Ultra Violet
Chastity Vicks
Emily is nervous around electricity, but Greg’s extravagant Valentine’s Day gift of a violet wand piques her curiosity. With her beloved Master guiding the way, Emily feels secure enough to explore her limits—and enjoys what she discovers.
Greg’s sensual dominance opens her up to newfound pleasures and together, Master and submissive delve into an electrifying new kink. As Emily begins to overcome her anxiety, her lover’s expertise with the violet wand brings a whole new meaning to “making sparks fly”.
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Ultra Violet
Chastity Vicks
Chapter One
It was a very large box. She noticed that at once, her back straightening as Greg placed the parcel on the coffee table. She was kneeling in front of it, her hands folded demurely between her thighs and her head held up, which meant that the box—in all its pretty, brightly colored wrapping paper, pink and festooned with hearts as befitted the holiday—was directly in her eye line.
It seemed like a very big present, and concern tugged at Emily as she stared at it. Sometimes she didn’t feel worthy of the large, expensive gifts Greg liked to give her. All right, today was Valentine’s Day and people were supposed to give each other gifts, but the thinking part of her brain said the whole holiday was one big corporate shill, mostly to do with conning money out of people and guilting them into buying useless things. And yet Greg never did anything because he felt pushed or manipulated. That just wasn’t the way he dealt with the world.
To her, Greg was Master, the monolith of certainty and security in her life, and she trusted him—and trusted in him—completely. So…if Master wanted her to have a present, she would have it, no matter how small it made her feel.
Emily wet her lips, looking up at his broad frame. He stood on the other side of the coffee table, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her, a smile curling the edge of his lips. He wasn’t the tallest of men, or necessarily the most handsome—not magazine handsome anyway, with his ruffled pale-brown hair, his wide mouth and his narrow, blue-gray eyes—but he wore confidence like a second skin. All he had to do was look at her with that glint of knowing mischief in his face and she was halfway to lost already. The dark-charcoal suit and deep-red tie he wore—the outfit in which he’d taken her to dinner before they came back here to his place, where he fitted into his surroundings like a lion astride the plains—had a very similar effect on her…not that Emily minded in the least.
“Open it, little one,” he prompted, raising his eyebrows. “It’s for you.”
His voice hit all manner of places inside her. It always did, whether his words were sweet and smooth or harder, sterner commands. If he wanted to, he could bind her stock-still just by speaking. Emily thrilled to that understated authority of his, though she had to admit that she also adored the more practical methods he liked to employ.
Still, she obeyed. She always did, and it seemed as if her fingers moved unbidden, sliding beneath the edges of the seams to carefully peel away the pieces of sticky tape from the bright-pink glossy paper with the garish hearts emblazoned on it. As the wrapping began to loosen, she peered shyly up at Greg, warmed by the smile on his face.
“Thank you, Master.”
His smile became a grin and he shook his head very slightly. “You might want to see what it is before you thank me, sweetheart. Go on. I want to see your face.”
Emily blinked, a little unsure. She hadn’t really speculated what might be inside the box. Usually he bought her toys or things to wear…things that they could both enjoy, because one of the first lessons Greg had taught her was that her pleasure mattered. In surrendering it to him—giving him control of her body, offering up the gift of her submission—she yielded something so precious, and yet doing so wasn’t a denial or a diminishment of her own power.
That was a thing of value, he said, and it made both of them stronger.
He was the first Master she’d ever had who said things like that. When they first started seeing each other—introduced by a mutual acquaintance at a local munch just over a year ago—she’d thought that perhaps it was because he was a few years older than her. He had that kind of calm maturity about him, though he was barely in his late thirties.
Of course, as their relationship had moved from friendly to romantic, tentatively skirting the shores of possibility and pricking at those first electric currents of compatibility, she’d realized that it was more than that. Greg’s dominance was sensual, subtle…not the kind of crude, acquisitive sadism her last partner had shown. Connor had only ever been interested in making her do what he wanted for the sake of control. His demands had been designed to exploit her submissiveness, to make her truly believe that she was worthless, and the legacy of that still lingered in her.
On her last birthday, when Greg had presented her with a silver play collar, Emily had cried. Not just at how beautiful it was and how much the gesture meant, but at his kindness and at how badly she wanted to feel worthy of it.
Now, as her fingers turned aside the layers of heart-peppered wrapping, her throat tightened again and her stomach knotted in anticipation. The box was much too big to be cuffs, so maybe a harness? He loved the way she looked in rope, framed for him, so perhaps that was it…a leather harness, or maybe lingerie that he could enjoy tearing off her. Sometimes they bought cheap pantyhose and bra sets for just that purpose, and very little could match the peaks of intensity Emily hit when, with her wrists and ankles tied tightly, Master ripped off her clothes and fucked her with the torn rags still clinging to her body.
She pulled the paper clear and looked down at the plain white box, a small frown denting her forehead. No store or brand logo, so maybe it wasn’t something wearable. It was far too huge to be a toy though, wasn’t it? Her gut flipped as she worried that it would be something too big, something she couldn’t cope with…but Greg wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t push her past her limits, wouldn’t make her do things she wasn’t equipped or ready to do.
