Chameleon

by Ashe Barker

  Fleur continued to control the action for several more minutes, rewarded by Ethan’s guttural moans and occasional murmurs of “Holy fuck” and “Christ, yes.” As she tired and slowed, he took over.

  “Let me, love.” He now held her head still whilst he used his hips to thrust his cock into her mouth, the strokes fast, though not deep. She knew he was being careful not to penetrate any farther than she had already shown him was acceptable, manageable, and she appreciated his consideration. At first. She wondered, though, was sure that had she still been directing events she would by now be taking him deeper. She raised her eyes to his, the request there, though she could not express it. Ethan saw and understood.

  “More?”

  Fleur gave a slight nod, then closed her eyes as Ethan picked up the pace, lengthening his strokes as she had requested. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and she fought back the urge to gag at the unfamiliar intrusion. She managed to suppress her natural reflex and accepted his firm thrusts, loving the savory tang of his pre-cum as it slid down her throat.

  Then, almost without warning, he was there, about to come. Fleur felt the tightening in his balls as she caressed them, closing her fingers around the solid roundness. Gripping her head tightly, his hold almost brutal, he delivered the final, deep thrusts. Then he stilled, his cock quivering at the back of her throat and Fleur’s mouth immediately full of warm, tangy semen. It was slick, smooth, easy to swallow. She cleared it quickly and breathed hard through her nose, but could still feel some escape and dribble slowly down her chin. She could have wiped it away with her hand but chose not to, instead concentrating on gripping and pumping his thick shaft. Instinctively, she hollowed her cheeks to suck hard on his cock, rubbing the flat of her tongue along the underside of the head to lap away the last few droplets. She swallowed those and lifted her eyes again to meet his.

  Ethan relaxed his grip on her head and eased her back from him. His cock slid out. He took a piece of the fabric of her cloak and lifted it, meticulously wiping her chin. Then he smiled at her, his devastating ninety-watt smile that would crumble her knees if she were not already on them. Fleur smiled back, her gaze perhaps slightly watery as the emotion of the moment seized her. She felt utterly used and completely elated. In a sudden flash of self-awareness, she knew that his was what she was born for.

  Ethan? Yes, perhaps they might have been together, in another life. If he and she were different people in another place.

  But this, certainly.

  “Are you done calling the shots, little sub?”

  Fleur kept her eyes lowered but her voice was strong and clear. “Yes, Sir.” For now.

  “Stand up, then. Slip the cloak back from your shoulders and show me your breasts.”

  Fleur did as he instructed, allowing the fabric to slide from her shoulders and down her back, using her hands to gather the cloak in front of her stomach. She was nude from the waist up and stood absolutely still as Ethan perused her breasts carefully. Despite his obvious appreciation of her body in all their previous encounters, this seemed different to her, more detached somehow. She hoped for some generous comment, some signal of approval.

  “Very pretty, but of course you know that. Do you have sensitive nipples, Fleur?”

  That might pass for approval, more or less.

  “I believe so, Sir.” She was uncertain whether she should raise her gaze to his as they spoke. He had instructed her not to do so unless specifically given permission, so she opted for caution now and continued to stare at the floor.

  “Then you’ll love what comes next. Or maybe not. We’ll see. I intend to clamp them. You will squeal for me.”

  If he thought this was so, she was not inclined to disagree. Further, she was inclined to wonder how he thought to achieve this feat. Ethan might be a natural optimist—she had no reason to doubt it—but nevertheless it seemed unlikely that he would have brought nipple clamps with him on a business trip to Morocco. And as far as she knew, no such items had been added to the merchandise available for purchase in the Totally Five Star souk, that wing of the hotel that catered for all shopping requirements in traditional local style. If sexual fetish accoutrements had suddenly appeared on any of the traders’ stalls she was sure someone would have alerted her, in a professional capacity, if for no other reason.

