C is for…

by L. DuBois

  Spots swam behind her closed eyelids, and Beth realized she needed to take a breath. His hand fell from her hair and she pulled back, sucking in air through her nose, the tip of his cock still in her mouth.

  Her own labored breathing was mirrored by Master James’s.

  Exhausted, Beth’s shaking elbows couldn’t hold her up any longer. Letting his cock slip from her mouth, she collapsed on her side, knees curled up in a fetal position, her head on Master James’s thigh. His hand stroked her hair back from her sweaty face.

  Beth’s body continued to hum and throb, but she finally felt content, despite, or maybe because of, the plug and chastity belt, which were still in place.

  She closed her eyes, safe and satisfied, cradled against her Master.

  Chapter Seven

  James woke first, the warmth of a woman beside him making him smile before he’d even opened his eyes. When he caught sight of Beth, who was sprawled on her stomach beside him, the smile widened. She’d fallen asleep on his lap in the courtyard, waking only when he carried her into the bedroom and had her bend over the bathroom counter so he could remove the plug and chastity belt.

  Remembering how her ass had looked, red from the belt, spread wide as he removed the plug, he eased the covers down. There was one faint bruise on her left ass cheek—he must have hit that spot too many times in a row. The belt spanking had been impromptu and done with less finesse than was ideal. But there was something to be said for scenes driven by passion rather than planning, as long as he kept enough control to make sure he didn’t really hurt her.

  Beth had one leg bent to the side, seemingly begging him to touch her sweet pussy, which the position left exposed.

  He wasn’t the kind of man to ignore such an enticing invitation.

  She stirred slightly when he laid his hand on her thigh, stroking his way up to her pussy. Spreading her labia open with two fingers he used a third to tap her clit.

  Beth came awake with a start, sucking in a surprised breath. She started to close her legs, but he tsked at her.

  She froze, then turned her head on the pillow. Propped on one elbow he smiled at her, then pinched her labia together and tugged.

  “Good morning, Beth.”

  “Good morning, Master James.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m not awake enough to answer that question.”

  He laughed, though he could tell she was serious. “Well, I’m awake.”

  He lay back and pushed the covers away, revealing his morning erection. Beth looked from his cock to his face, waiting for an order. He didn’t want to give her an exact order, he wanted to see what she’d do. Rather than say anything, he pointed at his cock.

  Beth got to her hands and knees, breasts dangling enticingly under her. James tugged on her nipples as she positioned herself against him. Her head lowered towards his crotch, but she stopped, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He raised a brow.

  Beth shot up and swung her leg over his hips, straddling his cock. Before he could stop her, or help her, she’d tilted her pelvis, his dick sliding through the folds of her pussy to her entrance. She wasn’t that wet, but she lowered her hips, taking the tip of his cock into her body.

  Her whole body shuddered, and the sight of her—head thrown back, nipples pink and soft, belly tight—was enough to have him ratcheting closer to an orgasm. Her sheath grew damp around his cock.

  James grabbed her hips, pulling them down. Beth was tight—far tighter than he’d expected her to be. Her nails dug in to the skin of his lower belly, her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, and when her pussy clenched rhythmically around him, James realized she was coming.

  Using his hold on her hips he urged her to move. She obeyed, riding him with slow, deep strokes.

  “Faster,” he commanded.

  Her eyes snapped open. Bracing her hands on his chest she leaned forward a bit and sped up. As he raced towards his own orgasm, James found himself looking into her face, meeting her gaze. He could sense her desire, her need, and yet she was a mystery—there was something behind her eyes he couldn’t name, more to her than he’d yet uncovered.

  Needing more control, he rolled them over, tucking his forearms under her shoulder blades, hands curled over her shoulders from behind to hold her in place as he fucked her pussy hard and fast. When Beth tipped her head back and moaned, he bit her neck.

  He came inside her, slowing but not entirely stopping his thrusts as his breathing calmed. Part of him was waiting for a signal from her—a restless squirm or frown that would signal she needed more, but her eyes were closed and whatever pleasure had overcome her when his cock first penetrated her seemed to have satisfied her.

  At least for now.

  James finally pulled out, lying back beside her. For a second he reached for her hand, prepared to lace his fingers with her, but then stopped. That was an odd gesture for a Master and sub—too friendly to be sexual, too romantic for a club setting.

  “Master, may I leave the bed?”

  He nodded, head still on the pillow, and watched her slip off the bed. He saw her hesitate, as if she weren’t sure if she should walk or crawl to the en suite bathroom. She opted to walk.

  Once she was out of sight, James rubbed his hands over his face. Mikael had been right—Beth had been ill-used, though the other Masters’ mistake was understandable, if amateurish in his opinion. She was a fun sub when she stopped thinking so hard about what a sub should do. As she’d just demonstrated this morning, if she was given an opportunity to make choices, she opted for more overt sexual contact than her demeanor might otherwise indicate.

  He opened his eyes when she approached the bed. Kneeling on the edge she lowered her head and cleaned his cock with her tongue. Fierce pleasure roared through him as he watched her service and care for him. By the time she was done he was semi-hard, and when she cleaned him a second time with a warm wet washcloth he was fighting the urged to bend her over the bed and fuck her.

