by Tina Donahue
“Not so fast.” Connor held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Leaning down, he said, “I say that. I’m the director. Don’t you ever forget it.”
His confident authority and size would have made any sane woman squeal with delight. In a manner befitting the slave Eve, Nikki murmured, “No sir.”
The left side of his mouth quirked up in a mischievous smile. “Go to the table. No, wait.”
She froze on her next step. “Why?”
“The strap.”
Oh. Nikki returned and offered it to him again.
Connor hung it on the wall.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Was he planning to choose one of the crops instead?
“I want you to film this,” he directed Mitch. To her, he said, “Take the belt from the wall and offer it to me as you did before, only this time with your head down and your hands lifted.”
“Is there any other way?”
Not returning her grin, he glanced at Mitch, who had the camera positioned and was ready to roll.
“Not yet,” Connor said to his brother. “You don’t do anything until I say ‘let’s make a film’.”
“Because he’s the director,” Nikki explained.
Mitch laughed.
Connor arched one brow that said he didn’t appreciate her teasing. However, she saw the playfulness in his eyes.
“This is how we’re going to do the scene,” he said. “After you offer me the means of disciplining you, you’ll go to the table. There, you’ll bend over the edge, placing your wrists within reach of the manacles. After I lock you in them and your ankles to the table’s legs, then—”
“Wait, what?” she interrupted. “There are manacles there too?”
“You bet.”
By God, there were.
“You’ll be confined without the possibility of escape,” Connor said. “You’ll lean forward and take the leather-covered phallus into your mouth.”
Nikki regarded it, gauging it to be larger than any man she’d ever seen. She wondered how she’d get it to fit. How it might taste. “Okay. Why?”
“To quiet your moans while I’m punishing you.” He leaned down to her as he had before, only this time his mouth was close to her ear, his breath silky and hot.
Nikki trembled.
Connor murmured, “It’s to let you know that you’re my possession, I’m in charge just like all men are when it comes to you. You’ll do whatever we demand. We’ll bring you pain and pleasure, a powerful combination you won’t be able to resist.”
She turned her face to his, catching the scent of beer on his breath, feeling his heat, stirred by his proximity. Another few inches and their lips would touch. Nikki softened even more, wanting it.
Connor eased back, denying her. “You’ll keep your eyes open, your attention on what you see in the mirror. Each time I lift the strap, you’ll know, anticipating it coming into contact with your flesh, whipping you into further submission, the crack of it preceding the warmth rushing through your skin, dampening your cunt even more for my cock.”
Her mind pictured what he’d said. With her wrists and ankles shackled, she’d have no means of escape. Legs spread, her openings would be available for him to use. Would he mount her vaginally and anally while squeezing her spanked cheeks reddened from discipline?
Nikki sucked her bottom lip, imagining it.
“Make certain you zoom in on her eyes and mouth,” he said to Mitch. “I want her reaction to what’s happening.”
“You got it. What about you? I keep your face out of the shot, right? So you won’t be recognized?”
“Film me from the chest down. That should keep anyone from knowing it’s me.”
“Except for Shoshana,” Nikki mumbled.
Both men looked at her.
“We talked,” she confessed, then pointed out the obvious. “You guys don’t look anything alike.”
Connor frowned. “Shoshana said that?”
“No, I’m saying it. Up until now, my master in this has been Mitch. He doesn’t have chest hair, you do. There’s a mole on his right pec. You don’t have one there. His cock is longer, but yours is thicker, the veins more prominent. Your balls hang down a bit more than his do. Your pubic hair and what’s in your pits aren’t the same shade as his.”
Connor’s frown deepened. Mitch didn’t look any happier. They regarded their own bodies, then each other’s, no doubt trying to determine whose was superior.
“You’re both awesome,” Nikki assured. “It’s just that the first couple of scenes with Mitch’s body won’t match these. We might have to do this whole thing over from the top.” Several more times in fact, without the rest of the cast. “Just to make sure we get it right.”
