Keep Me: A BDSM Romance

by Bellerose, Cate

  She’s so beautiful, chained to my bench, her reddening ass in the air. Her mouth is open, drawing deep gasps each time the crop connects. Her cheeks are flushed pink. I strike, again and again. Faster and faster. The steel rings rattle constantly. She’s so close to giving in. I can feel it, see it in her movements. Hear it in how each breath gets closer to being voiced.

  Then I stop.

  I lay the the keeper right up between her legs, flat against the dark spot in her panties, an even darker black on the black fabric. Not hard, not moving, just pressing firmly against her. She lets out a soft moan that makes my cock strain against my jeans.

  I wasn’t planning on it, but there’s only a faint glimmer of willpower that keeps me from tearing my pants off, pulling her panties aside and sinking myself into her. The effect she has on me is ridiculous. Even now she’s moving her ass in slow circles, grinding her wetness against the the leather.

  Tap.

  I pull back briefly, then smack the tip of my crop right onto the sensitive flesh of her sex. Finally, I get the cry I was after, though whether it’s pain or ecstasy is hard to tell from where I’m standing.

  “Good. I knew you’d come around.” No matter how inevitable it was, it’s hard to keep the glee out of my voice.

  Her reply is little more than a gasp. “Yes, Master.” She manages to convey so much with those two little words. I love it.

  It’s time for the next part of the performance. Besides, by now I’m dying to see the rest of her. I unhook her ankle cuffs, then move to her front to do the same to her wrists and collar.

  Her brilliant green eyes are open, staring up at me. She looks worried. “We’re not done, are we? Please, Master. I... I don’t think I’ve been punished enough.”

  “You’re right. You haven’t.” I grin. “But you will be.” I take her hand to help her to her feet. Her pulse beats in her veins, so hard I can feel it.

  Once on her feet, she peers out over the crowd, as if she’s just remembering she’s on stage. The audience is captivated, waiting for our next move, and for a second it’s like she and they are trapped in a staring match.

  I put my hands on her smooth thighs, making her jump. I slide up to her hips, then force her to turn and face me. “I want to see more of you.”

  She takes her lower lip between her teeth. “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 8

  Vivian

  My ass burns like I won’t be able to sit for a week.

  It’s alright. I want it. God, I want even more. I don’t care about the crowd. I don’t care where we are. So long as Caleb doesn’t stop, because no one makes me feel like he does. It’s not just that he’s good with a crop. A lot of people know how to hit. It’s his presence. His strength, his bearing. The way he owns me while we play. I’ll let him do anything. Like now.

  He pops the bottom button on my blouse, his clever fingers working quickly. Another, and the next. The final one goes and he draws a sharp breath as he pulls my shirt open. He looks me over, the hard mask he uses while he’s mastering me giving way to a sly smile and a gentle softening of his icy gaze.

  I can tell he likes what he sees. His eyes explore every little bit of me. Even the parts I wish I could hide. It makes me self conscious, aware of every flaw, every imperfection. We all have those insecurities, but the way he looks me over, like he can see no flaw, makes me forget all about them. He doesn’t care, and that makes me brave.

  He moves around me, pulling the shirt down my arms and off before throwing it aside. It lands in a little white pile on the stage, already forgotten. Then he’s right behind me, unclasping my bra. It goes slack and he pulls it forward. It joins my shirt on the floor, and all that’s left are my panties, heels and kneesocks.

  “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His breath is hot on my ear. He reaches to cup me, then stops himself. Why? I want to feel those huge hands on me. I’ll use my safe word if I don’t like something. He knows that. He must know that. He can do anything, except stop.

  “Walk to the cross and put your back to it.” His deep voice demands obedience. I have no choice. Not really.

  First he clips my wrists to the cross, then my ankles, so I’m spread eagle, open for everyone to look at as he takes welcome liberties with my body. I keep forgetting about the audience, but they don’t matter anyway. Only him. I’m open for him.

  He takes a step back. “If I could, I’d keep you on the cross all the time. You look fucking fantastic.” He grins. “My beautiful masterpiece. I’ll leave you there, and just take you down when I want to use you. Sounds good to me.”

