Bound to You

by Nichi Hodgson

  The closer inwards he moved his hand, the more electric the sensation, and the wetter I got. Each time I swooned back towards him and begged him to fuck me. Sebastian had never spanked me to this level of pleasure before.

  ‘You’ve had it too easy with the spanking. You thought it was all about me quietening you down. But I know,’ he bent down to my ear, ‘that you’re secretly slutty enough to want me to smack your cunt.’ He slid three fingers in and out of me in rapid succession. ‘Oh, you want it all right.’

  Just that phrase left me breathless and caused me to pulse around Sebastian’s fingers. I was desperate.

  ‘Open your legs wider, Nichi. That’s a good little slut.’ He spanked me again with precision, three times, four, in quick succession until the entire area between my legs was burning, until even the tops of my thighs were damp. And then he struck my pussy, allowing his fingertips to strike my clitoris, before he plunged his fingers back inside me. He repeated this ritual four more times.

  ‘Sebastian!’ I could barely get his name out. I gasped and shivered with electrified pleasure. Sebastian stroked my hair roughly, giving it a quick vehement tug, then traced his fingers down along the curve of my back. My perfect sponge of ass was still presented for him, and he began covering my cheeks in kisses, kissing in an inward curve, just as he’d spanked me.

  ‘Now you’re properly quiet for once, I see.’ It was true. The spanking had utterly pacified me. Was this what it felt like to be in sub-space?

  Sebastian put his hands back on to my bottom. I waited for him to penetrate me, and rubbed myself back on to his leg. Wasn’t that what he was going to do?

  ‘Oh, no, I want to see you.’

  He spun me over and kneeled once again on my wrists, as he slid his massively hard cock into the wetness he’d created. We both moaned and clutched at each other as he sank up into me.

  It didn’t take long before Sebastian’s whole body began to tighten and tremble in that way I now knew so well. He must have been slyly masturbating himself before he’d begun touching me. And then, just as he began to climax, he repeated under his breath, ‘Nichi mou, oh, Nichi mou.’

  My heart seemed to hit two beats at a time. I was so startled at hearing that endearment after all this time that I clamped my legs too tightly about his cock, oversensitive after his orgasm, which caused him to suck in his breath sharply between his teeth.

  There was no explanation or comment on what he’d just said. He merely stroked a hand through my hair indulgently.

  When I could move, I got up to go to the bathroom and steadied myself on the sink, trying not to peer too critically at my flustered face and sex-tangled mane in the mirror. Then I smiled in spite of myself. It must mean something, mustn’t it? Sebastian had listened intently last night as I’d explained how significant that little phrase was to me and now he was using it.

  Nichi mou. Was I really his Nichi?

  CHAPTER 18

  Later that morning Sebastian walked me to the tube station. It was raining and he carried an umbrella, valiantly trying to shield my revealing outfit and suede shoes, both now utterly unsuitable for daytime, from the inclement weather. My eyes were smudged, my lips swollen. My hair had the kind of height whipped into it that only a night’s worth of hard sex could construct.

  Passing men, builders, students and a weekday morning’s general ne’er-do-wells leched at me openly, despite my being on Sebastian’s arm.

  I giggled and played up to my newly acquired whore-about-town status. ‘This is because you called me one last night, Sebastian! The world has picked up on it! Honestly, what kind of feminist totters about like this on a Thursday morning!’

  Sebastian laughed. ‘You’re just a feminine feminist that likes being looked at. A femininist! Embrace it!’

  We crossed over cobbles and Sebastian slowed down and held on to my wrist, concerned for my safety in the vertiginous shoes. ‘Lean on me,’ he urged.

  ‘I don’t need to lean on you!’ I shot back. ‘I’ve been wearing heels since I was seven years old!’

  ‘Aw, come on, Nichi, I’m being romantic!’ He was teasing but in the tease was a kind of confession. Perhaps this was Sebastian’s way of saying, ‘You deserve more.’ Or could it be his way of ensuring I carried on dominating my clients to procure more funds for him? I didn’t think so.

  ‘Honestly, Sebastian, I have no idea how I’ve managed without you all these years.’ I smiled slyly.

