by Sansa Rayne
Lapping circles around my clit, I shuddered as his tongue danced across my most sensitive skin. My position felt so precarious; I felt as though my slick thighs would slide off Mason’s shoulders at any moment, but he held onto my legs, curling his arms around them. In my mind, I knew he wouldn’t let me slip, but my body didn’t believe it yet. It was too inundated with paroxysms of euphoria for anything else to get through.
When his tongue invaded my core, I bucked against him, but he didn’t let go. I wept as an intense orgasm swept through me, blinding in its intensity. I screamed and wailed, and Mason kept licking and curling and twisting,
After my first orgasm ended, I raised my head to look at him. Focused on his work, he didn’t notice I was watching. With his mouth buried between my legs, I couldn’t see his lips, but I could tell he was enjoying every second of his effort. The rise in his cheekbones, the upward turn of his brow; they belied the joy of giving. For a moment I enjoyed the duality: he could take equal satisfaction in doling out pain or pleasure. And why not? I enjoyed them both too. However, there was something else to his expression: a sense of needing to atone for his misdeeds in any way he can. By the third orgasm, I decided there were worse ways one could repent.
He set me back down on my feet after the last orgasm, then unlocked my shackles and caught me in midair. He lifted me again, but this time set me down on the bed so I could enjoy the afterglow of my many climaxes. Lying on the bed, I gasped like a fish out of water, thirsty for oxygen.
—
I may have passed out. I couldn’t tell. Mason lay down next to me; I had my eyes closed, but I felt the shift in the mattress and smelled his musk. I sighed happily as my core pulsed in time with my heartbeat. My backside ached, but Mason turned me over to apply a soothing cream.
When I opened my eyes, my breathing was back to normal and my core was eager for more. Mason was up, reading on his phone. When he saw me, he set it down and reached over the side of the bed. He came back up with two bottles of water and passed one over.
“Drink,” he said. He opened his and sipped. Still ice cold and refreshing, I drank nearly half my bottle in a single go. “Thanks,” I said when I’d had enough.
“You’re welcome.” He set his bottle down and turned to me.
“Abigail?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to do something to you now that you might find difficult.”
I shivered, apprehensive. “What’s that?”
“Tying your hands behind your back with rope, and keeping them tied like that for a while.”
I understood what he meant. Brady had tied me that way, and doing so would no doubt bring back the worst memories. “I’m not going to say no, Mason, but I am curious about why.”
He nodded. “First of all, if you want to say no, you can. I’d understand. As for why… because I want you to be able to enjoy getting tied up that way. I want to help you work through any residual fear or nervousness you may have. Rope bondage is exciting and beautiful, and I’d hate for you to miss out on its many, many pleasures.”
I rolled over and climbed on top of him. I hugged his body, kissing his solid chest. “You have nothing to worry about,” I told him. “There won’t be any residual fear, not if I’m with you. If I trust you, that’s all that matters.”
Mason kissed the top of my head. “Thank you, Abbi.” He slid out of bed and selected a coil of rope from his collection. I got up and knelt on the bed, placing my arms behind my back without being asked. It felt like the right thing to do. I yearned to submit, to give myself willingly to his control.
Bands of rope tightened around my wrists; my pulse quickened as the memories of that night forced their way into the forefront of my mind. Mason had been right; being tied that way was harder than I imagined. Yet, I stood by what I said: as long as I trusted him, I knew I was safe. My body tensed, as if a near-death experience might follow, but soon it would learn to relax; I just needed time to build that trust into my muscles and nerves. As Mason no doubt knew, a string of orgasms would go a long way.
With my wrists secure, Mason moved on to bind my elbows and upper arms, locking them into a stringent tie. Utterly inescapable, I struggled against the tight cords helplessly, loving the way they wound around my body, harnessing my breasts. Mason watched me try to escape, and his cock rose until it stood tall.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, squeezing my legs together to feed the intense arousal growing inside.
