by Nia Farrell
She undid the front clasp of her bra and slipped the straps from her shoulders. The mauve lace confection slid down her arms. Catching it, she tossed it onto her clothes. She put her fingers in the waistband of her panties. Holding her breath, she eased them down, watching Flynn’s face, wondering what he would think when he saw what she’d done. It had only taken a couple of extra minutes while she was in the bathroom changing clothes.
“What the…?” Flynn stared at her shaved pussy.
“Do you like it?” Suddenly unsure, she cursed herself for not asking him first. “If not, I’ll let it grow, Sir,” she remembered to add.
“Yes. No,” he blurted. “Yes, I like it. I would have shaved you myself the first chance I got. Getting rid of the bush makes you extra sensitive. I promise you’re gonna love how it feels—especially when I’m eating you out.”
Relieved beyond belief, she stepped free of her panties and dropped them on top of her bra.
“Very good,” Flynn said, nodding his approval. “To do the pins, I’m going to have you straddle a chair, facing it. Bend from the hips and keep your back straight when you lean into it. Keep your arms down, with your hands resting on your thighs and your front pressed against the back cushion. I need you braced when I’m working on you. Do you need to pee before we get started?”
Sara felt her cheeks warm. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
“Do you have something to put your hair up? A high ponytail should work to keep it out of the way.”
She kept a couple of covered rubber bands around the folding travel hairbrush in her purse. “Yes, Sir.”
He nodded. “Do your business, wash your hands, fix your hair, and get back in here. Go.”
Flynn was positioning the chairs when she returned.
“You’ll sit on this one after I cover it with towels.” He patted the upholstered kitchen chair. It was turned sideways, clear of the desk, with one front leg not quite touching the corner.
Fetching two towels from the bathroom, he folded one in half to pad the seat and draped the second over the back. Taking two fat rubber bands off his wrist, he transferred them to hers.
“I’ll work standing to start and use my desk chair when I go lower. Now, I want you right here to begin with.” He pointed to the front of the chair. “Bend over for me and put your forearms on the seat so I can prep you for the anal beads. I’ll be using a water-based anal lube on you and them.”
Sara assumed the position. Remembering Flynn’s possession, she wasn’t quite as nervous, but she’d never had a toy like that inside her. She didn’t know what to expect.
He slathered her hole outside and in, stretching her out with his fingers. When he started pumping, she arched her back and silently begged for more, wishing he had something to fill her pussy. Dripping wet, she ached with need.
He stopped short of letting her come. She bit her lip and groaned in frustration. Applying a liberal amount of lube to the string of balls, he pressed the first and largest one against her anus.
“Open up, sugar,” he said. “Push back like you’re voiding. You handled me. You can take this.”
They both pushed together. Her tissue stretched, opening to allow the sphere in and sliding closed behind it. One down and four to go. The next was easier, and the next and the next. He tucked the last one in and left the looped string handle dangling outside.
The balls had weight to them. The feel of them was hard to describe but they weren’t unpleasant. In fact, she kind of liked it. She almost expected something like Ben Wa balls—not that she’d know what they felt like. She’d been curious about them but Brad hadn’t been into toys. He hadn’t been much into anything besides himself. As long as he got his rocks off, everything was right in his world.
“You okay?” Concern laced Flynn’s voice.
Sweet man.
“Yeah. Just processing. They feel strange. In a good way.”
Bending down, Flynn hooked his finger on the rubber band and snapped her wrist.
“Ow!”
“Tell me why I did that. What did you forget?”
Her mind did a rewind. “Sir,” she hissed between her teeth. “I forgot to answer yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Flynn, Sir.”
“Just Sir,” he told her. “Now, I want you to sit in the chair like I told you. I’m going to wash my hands before I start on the pins. It takes a while to do a pattern. I’ll want to take a picture when it’s done. If I promise not to show your face, will you let me?”
“Yes,” she said, mostly because she wanted to see it, too.
“Excellent. Be a good girl, and I’ll get you off in a major way. If you like the feel of the anal beads now, just wait until later. When I finally let you orgasm, I’ll pull them out, real slow. You’ll come so hard and so long, you’ll be begging me to do it again.”
He headed for the bathroom. She straddled the chair, smoothing the towel beneath her and settling onto it. Keeping her back straight, she bent from her hips and leaned until her breasts were pressed against the back of the chair. She placed her hands on her thighs. Feeling the tension in her shoulders, she consciously relaxed them.
“I’m using one hundred ninety proof food grade alcohol to sterilize everything, starting with your back. The pins are clean and already sterilized. It will feel cool, but I’m gonna cover where I’ll be working.”
It felt like he swabbed her entire back, from neck to waist. The cooling alcohol made her shiver.
“You okay?”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered, still feeling the sting of his rebuke.
“Good. I’m going to start on your upper back, from left to right. Once I get the top part done, I’ll be working down both sides of your back. You’ll feel the sting of the pins going in. I know you can handle the twidge of pain. The main thing is to keep your back straight. If you bend, your skin will stretch and pull at the pins. I’ve never had one break, and I really don’t want to have to explain things to an ER doctor, so let’s not go there, okay? Back straight, just like you have it. That’s my good girl.”
