by Jordan Bell
Then he bent me forward across the padded sawhorse that fit beneath my chest. He hooked my wrists around a wooden peg directly in front of me so that I created a straight line from fingertips to tailbone, then a straight line from tailbone to toes.
“You remember your safeword?” Marcus murmured. He touched his mouth with his hand. I realized in this position I had no option but to watch Marcus watching this happen to me. I didn’t want to see his pleasure and satisfaction. Didn’t want him to see mine.
When I didn’t answer him, a hand came down across my ass and drove the beads into my soft flesh, with such strength I lurched forward and opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out.
“That means answer me,” Marcus hissed, the first shred of emotion other than blank curiosity I’d seen since we started.
“Yes,” I gasped when I found my voice, though it came out as only a little more than a wheezing breath. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good. You might needed.” He nodded his approval to Conrad who must have been standing behind me. Marcus leaned back in his chair, hand by his mouth, erection so obvious it was obscene. I closed my eyes.
The big man lumbered up behind me, swatted the sides of my bottom again, but not hard, still it drove the beads into my flesh where I was sure they’d be bruised before the end of the night. When he pushed his jeans into the barely covered cleft between legs, a shudder of foreboding passed through me. If the bulge in his jeans was to be believed, his penis was as big as the rest of him. I buried my face between my outstretched elbows so Marcus wouldn’t see the trepedition there.
Conrad ground his erection into my body, let me know just what he thought of me and something about that realization made me moan softly into the leather bench I was spread out across. He didn’t know me like Marcus and Sean, only knew my body, my place here, and I had turned him on. Me. Me and my big hips and big thighs and large breasts. That knowledge made me do something shameless - I pushed back against him.
This surprised the big Dom and he let out a hiss of breath, the first sound he’d made since I walked in. For some reason this pleased me more than it should and I did it again. He came down over me then, placed one fist on the bench beside my head, the other wrapped across my mouth. My nostrils flared as he pulled my head back from where I hid my face and he buried his mouth against the crook of my neck. The scratch of his leather mask scrubbed across my cheek, but it didn’t slow his mouth from exploring my throat and shoulder, the nape of my neck. He nipped and bit me, licked and kissed me, all the while he humped his erection into my cleft, ground my thin panties between my lips and imprinted the beads into my plump flesh.
I closed my eyes and got lost in the sensation of this hard stranger showing me a tiny amount of affection, even if it was tempered with sharp bites and sucks that brought blood harshly to the surface of my skin. Not the hickies of clumsy teenagers. These were meant to mark.
There was something more erotic about him grinding into me even though clothes separated our bodies than if he’d stripped me down and entered me. This went on for many minutes, him humping me and me rounding into him until I thought I was going to come from the friction and the eroticism of his desperate want. I’d never felt anything like it.
“That’s enough, get on with it.” Marcus looked annoyed. Good.
Conrad bit down on my shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough to leave marks and I could feel him looking at Marcus as he defied him. The hand not around my mouth flexed and sunk between us to rub the fabric over my lips, over my swollen clit. He rocked his fat finger back and forth while I lost comprehension. My eyes rolled back and he might have been thrusting inside me for as amazing as it felt. When I was trembling, ready to come, he abruptly released me and stepped back.
Denied, I collapsed against the bench and gasped for breath, let me body shake from its near fulfillment. Behind me I could hear the man panting, could almost feel his heart racing. I’d done that.
Me. The submissive controlling the master. The truth of our power exchange.
“The whip? No, I have a better idea.” My eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice and the word whip, which we’d only played with once and I didn’t like. Instead Marcus unfastened his leather belt, pulled it free as he watched me, and handed it to Conrad, who was still breathing hard from nearly taking me moments before, less than ten minutes after we’d walked through the door. “She likes this.”
She likes this.
“What?” I whispered. “No…”
Conrad must have been annoyed at my ability to manipulate him, because he didn’t waste any time. Once he had my instrument of punishment he sunk his meaty fingers between my underwear and skin and roughly tore them from my body. Beads rained down across the wooden floor, scattering in every direction. The sound of the tinkling glass as they rained down was the most violent sound in the world.
Then he was taking the leather to my bottom without warm up. The strikes weren’t easy. Marcus usually primed me with the flogger first before graduating to the real painful toys, but Conrad didn’t bother. I yelped each time he brought the coiled leather down across my skin, blood flushing my cheeks. The straps of heat where they fell set my body on fire and the orgasm he’d nearly brought before started building again. I did like this, but I hated admitting it. I cried out no and stop pitifully, but neither did he slow or stop. Marcus grinned slowly as he watched me shudder and jerk, roll my hips and try to get away from the strikes, to no avail.
“Safeword, pet, and it’ll all stop.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “But we both know you don’t want it to stop.”
I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see my shame and my lust as I took the blows. The heat, now turning to pain, then pleasure, now pain, then pleasure erupted with each new mark the leather left across my skin. I squeezed my eyes, begged him to stop, but I didn’t safeword and we knew my words were meaningless. They were meant to help me get control of my feelings, but not to make them go away. My ineffectual way of holding control these men were going to take from me, one way or the other.
