Taking Her Down

by Vonna Harper

  He shook his head and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, nothing had changed. The flickering, inhuman quality was still there.

  “My chief turned you over to me so I could prepare you to receive the other warriors.”

  Receive? Hardly. Just the same, she knew not to press him about the word’s true meaning.

  “What…?” She swallowed. “What are you going to do to prepare me?”

  Now that the window was open, she clearly heard the wind attacking the trees. Rain hammered at the building. Some of that moisture ran down the inner wall beneath the window, making it more difficult for her to find the line between this room and the wilderness. If the storm continued, it might consume her.

  “I will do many things,” he muttered.

  Before she could ask for clarification, even before she could decide whether that was wise, he leaned over her, flattened her right breast with his free hand and settled her onto her back. Her weight rested on her arms. She again tried moving her legs.

  “Pleasure and pain. Taking you on a journey that’ll change you. Introduce you to what your body is capable of and make you a slave to it.”

  What she’d learned about BDSM had led her to conclude that was the practice’s deepest appeal. Women who embraced being submissive loved surrendering their bodies to the incomprehensible, to her, mix of sexual pleasure and physical punishment. She wondered if, now that he’d justified his reasons for having her under his control, he’d dismissed the notion that they were members of warring clans or tribes. From now on he’d simply wear his Master hat and expect her to embrace her own role—one he’d taken out of her hands.

  With her approval.

  “The human body is amazing,” he said. “Much of the time it does its job without our having to direct it. We breathe without thinking, don’t have to remind our hearts to beat. Our skin alerts us to changes in temperature so we can put on or remove clothing.” He lifted the vibrator off her and turned it on, then held it up so she could see the vibrations. “A person accepts a gentle touch and recoils from danger. We seldom give our bodies the credit they’re due.” He frowned. “Sometimes we have no choice but to give that remarkable system our full attention.”

  Watching her like a hawk watches a mouse, he slowly brought the vibrator to within an inch of the nipple he hadn’t buried under his hand. She held her breath.

  “Even before contact is made, your system sends a message to your brain that something important is about to happen.”

  She might’ve argued that her brain and not her nerve endings had stopped her breathing. Any second, any damned second he’d—

  “Your silence interests me.” He nodded in what might’ve been approval. “Maybe you’re waiting for permission, but I don’t think so. It’s too early in your education.”

  Education?

  The rapidly moving tool brushed her nipple. The contact lasted less than a second, not enough time for her nerves to do more than jump.

  “I enjoy this part.” He rested the vibrator against the inside of her breast. “Keeping a slave off balance and demonstrating my power. My ability to both pleasure and pester her.”

  She didn’t care what he called what he was doing, because the movement spiraling throughout her breast felt so damn good. Her awareness of her compromised limbs retreated. The sensation had already reached her belly and was heading south.

  “What is this?” he asked. “Good or bad?”

  “Good.” What would she gain by lying, except to, maybe, anger him?

  “Correct.”

  This wasn’t some test question she’d answered to his satisfaction. She’d stay where he wanted her to be, respond as best she could, live with this music humming through her.

  He moved the vibrator in a slow circle around her breast, and when he was done, he made another circuit, this one closer to her nipple. She ducked her head so she could watch. Her toes curled and her nails dug into her palms. Moisture dampened her core.

  “Still good?”

  “Yes. Oh yes.”

  Watching her, he rested the vibrator on her nipple. “Yes what?”

  “Master.” Her throat felt dry.

  “Don’t forget that.”

  As distracting as the touch was, she noted his warning tone. She didn’t dare relax after all, because things might change in a heartbeat and she needed to be prepared.

  Prepared for what? she wondered as the pressure increased. Sudden pain?

  “You might believe you understand what this is about, but you’re a baby, a novice, a virgin.”

  That, she wasn’t.

  “Time for kindergarten.”

  When the vibrator’s contact with her nipple remained constant, she relaxed a little. He’d stopped studying her expression and had turned his attention back to her breasts. She continued to watch for a change in his eyes. The fast-paced movement on her nipple was arousing, but not like what she experienced when she used one on her sex.

  He’d lifted his hand off the breast he’d been covering before she noticed what he’d done. He brought it close to her face then placed it behind his back. “Think about this for a moment. What does your Master intend to do next?”

  She didn’t know and could only imagine. Her imaginings took her from anticipation to dread then to confusion as the vibrator continued its insistent attack. She hated her helplessness but loved how he’d used it to bring her pleasure—so far.

  He snapped his fingers, forcing her to acknowledge the empty hand hovering over her. She stared at the closely trimmed nails, prominent knuckles and broad palm.

  “Ever wear nipple clamps?” He closed his thumb and forefinger over her nipple, the grip strong.

  “No. No, Master.” She sucked in her belly.

  “Ever want one?”

  “I, ah, I’ve thought about it but I don’t really—I don’t think so, Master.”

  “But if that’s what your Master wants, you don’t have a choice.” He tightened his hold.

