Through it all, a comment Vanessa had made stuck with her. “Usually when couples from the scene come to me, they want some kind of slave contract drawn up. Not that it’s legally enforceable, of course, but people like to have something. It’s nice to be able to work on some real law for you two.”
Brett hadn’t objected, she noticed, to being referred to as a couple. Were they, though? She supposed she’d know by the time the week was over. And what then? Would she sign a contract, the way Vanessa described? Was that what she wanted? Kat felt like she’d had enough now of contracts to last her a lifetime, but the idea of being bound to Brett was appealing. Or being bound by him. Every thirty minutes? This is more like every fifteen.
It was certainly very different from the feeling that made her visit a BDSM club once a month or so. Or sleeping with someone because it kept a band together. The more she thought about that, the more she felt stupid about it.
When they got back to his building, the sight of the stairs was enough to set her off again. Was Brett going to have her start shedding clothes before they even got into his apartment?
“What are you thinking about?” Brett asked her, squeezing her hand. His other hand held the larger and heavier of her two suitcases.
“Sex,” she said.
He chuckled. “And what are you thinking about sex?”
“Do we have to have this conversation in the stairway?” She tried to take the steps faster.
He had a grip on her hand and was having none of it. “Yes.”
There wasn’t anyone there, so she supposed she couldn’t complain too much. “You said the next time would be all about you.”
“And?”
“I was thinking of all the things you might do to me.”
“Tell me.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
“Dammit.” They’d reached the second floor and were heading toward the third. She heard footsteps up ahead. Double damn.
“In a moment,” said Brett. “Morning, Mrs. Adelson.”
“Morning, Brett,” said a portly woman in her sixties who was heading down. She narrowed her eyes to look at Kat and then continued. Kat moved aside to let her by.
“She knows exactly what we’re going to be doing, doesn’t she?” whispered Kat. Onstage, her ripped tank top made a good statement. On the streets, she thought it made her look trampy.
“She has five kids and fifteen grandkids, so I imagine she has a general idea, yes. But no, not exactly. Now then, you were going to tell me about all the things I might do to you.”
She sighed. He wasn’t going to let that go, was he? That was the problem, she supposed, with being around a dominant man. “Well, I could get you off with my hands. Or my mouth. That would be all about you.”
“Yes, it would.”
“Or you could fuck my ass again. But that… I don’t know. That wasn’t all about you the last time.”
He chuckled. “I don’t have to go to great lengths to avoid your pleasure, little kitty. That’s not the point. It’ll never really be all about any one of us. But go on. I can tell there’s more.”
She bit her lip. “I wonder, actually, if you might slide your cock in between my breasts.”
“I thought you didn’t like having your breasts played with.”
He opened the door.
“I didn’t. I—well, it was fun last night. But if I don’t, that just makes it more about you, doesn’t it? And I like, um, suffering, if it’s for your pleasure. And then because I like it, it’s not suffering. I can’t explain that.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s different when it’s with you. For you.”
“That,” he said smugly, “is because I’m your Master.” He set the suitcase inside and half pushed, half spanked her bottom to usher her into the apartment. “Those are all good ideas, Kat, and I’m glad we have a whole week to explore them. For now, though, let’s start with a shower.”
She headed toward the bedroom and the bathroom attached to it, only to have him grab her wrist.
“You take your clothes off right here, Kat. I told you. You’re not wearing clothes in my home. With the possible exception of that corset. When you’re done, come join me in the shower.” He let go and walked away.
She looked forward to wearing the corset again, but the shower sounded heavenly.
* * * *
The problem with sex in the shower is that while everything seemed so very nice and slippery, the fact was that water tended to wash away both a woman’s natural lubricant and any artificial ones. So Brett didn’t try to fuck her in the shower, even though his balls were aching. It had taken a great deal of willpower to avoid taking her the night before, but he could see that she had been exhausted. He’d put on a calm act while making her talk about the ways he could use her. Inside he wasn’t calm at all. He made a mental note to do each and every one of those things to her before the week was through, but tonight he had other plans. He was going to do exactly as he wished, and he suspected she’d enjoy it as well.
His cock rubbed against the crease of her ass while he soaped her breasts, moved down to her stomach, and then cleaned her pussy. Her soap-slippery breasts brushed against his chest when she turned and returned the favor, rubbing lather on his cock with slow strokes that had very little to do with getting him clean.
He decided a detour on the way to his plan wasn’t so bad after all.
He slipped a finger in her ass, and she squealed. Her hand tightened pleasurably on his shaft.
“You do that, and I’m going to come on you,” he warned her.
“It washes off. More’s the pity,” she told him.
“I’ll still do what I was planning after we get out.”
“It’s not up to me, is it?”
“No. It’s not. Finish me off.”
