Adventurous Me

by Deanndra Hall

  The pain ignites my desire, and my clit’s begun a vicious, relentless throbbing. I wonder if he’s going to want me to ride his magnificence. Instead, he grips my thighs from underneath, lifts my legs, and drops them back onto his with my calves on the outsides of his legs. It dawns on me that he can butterfly my legs completely open by moving his apart. He opens the storage tub, but when I try to look, he snaps, “Eyes to the front! This is about trust. Do you trust me?” I nod. I can hear him moving things around.

  He leans slightly forward and draws something around my chest above my breasts – a wide nylon strap with a buckle. Once he’s fastened it, he tightens it, and that’s when I understand; it wraps around both of us. He’s bound me to him, my back to his chest. When he leans forward the second time, another strap appears around my waist. I’m bound to him in a way that leaves me completely unable to move independently. Two more straps go around our thighs, as far up as he can get them, and another pair just above our knees.

  “Put your wrists together.” When I get them crossed, he ties them with a length of nylon rope, leaving two long tails. “Over your head and behind it.” I bring my arms up and drop my hands behind my head, and he slips his head into the circle of my arms. Then he takes the rope ends and brings them around in front of us, tying them together. That’s it – I can’t move without his help.

  This binding is erotic in a way I’ve never experienced. I am, for all intents and purposes, one with him, completely at his mercy. His cock is deep inside my back channel, and I can’t move unless he does, so it’s pretty clear he won’t be pumping into me with his dick. The helplessness I feel sends white-hot current from my scalp to the soles of my feet, but I can’t figure out what he’s about to do.

  Reaching around both of us, he parts my labial lips and presses a finger into my pussy. “You’re already wet. Good. I suppose you’re curious about what I’m going to do with you.” I nod, and he draws the finger up inside my slit until he finds my clit, circling it ever so gently. “You’ll like it. You’ll beg for it again before the week is over. It will satisfy you in a way you’ve never known before.” His certainty makes me shiver. But I can’t help wondering: If he’s just going to finger me, why in the shower?

  Master leans us both forward and starts the water in the shower. It doesn’t come out of the shower head up on the wall; instead, it shoots out of a hand-held shower head lower, below the control. After waiting for the water to warm up, he takes the hand-held head and trains the water on my mons. “Too hot?” I shake my head.

  Oh my god. As I understand what he’s planning to do, a painful thrumming sets up just behind my nub. He turns a ring on the shower head, and I watch in horror and fascination as the water goes from a rain-like circle to a pulsing, concentrated stream. Something deep inside me makes me wish I was wearing a blindfold.

  “I see you understand what I’m about to do. I will take you somewhere you’ll want to go over and over. And you will be completely silent, do you understand?” I nod. “Not a peep. Again, safeword – you may speak.”

  “Red, Master.”

  “Very good. Prepare yourself.” He places his finger over my clit and moves the showerhead. When he takes his finger away, the stream is shooting directly into my swollen little nodule.

  No doubt about it, it’s beyond stimulating. I can barely wait to feel the orgasm building, to feel the pressure mounting, to come, unable to thrust my hips or close my legs because of our bindings and the way his legs hold mine open. I can feel myself slipping into it, the clenching and releasing deep in my core, and I’m ready for it.

  Before I can fall into it, he reaches back into the plastic tub and pulls out a giant dildo, bigger than the one he used when he double penetrated me. He places it at the entrance to my pussy and pushes it into my already-slick channel. It fills me up to bursting with his cock in my ass, and I fight the urge to cry out.

  Holding the dildo in place with his free hand, his fingers trail up my slit to my clit once more. But this time he surprises me. He spreads our legs wider, then uses his index finger to retract the hood over my pearl and hold it. With his middle finger placed directly over my bud, he shifts us ever so slightly and then removes the second finger.

