by Amy Valenti
"Try my patience again, and next time I'll be aiming a little to the left,” she told me coolly, giving me a second to contemplate that before moving on. “Twenty strikes, then we'll see. Count along, detective."
She dealt out the blows steadily against my thighs, and I marked each one with the appropriate number, grateful she hadn't insisted that I thank her after each stroke, the way she did with Santoro. When she had dealt the twentieth stroke, she set aside the crop, running her hands over my burning skin instead.
"The thing I've found,” she said thoughtfully, “is that the key to a successful scene is contrast. You cause the pain, and then you can just smooth it away..."
Her hands were slow but firm against the afflicted areas, massaging away the worst of the hurt and leaving my skin tingling. For the first time since she'd tied me up, I began to relax, enjoying the contact. After a minute or so, she turned her attention from my thighs to my chest, sitting beside me on the bed and trailing her fingers over my nipples and down my ribcage.
"Good boy,” she said softly, and I gave her a slight smile, relinquishing myself to her control. I still planned to punish her when this was through, but in the meantime I'd enjoy the moment, since I was incapacitated.
When she'd had enough of running her fingertips across my chest, she straddled me on hands and knees, holding her hips above mine and giving me an amazing view of her cleavage. It was a tantalising reminder of what—under normal circumstances—I'd be able to take advantage of.
"You know what?” she asked, leaning forward to brush her lips against mine.
I lifted my head from the pillow to meet her, attempting to take control of the kiss, and she allowed it for a couple of seconds before pulling back.
Then, meeting my eyes, she told me, “I could really fuck you right now. I mean, look at you..."
As if her body and her words weren't enough of a turn-on, she reached one hand down and stroked up my cock, teasing me until I groaned with frustrated longing.
She released her hold immediately, keeping her hips balanced just out of reach, and continued, “Just look at you. All hard and ready for me to just sink down and ride you with all the strength I have until you come..."
The mental image was so powerful I had to close my eyes against her gaze to keep myself in check.
"Then do it, Mistress,” I said, my voice emerging lower and huskier than I intended it to.
She laughed softly, the sound going straight to my cock, and lightly bit each of my nipples before blowing a light gust of air over the moist skin, tormenting me.
"You think I'm gonna end this scene so easily, detective? No way. I like having you in my thrall..."
Kneeling up, still straddling me, she slipped a finger inside her thong, moaning under her breath as she touched herself.
"But I'm so turned on that I can't focus. It's a problem, detective. I'm gonna need a little help, here..."
The last word was almost lost in a gasp as she rubbed harder, beginning a rhythm we both knew by heart. She'd come within a minute if she continued that way, and I tugged at my bonds, needing to go to her aid.
"Get me out of these,” I growled as she began to tremble, her muscles tensing more with every second that passed. “Let me touch you."
Faye stopped herself moments before she would have come, breathing heavily as she whispered, “You wanna help? Then let's see if your tongue is any substitute for my fingers, boy..."
Tasting her sounded pretty good, and I waited while she shimmied out of her thong and knelt over my head, within reach of my mouth.
"C'mon, detective. Impress me, and maybe I'll let you come tonight."
Her distinctive scent and obvious arousal were irresistible, and I began as soon as she got close enough, just tasting her hot, wet skin for long moments before zeroing in on her clit for a split second. She cried out as I drew back again, taking my time, deliberately frustrating her.
"Think very carefully before you decide to keep that up,” she said sharply, and I turned my attention back to her clit, amused.
"That's it... Make me come..."
Somehow, the order sounded impossibly sensual spilling from her lips. Spurred on by her whispers and sighs, I kept up my assault on her clit, varying in pressure, tempo and direction, until she ground against me and came with a cry of ecstatic relief.
Feeling accomplished and a little smug, I waited for her to recover as she curled up beside me, letting the mask drop for a couple of minutes. I could only lay there, my arms tethered, neglected and longing to hold her.
After she'd given herself a while to gather her composure, she rose from the bed, establishing distance and dominance between us again.
"Not bad, detective. Let's see what else we can do with you tonight..."
Now that her panties were off, she snapped her bra undone and let it fall to the carpet, leaving herself clothed only in black lace stockings and heels as well as one of the light chokers I'd picked out for her to wear to work in place of her collar. Turning to her play-cabinet, she pulled out a paddle—small, light and easy to wield.
"Now...since you held out on me, I think I'm gonna remind you who has the power here. By the end of the scene, you're gonna be begging me to let you come."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her overconfidence, but she didn't look intimidated.
"You don't believe me, detective? Permission to speak freely."
Seizing the opportunity before the offer expired, I told her, “If you think you're gonna have your Dom begging, you're sadly mistaken, little tease."
"Well, Sir...” Faye said, heavy sarcasm in the word, “we'll see."
Her shoulders were squared the same way they got when she found a forensic sample she couldn't puzzle out, and if it was anyone else she was challenging I'd have had no doubt she'd triumph.
I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up her hand.
"Permission revoked, detective. Shut the hell up.” Punctuating the words with a smarting slap from the paddle, she turned her back and deposited the implement back in the cabinet.