  Ethan interrupted her puzzled musings, apparently not requiring any further comment from her just at this precise moment. “You will remain quite still until I tell you otherwise. You can make sounds if you want to. I’m sure you will, in fact. But if you move, I will spank you. Then we start all over again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. I’ll want your cunt later, but for now, can you fasten the cloak at your waist and place your hands in the small of your back, please?”

  Fleur did as he asked, repositioning her hands as directed. At last, she took the risk of lifting her gaze. He met her eyes and made no comment.

  “Clasp your fingers around your wrists.” He paused for a few moments to allow her to do that. “I’m going to want you to maintain that position. I’m happy to leave it to you, but if you think you might struggle, I could tie your hands in place. Some inexperienced subs prefer that—it keeps them from incurring too many punishments as they’re learning. I’ve told you what the consequences will be if you move. So, which would you prefer? I’m going to hurt you. It won’t be unbearable but it will be tough. You will struggle. But I can help you if you want me to.”

  Fleur took just a moment to decide. “Tie my hands please, Sir.” There was a time for bravado and this was not it. She had no wish to find herself on the receiving end of a punishment spanking if she could avoid that. Ethan was offering her a reasonable certainty of success, provided she managed not to scream her safe word at him. She was fairly sure she would not be doing that.

  He nodded and strode away, back into the cool interior of the riad. He returned moments later with one of the cashmere scarves he had purchased from the souk. He stopped behind Fleur and looped the scarf around her wrists a couple of times. He tied it off and slipped two fingers underneath.

  “Wiggle your fingers, please.”

  She did.

  “Fine, seems good. I’ll be checking but if that starts to hurt, you tell me—or if your hands feel numb.”

  Seemingly satisfied, he returned to stand in front of her, his attention now fixed on her nipples. Fleur tugged against the scarf binding her wrists, not that she wanted or expected to be able to get free, but instinctively she felt compelled to check. The bonds were secure, comfortable, but no movement was possible. Fleur’s pussy moistened, her arousal heightened by the sense of helplessness induced by being tied. She knew Ethan would release her in a moment if she asked him to, but being bound and held in place made her imminent submission so much more real. Her head started to shift between the sense that this was a game, that they were just playing, and the chilling reality of being tied, half naked, and utterly vulnerable.

  She was sure her nipples must be peaking decadently, but she could not tear her gaze from his face to check. Neither could she suppress a shiver as he reached for her right breast, cupping it in his hand, as though testing the weight. He rubbed his thumb across the nipple, raising his eyes to meet her gaze.

  “So hard already, and pink. Like a pebble. Still, I think we can do better.”

  His gaze dipped again, and this time Fleur’s followed. She watched curiously, as he took her swollen peak between his finger and thumb and squeezed, tugging slightly. The pressure was light, and despite her apprehension, the sensation one of pleasure. He increased his grip, pressing the hardened nub between his fingers. Fleur instantly found herself hurtling into that place where pain and pleasure mingle before pain suddenly wins out. She jerked and stepped backwards.

  Ethan released her immediately, his gaze flashing back to hers. Now his eyes were cool, stern, clearly unimpressed.

  “Were my instructions in any way unclear? I told you
to remain still.”

  “It… You hurt me.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His tone was curt and hard enough to crack rocks. Fleur did not think he had used such a timbre with her previously and found that she did not like it one bit. Her insides seemed to shrivel at the displeasure she detected in his voice. She could not believe she had failed so completely and so soon.

  “I am sorry, Sir. Please, may I try again? I can do it, now that I know what to expect.”

  Ethan nodded once, his features still a harsh mask. “Very well. But I won’t continue if you struggle or try to fight me, or try to escape. You have no need to resist. This is not about me forcing you to endure something you hate. You do it, if you do it, by your own choice. If it’s too much, if you don’t want this after all, just say your safe word and we’re done. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir, I am sorry. I do understand.”

