Leaving Roman

by Becca Jameson

  He steps into my space, one leg positioned between mine, his torso lined up with the side of my body. The tiny hairs on his chest brush over my nipple, making me whimper and arch into him.

  He leans in so his lips are close to my ear. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are right now. So gorgeous. Your tits are hard points begging for more attention.” He slides his knee up between my legs and presses his thigh against my pussy.

  I rise onto my toes, moaning.

  “So warm. I bet you’re soaked.” He lowers his knee and runs a hand down my belly and then lower, cupping my pussy. When he flattens his palm firmly against me, I grit my teeth around the flimsy material of my nightie. I can’t imagine how I’m going to avoid dropping it. “Yep. Drenched,” he announces loud enough for the camera to pick up. He gives my pussy a light swat, making me flinch.

  My sex is on fire. God, I need to come.

  Master Roman steps back and shifts the wand to the hand he just swatted me with. He turns it on low, holding it near my ear so I can hear the vibrations. Next, he lowers the tormenting device to my nipples, tapping one and then the other.

  My eyes roll back. He knows how sensitive my breasts are. He uses that to his advantage. Always. Today will be no exception.

  He presses the rounded head of the wand against my nipple, forcing me to feel the trembling deep inside. Next, he circles the erect tip, teasing it mercilessly without further contact. I know it’s a hard peak. Aching. Greedy.

  And then he switches to the other nipple, treating it to the same excruciating torment.

  Wetness is running down my thighs. I’m convinced half the reason Daddy likes me to wear full-cut, little girl panties is because he knows the large surface area remains uncomfortably wet most of every day. He’s also a fan of short dresses that barely cover my bottom for the same reason, so he can easily slide his hand under my skirt and check my panties for arousal. It pleases him immensely that I’m always ready for him.

  Of course I’m always ready for him. I get aroused from the moment I dress for him and stay that way.

  Daddy lowers the vibrator to my belly, dancing it over my skin. “My little blossom needs to come, doesn’t she?”

  I can do nothing but nod. His question’s rhetorical anyway. He’ll let me come when he’s ready, not when I am. If I were the one choosing when I get to come, it would’ve happened a long time ago.

  The wand moves lower, over my hip, down to my thigh. He trails it up my inner thigh until it gets close to my pussy but doesn’t touch me where I need it most. I wonder why he has left my panties on.

  He switches to the other thigh, teasing the sensitive skin between my legs on that side. Finally, he rolls the wand up along the edge of my wet panties, tapping the lace. His voice is in my ear again. “I’m going to leave this sexy lingerie on you, blossom. I know you don’t need me to take it off to get the relief you need, and I think I’ve exposed enough of you to our friends for one day.”

  I’m both relieved and disappointed. He’s right about our friends. I’ve never been this exposed, both physically and emotionally. On the other hand, I want his fingers on my bare skin, his cock touching me, something…anything thrusting into me. That isn’t going to happen apparently.

  The wand rolls to the center, gently teasing my pussy lips. Instead of trailing it forward to hit my clit next, he drags it the other direction, pressing it against the tight hole of my bottom.

  My head falls back and I struggle futilely at the unexpected sensation. Daddy plays with my bottom often. We have anal sex. He uses toys inside me to stretch me. I’m used to all of those things. But he’s never pressed a vibrator against my opening. The sensation is strange, kinda scary. It radiates forward, making my sex pulse with need.

  My legs start shaking, and I’m holding my breath as he presses the wide head of the wand against my panties. It’s intense. Unexpected. I can’t think.

  Finally, he releases the pressure, but a second later the vibrator is on my clit. I cry out behind the gag in my mouth, biting down hard to keep from dropping my nightie. Usually I prefer more direct stimulation. Teasing me through my panties only makes me hornier. But after so many days of abstinence and a half an hour of tormenting my over-sensitized body, I’m on the edge in a heartbeat.

