Powerlessness and longing confused her and worked her up so much that tears misted her eyes. “Do they cry?” Rae asked.
Pain like a knife slashed through her back and she gasped. Her useless, too-late paranoia rang warning bells.
“You mustn’t forget to call me Master,” Wulf said. His offhand tone belied the fact that he had just smacked her with the riding crop.
“Yes, Master.” Rae blinked to clear the tears from her eyes because, with her hands tied, she couldn’t wipe them away. “I just wanted to ask, Master, do the subs cry?”
He stood close to her again, his chest brushing her back when she breathed. “Sometimes they do,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll learn to distinguish what it means when a sub cries. Some cry easily, often at the first stroke, but their tears mean little. It is for effect, part of the game. When they wail, it sounds false. They need you to be harsher, to push the game farther for them. If you can push their real boundaries, they will become your willing slave. Curtis is one of those.”
Rae nodded. Her eyes absorbed the tears, but the stripe on her back still stung.
“For some subs,” he said, “the playroom might be the only place in their lives where they can release their tears. That cry is different, more wracking, but they must be brought to the point where they can let go. Then they need to be soothed.”
She nodded, trying to think more about what he was saying then the ebbing pain on her back. She might need the information from her psychology classes here more than her theater ones.
“New subs, however, must be coaxed.” Wulf stroked her ribcage so gently that she wondered if he was using a feather, but his fingers were warm on her skin. “I would be ashamed of myself if I made you cry.”
“I won’t cry,” she said, “Master.”
“Yes, my natural-born Domme.” He massaged her neck, and she dropped her head forward, luxuriating in his touch. His kneading deepened, working away hard knots between her shoulder blades from typing research papers on her computer.
“Pain and pleasure lie on a continuum. New subs need pleasure.” His hands smoothed the skin around her waist, and he palmed her breasts again. “Mostly pleasure.” He ran his thumbs around her nipples. Her breasts tightened again as the rest of her body relaxed. He stepped forward and pressed his body against her, and his shirt scratched the hot stripe on Rae’s back. “Almost all the time, you do things to them that feel good, that they will like.”
His voice had softened because he was whispering right beside her, and his warm lips lapped her ear as his hands slid down her hips. She swayed against him to the soft violin music, lost in feeling his hands sliding over her skin. He rubbed her butt cheeks through her suit skirt, grabbing and pulsing handfuls of her flesh. His massage acquired a rhythm like waves, working her skin and body and she moved against him.
“But occasionally,” he said, “when they want more pleasure, when they are expecting more pleasure, you do something that scares them, that makes them realize that they are at your mercy.”
Wulf hiked her skirt around her waist and grabbed her panties. The lace scraped her skin as he yanked them down to her ankles. He grabbed her breasts again, holding her nipples between his thumbs and fingers, pinching.
Rae, nearly naked and defenseless, strained against the restraints, but they didn’t budge. Her skin burned from his touch, and his fingers pinching her boobs hurt and yet sparked lust in her belly. She wanted to turn around and grab him and pull his clothes off, but she couldn’t.
He said, “Kick the panties away.” His voice had deepened.
“Master.” She was breathless because his fingers held her nipples so tightly that just the slightest more pinch would cause a spike of pain, and his hands curled under her tits. She asked, “What if someone says the safe word?”
“Then everything stops,” he growled in her ear, as if he were angry with her for bringing up the safe word. “I will pull those slip knots on your wrists, and we will leave the play room. We discuss what went wrong outside. Our games are over for the day, if you say it.”
As much as she was afraid of the whips and what he was going to do to her, his hands on her tits grabbed her with just enough strength, and she wanted him to keep touching her, keep stroking her like he had been. “I won’t, Master.”
“Good. Now kick them away.”
Rae slipped the silky panties off her ankles and pushed them away. A hot drip slithered out of her pussy. She might be afraid of what he was going to do to her, but her body wanted him.
He kicked her feet apart with his shoe, all the way to the wood frame, and the swollen lips of her pussy parted. She stood with her legs spread open, wanting to close them because she was so vulnerable to anything.
His hands on her breasts gentled, and he began stroking her again. He gathered her to him, and he smoothed her skin and massaged muscles in her back and shoulders that she hadn’t known were tense. His hands roamed her body from her fingers to her knees, petting her.
With every revolution around her body, he verged on slipping his fingers into the moist folds of her pussy, but not quite. Her clit began to throb in time to her hammering heartbeat. His hand went up to her breast, circled her nipple, and down her stomach over her belly button to her pubes, and then the he slowed, stopped, and his fingers veered away without sliding inside.
Sexual tension twisted in her belly.
He stooped down for a moment, running his hands down one thigh and calf and then back up her thigh on the inside, and Rae thought that he was going to keep pushing his fingers up and into her, but he didn’t. He went down her other leg, held her ankle for a moment, and then stoked her flesh all the way back up, and he almost touched her pussy again but his hand swung away and over her bare bottom.
He stood behind her and pulled her hips back. His hard cock pressed through his pants against her ass again.
Rae adjusted her leg, but her ankle wouldn’t move.
She looked down, startled.
