What submissions should he choose for her tonight? The possibilities were endless. It would take a lifetime to explore all the facets of bondage and domination they could enjoy together. Suddenly, he wished they had a lifetime to do so ...
Tessa, she just may be the special woman he’d been looking for.
Wordlessly, he took her through the open door to his bedroom. He watched as she absorbed the room and its decor. His grandfather had been a collector of erotic art, and much of it was on display here. Little-known paintings by well-known artists, a few Art Deco sculptures, an amusingly suggestive wall clock, and an abundance of gilded mirrors—including a large one above the iron bed—all set the mood for decadence. But the bed was the centerpiece. Specially commissioned in France by Grand-père, the hand-wrought master-piece was large enough for an orgy, yet hid secrets in its iron lace, perfect for the intimate initiation of a novice by her new master.
“I don’t usually sleep in here,” he told her. “Unless I have company.”
“Do you have company often?” she asked, a jealous bite to her tone.
He smiled. Jealousy was a good thing between lovers. “Not nearly often enough. In fact, hardly ever anymore. I’ve been waiting for ... someone special to bring.”
A look of uncertain hope mollified her expression. But she didn’t comment.
“Your dress goes remarkably well with the room,” he said, bringing her further into it. Calf-length and elegantly cut, reminiscent of what his nude Art Deco figurines might have worn had they been dressed, the hem of her slim-fitting pale pink satin gown slashed down dramatically on one side, nearly touching the side of her sexy pink high heel. The draped neckline exposed the slopes of her breasts to perfection.
She glanced down, smoothing her hands over the slick fabric. “Laura has wonderful taste.”
“Mmm. Too bad you won’t be wearing it much longer.”
“No?” She nibbled her lower lip, looking like a schoolgirl about to be punished by the older teacher she had a crush on. The thought was more than appealing.
“You have been a very naughty bridesmaid,” he announced in low tones. “And as your groomsman, I feel it is my duty to discipline you.”
Her throat worked. “But I haven’t been naughty,” she demurred, catching on at once to the fantasy.
His lip curled in alacrity. “Haven’t you? Tessa, what were you doing at dawn this morning?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I ... I was giving a man a blow job.”
He frowned at her. “And where were you doing this?”
“Outside,” she confessed reluctantly. “In a courtyard. It was deserted,” she hastened to add.
“But in full view of a dozen windows and balconies?”
“Yes.”
“Who was this man? Your boyfriend?”
“I—No, I met him ... last night.”
“A stranger, Tessa?”
“Yes.”
“You had a strange man’s cock in your mouth, with any number of people watching? And you don’t consider that naughty?”
“I guess it was,” she whispered. “I am naughty. Very naughty.”
“Bon,” he said. “Then you must be punished, non?”
“Yes, Shay.”
“Call me sir,” he ordered.
“Sir,” she obeyed, though her feet shifted. A sign of defiance ? He’d see about that.
He took a step backward and lifted his hands away from his sides. “Take my jacket off for me.”
After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she came to him and slid it from his shoulders, her hands caressing the muscles of his biceps as she drew it off. She leaned in and placed a kiss on the side of his throat.
“Did I say you could kiss me?”
“No, sir,” she murmured breathily. “I couldn’t help myself. I want you so much.”
He’d been aroused since they got to the plantation, but at her sweet declaration, his cock went thick and hard. “I’ll decide when you can touch me,” he said. “Now take off my tie and unbutton my shirt.”
Her fingers fumbled with the knot, but she managed to slide the bow tie from around his neck. She started with his top button, struggling to pop it free. Bon Dieu, she was driving him mad!
It finally gave, and she glanced up at him briefly in relief, then went to work on the next one. He stood his ground, burning with splendid impatience. When she’d gotten halfway through the buttons, he couldn’t wait.
“Lick my nipples,” he commanded.
Her eyes darted to the V of exposed skin. She drew the shirt to one side and put her tongue to the disc of his nipple, flicking around the nub like a butterfly. He wanted to groan but didn’t allow the sound to escape.
“The other,” he said, and she obeyed. “Bite it,” he commanded, his voice betraying his barely suppressed rapacious need. “Gently.”
Her teeth nipped him just right. Light enough not to hurt—too much—and hard enough to send a streak of arousal straight to his balls. She did the same for the other one, ending with a firm suck. Merde.
He grasped her arms and set her away. “That’s enough. Now take off your dress.” He strode to a wing chair and sat down to watch her disrobe. He steepled his fingers in front of him. “Slowly.”
