by Ann Jacobs
“Please Master.” Had he always been so considerate, or had the horrors he’d endured tempered his Dominance, made him go easy, shield his partner from the rough edges Earl had always exhibited not only in public D/s scenes but also when they’d been alone like this?
She loved the way Jared caressed her with his gaze. “Relax. Your pulse is racing already and we’ve barely begun. I want you so hot you’re screaming for me to let you come.” Lifting her leg and setting it on the bed, he stood, looked at the selection of toys and chose a bright blue anal plug from a shelf in the wardrobe. A shadow of pain crossed his face when he shifted his weight to the right, and the nurse in her longed to have him sit, remove not only the jeans he now was unzipping to free his long, thick cock but also the prosthesis she was sure had to be hurting his stump.
The sub in her kept quiet and concentrated on the cold, wet sensation of the lubricated plug as he worked it up her ass…and the delicious sight of his huge, rigid sex, already glistening wet at its purple-veined tip, beckoning her touch. Her tongue. “Master, may I…”
He stepped up to her, gave silent permission. She leaned forward, tasted him, took his cock head in her mouth and swirled her tongue over the pulsating, velvety flesh. He caught her head between his hands, guided her to take him deeper. “Swallow it, honey. Take it all. Oh yeah, suck me, like that.” His words dissolved into a moan when she bent her head back and took him deep. He tasted good. Clean, a little salty. When she reached and weighed his heavy seed sac in both hands, he leaned closer, encouraging her.
She liked the smooth feel of his balls and around his anus, wondered if he’d been thinking of her when he’d shaved away all but the thick, neatly trimmed nest of dark hair that surrounded his cock. She swallowed as much of him as she could take and ran a finger slowly around his asshole.
His cock twitched against her throat, and he shuddered when she started to work her finger against his anal sphincter. “Stop that or you’ll make me come,” he ordered, stepping back and depriving her of his cock. “Get up and stretch out over the spanking horse. It’s obvious you need some discipline first.”
Now he sounded like a Dom, certain of what he wanted and what he expected of her. She liked that, liked that for the moment he’d apparently forgotten everything but what they were doing. What he intended to do to give her a climax.
Completely naked other than for the butt plug that stretched her tight rear entrance, she was feeling especially vulnerable as she moved from the bed. A delicious shiver of anticipation tinged with fear surged through her as she bent over the padded device, resting her belly against the red leather-covered top. A shiver went through her when he came up behind her, bent, spread her legs and secured them to the closest sawhorse uprights with Velcro straps. Anticipating his next move, she gripped the uprights on the other side with both her hands.
“That’s a good sub,” he said when he came around and found her waiting for him to fasten the cuffs. “Is your naughty pussy ready to take some punishment?”
Her clit was throbbing, the sensitive tissue swollen with arousal. Her own juices flowed over her freshly denuded skin, heightening the feelings. More than that, her emotions peaked at the prospect of him driving out the guilt, leaving her with nothing but the ecstasy she’d hardly realized how much she’d missed over the lonely years since Earl…
“God yes, Master, I’ve been a bad, bad girl. Please whip your naughty slave.” She felt his hands on her shoulders, moving lower, caressing her bare flesh with searching fingers until he reached her butt cheeks and massaged them with a circular motion. He bent, a little shakily she thought, and nipped at the sweet spot just below the hairline at the back of her neck. “Mmmm.”
He stepped back, out of her line of vision. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of having her master’s cat o’nine pepper her skin with its metal-tipped tendrils—of having Jared provide her the punishment he must sense that she needed to find release.
She’d been anticipating the bite of his whip against her naked flesh. Instead she felt only air rushing by when the whip missed her by less than an inch.
He chuckled. “Guess this is one skill that hasn’t gotten too rusty. Next one’s for real. I can hardly wait to soothe your pretty bottom after I redden it with this.”
