by Joey W. Hill
It was crazy, but she went as motionless as possible and tried to push away the thoughts, the rationalizations, the defenses. It took some time, but he wasn’t in any hurry. He continued to play with her breasts, pinch and tug on the nipples, with varying levels of pain or arousing stimulation. It kept her mind jumping like a frog as she fought to stay still and not give in to the arousal that was getting as intense as an orgasm. The fact he was standing in front of her, that tempting, ready-to-fuck cock so obvious beneath tailored slacks, made staying mindless pretty damn easy.
And then, suddenly, it was there. A glimpse…for just a brief second, she understood what was required. Nothing but stillness, waiting on his word as to what would happen next. Relinquishing control to him in the safe confines of this room, where it didn’t threaten who she was outside of it. In here, she could be anything. Anything. Immerse herself fully in the experience. Let him pleasure them both.
The idea was intoxicating, terrifying, irresistible. And letting herself do that… Her gaze flashed up to his, a tingling flush swirling over her skin. It was only possible if she trusted him utterly, even it was only for this one moment. By telling him she’d cried wolf, she’d made a conscious decision to trust him. Which was why they were both still here.
“Will you…what will you do if I say ‘red’ again?”
“Ignore it.” Brushing her sternum with his knuckles, he dropped his hand to trail his fingers down her thigh, a casually possessive gesture. “Red was too easy from the beginning.”
Kneeling in front of her, he spanned her rib cage with his large hands, thumbs beneath her breasts. Despite the position, it didn’t feel at all like he was kneeling to her. She was hemmed in by his heat and strength, overwhelmed by being almost eye to eye, which she realized was his intent, to emphasize his next words. “Your new safe word is the one you keep avoiding. You really want me to stop, meaning you’re not faking it or panicking over a breach of shields, that’s the one you use.”
“That sucks.”
A light smile touched his lips. “You can be such a charming girl when you try.”
Her teeth had chattered a bit over her words, such that she bit back her reply now. Her hands were so cold. His covered them, squeezed, but then he rose, stepped back.
“See that circular mat over there? I want you on it, on your hands and knees, head and ass up.”
She was left staring at him as he went behind the curtain again. With only a slice of him visible, she couldn’t piece together what he was withdrawing from what sounded like wooden drawers. There must be a supply cabinet back there.
She shifted her gaze to the circle he’d indicated. Harmless enough. Like a yoga mat, except there were openings in the mat for metal handles bolted to the floor, perhaps for gripping. Or binding.
“If you’re still in that chair when I come out, I’ll put a leash and collar on you and make you walk to that circle on your hands and knees.”
“Yeah, right.” But she muttered it, and rose. Fortunately, her knees could hold her now. Though she felt more uncertain and self-conscious about it once she reached the mat, she dropped to one knee, then the other. Just like a yoga class. Getting ready for strenuous exercise. That was what this was. She closed her eyes, remembering his scent, that spicy aftershave, the heat of his powerful body. It wasn’t often she’d had that experience, a male pressed up against her with such sexual confidence and certainty. Maybe if she’d let herself get laid more often this past year, she wouldn’t have come unhinged so fast.
Shut up, Celeste. Remember how it felt a moment ago. Just letting go. Seeing what would happen. She knew the safe word. She could bring it to a halt, if there was anything in the universe more unsettling than the word she hadn’t allowed herself to say for years.
“Hands and knees. Now.”
She tipped forward, giving a little head toss and a hint of a sneer. “Yes, O Lord and Master. Want me to kiss your shoes? Or will your ass do?”
Celeste sucked in a gasp as a capable hand closed over the back of her neck, another pulling her right arm out from under her. It happened so swiftly, her face was plunging toward the mat before she could stop herself. But he controlled her descent, so she stopped just short of a face plow, her nape still in his grip, her wrist pinned behind her back.
