by Selena Kitt
“Status, love?”
“Rosy,” she moaned.
He came to her and undid the straps. “On your back!”
She shook her arms out, wincing. Carefully, she turned onto her back and placed her arms over her head for strapping from the end of the bench. He secured her and strapped her ankles to the base, thighs still spread. It was a bit uncomfortable, but experience assured her when her back relaxed, she’d become oblivious to it.
Sudden vibrations rolled across her g-spot. She bit her lip and tried to hide the orgasm, but her body didn’t cooperate. Shudders swept through her body followed by convulsions and uncontrollable moans.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She closed them so he wouldn’t see. Her damn shoulder wasn’t going to disrupt what he had in store for her. Darkness covered her eyes. She was thankful for blindfold.
A cold metal substance ran over her lips.
Chapter 5
What was it? What was he up to? Tentatively, Eryn stuck the tip of her tongue out and it was taken away. Her mind couldn’t think with the balls teasing her and the pain in her shoulder threatening her fun. A tugging on her shirt followed by the sounds of blades meeting said he used scissors. She smiled. Max was trying new things and the anticipation relaxed her. He moved the fabric and a breeze blew over the moisture covering her skin.
The tips of her breast were pinched…ah…nipple clamps. Seems Max did more than buy her the ankle bracelet.
“Status?”
“Rosy.” Despite the ache in her shoulder, the clamps held the nerve endings which had a direct line to her pussy. Blood pumped through her and she throbbed.
Aside from her heavy breathing all she heard was the pelting of the rain. She imagined the drops falling on her clit in succession before rolling down her hot slit. She squirmed.
It seemed hours passed while her body racked from torturous internal orgasms. Eryn could only breathe through them. She sensed he watched from a distance, knew the moment she uttered her pleasure, punishment came. Not allowing it was a different punishment. One she hoped got to him every bit as much. The thought of his cock spewing of its own accord caused her to choke on her laughter.
“Status!”
The voice came from across the room. It was thick with arousal. She bit down on her lip until she could speak. “Rosy.”
She wondered who would give in first. Her shoulder had gone numb, so only hunger for his cock plunging into her commandeered her focus. Inhaling and exhaling, she shook when the vibrations connected with her sweet spot once again.
Something cold, hard was moved up and down her slit before the tip was inserted. Max flipped a switch, because it began to vibrate against her. He held it there while she struggled to get to more of it inside her. Her lungs burned with every panting breath.
He took the vibrator away.
“Oh, fuck yeah!” spewed from her when he set the vibrating toy on her clit. Her breath caught on uncontrollable moans. In seconds, she was ready to come from the inside of her nub out.
He took it away.
“Oh, god, no.” She turned her head from side to side. It hurt, the release just under the surface.
“Silence!”
She blew out, panting. His hands came down along her breasts as she felt the tip of his cock jerk against her pussy and enter her. He bottomed out, stilled and ran his tongue over her lips. Her mouth opened, but he didn’t appease her need. “Please,” she whimpered.
He moved and her body screamed as she did. “Yes! Fuck me!”
Riding her hard, his motions moved her body up and down the bench as much as the restraints allowed. Pain seared through her shoulder and up her arm. She grabbed onto the strap over her hands and clenched her teeth. No way was she going to. use the safe word. No, no, no. She can handle the pain as long as he gave her pussy relief.
Max pulled out and lifted from her. He moved the blindfold. “Damn it!” He wiped at the tears she didn’t know fell. “Damn it, Eryn! What’s the point of a safe word, if you don’t use it?”
“No, don’t,” she protested, but he was too quick.
Anger replaced hot fiery need as he had her unstrapped in seconds then lowered the bench. She buried her hand in her pussy, furiously alternating thrusts and rubbing her clit. He massaged her arm before bringing it down to her side. Max yanked her hand from her groin.
