“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Go to room three. Undress, and get on the table for me. Don’t put your legs in the stirrups just yet. I’ll be with you in five minutes. I’m going to let the floor monitor know we’re headed into the room.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Go now.”
I didn’t need much more direction than that. I hadn’t been in room three before. It was one of the theme rooms. I began to feel a little jittery as I finally made it off the main floor and politely knocked on the door, even though I knew it was vacant, before I slipped inside.
The room wasn’t really a theme in the sense that I’d expected it to be. This was one of the smaller rooms and held a table with stirrups in the center. One wall had the usual cabinets with the standard tools and sterilized equipment, should the Dom not have something at hand. There was a sink at one end of it with several hoses, and different shower heads attached laid along the granite counter beside it. The en suite toilet was tucked into the corner, but a gorgeous claw-foot tub sat in the center of a small alcove on the other side. The room had a very clinical feel with the tiled floor and drain in the middle of it.
I undressed as I walked, pulling my dress over my head and draping it over a spindly chair that was there for that very purpose. The dress was the only thing I’d been wearing, so I made my way to the table and studied it carefully before sliding my ass onto the cold plastic with a little shiver. Not that I wasn’t grateful for the contrast of temperature. My flesh was so hot from my arousal, and it was beginning to feel prickly with anticipation.
Taking the time while I had it, I studied the small room and the equipment inside it from my new angle. The only arm restraints on the table itself were on the headrest. There were two small D clips that would more than do the job of securing the cuffs I was wearing in place. The stirrups were the same kind you’d find in a gynecologist’s office, only with straps that would keep my legs in place rather than leave them free. Next to the bed was a small rolling table and a low rolling stool, also just like you would find at the gynecologists.
“Curious?” Denton asked from where he was standing at the door, his face alight with humor as he watched me.
“I’m always curious, Sir.”
Stepping inside, Denton pushed the door closed behind him before he set his toy bag on the chair where I’d laid my dress. He pulled out a leather toiletry bag. This shouldn’t have triggered the anticipation that rose inside of me the way it did, but there was no denying my reaction to this seemingly benign and inanimate object. I felt the trembling start in my gut before it rode through my veins. Denton stilled at my reaction, taking his time as he watched me, allowing me to process everything before he began to move again.
“Have you ever had your pussy shaved with a straight razor?” he asked gently, his eyes on mine, reading my reaction as closely as he could to make sure I wasn’t freaking out.
“I‘m not sure I would have trusted anyone to, Sir,” I admitted, ignoring the warming of my cheeks.
“Are you saying that you trust me?”
“I am.” It hadn’t taken much thought for me to find the truth inside myself, and he’d noticed.
Denton’s smile lit up his features, making him impossibly more handsome than he already was. It hardly seemed fair, but I admired it while it was there, noting every crease and line at the corner of his smiling eyes. In much the same manner, he constantly searched me for any sign of a lie, and he didn’t find one. I’d meant what I’d said. I wasn’t scared of seeing a straight razor in this man’s hands because I trusted him not to intentionally hurt me.
I didn’t have long to think too deeply about the meaning behind my self-assurances. Probably a good thing considering how easy it was to get lost in my own head when he was like this. I took my time, noting the unusual feeling of intoxication burning through my veins at allowing someone so much power over my body, while still feeling confident that they would never do anything to betray that.
“Goddamn, you please me.” Denton growled, pulling my attention right back to him.
It was my turn to smile. I could feel that curl of my lips radiating from every pore as I raised my hands above my head to where I knew he would need them. My obedience pleased him, and I was rewarded with a warm palm running from ankle to thigh as he made his way to the head of the table to take advantage of my compliance. He took his time touching and tasting as he continued and locked my wrists into place before heading back to the other end of the table on my other side. There, he could situate my calves into the stirrups and strap them down unhurriedly. Denton moved the stirrups with practiced precision, arranging my legs where he wanted them, leaving my body spread wide and bared to him. He was always mindful of my comfort, his eyes roaming my features and searching for any sign of distress as he worked, barely seeming to realize how lost to the moment I already was. I was so in tune with him and his movements, my body only recognized where he touched me. My eyes followed his every move, watching with hungry satisfaction as he stepped back to admire his toy for the evening.
“You’re beautiful.”
My head fell back against the padding of the table as I tried to catch my breath from the weight of his compliment.
Denton stepped forward, running his index finger down the backs of my thighs while his gaze was intent on their path as they moved. I almost came without permission. Denton had been teasing me all day, from our morning together, to his workshop, and out on the club floor. Now, here he was touching me, caressing me like I belonged to him, and it was impossible to stop the memories of every touch he’d ever given me from barraging my mind and body. There was no doubt he knew what he was doing as his fingers changed to palms that swept from the crease of my hip to my knee. He smiled, watching my pussy's reaction to his touch with his own ravenous hunger.
“Do you realize you’re giving me the biggest compliment, and you haven’t said a fucking word?” he asked, dropping his hands between my thighs. The back of his hand ran along my labia, and he did nothing but watch as my legs trembled under his touch, my eyes sliding closed as I lost myself in the very pleasure of the contact.