“We might,” Connor said. “Or here’s a thought. Mitch should punish you like I said from the beginning.”
Nikki wasn’t going to let him get off that easy. “Do you want him to?”
Connor’s darkening expression proved he did not. Unless his annoyance was because he didn’t appreciate her needling him.
Mitch broke the silence. “It doesn’t matter which one of us is in this scene or the others. Any guy that watches this won’t be looking at either of our bodies. They’ll be concentrating on Nikki’s boobs, cunt and ass to the exclusion of everything else.”
“You got a point,” Connor said. “No one will notice that the master is different in this scene.”
Shoshana would, though Nikki wasn’t about to bring her up again. “You’re the boss.”
Connor smiled. “That’s right. Let’s make a film.”
The sexiest words Nikki had ever heard. In her peripheral vision, she saw Mitch moving closer, taking the shot. As she’d done earlier, she touched the crops and cat ‘o nine tails first, a bit more tentatively this time, then selected the belt. Head down, pulse racing, she offered it to Connor.
With it in dangling from his fist, he said, “Go to the table.”
There, Nikki spread her legs so they’d reach the shackles on the floor. She placed her hands palm down on the wood and noted her reflection in the mirror. Her glitter was intact. So were her feathers, the shadows they created hiding her blush. Only her parted lips and shallow breaths revealed her escalating expectation and desire.
Connor secured her ankles first, the cool bite of the metal and its snap jarring her. He ran his hand up the inside of her leg, touching the back of her knee, her thigh, edging closer to her cunt.
Nikki moaned. He stood, imprisoning her wrists within the manacles, his erect cock brushing her buttocks, tempting her as his fingers just had. It was beyond her endurance. She wanted him inside her now and fought against the restraints.
“Stop it.” He pushed her hands back to the table. “You don’t move. You submit.”
“Unless she’s changed her mind,” Mitch said.
“Have you, Nikki?” Connor asked.
She huffed out a frustrated sigh and shook her head. “Not even close.”
“Then do as you’re told,” he ordered.
Easy for him to say. Biting back an oath, Nikki leaned forward to take the leather phallus in her mouth. It was farther away than she’d anticipated, causing her to strain for it. In doing so, she had to stand on tiptoes, which lifted her ass even more.
“Good,” Connor said, one hand on the crease between her cheeks, the other gripping the belt he’d soon use on her. “Take as much of it into your mouth as you can.”
The texture was identical to skin, the flavor a surprise. Instead of leather, Nikki tasted cinnamon and sugar. Gratified, she licked its contours, moving her lips down its length, watching herself. She looked positively decadent, trapped and helpless, awaiting her master’s next move.
“Film her, not me,” Connor said, stepping away. “Take a close up of her eyes now and her lips around the phallus.”
“Where are you going?” Mitch asked.
“Here.”
In the mirror, Nikki saw Connor stop at a table next to
the door. He grabbed a long tube of something she hadn’t noticed earlier.
“What is that?” Mitch asked.
“Lubrication.” He picked up a shiny red packet next.
A condom. He was going to take her anally after whipping her. Nikki sank her teeth into the phallus, her heart beating wildly. She watched in fascination as Connor returned, the strap hanging over his shoulder. Placing the lubrication and rubber on another small table to the right, he went to her side, facing his brother.
Mitch pressed the camera’s stop button, pulling the equipment from his eye. “You’re going to punish her now?”
Connor wrapped the end of the belt twice around his palm, then whipped it into the air, testing it.
Nikki whimpered at the snapping sound it made.
“Yep,” Connor said.
“You’re still okay with this?” Mitch asked her.
She couldn’t wait. “Yeah,” she said around the phallus.
Connor bent at the waist, his face close to hers. “What was that?”
“You have changed your mind?” Mitch asked, also bending down to her.
Nikki eased back, freeing her mouth. “No damn way.”
“If you do at any time,” he said, “let us know.”
“If I pound the table with my fists, you’ll know to stop. Until then, let’s do this. Let’s make a fucking film.”
