She squirmed. “It won’t fit.”
“I’ll make it fit, not that it will go easy for you.” As if to drive the point home, he pressed a fingertip against her. No give. No room at all for him there.
“I’m scared of that,” she said, too wrought up to filter her responses.
“No that’s and there’s,” he scolded. “Be specific. ‘I’m scared to have your cock in my ass.’”
“I’m scared to have your cock in my ass.”
“But?”
“Please fuck me in the ass, Sir, if that’s what you want.”
He shuddered beside her in the darkness. “Jesus Christ. I will, baby. What a good girl you are.”
He sat back in his seat, so glorious, so perverted, so at ease. So necessary in her life.
Chapter Twelve: Relax
Miri shifted her hips forward and back again, seeking comfort in the solidity of the spanking bench. This one was designed more like a table, with a flat padded top and attachment points at various locales, depending on which position he wanted her in. Right now she was bent over, ass out, her wrists cinched together and attached to the front of the bench. Ankle cuffs near the floor prevented her from closing her legs or flinching away. She was pretty much at his mercy.
The padded top was comfortable against her pelvis, and it made a nice place to lay her head, but the lube and anal toy Mason placed before her eyes made her significantly less comfortable. The glass plug wasn’t huge, but big enough to scare her. She searched her lover’s face for some sign of sympathy or doubt, but found only the usual reassuring confidence. “You are going to love this,” he said. “I promise.”
She didn’t reply, just fidgeted in her bonds and went up and down on her toes. He stood beside her, his cock rearing up before her eyes. His abs and muscles bunched as he leaned to kiss her. It was a tender, gentle kiss, at odds with the pain she knew he was about to inflict on her. The dichotomy of his mild side and his evil side made her shiver in conflicted lust. “I love you like this,” he said when he pulled away.
“Horny?”
“Obedient. Because Sir wants to fuck your ass, yes? And you’re going to let him.”
She shivered again. She couldn’t help it. “Yes, Sir.”
“And Sir is going to take care of you by preparing you first. What do you have to say to that?”
“Thank you, Sir.”
She was completely used to the Yes, Sirs and No, Sirs and Thank you, Sirs by now. She was used to a lot of the stuff he did to her, but not anal sex. She wanted to experience it, but she was also scared to death. Oh, God, he was lubing up the butt plug. Her whole body went still as he stepped behind her. He patted her bottom, then parted her cheeks and slid the cold glass toy to nestle against the ring of her sphincter.
“Don’t tense,” he said. “Think happy thoughts.”
Happy thoughts? She pulled at the cuffs holding her as the toy slid in. He was slow and careful, but she found it uncomfortable all the same. When it was fully seated, she squirmed at the intrusive feeling.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No, it doesn’t hurt, Sir. It just feels really full.”
“I might have to get a bigger one. It should hurt a little.” He met her eyes, only barely smiling. “Sorry. It’s going to hurt when I finally go there, no matter what. I just want you to be prepared.”
He’d warned her when they’d started getting deeper into the kink that he was a sadist, that he’d enjoy hurting her sometimes. “Only,” he clarified, “if you enjoy being hurt.” But then he reminded her of the first time he’d made her come, standing in his bathroom. “When I hurt your nipples,” he said, “you gushed against my hand.”
She was gushing now. She always gushed when he restrained her or used toys on her or did anything evil and hurty to her. All she had to do was walk down the stairs into the dungeon, and she was wet as fucking hell.
Miri’s heart accelerated to double speed as he crossed to his wall of implements, scanning the options and humming to himself. That pegboard wall had come to figure very heavily in her dreams. It was full of all kinds of evil things. The thin, whippy crop he selected was one of them. She’d told him the first time he’d used it on her that it was definitely, absolutely too ouchy. “Good,” he’d replied. “Then I’ll use it a lot.”
He returned to her, wearing his sternest expression. She shook her head as he flicked the crop in the air. “No, please.”
“Use your safeword or be quiet.”
