Touch: The Complete Series

by Cara Dee

  "Yes. The bench, correct?"

  I incline my head and put Nicholas's new purchase into my toy bag. Then we make our way downstairs to the club where Chelsea is waiting by the bar.

  "I miss Mark." Nicholas sighs, and with a narrow-eyed look at my smirk, he excuses himself to deal with the new bartender.

  Thankfully, we'll get Mark back in a few weeks. With Evangeline going into labor any day now, he wouldn’t be of much use here, anyway.

  I reach my little sub and lightly caress her neck to get her attention. Since I collared her this past summer, I haven't quite been able to stop touching the inch-wide, platinum choker. It fills me with possessiveness and pride every time I lay eyes on her.

  "Owner." She smiles softly and bows her head a little.

  "My slave." I drop a kiss at her temple and examine her—work habit. In the past couple days, she's had my mind spinning, though I could be reading into things too much. Around her, my radar for changes and concerns is ultrasensitive. "How do you feel?"

  Her smile turns curious. "Good, Master."

  Fair enough. I can shake it off for now, since our play won't be too physically straining. "We have a demo in the Cave." I help her off the stool. "Gather your hair in a low ponytail."

  She quickly removes a rubber tie from her wrist. "Yes, Master."

  She follows me across the crowded dance floor and past the bar in the dungeon. Some ten people who are interested in watching are already waiting outside the stall with the spanking bench. It's one of Cade's contraptions, so nothing has been half-assed. A lower, padded level is waiting for her to kneel on, accompanied by both Velcro straps and shackles.

  "You can lose the clothes, love." I eye her sheer slave dress, then address the viewers. "Questions saved for when the scene is over, please—that includes aftercare. This will be a regular scene for my property, so no interruptions." I nod in thanks as one of the staff walks up to prepare the upper-body vacuum bag for me. "One thing I'll say right now is that for those of you who are thinking about exploring vacuum bags—or beds—keep your level of activity in mind. If you plan for more strenuous play, I'd suggest a hole for breathing rather than the common tube." I show them the silicone mouthpiece that will keep her lips stretched around it, the design not much unlike the one scuba divers use. "Additionally, it's a perfect opportunity for breath play." Because the breathing hole is wide enough to fit a cock.

  This is the first time Chelsea hears of my plans for tonight, and I watch her stand in her graceful position, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes while she reminds herself she can trust me. It's an exquisite surrender to witness.

  I stow away the spare mouthpiece, as the vacuum bag comes equipped with one that’s attached securely. "Are you ready?"

  "Yes, Owner." The words leave her in a whisper, more visible on her lips than anything.

  "My beautiful bunny." I grasp her chin and dip down for a deep kiss. This next bit will be fun for me. When I took her to Sydney and asked her to marry me last fall, she got giggly drunk on champagne and said it would be "superfun" to see my expression if she managed to steal the control device to her wireless bullet. No need to steal anything, though. I'll happily hand it over tonight. "You once said you wanted to be in charge of this one." I retrieve the toy from my pocket and place it in her hand.

  She blinks, then pops her mouth open.

  I chuckle. "Don't get any ideas, little rebel. It'll be your safeword tonight. Switch it on if you reach red. I'm keeping the egg." It'll vibrate in my pocket if it gets to be too much. "Understood?"

  She purses her lips and sends me a rueful little smirk. "Understood, Owner."

  I laugh under my breath and grab the vacuum bag, carefully slipping it over her upper body. "Wrap your lips around the mouthpiece," I instruct, guiding it to her mouth. It leaves a wider breathing hole than the common rubber tubes, and who doesn't enjoy seeing their sub with their mouth open widely enough to insert a cock? "Don't fuck up." I stroke her latex-covered cheek. "You wouldn’t want to lose your only chance to get air."

  She shudders violently, and I bend down to my toy bag, pausing at the roll of bondage tape. Then I shake my head. Duct tape will hurt more to rip off. Duct tape, it is.

  "Burial pose with your arms, sub."

  She rustles underneath the soft latex to comply, crossing her arms over her chest, and I start sealing the edges of the vacuum bag along her waistline. With that done, I usher her closer to the bench.

