on this cock for the rest of her days. She drew in a breath through her nose and took him deeper and deeper still. He nudged against the back of her throat and her muscles massaged him. She thought she heard him whimper.
She circled her fingers around him at the root and pressed her thumb along the base, massaging a sensitive spot and subtly tugging at his balls. And was rewarded with another salty tear.
“God, Tess.” He fisted his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer. “God.”
She released her hold on him with a pop, but before he could complain she took the head of his cock back into her mouth and nuzzled and sucked with her lips, going deeper with each pass. His salty essence filled her mouth and clouded her judgment.