She trusted him, so she wasn’t at all prepared for what she found when she lifted the lid of the box.
“Oh…”
Emily’s mouth froze around that little sound of confusion, a maelstrom of disappointment, guilt and trepidation whirling inside her. Inside the plain box sat something she’d never expected to see—a black poly-carbon case that housed a violet wand, neatly gift-packaged and accompanied by a series of complicated attachments, cables and a user manual.
It wasn’t what she wanted.
Damn it, he knew the thought of electro-play scared her…why would he do this? And why today? Emily looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and her lips bent around a soft sound halfway between protest and heartbreak.
Greg just smiled.
“I know,” he said soothingly. “But I think you should try it.”
Emily pouted. The lid of the box slipped from her fingers, dropping to the coffee table and crinkling the discarded nest of wrapping paper. She wanted to shout, to sulk and maybe cry, because of all the inconsiderate, mean, unkind things… He knew she didn’t want this.
“I have tried it,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor because, despite how bad she felt, it still felt worse to disappoint him with her ingratitude. “You know I’ve tried it. I hated it!”
The memory came back and she tensed against it, though she was ready for it. Connor had been into the idea of electricity. He’d taken her to a kink show once, marched her up to a booth where a guy was selling violet wand kits and told him to show her what it was like. She’d been nervous to start with—the idea was scary, and the wand itself had looked like a complex, intimidating piece of gear, with a sharp me
tal tip on the end that had frightened her—but Connor had grabbed her wrist and held out her arm and the guy had zapped her just on the inside of the elbow.
Emily remembered the flood of pain, plus the shock and humiliation that had washed through her as a little arrow-shaped mark bloomed on her skin. She’d thought it wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t meant to be that bad, was it? The fact Connor had just laughed—and the vendor had laughed, as though they were both sharing some private joke at her expense—had made everything so much worse. She remembered running out of the conference room in tears and going back to the car, where she sat for more than an hour before Connor decided it was time to go home.
Greg knew the story. She’d told him about it right at the beginning, when they both talked about what they liked, what they didn’t and what they would not want to do under any circumstances. Electricity, Emily had said, was a no-go. No way. It scared her, and she didn’t want to be scared. She didn’t want to be hurt—not really hurt, not the kind of pain that would last more than a second—and she didn’t ever want to feel as though it was a possibility.
She had thought Greg respected that but, as she frowned petulantly at the violet wand, neatly nestled in its discreet packaging, she caught herself wondering if he respected her at all. This? This was her Valentine’s Day gift?
Even the kinkiest couples could just have flowers. She hadn’t wanted this. It wasn’t fair. And yet…and yet it was a very expensive toy. Emily didn’t know much about the wands, except for the fact that they hurt, but she knew the selection of electrodes in the box—each one made of smooth, semi-opaque glass and each a different shape—and the assorted cables that sat next to the main unit were not standard inclusions with most kits. Greg had gone all out on this…and it was a hell of a purchase just for something to try.
Pressure welled at the bridge of Emily’s nose and her bottom lip puckered.
She didn’t want to be ungrateful and she certainly didn’t want to ruin the evening. She wanted to please him, to be his good girl, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt by this, and the toy seemed to mock her from its clean, clinical box.
“I can’t,” she murmured, a thread of tears already knitting into the words. “I…”
Her voice thickened and she closed her mouth, not fully trusting herself to speak. Instead, she looked up sorrowfully at Master and shook her head.
“I know you said you tried it,” Greg said calmly. “But what you tried wasn’t this. What you had done to you was wrong. This can be good. Gentle. It can feel wonderful, I promise.”
Emily bent her head, studying her knees through rapidly blurring eyes. She still wore the simple black cocktail dress she’d put on to go out to dinner, teamed with sheer pantyhose and black pumps, and it had been such a nice evening. Everything had been so nice…until now.
“Why?” she managed. “Why would you get this? I mean, it must have been—”
“It’s a gift,” Greg said, his tone hardening a little in that particular way that made her lift her head, understanding that he needed her full attention. “You trust me, don’t you, little one?”
Emily glowered at him despite herself. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be his “little one” right now. She wasn’t even sure she still wanted to be kneeling on the floor. It had started to feel slightly less safe but, as she looked into Greg’s face, she knew he was right. She did trust him. She didn’t trust the violet wand that sat on the coffee table between them, but she did trust Master. She sniffed heavily.
“Yes. But—”
“Good. Then you know I won’t hurt you. And you know that I’m telling you the truth. Your fear is based on one bad experience. On that, and on the fact you knew nothing else about electro-play. Right?”
Those slate-hard eyes gazed steadily into hers and Emily squirmed, discomfited by this sudden solemn austerity of his. She nodded reluctantly and a small smile broke across Greg’s lips.
“All right. So today is a day for gifts. I want to give you the gift of conquering that fear. I want to show you that it’s all right to test your limits, to learn about them…maybe find out that you enjoy something you never thought you would.”
