by Jen Katemi
The ball shoots straight back out into my palm. I was expecting it and catch it neatly. The second time I urge it back into place I find the way a little less tight and resistant. “Use your muscles, Mia. Hold tight. Suck it in. And rock your pelvis again, back and forth, yes, just like that. Can you feel it?”
“Oh my God! Alexei! Yes!” Her shriek takes us both by surprise as whatever’s going on inside her body takes hold to push her over the edge. She begins to climax, and in that moment, I can’t resist one second longer. I thrust my face between her legs and devour her pussy lips in an intimate kiss that is far more delicious than anything I’ve ever tasted. I lick and suck at her clit, adding external stimulation to whatever tremor is still going on inside. My tongue explores her seam, finding her entrance and darting into her channel at the exact moment her orgasm reaches its quivering peak and her pussy explodes in spasms beneath my ministrations.
Chapter Five
Mia
What the hell? The keening noise leaching unevenly out of my throat doesn’t even sound human. What is happening? My body is on fire with so much sensation I can’t think straight. Pain in my wrists and ankles. Pleasure slaking me in waves right at the core of my being. Both pleasure and pain deep inside, and there’s no way to tell where one sensation ends and the other begins. It’s too much. I can’t deal. Shudder after shudder wracks my body until I panic. So out of control. I can’t bear it.
I want to run. I want to hide from all of it, and yet I can’t with my wrists and ankles bound. Every muscle and fiber in my body ripples and clenches as my orgasm continues on.
How is this possible? I’m climaxing from the inside out, and the outside in, all at the same time. This has never happened. Ever. Everything hurts so badly, as if right down at a cellular level, and yet the pain is such exquisite torture that I would give anything to prolong it. Oh God, Alexei is back between my legs. His mouth, his lips, his tongue… Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I stop fighting and give in. The intensity takes me beyond thought, beyond anything. I cease to exist for a minute. Or ten. Or one hundred. I am nothing. And everything. And all things in between. I am done.
Eventually, perhaps forever later, the shudders subside and the pain of sensory overload recedes to a point where I can begin to put coherent thoughts together once again.
Alexei’s face is still buried between my thighs, though he’s no longer touching me at all. Except for his breath. Hot breaths, coming fast and ragged, heat my sated clit in a way that feels soothing to the vastly over-sensitized flesh.
“Holy flipping crap.” Really esoteric response. But my brain is still recovering. “That was … yeah.” My voice trails away. There are no words to explain the most intense orgasm experience I’ve ever had.
His muffled laughter blows more hot air across my woman bits, and I like it not because it feels good—I mean, it does—but because I suddenly realize it’s the first time I’ve heard him express any real sign of joy. When Alexei smiles it’s in that distant “polite” kind of way that doesn’t reach his eyes, and when he laughs it has a slightly cruel edge. I wondered what it would sound like if he laughed just because he wanted to. For joy, not sarcasm or cruelty. And now I know. He’s buried in my naked crotch, laughing quietly to himself, and the sound is like heaven in my ears.
He has one of those contagious laughs that helps the people nearby reconnect with the joy in their own hearts. Oh, Alexei. How many people have heard real laughter from your lips? Not many, I’m betting. Tentatively, I attempt to reach out and sink my fingers into his thick dark hair. Only, I can’t. I forgot I’m trussed up like a Christmas turkey.
It’s as if he hears my thoughts. He lifts his head and gazes up at my hands, still bound with loops of rope. His lips quirk.
“Want your freedom back?”
“Mmm hmm. Please.”
His touch is gentle as he loosens the bonds, first the cuffs around my ankles and then my wrists. As he frees my hands he tries a tender rub, and it is tolerable enough that I let him keep going. Even though the delicate skin around my wrists is already turning dark from the restraint, it feels almost pleasant to receive his massage.
“I tried to keep the loops fairly loose, to avoid…” His voice trails off, and he frowns at the red marks. “This.”
“It’s fine.” I snatch back my hands and rub them myself, wishing for the millionth time that I had a body that would react like a normal person’s. “It isn’t unusual if I’ve had any chafing. There’ll be bruises tomorrow, probably around my ankles, too. But it was my choice. I’d have told you if I wanted it to stop.”