He didn’t stay there petting me for long, but I kept my eyes closed even as he stepped away, and the air in the room cooled my flesh. I simply listened to him move around the room methodically, the running of the water in the faucet, the gentle scent of something sweet, the zip of his toiletry bag, and the thrum of a rolling tray as he set up what instruments he needed. When I heard him dip the brush into water, I finally let my eyes flutter open and found him staring back at me. He was shirtless now, his gorgeous and well-defined chest on full display. The blue of his eyes was alight with arousal and power that I felt down to my soul, but my gaze soon dropped to his hands, where a small brush was lathering up the foam from a bowl in slow circular motions. I could feel his eyes on my face, reading every one of my expressions as he worked.
“Let me know if this is too warm.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Denton started the slow lathering on the mound of my pussy, his brush moving in gentle circular strokes, spreading the warm foam over the neatly trimmed hair there. He covered the skin, his eyes dropping to where his hands were working. The brush was moving between the foam in his bowl and my flesh, and every stroke was a carefully measured one designed to stir me up. Denton always took his time, never rushing to get the job finished, no matter how hungrily he studied me. When he was done, he slipped the brush into the bowl and set it aside on the small table so he could admire his work.
There was a part of me that noted how I should have felt self-conscious being so exposed the way I was. My legs were as far apart as was comfortable, and my ass pulled to the edge by the design of the table, while he was perched on a low stool between them, his eyes taking in every inch of flesh there.
The rest of me was too turned on to care, though. I was more focused on the man himself than anything else, and it was that part of my mind I clung to as
he attached the razor strop to the bottom of the table and began to run the blade over the leather. The sound was unforgettable, a metallic whisper that should have promised brutality, but instead made every nerve in my body flare to life, forcing me to fidget.
“I need you to stay very still for me. If you need to move for any reason at all, you will let me know.”
“Yes, Sir.” It was more breath than words, but he flashed those beautiful eyes up to mine for a second, then dropped the strop he’d been holding, throwing a small towel over his shoulder before he leaned in to start.
With his empty hand, Denton stretched the skin out until he was satisfied, flashed a look up at me, then rested the chilled steel blade against my skin.
I don’t know what I’d expected from this experience, but whatever my expectations had been, the sensation of that blade against my pussy exceeded it all. Denton didn’t apply much pressure; he hadn’t needed to. The razor was probably sharp enough to cut through flesh like a hot knife through butter, but the sensation of the dangerous edge against my exposed and sensitive skin made my breath stutter from my chest.
“Easy, baby.”
Denton made another rasping sweep of the blade over the mound of my pussy, conforming to every curve with absolute concentration and dedication. I wasn’t sure if he knew what this was doing to me, how alive my skin was under his ministrations. It was like a thousand tiny fingers at work, each one caressing, stimulating, and leaving a gentle thrumming sensation in its wake. Every drag of the razor over flesh released another wave of euphoria that dragged me below the surface of pleasure to pull me higher and higher.
When he moved to my labia in the same method of slow sweeps and stretching skin, an orgasm stirred in a place I would not be able to control for long, even when knowing it was taking my life in my hands if the dam broke and my body moved without his permission. He was dangerously close to the femoral artery.
I tried my best, suppressing every aching need that rode my nerves. As hard as I tried, I wasn’t perfect, and in a single moment I broke that edict. My wrists slammed against the barrier of the cuffs as my body tightened in its own shocking denial. The thought of disappointing him had been enough to force back the urge to climax, but that action had broken the promise not to move. The blade was gone only a second before a sharp slap of punishment stung my thigh and dragged a whimper from my throat.
“Stay still, beautiful. I’m in a tricky and dangerous spot.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“This is a freebie,” he purred, the tip of one of his fingers brushing over my aching clit in a gentle, teasing touch that had my legs jerking against the straps without thought. My pussy followed suit and tightened, looking for friction and found nothing.
“Patience, Emerson,” Denton growled in a hoarse tone that I felt on every inch of exposed flesh. “It won’t be much longer.”
I think I must have nodded because he shuffled closer again, and I felt the cold blade against my skin once more.
He went back to work in the same place as he’d been and then moved to the other side of my labia, drawing the blade over my skin in well-practiced strokes. There wasn’t much change in his measured movements since he’d begun working, but my body was so attuned to every draw of his hand and tilt of his wrist, my nerves were alight.
“Sir.” The single word was enough of a warning for him to pull back slowly and study me, a small smile on his lips as he read my needs with ease.
“Not yet.”
Leaning into my leg, he rubbed his stubble against my thigh and watched the cloud of pain cross over my face as I, once again, fought for control. My toes were already curled and threatening to cramp, the muscles in my calves, thighs, and stomach taut with my desperate need to please him and stay still. My hands were balled into fists above me, all aimed at fighting that need to give way to my basic animal urges.
“Not until I say so, baby.”
“I can’t,” I all but sobbed.
