by Jay Lawrence
CHAPTER V
"Unpin your hair and let it fall naturally over your shoulders."
Antoine sat in a chair in the corner of his room. As instructed, Amber knelt on the huge elaborate bed, her eyes closed. Carefully, she extracted the pins from her thick black hair and it tumbled down in a heavy mass. She desperately wanted to look at Antoine, to see what was happening but he insisted she must not.
"You will not look me in the face. Remember, you're not my equal now. We are in our own little world and the rules are different. I make the rules and you obey them. Your eyes will be tightly closed when I say so and downcast at all other times. Understand?"
"Yes, Master."
The thick, luxurious quilt felt wonderful beneath Amber's knees, as soft and yielding as the role she had chosen to play. She longed to check her reflection in the mirror. Was her hair a mess?
"You look beautiful. I'm very proud of you, Amber."
Amber's eyes misted and the floral pattern of the quilt became blurred.
"Thank you."
"Thank you, Master."
"Sorry. Thank you, Master."
"Better. I know you want to be obedient, Amber. I can see it in your face."
Antoine's words seemed to slide over Amber like a seductive, ensnaring tide. Again, her heart began to beat faster and her nipples pressed insistently against the tight bodice of the beautiful corset. She wanted to glance in the mirror, check her hair, observe how Antoine's dominance was making her look. Were her cheeks as flushed as they felt? It was torture. She was painfully aware of his steady gaze, firmly fixed upon her, like a benevolent cat watching a mouse. Was her hair standing on end? She thought of the styling products she had used and how they should be brushed out, then cursed herself for being so silly.
He said I was beautiful. That should be enough.
Antoine crossed his legs and folded his arms. Amber stared down at the plump white flesh of her upper thighs and the tops of her sheer black stockings. The silky garters of the corset snaked over her pale skin, scarlet on ivory.
The urge to snatch just one brief look in the mirror grew into an obsession. Still, Antoine sat and watched his submissive, saying nothing, his eyes focused only on her. Unable to stand the tension any longer, Amber tossed her head, simultaneously stealing the quickest of looks in the cheval mirror near the bed. A fleeting image of tousled hair and blushing cheeks was her reward and her heart sank. Antoine sighed.
"Oh dear. Just when you were doing so well. Did I not tell you that you are beautiful, Amber? That should be enough in itself. You have no need to check your reflection."
Amber gasped as Antoine rose from the chair. His hands felt cool and very strong as he pushed her forwards so that she crouched on all fours. Swiftly, shockingly, he gave her three sharp smacks on her bottom. Amber cried out, more in surprise than distress. Antoine's voice was quiet but menacing in her ear.
"Naughty girls who disobey their Master's orders have their bare bottoms spanked hard until they cry."
Amber's stomach turned over and her panties moistened. Antoine's hand returned to her bottom and caressed her buttocks through the skimpy scarlet panties.
"You have the most wonderful bottom for spanking, my dear. Full and smooth. Put your hands on top of the bed frame."
Surprised, Amber did as she was told, placing her hands on the ornate brass framework. Coolly, Antoine removed a length of black silk from his pocket and bound her wrists to the frame. Amber began to panic.
"I can't move, Antoine!"
"I can't move, Master. Of course you can't. Bondage isn't about freedom. It's about the ecstasy of restraint."
"Oh!"
Ineffectually, Amber tugged at her bound hands. The harder she tried to disengage herself, the tighter the silk binding became.
"Stop it, Amber. You'll hurt yourself and I don't want that. I want your submission. Don't be afraid. I'm going to show you the greatest pleasure you've ever known."
"Master, please..."
Amber was frightened. She trusted Antoine yet having her wrists bound was more than a little unnerving. His hands moved from her bottom over the lacing of her corset to the nape of her neck. Despite her tension she shivered uncontrollably. Her position was animal-like, exposed and vulnerable, with her hips thrust up, presented for spanking.
"Close your eyes and focus on my touch, Amber. Let yourself go."
Firm, controlling hands stroked Amber's wild hair then slid over her naked shoulders to caress her breasts. She felt her nipples come alive beneath his fingers and he sought them out, gently easing them from their satin lair. Her large, soft breasts swung free and she moaned in intense pleasure.