  Master Roman taps my clit several times, angling the wand all around the area of swollen flesh. The thin layer of silk between my clit and his vibrator does nothing. My arousal rises by the second. And then he applies more pressure, the vibrations spreading all through my pussy and even my bottom. My legs won’t hold me up. I grip the pegs above my head tightly.

  “Come for me, blossom. Come for our guests and the camera. Show them how pretty you are when you shatter for me.”

  I’ve never been able to deny him when he orders me to come, and tonight is no exception. My entire body stiffens, and I thrust my pussy harder against the wand as my clit pulses, the orgasm hard and deep and fast.

  It’s over too soon, and Master Roman removes the wand. My ears are ringing, and I’m struggling to breathe through my nose, bereft of the contact with my pussy. I want more. One orgasm is not enough, especially one that doesn’t involve Master Roman stroking my folds with his fingers and then thrusting them inside me.

  I’m shaking, and I whimper as I try to focus on his face, pleading silently with him to give me more.

  He’s smiling at me. The wand is gone. His fingers stroke up and down my belly, over the edge of my panties, and then higher to circle my nipples without touching the swollen, sensitive tips.

  “That was beautiful,” he whispers.

  I blink. He has to know I need more. I came, of course, but it wasn’t enough.

  His smile tells me he’s clear about my plight. “You want more, blossom?”

  I nod at him, uncertain what I might be asking for.

  I watch as he steps away again, and a moment later he returns carrying an odd piece of furniture I’ve never seen before. It looks like a pommel horse, without the handles. The curved top is leather or vinyl. Other than that, it doesn’t seem out of the ordinary. Master Roman sets it down longways in front of me and then pushes it between my spread legs.

  I keep swallowing, another wave of uncertainty both arousing me and making me nervous. Nothing about this piece of equipment should concern me. If he intends to raise the height so that it presses against my pussy, I’ll simply be straddling a horse. Sure, the pressure will keep me aroused, but it won’t get me off. I wouldn’t even be able to grind my clit against it. Nor has Master Roman ever given me permission to masturbate, not even when he’s watching.

  My breath hitches when Master Roman tosses something over the top of the horse. Like a saddle. I fix my gaze on it, trying to figure out what his aim is. He straps the saddle under the horse and slides the entire piece of furniture farther under me until my pussy is lined up with the saddle.

  A moment later, he bends down and adjusts the pommel horse so that it gets higher. He glances up and then raises it again.

  I lift onto my tiptoes as the saddle molds perfectly to my sex. The design of it causes every inch of my panty-clad pussy to experience pressure, including my clit.

  When Master Roman stands, he smooths his hand around my neck and gives it a squeeze. “Another first, Lucy. I’m going to turn on this device and step back. We’re all going to watch as you come apart for the camera.”

  I can’t breathe. I’m shocked. He’s going to let me come without his touch? No. He’s not just going to let me come. He insists on it.

  His hands come to my face, and he removes the roll of mesh from my mouth. “I don’t want you to hold back. We want to hear you scream.” Instead of dropping the front of my nightie so that it will give me some tiny barrier, he lifts it over my head, tucking the lace and transparent tulle behind my neck. It’s still wrapped around my arms and shoulders, trapped. With my hair braided down my back, I’m totally exposed. Nothing will be between me and the camera. Nothing covering even part of my f
ace. No part of Master Roman’s body will be protecting me from the lens.

  I draw in a deep breath, my gaze lowered to avoid meeting anyone else’s. The view this presents to me is of my nearly naked body covered with nothing but bikini panties. Soaked panties made of a thin silk, edged with lace.

  I flinch when Master Roman turns a dial on the side of the saddle and then steps back. He has a remote in his hand. I don’t lift my face, however. I’m unable to move or release my breath. The saddle starts to vibrate, pulsing against my entire pussy all the way from behind the tight hole of my bottom to above my clit. The saddle molds to me perfectly. I won’t be able to escape it. If I didn’t have the panties on, it would be soaked and probably leave my skin raw.