“Hey,” Connor said, smacking her ass with the flat of his hand. “You don’t get to say that.”
“Then punish me for it,” she goaded.
Mitch whistled at her gall. Connor smiled. The kind a master gives his slave when he knows she’s been bad and will pay dearly for it. “You bet I will.”
His promise stripped her of any protection. He’d now do what he wanted…what she’d insisted upon. Her nudity seemed more complete than ever before, her vulnerability absolute. She dug her nails into the wood’s rough surface, not caring that it would ruin her manicure. She eased her mouth over the phallus, resuming her earlier position.
Connor directed Mitch to start filming again. He turned the camera back on, lifting it to his eye.
The rain pounded harder against the window’s panes. Downstairs, rock music played, its raucous thump-thump-thump weakened by distance. Connor rounded the table, taking in his slave, the sacrifice of her body, freedom and will to his. His pace was painstakingly slow, his manner imperious. Stopping to her right, he flicked the belt twice, well above her head, but close enough to let Nikki know what she was in for.
The suspense made her dizzy. Her fingers ached from pressing them into the table, her toes from the awkward position. The air was humid and oppressive, her cunt aching for relief she wouldn’t soon get.
Mitch inched closer. So did Connor.
She watched his reflection in the mirror. He lifted his arm to shoulder height and pulled it back, his biceps tensing, fingers clutching the leather, the end of it swinging free then coming down.
Nikki heard the strap’s whistle a second before it cracked against her buttocks. Her mouth sagged open at the resultant sting, the phallus preventing her from crying out. Tears pricked her eyes. Not from pain, but the rush of warmth flowing through her, like nothing she’d ever known. She purred, wanting more.
Connor whipped her again, a bit harder this time.
Her cunt was dripping, her nipples tapping the table with her jagged breaths. He brought the strap down twice more. Unbelievable sensations raced from her ass to her cunt, past her throat to the top of her head. Nikki had to keep herself from making fists, fearful Connor or Mitch would misinterpret her reaction and stop.
She submitted even more, lifting her ass to meet each lick of the strap, watching her punishment, seeing the perspiration coating her throat, the sweat rolling down Connor’s chest.
He panted as much as she did, at last flinging the belt aside. It hit one of the walls with a solid thwack and fell to the floor. He grabbed the lubrication.
“Get a shot of this,” he ordered Mitch, then paused to gulp air. “I want a close up of me putting it on her.”
The muscles within Nikki’s pussy twitched. She jerked at how cold the substance was, him touching her anus.
“Don’t,” Connor said, grabbing her spanked cheek, squeezing it to let her know she had to hold still.
The pain he generated was minimal, the excitement brutal and rich. She stopped wiggling, welcoming whatever he did.
With the camera recording his actions, Connor continued to smear the lubrication on her anus, taking his time as though he wanted to draw out her subjugation. On her helpless whimper, he pushed his finger inside her.
The assault was so intimate, so damn autocratic, Nikki bit into the phallus, her only means of maintaining some control. To submit as he’d ordered, allowing him to continue.
Seconds stretched into minutes with him exploring this part of her, heedless of her quickened breaths and moans. She was so narrow his finger seemed enormous, inadequate to prepare her for his rod that was at least three times thicker.
His manner said the matter was hers to worry about, his to enjoy. Finished with moistening her entry, he released his finger and spoke to Mitch.
“Get a shot of her eyes again while I do this.”
Nikki heard him tearing the condom’s wrapper. She pictured him taking the silky latex out and easing it up his length so he could bury himself within her anus. Did he expect her to be untried there? She was with him. That’s all that mattered.
He continued to direct Mitch. “As soon as I’m ready, film my cock penetrating her.”
“Did they have rubbers in those days?”
“I’ll Photoshop it out. Just do it.”
No freaking kidding. Any more delay would have her fighting the restraints again, pounding her fists into the damn table, crying out as she wanted to do at this moment…not in frustration, but satisfaction at what Connor was doing.