“You think you deserve to kiss your Master anywhere, with that kind of behavior? Your hand, here.” He guided it to grip the handle to her left, then did the same to the right. The span between the handles had her hands spread slightly wider apart than shoulder width. He ran a set of straps through the handles and over her wrists and knuckles, binding her there. As he squatted before her, he was holding something that looked alarmingly like a harness. He fitted it over her shoulders, down her sternum and cinched it snug beneath her breasts, like a short halter top that framed her breasts rather than covered them.
“Keep your eyes down. Your focus is on how I’m making you feel, not what wiseass comment you can make.” As he circled behind her, she bit her lip when he gave her a hard smack on the left buttock to emphasize the point.
An adjustment between her shoulder blades and the strap around her rib cage pulled her shoulders back. He was straddling her body to do that, and the intimate position made her quiver again. When he stepped back to her left, she saw he held a remote. The mat vibrated beneath her, making her realize it was a dais, a dais that was rising out of the floor, taking her up about a foot higher. He’d shifted directly in front of her, and didn’t stop the lift until she was looking directly at the distended front of his slacks.
When she moistened her lips—she couldn’t help it—he let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl. “You haven’t earned that yet. I’ll need to hear screaming and begging before I’m hard enough to fuck that smart mouth of yours.”
He moved behind her again. Celeste’s heart accelerated as his hands settled on her ass. There was a whirring noise, but when she tried to twist her head around to look, he smacked her again, this time directly between her legs, a sting against her labia that startled her enough to make her snap her gaze back to the front.
“Eyes straight ahead unless I tell you otherwise.” His fingers probed her anus, and she bit back a whimper as that weird spiral of sensations spread out from the area. He’d lubed up his hand, because two fingers slid into her to caress and thrust, such that she gasped, lifting up to him.
“Nice. Just the position I want. Keep your ass up.” He cupped her pussy, putting pressure on it to make sure she obeyed. As his fingers came out, she made a nervous noise as something else went in, then expanded unexpectedly.
“That’s a balloon plug. It will keep getting bigger as I use the remote to expand it, stretch you out. In the meantime…”
A more alarming pressure as something far more rigid was pushed in behind the balloon, something she thought might be fastened to it. She felt the brush of cool metal between her buttocks. Ben stepped up on the dais, straddling her again to tighten a strap between her shoulder blades and that metal thing in her ass. She let out another gasp, panicked as the pressure increased inside at the same time her shoulders and ass were drawn up so she was in a straining convex shape.
“Very pretty. An anal hook and harness look good on you.”
“Ben…”
“First, a punishment for crying wolf. Then we deal with the rest.” Leaving her there, he moved back toward the curtain with purposeful strides, though he stopped when he got there and looked back her. A slow, heated smile crossed his face. “Yeah. Very pretty. You look totally fuckable, Celeste.” As he made the comment, he idly rubbed his hand over his cock, cupping his balls. The involuntary noise that broke from her lips startled her. Her pussy and ass convulsed in reaction to his obvious lust for her.
“Yeah, you’re getting as hot as I am. Can’t wait to hear you screaming.”
As he disappeared behind the curtain, she heard water start running again. The position was uncomfortable, in the most stimulating way. She co
uld never have imagined it. Celeste whimpered as arousal trickled down her thighs. Her back was arched to display her breasts, ass and pussy like a female in heat, wanting to be fucked. Instead of being appalled, she wanted his cock wherever he wanted to stuff it, just that crudely. She was slick and ready for him. A terrifying thought, but she might actually beg, just as he said.
No thinking, just feeling, just feeling…
When he emerged, she was braced to see all sorts of terrifying things, but he carried a basin of steaming water and two thin towels. Rolling a small table up to the dais, he put the basin and towels on it and began to soak one of the towels in the hot water.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He glanced at her. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Celeste. You simply submit, feel and serve.”
Gooseflesh rippled over her arms and breasts. She saw his eyes track it. “I’m scared again.”