  It’s blinding. A jetted stream of water hits my plumped-up, fully-exposed clit full force, and I fight to keep from gasping. I can’t move, can’t escape, can’t even draw my legs together, and I can’t remember my safeword, even though it’s just about as standard as they come. All I can do is feel the pain of the concentrated stream of water drilling into the most sensitive spot on my body, spiking into it, and the knotting of the muscles in my abdomen and pussy are going from rippling to excruciating spasms in a matter of seconds. I want him to stop, but I also desperately want it, what he’s offering me, the pain and the release, so many sensations bombarding me that I fight to keep my wits about me. More than anything, I want him to be pleased with me and enjoy me. I want him to want me more than he’s ever wanted any woman. I can barely breathe, and I know that, whatever my body does, it will be violent. It’s a struggle to stay quiet.

  “So intense. So painful. So hungry for it,” he whispers, and a wild shudder runs through the deepest part of me as his breath tickles my ear. I almost whimper, but I want more than anything to follow his orders and stay silent, to please him and to show him that I can take whatever he challenges me with. Everything is building, the spasms in my gut almost unbearable, and then it happens.

  I come. The orgasm swallows me whole, dropping me into a darkness that has no bottom. Every inch of my body is sizzling, my hips unable to churn, my legs spread so wide that there’s no escape. No muscle in my being is relaxed; everything is drawn up and screaming. My hands fight against his neck and the rope, and my body struggles to be released from the straps, but there’s no release and no relief. A silent scream forms on my lips, and I can feel my eyes rolling back, but there’s nothing I can do as my body goes into complete overload and I lose any control I might’ve had. My head thrashes. My legs cramp. And he keeps going, never letting up, never moving the stream of water, and it’s too much. I hear myself make a guttural sound followed by a shriek the likes of which I’ve never uttered before. That’s all I remember.

  When I manage to pry an eye open, I look around. I’m in Master’s bed, naked and wet, but stretched out and comfortable with a sheet drawn over me. There’s soft music playing, some kind of jazz. As I listen, I can hear his voice somewhere in the house.

  “Yeah. And I’m worried. She still hasn’t come around . . . I tried that. This has never happened before, and there’s no way for me to know if . . . Do you think I should call an ambulance? Her pulse is strong and her breathing is even.” I can hear his voice getting closer, and then it’s in the room. “She’s awake. Gotta go.” Before I can say or do anything, he’s there, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me against his body.

  “Jesus, are you okay?” I shrug – I’m not sure, because I can’t figure out what happened. “You scared me to death.” Because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to speak, I just bury my face in his chest.

  “Hey. We need to go vanilla now,” he says, pulling my face up so I can look into his. There’s worry in those sweet eyes. “I want you to talk to me. Trish, baby, what happened in there?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. One minute I was in the shower with you. The next, I was waking up in here.”

  “You passed out cold. That’s never happened before.” He strokes my face as he speaks.

  “So you do this with subs often?”

  “Just occasionally.”

  “And this has never happened before?” I’m having trouble believing that. How could anyone take anything that intense?

  “No. There’s a really good reason for that too.” He draws my face up and looks directly into my eyes. “No other sub has ever let that happen. They safeworded the split second the orgasm hit. You’re the first sub I’ve done that with who’s hung in there and ridden t
he crest. I saw things in there with you that I’ve never seen before. Frankly, I probably would’ve stopped a lot sooner, but I was so caught up in watching you, your body, the way you were responding, that I forgot to turn off the water.” He kisses me gently, then puts his hand under my chin to hold my gaze. “You wanted it. You wanted whatever I gave you. You were determined to say nothing, to follow my orders, to take it. You wanted me to own your body.”

  I can feel my face starting to burn. I’d wanted it so badly, to please him, to know if he came inside me as I writhed, that I hadn’t given a thought to myself. Well, if he had come inside me, I missed it. Apparently I missed quite a few things, unconscious as I was. I’m sure my cheeks are flaming in embarrassment.

  “Why are you blushing?” There’s no way I’m meeting his eyes. “Why would you be embarrassed?”

  “I’m afraid of what you must think of me,” I whisper.

