I is for...

by L. DuBois

  “Thank you.”

  He circled around until he stood near one of her hands. He pressed on it. For a moment she managed to lace her fingers with his.

  He gave her a squeeze, then tugged his hand free. She lay the back of her hand flat, fingers splayed. Accepting. Waiting.

  He put his cock on her hand.

  Her fingers curled around him, and he gritted his teeth. He was so aroused that the touch of her hand was almost painfully pleasurable.

  She curled her fingers around him, her thumb flicking the fat head of his cock.

  Alexandre yanked back. He wouldn’t last long, and he wasn’t ready to come yet.

  His retreat was halted when Chastity refused to let go.

  He glanced to her face to find her grinning. “Maybe I’ll keep this…”

  Her voice was muffled because of the collar. She was bound and naked, spread and helpless.

  And yet she was ready and willing to tease him. To toy and play with his cock.

  “I was planning to go eat your pussy, but if you’d rather give me a hand job…”

  Her fingers sprang apart.

  He laughed.

  This woman made him laugh, and he never laughed. Not real laughter. He was good at dry amusement and being a smart-ass.

  He kept one hand on her as he followed the lines of the X and her body. He trailed his fingers along her side, hating each time a strap interrupted the feel of her skin under his hand.

  He paused to play with her toes when he reached her foot, then made his way up between her legs. He reached out with both hands so he was touching both of her legs, his thumbs pressed firmly against the inside of her calves, knees, then her thighs.

  By the time he reached her sex, she was panting.

  “Breathe,” he reminded.

  She sucked in air, held it, then blew it out on a slow breath.

  “Slow and steady.” He dropped to his knees and looked at her pussy. Last time he’d been so consumed by passion, he hadn’t taken his time. He hadn’t savored, he’d devoured.

  She was lovely—hairless and soft. Her skin here was so pale that he could see blue veins under the flesh. The core of her pussy was pink, with the pearlescent tinge of arousal making her glisten in the light.

  “I want you to breathe deep, and keep your core relaxed. Don’t tense up. Don’t fight me, or the bindings.”

  “I’m not going to fight you if you’re going to lick me.”

  “I won’t just lick. I’ll suck and bite, too. But I think you will. I think you’ll try and make yourself come, or you’ll try and hold off the orgasm.”

  He waited for her reply, but her silence was the answer he needed.

  “I’ve made you as immobile as I can, but you have to do this part. Submit. Accept.”

  He leaned in as he spoke, so his lips were practically brushing her pussy when he finished by saying, “Let go.”

  She made a sweet little noise of need, probably feeling the air from his words against her most intimate flesh. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer—that noise pushed him over the edge.

  Alexandre buried his face in her pussy. This time he had total control. She couldn’t wrap her legs around him, couldn’t practically smother him against her pussy.

  And that’s a shame. This is good, but that was good, too.

  Ignoring that inner voice, he went to work. She needed to know he was in control of her pussy now. He started by licking every inch of her hot, smooth flesh. He started at the entrance to her body, pointing his tongue and pressing it into her. She clenched around him.

  He pulled back to bark, “Relax.”

  “I didn’t do that on purpose,” she gasped. “Maybe do it again…so I can practice relaxing.”

  He chuckled and then nipped her, taking a pussy lip in his mouth and biting gently before releasing.

  “Mmmm,” she hummed.

  For a moment, he’d wondered if the sassy comments meant she was no longer in subspace, but that sound was about as blissed-out-sub as it got. She could be both—sassy and deep in subspace.

  Damn, he liked this woman.

  Alexandre ran his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. He heard her inhale as he got close, and when he lapped the little bud, she exhaled.

  Dropping down, he started again, first fucking his tongue into her, then licking his way up her labia, tracing his tongue along each fold and valley, until he was at her clit. He flicked it this time, then bit her mons, liking the way the firm, velvety flesh felt between his teeth.

  He wanted more, wanted to know her.

  Alexandre raised his hands, sliding his thumbs inside her labia and pressing the folds open. He spread her until her glistening flesh was stretched and she was exposed. He wished he had clamps and tape. He’d clamp her pussy lips, then tape the clamps to her thighs. He’d never done that with a sub before—again, brutish—but he wanted to do it to her. And he had a feeling she would enjoy it.

  Next time.

  He had to settle for holding her open with his thumbs, his palms on her where thigh met torso, fingers pressing into her firmly enough to make her aware of the pressure.

  Her inner folds were small and delicate, the entrance to her body clenching closed when he blew on it. Then there was her clit. It was large, but not remarkably so. The hood was retracted back enough to show the almost pointed tip of her clitoris.

  He pointed his tongue, then leaned in and flicked her clit.

  Chastity shrieked.

  Whenever he had his mouth on a woman, he always reminded himself that the clit had as many nerve endings as the entire head of a penis. Even the slightest touch would be intense.

  Good. He wanted it intense. He wanted it to be both pleasure and pain.

  He wanted her to scream.

  He flicked her again.

  “Fuck,” she shrieked through her teeth. “I can’t, I can’t.”

