by Lila Dubois
“That was my mistake,” Solomon said quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked some of those questions. That conversation is over, and has nothing to do with us. With now.”
Vivienne nodded, not wanting to say anything more. She hated the feeling that she was sliding out of the scene. That any hope of emotional release was slipping away, because she was no longer in the right headspace. She would settle for physical release. She’d done that plenty of times before—settled. Plus the orgasms she got during BDSM scenes were almost always better than anything her lovers outside the lifestyle offered.
“Head down, ass up,” Solomon barked.
That wasn’t what she’d expected, and Vivienne didn’t immediately respond. That earned her two solid spanks, one on each ass cheek. She gasped and dropped her forehead to the table.
Solomon grabbed her hair, lifting her head enough that she was looking at the wall, and able to see him in her peripheral vision.
“I made a mistake,” he said slowly. “But that does not give you permission to slip out of your subspace.”
My god, he’d been able to tell.
A shiver worked down her body. She took a shallow breath, her nipples dragging against the table. “Yes, Sir.”
He released her hair. “You keep your head down while I prepare your ass.”
Another shiver. “Yes, Sir.”
Solomon returned to her ass, and Vivienne folded her arms flat on the table, laying her right cheek on her stacked palms.
“You’re mine tonight, aren’t you, baby?” She heard the squirt of the lube, and then his fingers were back on her ass, brushing over her anus.
“Yes, Master Carter.”
The tip of one finger teased her hole. “Inhale,” he commanded. “Good, now exhale.”
When she exhaled, he thrust his finger into her bottom.
Vivienne yipped. Being penetrated this way always felt odd and invasive at first, no matter how many times she’d experienced it. His finger curled inside her, pushing on the ring of muscle from within, imitating the feeling of a plug.
“If you start to slip away. If you start to forget that tonight the only thing you have to do is obey me…” He slid his finger out of her ass, then thrust it back in, working it in circles. “…you take a deep breath. Feel the harness pressing in on you. That’s your reminder.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And if it’s not enough, you tell me.” His fingers withdrew, but was immediately back, pressing on her, wiggling into her anus, and this time it wasn’t one, but two that forced their way in.
Her ass burned as he stretched her open.
“And I’ll use every piece of equipment, every toy and flogger, every inch of rope, to make sure you know that you’re mine.”
Vivienne sobbed out a breath, working her hips back against him. The sweet pain of her ass stretching to accommodate his thick fingers was all she needed to know, viscerally know, who she belonged to.
She belonged to Solomon Carter. She always had.
“Well done, baby.” His voice was gentler now, and he started to work his fingers in and out of her ass.
She whimpered when the thickness of his joints entered her, then sighed in satisfaction when that sharp burn turned into radiating heat and spread down into her pussy. She whimpered again when he withdrew, leaving her empty and aching.
Something cold and heavy landed on her back. “It’s just the hook,” he told her. One hand, now free of the glove, stroked her back, between the straps of the harness.
“The ball at the end of the hook is good-sized. You’re going to feel it going in. I want you to relax and accept it. There’s no point in fighting it, is there, baby?”
“No, Master.”
“And why not? I want to hear you say it.”
“If you want to use me, you will. However you want.”
“That’s right.”
“And I want it too, Master. I want it to hurt.”
The hook was lifted off her back, and she felt the blunt tip rub along her labia, slowly making its way up to her ass.
“Looking at you like this makes me want to take a paddle to this ass. Are you sore from yesterday?”
“A bit, Master.”
“All the more reason to paddle you.” The sphere centered on her anus. “But after I have this nice hook up your ass, I’m going to turn you over, strap you down, and take my time with your sweet pussy.”
Vivienne moaned in anticipation.
Solomon took advantage of her momentary distraction as she fantasized about his mouth on her pussy to shove the ball into her ass in one brutal thrust.