She buried her head in the crook of one arm with a whine. No way would she safeword. No. She’d been looking forward to this forever, looking forward to pushing her limits far, far over her comfort line and taking his cock in her ass. She wasn’t going to throw in the towel over a little cropping. Well, she hoped she wasn’t.
He flattened a palm on the small of her back and swung the crop with his other hand. The flicky part at the end connected with the tender flesh at the juncture of her ass and thighs. Her head shot up at the shock of it. As soon as she got her breath back, she shrieked and started struggling. Holy hell, no warm up, no prep, just sharp, burning pain.
“Ow, no! Mason, Sir—”
Another sharp crack stunned her into silence. Ow, ow, owwww. She fought him, she couldn’t help it, but he had all the leverage. He stopped and waited, his fingers pressed firmly to her back, letting her come to terms with her helplessness.
“Are you going to be good?” he asked after a moment. She could feel the rumble of his question in her nipples, in the uncomfortable fullness of her ass. And oh, in that hot wet place between her legs that wanted so badly to be filled by him. She could yell out the safeword he’d given her and stop this at once, stand up and relax and not bear any more pain from him, but then she wouldn’t get what she wanted so bad. Anyway, she knew she’d just come crawling back to him, begging for another chance. She was a Mason junkie now.
“Answer me,” he prompted.
“Yes, Sir,” she sputtered, not even remembering the question at this point. “But it hurts—ow!”
He delivered the next two blows in quick succession. She reeled from the white-hot sting. “I’m sure it hurts, baby, but I do it because you need it. Don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered as he landed another blow.
“I want you in the right headspace for what comes next. I want you aching and begging to be fucked in the ass, like the naughty fuckslut you are.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now, I’m adding five extra because you’re being such a whiner today.”
She moaned and clamped her lips shut, trying hard not to make any more noise, but each lick of the crop was so painful that protesting cries choked her throat. If not for his palm holding her down, she would be tossing her hips wildly from side to side, trying to evade the awful implement.
She started bawling at the next whack, and she didn’t even think he was to ten. He wasn’t counting out loud, and she was too mindless at that point to keep track. He stopped and patted the tender flesh of her ass cheeks. She’d been sporting bruises since she met him and her ass was perpetually sore. His fingers felt nice though, gentle and soothing. That is, until he slid them between her cheeks to push on the flange of the butt plug. “Yes, something bigger,” he murmured to himself.
The cropping recommenced. Miri might have hoped at some point her ass would go numb, but instead it seemed like each subsequent blow hurt worse, stung harder and lingered longer. She was crying like crazy now, but it was from frustration, not pain. She couldn’t bear it, not another second.
“That’s fifteen,” Mason said, whacking her square across the backs of her thighs so she saw stars. For a second, she hated him. But no, she loved him. Not loved him in a happily-ever-after sense, but in a sense that no one, in twenty-four years of her life, had ever made her feel as turned on and alive as he did.
She let out a long breath that sounded like a sob. Mason rubbed her ass again and played with the toy, working it in
and out. She was too depleted to feel embarrassment. Thank God the cropping was over. She couldn’t wipe the tears from her face because her hands were cuffed, so she tried to wipe them on the leather top of the spanking bench instead.
“Stop,” he said. “I like to see your tears. I’ll wipe them away when I’m ready.”
For some reason that made her cry worse.
“What’s the matter?” He didn’t say it impatiently. He really wanted to know why she was crying so hard, but she could never explain. She didn’t understand it herself, why she liked when he hurt her, but also hated it so much. He confused her, terrorized her—and thrilled her. “Hush now,” he said. “Everything will be okay.”
He put the crop away, then returned and rubbed her back some more, standing behind her from time to time to probe between her legs. He touched her body all over just as he pleased, lazily, aimlessly, tracing shoulders, ribs, hips. It relaxed her to the point where her mind could slow down. The endless volley of thoughts and fears quieted. At the same time, his slow caresses brought physical sensation to the fore. The pleasure of his touches warred with the lingering throbbing of her ass and thighs and the increasingly horny sensation of the plug.