  For the first time, true discomfort slapped at her senses. Afraid to move, she held her breath. Damp air lay heavily against her naked body. The building shuddered from a powerful blast of wind.

  “Pay attention. Note the conflicting sensations on your breasts. One”—he started the vibrator in a tight circle around her rock-hard nipple—“is sexual while the other isn’t.”

  “I…”

  “What were you going to say, slave?”

  That you’re scaring me. But that would’ve been an admission of failure and defeat when she prided herself on never giving up. “Nothing, Master.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He’s going to hurt me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Only it wasn’t that simple, she admitted, as he continued tormenting one nipple while treating the other to the opposite. Maybe her system had made a deliberate decision to throw as much focus as possible on the hot pinpricks of pleasure carving a path from where the vibrator was working to her pussy.

  Her trapped nipple burned and ached. Despite her attempts not to, she couldn’t help trying to break free. Thrashing helped distract her from the conflicting sensations. It wasn’t enough, of course. She still stood perched between desire and dread, but as long as she kept moving she wouldn’t drown.

  Maybe.

  “This is more than kindergarten.” He drew her nipple up and down, left and right. “You’ve in grade school now. Maybe you’re looking forward to mid high.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?” He turned off the vibrator and placed it on the bed near her leg.

  “Master. Master.”

  “Too late.”

  “I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t mean…” Much as she hated her pleading tone, her breast was on fire. She struggled to wrench away from him, only to sob and roll back when he seized her other breast and clamped down on it.

  “There are Doms and then there are Doms. I’m the bastard kind.” He equalized the pressure on her breasts until it
felt as if her entire upper body were under attack. “I tried the conventional route, the game playing MSDB is known for, but that isn’t me. It used to be, but…”

  Despite the battering her nerves were under, she noted that his voice had dropped at the end. She fought to rise above the pain and concentrate on him.

  “Do you miss what you used to be, Master? Maybe you don’t understand who you’ve become.”

  He’d left her on the bed so he could go to the window, where the air his lungs craved was, but now that he was there he felt even less in control than when he’d first opened the window.

  He needed to gag her again. Hell, he should have already silenced her.

  Why? Are you afraid of what she asked you?

  The hell I am, he told himself, but maybe it was a lie. Otherwise, he would have shrugged off her comment about him not understanding who he’d become.

  Rain blasted through the screen and struck him in the face. Water dripped off the end of his nose and ran down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure when it had started raining. Maybe the downpour had been going on for days.

  The storm had him in its grip, the hold stronger here on the island than if he’d been on the mainland. For the past few years, he’d been debating whether he should move to a less humid area, and not just because he hated being hot and sticky all summer. But his job, house and friends were here.

  So was MSDB and the opportunity to indulge his Dominant urges.

  The problem, he admitted as his vision cleared enough so he could see his slave-in-training, was that they were more than urges. ‘Inescapable’ was more like it.

  He wanted and needed to dominate women. Controlling their actions and reactions completed him. Molding their thoughts and how they saw him turned him on.

  As he made his way back to the bed, he acknowledged that, in today’s world, he couldn’t really own a woman, a slave, but if she wanted it—

  “Your breasts are red,” he told her unnecessarily. “Hard to tell which received what treatment.”

  Her eyes were so damned big, the pupils huge and staring. She was shaking but not, he knew, in terror. He ran his hand between her legs. Wet heat greeted him. Pleased, he licked his fingers. She watched his every move.

  He again ran his fingers over her sex, taking his time. When he’d gathered some of her juices, he placed his fingers against her mouth. She sucked. “Does that surprise you? Maybe you didn’t think you’d react like that to pain.”

  “I didn’t know, Master.”

  He didn’t want to kiss her, damn it, didn’t want to connect with her that way. But then the storm sighed. He needed to share something with the woman he’d pulled into his demented world. Maybe she craved the same thing because, instead of averting her face, she lifted her head what little she could and met him halfway. He took hold of her shoulders and supported her, brought her even closer to him. Her mouth parted. He felt warmth and wetness. Her trembling slipped into him and made him vulnerable. Despite the threat, he extended his tongue. She pushed back, said something about equality despite an unequal day. He dove and retreated until the force that owned him demanded he take over.

  Growling deep in his throat, he pushed her against the bed, sucked her lower lip between his teeth and nibbled. She squirmed but kept her head still. Her answering growl was higher pitched but just as honest.

  She wanted him. Damn wanted him.

  Shaken by the thought, he released her and straightened while still holding her down. She looked so deliciously helpless with her eyes glimmering and mouth sagging.

  His.

  To command.

  “I’m in charge, get it?” He punctuated his comment by slapping her cheek. “Don’t you for a second think otherwise.”

  She nodded, but beneath her shock, he saw something else, a wisdom that hadn’t been there before.

  This woman knew where he was wounded.

  Master’s wet hair clung to his head. Droplets stuck to his eyebrows. One drew her attention to the lashes of his right eye. Her cheek still stung from where he’d slapped her, but despite the pain she understood. For a moment, they’d come closer than he’d expected or felt comfortable with, and he was trying to eradicate the message behind the kiss.

