Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  Up against one wall was a massage table. Ordinary enough. Except this one had leather cuffs at each corner and leather straps hanging off the sides. In one corner stood a bed with metal bars at the head and foot, complete with several sets of handcuffs.

  Another contraption consisted of a wide, padded bench with an upholstered support that sloped downward, like an upside-down chair. The support narrowed so that the submissive’s breasts would be hanging free on either side and not be crushed beneath her. The person kneeling on the padded supports on either side of the bench would be bent forward and down, leaving her bum high in the air, her pussy and ass fully spread and exposed.

  A variety of whips, floggers, leather riding crops, hoods, masks, spreader bars of varying lengths, and coils of hemp rope hung on the walls. A large armoire stood against the far wall. The two doors at the top were open, revealing a wide variety of dildos, gags, and other sex toys. Full-length mirrors on moveable stands lined the walls, so that both of them could watch everything that Jesse did to her. There were other things, too, but her vision had blurred and she could no longer see clearly. Fear was sucking at her, threatening to paralyze her. She could not prevent the whimpering little moan that ripped from her throat.

  Jesse watched the various emotions playing across her face. “Are you too afraid to do this, Sarah?” he asked quietly. To his utter relief, she shook her head.

  “No,” she said firmly. And she meant it. She wasn’t afraid. Afraid was way too mild a word to describe the chaotic jumble of emotions she was feeling. First there was sheer, abject terror. She could feel the panic hammering through her veins with every frantic beat of her heart. But it was much more than just that.

  There was also pure, primal lust. And an arousal so ferocious, so powerful, so all consuming, she was having trouble wrapping her mind around the magnitude of it. Her body was tingling all over, tightening as if getting ready to burst. Her skin was blistering hot, as if she’d just stepped out of a sauna. She could smell herself, a rich, pungent aroma that invaded her nostrils like a siren’s song, turning her body into a morass of needy nerve endings that were screaming for the pleasure—even the pain—that she knew was coming.

  After all, those whips and floggers and crops were not just there for decoration. They were there to be used. On her! Unsure of how she felt about that, she released her breath in an audible whoosh. Licking her pussy juice off of chairs was one thing. Being whipped was an entirely different matter. So great was her terror, she was shaking uncontrollably.

  While she struggled to get her quaking limbs under control, Jesse walked to the armoire. Opening drawers, he withdrew various items and arranged them on a metal tray. He carried the tray over to the gymnastics beam. Grabbing a folding valet table like those used in restaurants, he snapped it open and placed the tray on top. Then, picking up two of the items, he said softly, “Come here, Sarah.”

  Dutifully, she walked over to stand in front of him, making note of the items out of the corner of her eye. One was a long, black silk scarf. The other was a strip of soft black leather around two inches wide.

  “I want you to stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind your back grasping opposite elbows, head up, eyes straight ahead.” He watched her move into position as directed. “Arch your back more. Good girl. This position is known as ‘Present.’ Whenever I say that word, you are to stop what you’re doing and stand just like this and await further instructions, do you understand?”

  Holy Moley! She nodded, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Mojave Desert.

  “Lift your hair,” he ordered as he flipped one end of the scarf over his right shoulder.

  Her arms lifted, gathering her flowing hair and raising it off her neck. The movement thrust her breasts forward prominently, and Jesse couldn’t resist bending down and pulling one hard nipple into his mouth. She gasped as lightning jolted from her nipple straight to her clit, setting it on fire. Ignoring her tiny moans and whimpers, he suckled briefly, tugging on the tight peak with his teeth before straightening back up and fastening the collar around her neck, locking it in place with a tiny padlock. He curved his fingers down behind it. It was a perfect fit, snug, but not tight. Attached to the leather were two metal D rings, one in front and one in back.

  Risking a sideways glance at him from beneath her lashes, she met his hooded, black gaze.

  “You will wear this collar whenever we’re in this room,” he said hoarsely, seared with a primal lust at seeing it around her neck. He’d never collared a woman before and he’d designed this one especially for Sarah. “It’s a symbol of my ownership of you. It will be on a hook just inside the door. Every time we enter this room, you will hand it to me and wait for me to put it on you. Understood?”