  Fleur had backed away from him as he spoke. Now he lifted his hand to beckon her to stand right in front of him, resuming her previous position. Fleur obeyed immediately. Ethan held her gaze as he took her nipple between his fingers again, this time pressing and twisting hard. Pain radiated out from the tortured nub. Fleur gasped, pressing her lips together to keep from crying out. He could not have failed to see her struggle but Ethan was merciless, ratcheting up the pressure until she could no longer contain her squeal of pain.

  “That should do, I think.” He held her nipple tightly between his finger and thumb, but didn’t squeeze any harder. Fleur panted, trying to breathe through the discomfort, and managing, just about.

  Ethan slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a length of ribbon. The color caught her eye, a deep rich blue. The narrow strip was perhaps a quarter of an inch wide, woven from a shiny satin. Irrelevantly, Fleur noted that he might well have acquired this toy at the hotel bazaar after all. Ethan draped it across Fleur’s erect and swollen bud, wrapping it tightly around several times. The delicate strand did not look like an instrument of pain, but its innocuous appearance belied its performance. As Ethan pulled it tight around the distended nub, Fleur let out a sharp cry. The pain proved intense. Her knees began to buckle as Ethan tied the ribbon off in a small bow. He swung an arm around her waist quickly to steady her.

  “Are you okay?” His tone was low now as he pulled her close to his own body, holding her up until she was able to support her own weight once more.

  Fleur was glad of his help, and after a few seconds, she nodded.

  “I am. Thank you for your assistance, Sir. It was just a bit of a surprise at first. I did not expect a ribbon to be so…compelling.”

  “I told you yesterday, Fleur, the tools of BDSM can be very simple. A scarf, a length of ribbon. A few ice cubes.”

  Fleur glanced up sharply. “Ice cubes?”

  He lifted one eyebrow but said nothing further as he drew a second length of blue ribbon from his pocket. This he draped across her left shoulder as he reached for her remaining nipple and started to apply the same pressure he had to the first. Fleur gritted her teeth and managed not to cry out until the last moment, as he started to wrap the ribbon around the swollen, pebbled nub. He pulled the length of tape tight, his gaze holding Fleur’s. At last, apparently satisfied, he tied the ends into another small bow and stood back to admire his work.

  “Blue suits you.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She managed to force the words past her gritted teeth, wondering if her legs might be about to collapse under her.

  “Stand still and straight. You can do this, Fleur. You want to do this. Don’t you? Look at me and tell me.” His tone was firm, unyielding, his words carefully chosen and effective.

  She did want this, and his sharp, uncompromising reminder of that fact was sufficient to stiffen her resolve, not to mention her knees. “Yes, of course, Sir.” She stood before him, raised her eyes to meet and hold his gaze. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re very welcome, Fleur. Are you hot?”

  The question came seemingly from nowhere. Fleur blinked in confusion. “Hot, Sir?”

  “I promised you ice. I think here would be a good place for it, don’t you?” He lifted his hand to flick her tightly bound right nipple, stroking the pad of his thumb over the deep pink portion protruding beyond the ribbon.

  “Oh, Sir…” Fleur swayed toward him, despite her determination not to falter. The caress had felt intense, almost painful, but not exactly that. His touch was more tormenting than hurting.

  “Mmm. I think so.” He turned to pick up his glass of iced water, shaking the cubes against the wine flute. Fleur recalled the clinking sound she had heard as he arrived, but surely that was so long ago now, and in the warmth of the night, the ice would have melted.

  Not so. He held the glass before her face and she saw the cubes still very much intact. There were a couple of inches of chilled water too, but plenty of solid ice left. In any case, there was an icebox full of ice cubes in the minibar fridge, should his supplies run low.

  “Here, take a sip.” He held the glass to her lips, tilting it so that she could drink some of the cool water. It trickled down her throat.

  “Thank you, Sir.” She genuinely appreciated the refreshment, had not realized how thirsty she was. With just a lift of one eyebrow, he offered her more. She accepted, conscious of the ice cubes nudging her lips as she drank.

  “Enough?”

  Fleur nodded, watching him apprehensively.