When he kneels again, this time beside the chair, I do what I couldn’t earlier, and sink a hand into his tousled hair. Instead of the usual discomfort, the only sensation is a delicate softness within my grip. The spring of hair through my fingers is almost soothing. Maybe he really did short-circuit my system with that orgasm. It was certainly powerful enough. I curl my fingers experimentally, grazing his scalp. “I can’t remember the last time I touched someone like this, voluntarily.”
“Tell me how you feel, Mia. Where does it hurt?”
I check in with my body, doing the usual rounds. “Nowhere.” I can’t believe it. Arms, legs, torso, face. Even my privates are okay. “Other than a bit of discomfort around my wrists. For once, I’m not in pain.”
“Good.”
“It’s really unheard of. I’m not. In. Pain.” I probably sound as giddy as a kid let loose in a candy store, but I can’t help it. The relief is beyond words.
“Double good.” He strokes a finger gently down my still wet seam, and this time the sensation is pure pleasure. I shiver beneath his touch. How is it possible that desire is once again making itself felt?
“Don’t stop. That feels wonderful.”
He chuckles, a short burst of sound, and once again I’m struck by how seldom he seems to give in to genuine mirth. “You managed to hold in the Ben Wa. I take off my hat to your muscle tone and inner strength.” He tips his forehead briefly, and I slap playfully at his hand. A simple gesture, maybe, but one that, for me, breaks new ground.
Then a horror thought takes hold. “What if it went too far up? What if it got lost up … there?”
This time his laughter is more pronounced. “Oh Mia.”
“Well, you never know—”
“That’s impossible, little one. Concentrate. Can’t you feel it, still in there, vibrating gently whenever you move?”
I change position in the chair, and my eyes widen. He’s correct. I can feel it vibrate. It’s definitely deep inside, but not so far up that it feels wrong. Again, I shift experimentally, and the ball shivers inside me, setting off a pleasurable chain reaction that reverberates through my abdomen. “Oh! I … that feels…”
“Is my little Mia ready for more?” Alexei’s voice is hypnotic, adding fuel to my slow-burning fire. How is this even possible? The orgasm I’ve just had was so fierce it damn near split me in two. But these vibrations deep inside, coupled with the look he’s sending my way, so full of naked desire…
“I think, yes, I am ready for—oh!” I can’t help the yelp as he leans down and blows on my clit. “Yes. More please.” He complies with a firm, strong breath, timed just right as he grabs the end of the Ben Wa string and tugs hard and fast. The ball pops free at the exact moment he swipes at my clit with the tip of his tongue, and just like that, I fall over the edge once again into climax.
“Oh my God, Alexei, yes!” Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through my body, and for the second time in one night I let the experience take me to oblivion.
****
Alexei
After her second orgasm eases, I carry Mia to my bed. I’m not sure why I feel the need to take her into my personal space. I seldom allow clients up here in my apartment, and on the rare occasions I have, they would never be allowed beyond the outer playroom to my inner sanctum. It’s why I have my suspension rig set up in the entrance area. Play and leave. No commitment. No emotional t
ies. No letting them in to understand the real Alexei Dubois.
Mia will be my first. She’s as light as a feather in my arms, her eyes closed and her head drooping almost lifelessly back over the crook of my elbow as I walk. Did I take it too far? Did I take her beyond what she is capable of enduring? Is she even conscious?
“Mia. Are you still with me? Are you…”
Her eyes flutter open, briefly. I’m not sure what I expect, but in her eyes is gentle gratitude, not accusation.
My heart speeds up to the point it hurts my chest. Why is it different with Mia? Why am I compelled to let her in, even if only for this one brief night? Why does something that scares the bejesus out of me also feel so right?
I lay her gently on one side of my king-sized bed and awkwardly pull back the coverlet before sliding her in beneath the sheets. She lets out a tiny sigh and curls onto her side. “Oh, that feels so nice. So gentle. Like the softest rain.”
“They’re twelve hundred count sheets. Egyptian. The best quality.”