  Caleb turns, and picks something up from a table. There’s a slight clink, barely audible over the thrumming beat. As soon as he comes closer I recognize what he’s holding. Silver nipple clamps, with a thin metal chain hanging between them.

  I swallow. My nipples are so sensitive. Even before he clamps, I can feel them in my mind, the sharp bite as they seize hold of my flesh, the crushing pressure, everything. Heat floods to my core at just the thought as I fill with anticipation.

  He holds up the clamps, one in each hand, squeezing them open between his thumbs and index fingers. For a moment he catches my eyes with his, then he leans in and sucks one of my nipples into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Finally, he’s touching me like I want him to.

  I make no attempt to stifle my moan as tingles rush from the sensitive nub straight through my gut to my molten center. Without thinking about it, I push my hips out towards him. My body knows what it wants.

  When he pulls away, the slightly cool air in the room brushes over my wet nipple. While he already had it rock hard, now it could cut glass. Then the pain comes, shooting through me. I look down to see the silver clamp gripping me between its rough pads. I swallow, knowing I have one more to go.

  Caleb grins before taking the second nipple in his mouth like he did the first. The contrast between the pain on the one side and the soft wet pleasure on the other is stark. Still, I know what’s coming, which makes a chill race down my spine when he pulls off with a wet pop, followed by another spark of pain as he applies the second clamp.

  The cuffs bite into my wrists as I tug at them uselessly. It’s mostly for show, but man, if my arms were free and I could take those clamps off, I would. They’re tight. Not so tight that I’ll safe word, though. No way. Not now.

  With his finger, he gives the chain hanging between my nipples a little push, making it swing back and forth. It doesn’t weigh much, but even still, I can feel the slight tugs from its motion.

  “You can take more weight than that, I’m sure.” Teasing me with his words, he turns to the table where he got the clamps and picks up something else, brassy in color.

  Oh God. A weight. There’s a small hook on top, which he gently slips into one of the chain links before he slowly lowers it until it hangs on its own. It’s one of the few times in my life that I wish I had smaller breasts, so that the chain wouldn’t swing so freely. I stand perfectly still, but it doesn’t matter when he gives it a little shove. I whimper softly. My poor nipples.

  “Beautiful.” He gives the weight another push, making it swing faster. Sadistic bastard.

  Good thing I’m a masochistic slut. What a pair we are.

  He turns back to the table. Now what? I don’t think I can handle another weight. He seems to be assembling something. It snaps in place with a click, then he faces me again, holding something red and maybe a foot long, like a kind of wand. “Ever played with electricity, Pet?”

  I shiver. “No, Master.” I’ve always been too scared. I know they’re not dangerous if you know what you're doing, and I bet Caleb does. I still haven’t dared. Do I safe word? Our eyes meet and he sees me. He waits, gives me time.

  I trust him. He’d never harm me. Still, my heart’s thundering in my chest, pounding like it wants to get out. Closing my eyes, I center myself. I can do this. Forcing my muscles to move, I give him a slight nod.

  His feet on the stage signal h
im coming closer. I have to look. He has the wand in his right hand, examining me closely. “It’s not dangerous. Watch.” He holds up his forearm and puts the tip of the wand right up against it. I don’t see a spark, but I hear it, a sharp crack as it connects, briefly completing the circuit.

  His arm twitches just briefly, the nerves startled, but nothing else. He does it again, two, three, four times, each time marked by another crack. After the first time he keeps his arm steady. “It sounds scarier than it is. You’ll be fine, Pet.”

  Keeping the wand aside, showing me it’s not a trick, he runs the fingers of his other hand into my hair, stroking my head softly. It’s comforting. I feel safer knowing that he’s watching me, reading me. So many Doms just charge in to do their thing. That’s how fuck-ups happen. Caleb isn’t going to fuck up. I nod again, a bit more confidently.

  “Good.” The steel voice is back, and any softness in his face is replaced with stone. The show goes on.

