The fabric felt soft as it brushed against her breasts, but it didn’t stay soft. He wrapped the corset around her and tugged at the laces in the back until it was tight enough not to slip. The fabric might be smooth, but there was far too much steel in it for it to be called soft. He adjusted it, the silk slipping against her skin until he had it perfect. She opened her eyes and looked down, peeking at her cleavage. Not bad. A long length of lacing, not unlike a shoelace in width, hung down and tickled her leg.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“Smooth. Stiff. Not as tight as I thought it might.”
“Look up to me when you talk to me.”
Damn. She looked up.
He met her gaze. “Will you submit to me tonight, Katrina? I’ll let you go in the morning, but I’d very much like to have possession of you for the evening.”
She wondered what it was like to be able to talk so frankly about your desires. She always found she could speak best in music, and even there she made a game of it, using symbols and turns of phrase and letting her listeners decipher what she meant. She tried to come up with a way to do that now. A strong woman would say yes. But oh how lovely it would be to be able to say no and still get what I want.
“Yes or no, Katrina.” He was still using her full name. No one called her that except her mother—and Brett.
He was still waiting.
“Yes, Sir,” she said at last. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders simply by saying the words. She’d been fiercely independent, since she’d moved from LA, and with Cindy, it was always clear that Kat had to be in charge. Now she could let go.
“Good. Your safe word for tonight is ‘blue.’ Can you remember that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now then, you said it doesn’t feel as tight as you expected?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s because I haven’t tightened it yet.” He moved behind her and traced his hand down the middle of her back. The back edges of the corset were still a few inches from each other, and his finger landed on bare skin, except where interrupted by lacing.
He took the lengths that were hanging down to her legs and pulled the ends forward, wrapping one loop around her waist in each direction and then holding them in front of her tummy. “Hold these tightly until I take them from you.”
She did so.
Then he worked on the lace in back. Deftly, he pulled first at the top, then at the bottom, then took the loops she held from her and pulled them tighter to take up the slack. It squeezed her middle, but it wasn’t uncomfortable exactly. He handed the loops back to her and started again. Top, bottom, middle.
She took a deep breath, or tried to, and nearly let go of the loops. She could breathe fine, as long as she breathed normally, but the fact that she couldn’t expand her lungs the whole way made her panic for a moment. He took the loops from her and held them and her, his arms around her waist, his now stubbly chin against the back of her neck. “Easy, darling. You can breathe, but don’t panic. We don’t have to make it any tighter than this. I could even loosen it if you need me to. Just breathe easy.” After he spoke, he synched his breath with hers. She could hear the air coming and going from him and knew he was right. She had to relax and trust him.
“Please,” she said.
“Please what?”
“Please I’d like to see what it feels like to have it a little tighter.”
He didn’t question her desire but tightened, again working in little bits. Top, bottom, middle.
She’d never felt anything quite like it before. It was like being tied up in a way, except her limbs were completely free to move. Still, the hard “bones” of the corset held her captive, shaping her body, squeezing her. They were as unforgiving as any tightly tied rope or chain. The corset was snug against her hips. It was like a vise around her waist, and her tits felt as if they were being grabbed and compressed by silk hands. She sneaked a peek downward, and her eyes went wide. She’d never seen her breasts look so big before. They didn’t just look huge; they looked firm, almost as if they’d pop if a pin was stuck in them. She wanted to see the expression in Brett’s face as he looked at them, but there were two problems. One, he was probably used to that particular look, even if it would make most men drool, and the second was that he was behind her and couldn’t see.
Well, if he’s used it, I’ll have to make it more over the top. So to speak. She already knew she couldn’t sing like this, so what the hell. “Tighter,” she said.
“No, I think that’s about as far as I want to take you right now.”
She turned her head sharply. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. Did she detect some amusement there too? She started to argue with him, and realized she’d gotten so wrapped up in the sensations she’d forgotten he was supposed to be in charge.
“May I ask why?”
“You may.”
She thought he was being a smart aleck for a moment, and then she realized he was giving her a chance to ask politely. “Why, Sir?”
“Because you were short of breath earlier. There’s a skill here, and it’s not a horribly complicated one, of taking shallow breaths often enough to get plenty of oxygen. If you were practiced at it, yes, the corset could be tighter. By a little less than an inch.” She could feel his hand on her back, and she wasn’t sure whether it was touching any skin or not, because her senses were confused. “Although I like this look on you. You have a very nice back, and the line of skin you’re showing between the laces is sexy. There. All tied up. Come with me.” He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom.
Standing still was one thing. Walking was another. She had no choice but to keep her back straight while she walked, and that was far stranger than she thought it would be. Concentrating on her posture distracted her from her breathing. This time she didn’t panic, and returned to taking shallow breaths. She didn’t even have time to think about why he was taking her to his bedroom, although when she saw the four-poster king-size bed, unmade but not disheveled, she thought she had an idea. Was he going to want to have sex with her while she was wearing this thing? The idea turned her on, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe, and she certainly wouldn’t be flexible.