“No. Please. I need this.” Ignoring her, he pulled her into a sitting position, retrieved keys from his pants and removed her slave jewelry. Tossing them in the nearby waste can, he stormed from the room.
“Max! I need fucked from here to next Sunday. I need you to take me down and rush me…” It was pointless to talk to someone who wasn’t listening.
She sat there rubbing her shoulder. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her thighs flexed when the balls shifted and vibrated. Oh, god, I need it so bad. Come back! Blowing out, she looked down at herself, wanting to get some relief, but if he returned and saw her masturbating, she’d risk angering him further.
Eryn let her gaze wander the room in hopes of bringing herself down below the threshold before she said to hell with it. When minutes went by and he hadn’t come back, she wasn’t sure what to do. Instinct led her to go find him, but part of her said he needed to blow off steam before he dealt with the situation? Wiping tears from her cheeks, she admitted to herself he was right. She had broken the rules.
With another exhale, she tried to rotate the shoulder. The stiffness had made it tight and it hurt. She sniffled and scooted to the edge of the bench and pushed the ben-wa balls from there nestled place when they sent another set of vibrations through her. With them in her hand, she padded to the bathroom and washed them up and left them to air dry on a hand towel while she showered.
After letting the hot shower loosen up her shoulder, she dressed before searching out Max. He wasn’t inside and when she opened the door to see if he was on the porch, the jeep was gone.
Chapter 6
Her heart leapt. Standing there, she stared down the lane while fresh tears filled her eyes. How could she have been so selfish? Grabbing a granny squared afghan from the couch, she pulled it around her shoulders and sat on the porch glider. The rain still came down in a gentle shower, and the smell of clean wet dirt reached her. Any other time, she’d bask in it, enjoying the smells of the wet woods.
She stretched her legs out across the seat and rested against the back, settling in to wait.
* * * *
“Oh, ow!” Eryn said, jerking awake at the sound of her name. Max kneeled before the swing.
He swung her legs around, forcing her to sit facing him. Pulling something from a bag at his side, he moved the blanket aside. “You’re going to wear this sling and let your shoulder heal,” he said as he put it on her. His voice was rough with anger. The trip into town did nothing to dissipate it.
Watching him make adjustments, she wanted to tell him she was sorry, but the words sounded lame in her head. Sorry wasn’t going to fix what she messed up. Trust was a major part of what they do and she’d lost his. Or at the very least, damaged it.
Finished, he stood with the bag in hand and went inside without a word.
Hurt and regretful, Eryn untangled the blanket from her legs to follow him inside. When she entered the cabin, Max stood at the fireplace, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I can’t believe you did this,” he said, facing her. “I’ve been beating myself up for letting you get hurt in the first place. It kills me to see you in pain. It kills me to see you stand there wearing a sling because I hurt you!”
“I’m sorry,” she said. The words weren’t enough, she knew that. Her reasons for enduring weren’t enough. She laid the afghan over the couch. “It was selfish.”
“Selfish, yes, but that’s only part of it.”
He turned back to the fire. There was nothing more she could say. Her heart weighed down her chest and she closed her eyes so as not to stare at the back of the man she’d betrayed.
“I called Doctor Swanson and he ordered a prescription of Naproxin and wants to see you Monday. It’s on the table.”
“Thank you.” She went to take the medication then gathered the cleaning products and returned to wash and disinfect the bench since they were through with it for the weekend. When she finished, she looked at him, wondering if she should pack up. She didn’t ask.
After putting the cleaning supplies away, she went to their room and laid down. Only then did she allow fresh tears to spill. Turning to her side, she pulled the pillow closer and inhaled his scent. All it did was fan the flames that never died. She buried her nose into it taking in more of him and let her hand slip up the leg of her shorts to rub her pussy. It responded with a release of juices she spread around before slipping into her slit. The tease wasn’t enough. Pushing the shorts down, she kicked them off and reached into the drawer for a dildo. She slipped it into her pussy and thrust with her own actions. It wasn’t enough. She needed more; she needed her husband. Eryn let the toy go and tapped her clit to bring it out from the hood. It didn’t take much and she was rubbing little circles around the nub.