  Even with his reassurances, I watch the tip of the wand closely as he moves it closer. It emits a soft hum. He begins with the underside of my left arm, exposed to him by the way I’m strapped to the cross. I want to close my eyes, but I don’t dare to look away as he approaches.

  He taps the tip to my skin, releasing a short spark of pain where it touches. I can’t help it. I squeal, as much in surprise as in actual pain. He holds off, waiting for my reaction. My mind’s yelling, holy shit, Viv, you just got shocked, but I try to stay objective. It doesn’t hurt any more than the crop did. Nowhere near as bad as the worst hits. No singed flesh, no strange smells. Just a little bite. I can do this.

  He touches my side, a quick spark, and I lunge in the opposite direction as far as I can while restrained. Not very far. The weight on the clamp chain swings with me, making me wince as it tugs hard on my nipples. As impossible as it sounds, I’d forgotten the clamps.

  He taps the other side and I reverse. He’s smirking, enjoying chasing me around. It’s like being herded by a sheep dog. With electric teeth.

  My adrenaline’s through the roof. My breath is racing, and I’ve begun to sweat. I have to be crazy, but it’s only making me wetter. Everything he does gets me going, a little more each time. I’m going to be ready to jump him after this. I hope he realizes what he’s in for.

  God, what am I saying? Jump him? We haven’t even...

  He interrupts my train of thought, tapping the wand right on top of my left breast with a crack. “Pay attention, slave. Mind your Master.”

  I yelp, and shrink back into the cross. That hurt more than the others did. Can he adjust the strength?

  Another tap on the other breast, a shot of burning pain that lingers for a second or two. His brows are furrowed over his glaring eyes. He’s mad at me for ignoring him. Even if it was just a second or two.

  “Eyes on me.” His voice is undeniable, cold as ice. I look up, sucked into his stormy dark gray pools.

  His voice is the rumble of thunder. “You will not let your attention drift. Do you understand me?”

  Holy shit. I hurry to answer. “Yes, Master.”

  For several long moments he holds my gaze, then he lifts the tip of the wand to right in front of my mouth. “Stick out your tongue.”

  What? Suddenly I’m tasting cotton balls, my mouth dry at the thought. My tongue? I go cross eyed trying to focus on the buzzing tip in front of me. He can’t be serious?

  “Come on, slave. I don’t have all day. Stick out your tongue. Stop wasting our time here. Or do I need to get serious?”

  I’m tempted to test him, but the desire to please is stronger. I lick my lips nervously. I can safe word. Will I? I have to trust him. He won’t hurt me, not seriously, and I know that. Obeying is still one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Slowly, like it already hurts, I stretch my tongue towards the humming stick.

  “Almost there. Touch the wand. I’m not moving. You have to do it.”

  Shutting my eyes tightly, I steel my nerves and force my tongue out as far as I can. There’s a spark and a flash of pain that burns right on the tip. Ow! God, that hurt.

  “Again.”

  I shudder. Not sure if it’s better or worse now that I know what it’ll feel like. But I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s this or give up. I swallow deep, then stick my tongue out again. Might as well get it over with.

  He’s holding it further away and I have to crane my neck. I touch, it sparks and agony shoots down my tongue. I bite my lip so I don’t burst out with a whole string of words that are sure to get me more punishments.

  “Good girl.” I open my eyes to see him put the wand away. “You deserve a reward. Do you want a reward?”

  Is it a trick question? I don’t know. There’s only one appropriate answer. “Yes, please, Master.”

  He steps up close, right in front of me, the bulk of his body looming over mine. Trapped, I can only wait for his mercy. He bats my breast with his hand, making it jiggle, which makes the weight swing.

  I groan loudly. “Thank you, Master.”

  He laughs. “That’s just me playing. I love your big tits, slave.” He bends over and places a kiss on the slope of the other one. Then another kiss a little lower. Then on the tip of my nipple, where it sticks out between the teeth of the clamp. Each touch of his lips is electric, little sparks of sensation arcing over my tender skin.

  His hand slips in between my legs, cupping my sex over my panties. I freeze, my eyes going wide. Oh God.