"Good. You have fabulous breasts, Amber."
Antoine continued playing with Amber's nipples, pinching and rolling them between his forefinger and thumb until they were as hard as she had ever known. Sweet juice soaked her sheer panties and a pulsing sensation ticked deep between her thighs.
"I'm going to spank your naughty bare bottom until it's as red as your corset and then I'm going to take you from behind."
Amber couldn't reply. Her body was awash with sensation. Waves of intense pleasure rolled from her breasts to her swollen, honey-slick clitoris. All she could do was gasp, her crimson lips parted, her spine arched. Antoine's hands returned to her hips and with a sudden, decisive movement he wrenched her panties down, exposing her naked trembling buttocks.
"Spank me!"
She couldn't believe she had said it. It was as if she was a girl in a risqué movie, not she, boring small town Amber.
"Please. Spank me, Master!"
"Beg for it, Amber."
Antoine's hands were in her hair again, they cupped and squeezed her breasts, harder than before, insistent, demanding.
"Please, Master. Please spank me."
"Please, Master. Spank my naughty bare bottom."
"Please, Master. Spank my naughty bare bottom."
"Good girl."
There was a brief pause then Antoine's hand made contact with Amber's shivering bottom. It felt sharp as an insect bite but good too.
"Oh!"
Smack, smack, smack. The spanks fell hard and fast on Amber's squirming, wriggling buttocks. The sharp stinginess rapidly gave way to a deeper warmth.
"Oh! It's good!"
"You deserve every single smack."
On and on the spanking continued. As Antoine had predicted, Amber's bottom grew as red as the corset. The heat and intimacy felt wonderful. His hand was so close to her vulva yet not quite close enough. Amber found herself pushing her buttocks up to meet his hand, offering herself, greeting each tangy slap with an answering bump and grind. It felt incredible. Her heavy breasts bounced rhythmically and musk-scented juice dribbled down her inner thighs. Her engorged clitoris was about to burst with the orgasm of her lifetime. And then, just as Amber was bracing herself to let go and come as she had never come before, Antoine stopped.
"No! Don't stop!"
The wonderful sensations retreated and Amber bit her bottom lip in frustration.
"Why now? I can't bear this!"
Angrily, she tugged at her hands but the firmly wrapped silk held her hard and fast. The cool air of the bedroom seemed to taunt her fiery bottom with tormenting caresses. He had to let her come. He had to! How could he be so cruel?
Antoine moved away from the bed and Amber twisted round to watch what he was doing. The room was dark but for a lamp on a bedside table. There was the soft click of a closet door being opened and the swishing sound of some item being retrieved. Again, Amber's heart began to pound with nerves and anticipation. She thought of whips and canes and floggers like the ones she'd seen at the Club Justine. She didn't want such harsh treatment. She needed to come...
Antoine stood at the foot of the bed, a riding crop in one hand.
"Lower your eyes, missy. You're disobeying me again. I might have to thrash you for that."
His voice had changed, become more stern. Amber shivered,
her arms and shoulders creeping with gooseflesh. She dropped her eyes as instructed, seeing nothing but her outstretched arms and firmly bound wrists attached to the swirling curlicues of the brass bed frame. She was incredibly wet between her legs and insufferably frustrated. If her hands had been free she would have snatched the crop from Antoine's grasp and snapped it across his chest.
"Frustrated?"
The bully! Amber gritted her teeth.
"Just a little. I've never felt like this before."
Antoine moved around the bed and Amber gasped as he reached down and pushed one finger deep inside her body.
"You're slick, Amber. So ready for a good hard fucking."
Amber flinched at the rough word. It was a common term but she was a polite young woman. Yet it was true. She wanted to be taken.
Antoine pushed his moist, honey-musk scented finger between Amber's parted lips.
"Lick it. See how good you taste? That's because you're more excited now than you have ever been in your life. Am I correct?"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, Master."
Again, Antoine pushed a finger deep inside Amber, locating her cervix and causing her to cry out and grind her hips over his probing hand. It felt so good. Would he let her come? Or was he teasing her again? She began to rhythmically clench and relax her hips, trying to bring herself to orgasm. His hand moved away and returned to her mouth. It was true – she did taste and smell good. Sweet and spicy.