She looked about his bedroom. Clothes were stuffed in a hamper, not strewn around the floor, which put him one up on most men she knew. There was a big oak dresser in a well-cared-for old-fashioned style with scrolling on the bottom and a nightstand that matched it. It was very different from the furniture Kat had stuffed in storage back in LA, which was all sharp corners and modern.
He led her to a floor-length wall mirror, not the bed. She looked at herself. She was fascinated because it didn’t look like her in some ways. Her waist wasn’t that small, for one thing. The corset didn’t make her look thin, exactly, but the outward curve of a soft belly had been replaced by the inward curve of an hourglass. And her boobs looked pretty good from straight on too, although as tall as he was, his angle was probably more like hers. She cared very much what they looked like for him, and she found that curious. She knew she wasn’t in perfect shape, but she was only a few pounds overweight, and at least some of her fat was in the right places. She’d always thought she was “good enough,” and if a man wasn’t satisfied without how she looked, it was his problem. Now, however, she wanted to look fantastic.
Brett gave her a hand mirror he must have gotten from the dresser and gently nudged her shoulder to get her to turn. She used it to look at her back, as he no doubt intended. As he’d said, the back panels of the corset were within an inch of each other, the space between crisscrossed by black lines. The narrow band of flesh between had been compressed, so there was a kind of cleavage line running down her back. She wouldn’t have thought that would be attractive. It was fat being squished, after all, and back fat wasn’t sexy. But it also revealed something of how tightly the corset bound her. Again she wanted him to pull it even tighter, to squeeze her waist in. If the panels
were all the way together, would that mean her waist would have to be made a whole inch smaller? She supposed it must.
This is addictive. The only thing she didn’t like was how the black vinyl skirt looked with the blue silk. With what she was wearing before, it looked edgy. Now it looked cheap and inadequate. She should be wearing a long blue skirt—or just lacy blue panties. She handed him back the mirror.
“You like it,” Brett said.
“I love it,” she gushed. She held back the Sir at the very last moment. She couldn’t afford the corset, but she didn’t want him to give it to her or have him feel like she was trying to get him to.
“It suits you. The color brings out the best in your eyes.” He leaned down to kiss her. She tilted her head to meet his lips and was disappointed in the briefness of the kiss. His lips brushed hers. She wanted his tongue. She wanted his arms around her.
She hadn’t felt this way for a very long time. She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself how much she missed it.
“You want more?” he asked.
“Yes.” She hadn’t intended to whisper, but that’s how it came out.
He put his hands on her waist and leaned closer. She wondered if the corset could squeeze her enough that his fingers could touch, but only for a moment. Then his lips touched hers again. She met his tongue with hers as his mouth covered her open, hungry mouth completely. She’d never felt a kiss quite like it: deep, possessing, breathtaking.
Literally. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen. She had it down before, but now she couldn’t quite keep up. Naturally, she breathed deeper to compensate. Her lungs didn’t expand enough for that. He shifted his hands slightly, one moving to her back. He had to be aware she was having trouble, but the kiss was going to last as long as he chose to have it happen. She couldn’t say her safe word, not with his tongue in her mouth. She reached up and put one hand on his shoulders—she couldn’t reach his chest because it was pressed against hers, and her other hand still awkwardly held a mirror—and got ready to push.
And then she relaxed. He was in charge. He’d taken care of her when she had told him to lace the corset tighter. He would stop before she passed out or anything like that. In the meanwhile his tongue felt so damn good.
He smiled knowingly at her when he pulled back at last. “Easy breaths,” he murmured to her. “It takes some getting used to.”
I’d love to get used to it. If she’d been in a position to pay for the corset, she would have felt so much better saying it. Instead she nodded and caught her breath.
He traced the globes of her breasts where they bulged over her bustline. “You like the way it looks, don’t you?” he asked her.
“Do you?”
He didn’t answer but met her gaze and held it until she realized what she’d done. “Yes, Sir, I like the way it looks. Does it please you, Sir?”
He grinned. “It pleases me very much.”
She was glad she’d told the truth. Being honest with a dom was like learning to breathe in the corset. You had to learn that you were okay and safe doing it. If you didn’t, you might panic, and in the process, make things worse. I’m never going to lie to him again. She wanted it to be true, but even as she thought it, she wondered. She hadn’t felt safe telling to whole truth to anyone for a long time.
“I think we need to make some changes, though.” He reached down to the zipper on her skirt and unzipped it. He must have found the zipper before, because he didn’t waste any time searching for it. She’d thought it was nicely concealed. He had to push the skirt over her hips, but then it dropped to the floor. She was glad to get rid of it. He’d already seen her practically naked anyway, and while she’d sometimes delighted in wearing clashing clothes onstage to shock, the vinyl had been plain wrong. She kicked her skirt to the side. He gripped the cheeks of her backside with both hands and gave them a squeeze, and she felt her pussy getting warmer in response.
He moved his hands up to her waist and gently turned her around. She wondered why, and then thought he might spank her. She wasn’t sure how that was going to work, with her back held straight and nothing to hold on to.
Instead, he slid his hand downward and dipped it into her panties. In the mirror she could see him, looking over her shoulder, and that meant he could see the front of her in it too. His hand brushed through her curls and then slipped across her wetness.