Vivienne screamed, her ass forced open wide, only to close around the narrow neck of the hook. “Ouch, ouch, ouch,” she whimpered. That had hurt.
It felt so good.
There was a snap as he pulled off the glove, and then Solomon’s hands were on her hips, under the straps that ran down to the garters.
“How was that, baby?”
“It hurt, Master.”
He leaned down so they could see one another. “And?”
She smiled, meeting his gaze. “And I liked it.”
Solomon chuckled, then kneaded her ass. “I thought you might.” He adjusted the hook until the long side was flat along her back, the curve nestled along the crack of her ass and the spherical tip deep inside her. Each time he made an adjustment, she felt it move inside her.
When he fucked her, would he be able to feel it?
Solomon slid his arm under her waist. In a show of brute strength, he lifted her off the table. The world spun and she clung to him as he set her on her feet. With her bare chest against his own naked one—his tux shirt hadn’t survived last night—she knew he could feel her uneven breathing, how hard her nipples were.
One hand went to the back of her neck, his thumb tipping her face up for a kiss. The other hand grabbed the top of the anal hook, tugging it even more snuggly against her. Vivienne parted her lips, and Solomon sealed his mouth over hers, his tongue sweeping in to fuck her mouth the way he’d fucked her ass with first his fingers and then the hook.
When the kiss ended, they were both panting. He stepped back and stooped to grab a short length of rope. “Turn around,” he commanded.
She obeyed without hesitation.
“I’m tying the hook to the harness,” he told her. A second later there was yet another tug on the hook. This time he pulled it out a bit. “You won’t be able to bend forward all the way, so don’t try. This is rope, not a safety release, so you can hurt yourself.” From experience, she knew he was withdrawing the hook a few centimeters because it would make it easier for her to move without risk of hurting herself. “Do you understand?” Solomon asked.
“Yes, Master.”
The rope tickled her ass and legs as he uncoiled it. He slid one rope end through the eye hole at the top of the hook, then looped the rope through the D ring at the back of the waist strap of the harness. Once he tied it off, the ends dangled to her knees.
Solomon picked up the ends of the rope and gently whipped her ass a few times, then threaded the tails through the other D rings, adding to the restriction around her waist. “I don’t want those in the way,” he explained.
Vivienne licked her lips, and hoped she didn’t look too eager.
Solomon put his hands on his hips and casually contemplated the other scenes taking place. “Maybe we should take a stroll, or get some food.”
No! You promised you’d play with my pussy once you got the hook in!
“Whatever would please you, Master.”
Solomon laughed, a real, deep, belly laugh. “You’re saying the right things, but your expression is pure ‘fuck you.’”
Vivienne lowered her gaze to his chest. She wanted to sink her teeth into his pectorals, not only for the pleasure of feeling his flesh in her mouth—maybe hearing him growl in response—but because if she did he’d punish her. A punishment was far preferable to a stroll or snack.
He crowde
d into her personal space. “Don’t worry, baby. The only thing I want in my mouth is your sweet pussy.”
Vivienne melted into his chest, rubbing her lips over the skin she’d just moments ago been thinking about biting. He grabbed her hips and lifted her up, setting her gently on the foot of the table. “Lie back, careful of your ass.”
He pulled out the stirrups, placing her heels into the cups. She leaned back on her hands, then lay prone, wincing when the belt and rope dug into her waist.
“Arch your back, put your weight on your butt and shoulders,” he told her.
He helped ease her into position, so that she wasn’t putting too much weight where the belt was. Then Solomon took her hands, kissing each palm, and raised her arms over her head, backs of her palms on the table. He strapped her down almost tenderly, before using more Velcro straps to secure her feet to the stirrups.
She was totally helpless and exposed, immobile and so wildly aroused she was worried she wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy his mouth on her sex because she’d come the moment he touched her.
Solomon crouched once more, and it wasn’t until he held up his hand that she remembered the other things she’d seen laid out at the start of the scene.