He pressed the head of his cock into her anus, assessing the strength of her barrier. It was no match for his conviction to have what he now owned. He opened her as a master would, his actions insistent, demanding she relax her muscles, granting him full entry, or risk another whipping.
Nikki wanted that, but craved this first, acceding to his body’s demands, allowing hers to become a means to his satisfaction.
He didn’t rush, stretching Nikki beyond what she thought she could endure, his crown feeling huge within her anus. When it was firmly inside, he placed his fingers on either side of her cheeks, pulling them apart. It was so wonderfully wanton, Nikki trembled.
Mitch dipped the camera, recording his brother piercing her flesh, sinking deeper, yet still not fully within.
Nikki guessed over half of his cock was inside. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than every blessed inch. Nor would she. Calling on the same grit that had seen her through other challenges, Nikki relaxed her muscles and wiggled her ass, encouraging him to try again.
Connor pressed his fingers into her buttocks. A chastisement because she’d dared move? No. A means to anchor her as he eased back slightly, then plunged deeper. She gasped, the phallus muting the sound. He groaned without censure, the same as any man seeking fulfillment.
Not content with the space that still separated them, he labored to get closer, using her shamelessly, shuddering when their bodies finally touched.
The sting of his entry had long since passed, replaced by pleasure so enjoyable Nikki could scarcely breathe.
Connor was having the same difficulty. “Her eyes and mouth,” he gasped.
“What about them?” Mitch asked.
He sounded distracted, absorbed by the act. Nikki couldn’t blame him. Connor had taken to easing out of her, then thrusting back inside to open her as much as he could. Even if he’d had a sudden change of mind and directed her to resist, she couldn’t. This was too sinfully wicked to stop.
He pumped steadily, his pace matching the incessant bass coming from downstairs, his sac tapping her ass.
“Get
a shot of them,” Connor panted.
“Of what?” Mitch asked.
“Them, dammit.”
“Huh?”
Mitch sounded so far gone, Nikki couldn’t help but giggle. Connor cut it short with one slow stroke across her clit that made her hair stand on end. She whimpered, wanting him to continue. He ran his fingers down her cleft instead. An easy matter given how wet she was.
As if that pleased him, he returned to her nub, rubbing it as he used her anus for his own gratification. His groans and her muffled gasps mingled, drowning out the music and the rain’s noise. Beneath all the sounds, Nikki heard Mitch.
He breathed as heavily as they did. Watching him in the mirror, she saw he’d forgotten about the camera, cradling it beneath his arm rather than filming this. Held by what he was witnessing, his expression was that of a man who wouldn’t remain on the sidelines for long.
Chained as she was, Nikki wasn’t going anywhere.
Connor used her captivity to his benefit. He slowed his thrusts and the strokes on her clit, leaving her hanging just short of orgasm, giving her body no choice except to shiver with disappointment, then settle down. The moment Nikki reached that state, weak and breathless, he started up again, tempting and teasing her.
She cried out her misery, the sounds stifled by the phallus. She hated him for what he was doing and loved him too. He knew she needed this discipline, for him to deny her as she’d done to him and Mitch all these years.
Connor certainly made her pay for that crime and the others she’d committed. She grew limp while still being strung out, too tense to breathe, yet too tired to oppose his actions. She was trapped completely, but oddly free, the most curious state she’d ever experienced.
He made it last, bringing them to orgasm grudgingly with feathery strokes on her nub and strong thrusts into her anus. For minutes, he masturbated her while pumping, reducing Nikki to whimpering moans.
Holding back nothing, Connor bellowed his release, but didn’t stop thrusting or rubbing her clit. He seemed to want to cling to the act, the powerful sensations it generated, until there was nothing left to experience. Nikki shivered uncontrollably, her jaw aching from biting into the leather, her body unable to take much more. Thankfully, Connor’s pumping finally slowed. His hand fell away from her clit, his knees bumping into the backs of hers.