  He put his hand on my face and kissed me. Once, twice, three times. Each kiss a little longer, a little more ardent then the previous one. We locked eyes for a moment. I saw something awakening in Sebastian’s face: the realisation that I mattered to him.

  When I got home there was already an email from him, with links to another art show he suggested we might go to. Then later that afternoon there was a text to say he’d had a lovely time with me and not to worry about flashing my tits along Dalston High Street. ‘Think of it as a kind of community service, cheering up frustrated men on a wet Thursday!’

  The next weekend we went to his suggested exhibition. It was rather lacklustre compared to the Kusama. But I didn’t care. Sebastian, I felt, was opening up to me, opening up to our very real relationship. When we got home, he went into the kitchen to fetch some water while I started to undress. He startled me when he re-entered the room.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve disturbed the lady in her chamber. Shame you don’t have your unicorn to protect you!

  I started to laugh. ‘Don’t you have be a virgin or something, according to legend?’

  ‘Ah. I see. No, you’re right, not much chance of that with your record. Well, maybe we can create you something else. How about a hornikorn?’

  I started to giggle. ‘A hornikorn?’

  ‘Yes, it appears when you do something particularly depraved. The less innocent you are, the more likelihood you have of seeing it.’

  ‘Oh my God, this is perfect! Can it be priapically purple, please? And have a black glittering horn?’

  ‘A horn that’s like a massive dildo? Absolutely!’

  Sebastian harrumphed like a horse and squeezed me to him, playfully caressing my breasts. ‘Yes. Definitely a sacred child of the hornikorn.’

  The next morning I was sore from the vigour with which Sebastian had fucked me the night before. He offered to ‘lick it better’ but I had an overwhelming urge to lick him instead.

  The more violent the evening sex, the more tender the next morning, I had realised, and right now I wanted to show him just how tender I could be. He stroked my hair as I kissed my way down along his chest, over his stomach and along his stiffening cock. I took him in my hand and slid the head of his cock back and forth along the length of my lips.

  ‘Oh, Nichi, oh Nichi Nichi, that’s so good. That feels amazing, don’t stop.’

  As my lips lingered over the head of his cock, he took his fingers and brushed them over my lips, so that he was part stroking me, part stroking himself. The sensation was exquisite. Every so often I would take him full in my mouth, then pull him up and out before encircling the head of him with my tongue and sliding him along my lips again, letting my saliva silken the end of his cock, before plunging him hard back down into my mouth, as far as my throat could accommodate him.

  It took just a few minutes before Sebastian was ready to climax. ‘In my mouth, Sebastian, go on,’ I urged him, and in a few more seconds he had coated my lips and my tongue with his hot, sweet cum. No man had ever tasted better than Sebastian.

  Afterwards he pulled me up to him and we kissed woozily. ‘Thank you for that.’ He kissed my head, before fixing his sleepy eyes on my face. Even half closed, they shone. ‘That was beautiful. Just another reason why you’re as unique as a unicorn.’

  I felt a surge of joy rise up from deep within me and spread across my skin, as if I were suddenly bathing in a dazzling, warm turquoise sea. And then I knew it. I was in love with him.

  Later that week we met up for a drink. I was
dressed in a graphic print frock with a plunging neckline, accessorised with black peep-toes and tiny quirky scissor earrings I’d found in the Victoria and Albert’s haberdashery shop. I’d decided to tone it down a little after our last meeting. At least I could go to work in this outfit.

  He kissed me in greeting, and immediately, and unusually for him, said, ‘Nice earrings!’

  I twiddled one, puzzled. I thought they were cute. They weren’t the kind of thing that usually invited male attention.

  Sebastian was smiling but he looked strained. ‘How’s your week been so far?’ I asked him.

  ‘Oh, you know, the usual existential struggles!’ He grinned but I could tell he was tense.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Work’s not going too well. Juliet was talking about coming over here for a visit but Lana is being difficult. And my visa is probably about to expire.’

  His visa? God, of course. Not since that first date had we ever really talked about his residency.

  ‘What’s the deal with the visa?’