  “What do you mean? What do you think I think of you?” he quizzes, a puzzled look on his face.

  I can’t look at him. “You must think I’m the biggest slut you’ve ever seen.” There’s a tear threatening to roll down my cheek, and I decide if that happens, if I cry, I’ll just have to leave. I wouldn’t be able to take any more from him. All I’d wanted was to make him happy with me.

  “Baby, that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” I think for a second that I’ve heard him wrong, and my eyes rotate straight toward his. “I’ve never seen a woman just lose herself in an orgasm to the point of unconsciousness. I won’t lie – you scared the shit out of me, and I’m not eager to experience that again. But it was, well, it was just fucking amazing, angel. It made me feel like the most powerful man on earth, knowing you were satisfied in a way I’ve never satisfied any other woman.” He kisses my forehead. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “I got a chance to peek into the envelopes before we left the club the other day.” He’d peeked too? I can’t believe it. “And I know what was in them.”

  I nod. “I peeked too.”

  “No! Really? So you know too?” He seems completely at a loss. “What do you make of it? I’d just like to hear your opinion.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I’d say Dave thought we should do this together. I don’t know why. Do you?”

  He smiles. “I have no idea why. But right now,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose, “I’d say Dave is a very wise man.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I would’ve been devastated if you’d gone with anyone else,” he adds, and I know he means Master Steffen.

  Clint wanted me. He wanted to spend these weeks with me. And we wound up together. There’s a tiny little hint of fear on his face when he asks, “Were you disappointed? Did you want to go with . . . someone else?”

  I shake my head, and I’m not lying. “I was relieved, even glad, when they called my name with yours. I was afraid, but I was glad too. You were the one I wanted to go with, Master.” I can’t believe I just admitted that, but it feels good to get the words out into the air.

  “Vanilla. Call me by my name – call me by my name, Trish. I need to hear it.” He bends to my neck and starts to kiss it.

  “I’m glad they called my name with yours, Clint.” His head snaps up and he crushes his lips to mine, his tongue parting them and our tongues dancing together. That’s when I feel it. Something powerful is going on between us, something I can’t identify because I’ve never felt anything like it, like a magnetic current holding us together, my lips tingling as they press to his. He breaks the kiss but, before I can say anything, he pulls back and looks into my face.

  “Trish, I probably shouldn’t say this, but . . . no, I can’t.” Oh, god, I think, please tell me you feel something for me.

  “What,” I ask, then add, “Clint?” The minute his name hits the air again, his lips return, urgent and demanding, his hands cupping my breasts, drifting downward, and resting on the tops of my hips. I think since he didn’t finish the sentence, I’ll feel a disconnect. It’s anything but.

  Then he stops. “Feel okay?” I nod. “Let’s get cleaned up, get dressed, go out. I’ll take you to dinner. I’ll call some friends, see if they can meet us. How does that sound?” He smiles at me and taps his fingertip on the end of my nose.

  “What will you tell them? How will you explain me? Will you tell them I’m your sub?”

  He laughs. “Nope. Vanilla, baby. I’ll just tell them you’re my date.”

  “By the way,” I say and look into his eyes, “can we do that again?”

  His mouth drops open, and then he says, “Are you serious? You’ve got to be either brave or crazy, girl.”

  “Yes,” I grin. “I am.” Brave or crazy – there’s a difference?

  There are two guys, Matt and Adam, and their girlfriends, Sarah and Amy, respectively. The guys are friends from the place where Clint used to work. We meet them at a bar and grill downtown a couple of blocks from the club. The guys seem nice enough. The girlfriends eye me suspiciously. I can tell they’re wondering about me, I assume about the age difference between Clint and me. I know I look good for my age, but I am still almost fifty. I’m under no illusion here.

  “So, where did you two meet?” Matt asks.

  Clint takes another sip of his whiskey. “At a club here in town.”

  “Funny, you don’t look like the kind that would go ‘clubbing,’” Sarah snarks toward me, using air quotes. I see Clint shoot me a look. He’s wondering how I’ll respond.