Emily wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t going to enjoy the wand, whatever he said. All right, so perhaps calling electricity a hard limit based on one bad experience at a vendor’s booth was a little strong, but…hell, had he really had to broach the subject like this?
She frowned, her face heavy with suspicion as she looked at him.
“Master, I’m willing to try, but I don’t think I’m ready to—”
“We don’t have to use it tonight,” Greg said, holding up a hand to quiet her. “Okay? For now, you’re just going to think about it. At the weekend, we’re going to try it out. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it and that’s fine…but at least you’ll know more about it. Does that sound fair?”
Emily nodded grudgingly, hating the fact he could make this sound so disgustingly reasonable and hating the fact that, somehow, his impossible calmness had started the tiniest tremors of curiosity in her. She didn’t believe for a second that her Master would want her to try anything he thought was bad, so could it really be as good as he implied?
“Does it sound fair?” he asked again, his voice firmer now.
She nodded a second time, raising her gaze to his. “Yes, Master.”
Greg smiled. “Good girl.” He pushed the lid back over the box as he moved around the coffee table, coming to stand in front of her and placing his hand on her head, smoothing her blonde hair gently. “I don’t want you to be afraid of anything, little one. That’s all.”
Emily leaned into the warmth of his palm, breathing in deeply to catch the scent of his skin. Her pulse quickened just a little at his touch and she bit her lip, eager to ask for what she wanted but still sulky enough that she refused to beg.
He let his fingers trail across her cheek, taking her chin between his forefinger and thumb, and his smile grew wicked, the light of anticipation dancing in his eyes.
“Now…I believe someone still owes me a Valentine’s gift.”
Emily’s cheeks warmed, his touch inspiring tiny prickles of eager expectation against her skin. It was funny really, she thought, that he was so determined to have her experience the violet wand. He already knew how to make sparks fly between them.
She held eye contact, looking steadily up into that steely, confident face. Her discomfort hadn’t quite melted away. She was still, if not angry, then maybe a little hurt, a little resentful…an uncomfortable bundle of confusion and uncertainty. She wanted to push the feelings away, to be Greg’s good girl again, but it was harder than s would have anticipated.
She swallowed heavily, waiting for him to tell her what to do, because there was no way she was going to ask him for a single damn thing at this moment. Besides, she needed it. She needed him to tell her, to give her the comfort of her role and her job—needed him to be her Master.
Greg smiled at her—just a little curl to the corner of his lips, a softness almost at odds with the flint in his expression—and Emily felt herself start to melt.
“Get your collar from your bag, little one. Get it and bring it to me in the bedroom. Yes?”
That familiar pitch of comfortable excitement swelled inside her—the feeling that came with knowing what was coming next, even if she didn’t know precisely what it would involve. No wand tonight, but Master would still have his pleasure…she could give him that and she could make him proud. After all, she was his.
Emily nodded, her head tilting slightly as Greg moved his hand away as though she could follow his touch.
“Yes, Master.”
His smile broadened. “Good girl.”
Chapter Two
Emily’s hands shook a little as she took the velvet bag from her purse and slipped the smooth metal ring from inside it. Her collar was discreet and subtle enough that it looked like a solid silver choker—the kind she could have worn out to the restaurant. She d
idn’t wear it outside though. It was a symbol, a private thing meant for the two of them and no one else.
She knew as soon as the collar was fastened around her neck, the comforting snick of the clasp would start her slipping down into subspace, reminding her that she had nothing to fear. Tonight more than ever she wanted that security, so she closed her fingers tightly on the cool metal and hurried into Greg’s bedroom.
He was waiting for her, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze fixed lazily on her as she entered the room. Emily smiled, feeling cosseted and protected by that look, and maybe just a little silly for reacting the way she had to the wand…not that she would ever have admitted it.
Still, she knew Master would never hurt her, never push her past any limit she had not agreed to test.
She held out the collar, watching Greg take it from her hands with his lean, strong fingers. His scent filled the space between them, his warmth and proximity blotting out her uncertainty. They didn’t speak. There was nothing he needed to say to make her understand.
Emily turned, lifting her hands to swipe her hair out of the way as Greg unsnapped the collar and brought the sleek, silvery ring to her neck. She held her breath, closed her eyes…let all the tension seep from her body as Master’s arms encircled her. He leaned in close to fasten the collar and the coolness of the metal roused a shiver from her skin.
Emily smiled as the collar snicked closed, the metal already beginning to warm against her neck, his lips grazing the sensitive spot behind her ear.
“Take your dress off, little one,” he murmured. “Slowly. Let me see.”
Her smile widened, lips curving lazily as her body segued into smooth, easy obedience. She stepped away from him, presenting herself for him, holding eye contact as she began the leisurely dance of shedding her clothes.
Greg watched her unzip her dress, her arms bowed like a dancer’s as she stretched to reach the zipper, then she shimmied out of the black fabric. His gaze seemed warm on her skin and Emily’s nipples peaked beneath the lace of her bra, her pussy already flushed with heat and hunger.
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