He had tied her ankles to the frame so quickly that she hadn’t felt him do it.
She struggled again against the leather thongs, and he chuckled at her flailing. “You can scream if you want. The playrooms have been soundproofed, though I sometimes think microphones would be better for business.”
Rae didn’t scream but moaned, letting the fear take over. She wanted out. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but as she was just drawing a breath to say Macbeth, his hands cupped her breasts again, tugging gently, and spirals of pleasure wound up her even though she was scared. She let her head fall back on his shoulder.
He handled her like he owned her, finding all the soft spots on the sides of her neck and the cheeks of her ass and teasing them until she was so sensitive that his every touch shocked her.
Finally, just when she thought he never would, when her body vibrated with frustration, he grazed the lips of her pussy with his fingertips.
She forgot that she was tied and tried to bring her arms around his head to hold him against her, but the leather straps held her spread-eagle.
His hand left her pussy, and he palmed her breasts again, tweaking the nipples. She moaned and arched her back trying to push her boobs into his hands. If he wouldn’t rub her clit, she wanted him to grab her tits until it hurt.
His breathing had turned ragged, like he might lose control of himself. His breath on her neck drove her crazy with wanting him to touch her down there, to rub her aching nub until she came.
He stroked the outside of her pussy again, teasing her. She wanted to grind against his hand, to force it inside of her, but she couldn’t move. If he had untied her just then, she would have jumped on him and clawed his pants off. She held onto the cold metal handles, futilely wiggling, trying to push his hand inside her folds.
His hand left her pussy and she thought she might sob in frustration. She whimpered, and his hands pressed harder against her body.
He stepped away, and Rae hung on the handles, so crazed
with wanting him. “Why, Master?” she asked and was surprised that her voice came out raspy.
Burns sparked across her back.
She gasped, and her skin felt the sting of the whip as nine stripes of hot pleasure, like he was rubbing her back harder, rougher. The whip slapped her back and ass again, and the harsh bites tightened her breasts and pussy until she thought she was going to come. Her rasping breath quickened.
The whip clattered to the floor, and he was behind her again, pushing against her. The whip left the skin on her back raw, and his clothes scraped where the whip had stung her. Her body was so primed to feel everything as pleasure that she gasped and pushed back against him, wanting it to hurt more because it burned so good.
He grabbed one of her tits, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. With one finger, he touched the very top of her pussy, then slowly, sadistically slowly, eased his cool finger into the softness.
Rae couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her attention was riveted on that soft invasion that she was helpless to prevent.
A small part of her mind—a very small part that wasn’t consumed with the way his soft finger entered the folds of her pussy and his other hand thumbed her boob—gave up her fear of what he might do, and she wanted him to do things to her, anything, and didn’t want to be able to stop him because the lust and wanting and hunger for him finally outweighed her fear.
His finger reached her clit, and she moaned, arching to push her ass against him.
“At this point,” he whispered in her ear, “if you were an experienced sub and we were playing, I might do all sorts of things to you. I might whip you hard for such presumption. I might take you with a sex toy, denying you my body. Whatever I did, it would be just a little different, or a little more, than you wanted.”
His hand left her tit for a moment though his other hand still stroked her hot clit, pushing pleasure up her pussy and spine, and he unzipped his pants. His cock nudged Rae’s ass, but he jerked away. Foil ripped.
His voice was so low, she barely heard him say, “But we agreed that you wanted this, and I cannot resist you.”
His fingers spread her wide-open pussy farther and his cock slid up her wet center.
The jolt of him pushing into her bowed Rae forward as far as the restraints and his cock allowed her. She hadn’t dreamed helplessness would feel so good. His finger circled her clit while his dick glided into her from behind, stroking her inside. His other arm clamped around her waist so she couldn’t move her hips and certainly couldn’t get away.
“God, you’re wet,” he growled into her neck as he shoved his cock in her.
He felt huge and stretched the soft skin inside her. Hot slip ran down her thighs. She wanted to push back, wanted more of him, but her tied wrists and ankles and his strong arm around her waist imprisoned her. She wanted to grab him and force him deeper into her, but she couldn’t move. He stoked her slowly inside, and his finger slipped around her clit, rubbing around the edges but not pushing the pleasure in like she craved. Waves of pleasure wracked her body, but she couldn’t come. She tensed, grabbing him with her pussy, trying to make him come so he would drive into her hard.
Wulf gripped her waist tighter with his arm, pushing her off and pulling her down on his cock.
Her pussy coiled tighter, ready. She leaned forward, trying to push his finger against her clit and work him deeper.
He released her waist and pushed her forward, and his finger finally—finally!—found her aching clit.
Rae grabbed the handles as hard as she could and held them as all that craziness, all the frustration, all the tightly wound pleasure burst in her pussy and rocketed up her spine to her head. She screamed, “Yes!” as waves pulsed through her, blinding her to everything except his cock stroking her slit and his hand rubbing waves of ecstasy into her.
Wulf grunted and threw back his head. He held her there, her limbs strapped to the frame and impaled on his hard cock as he ground against her, panting as he came.
He breathed hard for a moment and held her on him. Rae gasped for air, trying to hold herself up when all she wanted to do was collapse on the floor and shake. Even last night couldn’t compare to this heart-attack orgasm.