  I think back to what Dave taught me: A sub’s behavior and demeanor reflect on her master. “Looks can be deceiving,” I say smartly and look back down into my drink. Cosmo. He remembered.

  “Not that kind of club. Book club. We were reading, what was that book?” he asks, smiling at me. Little shit.

  “I think it was a Barbara Kingsolver. No, maybe Amy Tan.” Now I’m smiling and he’s scrambling.

  “I’ve never read an Amy Tan in my life,” he throws back, and I start laughing.

  “I’m just kidding. I don’t remember what the book was. I was too busy looking at the scenery,” I say and blush. I feel his hand on my leg, and he squeezes it just above my knee. Everything between my legs ignites.

  We eat huge burgers and homemade potato chips, and we ask for water when we’ve finished our drinks. I excuse myself and leave to go to the restroom. When I come out of the stall, Amy is standing there in front of the sink, preening in the mirror. “So, when did you and Clint start going out?”

  “We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks,” I offer. Well, it’s true. A week and a half.

  “Oh. Have you met the girls?” She’s putting on fresh blush.

  “No. They’re visiting his mother right now.” I check my eye makeup – still looks fine.

  “Oh. Shame about his wife, huh?” She’s not looking at me at all, so fortunately she can’t try to read my face. She wouldn’t like what she’d see on it.

  “Yes, it is.” I have no idea what she’s talking about. He’s never shared any of this with me, but I don’t want her to know that.

  “He’s had a very hard time since, well, you know.” She puts on more lip liner. “We’ve never seen him with a woman since then. But I guess you know all about that.”

  As much as I want to ask what happened, my irritation turns to an overwhelming anger. This is my Master she’s talking about. She’s trying to divulge his personal information, discussing it like it was coffee chat. And I find that even though I’m curious, I hate that. I just reply, “That’s Clint’s personal business. I don’t feel free to discuss that.”

  She spins and stares at me, eyebrows peaking. “Really? Hmmm. That’s a new one. So much for getting to know you.” She turns and stomps out of the restroom. Getting to know me? She wasn’t trying to get to know me. She wanted me to betray my Master, and I wouldn’t. I want to run out there and tell him, but I’ll wait until we leave.

  The girlfriends say noth
ing to me for the rest of the evening. At eleven, Clint says, “I think we need to get going. Morning’s going to come fast.” We get up from the table and make all the appropriate goodbyes. The girls are very stand-offish to me, but the guys are warm and friendly. I’m careful to do nothing that would look like flirting.

  We walk back to the car hand in hand. “That didn’t go very well, did it?” he suddenly asks.

  I shrug. “I guess not.”

  “Why, do you think?” he asks me, and I can tell from his tone that he’s sincere, not angry.

  I can’t look up at him. “The girlfriends didn’t like me. First, they thought I was too old for you. I think when they asked where we met, they expected you to tell them that you met me when you were volunteering at the nursing home where I live.” Clint roars with laughter. “I’m not kidding,” I almost whisper, and he quiets.

  “Sorry. I guess that isn’t funny, but . . .” and he starts laughing again. I lay a silly slap on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Okay. Anything else?”

  “Yes.” I don’t know how to tell him this. “When I was in the restroom, Amy was in there.”

  “Yeah?”

  “She was asking me questions and making comments about you and . . . your wife.” I know he doesn’t want to talk about this.

  He doesn’t look upset or angry, just curious. “Not surprising. What did she say?”

  “Not much. She kept saying, ‘You know, with all he’s been through,’ and ‘But I’m sure you know more than we do,’ and things like that.” I stop. It hurts me to know that he hasn’t trusted me enough to tell me anything, that casual acquaintances know more about him than I do.

  “Did that bother you?” His voice is quiet and serious.

  “A little. But what bothered me more was that she was willing to break your confidence like that. I decided I didn’t like her talking about my Master that way. That’s hurtful.” I’m trying to turn loose of his hand, but he’s gripping mine tighter. He stops on the sidewalk.