The next crack preceded a sharp series of stings as the ends of the cat made contact with her tender flesh. Again. And once more, she experienced the sort of pleasure-pain she’d almost forgotten, sensation that had her pussy wet, wanting…
“So wet. I like that.” Jared stroked along her damp, swollen pussy lips with his right hand. Then he set aside the whip and traced the burning ribbons where it had marked her ass cheeks, his touch incredibly gentle. Incredibly arousing. “We’ll go slow. You’re so damn soft…like silk. Does this feel good?”
It felt good, yes. And he looked good enough to eat, naked now but for his boots and chaps. Seeing his cock curving upward toward his flat belly, watching a vein on its underside throbbing rhythmically, made her mouth water. His balls had drawn up tight against his body, a dead giveaway to the height of his arousal. The taste of him was still fresh on her tongue…salty and sexy and…
“Oh, yes.” It had been so long, too long, since she’d felt a master’s touch. Too long since she’d paid a lover homage with her hands and mouth. “May I service you now, Master?”
“In good time.” He seemed in no hurry, stroking her first with one hand and then the other, as though learning her by Braille. She held the position, hands and ankles restrained, loving the anticipation, enjoying the slow arousal, Jared’s seeming fascination with the pulse points behind her knees, the exaggerated curve of her spine. When he bent and blew along the length of her swollen slit, the sensation triggered waves of tiny shocks she felt deep in her belly. “Don’t come,” he warned, giving her a sharp slap on the backside with the flattened palm of his hand. “Not until I give you permission.”
He wanted her more than he’d wanted water when he’d been lost in the desert, more than he feared she’d reject him when she saw his scars, the functional but ugly prosthesis his boots and chaps couldn’t quite hide. No, wait, she’d already seen those scars. She’d seen his naked stump with blood oozing obscenely from places where the goddamn metal fragments kept working their way out. He ran his palms along the length of her firm, slender thighs, was rewarded with a soft moan that sounded a lot like “Jared.”
When he ringed her asshole with a finger and jostled the plug, she squirmed and whimpered. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Oh God yes.” She drew out the word so it sounded like an ecstatic sigh. Realizing her dead husband must have taught her every kink in the book aroused him yet sent a tiny twinge of jealousy through his brain. Come off it. You’re no virgin, either, and the last thing you’d want would be an innocent partner who’d have to get over screaming at your scars before she’d let you teach her.
Bending, he unfastened her bonds, pausing on the way up to caress the firm flesh of her inner thighs.”Get up on the bed now. Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
She lost no time complying, and he wished he had as much confidence in her motives as he did in her need to be fulfilled. “This way, Master?” she asked, meeting his gaze in a way that bolstered his confidence though it was too direct not to attract a stern Master’s punishment.
He wasn’t feeling stern right now, he was aching to claim her. Her lips were moist, slightly open, begging for his kiss—or for permission for her to wrap around his cock and suck out his climax. In another time and place he’d have obliged her, stood motionless while she knelt at his feet, arms wrapped around his calves while she gave him head. But not tonight. Tonight he’d fuck her until she screamed for mercy, and then maybe he’d let her taste him coming in her mouth.
He moved between her outstretched legs. God but she was wet and swollen, so tempting to his starved libido. So trusting, so ready to take whatever pleasure he chose to give. “Yeah. Just like
that. Relax and don’t move.” As he’d done a hundred times before in another life, he lifted the silk scarves tied to each of the four posts on the bed and laid them across her wrists and ankles. He didn’t tie them, instead relied on her obeying his order to stay still. To flex her knees outward and let him in.
It suddenly hit him that being a master wasn’t all about physical compulsion, that much of being a Dom involved emotional control. Still, he couldn’t get it out of his head… “Are you doing this because you feel sorry for a beat-up soldier?” he asked as he withdrew the plug from her ass.