The next strike didn’t come and Conrad dropped the belt on the floor. He moved away and took his body heat with him. I heard him open a drawer, select a toy, and return to me. I was shocked by how much I missed his body heat and needed it against my body.
Conrad pushed his hand between my legs and lowered it between my buttocks downdowndown into the humid triangle where my shame became manifest, sticky, sopping. His thumb stayed circling near my anus while his fingers sank all four into the wet folds. He molested my sex plainly, cravenly, kneading and pushing with no elegance or finesse.
He kept it up until my hips responded of their own accord and pushed into his hands, eager to get off, and I let out a gasping sob into the crook of my arm because god, oh god I wanted to come. I wanted this stranger, this master, to make me come all over his hand.
And then…then a very different voice filled my ears. A laughing, sweet voice. I think not normal is pretty normal.
The big thumb, lubricated from between my legs, pressed a half inch into my forbidden hole, skewered me in his large hand in both places and I came bucking against him, crying out, biting the leather, grinding my breasts into the bench frantically. The pleasure paralyzed me, jolt after electric jolt from my sex to my eyes and everywhere in between. The climax sent me up onto my toes, wanton, shameless, blissed out on pleasure like a drug and I just kept going and he showed no signs of stopping.
And while the waves of ecstasy crested through my body, he brought the riding crop down across my bottom and I shaking all over, howling without time to recover. He slid his fingers out of me and assaulted my clit encouraged luxioursly before striking me again with that horrible torture. Smack! Smack! Red lines I could feel across the back of my eyes forming across my skin.
In minutes I was collapsing and he was holding me up, playing with my clit, fondling me roughly, brazenly, whipping me as if he were riding me to
some secret end. I came screaming like a wild thing minutes later, and when my body started convulsing, my second orgasm, he whipped me four times in a row, hard and fast without time to recover, and I collapsed my knees to the lower bench, unable to stand, hanging from the post my hands were bound to.
11
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“Shit. I’ll be right back.” Marcus stood suddenly, his body rigid, the businessman back in charge. He didn’t look at me and I could barely peel my eyes open to see him. He strode across the room and disappeared through the door near the dark window. When the door closed and I was left alone with Conrad, he closed in on me.
He unhooked my hands and scooped me up off the floor. He didn’t have an problem with my size or weight and carried me spent and throbbing across the room to the bed. He laid me on my back near the bottom the of the bed and I gazed up into the sunburst of fabric over the four poster bed. There was a small chandelier hanging inside the canopy.
Conrad unzipped his jeans, but didn’t drop them. I didn’t watch. I heard the rip of a condom wrapper and the sound of it being unrolled. He lifted my ankles, my feet strangely pretty in his big hands. He held them together in one hand and pushed them over my head, bent me so that my ass was pointed up into the air. He climbed onto the bed. I stared up into sunburst until he started entering me, and then I had to close my eyes as he stretched me wider than I’d ever accommodated, both of us panting with the effort.
It was strange listening to his breathing, his gasping, soft moans coming from behind the mask. He’d been so rough and hard and now he wasn’t at all. He held my legs bent over my chest, my body rolled uncomfortably, my hands still bound, but he entered me gently. I heard the door open and close. Neither of us looked. My temporary Master began driving himself in and out of me, each thrust deep and penetrating. He huffed with effort, worked and worked until he had a good hard rhythm going.
He didn’t last long at all. Too much for him leading up to this moment. He closed his eyes behind the mask, picked up the pace, and draped my ankles over his shoulders. He crouched over me, hunched down, and bore into me until he was breathing between gritted teeth. He suddenly jerked sank into me until he made me scream, and came grunting like an animal, bucking in short, shallow bursts before burying himself fully and finishing off.
He climbed off quickly, heard him swear a little, then unroll the condom and toss it into a waste basket. He zipped his jeans, buttoned them, and return to my side. His weight dented the bed as he curled my legs to the side, rolled me so that my back was to the door. I couldn’t believe how tired I was, how grateful for him to put me into a comfortable, curled up position. Like a cat. I hugged my knees and closed my eyes. Before he left me, his fingers hesitated against my cheek, the softest brush, and then he was gone.
“Leave us.”
Something in my chest stirred but I didn’t open my eyes. The door shut and Marcus came up to the bed, sat down where Conrad had been a moment before. Fingers brushed my hair back, pieces that had come loose from the braid. I smiled and opened my eyes.
Not Marcus.
Sean.
No.
Oh. No.
I struggled, suddenly afraid to have him see me like this, but he took my bound wrist in one hand and touched a finger to my lips.
“Quiet, now. None of that.” He glanced around the room before turning his blue eyes back to mine. “If I’d known you’d enjoy coming here…well. I would have brought him the first night.”
“I can explain.” I whispered but he shook his head.
“Don’t bother. I don’t care.”
He did care. At least, he didn’t look like he didn’t care. His expression was unreadable, buried deeper than I’d ever see him bury his emotions. That couldn’t be good. He didn’t look right into my eyes, he just looked at my body, explored the marks with his eyes and his fingers. He looked at my ass, scraped his fingers where I’d been whipped and I cringed.