Eventually, his fingertips traced down through the slickness of her mound to part her and expose her aching clit. He slid a fingertip across it once, twice. Enough to drive her crazy but not enough for her to come.
“Oh, Sir,” she moaned.
“What is it?”
“I want to come.”
“Please, may I come, Sir,” he corrected her.
“Please, may I come, Sir?”
“Not yet. Not until my cock’s in your ass.”
He got up and sauntered back to his wall of horrors, returning with a larger plug. Miri didn’t bother to object. This time, as he eased it into her, she definitely felt an undercurrent of pain along with the fullness. “It’s okay,” Mason said. “Just relax.”
Just relax. His two favorite words. Miri was trying to relax but she was always the one having everything done to her, while Mason did all the “doing” and maintained all the power. And you love that, Miri. That’s why you’re so wet you could drown.
“Can I come now, Sir?” she asked meekly.
“No.”
Of course not. He laughed at her pout.
“No,” he repeated. “Not yet. I want you to get used to that plug for a while before I let you come with my cock. You know I like to make you put up with some pain before you get to feel good. Remind me why that is, baby.”
“Because you’re a sadist, and you like hurting me.”
“That’s right. Now stop whining before I give you another ten with the crop.”
Miri kind of wanted ten more, now that he had her so wound up. The first time he used the crop on her, she’d panicked and fought him, aghast at the pain of it. But at the end, when he held her in his arms and soothed her, she’d wanted it again. The entire next day, she’d remembered it and soaked her panties. There was something about the excitement of pain—the excitement of taking it, the excitement of surviving it. And even better, the excitement of not being able to get away.
He looked down at her now, a satisfied smile on his face. She believed he knew exactly how she felt. He stroked a hand down her cheek. “Be patient.”
“Yes, Sir.” Fucking God, she was so horny. “I wish you would fuck me now,” she whispered. “I want to come so bad.”
“You can come when I say.”
She was going to spontaneously orgasm if he kept talking like that. But Mason was in motion again, sidling up to the table and easing her head back with a firm grip on her hair. “Before you get what you want, I’ll let you fluff me a little. Open up, girl.”
Her “Yes, Sir” was muffled by the thrust of his cock. She loosened her lips and throat, let herself become a receptacle for his pleasure. Giving him oral turned out to be a big part of the ongoing curriculum. She was getting better, but it was still the hardest lesson for her. She had assumed, at first, that when it came to blowjobs she would be the one doing everything, the one in control of pleasing him, but he disabused her of that notion right away. In this, he was always the one in control. When her hands were free, she was taught to keep them in her lap, to let him set the pace and demand what he wanted for the duration of the act. When she was restrained, like now, she just opened her mouth and accepted him. After a few minutes, he drew away from her with a sigh.
“Lick me now. Tease me.”
Miri stuck out her tongue and took swipes at Mason’s prodigious member. He made pleased sounds like he enjoyed it, but to Miri it felt like trying to paint a house with a Q-tip. He was just so large. It wasn’t that she didn’t like his taste or his smell, or the way he controlled her, or the way he made her swallow afterward. It was just that she really liked to be able to breathe.
Too soon, he was thrusting forward again between her lips. The hand twisting in her hair squeezed tighter. She chose to think of it as encouragement rather than force. “Open wider,” he said. “Breathe through your nose.”
As if she had any other way to breathe when his huge cock was jammed between her lips. She used her tongue to stroke him and tried to create suction that only involved lips, not teeth. The force, the bondage, the pain all converged into complete surrender. She was his—his to use, his to fuck at will. Her pussy tightened and her ass clenched on the plug as the note of pain sent her arousal sky high. Mason reached under her to grasp her nipples, pinching them hard. She moaned against his cock and tried to take him deeper. She’d never take all of him but he seemed to accept that. He stroked the base of his cock as she sucked the top.
“Do my balls now.”