"I was gonna go for a little more pain, but you decided to smart-mouth me, so instead, we're gonna work on that begging I was talking about.” She sat between my spread legs, settling down, and made no attempt to hide the way her eyes swept over my body, finally coming to rest on my face. “If you come before I tell you to, detective..."
You'll what?
I bit back the irreverent words in case she decided she'd rather go and make some coffee and leave me to think about it for a while. She read the question in my eyes, however, and said, “Then you forfeit the right to get your own back, because I swear to God, I'll safe word every time you lay a hand on me for a month."
The words were light, as if it'd be no big deal for her. I knew it'd almost kill her, but she'd do it, and the thought of how much it would depress us both was enough to blackmail me into compliance.
She was really good. Maybe better than I was in the mind-fuck stakes. The knowledge just turned me on further, and from the look on her face, she could tell, letting enough of her own show to make me curse the cuffs she'd restrained my wrists with.
"What do you want, detective?” Her words were quiet and breathy, and her fingers danced up my thighs as she waited for my reply.
"I wanna get out of these cuffs, drag you on top of me, roll you over and fuck you until you can't move,” I said, and she shivered lightly, trying to keep calm.
"Too bad,” she said, throwing a nonchalant facade up as she shrugged and closed her hand around my cock again, beginning to move slowly. I swallowed the urge to groan as she continued, “We're doing it my way today. And you will not come from this."
Before I could ask what, she leant forward and took me into her mouth, her hand still at work as she moved her tongue into play. She'd been doing this to me for long enough that she knew every trick I loved, and she didn't hesitate to use them now, keeping it slow, torturing me with every flick of her tongue until
I couldn't watch her anymore for fear of losing control.
When my jaw began to ache from clamping down on the moans I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of voicing, she took a break, her mouth still so close that I felt her every word as she said, “You're gonna have to let it out sooner or later, detective... I'm not gonna think any less of you for sounding like you're enjoying yourself..."
She waited a couple of seconds for my reply, then shook her head with a grin.
"Stubborn boy,” she said, sighing distractingly against my attention-seeking cock. “I haven't even started playing hardball yet..."
To prove her point, she returned to her ministrations with added determination, her loose hair falling around her face as she coaxed me to the edge with a skill that seemed effortless. Breathing hard, I wrenched at my restraints, knowing it was futile but too frustrated to care.
Instantly, she raised her head, then sat up and frowned at me. “If you break my headboard I'm gonna kick your ass,” she warned, and I grinned at the vainglorious statement. Now, that I knew she couldn't do. And if I broke her headboard I'd just buy her a new bed.
Returning the smile, she shifted positions, straddling my hips and reaching down to take hold of my cock again, rubbing her clit against the head and teasing us both. She was so hot and wet, so ready for me, that I couldn't help but buck my hips up, desperate to be inside her.
"Nuh-uh,” she told me, tapping me with a finger, and I settled down, waiting for her next move.
Carefully, she positioned me at her entrance, watching me for signs that I'd push her.
"Try it and you get nothing, detective,” she said, and waited for my nod before sinking down on me a little way, not more than an inch.
The urge to thrust deeper was almost overwhelming, and I held still with an effort as she tested my control. The feel of her tight flesh around me was incredible, and the friction as she pushed just a little further down before rising up again made me forget all about suppressing my groans.
"Fuck, Faye..."
She held still, raising an eyebrow at me. “You know, if I chose to interpret that as an order, that'd almost be begging...” When she calculatedly squeezed her internal muscles around me, making me pull at the cuffs again, I almost decided to just plead for her to fuck me and give us both what we wanted.
But—like she said—I was stubborn.
"It wasn't anywhere near an order."
"You gonna show me the proper respect, detective?” she asked, kneeling up and pulling me free of her, then returning to her spot between my legs. “Or do I go and get myself off while I shower, leaving you here to listen to my moans, then see if I can chat to some friends on the internet for a while?"
I doubted she actually would, but the threat was enough to make me toe the line.
"Sorry, Mistress,” I said, mentally adding another cane-strike to her punishment.
"You're learning,” she said, trailing her fingers over my cock again. “But I'm still waiting to hear you beg. Just one little word, that's all it takes...” For a second she paused, concentrating on teasing me, then looked up with a wicked smile. “Well, two. ‘Please, Mistress’ has a much nicer ring to it than just plain ‘please'..."
Before I could react, she resumed her little game, increasing my desire from a slow burn to an almost painful inferno within a couple of minutes. I grabbed the metal curls of her headboard to stop myself from trying to break the links in the cuffs, grinding out, “If you don't stop now I'm gonna have no choice but to come. You wanna be celibate for a month, just keep going..."
Her lips twitched around my cock and I knew she was trying not to smile, but she ignored me. I tried to hold on, but there was only so much mind-over-matter could do when your girl was reaching down between her own legs while sucking you off, her fingers coated in the juices you could still taste on your lips...