  “Yes, Jesse.”

  “In this room, you are to address me as ‘Sir.’”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “In this room, as in the bedroom, I am in charge. Here I decide what happens to you.”

  Her pulse fluttered in her throat. “What if I don’t agree?” she asked, striving for a calm she was far from feeling.

  “You are a submissive, Sarah, it is not your place to agree. Your place is to accept. And trust me to always do what is best for you. Every order you obey is a conscious decision to submit to me. It is a choice, and that choice is what empowers me. That is the power exchange—usin’ your choices to bring you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known. Because, your pleasure is my pleasure. And don’t forget, sugar, you have the ultimate control. Just say ‘yellow’ and I’ll slow down. But if you say ‘red,’ everythin’ stops.”

  Her sigh was shaky. “Okay. I guess.”

  He chuckled. “Relax, sugar, you’re havin’ sex, here, not gettin’ a root canal. You might wanna sound a little more enthusiastic.”

  “Sorry, Jesse. I’m just—a little scared, I guess.”

  “You’ll do fine.”

  He tugged at the black silk scarf, letting it slide slowly, sensuously off his shoulder. It made a tiny sibilant hiss. “This blindfold will help you to focus,” Jesse said softly. His voice sounded in her ear, low and gravelly and rough, throbbing with sheer masculine power. It vibrated through her body, sending tiny little shocks skating over her nerve endings. “Removin’ your sight intensifies all your other senses.” It would also, he knew, keep her off-balance, unable to anticipate his actions. Deftly he placed the silk scarf over her eyes and tied it tightly behind her head.

  Blackness enveloped her, snatching her breath away. She stood, not breathing, her head slightly tilted, waiting for the sense of panic to subside. Her stomach lurched, flooding her slit with hot juice.

  “All right, Sarah, before we start, do you remember your safe word?”

  “Yes, Sir, ‘red.’” She was shivering so hard her teeth were chattering. But she wasn’t cold. Nowhere near cold. She was about as far from cold as it was possible to get. Every inch of her skin was blazing with fire, her body so hot she felt scorched. Like she was standing in the middle of an erupting volcano.

  Jesse nodded. “If you say the word ‘red,’ I will stop instantly. Even if I’m in the middle of fuckin’ you, I will pull out immediately and it will all be over. And I do mean over. If you say that word, Sarah, everythin’ stops. We will discuss what happened and the reasons you needed me to stop. You will not be punished. You will never be punished for usin’ your safe word durin’ a scene. However, if you do use it, there will be no more Play Room, no more orgasms, for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Twenty-four hours!” she squeaked, jerking involuntarily against his hold on her collar.

  His fingers tightened. “Twenty-four hours,” he repeated. “In the meantime, all of the rules will still apply. You will still be naked, ready to present whatever part of your body I wish to use for my pleasure—your mouth, your breasts, your cunt, your ass. But you will not be allowed to come until the twenty-four hours are up and I give you permission.”

  The breath left her body in a s
harp explosion of both fear and a hunger so rabid it was driving her insane. Twenty-four hours of constant sexual stimulation without coming? Holy Moley! He wouldn’t need to punish her for using her safe word. Being deprived of orgasms for twenty-four hours would be punishment enough.

  “And if you come before I say you can, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded jerkily. She was trembling so hard, she could barely stand.

  “Say it,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Jes—um, Sir.”

  “Good girl. And masturbatin’, of course, is strictly forbidden. You are never to touch yourself unless I expressly order you to. Your body belongs to me and your pleasure is my gift to you.” He released his hold on her collar and curved his large hand around the slender column of her neck. Turning her around, he pulled her into his arms and slid his hands down her naked back to grip her ass cheeks.

  She let out a soft cry when one of his hands slid through her crease, pressing against the tiny rosebud opening with one thick finger. Her cunt contracted almost painfully at his touch.

  “Do you trust me, Sarah?” he asked, his voice a throaty hum in her ear.

  “Yes, Sir.” She gulped.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “I‘m sure I do, but my mind is pretty much oatmeal right now.”

  He chuckled. “Where are you?”

