Knowing the Ropes

by Teresa Noelle Roberts

  “I’m kneeling, sir.”

  “Master. Have you forgotten so quickly you should call me Master?”

  But he hadn’t said…

  He was playing with her head. It was all part of the game. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn’t screwed up for real. Then she realized she was wetter and more open from that second of panic.

  When this was over, she was going to have to have a long talk with herself about preserving some basic common sense. Natalie sounded like a nutbar, but already Selene was starting to grasp how easy it would be to fall too far into the fantasy, lose touch with the fact that outside of the unusual relationship with Nick, the world continued to operate on its normal rules, and she still had all her normal rights and responsibilities in it.

  “Master,” she said, trying to put a world of yearning and yielding into the one word.

  What would come next? Well, ideally, she would ease the throbbing that had spread from between her legs and threatened to take over her entire body, but that was not to be.

  She cast her mind back over things she’d read, things she’d fantasized. Things that had made her come even though, at the time, she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the courage to do them. Still wasn’t sure, in some cases. But that was the joy of phone sex, wasn’t it? You could play with your further-out fantasies safely.

  “How may this slave earn your forgiveness, Master?” Then she added, in a slightly different tone of voice—the narrator, “Picture me arched over, like the child’s pose in yoga, kissing your boots.”

  “My boots?” His voice was amused but throaty, aroused.

  “Black thigh-high boots. Very pirate.”

  “They’re a bit dirty,” Nick said. “Not nasty dirty but dusty. Maybe a little grass stuck to them.”

  “I still lick them. You feel the pressure of my lips through the leather. My tongue licking off the dust. My arms around your legs, clinging to you. And in between kisses and licks, I look up at you as if waiting for instruction.”

  This was the corniest thing ever. So how come she was actually leaning forward as she was describing? How come she was imagining the scene so vividly, smelling the leather and Nick’s unique scent layered with it, tasting the leather and the hint of dust?

  How come she was grinning like a very turned-on fool?

  “Do you like that, slave?”

  Selene thought for a second and was surprised by her own reaction. “Yes. I’m dripping, and when my nipples brush against the carpet, it almost hurts, but in a good way.”

  “Your nipples are that sensitive?” Damn, from the barely suppressed glee in Nick’s voice, she was in for some nipple pain. Although why that was a damn situation, she couldn’t say, because her pussy was clenching at the thought, and she liked it when Nick treated her nipples roughly. “Do you have nipple clips?”

  “No, Master.” She’d always meant to order some off the Internet but never had, figuring they wouldn’t be nearly as much fun without an appreciative partner.

  A laugh. “That was actually Nick asking Selene, but I like hearing you say Master. If you had clamps, I’d tell you put them on. Instead, pinch your nipples, slave. Hard. And don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  “Oh yes, Master.” Now that was an order she was glad to obey. She sank her fingernails into the plump, sensitive flesh, imagining jeweled clamps, in keeping with the exotic theme the fantasy was taking. Heat roiled from her nipples outward, sunbursts of pleasurable pain radiating out, filling her body. Experimentally, she rolled and twisted, gasped in pleasure, eased up a bit because some small fragment of pride didn’t want to mewl edge again so soon, confess to how hot this silliness was making her.

  “Does that feel good, slave?”

  “Yes, Master.” Think. He couldn’t see. She needed to describe. “Feels wonderful, even though it hurts. Better than a light touch ever did, Master. I used to think there was something wrong with my nipples because I wasn’t that crazy about having them played with, but I’ve figured it out. I need pain.” She twisted again, letting him hear her sharp intake of breath.

  “Good to know. I want you to get some old-fashioned clothes pins as soon as you can for emergencies like this. You’ll need your hands later. And we’ll have to go shopping soon, get you some toys. Would you like that, slave? Some toys of your own?”

  For a second, she broke role completely. “Cool! Are there good places in Boston to get stuff like that? My vibrators could use some company.”

  “Yes, but I won’t say where. Don’t want you going without me.”

  “I wouldn’t. Besides, aren’t I kept in a cage or something when you’re not using me?” She couldn’t keep the sly amusement out of her voice.

  Or the arousal out of her body. She could see the fantasy slave’s cage, see herself behind the bars, staring out at her hunky master, aching for his sweet cruelty.

  “I never should have mentioned the cage to you, should I? I’ve hit on a fetish.”

  She laughed. “Not a fetish. A fantasy. When you made that joke, my logical brain said, ‘Holy shit! He’s crazy!’ and my pussy said, ‘But wouldn’t it be fun?’”

  “Very well, then. You have a cage. Quite spacious and comfortable, with furs and pillows, maybe something to read, and definitely sex toys to entertain yourself—and me—with but securely locked. Once you’re in there, you’re trapped. At your master’s whim. Waiting to be let out and used.”

  “Maybe I don’t need to be let out to be used. Maybe it’s set up so I could suck you through the bars, or be fucked. Would you like that, Master? Having me locked up and secure but still fuckable? Would you like to fuck me through cold steel bars, knowing I was your prisoner?” Between the nipple-play and the graphic images spinning out of control through her mind, Selene was barely in control, her cunt contracting around empty air in futile hope it could satisfy her.