  The vibrations increase, and I moan, my heels lifted off the ground to decrease the pressure. I won’t be able to keep this up though. My legs are already starting to shake. My entire body is actually. My breasts are jiggling, the tips hard points, shaking for the camera.

  I bite into my lip, trying to stave off the wave of pleasure threatening to pull me under. I need to come. I want to come. But I’m also mortified to perform like this in front of everyone I know best in the world. I’m going to fall apart. I’m going to scream. This next orgasm is going to be far bigger than the first. In addition, I have the sensation that it’s somehow my fault. That I’m so easy that I can’t control myself against a machine. It’s not Master Roman’s fingers or even a toy in his palm. It’s all me. Masturbating forcibly on video.

  The pulsing increases again. I moan as I lift my gaze and find that now there are two cameras. Beck is still focusing wide from a few feet away. Levi holds a second camera, and it’s aimed directly at my pussy on the saddle.

  I purse my lips to keep from moaning. My toes won’t hold me any longer. I have no choice but to give my thighs a break. When I drop down harder against the saddle, my eyes lose focus. My head rolls backward, my mouth dropping open, a sound I don’t recognize as my own coming from my lips. Guttural. Primal. Instinctive.

  The wave toward orgasm is fast, unstoppable. I’m pretty sure the vibration increases, and then I’m coming. Harder than I ever remember. I’m also screaming. My voice shattering the silence as my body shakes with the release.

  It lasts forever, not subsiding until Master Roman eases back on the vibrations. Eases back. Not stopping them. I’m gasping for oxygen as the waves of my orgasm keep coming, softer and further apart, but not abating.

  I jerk higher onto my toes again, trying to alleviate the pressure. The action gives me a moment to breathe, but I can’t hold the position, and seconds later, my pussy is once again under intense torment. I frantically lower my face, searching for Master Roman, needing him to stop the vibrations.

  He’s standing behind Julius and Claudia, smiling warmly, encouragingly.

  I want to beg him to turn it off, but I know it’s not in my best interest. If he wanted to stop, he would. I’m not even sure where the remote is. His arms are crossed. He must be holding it out of sight.

  Suddenly, the vibrations increase even further than before. One moment my pussy is too sensitive and needs a break. The next moment, I’m climbing to another orgasm. I lower my face to see my thighs jiggling against the pommel horse. My breasts are shaking hard. My soaked panties feel like they’re plastered to my pussy.

  I’m so aroused that I even rock forward to increase the contact, pressing my pussy more fully into the saddle. I’m aware of two things. I’ve never been this uninhibited, and I’d give anything to have something penetrating me.

  I’m not going to get my wish, but I need the release again, so I stop fighting it, leaning into it, thrusting my chest out and rocking my pussy against the saddle. My mouth falls open. The climax is deep and intense. I moan around it, enjoying the waves of sensation.

  I know from experience that a third orgasm in quick succession can reach deeper and rock my world. This one does just that, leaving me spent and exhausted.

  I think the vibrations stop. I can’t be sure though. After a few moments, Master Roman is in front of me. He quickly releases my ankles and then pries my hands from the rungs above me to lower my arms. He lifts my nightie back over my head, letting it fall over my tender nipples. And then he lifts me into his arms. I’m limp like a noodle, unable to open my eyes. All I can do is wince at the twinge of pain in my thighs and whimper as I snuggle into his chest.

  I never want to go without his comfort again. It feels so right.

  I’m warm. Nurtured. Loved.

  Home.

  Chapter 27

  Lucy

  * * *

  I’m curled up in Daddy’s lap in his office at Surrender. I apparently slept for a while, but now I’m relaxed and settled in with my cheek against his chest. He has his T-shirt back on, but his feet are still bare and resting on the coffee table in front of us.

  After unravelling my braid, he’s been stroking my hair for a while. I’m also naked. I don’t remember him stripping off my nightie and my panties when we got to the room, but apparently he did. I’m wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

  “Drink some more water, blossom.” He holds a water bottle out in front of me.