“I’m not done.”
He picked me up by my arms so that my legs kicked out, then set me down on my bruised backside. I winced, but the pain was merely a taste of what I’d happily endured earlier.
To complete my bondage, Mason tied my ankles together, ensuring I wasn’t going to walk away anytime soon. When he was done, he stood me back up, then tied another length of rope to the bonds around my arms. He took the other end and looped it through the hanging chains we’d used earlier. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to wander far from my position, but I wouldn’t topple over if I lost my balance.
“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, admiring my bound form. “Breathtaking.”
Blushing, I looked down at my naked breasts; my hardened nipples hurt for his touch. I wanted to open my legs and invite his cock into my drenched chasm, but with my ankles bound, the only way was to bend my knees apart, and I couldn’t do that from my stance without lifting my feet off the ground and putting all my weight on my upper arms.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Abigail.”
“I don’t know how I can… how you’ll be able to… like this… get to my…”
Chuckling, he touched my lips with his finger, quieting me. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”
“No, sir.” All I really had to worry about was making appointments with Dr. Davis, and I didn’t have another one of those for a few days.
“Then we’ve got time. I thought before I really enjoyed you, I’d let you have all the fun.” He felt the ropes and tugged on them, making sure they were tight, “Most of the fun, anyway.” Mason picked out one of his toys, the vibrating massager he’d used on me before. “Remember this?”
“Fondly,” I replied, grinning.
“Yeah, I thought so.” He retrieved another bundle of rope and opened it up so he could work it into a harness around my thighs. He wove the rope, eyes gleaming, his face maddeningly close to my warmth. How he resisted plunging his rod inside me, I couldn’t fathom. Instead, he made a holster for the wand between my legs, and when it was done he placed the toy into it. Perfectly designed, the harness held the vibrating part of the wand firmly against my clit.
My pulse escalated, knowing what would happen when he turned it on.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, fondling my breasts.
I moaned as my legs quaked. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, then I’ll be back in a bit. I have to make a few calls.”
“What?” I screamed as he turned to walk away. “You’re not going to turn on the vibrator?”
He grinned mischievously. “Later. Okay? Okay.” Before I could speak he was gone, vanished through the door to the dungeon, and I heard his ascending footsteps.
He’s joking. He’ll be back, I thought. He wouldn’t let me suffer like this, would he?
I struggled against my bonds, trying to find some way to reach the button on the vibrator so I could turn it on, but it was no use. I couldn’t twist the toy around either; I couldn’t get any kind of grip, or enough motion, to make a difference.
Bucking against the ropes, I worked up a sweat and a fury. Yet, as mean as Mason had been, I couldn’t deny how much I liked it. Binding me, only to delay my release, thrust me into a state of heightened arousal. If I could trigger the switch on the vibrator, I knew I could come in a matter of seconds.
The worst part, of course, was how slowly time passed spent struggling and waiting. All I could do was fixate on my predicament, which I knew made it more difficult, but I couldn’t stop. I fo
ught against my bonds, and every time I did I could feel the smooth toy pressed against me, but it wasn’t enough to cause any significant stimulation.
On the verge of seeing my anger overshadow my arousal, Mason returned.
“How you holding up?” he asked.
“You’re an asshole,” I responded, though I didn’t really mean it. The erotic charge coursing through me begged for release.
“Do you know how long I was gone?”
It was so hard to tell. “Half an hour?” I said, though it had felt like much longer.
“Ten minutes, actually.”
“Oh.”
He laughed, then gave my backside a slap with his bare hand. “Next time it’ll be a half hour. Okay?”
I pouted, but nodded.
“You were very well-behaved, Abbi. I wasn’t sure if you would scream and demand that I return, or obediently accept what I had done. I’m impressed.”
“I think I fell somewhere in between, sir,” I admitted. “I was pretty pissed.”