“Look at you.” It wasn’t a tone of awe or love. It was something else. Something I didn’t like.
He stood up and took hold of the lead rope on my wrists. He tugged and I struggled to follow him off the bed, but my whole body was weak and exhausted and I could barely keep up as he lead me across the room to a pillow next to the wall.
“Kneel.”
“Sean,” I whispered as I sank to my knees. I wanted my hands to not be bound so I could grab him, hold him. “I can explain. There’s a reason…”
“Enough. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He ran his fingers across my temple, into my hair, and then grabbed the rope braid and forced my head back. “I told you I wouldn’t share.”
“I didn’t…I wouldn’t…”
He exhaled and tightened his hold on my “leash”. With his other hand he unzipped his pants, lowered the waistband of his boxers so that his cock, thick and rigid fell pointing at my face. A threat. A promise.
“Open your mouth, Kara. Obey me.”
I trembled as I obeyed, parted my lips so he could feed the head between my lips. I closed around his member, my eyes not leaving his.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” he continued, his hand on my braid controlling my head as he worked an inch at a time into my mouth. “You’ve betrayed me, Kara. I didn’t believe it when I got a message to come here, to find you betraying me. I was waiting on the other side of that window, watching the whole time. Watching as you let a stranger strip you, rough you over, whip you, tease you, kiss you, fuck you. I should have walked out, but…” He exhaled, placed his palm against the wall behind me to balance. He closed his eyes and pushed his cock deep into my mouth, worked it back out and back in across the flat of my tongue.
“Touch yourself, Kara.” He growled softly, hunched himself over me. He opened his blue eyes and stared down at me. “Touch yourself, little whore.”
I obeyed, shaking, the way he said whore missing its usual adoration and affection. I didn’t know how I could possibly pleasure myself knowing he knew my darkest betrayal, knowing he’d probably leave me for good. I touched myself not because I wanted pleasure, but because he told me to. Because I wanted to obey him even if it was a command he was using to humiliate me.
With my wrists bound it was hard to get my fingers to my clit, but I touched it, slippery with my betrayal. I stroked the little bud as he stroked his shaft in and out of my mouth. I did nothing I normally would with him in my mouth, because I didn’t think that’s what he wanted. He wanted to punish me for my betrayal by taking my mouth and getting his pleasure on his own. He wanted to use me like a toy.
“You,” he panted. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’d never seen you release like that, let someone control you so thoroughly. You’ve never given yourself to me. I doubt you’ve ever given yourself to anyone like that. I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
The ache around my heart lessoned some and I moaned against his cock. He shuddered and picked up the pace. His hand in my hair held my head still so I couldn’t move, so that he was doing all the work, his hips bucking and pumping into me. I licked and sucked as he pushed, and twice he sank balls deep, deep throating me until I couldn’t breathe, until I gagged, just because he could. Because I deserved it.
“Kara,” he grunted. “Come for me, come while I fuck your mouth, little whore. Be the dirty girl I now know you are.” He moaned, closed his eyes and I felt his balls tighten up, his shaft pulse against my lips. He was going to come and soon.
I rubbed my clit furiously, closed my eyes and rose up and down in little bursts onto my own fingers. He peeled his eyes open to watch, a slight smile curving the corners of his mouth. Somehow I had enough in me for a tiny explosion, a brief but intense thing that spread from my fingers out across my body. I shuddered and shook and a moment later he bore down, gripped my hair painfully. He fell forward, his cock sunk into my throat, and held me as he emptied his come into my mouth. He continued coming for a long time, grunting and choking on my
name until there was nothing left in him. Until he was shaking with the effort of standing.
Sean buttoned himself up and sank to his knees. He methodically untied my wrist and grazed the rope marks with a kind of sad longing. I wanted to kiss his mouth and brush away his doubts. I wanted him to know I loved him more than anything.
He captured my face in his hands and kissed me quite suddenly, a hungry, but shallow kiss. He kissed my face, my eyes, my cheeks, my mouth again and he held me like that for many minutes.
When he pulled back, I knew something was different.
“We’re even now,” he whispered as he dropped his forehead to mine. “One betrayal for another. We’re even.”
“Sean…” He kissed my mouth gently, trapping my voice. Tears inexplicably welled in my eyes, fear, sadness, maybe sub-drop. A lack of control over emotions that overtook a sub after a very intense scene and something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
He disengaged and the tears spilled down my cheeks as he pulled away. His blue eyes had never looked so far away to me. “Don’t speak. We’re even now, but I don’t ever want to see you again, Kara.” He swallowed and pulled his hands away. My heart, whatever was left of it, lit up in flames.
“I don’t ever want to see you again,” he repeated as he stood up. He hovered over me as I lost the strength to remain kneeling upright. I rolled down to bury my face in my hands, child pose, and sobbed softly so he wouldn’t have to watch my heart breaking.
He walked away, back to the door with the window.
“Make sure she gets home safely. If anything happens to her I’ll kill you myself.”