Nipple clamps. Ball gag.
Luckily, he held the clamps.
Solomon bent to her breasts, taking one nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. He sucked hard, then sealed his lips around her as he lifted his head, her hard, damp nipple eventually escaping the suction of his mouth with a pop. Pleasure zinged from her nipple to her clit, and Vivienne couldn’t help but arch up, seeking more. The straps creaked as she strained.
Solomon held the clamps near her face so she could get a good look.
They were simple squeeze clamps, with a screw to tighten them. They would be fierce and painful, or a delicate pinch, depending on how he adjusted them.
Solomon grasped one clamp, letting the chain connecting them fall. The second clamp swung like a pendulum.
He gently placed the black-rubber tipped ends around her wet nipple, then released it. The clamp bit down, but gently, not a hard snap. She gasped, then released the air slowly. Her nipple was pleasantly compressed, the pressure that of a firm but not painful pinch.
He treated the second breast to the same suckling, then applied the clamp to that nipple.
More delicious burn, more sweet pleasure that shot right to her pussy.
He lifted the short chain that connected the clamps. “Open your mouth.”
Vivienne’s lips parted, her body responding and obeying before her mind had processed what was most likely about to happen. Solomon placed the chain between her teeth.
“Bite down on this.” He fiddled with the nipple clamps, his fingers just barely brushing against the sensitive tips as he rotated them so the end where the chain connected to each clamp was pointed toward her head. Then he held the clamp on the right nipple steady with one hand while he tightened the screw with the other. Pressure became a hard pinch, and then a burn. She whimpered.
“I’m going to take my time with your pussy, but I don’t want your nipples to feel neglected.” He tightened the other clamp, and pain shot from her nipple to pussy. “Every time I squeeze your ankle, you raise your chin, and keep it raised, until I let go. Do you understand?”
She nodded gingerly, barely moving her head.
“Let’s practice.” He retreated a few steps toward the foot of the table, then reached out and grabbed her ankle.
Vivienne tipped her head back, lifting her chin. The chain pulled taut, and her nipples were stretched by the clamps. It hurt, it was humiliating.
She could simply not obey. Make him work the chain too, rather than actively aid in her own torment.
But where was the fun in that?
He released her ankle and she relaxed her neck, panting through the sweet pain.
“Beautiful, baby.” He traced the soft underside of each breast, tugged on the strap around her ribs. “Now it’s my turn to have some fun.”
Vivienne’s whole body was throbbing with need, her nipples were burning, as if she could feel her heartbeat in every muscle, along every centimeter of skin.
Despite the clamps, it was her pussy that ached the most. She felt swollen with need, and every time her sex pulsed, her ass clenched too, reminding her of the hook he’d placed inside her.
Solomon brought over a chair and set it down between her upraised and splayed legs. He’d also grabbed a bottle of water somewhere along the way. He took a swig as he looked her over, from the chain in her mouth to the collar around her neck. The clamps on her nipples. Then down to her sex and ass, both wonderfully and crudely on display.
Their gazes met, and something passed between them. The same sense of stillness and quiet she’d experienced last night settled over her. It was as if she’d been sinking down, down, down into her own submission, and now she’d settled at the bottom, where it was warm and safe, but also dark and dangerous. The rest of the world—the flogging taking place at the St. Andrew’s cross beside them, the faint murmur of voices and the occasional shout of pleasure or pain—they all ceased to exist. There was only her and him. Even the bondage was secondary when she was in this deep state of submission.
Solomon’s thumbs parted her labia, spreading her open, and then his lips brushed her clit.
Vivienne inhaled slow and deep, perfectly, blissfully at peace in that moment. Oh, her body was still hot with need and the sweet sting of pain, but she was a submissive in bondage, every part of her body and now her soul laid bare for her Master.
His tongue swept over her clit once, then again.
He grabbed her ankle. Vivienne jerked her chin up, whimpering in delighted pain at the fresh burn from the clamps.