  I take it from him and shove a few inches away from his chest to tip my head back. I’m incredibly thirsty.

  He strokes the back of my head. “You were in subspace. You’ll probably feel drowsy for a while.”

  I nod as I hand the water back. We’ve talked about subspace. I’ve been there a few times at home when Master Roman teased me without letting me come, but I’ve never actually gotten this disconnected. I have no memory of everyone leaving or anything that happened after Daddy picked me up.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Yes, Sir. Much.” I snuggle back against him though, not wanting to break our connection.

  His hand wanders up and down my back, tangling in my hair. His other hand plays with the heart-shaped locket dangling from my wrist. I’ve never taken it off. “Six inches,” he whispers.

  I lift my head to meet his gaze. “What?”

  “You may cut six inches, and get layers.”

  I smile at him, sitting up straighter. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “And I’ll have Claudia take you shopping. Buy whatever you want. You don’t need to consult with me.” He’s holding my gaze.

  I’m stunned.

  “I’ll have Nancy arrange for the spare room across from the master bedroom to be turned into an office for you. A space I won’t enter. You can use the closet in there for your work clothes.”

  I’m speechless. I can’t move.

  He continues. “Julius is going to help you get your resume together.”

  My eyes start to water. I clear my throat. “Are you sure, Sir?”

  He nods, forcing a smile. “I’m sure that I want you to be happy. I’m sure that I can’t live without you.”

  I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, twisting around on his lap until I’m straddling him. My blanket falls to my lap, leaving my chest bare.

  His hands grip my waist and roam up and down my bare back, his thumbs grazing the edges of my breasts.

  “I love you,” I remind him.

  “I love you too, blossom. So much.”

  I lean back a few inches, my hands on his shoulders. “I promise I’ll always be your little girl, just not full time.”

  He nods. “I know. And I promise I’ll do my best to get through this stage and give you the space you need to grow.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur again.

  “Shall we go home?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you need anything from the apartment?”

  “No.” Probably not ever. The suitcase he sent was mostly filled with the clothes I wore to school. I don’t need those. I’m not a student anymore. I’m a grown-up. I need more adult clothing anyway.

  He lifts me off his lap and stands me on the floor, taking the blanket away and folding it to set it on the arm of the
loveseat. When he rises, he pads across the room and rounds his desk. After opening a bottom drawer, he grabs something and returns to me. It’s a pile of clothes. How long has he been keeping those here?

  He sits back down on the loveseat and picks up a very youthful pair of pink panties covered with little brown teddy bears, tapping my leg so he can put them on me.

  I grab his shoulders and let him pull the panties up to cover my bottom. They’re tight, and he pulls them up snuggly, making me gasp. My pussy is still swollen from earlier. I’m also aware that he hasn’t penetrated me.

  He grabs a youthful dress next. The top of it is white smocking with tiny pink flowers sewn into it. The skirt and short puffy sleeves are pale pink. “Arms up, blossom.”

  I lift my arms and let him pull the dress over my head. He tugs it down so that the edge of the smocking torments my nipples. From there the pink cotton material is fuller and flares out. It reaches just below my bottom. If I lift my arms, anyone around will see my panties. The elastic of the small sleeves is snug against my biceps.

  Master Roman lifts me again and sets me down next to him on the loveseat, facing him so that my legs drape over his lap. He puts white socks on me next and folds down the frilly part. White Mary Janes follow. His favorite. I know this outfit is what he would consider the perfect look for me. Either because he thinks I’m most comfortable dressed this young or because he likes to see me this way. Probably both.

  He spins me around next, brushes out my hair, divides it into two sections, and gathers first one side and then the other into high ponytails. My hair is so long and way too curly for the way he sometimes brushes it, leaving it frizzy and unruly on both sides. I guess he likes that look too. Usually he braids it, but occasionally he leaves it like this.

  Finally, he stands me in front of him again, his hands on my thighs. “You ready to go home, blossom?”