Sitting still, she nearly forgot about the anal beads until Flynn would rub against the string while he worked. Her focus was on the glass-headed pins. Unlike the ones in the photographs with various colored heads, these were all tipped in shades of white—plain, swirled, and shimmering pearl—with different shaped heads and assorted lengths.
She panted shallow puffs and breathed through the pain, which was a delicious burn to her. The sensations made her more aroused than ever. She struggled to keep still and not wriggle in her seat. If she behaved, she’d get rewarded. The extended orgasm that he’d described sounded great right now.
By the time he finished, her back felt on fire.
Flynn photographed his handiwork with his phone and with his tablet. Circling to her front, he held the tablet where she could see.
Sara blinked the tears from her eyes and looked again.
Flynn had given her angel wings. Shimmering white pinheads outlined the rows in the scalloped top. More pins formed the feathers down both sides of her back. His artistry was pure genius.
“What do you think? There was a hesitance in his voice, an uncertainty that she wasn’t used to hearing from Flynn.
“They’re beautiful, Sir! Oh, my God.” She scanned the photograph, marveling at his gifts. “I know people get tattoos like this but the pins are so much better for me. I’m still buzzing from when you put them in.”
He bent to murmur in her ear. His hair brushed the side of her neck and made her shiver even before he spoke. “Is that so? Get ready to buzz harder.”
Sara quivered at the erotic promise in his voice.
“Put your hands on the chair seat. I need you to keep your back straight and stand up for me.”
She obeyed. Keeping her wrists straight, she planted her fists between her legs, slid her feet back, and stood. The subtle shift of her arms made the pins pinch. She lowered them to her sides and waited for his next instructions.
Fly
nn pulled the top towel off the chair, dropped it on the seat, and turned the chair ninety degrees. With its back toward the center of the room, he scooted the chair until its front legs were touching the wall.
Stepping to his desk, he came back with a pair of nipple clamps dangling from the chain looped over his fingers.
Her nipples were already erect. Just the sight of the clamps, and they felt hard enough to cut diamonds.
Flynn’s mouth curled upwards. He looked like a cat in a creamery…or a Dom in full command of a woman’s body.
He tweaked her nipple. She pressed her thighs together and whimpered. Locking her gaze on the clamp he was messing with, she watched as he fastened it on her right breast. She clenched her jaw and bit back a word that could get a kindergarten teacher fired.
“Too much?”
“Nngg! Yes. Sir.” She ground the words through gritted teeth.
He adjusted the tension until it didn’t feel like the end of her tit was getting chewed off. Instead, the pulsing ache touched a live wire that sent a bolt of electricity to her core. The anal beads taunted her, making her feel full when she clearly needed more. She was so wet, she could feel her juices trickling down one thigh.
Flynn opened the other clamp, fastened it on her nipple, and adjusted it to match the other side, giving her equal parts pleasure and pain. Taking his fingernail, he grazed the tip of her breast. She gasped and felt the beginnings of an orgasm, forming like a wave in the ocean. Given encouragement, it could become the tsunami that he’d predicted.
“Come,” he said. Hooking his fingers in the chain, he led her by the tits to the chair that he’d placed facing the wall. “Keep your elbows down and lift your hands to grip the back of the chair. Back straight, ass out. Fuck, you’re wet. Your pussy’s shiny with dew.”
Pushing in two fingers, he pulled them out and brought them to her lips. Obeying his unspoken command, she opened her mouth and sucked her juices from his fingers.
“Good girl,” he hummed. Reaching for his jeans, he popped the button and undid his zipper, teeth snicking as they parted. He kicked off his pants and piled them on the floor by the chair. His shirt followed. And his boxers. All that was left was ink and skin.
He caught the loop of the anal beads and gave it a teasing tug. She moaned at the sensation. Lifting it out of his way, he wet the head of his cock with her natural lubrication, found her opening, and worked his way inside her hungry pussy, feeding her his length until she was more than full of him.
He tugged the cord again. “You feel that?” he rasped, drawing an erotic circle with his hips. “The beads in your ass. My cock in your cunt. It’s probably as close to double penetration as you’ve been in your life, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she breathed, lost in sensation when his hips moved again in an erotic bump and grind that begged for more.
Snap!
She felt his reprimand on her wrist.
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped. The sting only made her wetter.
Flynn hummed his satisfaction. “I’ve never fucked an angel. This,” he rumbled, “feels like heaven, with you as full as one man can make you.”
Reaching around her, he cupped and squeezed her breast. Holding it, he lowered his chest and pulled her slowly back against him, pressing against the dozens of pins that were threaded under her skin. The feel of it was enough to trigger a small orgasm.
He tugged the chain between her nipples and nudged her over the edge again.
Sliding his hand south, he cupped her clean-shaven pussy and felt the change that she’d made for him. Delving deeper, he found her clit and rubbed it between his fingers. With the anal beads and eight inches of cock inside her, she was already on the verge of coming.