  I help her kneel on the first step, where I strap her into place with the Velcro. Bent over the bench, ass out, secured, and legs fairly spread, she looks like sin. And she's all mine. I take a few seconds to appreciate my property, then refocus and accept the vacuum that will suck all the air out of the bag.

  She stiffens when I plug it into the valve but relaxes soon enough.

  I caress the soft skin of her sweet ass and watch the last of the air disappear from the vacuum bag. The latex plasters itself to Chelsea's slender form like a second skin, restricting her completely, all while giving the viewers and me the stunning sight of her body shape. The contours of every little curve beg to be touched.

  "Test the vibrator, please," I tell her, and I feel the vibrating signal in my pocket. "Good girl."

  I stare at her, my mind slowing down. Now that I have her where I want, restrained and exposed to me, I want to enjoy her. Ignoring the people outside the open stall, I circle Chelsea and let my eyes drink her in. I trail my fingers along her spine, up between her shoulder blades, and follow the dip of her neck. Over her head, down her forehead. She's an object. Immobile and here solely to serve me. No eyes, no nose, no arms…only a collection of holes.

  I squat down in front of her and finger the edges of the mouthpiece. "Such a beautiful toy to fuck." Slipping a finger inside her mouth, I smile faintly when she automatically tries to close her lips, but the piece of silicone is in the way. Her second choice follows, and she swirls her tongue around my finger. "Whore," I murmur. "Your Master might take that as an invitation." In fact, I do. I stand up and unbuckle my belt, arousal surging to my gut. "Remember the toy can't breathe through its nose now."

  Pushing her limits brings the same high every time. I don't get greedy. A tiny nudge is enough to satisfy me for weeks, and I savor each opportunity. Removing my belt altogether, I get my trousers and underwear down my hips. I fist my semihard cock and ease it past the mouthpiece. Once she knows what's happening, I inch out again to let her take a deep breath. Then I push in once more and let out a sigh as she immediately coats me in saliva.

  "That’s it. Get me hard." I stroke her head, the smooth latex giving me ideas for future fetish outfits for her. "Bloody hell, pet—" I chuckle huskily as her teeth graze my cock carefully. Making up for what she can't do with her lips at the moment. "Fuck." I withdraw from her mouth and stroke myself, then tuck my cock back into my pants. She's ready to be used, and I'm more than ready to use her.

  After locating another vibrating little egg, I get down on one knee between her spread legs and drop a wet kiss along the slit of her pussy. That makes her jump and gasp, the sound just barely reaching me over the music. I hum in pleasure and indulge greedily. Deep, long kisses and firm licks. That's my girl. I feel and see her muscles working, one shiver setting off another. Her attempts at squirming only fuel me to drive her mad.

  As I switch on the little vibrator, I suck her clit between my teeth and flick the tip of my tongue over it. Drops of her juices form at her opening, and inserting the egg takes no effort. It slips right in while Chelsea lets out a choked moan.

  "Clench down, little rebel," I order. "If it slips out, I'll have no choice but to assume you don't want to come."

  I rub my mouth to hide my grin and reach into my toy bag for my most recent purchase, a cat-o'-nine-tails Chelsea's quickly come to hate. The long leather lashes sting enough as they are, but the knotted ends take the pain to a new level.

  I'm not sure what I love the most, her sharp gasps and cries when she r
eceives the pain, the marks the strands leave behind, or the mindfuck she goes through because, in the end, the pain that makes her beg me to stop will eventually get her off.

  I give her no warning. After pushing up the sleeves of my button-down, I pull back the whip and flick it forward to let the leather knots scatter across her ass. Chelsea shrieks and goes rigid, and I continue while the initial pain has her paralyzed. Over and over, I paint her fading tan with red blotches and dotted welts.

  Her screams have morphed into breathless sobs by the time I'm done—with this implement. She is far from finished. With the jagged hurt in place to send fire through her, I retrieve my heavy suede flogger.

  The change in the atmosphere is instant. The first strike of the flogger gives her a sudden shock, and then… A drawn-out moan escapes her, and I feel the same sense of pleasure coursing through me. In a figure eight motion of my wrist, I make the strands rain down in quick succession, creating a rhythm that never fails to sweep her away.