  He groaned. “Jesus, yes! You are making me so fucking hard and hot, Selene. I love your dirty mind.” In a more controlled voice, the voice of the evil master, he added, “I’m putting you back into your cage, slave girl, to think about your behavior, and when I come back, you’d better be ready for me.”

  “Yes, Master.” Selene snuck a hand to her pussy, a quick, cautious caress. She was liquid, fiery, probably leaving a stain on the ugly carpet, and she bit her lip to fight the urge to bring herself off.

  “Play with yourself, but don’t you dare come. I’ll be back shortly.” Then Nick’s voice changed. “Although, I’m actually not going anywhere. Tell me what you’re doing.”

  “I’m lying down in my cage—well, really, on my bed. Is that okay? I’m not used to kneeling this long.”

  “Go ahead. I only want to break you in fun ways. And you can stop playing with your nipples while you’re getting settled.”

  She scrambled onto the bed. “I’m lying in my cage, my legs spread wide.”

  “Are you playing with your nipples again?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then do it. Pinch them. Pinch them hard. Harder than you were before. Imagine it’s me, and I’m punishing you by torturing your tits.”

  She complied. “I’m squeezing them, pinching as hard as I can, using my nails and thinking about clips. Some really nasty ones I’ve seen pictures of, with weights…don’t know if I could handle them, but I’d like to…” At the image that flashed into her mind—her breasts bound tight, swollen from the pressure of the ropes, ornamented with evil yet pretty weighted clips—her breath caught, and for a second, she lost track of what she was saying. “Edge,” she confessed.

  “And still not playing with your pussy?”

  A desperate whisper. “No, Master.”

  And an even more desperate one. “But I need to. Please…”

  Nick laughed, a rich, evil chuckle that Selene thought sounded a little strained. “You won’t come until I tell you to, slave. And I may not. But go ahead. Play with yourself. See how many fingers you can stuff into that hot, hungry cunt of yours.�
�

  Her hungry cunt. Yeah, that was what it was right now.

  “I’m not even going to bother with one, Master. I know I need more.” She slipped two fingers inside, feeling her inner muscles tighten, milking them. Tight but not full yet. Not what she knew she could take.

  She pulled them partway out, worked a third in with them. “Three, Master.”

  “Does that feel good? Does it fill you like my cock would?”

  What a question! “Feels wonderful…” She pumped in and out, feeling her juices slipping out, still kneading and pinching at her nipple with her other hand. “Not like your cock, but…” She opened her eyes, stared at the disorder surrounding her, let it distract her from the building wave of sensation. “Really, really good.”

  “Can you take more?”

  Could she? “Oh…my God. Yes! Four fingers. So full. And the angle is perfect. I’m getting my clit too and it’s…wow.”

  “More?”

  “Can’t, Master.” But damn, it felt good to try. Dirty and depraved and wonderful.

  “Imagine you’re in your cage, doing what you’re doing now. I come into the room, catch you at it. Watch for a bit, stroking my cock.”

  “How?” It was all she could do to get the word out. The room was fragrant with girl juices, and it no longer felt like pretending she was in a cage in her master’s luxurious tent. With her eyes closed, she was there.

  “Lightly, up and down the shaft. Not trying to come, just enjoying the sensation. Enjoying the greedy look on my slave girl’s face, knowing how much she wants the cock inside her.”

  Selene’s brain wasn’t functioning at peak, but that was a cue if she’d ever heard one. Besides, it fit in well with what was going through her mind, the only thing she could focus on. “Please, Master. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Let me come…please.”

  “Edge?”

  She nodded frantically, forgetting in her frenzy that he couldn’t actually see her. But he seemed to understand.

  “Not yet, slave. Present yourself to me for fucking.”

  She tried to think what she’d do, could form the mental image of herself on all fours, pressing back against the bars, positioning her pussy just right for him to penetrate her, but couldn’t get the words out. “I do.”

  Again, he seemed to understand her situation. “Good girl. Good slave. I get behind you, fit as much of my hands through the bars as I can so I can dig my fingernails into your ass. Can you feel that?”

  She used the tit-torturing hand to dig into her own butt instead, astonished how good it felt. Normally, if she’d tried to do that while masturbating, it would have been distracting. Under orders, though, it worked.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “And the cold bars against your skin?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “And my cock, driving into you, hard and fast?”

  “Yesss…” Her voice trailed off on a wail. “Edge.”

  “Keep going. Don’t stop. Think about me fucking your slave cunt. Because you’re mine.” The word came out as a roar, followed by rabid-animal sounds.

  Between the noise and the idea of Nick shooting off on himself and the idea of pirate-booted-master Nick shooting into her, Selene didn’t stand a chance.

  She had just about enough wits left not to scream her release directly into the phone, but she had no doubt he heard her incoherent stream of “NickNickOhMyGodNickcoming!”

  “Keep going,” he urged, his voice harsh. “You might as well enjoy yourself now. Come for me, Selene. Come all your greedy pussy wants to come.”