“Some fear is good. It helps.”
“I’m not sure I want you to do…whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t. But unless that safe word crosses those fuckable lips of yours, you’re going to have to take your punishment.”
It scared her further to hear it. But as she contracted on that bulb inside of her ass, her pussy was still weeping. He wrung the towel out with hands she was pretty sure could break bones, if the pressure he’d put on her nipples was any indication. As he held the cloth twisted in both hands, he lifted his gaze to her. “No more talking. Close your eyes, or I’ll blindfold you again.”
She shut them, actually sort of grateful for it. Her breath was coming shorter and shorter. What was he going to do? She groaned as one of the things he obviously did was increase the size of the balloon, stretching her to a less comfortable, just-this-side-of-painful and yet stimulating feeling.
“Your pussy is slick and wet, Celeste. You want a cock ramming into you there. But you won’t get that. Not from me.”
There was a noise, like a ceiling fan or curtains swishing from the passage of air, or…
She yelped as the wet towel end popped high on her ass with a sharp explosion of pain. Just like her younger brothers used to do to one another. Only this had a far more sexual application. Another pop, on the opposite cheek. She jumped, tried to twitch away, but he was already landing another sting high on her thigh, then direct on her pussy. With her butt lifted this way, she couldn’t get away from that stinging kiss, and could only imagine the red marks he was leaving. All her twitching was shifting that plug inside of her, the hook, making things feel even more out of control.
“Ow…stop. Stop.”
“Not even started yet, Celeste.”
Her eyes sprang open, she couldn’t help it, as one of those potent stings landed on the side of her breast. She tried to flinch away and couldn’t. The negative stimuli was building, making her gasp, even as she couldn’t believe how she was still imagining the image he’d planted, of him ramming into her. She looked up at him, still idly twirling that towel, suggesting he had more in store for her. He did, but not with the towel. Tossing it back on the table, he picked up something she’d missed. A black flexible paddle, one that had raised silver lettering he showed her now, with a glint in his eyes.
Bad girl.
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t.”
“Told you not to look. But I think we’re going to leave the blindfold off, because it’s too damn hot to watch all those mixed emotions in your eyes. Fear. Arousal. Need.” Threading his fingers into her hair, he tightened his grip painfully on her scalp to hold her still. “You’re going to scream for me. Beg me to stop. Beg me to let you come.”
Was he insane? Or was she? She was smarting as if bee-stung in seven places. “No.”
He moved alongside her, letting his fingers slide along her spine. He did something to that hook, pushing the balloon in deeper, and she let out a moan, her hips twitching up. “You’re such a bad girl, Celeste. You’re wet and wanting, but still you fight. You won’t let yourself give in until you’ve been punished enough. Until you can let it go and say you’re sorry. To Matt, to all of us.”
“Fuck you,” she rasped, fighting panic.
She cried out as his fingers slid down from the hook and burrowed deep into her cunt, probing in ways that had her wiggling and gasping against him. The pads of his fingers were rubbing in such knowledgeable ways, such that when his thumb idly flicked over her clit, she nearly bit through her tongue.
He’d disappeared from her view and she wasn’t brave enough to risk the punishment that would happen if she looked behind her. She strangled on a cry as his mouth went where his fingers had just been, tongue plunging into her pussy to taste, teeth nipping. Then he moved up from there. His mouth sucking and tongue lashing around her stretched rear opening was mind-boggling. Things spiraled out of control again. She was making animal noises.
“I’ve had about as much of your mouth as I’m going to tolerate, Celeste. The next thing out of it better be an apology. A sweet one.”
“You can shove—”
The first blow from the paddle felt like a hundred bee stings against her ass. She screamed, and then screamed again in a different way, as his mouth came back, teasing her rim, making her writhe. Then he pulled back, and landed another blow on the opposite cheek. “Stop, please.”