  It didn’t matter what she thought she couldn’t do—handle it, come from it. She would submit to it.

  He flicked her again.

  She sobbed.

  Alexandre buried his face against her, shaking his head side to side until her labia were spread open by his cheeks and he could move his thumbs out of the way. He dropped one hand to his cock and started stroking himself. His dick was wet and jerked against his palm.

  His own need drove him to be ruthless in his torment of her most sensitive flesh. It was a well-known phenomenon that aroused people made bad decisions.

  But this was a good decision.

  The best decision.

  He would pleasure her and play with her, and she would never be the same again.

  That was only fair, since she’d somehow stripped away all his refinement. Released the brute inside.

  He captured the flesh at the top of her pussy between his teeth—the clitoris, the hood, all of it.

  Then he started lapping at her clit, alternating broad strokes with precise applications of the tip of his tongue. When her flesh slid free of the prison of his mouth he started over, taking a mouthful of her most intimate flesh once again.

  He hadn’t really expected her to be able to stay calm or relaxed while he did this, but he could hear her deep—if not fully steady—breathing.

  He knew from the way she felt in his mouth that she was relaxed. When he hit the tight bundle of nerves just the right way, she twitched, but immediately afterward relaxed again.

  If she were truly relaxed, she wouldn’t be able to stop the orgasm.

  Most submissives were trained, either formally or by default, given how scenes generally went, not to come without permission. He had no plans to lift his head from her body long enough to give that permission.

  He was taking it as a personal challenge to make her come, despite that ingrained submissive need to hold back.

  His instincts were right. Giving his jaw muscle a break, he released her and ran his tongue up the center of her pussy from inner labia to clit in a broad, flat stroke.

  As
his flattened tongue passed over her, she pulled in air, then all but screamed, “Come! May I come?!”

  Inside, he smiled. Externally, Alexandre repeated the motion, using the same long, broad stroke.

  She trembled. He could feel the little shudder work its way through her.

  No mercy.

  He focused on her clit, pressing his tongue against her and then rubbing it first up and down, then in circles. It wasn’t licking so much as it was rubbing with his tongue.

  Her breathing changed—it was still deep, but now there was a pause between each inhale and the accompanying exhale. When she did exhale, it was a groan of pleasure. Not those ridiculous panting sounds the women in porn made. It was a guttural, raw sound of need.

  He kept going, altering the rhythm only slightly, but never lifting his tongue. He needed to swallow the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. He needed to close his mouth to relax his jaw.

  He needed, but his need was nothing to hers. Her need ruled right now, and he knew she needed him to keep manipulating her clit.

  “Please, please, I can’t stop—”

  She stopped speaking, sucking in air between her teeth—the sound distinctive—and then screamed.

  The scream was low and ended as a hiss.

  He shoved two fingers into her in time to feel her body tightening from the orgasm. The penetration must have felt good because she let out a sound that was almost like a sob.

  He closed his mouth, swallowed, gave himself a tiny break, then pressed his tongue against her. He didn’t move it, just kept his tongue against her clit as the orgasm pulsed through her.

  “Master Raine, Raine, Raine.”

  She chanted his name, and he hated that he’d left the collar on her. Hated that every noise she made was muffled because she couldn’t open her mouth very far.

  Next time he’d take the collar off and listen to her sweet cries of pleasure as he ate her pussy.

  But now…now he couldn’t hold back.

  Grabbing her legs, he surged to his feet. His cock was standing up nearly against his stomach.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he growled.

  He saw her head try to move. She made a frustrated sound, then said, “Yes. Please, Sir. Fuck me.”

  He angled his cock down, kept his fist around the base, and pressed the head against her. Her pussy was hot and deliciously wet. He held still, reveling in that moment before he surged into her.

  Then the pressure of need low in his abdomen and back overruled his masochistic desire to wait. He thrust into her tight pussy.

  Chastity hissed between her teeth, then moaned.

  He could barely hear those sounds over his own groan of relief and pleasure. She was orgasm-tight around him and so hot.

  He pressed forward until his thighs were wedged between hers. It wasn’t as deep as it could have been—he wasn’t as deep as he had been when he’d had her spread open on the table, but it didn’t matter.

  He started to pump into her, her pussy seeming to clench tight when he tried to withdraw.

  His orgasm came sooner than he’d wanted it to. He wouldn’t fight it, just as she hadn’t.

  But he wouldn’t come in her. He wanted something else this time.

  Alexandre waited until his balls tightened, then he jerked out, grabbed his cock, and with a few strokes of his fist, came, his semen landing in ropes on her belly and breasts.

  It was primitive, brutish, to enjoy the sight of his own come marking a woman.

  Alexandre looked at her naked, bound body, now decorated with his semen, and smiled.

  Chapter 10

  This time when the motor that controlled the table clicked on, she knew what the sound meant and wasn’t surprised when the table started to shift.

  She was surprised when she went backward instead of returning to an upright position, her head lowering towards the floor, her feet rising.

  She was so terrifyingly, deliciously helpless. Unable to move. Unable to see.