Alternating back and forth, she groaned. The bed squeaked with her active thrusts. She panted and bit down on her lip. It was right there on the edge, but she couldn’t make herself tumble over. She stopped, shook her hand out and tweaked her nipples through the fabric.
The toy was pulled from her and she opened to see Max pulling his shirt over his head. He came down, slipping into her and covered her mouth with hers. Their tongues danced as they slapped against one another. She wrapped her legs around him and planted a hand against the headboard when he pulled his mouth free to ride her hard and fast, the way she wanted him too.
His head came down and he took a mouthful of her breast and bit into it. She shuddered. He bit harder. “Yes! Yes!” Her body gave way to convulsions and he bit the other breasts and emptied his balls into her.
Before she could begin to recover, he pried her legs off and slid down and laved her nub repeatedly then sucked it into his mouth. Her hips flew off the bed, legs flexed while her fingers tangled in his hair and held him to her groin. She felt him slip inside her easily. He pushed her leg up then out and realized he wasn’t just finger fucking her, he was buried to the wrist, maybe more. He let her clit go and watched her. She couldn’t watch him. The marvelous tightness, the sensations of fisting drug her down into euphoria. Inner muscles worked, tightening around him, letting go and gripping his arm. She grabbed her tit and pinched the tip as hard as she could and pulled. Her belly jerked. Milking her breast, she relished in the twitches as he brought her near another orgasm.
“Oh, baby,” she panted, her head helplessly moving side-to-side as he thrust in time with her rise and fall.
Max flicked her button and latched, toppling her over.
Lying there half asleep, he eased from her tunnel, but couldn’t move her leg to put it down.
A short while later, maybe, she wasn’t sure, he slipped alongside and pulled her close to him.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Tomorrow the jewelry goes back on.”
“And punishment?”
“Severe.”
She nuzzled his neck. “Thank you.”
About Bekki Lynn
Bekki loves writing contemporary sub-genres, seeing how this is the era she knows. How could she not, she’s lived in it for a long time. While her real life isn’t quite as lively or dramatic as the scenarios she writes, her stories tend to stem from bits of daily events and night terrors.
All Limits Respected
By Colin
When Steve had known her in college, her name had just been Julie—no “Mistress” or whatever other titles she claimed on her website. Back then she had plastic-framed glasses that, along with her height and an explosion of frizzy hair, made her look nerdish, or at least eccentric. The impression had been strengthened by penchant for certain books and movies, and countered by a husky, sexy voice. The first time Steve invited her to sleep with him, he had frankly thought of it as a mercy-fuck; he had been pleasantly surprised, when the sheets were turned down, to find the sexy part of her had won out.
But he wasn’t sure which part of her was winning just now; she stood just out of sight behind the half-open door of her townhouse, a looming, unreadable presence. He pushed at the door, expecting her to reveal herself. She pushed back, so firmly that Steve was forced a step or two backwards.
“You read my e-mail?”
“Well, sure, yeah, but…” Steve frowned, then tried to smile reassuringly. As he remembered the email in question, the smile grew wider. “You weren’t serious with all that?”
“I was. As a heart-attack, my dear. Remember, you’re the one who proposed this meeting, with full knowledge of who and what I am now. Do I show up at your home and try to undermine your identity?”
Steve decided to play it silent. Julie returned the favor.
“Sorry,” he said finally. He wouldn’t have classified Julie as someone he knew well, but their time together as lovers had acquainted him with her quirks, which definitely included stubbornness. This behavior was in no way strange or un-Julie; very much the contrary. He was faced with the choice of either walking away or playing the game on her terms. He had never much liked being ordered around, but he was intrigued. Her voice was as sexy as ever, and he found himself remembering specific evenings with her; the way she sucked cock, for instance. Those memories went surprisingly well with this new show of assertiveness (dominance, she would no doubt have called it), and he found himself wanting to see more—or at least as much as she was willing to show him.