  She did, fucking herself, playing with her clit, arching up as if Nick lay over her and she was meeting his thrusts. Came until she was a limp noodle of a woman, drenched with sweat despite the humming air conditioner. All the while, she heard Nick murmuring encouragement.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The first coherent thing she said afterward was, “Oops.”

  “Oops what? Got the neighbors checking to see if you’re okay?”

  “Oops I wasn’t supposed to come until you said I could, and I started without permission.”

  Nick laughed. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Sometimes I like to set up challenges that I don’t expect you to win. If you do, you get rewarded. If you don’t, you get punished.” She could practically hear the quotes around punished. “But either way, it’ll be fun for both of us. It’ll give you something to look forward to, besides the toy shopping.”

  “Really?” Her rational mind had suspected as much when he’d set up the conditions in the first place, but her rational mind had gone pretty far away for a while and wasn’t fully back yet.

  “Really.” She could picture his lazy, post-orgasm smile. “Another secret, although you’ve probably figured this one out already: I love making you lose your mind like that. There are a lot of ways to dom someone, and some guys get off on rationing their sub’s orgasms. I can see that for a short time, like we did today.”

  An aftershock ran through her, and she shivered pleasurably. “It made me come extra hard when I finally let go.”

  “Point. But the whole chastity-belt thing isn’t for me. Very boring. I’ve always figured the best way to get control over a woman isn’t with deprivation and isn’t with pain—except the fun kind. It’s by melting her brain on a regular basis.”

  “Damn,” Selene breathed, boneless and content, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

  Later, after a needed potty break and a chance for Selene to deal with her laundry, Nick called her back. “How did you feel about the fantasy?”

  “The fifty-two orgasms and eardrum-shattering screams didn’t tell you?” She rubbed idly at her clit through her shorts, not exactly wanting to come again, not sure if she could, but enjoying the warm pleasure.

  “No.” Nick’s voice was serious. “That told me it was a hot fantasy, but is that what you want?”

  “To be a caged girl who licks boots? Once in a while as a game, sure, but not as a lifestyle. Living in a cage would be hell on your back after a while, and there’d be no room for my computer and all my books. And I think they’d frown on a domestic violence counselor living in a cage.” She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but if he was worried he’d scared her, she wanted to be clear that the answer was no. At least not in the sense he seemed to mean; she was still a little startled with how quickly she was taking to this, still overwhelmed by her response, the depth of her need.

  “Do you think you want to be a slave? Like Alison, more or less?”

  Oh my God, what was the right answer to that question?

  Her brain and her body had very different ideas.

  Honest answer, right answer—if he didn’t like the honest answer, they had a problem, and better to know it now than later. “I have no idea. The fantasy makes me wet. Always has, even before I had any idea what it meant. But I don’t know if I could really live that way.”

  “Neither do I,” Nick said softly.

  “Do you mean if I could or if you could?”

  His answer was, simply, “Yes.”

  That reply left her with a lot more questions than it answered, questions she wasn’t entirely sure how to put into words.

  There was a future implied here, one that she wasn’t ready to think about, one that she didn’t think Nick was ready to think about either. At least she hoped he wasn’t, because that would scare the hell out of her.

  Trying to change the subject, she asked, “Any luck tracking down Natalie?” She crossed her fingers as she said it, prayed there was news and it was good, that Natalie had just been out of touch for some commonplace reason.

  Instead, Nick sighed, the kind of heavy sigh she could imagine ruffling her hair even through the phone. “Yes and no,” he said. “Got a number and a post office box from her mom. She talked to her mother a few weeks ago, but I haven’t actually talked to her, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to. She’s not even talking to her mom regularly, and they’re pretty close. I think
her master’s screening her calls and telling her who to call back and when.”

  A panic alarm went off in Selene’s brain. All her counselor training screamed that this was bad.

  In the context of what she knew about Natalie, maybe she could downgrade it to suspicious and possibly bad. Natalie might find it comfortable and reassuring to have things be mostly her master and her, without any outside interference. But being cut off from her own mom?

  Not cool.

  There had to be some way to get through to her, find out what was really going on. “PO box? No street address?”

  “She’s so far out in the boonies that the PO box isn’t even in the town where she’s living.”

  “Give me the number,” Selene said. “I think I have an idea. Something that might get her to call back—and might intrigue her dom-master-whatever enough that he’d be okay with it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Her idea was vague, and she spent a long time rehearsing and thinking it through before she came up with the right words, and, more to the point, the right tone to say them in.

  A little nervous, a little humble, a little young and drunk on fantasies of the lifestyle, she decided, kind of like the barely-of-age girl from Kinksters, the one who called herself slave kat.

  “Hi, Natalie. My name’s Selene.” She tried to think lower case. “Master Nick…sorry, he said to call him Nick…suggested I get in touch with you about…uh, slave stuff. ’Cause Alison, she’s great and everything, but she keeps telling me to take stuff slow, and I know what I need, you know? Just need to figure out how to get there, and it sounds like you have.”

  There. Suck-up message left. If the guy she and Nick had started calling the Domly Dick was as arrogant as she suspected, he’d like that his slave was the go-to gal for newbies—especially if he was a Craig kind of guy who might like a crack at the newbies himself.