He sucked her clit and released her ankle. Vivienne relaxed her chin.
His tongue slid down to the entrance of her body, then inside. It was small compared to what she wanted—his fingers, his cock—but even this gentle penetration had her hips lifting. She ground her sex against his face and felt him smile.
“Master Carter, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue.”
His face lifted from her pussy, and Vivienne waited for the next touch, not really registering Lillian’s words.
“Whatever the fuck it is can wait,” her master snarled.
“I’m sorry, but I must speak with Mademoiselle Deschamps.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? No. Leave.”
The lack of touch, coupled with the anger in his voice, broke through her fog-like arousal. Vivienne lifted her head, blinking as the world outside their little bubble came into focus. Lillian stood near Solomon, an attendant at her back. Tonight she wore a silvery gown and a long chain with a baby-fist sized Tahitian pearl.
Vivienne blinked, her brain not seeming to function correctly, because she was focused on what Lillian was wearing, not what the other woman had said.
Lillian turned to look at her. Vivian blinked at the other woman, totally nonplused by having this stranger intruding into such an intimate moment.
“I’m so sorry, Mademoiselles Deschamps, but there’s an emergency. I need you to come with me.”
Chapter 11
Solomon turned on Lillian with his fiercest scowl. He’d had a pretty good scowl even before the scar. Now his expressions could make grown men take a step back. Lillian didn’t look at him, and didn’t react to his wordless admonishment of her extremely rude interruption of their scene.
“I’m so sorry, Mademoiselle Deschamps, but there’s an emergency.” Lillian looked directly at Vivienne. “I need you to come with me.”
Solomon stepped between Lillian and Vivienne. “Do not address my submissive. You talk to me.”
Lillian looked like she would rather be anywhere but here. Nonetheless, she didn’t back down. “Mr. Carter, you and Mademoiselle Deschamps are enjoying one another’s company, but there is no formal arrangement between you. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to speak for her
.”
Solomon felt his lip pull up in a snarl as his hands curled into fists. “We are in the middle of a scene. It’s dangerous to yank a sub out and you fucking know that, Lillian. Step back, give me ten minutes and I’ll—”
“Emergency?” Vivienne mumbled. Solomon turned to her.
She still had the chain to the nipple cuffs in her mouth. She hadn’t spit it out, because he hadn’t given her permission to. His sweet, beautiful Vivienne.
His. She would be his again. His sub. Nothing more, because a relationship with this woman was like throwing not just gasoline, but C4, onto the fire.
Chemistry. It was all about their chemistry. And when she was like this, wonderfully submissive and responsive, their chemistry was contained and controlled.
Lillian moved closer and Solomon held out his arm, barring her from getting within touching distance of Vivi. The attendant with Lillian positioned himself to jump between her and Solomon.
“A young man by the name of Aldric showed up. He seemed quite upset, and insisted that he see you. When pressed, he said it was an emergency involving your family.”
Solomon was watching Vivienne. He saw her eyes widen with worry before she frowned. Her face was no longer a study in the elegance of arousal, but a mixture of dazed and alarmed. She blinked, her gaze now fully focusing on Lillian.
Damn it, he’d lost her. Not entirely, but she was no longer that unique mix of relaxed and tense that she always fell into once the scene really clicked. Once Lillian had started talking there had probably been very little hope of salvaging the moment. He lifted the nipple clamp chain from her mouth so she could speak.
“Did Aldric say who? What happened?” Vivienne’s attention shifted from Lillian to him. Their gazes met.
She didn’t say anything and he didn’t either. Her family was a subject that he wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Maybe twenty foot.
He reached for the straps holding her arms down, quickly undoing first those, and then the restraints holding her heels in the stirrups. When he turned back to help her sit up, she looked almost…embarrassed. Damn it, two strangers had intruded into the bubble of intimacy the scene created when she was at her most vulnerable.