  “Green, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He tightened his grip on the back of her neck, forcing her head up and her body closer to his. Her blood-engorged nipples just barely brushed against the rough fabric of his T-shirt, making them swell and ache with an electrical intensity. She could feel every pounding beat of her heart pulsing in them, making them throb with painful pleasure.

  He stepped away and she almost cried out at the sudden absence of sensation, the sudden loss of stimulation. “Give me your wrists.” As she held them up, he snapped the wide leather cuffs with the fleece lining around each one, then padlocked them together. Quickly attaching them to a length of chain hanging from a pulley in the ceiling, he pulled down on a rope, raising her arms above her head, pulling her up until she was standing on tiptoe.

  He threaded the rope through a bolt in the wall and tied it off before taking her in his embrace. Behind the rough denim of his jeans, his cock was a thick, hard bulge pressing against the bunching muscles of her belly. “I’m gonna kiss you, Sarah. When I’m done, you will no longer be allowed to speak except to answer a direct question or to say your safe word. Do you understand?”

  Chapter Six

  Tears stung her eyes behind the blindfold as she nodded her head. God, what was happening to her? She wanted this. She needed this. This was what had always been missing from her sex life, what little of it there’d been—Jesse Colter and the wonderful, awful things he was about to do to her. “Yes, Sir, I understand. I trust you.”

  His heart dropped to his knees, nearly staggering him. He stared at her, overcome by the emotions rampaging through him. Emotions he had never felt for any other human being in his entire life. Emotions he never thought he could feel for any other human being. Until her. Until now. And now they were raging through him like wildfire, threatening to annihilate him, leaving nothing behind but cinders scattering in the wind.

  He slanted his head and took her mouth in a kiss so achingly gentle it robbed her of her very breath. No tongues. No teeth. Just a sipping, tasting exploration of her soft, wet lips that wrenched a moan from the depths of her throat. A kiss that fused her soul to his, binding her to him for all eternity.

  Christ! Jesse lifted his head, ending the kiss abruptly. He’d felt the sizzle all the way to his bones, as if he had just been struck by a bolt of lightning. He felt singed, scoured by arcing blue flames. It was a miracle his hair wasn’t standing on end and smoking. Or maybe it was. He shook his head, blinking his eyes, trying to clear his vision. Slightly dazed, he pulled away from her, looking down at her naked, voluptuous body through half-lidded eyes.

  Her skin was creamy silk, flushed a lovely shade of pink with the force of her arousal.

  Her breasts were full and swollen, her pink nipples hard, elongated points, darkened with the blood pumping through them, jutting from the pebbly areolas surrounding them. He could see the beat of her pulse fluttering beneath the translucent skin of her left breast. “Jesus, Sarah,” he whispered reverently, “your body is sheer perfection.”

  Her bare pussy and the tops of her thighs glistened with the slick moisture flowing from her womb. And he could tell from her tiny, shuddering breaths that it wouldn’t take much to bring her to an explosive release. A release he was going to enjoy denying her, even as he drove her mad with stimulation.

  Shit, she responded to him so beautifully. He had never known a woman so quickly aroused and so easily brought to so many multiple orgasms before. He was looking forward to this session. To tormenting her. To sucking and licking her delicious little clit, making her writhe and moan and beg him to let her come. To keeping her clamoring senses teetering on a knife’s edge until he allowed her to come with an orgasm so intense she’d think she was being blown apart.

  But first…Eyes glittering, he lifted his hands to cup her breasts. A tiny cry of pleasure burst from her throat as he pressed them flat against her breastbone, feeling the hard nipples poking into the flesh of his palms. Squeezing her firm globes with his long fingers, he drew them out, elongating them, pulling them taut.

  Her breathy little cries sharpened as he tugged on her breasts, stretching them almost painfully. Then he grasped her nipples between his index and second fingers, twisting and rolling them until she jerked against her restraints, trying to get away from him, nearly losing her balance in the process.

  “Stand still.” He gave the order knowing how impossible it would be for her to obey, looking forward to watching her struggle. “Be quiet.” His touch gentled and he began stroking his hands across the smooth skin of her breasts, cupping them in his palms, lashing her nipples with his thumbs, shaping and lifting her sensitive, swollen flesh. She hunched her shoulders, forced to take tiny, mincing steps to keep her balance.

