F is for…: BDSM Checklist, Book Six

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F is for…: BDSM Checklist, Book Six Page 8

by L. DuBois


  “I want you to get on your toes.”

  She straightened her upper body and adjusted her legs so she was balanced on knees and toes. Master Dante waited until she was in position, then disappeared for a moment, only to come back with two round pads.

  “Lift your knee.” He slid the pad, which was made of a plush memory foam, under her knee, so she was protected from the hard table. Her other knee got the same treatment.

  Then he picked up his nearly empty plate and walked out of her line of sight. Maybe this was more forced nudity. Should she pretend to be embarrassed? “Forced” in BDSM was a difficult concept. The very nature of BDSM meant you never forced anything, only challenged a partner to new experiences. Perhaps if this were a soft limit of hers, and being so publicly nude was something she hadn’t done before, or wasn’t totally comfortable with, this would feel more “forced.”

  Dante returned with a plate of dessert—chocolate covered strawberries, delicate madeleines, and a bowl of fat, juicy raspberries and blackberries topped with a dollop of cream.

  He set down two spoons, then left to grab a cup of tea, before finally taking his seat. He settled in like a man preparing to indulge.

  She raised her hands, lacing her fingers together under her hair. She was sure she was no longer as polished and presentable as she had been—her makeup was probably a mess, and when she’d caught sight of her hair in the mirror post sex it had been distinctly frizzy.

  But she didn’t care, because it was clear Master Dante didn’t. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes. And when he scooped up a spoonful of berries and cream and half-stood to offer it to her, Katrina accepted it, licking the spoon clean, hoping to make him imagine what else she could do with her lips.

  Scooping up another spoonful he took a hearty bite, leaving a bit of whipped cream on his lip. She wanted to lick it off. She want that so much that she started to lean forward before she remembered herself and snapped back into position.

  His lip snaked out to catch the bit of cream.

  “If I were a suspicious person, Sir, I’d think you were doing that on purpose.”

  Another bite, another lick. “You wound me with your suspicious nature, Katrina.”

  “My apologies, Sir.”

  “You’re right of course, but still, I’m wounded.”

  She fought the smile that tugged her lips. It felt odd to be having fun as part of a scene, but the laughter and teasing didn’t diminish her arousal. It actually made it easier for her to relax—truly relax, instead of just sinking into the quiet tension of subspace.

  Master Dante held the spoon between his lips, then picked up the second spoon and held it out to her.

  Katrina dropped her hands from behind her neck and took the spoon, her fingers brushing his. She leaned forward, spoon posed to scoop up some berries and cream.

  “Ah, ah, ah, naughty girl.”

  Katrina froze, her gaze sliding from the dessert up his scrumptious chest to his face.

  He smiled. No, it wasn’t a smile, it was a Cheshire cat grin.

  Katrina sat back, butt on her heels, spoon held awkwardly in her right hand.

  “Time for our next item, Katrina.”

  Oh that smile looked dangerous.

  “Forced masturbation.”

  Katrina’s eyes narrowed. Why would telling her to masturbate make him smile like a—

  “But we’re going to make it interesting. Forced masturbation…with a spoon.”

  * * *

  Katrina looked at the spoon in her hand, then at Master Dante.

  “I have to masturbate…with the spoon?”

  “Yep.”

  “How?”

  “I have no idea, but I have faith you can come up with something.”

  “Am I allowed to orgasm, Sir?”

  “Of course. But I should mention that you’re only allowed to touch yourself with the spoon. No fingers.” He gestured to the selection of desserts. “As you can see, I’m prepared to be here for a while.”

  “How long will I be masturbating for?”

  “Until I’m satisfied.”

  Katrina twirled the spoon in her fingers. She could do this.

  Keeping her eyes on Dante’s, she trailed the bowl of the spoon down her breastbone, over her belly, and between her legs.

  The metal was cool, not cold, as she tapped her pussy lips with the spoon. She slapped herself a bit hard, so the smack of metal on flesh was audible.