Obediently, Miri left off his shaft and began licking around and under his scrotum, resting her cheek against the leather platform. She actually enjoyed this, toying with his balls. At least she could breathe. He jacked himself as she sucked and nipped delicately, just as he’d taught her to do. “Good girl.” His voice was heavy with pleasure. “You love this, don’t you? Serving me? Making me feel good?”
“Oh, yes Sir,” she sighed.
She didn’t confess that the more she learned how to please him, the more powerful she felt. This kind of sex, BDSM sex, was so bizarre, because the power shifts were so essential to the experience, and yet they were so fluid and unpredictable. He gave her power, then took it away. She gave away power, but always retained some level of power when it came down to it. The more she participated in it, the more fascinated she became.
His finger hooked in the ring of her collar, a signal to stop so he could pull away. He stared down at her with blue eyes full of lust.
“I love when you look that way,” Mason said, brushing knuckles across her cheek. “I live for it. Are you horny, Miri? Are you frustrated and horny as hell?”
She leaned into his touch. “Please, Sir, will you fuck my ass now?”
It spoke a lot to Mason’s power that she would utter those words. That she would ask for something she feared so much, something that had always kind of skeeved her out.
He left her, moved behind her to cup her ass. She arched back into his hands, craving any contact. She made a soft pleading sound which Mason answered with a low chuckle. “You kill me, you really do. Let’s see if I can return the favor.”
He put a hand on her back to steady her and removed the plug. As the widest part slid out she felt more pain. Not unbearable pain, but a definite twinge that scared her. Should she tell him how scared she was? He told her to stay and she stayed and waited, fighting with herself. Safeword or not? Chicken out, or see this through? She really did want to see what anal sex was like...but now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure she should have chosen horse-dicked Mason Cooke as her first experience.
He was back a few minutes later, uncuffing her ankles. He turned her onto her back on the table so her cuffed wrists were crossed over her head.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He wa
tched her from heavy-lidded eyes. “Are you really asking me that question?”
It became apparent he was going to fuck her ass in this position. She’d assumed he’d take her from behind but she should have known by now that with Mason you couldn’t assume anything. He parted her cheeks, smearing some lube against her asshole. She braced as he closed his hands on her hips, but he didn’t jab into her like she expected. He waited, sliding his hands over her body, forcing her legs open until her thighs strained to hold the position. She could feel cool air against the aching heat of her clitoris, and then, wonderfully, the teasing pressure of a finger, tapping, sliding across the warmth and leaving a trail of yumminess that made her shiver.
“Again, please, more.” She babbled out words but her brain shut down, all the blood having pooled in a different location. She bucked her hips to increase the contact with his fingers. “Oh, please.”
He complied with another deep chuckle. She didn’t care if he found her amusing, as long as his intimate manipulations didn’t stop. “Move your hips just like that while I’m fucking you,” he said a moment later. “If you want to come, this is how. Make yourself come on my hand while I fuck you in the ass.”
Miri blushed, but she knew from past experience this blunt instruction was just part of his teaching, that he really wanted her to have a good time.
“All right, baby,” he said, massaging the insides of her thighs. “This will hurt at the start, like the first time I fucked your pussy. The only difference is, when I fuck your ass it will hurt every time. Just at the beginning though. If you relax, it will get better.”
Relax? How was that possible? She watched as he slathered a good bit of lube over his rigid length.
“I’m using more than I usually would,” he said. “For now, you’ll need it. Maybe in a while you won’t need as much.”
In a while? How many times would they do this? He pressed closer between her thighs, lifting her legs in his arms and bracing them against his chest. He tilted her hips up and all the thoughts in her mind went blank, except for one blatant thought. Oh God, oh fuck, please don’t hurt too much. His lips were pressed into a line, his face taut with concentration. He pushed the head of his cock against her hole, and then he was parting her. Damn. Ow... It hurt terribly, but the head, at least, was fitting into her. Her breath came faster as she tried to accommodate him. He made a low sound and squeezed her waist.
Comfort 4: Command Performance Page 15