“Emerson.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“This will be the last little bit with the razor. I need you to behave yourself.”
I dragged in a breath and held it for a moment, nodding my head for him to go on as I focused on the expansion of my lungs instead of the aching need between my thighs.
I took only two more deep breaths in the time it took for him to finish, and I released all the air in my lungs the moment he wiped the blade clean and set it aside on the tray. I thought he was finished and inhaled once more, only to strangle out a moan as a hot washcloth came against my tender pussy and pushed a whole new realm of sensation through my body.
My thighs trembled so violently, his hands pressed against them to support me. The heat was wonderful and brutal in the same breath, and as my mind began to release the death grip on my control, it all abandoned me at once. There was no heat, nor warm hands on my thighs. No warm stream of air from his breath. All of the comfort and eroticism was gone.
I hadn’t even realized I’d closed my eyes until they blinked open in a desperate search for Denton and found him right in front of me. He was leaning over the table, his mouth coming to meet mine as my torso rose in a desperate attempt to close the gap between us.
He kissed me hard, his lips crashing against mine as our teeth met, and our tongues tangled. If I was breathing, I couldn’t tell. All I could feel was Denton, the heat from his body, the force of his mouth against mine, and the growl of power that found its way straight to my belly. This torture was so painful now my skin felt like it was aflame. He slowed first, pulling back just enough that I couldn’t reach him anymore, and he chuckled at the sound of frustration that burst from me.
“Not yet.”
This was the kind of control he enjoyed. My pleasure was now completely at his fingertips, and this denial, my desperate need to follow his commands and leave him holding that control, was turning him on as just much as it was me. Although I was sure that me being this close to the edge and giving him the opportunity to punish me for my insubordination didn’t hurt, either.
“I have so much left for you tonight, beautiful. Just a little bit longer.” When he glanced off to the side of the room, my gaze followed and finally found the source of the sweet scent burning away on the counter.
A candle.
Oh, shit.
When my eyes found Denton again, his smile was one of profound satisfaction. From his small rolling table, he dipped his fingers into a small pot of cream and rubbed it between his hands, warming it up before laying his palms on me. He started on my wrists, his strong hands working the lotion into my arms and down to my elbows in gentle but sensual circles—circles that did nothing to ease the peak of pleasure that was now clawing its way toward freedom from deep inside of me. His thumbs rimmed tender spots, pressing against the muscles, bleeding moans, and squirms from me. The only respite I received between his sensual touches were from his brief intermissions to get more lotion.
Denton moved as slowly with the lotion as he had with his razor. He took his time over my breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples until they were painfully hard, then down over my ribs, moving over my hips and around into the inside of my thighs. He moisturized the area he’d shaved too, his hands taking special care with my aching, needy flesh until a single tear struggled from the corner of my eye, and more begging passed my lips.
He finally finished at my ankles, his jeans struggling with the weight of his erection pushing against the zip fly that held him captive.
Only when he was satisfied with his work, did Denton step away from my body. His eyes moved over the skin he’d just warmed under his palms while he reached for the button on his jeans with another heated and hungry smile. All it took was a flick of his wrist, and his button was open, his skilled fingers easing his fly down. His hard cock slipped free from its confines with enthusiasm, and I couldn’t help my very natural reaction as he worked his jeans down his legs and stepped free.
My eyes stayed on his erection,
my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as my mind wandered back to that afternoon. I could almost taste him again as I watched him drape his pants over the chair.
Denton took his time to get what he needed ready, but when the flicker of light from the candle danced orange over my pale flesh, I struggled to breathe. I knew what was coming. I could feel the anticipation burning through my veins, but it was only when he got close again that my attention deviated to the liquid pooled around the wick of the thick candle he was now holding. My belly throbbed with desire as he swirled it gently in his grip.
Denton drizzled a small trail of wax on his own arm to test the temperature, and he considered the moment with a warm smile as our eyes connected.
“I need you to tell me if this is too hot for you. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded my agreement. When he raised an eyebrow at me expectantly, I tried again.
“I will.”
Satisfied, Denton started, tipping the candle to the side and slowly spilling the colored wax on the fleshy part of my hip. His eyes widened as I moaned quietly at the delicious heat seeping under the surface of my skin like an embrace. Taking my response as consent, he moved to my chest, trailing a long string of wax between my breasts, watching as it jumped and spread, trembling with me before slowly beginning to harden.
I closed my eyes and sank into the padded bench below me, a low moan trapped in my throat as I grasped the darkness. I didn’t want to know where he was going next. I didn’t want to see the heated look in his eyes. I had to white knuckle the orgasm already trying to ride a tremor that was electrifying my spine and making my body bow from the table below me.
When the throbbing heat of the wax coated my right nipple, I forgot how to breathe. When it worked its way over my left, Denton’s name fell from my lips like a benediction. There were not enough words to begin to describe the painful pleasure that had gripped me. This odd sensation grew with every spill of the wax, every caress of Denton’s hands, and every last compliment from his mouth.
You, Me, and the Crazy Ex: A Club Stigmata Novella Page 9