He drew it out, lifting his chest off her back and keeping them joined at the hips, anchoring her to him with the touch of his fingers and the grip of his hand. He teased her clit, bringing her to the edge time and again. This time, though, he didn’t ease up. He stroked her with his fingers. The familiar pressure built.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
Her body stiffened, bracing itself for the torrent that was coming. The moment his fingers brought her to a climax, Flynn slipped out of her and pulled on the string, drawing out the smallest bead while her pussy spasmed and her juices flowed. The sensation of her body opening and closing around the bead made her gasp. The second one was bigger and better yet. Her orgasm kept rolling, making her even more sensitive to the third bead and the fourth, until only one was left. The first bead to go in. The biggest. Her sphincter stretched around it as it passed, closing behind it, only to open again when Flynn stuck his cock in her ass and drove into her.
She came so hard, she squirted.
Flynn wasn’t far behind. Gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises, he snapped his pelvis and plowed into her, tunneling deep before he came with a guttural cry.
Streams of hot cum spurted inside. His body jerked and shuddered behind her. At last, he stilled and stayed exactly where he was, with his angel wing pins in her back and their bodies intimately joined.
“God damn.” Still half-hard, he pushed into her, grinding his hips against her buttocks. “So good,” he rasped. “That was so good. Jesus Christ. I just want to stay buried inside you, but I need to get these pins out. Painslut that you are, you’ll probably come again when I do—and that’s okay. I’m not into orgasm control like a lot of Doms. Most of the time, I’ll want to watch you come, whether or not it’s on command. Chances are, when I make you wait, it will be a punishment. Not tonight, though. Tonight, you’ve been a good girl for the most part. I only had to spank your wrists twice.”
He was right. She did come again when he took out the pins, wiping each one down with alcohol as they came out. When the last one was gone, he swabbed her entire back with alcohol and brought her to the brink again with the burn.
All she wanted to do was take her meds and sleep. Flynn let her do the first but he made her take a shower with him, carrying her into the bathroom with her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms clasping his neck, and his hands gripping her ass.
The water felt heavenly. They showered without interruption but didn’t linger. Sara was so replete, it was all she could do to keep her eyes open and her body upright.
Flynn dried her off, carefully patting her back and checking it once more while she took her meds. She didn’t know how long he’d make her wait between sessions, but already she couldn’t wait for the next one. He’d been right. The endorphin rush she’d gotten was amazing. Now that she’d been introduced to needle play, she could probably forego the tattoo if she wanted to.
But she wouldn’t. She wanted what Flynn had designed for her. She wanted him to mark her body, to put his energy into every punch of the needle and make the memorial tattoo his as much as it was hers.
Tomorrow, she told herself, hiding another yawn behind her hand. Nestling her head onto Flynn’s pillow and breathing in his scent, she looked across and met the gaze of the most amazing man she’d ever known.
After everything that had happened, after all that she had lost, she’d nearly given up on finding happiness. To find it with someone like Flynn was unexpected. Miraculous, almost.
She wasn’t about to question it. Whatever plan God had for her life, she was certain that Flynn was a part of it.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, too heavy to do anything but close. Rather than fight sleep, she drifted seamlessly into it.
For the first time in three years, Sara fell asleep counting her blessings.
And for the first time in three years, she slept all through the night, secure in the knowledge that Flynn would keep her safe, come what may.
Don’t miss the exciting conclusion to the Avenging Angels MC Season One!
REAPER
Avenging Angels MC Book 4
Blood will be shed. Secrets will be revealed.
Life at the Avenging Angels clubhouse will never be the same.
Coming November 8,
2018
Author’s Biography
Nia Farrell is the author of one of The 50 Best Indie Books of 2016, a 2016 Golden Flogger Finalist, and a founding member of the Wicked Pens. A multi-genre writer published in nonfiction, poetry, music, articles, and children’s books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt, she’s an old soul and a period reenactor who’s been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days.
Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years. She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes. In her book Something More, BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD, earning a nomination for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, in the 2016 Golden Flogger Awards. She was nominated for Favorite MC Author, The Best of the Best 2017.
Her debut books from The Three Graces series, Something Else, Something Different, and Something More, are kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it’s her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States, with a Monty-Python-inspired diner that’s central to the plot lines.
Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soul mate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing novels at her husband’s suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.
AUTHOR LINKS
Nia Farrell, Erinn Ellender Quinn, and Ree L. Diehl’s webpage
http://bit.ly/NiaErinnReeWP
Nia Farrell, Erinn Ellender Quinn, and Ree L. Diehl’s Facebook group
https://www.facebook.com/groups/THEFOLD3/
Nia Farrell, Erinn Ellender Quinn, and Ree L. Diehl’s MeWe group
https://mewe.com/join/the_fold
Nia Farrell, Erinn Ellender Quinn, and Ree L. Diehl’s monthly newsletter
http://bit.ly/NiaErinnReeNews