  Thick fingers explore my folds through the wet fabric. I squirm in my bonds, pressing myself against him, wanting to feel more, to feel him in me. I’m so on edge, that it won’t take much. Oh please, oh please, let that be my reward.

  His kisses his way back up my breast, continuing on to my throat. Nibbling at my skin, he mumbles between tugs. “I want to make you come. Will you do that for me, Pet? Will you come on my fingers?” His husky voice makes my stomach knot in anticipation.

  “Yes, please, Master.” It would be impossible for him to want it more than me at that moment. I want him so badly it hurts.

  He tugs at my panties until they’re about halfway down my ass. They won’t go further unless he cuts them off, but it’s enough for him to get his fingers into them. Then into me. They’re thick, rough and eager, slipping easily into my wetness. I let out all my pent-up frustration in a deep moan.

  “You’re so ready for me, Pet.” His kisses move up my neck to my jaw, then up to my earlobe. He takes it between his teeth and pulls. He’s so close, his musk tickling my nose and his stubble scratching my skin. “You tempt a man to to overstep his bounds.”

  He adds a second finger, making my breath hitch. If he wants to, he can overstep all he want. Anything, so long as he doesn’t stop making me feel good.

  “Master, I’m yours.” Three simple words, but they make him growl and push his fingers deeper. His thumb lands on my clit, adding to the stimulation of him fingerfucking me right on the stage in front of a crowd of people.

  Heat surges through me, to my core, to my fingertips, to the tips of my toes. Everything tingles. My breathing comes faster, and I know it’s coming. I’m going to come for Caleb. For my Master. I’m going to make him happy.

  His hand finds the weight hanging from my nipples and begins to tug in time with his stroking. Holy— Each tug sends pain and pleasure racing through me. All these feelings, growing together, making me lose it. I can’t take much more. I’m almost there.

  “Come for me, Pet. Show me. Show everyone here what a good little slave you are.” The tone is steel and ice and molten iron, and it’s exactly what I need. I tumble into my orgasm like falling off a cliff, my stomach dropping and the breath stolen from my lungs. I shake on his fingers, like I’m having a fit while moaning loudly until my throat feels raw.

  “Master!” Everything goes white as I come. “Caleb!” I go taut against him and for several long moments, it’s like I’m floating. I’m barely there, just a cloud of swirling pleasure. I keen in the back of my
throat, unable to stop it. Meanwhile, his fingers stab into me, rub my clit, and prolong the orgasm until it hurts.

  It’s never going to end. At least that’s how it feels. Of course, it does, but slowly, winding down until only embers remain, a steady heat that could flare back up at any moment, given the right encouragement.

  I slump in my bonds, hanging like a rag doll, all the strength gone out of me. My heart’s pounding, but slowly coming down to normal. I ache, but it’s a good ache, telling me that I’m alive.

  Caleb’s right there, unclipping the nipple clamps. I draw a sharp breath when he releases them as the blood rushes back into my poor abused nubs. He gives each nipple a soft kiss before turning toward the crowd.

  “Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the demonstration. Feel free to approach me for questions later, but right now I have some aftercare to attend to. Never forget it. It’s one of the most important parts of a good session. Thank you.”

  The crowd claps, which feels weird. No one ever applauds me. One of them stands, his piercing eyes boring into me. It’s Mason from our demo at the club. He’s clapping like the others, but it’s different, intense. He must have really loved the show. Others stand, and then they all fade away as Caleb draws the curtain, taking away the bright spotlights and swathing us in relative darkness.

  As soon as the curtain’s drawn, he comes to me and begins to unclip my ankle cuffs. “You’re incredible, Viv. Everything alright?”

  Soft aftershocks still course through me as I come down from the best orgasm I’ve had in ages. “Oh yeah,” I respond, still catching my breath. “Totally alright.”

  He unhooks my right hand and I just let it drop. I’m exhausted. Who’d have thought being tied to one spot would be so tiring. He lifts it to his shoulder. “Here, hold on to me. I’ve got you.”

  With a click, my second wrist is free, and I’m hanging on his shoulders, my chest mashed against his. His warm skin feels so nice against mine, my hypersensitive nipples tickled by his chest hair.