Her eyes glittered, and she looked down. Her hand sped up. He could feel the tension in his cock build as she pleasured him. It occurred to him then that he hadn’t been quite this way with any woman for a very long time, if ever. Yes, he’d been pleasured, but the quid pro quo had always been quite clear. He wiggled his finger and watched her twitch, but it didn’t shake her focus on what she was doing.
He could feel his juices surging for release, and then he came. She watched his cock spurt over her hand and her belly with rapt intensity. She reached down and rubbed it into her stomach, making circles with her hand. Then she looked up, shyly. He wondered if her fans could even imagine that look on her face—vulnerable, yet happy.
He was falling in love. He knew it, now, but he still didn’t want to say it. Not until the week was up, at least. Too many things could happen, and telling her he loved her could make some of those things worse instead of better. He pulled his finger out and let it wash clean.
“The water softens your skin for the rope I’m going to tie around you, little kitty.”
“Oh. Yes, Master.” Her eyes widened. “Yes. Why is it all I want to say around you is yes?”
“Is that a good feeling?”
“It’s the best.”
“Then we don’t have to question it. I’ll make sure it’s always safe to say.”
“That sounds absolutely lovely.”
They finished cleaning and toweled each other off. Then he led her to the bedroom. He got out a long coil of navy-blue rope. He’d bought it while she was practicing with Cindy, after seeing how well the blue corset suited her.
“Why do you want to tie me up, Master? I won’t go anyplace.” Her eyes were wide and innocent, but he suspected there might be a trace of a knowing smile on her lips.
“Maybe I don’t—” He was about to say trust you, and he would have meant it simply as a tease, but given what they’d been through, it might not be taken as lightly as he meant it. She’d told some fibs, but she hadn’t told one about Angus when it mattered, not quite, anyway. As a result, he did trust her. “Care about that,” he finished. “I enjoy you not being able to move. The rope pressing into your ski
n. The pattern of blue over your pale flesh.”
“It’s not that pale,” she protested. “I get out in the sun every once in a while.”
“It’s lovely, Katrina.” Her skin was very light, definitely giving the lie to the idea that people from California all came with tans. “Lie down on the bed. Faceup.”
She nodded and complied, one leg bent so her knee was up. “I— You’re looking at me. Are you sure I can’t roll over?”
“So you don’t have to see me looking at you?”
“Yes.”
“This is all about me, remember? And I like looking.” He chuckled as a thought struck him. “Although it is kind of amazing that a woman who is perfectly happy being onstage and being the total focus of hundreds of people can be shy because one man is watching her.”
“I’m not naked onstage.”
“You’re not ashamed of your body.”
“No.” She bit her lip. “Maybe no one looks at me quite the way you do. Not even in a club, and I’ve been, well, naked in a club. With other men.”
He felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. “How do I look at you?”
“Like you’re thinking about all the nasty things you’re going to do to me, and you’re absolutely sure you’re going to get to do them. Like you own me.”
“For a week.”
“Yes.” She shivered.
“You cold?”
“Not at all.”
He smiled to himself. In that case, he’d enjoy her shiver. He draped some rope over her thigh, below her bent knee, so she could see it. “See how lovely that looks against your skin?”
She took a deep breath in. “Yes, Master.”
“Give me your wrists.”
She held her hands up, pressing her forearms together. He wrapped the rope around them several times, giving it enough thickness that it wouldn’t bite into her wrists when he tightened the rope. Then he cinched them. There was an extrasharp pair of surgical scissors in the bag under his bed, perfect for cutting rope off a distressed slave girl if there wasn’t time to untie her. He pulled the bag out, found the scissors in the pocket where it always was in case he needed it in a hurry, and cut the rope short. Usually, he liked to have his rope precut, so that he’d have the right length for whatever he needed, but he hadn’t had time to prepare the blue properly. By the time he was done, it would be measured perfectly for her body.
“It’s tight,” she said.
“Do you have good feeling in your hands?” Too tight could cut off circulation. He wasn’t going to leave it up to her to decide how tight they should be, but he would make sure it didn’t hurt her either.
She smiled. “Yes. I just meant that I can’t pull them apart.”
“That was the idea, yes.” He wrapped some rope around her forearms, tied it off, and cut the remnant off again. “Show me how well you can lift your arms with them like that.”
She lifted them. She couldn’t move them off the center line of her body very well, and her upper arms had been resting on her breasts and obstructing his view. She couldn’t get them very high, but she could at least get them off her chest. It was good enough for what he had in mind.
He took hold of her shoulders and lifted her up into a sitting position. She might have been able to sit without help, but he didn’t regard watching her do sit-ups as particularly erotic. While she watched he measured out the amount of rope he would need and then doubled it up. He sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped a double width of rope around her torso under her breasts. Then he wrapped it around again, this time on top of her breasts. He tied it tight and cut off the extra.
“Playing with my breasts again. You know that—”
He raised his eyebrows. “I know what?”
“Never mind. It’s not about me. It’s about you.” She closed her eyes, and her face relaxed into a smile. She was a very submissive woman underneath all the bluster and the “do me” attitude she’d had when he first met her.