  Hell, it has a similar effect on me. Everything else disappears. My senses sharpen, Top space setting in, emotions flowing like a steady current between us. It's an indescribable feeling.

  Although she can't move her upper body or her legs, she writhes as best she can. She swivels her hips and pushes out her perfect ass more and more for every mark I give her. I reach my limit when her bottom and the backs of her thighs glow pink and red.

  I can't trust her to safeword if she's in subspace regardless, so I discard the flogger and find a condom. "Test the vibrator twice, Chelsea," I command as I slick up my cock with coconut oil. My trousers are hanging off my hips, but I feel two signals after a couple seconds. "Quality fuck toy, aren't you?" Coming up behind her, I wipe off the residue of the oil by giving her pussy a hard squeeze that makes her moan through a gasp. She's a sodden mess. "A sweet, cock-hungry cunt, too."

  I grip the base of my erection and rub the melting oil over her ass, then slowly but surely apply more pressure. Relax for me, love. I groan under my breath as I sink deeper and deeper into her tight little ass.

  A shudder rips down my spine. Pressing downward, I feel the vibrations from the egg inside her pussy. I pull out slowly, then push in deep and hard. All her anal-slut training is paying off. I fuck her in long strokes and get inspired when I see her trying to arch her back. The vacuum bag won't let her get far, but something will.

  I get my leather belt, fist both ends, and loop it around her neck. Next time I push my hips forward, I yank her back and hiss at the pleasure exploding inside me. Chelsea chokes and clamps down, all her muscles taut, her back creating a beautiful curve.

  It sets the masochist off, and I lose it. I growl a curse and fuck her through her climax. Bloody hell. Another groan leaves me when I see her gushing between her lovely thighs. My chest expands with a deep breath, and the intoxicating scent of her G-spot orgasm makes my mouth water.

  "Messy fuck," I grunt. Releasing the belt, I grab her hips tightly and slam in harder, deeper, faster. Her muscles continue to constrict around me, no doubt sensitive and itching to get away from the buzzing toy that’s still inside her. Unfortunately for her, I love the sensations too much. My head tips back as my own orgasm approaches. My thrusts grow rockier and irregular, shudders raising goose bumps across my arms and back.

  Moments later, the release crashes down on me, and I shove my cock deep inside once more before I slump forward, my damp forehead hitting the dip between her shoulder blades.

  "Fucking…" I pant.

  This might be the only downside to playing at Switch. After I'm finished, I just want to be at home in our bed and have Chelsea cuddled up next to me. I blink tiredly and swallow dryly, forcing myself to function. Removing her vibrator comes first.

  With a tilt of my head, gratitude fills me. Someone's closed the curtain to our stall, probably one of the DMs, so we can have a moment alone. That makes it marginally better.

  I pull out and make quick work of ridding the condom and zipping up my trousers. I'll put on the belt later. Twisting the valve to the vacuum bag, it's like watching a lung slowly fill with air. No longer clinging to her like second skin, the latex is more loose-fitting.

  Once I've unstrapped her legs, I dig out a soft hand towel from my bag and swipe it up the insides of Chelsea's thighs. She squirms and whimpers in response.

  "You please me very much, pet." I drop a kiss to her reddened ass before straightening. "This might hurt a bit." I help her stand on two shaky legs and pinch the corner of the tape. She knows it's coming, and she braces herself. Then I tear it off all around her in one fluid motion, and Chelsea lets out a weak sob and stiffens further. "All done, baby. It's gone." I drop the sticky tape on the floor and roll up the vacuum bag, inch by inch exposing flushed skin.

  She's shaking, panting, weeping silently, and shivering as I let the latex fall to the ground. With barely any strength left in her, she merely collapses in my arms, and I carry her over to a comfortable chair in the corner.

  "I've got you." I hold her to me, positioning her sideways across my lap, and press a kiss in her hair. It's damp with sweat, and I can imagine the rush of cold shocking her system after being locked in an airless plastic bag with very little give. "You did so well, my love." I stroke her back soothingly, spotting the gooseflesh on her shoulder. "Want a blanket?"

  She shakes her head and burrows in closer. "S'nice," she croaks. "God—I feel all weird."