  His gaze dropped to her pussy. “Again.”

  She smacked the fleshy apex of her labia, just above her clit, and the strike had enough force behind it to sting, and to make her clit vibrate. She remained still, but when Master Dante didn’t issue any further orders, she wiggled the spoon between her labia, finding her clit with the convex side of the spoon.

  Her clit was dry, her body’s natural lubricant pooled at her entrance and between her inner labia. The metal wouldn’t slid against her skin, but instead of wetting it, she pressed the spoon hard on her clit and moved it in small circles, rotating her flesh, stimulating the nerves of her clit between the spoon and her pelvic bone.

  Katrina licked her lip and closed her eyes. She could feel his gaze on her, hear the murmurs of conversation from the other people in the dining room. She was on display, pleasuring herself with a freaking spoon, because her Master wanted her to.

  Her Dom. Her Dom wanted her to.

  That mental correction pulled her out of the moment, and her motions slowed slightly. She opened her eyes, trying to move away from that thought and back to how sexy and dirty what she was doing was.

  Her gaze caught Master Dante’s. He was pinching his lower lip in that sexy way he did.

  Another man walked up, resting one hand on the back of Dante’s chair. “I heard there was a new submissive.”

  “Katrina,” Dante said.

  The other man’s eyes roamed her naked form, and Katrina dropped her gaze to Dante’s chest.

  “She’s lovely. You have her for the game?”

  “I do. The letter F. What did you get?”

  The other man’s face darkened. “I’m not playing. Why don’t you introduce me, Dante?”

  “Why don’t you go find your own sub, Benson? This one is mine.”

  The way Master Dante practically snarled the word “mine” made Katrina’s pussy throb with lust. Yes, yes, she was his. If only for a weekend.

  “Fine. It was a pleasure to meet you, Katrina. Perhaps next time you’re—”

  “She’ll be mine then too.”

  Benson sighed, slapped Dante on the shoulder, and left.

  Katrina snuck a peek at Dante’s face. He looked fierce and a bit angry.

  “Did I tell you to stop, sub?” he growled more than spoke.

  “No, Master Dante.” She used the more formal title deliberately, hoping to soothe the savage Dom.

  “I want you to come. I want you to come again and again until you’re screaming my name so everyone knows your mine.” He grabbed his spoon and reached up. He flipped it so the hard lip of the spoon was against her breast, then dragged it down her skin, and over her nipple. Katrina gasped, the touch flirting with the pain/pleasure line, making her pussy pulse.

  She pulled the spoon off her clit and slid it down, into the well at the entrance to her body. She was wet, and the metal slid easily over her flesh. She scooped up some natural lubricant and applied it to her clit before flipping the spoon around and once more plying the rounded back side of the spoon to her clit.

  Now that she was wet, the spoon was surprisingly hard to control. The slick metal slid wildly against her most intimate skin, making it hard to find a good rhythm.

  Cold made her nipple pebble and she opened her eyes—she hadn’t realized she’d closed them, to see Dante carefully fitting a fat, juicy raspberry over her nipple. He then added a dollop of cream. “I love dessert.”

  He nipped at the raspberry, teeth catching her nipple in a gentle bite. Katrina kept the spoon moving, rotating
it around and around in a jerky, uneven motion as his lips, teeth, and tongue teased her nipple.

  He switched to the other nipple, not bothering with a raspberry, and his finger pinched and toyed with the one his mouth had left warm, wet, and pink.

  He sucked and plucked the tips of her breasts, and she rocketed towards orgasm.

  “May I come, Sir?”

  He jerked back as if she’d burned him. “Of course, Katrina.” He was breathing heavily, his breath fanning her.

  The sudden loss of his touch made the orgasm recede.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Whatever I did to displease you.”

  “You didn’t displease me.”

  “Then may I ask why you stopped, Sir?”

  He took one long breath and seemed to bring himself under control. He sat. “I stopped because this is masturbation. Meaning you touching yourself.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I’m going to spank you later for having such lovely breasts. You tempt me, you naughty thing.”