Fingers deep in her pussy, thrusting, stroking, and her hips were pumping, short little jerks against him, pulling against the shoulder harness, working that balloon in tiny little shifts, like a cock in truth. Then he withdrew and struck again, this time against her upper thigh.
He didn’t have to tell her not to think now. She couldn’t wrap her mind around any words, expletives or otherwise. He did it so seamlessly, blending the pain with the near orgasmic pleasure. He cupped her clit, massaging her with his fingers while the rough heel of his palm worked her labia. Then he knocked her knees out wider with his own knee, and landed another slap of that paddle on the inside of her thigh.
“Spread them out as wide as they’ll go, Celeste.”
He was going to hit her full on between the legs with the paddle. No, she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t.
“Do it.”
She was doing it, and things were dissolving low in her belly, in her chest, which was as tight as a heart attack victim’s. She trembled, wondering why she was obeying such an insane command. He was going to hurt her, really hurt her, and she was going to let him do it, leaving her open to a wealth of different kind of hurt, a worse kind. She’d told herself she’d never let a man have that power over her. But it didn’t matter, did it? Because the alternative was this anger and hate, this festering poison that the pain seemed to be driving out of her, leaving this pitiful shell, what was truly beneath all of it.
“No, please don’t.” Her voice was broken. “Please.”
Instead of the flat end of the paddle, the opposite end of it, a thick phallic shape, slid into her, heated, vibrating, and apparently hooked at the end to come in full contact with her clit. At the same moment, the balloon apparently expanded to its maximum size, because she was stretched beyond pain. Pain and pleasure together, just as he’d promised, breaking her mind wide open.
“No…no, no, no…” Now the word meant something entirely different, as she was propelled up a rocky slope toward a tearing, ripping-the-body-wide-open-to-bleed orgasm. He had her rushing up that slope, and then suddenly it was pulled back. The paddle vibrator was gone, but the balloon still there, holding her open. He’d used the pleasure to make the pain bearable, but pulled it away at the last moment to now make the pain push back the pleasure, to hold that climax out of reach. He really was Satan.
Before she could get her mind wrapped around that, he was in front of her, opening his slacks, gripping her hair again to bring her attention to the massive organ that stretched out from the dark boxer briefs beneath. He had the timing of Satan himself, because she’d never wanted to suck a cock so much in her life. She too
k him in, as much as she could, sucking, licking, because she needed to service him in a way that went down deep into her gut. A need to serve a master, to give pleasure, to be cherished for such devotion, for such mindless submission…
She didn’t think at all, just worked him as hard as she could. She hadn’t given head much in her life, and could barely get her mouth around more than several inches of his considerable girth and length, but he helped her, directed her, and the rest was driven by pure emotional need. Her ass was on fire, inside and out, her pussy was drenched, her response dripping down her thighs. She was tied up, on her hands and knees, so vulnerable and exposed, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was this. Though he’d rolled on a condom, she still smelled the male musk of pre-cum. She pressed her lips against the steel of the aroused organ, nipping the flared ridge of the head.
He didn’t let her finish him, even though she whimpered when he pulled away, stripped the condom and tucked himself back in. She couldn’t lower her head much, but she wanted to hide her face. Tears were running down her cheeks, both from the stress of taking him and from other things. When he returned to her ass, where she couldn’t see him, she felt the paddle against her thigh.
“Ask for punishment, Celeste. Whatever words come to mind.”
“Please punish me. Make me feel better about…everything.”
He slid the paddle over her buttock, his hand following it, teasing at her pussy, making her tremble. He stroked her clit with his fingertips, so light, so very light. “Hold still,” he murmured. “Don’t move a single muscle. It’s all concentrated, right here.”
It was like a nuclear explosion. He stroked, stroked, just those light touches, circles, taps, then more strokes. His thumb began to tease her rim in the same way, little pushes against the hook, caresses of the opening. Her back arched, her mouth opened, throat constricting, thighs shuddering.