A tiny chuckle drifts upward. “Of course they are. I bet they’re expensive.”
“Well, yes.” She laughs again, and even though it seems like she’s laughing at me, in this moment, I don’t care. A few hours ago, I never even knew she existed. Now I can’t wait to get closer.
I strip off the remainder of my clothing, dump it on the floor and slide quickly in beside her. My hands shake as I undress, my cock springing free and standing to attention as if relieved to finally be let loose. I’m so fucking horny it aches. It’s been that way all evening.
This is nuts. I never have sexual intercourse with the clients. Ever. It’s the golden rule Masha and I agreed to when she first took me in. I told her I’d disappear, if she made me, and she smiled and shook her head. “I will never make you do anything you don’t want to, Alexei. This is your home now, and you don’t ever have to have sex again, if you choose not to. But you will, one day. And it will be when you find a personal connection stronger than the physical. One day you will make love, and it will be because you want to, not because someone makes you.”
I didn’t believe her back then. Happy-ever-after is a fake construct only for fairy tales, or so I’ve always believed.
Staring down at Mia lying in my bed, in my home, there’s a small part of me that wonders if maybe, there is such a thing after all.
One day you will want to make love…
It should be the easiest thing in world for me to deliver a couple of hours’ pleasure, with no more than a tickle of feather or a swipe of my tongue to provide her some release. It should be the easiest decision to send her on her way, knowing she’s both satisfied and titillated with her raunchy sex club experience. It should have been easy, to press down instead of up in the elevator, and take her instead to my usual dungeon suite where most of my clients find their pleasure and pain release.
It damn sure should have been easy to avoid nestling beside her in my own bed, fighting an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap her delicate little body in my arms and spoon as if we’re actual lovers and not merely a business transaction orchestrated by Madame.
Will it scare her, when she realizes how ready I am for sex? Part of me wants to scoop her up and hold her tight, so tight she can never escape, but instead I rest one of my hands gently on her hip and nuzzle the back of her neck for the briefest moment. Her hair drifts across my face, releasing a heavenly perfume. I inhale deeply, wondering what it is, knowing it couldn’t possibly be sunshine on fresh flowers. Because that would be ludicrous, for me to even know what sunshine on fresh flowers smells like.
She rolls around to face me. “Nothing hurts, Alexei. Nothing. Well, oh … ow!” Her peaceful expression turns to a scowl and she wriggles around, reaching an exploring hand down beneath one of her hips. She comes up with a clenched fist and opens her hand to reveal the shiny silver ball. “Another Ben Wa?”
I’d forgotten pocketing the ball after removing it from her body, but it must have flipped out of my clothing and into the bedclothes when I undressed so hastily. “No, it’s the same one. Want me to reinsert—”
“No, thank you. Perhaps later.” She lets the orgasm ball drop onto the bedside table nearest her. “Let me just enjoy this feeling of … nothing. No pain. At least for a few more minutes.” She lets out a satisfied sigh and adds, “It feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.” I start at her words that echo my own recent celestial thoughts. “Heaven amongst the twelve hundred count sheets. Minus the Ben Wa ball, of course. The proverbial pea amongst the soft bedding. I’ll have to save up and buy some for myself.”
“Orgasm balls? Or soft sheets?”
She punches me gently on the arm. “Maybe I’ll get both.”
“You could try bamboo.”
“Bamboo? How, I mean, um. I…”
Her eyes have widened, and I enjoy her obvious confusion for a few seconds, before I add, “For the sheets. I hear organic bamboo sheets are good for sensitive skin.”
“Oh, er, thanks.” Her cheeks flush dark, and my lips involuntarily curve upward. What did she imagine? A sharpened bamboo torture instrument? Sure, my business is pain, but not pain purely for the sake of it. I’m guided by my clients in that regard. Some require more pain, some less. Mia is so sensitive she can hardly bear to be touched. I would not suggest anything that would take her beyond her tolerance levels.
This woman’s innocence is so at odds with my whole life experience. It’s refreshing, even satisfying in a strange way. Strange, because physically I’ve never been less satisfied. My dick is so ready to blow that I can barely think straight. And yet the knowledge that I’ve just delivered her a pain-free few minutes creates a swell of pride in my chest.