She lay there for a minute, her expression reflecting hurt, amazement…and anger inappropriate for a sub to express toward her Master. Then she moved, her motion deliberate, sliding off the bed and onto her knees before him. “Don’t you dare think that! Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed about you taking me? About you letting me taste your big, hard cock? When you were in the hospital, you dreamed. You commanded someone to her knees. When you did, I got wet and swollen.” Cupping his aching balls in both her soft, warm hands, she bent and licked away the drop of lubrication in the slit of his cock. Then she looked up at him, the burning desire evident in her gaze. “I had Marshall send you the invitation…”
“How did you know I was into this lifestyle?” Right now he didn’t care. Her hands were on his thighs, her pretty head resting against his belly as she looked up at him with those big blue eyes. But he had a feeling she needed to tell him, so he threaded his fingers through her hair and made her look him in the eye. “Tell me.”
“When you were sleeping, you’d dream. And say things that made me know you’re a Master. Lots of times you’d cry out in your sleep and I’d come stand by you. You’ll never know how much I wanted to crawl into that bed with you, comfort you.”
He bent and lifted her. He let her feel the strength of his arms when he held her tight. His mouth came down on hers, hard, and he tongue-fucked her mouth the same insistent way he intended to fuck her wet, hot cunt. “Lie back down and spread your legs for me,” he growled.
This time he knotted the silk ties, holding her helpless for his pleasure—and hers.
“God yes, Master. Please fuck me.”
“All in good time, my naughty sub.” Leaning over her, he took her mouth again, using his fingers to play with her tight little nipples. When she whimpered with pleasure, he raised up, giving the rosy nubs a farewell twist as he stood and moved to the wardrobe again.
As she moaned with her arousal, he squeezed lubricant onto his index and middle fingers before slowly working them past her tight anal sphincter, stretching her, readying her to take the larger plug he’d selected. Someday he’d fuck her ass, but not tonight, not until he’d stretched her enough so she could take his cock without pain. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the plug until its flared base rested against her tight, inviting rear entrance.
“I want you to wear this for me when you’re home,” he said when the last and largest of the three sections slipped inside her. “Imagine it’s my cock in you, stretching you, fucking you.” When she whimpered his name he added, “Soon enough, I will fuck your pretty ass.” It didn’t escape his lust-driven mind that he’d just assumed this was to be a long-term situation. That deep in the back of his mind lay a growing feeling that Ninia was the woman over whom he’d like to exert full ownership. That realization didn’t make him pull back, the way it had when he’d thought it with countless women in his past.
Before, he’d been just passing through between assignments in different ones of the world’s hotspots. Anbar Province. Afghanistan. Desert Shield and the hell that was Kenya. None of them places to take a woman. He hadn’t had time or energy to think of home or commitment, or even taking a woman for much more than a few nights’ pleasure. Now he might be battered, but he was free. No longer a willing slave to the Marine Corps but a free man. Free to take a lover other than the Corps. Free to fall in lust and love, to commit himself to one woman’s pleasure.
She squirmed against her bonds. Her mouth was tight, as though she was trying not to cry out, not to beg him to ease her arousal. His balls tightened at the sight of her nipples, distended, tight, beckoning his hands and mouth. He dared not look at her cunt because, if he did, he was afraid he’d come on the spot.
No. He had more self-control than that. Staying on his feet, he stroked the length of her body, catching her nipples between his fingers and twisting them until she moaned. He soothed the welts the cat had made on her sides and her thighs, inhaling the sweet musk of her sex and pinching her impudent little clit that poked temptingly from her satiny labia. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yes Master. God yes. Fuck me now, please.” She sounded tortured, as if forming her words took too much concentration. “I need to feel your cock inside me.”
Jared wanted that too. He wasted no time shedding his boots and chaps and rolling on a condom. Moving onto the bed and settling on his knees between her legs, he rubbed his cock along her wet, hot slit, found her cunt and sank inside. “Oh yeah. You feel fantastic. So hot and wet. So tight. I could fuck you all night long. Squeeze me, baby.” She worked her inner muscles on him. His balls drew up, preparing…
Too soon. He didn’t want it to be over, not yet. Not until she wanted to come so much she’d scream with frustration when he told her no. Deliberately he slowed the pace, rocking in and out, first shallow then deep, grinding his pelvis against her satiny mound, resting his hands on her ribcage and tugging at her rigid nipples. He tried to ignore the incredibly erotic feelings, the persistent pressure from the anal plug through the thin layer of her flesh that separated her two welcoming holes.