  He continued stroking her, not just her breasts, but her arms, her back, her belly and buttocks until every inch of her skin was tingling as if electrified. The effect was mesmerizing. Her mind shut down, unable to process anything but the exquisite pleasure he was making her feel. She stood before him, her breathing rapid and shallow, adrift in a euphoric haze as she awaited his next move.

  Then, suddenly, abruptly, he was no longer touching her. She hung quietly from her restraints, swaying slightly, her entire body a whimpering mass of sizzling nerve endings. Her hands gripped and regripped the heavy chain holding her up. She cocked her head, trying to hear him, but, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he made no noise that she could discern.

  Until—there! What was that sound? Faint. Metallic. It was…bells? Tinkling bells?

  Without warning, Jesse was back, his hands curving once more around her oh-so-sensitive breasts, lifting the heavy globes from beneath, squeezing them together, drawing her screaming nipples into his hot, wet mouth one by one. Oh, God! Back and forth, from one to the other, he suckled and licked and flicked his tongue like a whip.

  Sarah’s cries of pleasure/pain turned to harsh cries of lust and need. He lifted his head. “Quiet!” A sharp slap to her pussy lips had her gasping in shock. She arched toward him, seeking more of the raw pleasure he was making her feel. Pleasure that scorched a path straight from her nipples to her convulsing cunt. It crackled along her folds, sparking against the needy flesh of her clit like sizzling gunpowder.

  Jesse’s hand released one breast, even as his mouth continued to tug on the nipple of her other breast. He sucked and drew on her swollen point with soft, pulling strokes of his wet lips, elongating it until it was longer and harder and achier than it had ever been before. He lifted his head and she felt cold air brushing across the wet surface. A breathless little cry tore from
her throat.

  Then a bell jingled right in front of her. Something cold touched her nipple and bit down, just as another slap landed along her pussy, sending sharp agony zinging through her.

  “Jesse!” She screamed as pain exploded straight from her nipple through her entire body. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh! God!”

  Instantly, Jesse’s mouth was on her, laving her abused point with his soft, wet tongue, gently easing the pain from excruciating sharpness to a dull, throbbing ache that was soon spreading heat throughout her system. Heat and…something else. Something very akin to pleasure. When Jesse’s mouth released her nipple, his hand released the clamp and her jiggling flesh set the bell to ringing softly. “Now the other one, baby. You can take it.”

  She was sobbing, gasping frantically for every molecule of air, as Jesse’s mouth closed over her other nipple, preparing it to take a similar clamp. This time the biting pain was not quite as excruciating. And the pleasure, when it came, was deeper and even more satisfying. Eyes closed behind the blindfold, she hung there from her chains, her stomach muscles quivering and bunching over and over as her body struggled to adjust to the strident sensations raging through it. A fresh torrent of juice gushed from her pussy. God, how could such pain make her so aroused? She was practically ready to come with the conflicting sensations of both pleasure and pain rippling through her. She was trembling so hard the bells on the clamps jingled continually. The tinkling accompanied her soft sobs and moans as she tried to contain her sounds.

  Holy Moley, she loved this! Her body no longer belonged to her, she realized with new, swift clarity. It had a new Master. Jesse.

  No, wait, not Jesse. Jesse was merely the instrument of delivery. Pleasure was her new Master, ruling her body, making her desperate for the exquisite sensations wrought by Jesse’s stroking hands, his mouth, his heat, his scent, and most of all, his cock.

  She wanted it. All of it. The pleasure and the pain. She needed it. This was what had fueled her fantasies since she’d been fifteen years old. This was what she’d been missing all these years, wasting her time with abusive bullies like Phillip Nugent and vanilla men she couldn’t even bear to date more than once. This was what was now as necessary to her as air to breathe. Jesse’s mastery of her made her so hot her entire existence was no more than a constant state of euphoric arousal, wanting only to pleasure him, to be pleasured by him, knowing that each time would be the most heart-stoppingly rapturous experience of her life.