  After carefully cleaning his balls, Beth turned to take the washcloth back to the bathroom. He grabbed her arm.

  “Usually I’m the one with the washcloth.” Worry furrowed her brow and he stroked the pulse point in her wrist with his thumb. “That wasn’t a criticism, Beth.”

  “Oh.” She pursed her lips. “And you’re not angry that I…”

  “Rode me like a bronco?”

  Now she smiled, and again it transformed her face. “You didn’t expressly say you wanted my mouth on your cock.”

  “I didn’t. I like that you wanted me in your pussy.”

  The blunt language had her licking her lips and swaying towards him.

  “Do you know what I want now?” he asked in a low voice.

  “No, Master. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “I know you will.” He grabbed her left nipple and tugged her down, until she was bent with her face only inches from his. “I want you to go to the dresser and open the top drawer. Bring me two sets of clamps.”

  Beth scampered away, detouring only far enough to toss the washcloth into the bathroom. James sat up, adding pillows behind his back and crossing his arms to avoid the temptation to stroke his cock.

  She flicked through the selection in the drawer, which while far from comprehensive, he knew from experience had plenty of variety. Considering how much she’d enjoyed the clothespins he expected her to go for heavy clover clamps, but when she returned, she carried two pairs of delicate gold ones. One set were tweezer-style, which could be adjusted for tightness, and decorated with beaded gold tassels. The second were small screw clamps with black rubber tips, the screw part again allowing for adjustment of tightness. These were connected by three gold chains of differing lengths.

  She poured them into his outstretched hands.

  “Do you know where these are going?”

  “I can guess, Master.”

  “And what’s your guess?”

  “My nipples and pussy.”

  “Pre
tty and smart.” He pointed at her chest. “Play with your nipples.”

  There was a faint blush on her cheeks and James wondered if that was from arousal or if he’d embarrassed her. When her nipples were erect from tugs and flicks, he motioned her closer and applied the screw clamps, tightening them enough to keep them on, but not so much that they’d have to come off any time soon. The chains dangled between her breasts, the longest one falling nearly to her belly button.

  “Spread your legs.”

  When he toyed with her pussy lips, he found that she was wet. Rewarding her for that with a few strokes to her clit, he then applied the tweezer clamps to her pussy lips, placing them toward the front of her pussy, where the inner pieces would bump her clit and the decorative tassels would be more obvious, drawing everyone’s attention to her sex.

  “Walk. I need to make sure they won’t fall off.”

  Once he was satisfied they wouldn’t slip off her pussy lips, he motioned towards the wardrobe. “See if there’s a robe in there. I want you to put it on.”

  She frowned before obeying, flicking through the robes, bypassing terrycloth, kimono-style, and sheer black, selecting a long, white satin one. He was slightly surprised by her choice—it was a rather romantic, dramatic garment.

  Beth slid it on, the white a lovely contrast to her tan skin, and he no longer doubted her selection.

  He crooked his finger. When she stopped beside the bed, he pinched a fold of the smooth fabric and rubbed it against her clamped nipples. She jumped, then arched her back.

  “Now I want you, my lovely Beth…”

  He reached between her legs, flicking the tassels, then pinching the clamps together.

  “…to go get us breakfast.”

  Her eyes popped open and her lips parted, as if she would protest. He waited, trying to hide his smile. She bared her teeth at him and he laughed.

  “I’m hungry. We didn’t eat dinner. Go get food.”

  “Yes, Master. What do you like to eat?”

  “Meat.”

  “Turkey bacon?”

  “What? No! Real bacon. Sausage.”

  Her eyebrows climbed as she looked at him, as if trying to figure out how he got away with eating that. The damned woman was making him feel defensive. “I run.”

  “Ah. That explains the tan.”

  “What?”

  “Your arms are darker than your chest.”

  Was it that noticeable? “Er, yes.”

  Beth turned to leave, closing the robe and belting it in place.

  “Beth.”

  She stopped and turned back.

  “You can wear the robe closed on the way to the dining room, but when you get there, untie it. Make sure everyone can see your clamps.”

  Her eyes lowered and he could almost see her submission falling over her. There were some women who needed a constant level of domination and couldn’t handle shifting dynamics. Clearly Beth could, which James was glad of. He didn’t want to spend unnecessary energy making sure he was always in “Dom mode.”

  Beth returned ten minutes later, the robe open, exposing her naked body. Part of him wished he’d gone with her, wished he could have seen the admiring gazes she’d no doubt gotten. The tassels on her pussy clattered together cheerfully as she brought over a tray, placing it on the bed.

  “Join me.”

  She sat cross-legged, the tray between them. Her plate held an egg white veggie omelet and fruit. His had a California omelet, three strips of bacon, sausage, and one strawberry.

  “Is this your attempt to make sure I get some fruit?” He held up the berry.

  “There’s vegetables in the omelet, too.”

  “Ugh. Vegetables.”

  “I hope you’re joking.” She frowned at him.