She obliged, in a shy display of excruciating sensuality. “You should do this for a living,” he growled, shifting against his ever-thickening erection. “You’d make a fortune.”
She smiled coyly. “I only want you to see my body. Sir.”
Once again, her lingerie was exquisite. Wisps of palest pink barely covered her breasts and mound. She wore pink thigh-high stockings with her sky-high I’m-a-bridesmaid fuck-me heels. She was a vision, enough to make any man’s cock weep with desire. His was already sticking to his boxer briefs.
“Now your bra.” As pretty as it was, he wanted it gone.
She slipped it off. Her full, beautiful breasts spilled out, making his hard-on practically leap from his pants. By now he was pretty sure he was the one being punished, not her. Not that he was objecting.
He liked her like this, in a half state of undress, and he decided to keep her that way for a while longer. “Go to the wall over there,” he directed, pointing.
She walked to the other side of the room, opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the gallery and the woods beyond. There were heavy velvet curtains, but he never bothered to close them. The nearest neighbor was fifteen miles away.
She looked at him expectantly, standing by the wood-paneled wall.
His pulse quickened with anticipation. “Grasp the handle, there, and slide the panels open.”
As she did so, her gasp of shock was fuel to the fire between his thighs. It was his toy cabinet, a wall-to-wall array of every sexual implement imaginable, all hidden discreetly in a deep recess behind the sliding doors of the false paneling, brought to light only when he was in the mood for something ... out of the ordinary. And Tessa certainly was that.
She jumped backward and scanned the assemblage in horrified fascination. She shuddered out a breathy, “Oh, my God.”
“Change your mind?” he asked, not sure if he’d let her, even if she wanted to.
“God, no,” came her husky reply.
Merci Dieu.
“Go ahead, then. Pick your punishment.”
“Just one?” she asked, and he blessed the day he was born with a penis.
“Hell, cher, I’ve got all night. All week.” A long, lonely lifetime . “You go for it, you.”
She walked to the beginning of the collection. She moved like a racehorse, her naked back straight, her legs miles long in her high heels, her mane of auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. Salleau prie, she was stunning.
Slowly, she examined his toys, implements, and bondage equipment. “I don’t know what half of this stuff is for,” she murmured. “And the other half I’m only guessing.” She fingered a thin, clear glass dildo with raised red hearts scattered along the shaft.
“Go ahead
and grab that one,” he told her. “Whatever I end up doing to you, it will involve a dildo or two.”
She turned to look at him anxiously. “Two?”
He just smiled. Surely, she hadn’t thought she could avoid getting something put up her ass?
Apparently she had. Her eyes went round. To her credit, she moistened her lips, turned back, and slid the dildo from its rack, holding it gingerly in one hand as she continued her study.
She touched many of the things as she moved along the cabinet. More dildos, a multi-stranded leather flogger, a particularly inventive cock ring, several of the two dozen or so tethers and restraints hanging by their straps and chains. She was also fascinated by the spanking bench and the spreader bars.
Foutre de merde, he was getting voraciously horny just watching her look. His nipples were still zinging from her tongue, and he couldn’t wait to return the favor.
“Enough,” he said, rising from the chair. “Choose, or I will.” He went to stand behind her when she hesitated.
Sensing his determination, she reached out and picked up the leather flogger, then returned to the dildos, and selected a large, realistic one. She turned to him and rested it against her lips, giving the tip a little lick. “This one reminds me of you, sir,” she said innocently.
He swallowed, remembering all too well how amazing those lips felt wrapped around his cock. “Excellent choice.” He took it from her, along with the flogger and the glass dildo. “Restraints?” he asked, brow raised.
She glanced over the selection.
“You choose,” she said at length. “I want to please you, Shay.” She looked up at him. “Show me how.”
He searched her eyes and saw she truly meant it. How could he resist such an eloquent plea to be used in the most wicked and enticing ways?
He set her three items on the bed and went to the cabinet to make his choice of restraints for her. He decided on a set of long, heavy chains with fur-lined manacles. The effect would be more psychological than physically restraining, the sound and weight of the metal reminding her every second that she was in irons. He could also attach them in creative ways to the sturdy framework of the bed, holding her body open for him, for hours if he wished.
Her breath sucked in when he pulled the chains from their storage hooks. “Worried?” he asked as he let them spill noisily onto the bed, joining the other things.
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. But that only seemed to increase her arousal. A stain of blush lay on her upper chest and throat, and her nipples stood at rigid attention.
Which reminded him ... He went back and fetched a set of light nipple clamps. “You need to be punished for pleasuring mine,” he said, holding them up.