  The promise of a spanking made Katrina shiver. She shifted slightly, pressing her ass against her heels so she could feel the remnants of the flogging.

  “Masturbate for me, Katrina. I want to sit back and watch you come. I want you to put on a show.”

  Katrina braced her forearm against her hip, braced the fingertips of her other hand on the tabletop.

  “I want everyone who comes in here to look at and want you. But they can’t have you.” His voice deepened. “Because you’re mine.”

  She rubbed the spoon against her clit with vigor, and the orgasm was right there, ready and waiting. She sighed with the first wave of pleasure, then clenched her teeth as it swelled from a wave to a tsunami. Her stomach, jaw, and thigh muscles clenched. Her clit throbbed under the hard press of the spoon.

  Katrina threw her head back, moaning and gasping as the orgasm crested and started to recede.

  The spoon clattered against wood as she dropped it. She braced the fingers of both hands against the table, her body arched back in a deep bow that would have been impossible if she wasn’t a regular yoga and Pilates attendee.

  Katrina rested there, enjoying the tail end of the orgasm, enjoying displaying herself because her Dom had told her to put on a show.

  Broad, rough hands ran from her knees, up her legs and torso. He didn’t even pause at her breasts, just flicked the nipples casually and kept going.

  Over her chest, and along her neck, until he held her gently, one hand cupping her throat.

  “You’re gorgeous, Katrina. I should make you do it again. I should make you masturbate until you’re begging me to let you stop, but I want to fuck you.”

  “I want to please you.”

  “I’m going to fuck you right here where everyone can see.”

  Chapter 9

  Katrina lay back and spread her legs. Dante grabbed her knees and pulled her forward, until her ass was halfway off the table. She grabbed the sides of the table to keep herself from sliding off.

  He wasn’t going to let that happen. He had plans for her pretty legs.

  He pushed her knees up, until they were folded against her chest. That kept most of her body weight on the table and let him walk away to grab something. There were a few more people in the dining room now—everywhere he looked there were pretty naked men and women submitting. One was getting a spanking, another was under the table sucking her Dom’s cock.

  He grabbed some jute rope out of a supply cupboard and jogged back to their table. She’d wrapped her hands around her knees, holding them in place and keeping her legs open. He had a lovely view of that pussy.

  Dante stepped up onto a chair, sliding one end of the rope through a hook that dangled from the ceiling. He tied it to the back of a chair with a simple slip knot.

  He tapped her right ankle and she released that knee, extending her leg and holding it still, in a partial leg-lift pose that demonstrated an impressive amount of strength. He tied a four-loop rope cuff. A little more elaborate than what he’d used before, and once he was done, he undid the slip knot and started drawing up the slack, lifting her leg and foot toward the ceiling.

  When her ankle was secured, her leg a slender column of vulnerable, lovely flesh, he decided it was his turn to indulge.

  With a not-surprising lack of modesty, he shucked his pants. Katrina lifted her head, straining to get a look.

  Maybe she’d enjoy a close up. He was happy to oblige.

  Dante stepped around the table, so he was at the side closest to her head.

  Katrina’s eyes seemed to devour his cock. He hooked his hands in her armpits and dragged her until her head was half off the table. He checked her position and then grabbed a towel, folded it into a pad and put it between her skull and the edge of the table.

  Katrina knew what he wanted. The sexy, sassy sub grabbed his cock with both hands, pulling him towards her mouth. He went more than willingly.

  She turned her head to the side and then tipped it back. Her mouth opened and her tongue darted out, licking the fat, hot head of his cock.

  Damn that felt good.

  Another little tug, then the head of his cock was inside the warm heat of her mouth. It felt wonderfully odd—her tongue on the top instead of bottom of his cock, her upper teeth a hard pressure on the sensitive underside.

  Dante grimaced. He might not last long.

  That begged the question—come in her mouth and not fuck her, or cut the blow job short, and still fuck her.

  Or…

  Come in her mouth, then play with her pussy, maybe fuck her with a dildo, until his cock was ready for round two.