“I should have read the email more carefully,” he went on. He was prepared to continue, but Julie cut him off.
“Yes, you should have. I’ll overlook it, but be careful, Steve. I’m very pleased to see you, but I’m a different person now. “
“Yeah, well, I’m a different person too.”
“I’m certain you are. I would have assumed nothing less.”
She stepped away from the door, but the room behind her was lit only by a flicker of candlelight and Steve, just out of the afternoon sun, could still make nothing of her but a general impression of height, as well as a spicy perfume, pleasant but a little too strong.
“Well?”
Steve bridled. “Well what?” he shot back, irritated because he had not been offered a hug or a drink.
Julie sighed. “I’ll indulge you one last time, Steve. You said you read my email. If so, you know what you have to do.”
Smiling tightly, he kicked off his shoes, began wrenching open, one by one, the buttons of his shirt.
“And you want me completely naked, right?”
She didn’t answer; Steve knew very well that this was because the e-mail had specified complete nakedness; Julie wasn’t going to dignify his question with comment. He had, as she had noted, spent his last indulgence. But he knew what was going to be required of him next, assuming they continued with this ridiculous script, and he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it.
Nevertheless, when his skin was entirely bare and rough with gooseflesh, he did in fact go on his knees to her. He did it readily, with a smoothness that took him aback a little. Julie’s hand, soft and long-fingered, pungent with that strange perfume, reached down and caressed his cheek. As though that had somehow granted him permission (he suspected that was the impression she intended him to have), he looked up at her.
He could see her clearly now. He hadn’t been sure what to expect; something involving a lot of black leather, presumably, with little silvery chains and zippers. Instead, Julie—Mistress Domino, as her website now named her—was barefoot in black slacks and an open-throated white blouse. The explosive hair had been tamed and lay sleek and night-colored on her shoulders. Her skin was darker than he remembered, her cheekbones higher, her large eyes every bit as solemn as he remembered.
“You look great,” he said, meaning
it.
She hesitated half a second, the tips of her nails pressing into the soft skin under his chin. “Thank you,” she said, pleasantly, but with a casualness that piqued him oddly. He felt like an infatuated child who spent weeks planning and rehearsing a compliment on how pretty Teacher is, then is crushed by a less than effusive response. He didn’t much like the feeling.
“What now?” he asked.
“You might kiss my foot, for a start.” He heard a soft noise as her foot was pushed forward on the carpet.
He felt his lip curling. “You’re kidding me.”
“I promise you I’m not. You don’t have to, of course. I can’t and won’t force you. But the other option is for you to put your clothes on and leave. I won’t see you again, either. “
Steve said nothing, merely continued gazing up at her. He’d be damned if he was going to kiss her foot.
“Alright, then. Don’t. But this,” she added, after a brief silence, “is one more, one final indulgence. I don’t often contradict myself, and I promise you I won’t do it a third time.”
“Why? Why are you doing all this? I’m not here for a session, or play-party, or whatever you people call it. I’m not one of your little pussy slave-boys.”
“If you say so. I notice you still haven’t gotten up off your knees, indignant as you sound.”
He smiled a little at that. “Touche.”
“Go into the receiving-room and make me a drink. A small brandy. You may have a glass of white wine. I’ll be in momentarily; I just have something to attend to.”
Steve got to his feet and strode past her, into the darkened room behind her. He saw no whips on the walls or framed portraits of evil-looking women. Instead, he found comfortable chairs and coffee table containing a cut-glass decanter of brandy, two opened bottles of white and red wine and glasses. He was tempted to the small rebellion of pouring himself red instead of the specified white wine, but knew it would only make him feel childish. He even poured Julie her brandy first.