  He might not let them return to when everything had been about getting to know each other, but he couldn’t take away the memory. The feel of his lips on hers and their tongues dancing would stay with her forever.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said. “I need you to—Master, I don’t want to…”

  “You’re asking permission to use the toilet?”

  Permission. Yes, that was one of the things that defined their relationship. She nodded and flexed her right knee a little. She wasn’t sure she could get off the bed without help and shouldn’t try until he gave permission. She’d been unaware of her bladder until suddenly its demand overrode everything else.

  “Damn,” he said. “I should have—all right.” He slipped a forefinger through the ring at the front of her collar and pulled up.

  Feeling her helplessness throughout, she strained to bring her body upright. When she was sitting, he released the ring, clamped hold of her hips and slid her to the edge of the bed so her legs dangled over it.

  She stood without help but nearly fell when she tried to take a step. Another wave of helplessness distracted her from her bladder.

  “I’m not your servant,” he snapped. “Figure it out.”

  She started scooting her feet over the floor. Her breasts jiggled and the collar ring bobbed. She had to lean over a little to keep from losing her balance, wondering all the while what was going to happen once she reached the closed door. Either he opened it or risked her peeing standing in front of it. Even though she hated appearing so awkward, the situation kept her sexually on alert. Maybe it was because everything that was happening revolved around her.

  Master walked beside her with his attention locked on her naked and restrained body. Nothing else mattered to him.

  Maybe.

  To her relief, he opened the door, revealing a pristine and spacious bathroom with both a shower and jetted tub. She hadn’t had a tub bath since childhood. This one was large enough to hold two people.

  Closing down the thought, she acknowledged that Master intended to watch while she performed what should’ve been a private act.

  Not looking at him, she sat on the toilet. Even though it probably made no difference to him, she took small pride in slowly letting go. Thanks to the rain, the sound of her urine hitting the water in the bowl was muffled. Done, she repeatedly clenched her muscles down there while bouncing up and down a little.

  “You think that’s good enough?” he demanded. “It isn’t.”

  She made herself face him. She couldn’t read his expression, had no idea what he was thinking.

  “What do you want me to do, Master?”

  “Lean forward.” He reached for the toilet paper.

  Her throat tight, she did as he’d commanded. Desperate to not have to think about what he was doing, she pictured herself jogging down the path leading from the cabin to where the boat that would take her back home waited. In her mind, it had stopped raining and steam rose from the saturated ground to coat her naked body.

  “Back to the bed,” he said after he’d washed his hands. “Time for more lessons.”

  The intoxicating scent of a summer storm filled her senses as she shuffled into the bedroom. The coverlet was wrinkled, the vibrator on the floor. He stepped back and watched as she wriggled and scooted until her ass was securely on the bed and her legs over the side. He folded his arms over his still-clothed chest and ran his gaze from her tangled hair to her toes digging into the carpet. Noting his tight jaw and the hard mound beneath his zipper, she struggled to retain her emotional equilibrium. If only she’d known how much the encounter would do to her mind.

  “What now?” she snapped. “More of the damned same?”

  Even when his lips thinned, she didn’t regr
et her outburst. This might’ve been a game to him—might—but for her, everything was at stake.

  “That’s how you see what’s happened so far?” he asked. “It’s something to be tolerated?”

  “I didn’t say—no, not ‘tolerated’. Master.”

  When the corner of his mouth twitched, she felt the movement in the pit of her stomach.

  “What, then?”

  Hadn’t he already asked her something like this? If he had, how had she responded? Hoping she could get away with silence, she fixed her attention on her knees, or rather, she tried to. Even though she couldn’t see her core, she imagined the pale dusting of hair that didn’t completely cover her pussy. The first time she’d used a mirror to study that part of her anatomy, she’d been shocked by how dark and wrinkly things were there, but she’d only been eleven or twelve. Since then, she’d embraced what identified her as a woman, especially her clit.

  Hell, she loved what it was capable of.

  “I guess I’m ready for whatever, Master.”

  Her hope that he’d say they were on the same page died when he didn’t acknowledge her comment. His intense stare broke her apart a bit, so she didn’t know whether anticipation or hesitancy held the upper hand. Bits and pieces of MSDB scenes were messing with her mind, including the ones that showed women wearing nipple clamps while being lashed. Just because their moans had been filled with passion didn’t mean she’d react the same way.

  Not that he cared.

  That, she forced herself to accept as he headed into the living room, had been in his eyes almost from the beginning.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He could have moved both storage boxes into the bedroom before the sub had showed up, but he hadn’t during the hour or so he’d sat in the living room asking himself if he dared stay. Instead of preparing the space in the room where he’d left her for action, he’d stared out of the open door while trying to deny the island’s hold on him. Finally, he’d stood, stepped outside and headed down the path toward where Heaven and Hell, in the form of a female body, waited.