"You need a taste of the crop, Amber."
Amber had forgotten the riding crop and she tensed.
"Please don't hurt me!"
Antoine placed the riding crop between Amber's lips.
"Feel. Smooth and pliable. It will sting more than my hand but you are already very warm. Receptive."
Amber's tongue explored the shaft of the crop. It smelled of leather. Antoine slowly slid it out of her mouth then caressed her nipples with the leather loop at the tip.
"You're my little pony girl. What a lovely mane you have."
The crop lifted up a heavy strand of Amber's hair then let it fall. It slowly traced the outline of her body, from shoulders to breasts, spine, bottom and thighs. After a few seconds of this treatment, Amber found herself almost longing to experience the sharper sting of the crop against her already burning skin.
Snap!
Amber yelped. The crop was extremely stingy, like a sharp insect bite. If she had been able to, she would have rubbed her bottom with her hand.
Snap!
"Oh, mercy!"
"My little pony girl. Stay still and good and I promise you I will fuck you hard when you've taken your strokes. But not before."
Antoine's voice was slightly hoarse and Amber realized that he too was becoming excited. She thrilled to his voice as never before.
Snap!
It was hard to stay still but she tried her very best, squeezing her buttocks hard against the knife-like onslaught of the crop. After the first few strokes had fallen, she began to almost enjoy it.
"Good girl. Submit to me, Amber. Submit completely."
"Yes, Master."
She realized, with a shock and a surge of pleasure, that she needed to open herself to him. Instinctual as a wild animal, she spread her thighs and offered her naked bottom and vulva for him to take as he wished. His breathing was steady but heavy as he continued to snap the crop over Amber's buttocks.
"You want to be taken, don't you, girl? You need to be used."
Amber groaned. Another orgasm was rising deep inside her. She couldn't lose it again. Please let him allow her to have it.
"Yes, Master!"
Antoine threw the crop down and caressed Amber's smarting bottom with the very tips of his fingers. She almost convulsed in pleasure. There was heat, pain, pleasure, sharpness, softness, all bound together in a swirling whirlpool of delicious submission. She was being carried away by it all. They both were.
"I'm going to take you, Amber. Fuck you hard."
Amber heard the brief sounds of a zipper being unfastened and the rustle of a condom packet. She was trembling violently. If he didn't do it she would scream, she knew she would. She would go quite crazy.
"I'm going to take your sweet little pussy."
Amber blushed at the word but she didn't care. She felt like a cat on heat so maybe she was a pussy. She felt the bed sink as Antoine moved behind her. The head of his shaft pressed insistently against her dripping vulva. His breath was hot and moist against the nape of her neck as he nuzzled her with his lips and whispered how beautiful she was. The, with one hard, powerful motion, he was deep inside her.
Amber cried out with pleasure. Antoine's arms encircled her, holding her close so she felt the coolness of his shirt against the exposed skin beneath her corset lacing. His hands cupped her breasts and she gasped, squirming around his rigid shaft, opening herself wide for him to take her. He did not move, simply massaged her nipples until she wanted to scream. She needed him to take her hard, to thrust his cock into her hard and fast. Dirty words surged through her mind and she didn't care. She wanted him to fuck her, fuck her with his great hard cock. She pushed back against him with all her strength, wriggled her bottom suggestively and groaned in lust and despair. Antoine continued playing with her fat, swollen nipples. She looked down at them, engorged and brown, his deft, tormenting fingers playing her body like a musical instrument. Her arms stretched forward in an inverted V. She was still trapped, bound, unable to escape, with this gorgeous, wicked guy doing exactly what he damn well pleased with her. Exactly...
"You have such big, juicy tits, Amber. I love to play with them. I wonder how you'd like nipple clamps."
As if to illustrate, Antoine pinched Amber's nipples quite hard between his forefingers and thumbs. A strange sensation writhed in the pit of her stomach and she felt herself relax again. His cock was even harder than before. He was enjoying pinching her nipples. Amber stopped grinding her hips against Antoine's groin. She had forgotten the point of the game. He called the shots, not she. It was her role to comply, obey, submit.