“That much I expected.” He kissed my forehead, rubbing his hand along my backside, then gave it a sound smack. “You need to work on your discipline.” He gripped my cheeks with his hand. “In my dungeon, you get a reward when you’ve earned it. Do you understand?”
He spanked me again, causing me to squeal and shake in place. “Yes, sir.”
“Now, having a bad attitude. Do you think that deserves a punishment or a reward?”
“Punishment, sir,” I answered quickly, my breath ragged. Every part of my body felt either on fire or electrified.
“Correct.” He kissed my cheek, then turned on the vibrator. “But I can’t ask you to play by the rules if you don’t know them all yet, can I?”
I tried to answer. I think I did, anyway. I knew it wouldn’t take much to deliver me into ecstasy; as soon as he flipped the switch, I screamed, overwhelmed by the sublime surge that tore through me.
“Oh no, that won’t do at all,” said Mason. He opened a cabinet on the wall of the dungeon and retrieved a white cloth and a roll of duct tape.
The pleasure was so intense, I barely perceived of the balled up cloth being carefully inserted into my mouth, followed by several strips of tape sealing my lips shut.
“There, that’s better, don’t you think?”
I moaned into the cloth, my desire stoked further by the gag. Being robbed of my ability to speak felt demeaning, yet I adored it in a way I couldn’t explain. I could see how it might scare some people, or be unpleasant in the wrong circumstances, but it completed my submission in a way I craved.
While I writhed and came again and again, Mason sat on the bed and watched. I looked at him with unspoken pleas in my eyes, and he just smiled back at me. I didn’t want to be let go, I didn’t want the powerful device between my legs to turn off. I didn’t want to stop coming. But I couldn’t believe that this could go on; my body rebelled against the idea that I could continue to climax without stopping. Yet, that’s exactly what happened.
Mason contented himself watching for the first three orgasms, but then he got up, grabbing another flogger along the way. This one was different from the last: smaller, with shorter, nylon lashes. He kissed my breasts, flicking my nipples with his tongue. Then he began the flogging, whipping his wrists in a figure-eight pattern that landed a series of strikes on my breasts.
I wailed in agony and euphoria as the two sensations merged in an exhilarating cocktail. Each fed the other, and together my bliss reached new heights. When I opened my eyes, Mason seemed fully immersed in his task, and enjoying every second of it.
After the first round of floggings on my chest, Mason reached for the vibrator and tapped one of the buttons. As if possessed, the toy jolted, kicking into high gear. Even with the gag, my scream filled the dungeon.
“Isn’t that nice?” Mason asked, reaching through my legs from behind, finding his way into my sopping orifice.
I nodded, though the sensation was so powerful, I couldn’t imagine being able to stand it for much longer. An immeasurably erotic fear gripped me, thinking Mason could leave me like this for as long as he wished, and I would be unable to save myself from the machine’s incessant activity. As scary as it sounded, a side of me wanted Mason to do it so I could see what it was like. If being left by myself with the vibrator turned off served to arouse me, how would I have reacted if the toy was on? The idea scared me, but I also wanted to know.
It would have to wait for another time, however, because Mason only let the vibrator stay on high for so long. After another series of orgasms nearly swept me out of my mind, he shut it off and untied the harness, releasing the toy. My legs dripped with my juices. He removed the tape from my mouth with one easy pull, then removed the cloth gag. He used the damp rag to sop up the fluids trailing down my legs, then held the cloth up.
“Open,” he said.
I squeezed my lips shut, repulsed by the suggestion.
“I said open.”
I shook my head, though I resisted solely for the sake of appearances. It brought me back to my sessions with Brady back on the farm: enjoying such a depraved activity was completely unacceptable, so every punishment had to be endured with vociferous protestation. Yet, I never meant it. This time was no different. If Mason demanded it, I would obey.
He grinned, then dropped the rag. “Maybe next time, okay?”
I nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome.” He loosed the ropes that bound me to the ceiling, then grabbed my falling body and carried me to the bed. He set me down on my back, then splayed my knees apart. He traced a finger between my tender folds, causing me to spasm. He laughed, then kissed me. “I think you need a short break.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rest. I’ll be back soon.”
I didn’t complain as he left me on the bed, still tied up, still helpless. I basked in the afterglow of more orgasms than I could count. Feeling my stomach rumbling, I laughed softly. Breakfast at the diner that morning seemed so long ago. We met so early, it was barely lunchtime now. I suspected Mason could keep this up all day long, and that that’s exactly what he intended.
—
I didn’t stir until Mason’s footsteps woke me. I panicked for a moment; waking up in bondage made for a strange experience. However, once I remembered where I was, I relaxed.
Mason came in carrying a clear plastic container holding something brown and red. I couldn’t lift myself up to get a better view, but he set the box down beside me so I could see that they were chocolate-covered strawberries. In response, my stomach rumbled loud enough for Mason to hear.
“Open,” he said. This time, I didn’t hesitate in complying. I took a big bite of the first strawberry he fed me, sighing as the succulent flesh released its sweet juices and the chocolate melted on my tongue.
“Another?”
I nodded and opened my mouth expectantly. Mason dangled the next strawberry above my lips, forcing me to lift up my body to get it. I sat up, bit into the strawberry hungrily, then let my head fall back onto the pillow.
“Naughty,” said Mason. “You were supposed to stay up.”
“Make me,” I said, grinning.
Mason flicked my nipples with his finger. I squealed and tried to roll over, but he grabbed my shoulder and turned me back around. He planted his lips on mine and sucked my tongue. He held me in his arms, taking me for as long as he wished. I loved my inability to break away as we kissed. I felt owned, but on my own terms. Like I had selected the man to dominate me, rather than have one choose me, like I was some kind of product. I didn’t mind being possessed by a man like Mason, because he had taken on the mantle of protector. How many of the men at Aleksandr’s house would risk their life to protect the women they bought? Not one. The difference was clear as day to me.
“Mmm,” Mason hummed as he finally let our kiss conclude. He took out another strawberry and said, “Still hungry?”
“In a second,” I said, still savoring his
taste.
He ate the strawberry instead, smiling. He seemed hungry too.
“Mason?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“When did you buy those? Did you have them here before we met this morning, in case our meeting went well?” It would have been an extremely cocky thing to do, unless he just happened to really like chocolate-covered strawberries.
“After you passed out I called in a delivery, premium rush.”
“You can get that delivered?”
“Sure, babe.”
A tear escaped my eye and dripped down my cheek. I thought of the flowers and chocolates delivered to my apartment merely days ago. They were still in the bin below my sink, the flowers wilting and drying out.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I threw out the stuff you sent me the other night. I was so angry at you. It felt like the thing to do at the time.”
Mason stroked my hair, smoothing it out. “You kept the card, and it saved your life. We can get more flowers and candy. I’d much rather have you.”
“Well, you do have me.”
“I’m about to.” He loosened the ropes binding me, quickly freeing me from their grip. When all were untied, he laid me back down on the bed and stretched out my limbs. I moaned happily as I spread myself apart, my core aching not only for pleasure, but for him.
Re-using the same ropes, he tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts, pulling them as far apart as possible, and rendering me helpless once again. The bonds were so tight, I could hardly move at all; beneath me I felt my wetness start to dampen the sheets.
Mason picked out a set of nipple clamps and showed them to me. I whined, but already I could feel the phantom sting. He leaned over me and sucked on each nipple for a while before slipping on the clamps, causing me to sigh and then scream. The bite of the toys hurt tremendously, but I embraced the agony and let it amplify my arousal.
Finally, Mason picked out from a collection of blindfolds a simple, black cover that could have been for sleeping. He lifted my head enough to slip on its elastic band, then fitted the blindfold over my eyes. I couldn’t see at all, but I reveled in the fact that everything he did to me from then on would come as a surprise.