  "How so?" I push back some hair that's escaped her ponytail. "Walk me through it."

  She sniffles, another tremor rocking her. "It hurts to move, but I feel itchy and squirmy. I want to cry and laugh, and I'm exhausted and full of energy at the same time."

  I smile softly and lift her chin, needing a quick kiss. "Messes with your head a little, doesn’t it?" Realizing she's still clutching the remote control for the temporary safeword device in her hand, I gently pry her fingers open and take it from her.

  "A lot, Master." She giggles through a fresh round of tears. Then she lowers her gaze, her vulnerability shining brightly. "It was suffocating even though I could breathe. I hated it. But then…God, I came so hard."

  I chuckle quietly and give her a tight hug. "How I adore getting inside your beautiful head, Chelsea. You're a delight, you know that?"

  Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and she buries her face against my neck, eliciting another warm chuckle from me.

  Knowing her past issues with letting her guard down only makes the moment that much sweeter. She lets me comfort her and relaxes more and more with each passing minute.

  "You smell delicious," I murmur, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. "Sex and latex." So much sex. A bit of coconut from the lube and a hint of the perfume she bought in Rome. Mouthwatering.

  When she tilts her head up, I capture her mouth in a passionate, unhurried kiss and let my hands roam her body. And despite the intimacy, it's peaceful and soothing rather than arousing. At the moment, anyway.

  "I guess…we have people to face, Owner?"

  I hum and cup one of her breasts, loving the weight of it in my hand. "In a minute. It's my duty to make sure every inch of you is okay first."

  Her soft laughter makes me grin.

  *

  The serenity is still there when I wake up the next morning to the smells of coffee, blueberry pancakes, and strawberries.

  "Good morning, Master."

  I manage to mutter something unintelligible and haul her close to me for a round of snuggles. My shift at the free clinic doesn’t start until ten, and one sleepy glance at the clock tells me we have two hours 'til then.

  "Mmm…" I slide a hand down her ass and crack a tired smirk at her noise of complaint. Someone is sore this morning. "You spoil me, slave."

  "I love spoiling you." There's a smile in her voice that wraps me in warmth, but there's something else, too.

  So I force my eyes to open, and I'm quick to frown. Something is wrong. "How are you feeling?" I brush a hand to her forehead; she doesn’t feel
feverish. The concerns from yesterday are back with a vengeance, though.

  "I don't know," she replies thoughtfully. "Weird. Sensitive. Like, my skin."

  "Hm." Propping myself up on an elbow, I lift away the covers and inspect her body. As always when we're home, she's dressed in a skimpy thong and her collar. Nothing else. If she felt cold, she would've told me. "Have you dropped from the scene last night?"

  She shakes her head. "I don’t think I will." Amusement makes her silvery violet eyes spark up. "You're in your doctor mode."

  Possibly. I pinch her nipple.

  She gasps—more than she normally would. "Ouch." Interesting. "I bring you breakfast in bed, and you pinch me? Nice."

  "Hush. That twist probably went straight to your little cunt." I stroke her breasts, down her stomach. She squirms, ticklish and more sensitive than usual. "Are you eating as you should? How's your appetite?"

  "I'm not getting sick, my handsome worrier. I don’t think."

  I raise a brow. "Do I really need to repeat myself?"

  Properly chastised, she corrects herself. "I'm sorry, Master. My appetite is pretty normal—except for struggling a little with my diet."

  What the fuck? Chelsea and I both enjoy the outdoors and strive to lead healthy lives; I've never had the need to adjust her diet or suggest other options. She knows moderation and values proper, home-cooked meals with healthy ingredients much, much higher than anything store-bought and processed. Wolfing down pizza and greasy goodness is reserved for those rare days we just say fuck it and land on the couch in front of Netflix. Or if we have plans with mates.

  "Since when are you on a diet?" I do my best not to scowl, but this is news to me. I don’t handle surprises very well.

  Chelsea widens her eyes. "Since I gained two pounds last month."

  My mouth twitches, and I hope it's not wishful thinking anymore. I hope. Fucking hell, I hope with all my heart. "Nonsense." I can't even pretend to sound stern at this point. "So why are you struggling with this silly diet?"