"That's better. Remember – I give and you receive."
As soon as she ceased her squirming, Antoine began to thrust, hard, fast and deep inside her. With her limited experience of sex, it seemed quite overwhelming, like nothing she had previously known, but it felt incredible. He was so strong. The sense of being taken and used was as exciting as the powerful thrusts that soon found an answering response in her hot, slippery depths. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Her breasts flopped wantonly against the bodice of the corset and her hair streamed wildly over her face. It felt so good. It felt so incredibly good. Thrust, thrust, thrust. His hands were on her hips, holding her fast, keeping her moving in time with his punishing rhythm. Thrust, thrust, thrust. She was going to come. His breathing was ragged. Thrust, thrust, thrust. His cock felt huge, swollen, hard as an iron bar. Thrust, thrust, thrust. She was going to come... She was going to come... She was going to come...
Amber screamed. The most intense orgasm of her life broke over her like a tidal wave. Her whole body seemed to be involved, beyond the confines of her wet, velvety pussy. Every fragment of her being was on fire.
"Oh yes! Oh yes!"
At her heels, Antoine shouted his own orgasm, pumping into her so hard and deep that Amber yelped. Slowly, shuddering slightly with aftershocks, he withdrew himself and she felt sorrowful when his body left hers. In the mirror by the bed, a bright-eyed, tousled haired, bare breasted young woman in a scarlet corset looked wildly beautiful, transformed by the primitive magic of submission. Her hands were bound with black silk to the bed frame and that, oddly enough, was the most sensual thing of all.
* * * *
"Everything is happening so fast. It's like a whirlwind. I'm sure I'm going to wake up soon. Perhaps I should pinch myself."
Antoine squeezed Amber's knee.
"Leave the pinching to me!"
They were having lunch at Fisherman's Wharf after a busy morni
ng wandering up and down some of the steepest streets Amber had ever encountered. The line-ups for the famous cable cars were so long they had decided to walk everywhere. Amber loved the ringing metallic sound of the moving cable running beneath the pavement. She loved everything about San Francisco.
"One order of clam chowder. One order of crab cakes."
A waitress brought their meal and Amber picked up her soup spoon. She realized that she was very hungry. It had been a very long and incredible night. Vignettes entered her mind when she least expected them and shocked her with their passion and intensity. The red high-heeled shoes. How she had allowed Antoine to bind her, wrists to ankles, then insert a small glass dildo into her virgin, vulnerable bottom. The scarlet satin corset. She had let Antoine pull on the cords until her waist diminished by several inches and her breath came shallow and fast as she knelt at his feet, her head bowed, her body a perfect hourglass.
The soup was hot and delicious. Amber helped herself to a slice of bread and tried to focus on the meal. She was already extremely aroused. Just being with Antoine aroused her. The way he looked at her seemed to render her naked, totally exposed. She couldn't hide anything from him.
"You look as if you need a cold shower, Amber. Behave yourself. You're squirming in your seat as if you've wet your panties."
"I think I have. Sorry. I keep thinking about last night."
Antoine grinned.
"Good, wasn't it? I knew it would work, you know, when you went sprawling on the rug at the Raimonda. It was the look on your face when I helped you up. You were like a little girl who'd spilt her milk on the carpet. All pink-cheeked and guilty looking. I can't tell you how much it turned me on."
Amber smiled ruefully.
"I'm glad something good came out of my embarrassing myself!"
Antoine reached across the table and stroked Amber's free hand. His touch was electric and she almost spilled her soup into her lap.
"Many good things happen when you let yourself go, Amber. Remember that. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Amber gazed out of the restaurant window and watched the gulls wheeling over the docks. Fishing boats were unloading their catch. Antoine had caught her the previous night. She was the catch of the day. There was a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was she going too far, too fast? Would it all crash and burn with the sheer speed of unfolding events? She remembered the first tarot reader's comment about "keeping her feet on the ground". And she hadn't. She was flying high. In a hot air balloon? A niggling question burned her tongue more than the soup and she had to spit it out, however unpalatable it might sound.