  ‘I have until the end of the year, then if I haven’t found anyone to sponsor me, I have to go back to Montreal. Or even South Africa. I have Lithuanian ancestry and can try and apply for an EU passport that way but there’s no guarantee I’ll get it.’

  That sounded bad. I swallowed.

  ‘And what about Juliet?’

  ‘It means I’m going to have to wait until Juliet’s eighteen before I can spend some proper time with her again. She was thinking about coming to work in London for a while but Lana’s never going to have it. It’s just to spite me. Yet again.’

  Sebastian drained his whisky. He never drank this quickly.

  ‘How can I help?’ I asked.

  ‘You can’t,’ he replied flatly, then opened his mouth as if to speak for a moment as he stared at my earrings again. Did he really like them? Was there something wrong with them? ‘I’m going to get another one. You good?’ I nodded. I’d barely touched the glass of white wine I’d asked for.

  While Sebastian was at the bar my mind raced. So he was right, I couldn’t directly help with Juliet but I could help with the visa. I mean, all I had to do to keep him in the country was marry him, right? It sounded rash, I knew. And yet the intensity of our connection over the past six months assured me it wasn’t as insane as it sounded. There was nothing I could imagine more beautiful right now than marrying Sebastian. It had taken me three years to get to a point where I had seriously considered marrying Christos, but this was different. If Sebastian couldn’t renew his visa, I’d lose him before we’d even properly had a chance to find out whether it might work. Juliet could come and stay with us. We could set her up here. I had a good job now, my career was relatively stable. I could do this. I had to think it through before I even so much as hinted it to Sebastian, though. But I flooded with a kind of love I hadn’t ever imagined feeling at the thought of it.

  Sebastian arrived back with his drink.

  ‘Let’s change the subject.’

  ‘OK,’ I smiled. ‘Let’s talk about . . .’

  ‘Let’s talk about those suggestive little earrings of yours. Where did you get them from?’

  ‘The V&A,’ I replied hesitantly. ‘What’s suggestive about them?’

  ‘They just intimate threat. And sometimes I like a bit of threat. The right kind of threat, that is.’

  ‘Yeah?’ He was smiling more genuinely now. If this cheered him up I was happy to run with it. ‘A bit of threat, eh? You mean you like to think about women armed with scissors, do you?’

  ‘I do.’ He moved in closer to me, and whispered in my ear, ‘I like to think about castration-play porn, too.’

  ‘Sebastian!’ I gasped, and pulled away from him, only half-laughing. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been watching it.’ I’d seen some stuff in my time as a domme, but this was too extreme. It was the kind of thing I never understood people getting off on.

  ‘No, I haven’t been watching it. I’ve just been watching women’s self-defence videos and wanking to them instead.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know, I love watching women learn to fight. Vengeful women do it for me every time.’

  ‘Interesting. I’ve been thinking about getting my personal trainer to teach me to box.’

  ‘Yep, well, there’s little better than feisty women that might think about taking you on before you beat them down into submission. Feisty women that wave a pair of scissors around in front of your cock . . .’

  Sebastian wasn’t actually being serious. Was he?

  ‘So if you were to wake up one morning to the sight of me brandishing a pair of scissors about your boxers, that would do it for you?’

  ‘Shut up, are you kidding me?! You’ll give me a hard on. But Nichi . . .’ He came in closer to me, I presumed, for a kiss. ‘If you do start boxing you’ll have to wear those earrings. I bet every man who sees them thinks, castration! And then promptly goes home to have a wank over them.’

  I dissolved into a flood of perturbed giggles. Sebastian and I had had a few strange conversations in our time but this was definitely one of the most bizarre.

  ‘Sebastian, let me tell you, as an experienced former pro-domme, castration play is not something I was ever asked for. You and all your imaginary sympathetic friends are on your own with that one!’

  The next day at work, still wearing the scissor earrings, I started to think about the conversation in the pub. Had Sebastian been serious or was it just his slightly edgy way of letting off steam? He’d been increasingly moody of late. Not necessarily with me, but I knew, from the way he described his struggles to come to terms with what had happened between Lana and him, that Sebastian’s dark moods were bile-black. I fondled the earrings and thought again about the night I had ‘switched’ the sex round and grabbed him by the balls, how his face had taken on a kind of peaceful suffering as I taunted him.