“Thought I might find you a little wet,” he murmured.
She didn’t think it was just a little. And she didn’t think he’d had any doubts, either. She moved her hips, pressing against his hand.
“You’re an eager slut, aren’t you?”
She was now. She didn’t even feel she could take umbrage at the word he used, given the way she felt. “Yes, Sir.” It felt strangely good to admit it.
“You came twice the other night. Do you think you deserve another?” He dipped his finger into her pussy.
Deserve? Hell with deserve; it was about desire. “Please, Sir.”
“Not right now, my little kitty. I intend to have you wait a while. Tonight, in fact, I intend to come first.” He moved his hand, and she thought he was taking it out of her panties for a moment, but he applied his slickened fingers to her clit. He moved them in a slow, circular motion that built up the tension in her core.
You’re not going to come first if you keep doing that.
“When you came to the club, you just wanted release, didn’t you? Some kink and an orgasm or two. You’d convinced yourself that was all you wanted.”
It was all she wanted. Wasn’t it? He said convinced like she might be wrong about her own desire. The fact that she was looking forward to him coming was quid pro quo. Maybe it was even an instinct, that she knew on some basic level that the way to keep her own pleasure coming was to make sure she kept her mate happy.
My mate? Where did that come from?
“I asked you a question.”
“I got kink and an orgasm, Sir. Two, even.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
She sighed. She was so close now, and she didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to come. “Yes, Sir, that was all I wanted.”
His finger slowed. “Can you hold on if I ask you to?”
She groaned. “Yes, Sir.” I think maybe, for a bit. But please don’t ask me.
“Don’t come until I tell you that you can. I need to show you something special.”
His finger moved with agonizing slowness. Something special. Did he mean that her climax would be stronger and better if she waited and let his hands bring her to a feverish edge? She gritted her teeth. So close. She tried not to think about it, because it didn’t help. She couldn’t look anywhere, because the mirror showed her in a corset being fingered by a big sexy guy, and that wasn’t going to help her hold back. She tried to focus on the details of the room, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Suddenly she remembered him saying he was going to come first, but there was no way, and the thought that she’d see his cock spurting made it harder not to come. One more touch, and I’m doomed.
He stopped.
She groaned. How could he know?
He hooked the waistband of her panties and pulled them all the way down to her ankles. “Pretty,” he said.
My God, he’s talking about my pussy. She’d never thought of it as pretty or even attractive. She knew guys liked trying to get in it and all, but it wasn’t pretty. She opened her mouth to argue with him, and then clamped it shut. Maybe it was to him.
She moved her hand toward it, to cover it up, and thought better of that too. If he turned his head, she could probably bring herself off in a few seconds, but having her hand that close and not being allowed to touch would be agony.
She knew better than to think she was allowed. She tried to concentrate on her breathing. She watched the tops of her breasts rise and fall over the edge of the corset.
He stroked her thighs and nibbled on her neck, keeping her on the edge. “You’ve come to believe you’re rathe
r selfish, haven’t you?”
“That’s because I am, Sir.” Didn’t going into the club like that prove it? And the other trips in LA? Hadn’t Angus always told her she was?
“We all have needs, Katrina. That doesn’t make us selfish. It makes us human. Would you like to help me satisfy mine?”
Yes. “You already told me I was going to, so why are you even asking?”
His breath was hot against the skin under her ear. She focused on that and was taken by surprise when he gave her a sudden, hard swat. He caught her before she stumbled forward against the mirror. “I didn’t tell you that. I told you I would come first. I could take care of myself, you know, if I wanted to. You wouldn’t have to do a thing. So quit questioning the premise of my questions and answer.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her bottom still stung. That hadn’t been gentle at all, but he didn’t look angry. Maybe he wasn’t. He was keeping control, and she couldn’t get it back without a safe word. She’d smarted off, and he spanked her. It was simple. She almost felt like trying it again, not because she wanted the pain but for the reassurance that she wouldn’t be allowed back in control. She was sick of being in charge. She felt soft and yielding, and she was used to having a hard edge. Somehow being with Brett made a difference, and she felt as if he could shape her as surely as the corset did. It was scary and comforting all at once. And hot.
He took a step back and pulled his shirt over his head. She could see most of him in the mirror, enough to make out a broad hard chest and rippling abs, but she wanted a better view. “May I turn around, Sir?”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
He kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks, and then met her gaze. She could see his erection shaping the front of his jeans, and she wanted to reach out and unzip him. Selfish.And greedy too.
“Undress me,” he ordered.
She couldn’t bend over very well, so she knelt on the hard floor. She couldn’t stay there long, she knew, or her knees would hurt, but for a few seconds, it was okay. She yanked open the top button on his jeans and pulled down the zip, and his cock sprang free. It was hard and thick and long. She put her hand around it, and her fingers barely touched. She pressed her lips to the head of it. I’d be lucky to get that in my mouth halfway. But she wanted it suddenly. Wanted to feel his hands on her head, pushing her to take him in as deep as she possibly could. Wanted him to be utterly, completely in control. Wanted him to be the selfish one.
Blue Desire Page 7