  “I am. I’ll even eat this strawberry.” He bit the tip off, then reached over and rubbed it against her nipples, smearing them and the clamps with the pink juice.

  Beth’s head dropped back. “If this is what it takes, I’m willing to sacrifice myself to make sure you eat healthily.”

  James roared with laughter. The rest of breakfast was punctuated by laughter as they teased each other about their eating habits, sexual play as he licked her nipples clean, then pretended to get his fork tangled in the nipple clamp chains, tugging them until she was panting.

  When their plates were finally empty, James realized they’d been sitting there enjoying one another’s company for nearly two hours. With a start he realized this felt more like a lazy Sunday morning with a girlfriend than the precursor to a day of D/s play.

  “Get rid of the tray.” The command came out harsher than he’d meant it to and she recoiled slightly, eyes wide. James softened his tone, but turned away from her, getting off the bed. “If I’m not here when you get back, take off the clamps and clean them, then put them away.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Without another word he left, ignoring the voice in his head that said he should just stay in bed with her, talking and fucking. They had a list, and it was time for the next item.

  *****

  Beth had a fairly good idea what was going to happen next. She’d returned to the playroom to find Master James gone. Assuming a kneeling position near the cold fireplace, she looked up when the door opened, only to see a woman entering. The sub bustled over, holding out a cloth tape. Once she’d taken Beth’s torso measurements, she left.

  Another half hour passed before the door opened. This time it was Master James, and she was not surprised to see the corset he held under one arm, though the plastic bucket he carried was a bit more puzzling.

  Once he spotted her, he detoured to the seating area by the fireplace, easing into one of the wide wingback leather chairs.

  “Are you ready for our next scene?”

  “Of course, Master.”

  “Stand up.”

  Beth rose, stepping up beside his chair. When he sat forward and shook out the corset, she raised her arms.

  The corset was heavy reinforced satin, the black fabric seeming to glow with a muted shine. There were hook closures down the front and white satin ribbon lacing up the back. Smooth, cool fabric slid against her skin as Master James placed the corset around her back. Hook by hook he closed the corset down the front. The laces were loose enough that it wasn’t difficult. Once it was in place Master James rose and moved behind her.

  Beth gasped as he started to adjust the laces at the back, pulling the surprisingly stiff corset tight to her skin, then tighter still, constricting her waist and chest.

  “Hold on to the chair.”

  Beth clung to the back of the chair as he tugged. She could no longer take a really deep breath, and the pressure against her nipples was sweet torment.

  “There’s something very satisfying about putting a woman into a corset.” Master James’s voice was a low grumble, deeper and with a note of menace that hadn’t been there when they teased each other over breakfast.

  “I’ve never worn one like this before.”

  “What kind have you worn?”

  “A waist cincher.”

  “The ones that don’t cover the breasts?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “For this particular scene I wanted to see you in a full corset.” A final tug, and he stepped away. “There’s a mirror over there.”

  Curious, Beth moved until she could see herself. Her breasts were two plump mounds above the sweetheart top, her waist almost impossibly tiny. Her sex seemed very naked compared to the stiff black fabric.

  Master James stepped up behind her, seeming to loom over her, his hands settling on her cinched waist. Keeping his gaze locked on hers in the mirror, he dipped his head to nip her shoulder, then cupped one hand over her sex and lifted, forcing her onto her toes.

  She was panting—the only kind of breathing she could really do—when he stepped back.

  “You have your corset now, but we’re going to kill two birds with one stone and take care of another checklist item at the
same time.”

  He pulled something from the bucket and brought it over to her. The short black apron was trimmed with white lace. He settled it around her hips and tied it in place. It barely covered her sex, and from side to side was only wide enough to reach her hips, leaving her ass completely bare.

  “You make a lovely maid.”

  “Maid?” Beth twisted, looking at her ass, which seemed rather large compared to her waist. The tails of the apron strings dangled along the crease of her buttocks.

  “Chores are one of our checklist items.” Master James brought her the bucket.

  It was a simple blue plastic bucket. There were a few spray bottles, cleaning cloths, and a short feather duster inside.

  “Chores,” Beth repeated. She was turned on by the way he’d laced her in so tightly, but disappointed that now she was expected to clean. It was far better than being a footstool, and cleaning in a corset would at least be more interesting than the times she’d been ordered to help clean or set up playrooms while naked.

  Master James returned to his chair, turning it so he could see the whole room. He placed one ankle on the opposite knee, resting his chin on his fist.

  Beth placed the bucket on a side table and pulled out all the spray bottles, lining them up. Taking the first one, she started to read the directions for use on the back. When she was confident she understood that one, she set it down and picked up the second.

  “Beth, what are you doing?”

  “Reading the instructions.”

  “It’s just cleaning.”

  “I’m not familiar with cleaning products.” She kept her tone neutral.

  “You don’t know how to clean?”

  “I pay someone to do this.” This time her exasperation was clear. “I don’t want to damage the finish on anything.”

  “Beth.” His exasperation was a mate to hers. “I don’t want you to actually clean anything.”

  “Then why did you give me a bucket of stuff?”