  Down, down she went, though she knew technically her feet were going up. Her heart was pounding as her weight shifted. When she’d been upright, she’d been able to keep much of her weight on her feet, then she’d been mostly lying on her back, though with her ass unsupported, the straps on her legs had done a lot of the work, but not all.

  The motor whirred, and she kept going back.

  Now the bondage he’d placed her in was the only thing keeping her from falling.

  Falling.

  Once the thought formed, she couldn’t get it out of her head, and panic started to tighten her throat.

  There was a thump, and she stopped moving. She was upside down, blood rushing to her head.

  “Master Raine?” The words were nothing more than garbled sounds pushed through gritted teeth. The posture collar was jammed against the underside of her jaw and she couldn’t even open her mouth.

  “Master Raine!” She tried again to enunciate. If she couldn’t talk, she didn’t have a safe word.

  She sucked in a breath, but it felt wrong. The pressure on the straps was too much. She couldn’t breathe.

  Her throat was tight, her head was pounding, and she was going to fall.

  “Breathe, Chastity. Breathe for me.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Yes, you can, but you have to calm down.”

  Some part of her wanted to scream at him, but another part of her responded to his authority, and she took a deep breath in through her nose.

  “Check in.”

  “Yellow,” she said, though it came out as “lellow.” “The collar…”

  She felt him come closer—the brush of displaced air against her sensitive skin. Velcro ripped and then the collar was gone, pulled away from her neck.

  She took a desperate gulp of air. Her neck felt cold and strangely delicate, as if after having the collar on, it was shocking that she expected that little column of flesh to hold up her head.

  Though right now her head wasn’t exactly up.

  “How are you now?”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s not a proper answer to that question.”

  “Chartreuse.”

  He chuckled. “And what color is that?”

  “It’s yellow-green. My head…”

  The blood rushing to her head wasn’t exactly painful, but it wasn’t comfortable, either.

  “Can you guess why I’m doing this?” Master Raine’s hand closed over her left breast, first kneading and then plucking the nipple. The residual panic fled from his touch. She was still sensitive from coming so hard, and her pussy pulsed as he toyed with her nipple.

  Why was he doing this?

  That was a trick question if ever she’d heard one, and she wasn’t going to let his fondling trap her into saying something stupid.

  “Because you’re the Dom.”

  A chuckle, and then he said, “Well, yes, but this is another of our items.”

  “I…the blood is in my head and I can’t think.”

  “I won’t keep you this way much longer. Inversion. This is inversion.”

  “Ohh.”

  The motor whirred, and then she was being tilted upright. Altogether she’d been upside down probably no more than two minutes.

  He brought her up until she was once more lying flat, then stopped.

  “I’m going to keep going, Chastity.”

  With the collar off, she could at least move her head, and so she turned her neck, focusing on the direction his voice had come from. “Keep going with what?”

  “Inversion.”

  “We just did it.”

  “No. I had you inverted, briefly.” Again his hand reached for her breasts, almost casually fondling them as he talked to her. “I’m going to invert you again.”

  “Why?” She winced after she’d said it, realizing how it sounded.

  “What are you asking?” He flicked her nipple, making her yelp in sweet pain. She wished she could see his face, read his expression.

 
“I don’t get this kink,” she admitted.

  “But you said ‘willing to try’ on your checklist.”

  “I thought this meant willing to do suspension rope bondage where you were upside down.”

  “That is actually more dangerous than what I’m doing to you.”

  “And what exactly are we doing?”

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m not a rope bondage aficionado, and besides, we’re not doing the letter ‘R’. We have ‘I’. And inversion.”

  She opened her mouth, but closed it.

  “What, Chastity?”

  “I guess I just…still don’t understand. What this is supposed to make me feel?”

  He moved away, releasing her breast, and she wished she could see him. She tensed, expected the cross to start moving again, or for him to do something…

  Fingertips stroked the side of her neck. That wasn’t the something she’d been expecting, and she gasped. Before he could pull away, she turned her head and kissed the inside of his forearm.

  What are you doing?

  She froze, lips on his skin. He smelled good. She liked feeling his heat as she kissed him, but still, kissing him was kind of weird.

  They’d kissed before, but that had been in the middle of the sex she had stupidly referred to as “not a scene.”

  She jerked her head away and licked her lips. Licked the taste of him. He was delicious.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  His fingers pressed on the spot behind her ear, then traced the line of her jaw to her chin. He followed the curve of her chin to her lips. The small hairs along her neck and shoulders stood up in response to the firm, smooth touch.

  She parted her lips, and when his fingers passed over, she licked him. He made a pleased sound, and then pushed his thumb into her mouth. She sucked him, and when he pressed his thumb into the side of her cheek, hooking her like a fish, it was her turn to hum in approval.

  He leaned down, breath washing over her face. “Don’t be sorry.”

  He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing her saliva over her chin and cheek as he did.

  The cross tipped back, her head lowering towards the floor. Chastity still didn’t know what she was meant to feel, but it didn’t matter.

  She trusted Master Raine.