Wulf slid one arm around her waist, holding her on his still-hard dick, and pulled the slip-knots to release first her arms and then her ankles.
She sagged back against him as the blood rushed back into her arms and her legs trembled. His strong arms kept her from crumpling.
“My God,” she said.
His chest rose and fell against her back because his breathing rasped, too. His head fell forward on her shoulder, and he absently kissed her shoulder. “Oui,” he said. “Mon Dieu.”
“I don’t think I can move.”
“You don’t have to.” He reached between them with one hand and pulled his hips back, sliding his dick out of her. She moaned because, even though she was sore and exhausted, his cock in her felt good. He still held her up with one arm because her legs wobbled.
After a minute, he turned back and picked her up in his arms.
“Oh my God,” she said as her feet left the ground. “No one can pick me up.” Rae had grown almost a foot in high school, and since her junior year, no one had even tried to hoist her into the air.
Wulf curled her naked body against his white shirt and carried her over to a chair.
He settled her on his lap and held her while she shook with exhaustion and the aftermath. Her naked ass sat on his pants. She said, “That was amazing.”
His modest shrug rose around her. “An introduction.”
“No, I’m serious. That was amazing. I’ve never done that before.”
He chuckled. “Yes, your application was a little thin.”
She laid her hand and head on his chest. His heart beat slowly under the thick slabs of muscle. She could check three more boxes on that application form now. “What was that thing you whipped me with? It didn’t hurt, really.”
“It was a cat o’nine tails, but the tails were made of suede. Such a soft whip is for the effect rather than to produce pain. The term for whipping with a cat o’nine tails is actually ‘flogging,’ not whipping.”
“Wow.”
“I’m afraid your Domme training turned into play time.” He stroked her naked back. She was surprised that her flesh didn’t sting when his hand ran over her. “We’ll have to do better tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Today was Sunday, and she had to study for an exam on Monday morning. The test didn’t matter if she had to leave school, but if she didn’t have to quit college and go back to Pirtleville, the test did matter. She had to pass her other classes if she wanted to graduate on time.
“Yes,” he said. His firm voice sounded like he had made a decision. “You’ll have Domme training for an hour or so.”
“Domme training with you?” She was mortified that her voice sounded stupidly hopeful.
“Yes, at first.” His offhand remark sounded like he was thinking about something else. “Sometimes I’ll put you with other Doms, too. However,” he looked back at her, and his blue eyes crinkled with amusement. “No more play time. We have to train you, not screw you, even as absolutely delightful as that was.”
Rae snuggled in against him, wondering what training was like, since this wasn’t training. She wasn’t as scared as she had been just a few hours ago.
Wulf rubbed her arm and kissed her forehead. “Rae, we should discuss something else.”
“Yeah?” She was a little sleepy.
“You should talk to the other girls about me.”
Rae wasn’t sleepy any more. Lizzy and Georgie had already told Rae all that they knew, which wasn’t much. “Why?”
“You should know how I am. You shouldn’t get attached to me.”
“Lizzy and Georgie said you ‘love women, crave women, and like to be with women, in the plural.’”
Wulf laughed this time, and his chest rumbled beside Rae’s head. “They’re spot on.”
>
Georgie had also said that The Dom got inside your head and knew what you wanted, even if you didn’t know it or didn’t want to say it.
Uneasiness rose in Rae as she realized that Wulf had done just that to her.
Rae felt helpless in a different way, now. Being tied to the wooden frame and fucked from behind paled beside this vulnerability, that he had sized her up and known exactly what to do to her.
He adjusted his arms around her. “You can relax. It’s just a natural reaction to having a naked woman on my lap. It will go away presently.”
Confused, Rae glanced around, and then realized that his cock was nudging her ass through his pants again.
She took a deep breath, unsure she should do this, and asked, “What else do they say about you?”
Wulf glanced away and seemed to consider for a moment. He stoked her arm, slowly, three times. “That I’m an empty shell. Sometimes they say an empty suit.”
Last night in the limo, Georgie had said that The Dom was as smooth and polished as mirror. Whatever you were or wanted reflected off of his perfectly shiny shell. “Are you?”
Beside her cheek, Wulf sat up straighter and looked toward the door. “I apologize, Reagan, but I have some things to attend to.” His arms strengthened around her, hugging her, and then he stood and set her on her unsteady feet.
Rae tugged her skirt down over her hips, covering her pussy, as he walked away from her. The rest of her clothes was scattered all over the playroom. Her nakedness and abandonment combined to make a whole new kind of helplessness.
Dang, she felt awful.
Beside the door, Wulf paused. “Outside the waiting room, turn left, and there is a ladies’ spa room with showers, if you like.”
Rae doubted there were any ladies in The Devilhouse. She crossed her arms over her bare breasts to hide them and looked away.
“Reagan?” he asked.
She couldn’t look at him. Shame and embarrassment blew up inside her, and her face flushed hot. She felt stupid for all that, and she wanted to yell at him.
“Rae,” he walked back over to her and held her bare shoulders. She tightened her arms over her breasts. “What is it?”
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