  Ethan’s grin became sardonic now. He glanced at the water feature in the middle of the courtyard and gestured Fleur toward it. Specifically, he led her to the rear of it where the surrounding wall was higher, almost chest height for Fleur. Ethan placed his palms on either side of her waist and lifted her easily onto the wall, bringing her bound nipples more or less level with his mouth. Looking down at him from her lofty but exposed position, Fleur appreciated instantly what he intended to do next.

  As she watched, he tipped the glass to his own mouth, taking an ice cube between his lips. He sucked on it briefly, rolling it around his mouth before gripping it in his teeth. His eyes were not on hers, though. He was intent on her right nipple, now throbbing painfully under the satin ribbon imprisoning it. He leaned in and Fleur braced herself, expecting to feel the cruel, frosty bite of the ice cube against her skin. She did not, though. Instead, he seemed to slide the ice cube into the side of his mouth and instead drew his chilled tongue over the sore nub.

  It felt—wonderful. Soothing yet revitalizing at the same time. The pain created by the tight ribbons added to the sensation, gave it an edge, a delightful yet wicked frisson she could never have imagined. Overwhelmed momentarily, she leaned forward to lay her cheek briefly against the top of his head.

  Ethan straightened, his smile soft. “So, not so bad as you imagined, little sub?”

  “No, Sir, not at all bad.” She lowered her eyelids, leaning back slightly to raise her breasts for his attention. “This is beautiful, it feels so good. I thought, hoped perhaps, but…”

  “We continue then?”

  “Yes, please, Sir.”

  Ethan repeated the treatment for her left nipple, sensuously soothing away the discomfort of the binding. Fleur sighed as his tongue caressed her distended tip, loving this more with each stroke, this bittersweet mix of pleasure and pain, the two sensations inextricably tangled together.

  Ethan switched his attentions back to the other side, and this time he did apply the ice direct to her skin. Fleur shivered but continued to press her breast toward his mouth, offering, begging.

  At the same time, she became aware of a cool sensation on her naked back, and realized that this was the spray from the fountain behind her. Ethan edged her a little closer to it. Fleur rolled her shoulders, conscious that her body was stiffening now, her hands still bound awkwardly. She considered asking him to release her, but soon forgot as another wave of delicate, erotic sensation washed through her. Ethan had taken an ice cube in his
right hand and was now applying that to one nipple whilst he continued to tease the other with the ice in his mouth, lightly swirling the hard, glinting cubes over her delicate peaks.

  He paused for a moment to glance up at her. “Tell me what you’re thinking now, Fleur.”

  “I am thinking, I am… I do not believe I am thinking, Sir.”

  Ethan’s low chuckle was sexy. “Wise girl. Thinking can be overrated. Sometimes it’s better just to feel. Tell me what you’re feeling, then.”

  “I feel that I want to orgasm. May I, please?”

  “You may.”

  Moments later, Fleur did. She was grateful for Ethan’s restraining arm that prevented her from toppling backwards into the cool water rippling behind her as her motor control failed in the throes of a long, slow, undulating orgasm. Her climax seemed to roll back and forth through her sensitized nervous system, lazily picking her up and rocking her before gently depositing her back on earth. Ethan lifted her from the wall and turned her so that she leaned against him, her back to his chest. She writhed in his arms, oblivious now to his earlier command that she remain still. He did not remind her of it. She moaned, the sound low and formed deep in her throat as he pressed the ice cubes to her quivering peaks to draw every last tingle from her.

  Ethan lowered them both to the floor as Fleur’s legs eventually gave up the struggle to remain upright. At last, she lay still in his arms. Ethan tossed the remaining piece of ice into the ornamental pool with a soft splash and reached down to release her wrists. He pulled them in front of her, gently rubbing them to ease out the stiffness.

  “You liked that?”

  “I did, Sir. Very much. I had no idea…”

  “So now that you do, now that you know how good that felt against your nipples, shall we try something else?”

  “I… Yes, I think I would like that.” Fleur suspected she might have an inkling what he had in mind.