"Fuck, Faye, I can't—"
She withdrew from me at the instant that a single touch could have made me come, kneeling motionless between my legs as my mind rejoiced that I was still in control and my body cried out the strongest protest I'd ever known. I didn't realise I'd called her something I'd sworn not to call any woman until she laughed delightedly, switching positions again and sinking back down onto my cock before I had time to catch my breath.
"You better watch out there, detective... I might get offended and go for that shower."
Her actions belied her words, however, as she began to take me with delicious movements of her hips. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her that I could almost feel her skin against my hands, but all I could do was let her take control—my legs were tied so I couldn't gain any purchase against the mattress to drive myself deeper. She'd planned for this, and the realisation frustrated me even more.
So I whispered the same insult again against her lips as she leant down to kiss me. “Teasing little cunt..."
She moaned without restraint, tense and trembling as the words took her higher. She loved the fact she'd made me say it, and the realisation that I'd discovered a new kink of hers swept me right up to the edge of reason. A fraction of a second after our lips met, she came hard, her orgasm pushing me, pushing me...
I was barely hanging on by a thread, not even caring about the consequences, just desperate to come, when suddenly she was gone. God knows how she'd managed to slide off the bed in the middle of an orgasm that strong, but somehow she had, and she was now on the floor, watching me through lust-darkened eyes as she recovered.
God damn it, she can read me too well...
She'd known exactly what letting herself come again would do to me.
"Faye...” I growled, using the tone she referred to as my ‘Dom voice'.
Regaining her equilibrium, she stood up, her limbs shaking a little, and sat between my legs again.
"This ends whenever you want it to, detective,” she reminded me, preparing to deny me for a third time. “I can get off whenever I want—I can go on like this all night if I have to."
I didn't doubt it, but I was hoping her sense of mercy would kick in before my stubbornness gave out. And so as she went down again, her hot, skilful tongue taking me back from barely-bearable pleasure to the edge of madness, the only pleas were in my mind, even as she took me higher than I'd ever thought I could go. I had no idea what she was doing to me, but I couldn't make myself feel this good...
The thought was fleeting, the last coherent one I had before I forgot how. And when I came to my senses again, aching and unfulfilled, she was sitting calmly in place, waiting for me to drop to a level where she could begin tormenting me once more.
I couldn't find the words to express how pissed off I was with her, and how much that fuelled my need for her. She read the anger at the edges of my shattered composure on my face and crawled up my body to meet my furious kiss, using her position on top of me to push back my tongue with hers and further take control from me. She tugged gently at the collar around my throat, reminding me of my status in this scene.
"You wanna come? It's in your hands. I can't end this for you, boy,” she whispered, and slowly guided me inside her again, as if wary of pushing me too far. When she started to move, I groaned my frustration, loving her, hating her, needing to stop, to safe word, to let go, to come or else to take a three-hour-long, ice-cold shower...
And as she rode me half out of my mind again, knowing what she was capable of and what she fully intended to do, I couldn't do anything but give in, using the only word that would get me what I wanted.
"Please..."
She didn't even pause, watching me carefully through her obvious desire, knowing I was at breaking point and could safe word if my pride wouldn't let me voice the word that grated against my nature so much. But seeing that caution, how much she cared for me and was keeping my mental state in mind, was the final turn-on that decided me.
"Please, Mistress..."
Her smile lit up the room—genuine pleasure, free of triumph at her victory—and she leant down
to give me a brief kiss, breathing the words I'd been longing for.
"Come for me, detective."
Within two seconds, the most intense orgasm I'd ever had knocked me out of my mind, wiping out everything for seconds on end. I returned to conscious thought slowly, and registered a very satisfied Faye nuzzling my neck, her arms and legs still wrapped around me.
"And that is why you should let me top once in a while, Sir,” she murmured, sounding slightly smug for the first time.
No matter how much I might have wanted to retort, I had the feeling anything I tried to say would come out incoherent. I'd seen Faye after a hard scene, and she often looked as wrung-out as I felt at that moment. So I rested my cheek on top of her head, drawing comfort from her skin against mine, and relaxed, exhausted.
Too soon, she rolled off me to sit up, undoing the collar at my throat and slipping it off. A strange sense of loss touched the edge of my senses, and I frowned it away, berating myself for wanting the thing on me for a moment longer than necessary. Her hands went to the cuffs that restrained me next, and she kissed each slightly bruised wrist as she released it.
While I pulled my arms down to my sides, trying to readjust to the freedom, Faye untied the scarves around my ankles, shed her heels and stockings, then returned to my side, silently encouraging me to take her in my arms. Holding her, I felt my sense of self beginning to return, and eventually I was over the scene enough to be able to ask the critical question.
"How the hell did you do that?"
Giggling, she raised her head from my chest to look at me. Her hair was a mess and her lipstick was pretty much gone, but she'd never looked more beautiful, and the Faye I'd collared was completely back in my power.
"You can learn all sorts of cool stuff on the internet. It's orgasm denial, Sir. If you edge someone enough and then hold back, it makes it way more satisfying when they do come—and I'm guessing it worked."
There was a twinkle in her eye that made me wonder exactly what I'd said or done without knowing it, but I decided I was better off not knowing.