The irony is not lost on me. I deliver pain for a living. I’m known as the king of pleasure and pain. There’s definitely a fine line between the two, and I know exactly how to traverse that wire-thin tightrope. My skills are renowned nationally, and these days I’m booked out months in advance because my services are rated so highly. I’m not being big-headed. I’m just stating fact.
And yet somehow, what I delivered for Mia tops everything I’ve ever achieved in my life up to this moment. A pain-free experience.
We lay quietly together for several minutes, side by side, touching and yet not touching. I try to analyze the strange ker-thump that keeps my pulse rate high and ignites an unfamiliar pang in my belly. Like the proverbial butterflies, I guess, only I’ve never felt them like this before. Why am I lying here grinning? As I continue to ponder whatever the hell has turned my insides to mush, she rolls in my arms and pulls up until she’s resting on her elbows.
“Will you please kiss me, Alexei?”
Seems it’s now my turn for the wide-eyed look. “Are you sure? Will that not reignite your pain lev—”
“After what we’ve just done? I’m hoping not. I’ve never been kissed before. Not passionately, anyway. I just always avoided it, until now.”
She’s never been kissed? “I…” My heart’s racing so fast she must surely see the pounding pulse in my throat. “Neither have I.”
Chapter Six
The words rush out before I can stop them.
Her mouth briefly drops open. “What? How is that even possible?”
I shrug. “I was working on the streets when Madame found me. No one I met back then was interested in kissing.” I manage to contain the instinctive shudder as memories of that time threaten to surface. No one I met was interested in kissing. One sentence that sums up years of past horror, but I will not go into more detail. Not with this beautiful, innocent woman lying here in my arms.
“But weren’t you only … fourteen?” Her eyes glisten, instantly full of moisture.
Fuck it. I can’t bear the thought of her starting to cry. Over me.
“Did Madame tell you that? She shouldn’t have.” Annoyance blooms at Masha’s indiscretion. It’s not like her to share details of my past. She knows how much I value my privacy. Why would she
break that trust with Mia? “It was all a long time ago. I don’t dwell on those memories now.”
I will not have her pity. I will not. Then something occurs to me and I add, “Mia, you don’t need to be concerned about catching anything. I got tested back then, a lot. Madame took me every three months, for years. Turned out I was clean then, thankfully. And I still am. I never have penetrative intercourse with the patrons, and my role here as Dom does not lend itself to kissing. In truth, I’ve never really wanted to, and Madame has been nothing but supportive in letting me avoid things like, well … things that I do not wish to do.”
“Oh. Well, I hadn’t actually thought of that aspect, but … good to know.” She looks away. I’m pleased that her unshed tears seem to have disappeared. But then she turns back to face me, and I can see the sheen of moisture in her eyes remains. “How does a fourteen-year-old boy end up on the streets, Alexei?”
My breath catches at the unexpected question. Now it’s my turn to look away, but she reaches out and forces my gaze back to hers with a light yet relentless grip on my chin. I shrug again, trying for nonchalance but knowing I’m not doing a very good job of it. “The usual, I guess. My real mother was into drugs. Eventually she died, and I didn’t fancy staying with my stepfather, who was also into that lifestyle. So, yeah. I left, and somehow ended up working the streets for a while, until finally I wound up on that bridge where Madame found me.”
She just stares, open-mouthed. There’s a sudden lump in my throat that annoys the crap out of me. I swallow hard and stare back. “Well? It’s no big deal. It was all a long time ago. I’m perfectly fine.”
Perfectly fine. All alone. And known only for the level of pain I bring to those in need. Sure. I’m fine as fuck.
“Right,” she says. “You’re so fine you don’t have sexual intercourse, and you don’t … kiss?”
“Well. Neither do you.”
“Ouch. And true. Is this where I say touché?” Her eyes crinkle suddenly, and the growing tension lessens somewhat. “You’re definitely not what I was expecting, I have to admit. I’m sorry, Alexei. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I take it back. You don’t have to kiss me.”