  What an excellent plan.

  With that decided, Dante fisted a hand in her hair, adjusted his feet, and took control. He slid in slowly, letting her rub her tongue all over him until his cock was nice and wet.

  He reached out and slid two fingers through her pussy as he pulled his cock out. She moaned around the head just before it slipped from her lips.

  Dante rubbed his fingers, wet with her juice, along his shaft.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth. Make a fist with your right hand. If you need to stop, spread your fingers. Don’t turn your head away or close your mouth.”

  He was feeling savage and needed her open and willing.

  “Yes, Sir.” She opened her mouth, pink tongue coming out to lick her lips.

  Dante tightened his hold on her hair and thrust in. His cock hit first her tongue, then roof of her mouth, the head sliding down to find the back of her throat.

  He felt her gag reflex in the tightening of her throat, but she fought it. He pressed in until the head of his cock was held in a vise-like grip. She swallowed around him, and Dante went a little light-headed.

  Katrina knew her blow jobs.

  He withdrew, listening as she sucked in air through her nose, her mouth still filled with his cock.

  This could be over in a few minutes, would be if he started up a steady rhythm. He wasn’t ready for that, so he gave himself permission to play.

  He slid in deep, holding his cock in her throat until she swallowed around him.

  He pulled all the way out and rubbed the slit at the tip of his dick over her lips.

  He kept just the head in her mouth, letting her play with him, that talented tongue caressing the crown and teasing the slit, her teeth scraping over him with just enough force that she earned a tug to her hair and a hard pinch on each nipple.

  Katrina seemed content to suck and play with him all night. Her eyes were half closed, her shoulders relaxed. One hand lay quiet on the table while the other cradled his balls. With one leg up and bound, the other leg folded and laid to the side on the table, he had a view of that lovely pussy.

  She might be content to stay like this for hours, but Dante was done playing.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Katrina.” His voice was rough, as if he was lost in the desert with nothing to
drink. A man dying of thirst. Thirst for her.

  She nodded slightly, his cock still in her mouth.

  He pulled her further off the table, until her head dangled off the end. This was going to be the sort of brutal face-fucking he didn’t normally do, but he needed it.

  And he trusted her to be able to take it.

  He spread his legs and started feeding his cock into her mouth, keeping one hand under her neck to support it and to make sure he didn’t accidentally ram the back of her head into the edge of the table.

  Pressing deep, he could actually see her throat expanding slightly as his cock forced it open. Damn it, that was dirty and sexy. He didn’t get in so deep that his balls hit her nose and cheeks, but he was sure that if she had her eyes open, she was getting an up-close view of his heavy sac.

  She sucked in a breath, and he could feel the pull of the air against his skin.

  Dante checked everything—her hand was still in a loose fist, he was protecting her neck and head, he could hear her breathing. It was as safe as he could make it.

  “Hold on,” he warned her.

  She didn’t have time to reply before he thrust back in, going into her throat before pulling out until just the head was in her mouth. He did that again, faster, then three more times. She sucked in air and moaned around him.

  Dante shortened his strokes, sinking only half way in, so she could still breathe. His balls tightened, drawing up. Through heavy lidded eyes, he looked down at her naked, spread body. Her breasts jiggled slightly with each breath, her pussy was nicely pink, her labia open enough that he could just see her clit peeking out.

  Dante looked around, meeting the eyes of anyone looking their way. Most of the Doms and Masters nodded in acknowledgment—some with a nod, a wink, or in one case, a jaunty salute. The subs dropped their gazes if they weren’t already lowered.

  He hovered there, on the edge of orgasm. He wanted to howl to the moon, to roar like a primal beast who needed his female to submit and obey him.

  Reaching out with his free hand, he grabbed one of Katrina’s nipples and gave it a hard twist. She yelped around his cock and started sucking him frantically, creating such strong suction he had to fight to pull his cock out. He did it again, another yelp, this time followed by a moan, and her hips lifted off the table, her bound leg tensing.

 

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