Pressure built inside his balls. His cock twitched. “Come for me now,” he ordered, fucking her hard, closing his eyes and pounding into her G-spot until she arched her hips to his and screamed. Her cunt contracted around him like a vise, drawing out his own shuddering climax.
When he opened his eyes, he fully expected to find her gone, to discover she was only another torturous dream.
Chapter Four
But Ninia was beside Jared, straining against the ties that bound her. She wanted to touch him, feel the tremors that still rippled through his big body. Her heart still pounded in her chest as she fought to catch her breath.
“Thank you Master,” she said when he bent over her and began to loosen her bonds.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” His grin was feral, the look in his eyes that of a sated male who’d just staked his claim. “Since you like Japanese rope bondage so much, we’ll go watch this Master Chad demonstrate it if you wish. I’d be remiss if I didn’t learn an art that so obviously brings you pleasure.” Standing, he stepped back into his boots and strapped the black chaps low on his waist.
But Ninia had seen him hesitate before leaving his jeans on the chair beside the bed, and she sensed his reluctance to leave the safety of their private cocoon. “If you’d prefer, I could show you how to wrap the Karada. Here. Now.” Sensing that was what he wanted, she rose and stood before him.
“I’d like that. You have no idea how incredibly sexy you looked, bound that way.” He gestured toward the pile of royal blue nylon rope he’d unwrapped. “I figure there must be seventy feet of rope here. Plenty to net you nicely.”
“Sixty-five feet to be exact, Master. The wrapping isn’t nearly as complicated as it looks.”
His dark eyes glittered with barely concealed desire. “Show me.”
“First, you fold the rope in half and put the loop around my neck.”
He did it, his fingers brushing the spots just below her ears, sending shivers of delight along the sensitive nerve ends there. “Okay. Now I knot it, right?”
“Right. The first knot needs to be placed right here.” She reached up and showed him the spot, above the upper end of her breastbone. “Now make more knots every seven inches or so. Don’t pull them tight now, that way you’ll be able to adjust them later to the exact positions where y
ou want them.”
“Got it. Now the doubled rope goes between your legs, up your back, and…” He shot her an inquisitive look.
“Now you pull the ends of the rope through the loop around my neck. Careful. Don’t pull it too tight.”
“Never.” He ran a finger around her neck, slowly checking to be sure there was enough slack. The gesture made her feel cherished—protected, as much as she could remember ever having felt under a Master’s hand. “What next?”
“Next you thread the ends of the rope through the loop between the first and second knots. Run both ends to the back again, pull them through the first loop on the back, and back again to the front, into the loop between the second and third knots. Keep going until you get to the last loops at the bottom, and tie off the loose ends.”
Jared took a step back, admired his work and grinned, as though he thought he’d performed some great feat. “How’d I do, my pretty submissive?”
“Very well, Master.” Ninia presented her back. “You need to adjust the knots here so they’re not right on my spine. Right or left, it doesn’t matter, but when you tighten the net, the pressure on the spinal column gets painful—even dangerous—if the knots are directly on the spinal column.”
He wasted no time moving the knots, meticulously settling them the way she suggested, stroking the skin around her, making her crazy with need. The delicious pressure of the rope on her tender flesh increased as Jared tightened her bonds. “Your safe word is ‘nurse’”, he whispered as he made one final adjustment. “On your knees, now. I want to feel your sweet mouth on my cock.”
She wanted that too. Each knot of the Karada pressed against her throat and breasts when she went back on her knees. With every motion, her bonds reminded her of his power, her helplessness. He loomed large before her, his erection jutting proudly from the dark nest of curls between his thighs. A powerful phallic symbol, living, throbbing, framed once again in those black chaps that had the not-unpleasant smell of leather fresh from the tannery.