He stood up and measured out some more rope. Again, he doubled it up and then looped it behind her neck. Her eyes bolted open.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll keep you safe. There won’t be anything pressing against the front of your neck, ever.”
She nodded. “I knew that. I know I’m safe with you. I just—”
“Trust doesn’t come easy.”
She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Trust when you can. You don’t need to force it. And you’re not bad for not trusting. Just never let it stop you from telling me the truth. I will keep you safe.”
She nodded and smiled. “I know it. In my head. Please go on.”
He draped the rope down her body and then looped each strand through the ropes above and below her breasts, cinching the horizontal ropes with the vertical ones. The rope below her breasts pushed into them from below and the other from above, squeezing them. He stopped to brush her nipples with his fingers and was rewarded with a delicious shiver. Given her sensitivity, he wasn’t going to wrap the rope around each breast; it might be too much for her. This was enough. He tied another knot in the two vertical strands, this time even with her belly button, because he liked the way it looked.
“Comfortable?”
She giggled. “That’s not the word I’d use. But I’m fine, Master.”
“What word would you use?” He tied another knot in the rope, farther down.
“Um.Turned on. A bit anxious. But fine, really. Fine. Fine fine fine.”
“You certainly are.” He kissed her, and while she melted into his kiss, he lifted her bottom and tossed the rope under her, between her legs. It would flick against her pussy and her ass like a flogger, he knew, and she shook in his arms when it struck.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“I’m used to working a scene out beforehand. Step by step.”
“Do you prefer that?”
“No.”
“Good.” He was used to it too. You had to do it that way, when you didn’t know your partner. Or if you didn’t trust them if things got off-kilter. He was getting to know Katrina quite well, however, and he was enjoying it. He was looking forward to knowing her even better. He let her go and got on the bed behind her.
Then he pulled the rope tight, knowing that the knot he’d tied in it would rest quite nicely on her clit. Another shiver. God, he loved seeing that. He wondered if she knew she was doing it or how much her body gave her away. He wanted to see more of her reactions, because there was a raw honesty in them, and she was so beautiful.
He pawed through his bag and found what he wanted. He tied another knot in the rope and then let it lie there on the bed. Then he poured plenty of lube on to a slender black butt plug. It would be cool and shocking to her, but he wanted another one of those shivers. He pulled her cheeks apart and then slid the plug into her ass.
He wasn’t disappointed by her reaction, although it was more like a jump than a shiver.
The problem with a slender plug was that there was a tendency for them to come out before it was time, which he didn’t find sexy, and he suspected Katrina would find embarrassing. He pulled the rope between her cheeks, and as planned, the knot rested against the flange at the base of the plug. He tugged it taut and tied it around the ropes that crossed her back. The plug wasn’t going anywhere.
He got one more thing out of his bag, put it out of her vision, and then walked around in front of her. He was hard now, and he saw her gaze go to his cock. “You’re beautiful,” he told her. “And I think you look even better tied up.” Her arms had relaxed and were resting on her chest. Even though it was the natural place for them, the way her elbows covered her nipples gave her an almost demure appearance—as demure as anyone could look tied up and naked.
“Thank you.”
“And helpless.Although that bit is mostly for you.”
She blinked. And then shrieked as he picked her up and pulled her l
egs out from under her, so that she was lying on her back again, faceup. Then she noticed the vibrator lying next to her.
“Spread your legs, darling.”
She hesitated a moment, then bent her knees, and only then followed direction. She looked ever so fuckable like that, although the way he had her tied, his cock would chafe against the rope if he fucked her. He’d known that. He had other things in mind. He grabbed the vibrator, a big purple thing with five speeds and bumps all over its surface. It had been recommended to him by a previous lover, but he wasn’t going to tell Katrina that unless she asked. He was starting to think that every past experience in his life, every other woman, was somehow all about preparing him for Katrina. They were the homework, and she was the final exam. The one who mattered.
He parted the ropes between the knot at her clit and the one on her ass and slid two of his fingers inside her. He could have slid the vibrator straight in, but he had wanted to feel for himself. She was even wetter than he’d expected, and he had been sure he’d find her wet. She moaned in frustration as he pulled his fingers out, and then in relief as he pushed the vibrator in. He turned it on low and pulled the ropes back over it to hold it there.
He held her gaze as he sucked his fingers clean. She tasted tangy and metallic, and he took his time, savoring the taste of her. She bit her lip.
He got out the rope and tied it around her thighs, making her legs close. She squirmed. He tied her ankles. He didn’t want to tie her to the bed, not this time, but he didn’t want her thinking she could go for a walk either. He wanted her to know that she was restrained. He hadn’t been lying about saying that her sense of helplessness was for her, not for him, because he’d seen how she responded when he controlled her movements, how her pulse quickened when he tightened the corset or held her against the wall.
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