  This just sounded too extreme to be a mere stress reliever, though. Imagining and wanking over this kind of extreme play was one thing, but acting it out?

  Then again, hadn’t I enacted mildly violent fantasies for my clients and never flinched when they asked me for things that would have seemed twisted to other people? Wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to moralise about it, just because this was someone I loved? And of all the people to do this, wasn’t I the safest?

  This was another thing, along with the idea of marriage, that I needed to think about thoroughly before I offered it up. I felt some reluctance on both scores but I could think of little I wouldn’t do for Sebastian.

  I decided to wait until I heard from him. These weren’t issues you could discuss over text.

  Five days passed and there was nothing but silence from Sebastian.

  On the fifth day I wondered whether I should ring him. I was becoming genuinely worried about him. Then, on my way home from the office to the tube station, I bumped into Violet.

  ‘Oh God, I haven’t seen you for months, how’s it going?’ She gave me an awkward hug.

  ‘Yeah, good!’ I tried to fake a smile. I didn’t feel so great, but I had no real reason to be overly anxious. Going days without contact, I had come to realise, was just Sebastian’s way.

  ‘So, what’s going on with you and Sebastian? The last thing I heard, you were regularly stepping out together, and then last night I saw him at this gig I went to with Dan. He was in a weird mood and didn’t mention you once. Are you still seeing each other?’

  Jesus Christ, Violet could be candid. I suppose her honesty was to be admired. But right now, it just made me want to cry. My heart hit the ground and lay there flailing about on the pavement, imploring Sebastian to pick it back up

  ‘We’re still seeing each other,’ I replied, a little too sharply. ‘He’s just, well, I guess it’s just casual.’

  ‘You guess or you know?’ Violet tilted her head and looked askance. ‘Look, Nichi, Sebastian is a sweetheart but he’s also got some weird attachment – or rather – detachme
nt issues. Make sure you know where you stand with him.’

  All the way home I played out the conversation I’d had with Violet in my mind. I wanted to believe that Sebastian had just not felt like being sociable when Violet had seen him but that didn’t explain the half of this. It didn’t explain his worsening mood and it certainly didn’t explain why he went AWOL in between dates.

  I thought back to the first night I’d met him and how genial he’d been, with everyone. Was it possible that our connection was nothing special after all? The thought made me feel as if I were losing all sense of what was reasonable. Maybe this was just what he did: formed over-intimate bonds with people he didn’t really care about because . . . because what? Logic kept losing me in the impossible labyrinth of Sebastian’s emotional life.

  Meanwhile, my heart felt as though he’d come over and shaken it up. Despite the incredibly hot sex and the intimacy, nothing seemed to hold his attention for long. I felt as if I had to constantly provoke him in order to remind him to pay me attention. I started to think about the scissor earrings again. They had certainly captivated him. It was a desperate measure but maybe this was what it was going to take to get him to respond to me this time.

  I texted Sebastian. ‘So, Sebastian. I’ve been thinking . . . I’ve got a little game we can play. It will involve me wearing the scissor earrings.’

  Immediately Sebastian replied. ‘Hey! Really? That sounds amazing and no less menacing than it should. When were you thinking?’

  ‘Well, when are you free?’

  ‘I could fit some menace in on Thursday, Friday or Sunday. Or tomorrow, if that isn’t too short notice.’

  I was desperate to see him. I didn’t care if he knew it any more. Before I had time to reply to his text he messaged again. ‘Oh, God, I’m loving this already! Way too hard to meditate!’

  ‘Tomorrow then,’ I replied.

  ‘Tomorrow then! I have just the scissors for the job ;)’

  That night I lay in bed agonising over my decision until well past three. Was this the right thing to do, to try and satisfy one of Sebastian’s ultimate and extreme fantasies? It was a bloody irony that the domme who had so vehemently stayed away from all forms of medical play was now finding herself about to enact perhaps the most sinister one she’d ever heard.