“But you told me to!” she protested breathlessly. “Sir.”
“Are you arguing with me?” he asked evenly.
“No!” She blinked at the bright red aluminum clamps, joined by a strand of red crystal beads, then returned her gaze to him defiantly. “I mean, yes. It’s not fair.”
If he weren’t so painfully aroused he would have allowed himself a moment of amusement. Damn, she was a quick study. And so fucking perfect it made him dizzy.
“Pull down your panties, woman. Just to your thighs,” he admonished when she would have taken them off completely. Again, for psychological effect. Somehow it was far more wanton to have one’s knickers partway down that to be totally naked.
“You are a bad little bridesmaid,” he said reprovingly as he strolled slowly in a circle around her, looking at her lower body. “Showing yourself to one of the groomsmen like this. Why do you do such naughty things?” Her neatly trimmed pussy was glistening wet, her ass round and plump as a juicy mango, beckoning to him.
“I let you see me because you’re handsome and sexy,” she said timidly. “And I’ve heard things about you ... bad things.”
He put his hand on her bottom, and she jumped a little. “What kind of bad things?”
She breathed in. “That you have a huge cock, and you know how to use it.”
From behind her, he slid his fingers between her legs, gliding them along her wet slit, eliciting a low moan, gathering some of her juices. Then he slid them up to her back opening. She gasped softly as he rubbed her there with his slick fingers, hinting at things to come. Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Have you ever taken a man here before, Tessa?” he murmured, continuing to toy with her.
“N-no.”
“Hmm,” he hummed speculatively. “I see.” He pressed his finger gently against the tight circle. It gave a little. He pressed harder. With his other hand he grasped one of her nipples and squeezed it hard, just as his fingertip slipped inside her.
“Oh!” She grabbed his arm and clung to him.
“Do you like how it feels?” he asked, wiggling his fingertip slightly.
She made a noise. “Yes,” she said in barely a whisper. “Sir.”
“Good,” he said and withdrew, stepping over to the nightstand. He availed himself of a box of baby wipes, then brought out a box of condoms from the drawer. “Then we’ll get along just fine.”
She swallowed heavily. Her green eyes were the shade of a midnight forest by now, following his every move while he fetched one of the metal spreader bars she’d been looking at in the cabinet, and unbuckled the leather cuffs at either end of the three-foot rod. He could see her knees shaking as he fastened her wrists into the cuffs, which held her arms stretched wide apart.
He slid her panties off.
Leading her over to the bed, he reached up and swung out a sturdy metal rod attached to the upper rail of the iron canopy frame. The room’s ceilings were twelve feet high, and the curlicue bed frame reached nearly eight. He attached Tessa’s spreader bar to a chain that hung from the rod and raised the bar and her arms along with it. When it was high above her head, he locked down the chain so it wouldn’t move.
“You’re my prisoner, Tessa,” he said. “Mine to do with as I wish. There will be no escape for you. Not until I allow it.”
“Please, Shay,” she said, twisting her wrists fretfully. Her breasts rose and fell, her breath coming in little anxious pants. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Sir,” he corrected, with no small satisfaction at having total power over his beautiful captive. “Now, ma chérie, your punishment begins.”
Chapter 13
Tessa’s heart was hammering so fast and loud she thought it might just pound through her chest.
She watched in titillated terror, gasping as Shay squeezed a nipple clamp onto the pebbled tip of first one breast, then the other. The string of beads suspended between the two pulled the clamps downward in addition to the pinching sensation on her nipples. She squirmed as streaks of pleasure coiled through her breasts and tugged fiercely at her center.
“Bon?” he asked. “Feel good?”
“God, yes,” she squeaked, squirming with the unfamiliar pleasure. She pulled at her bonds, wanting to touch her nipples, to make it go away, or maybe to make it pinch harder.
He smiled and unzipped his fly, pulling his engorged cock out so it jutted from his trousers like some kind of fertility god statue. “There, that’s better.”
She looked at it and felt her pussy unfurl.
“You want it?” he asked.
“Yes. Please. Sir.”
He stepped up to her and brushed it across her belly, leaving a wet trail behind on her skin. “It wants you, too.” He drew a finger through the wetness and brought it to her lips. She sucked the finger into her mouth, tasting his essence. He jerked lightly on the strand of beads hanging from her breasts, making her nipples sing with pleasure-pain.
She cried out, and he took back his finger. “But first ...” He picked up the realistic dildo from the bed and sheathed it with a condom. “Spread your legs.”
She hesitated. She’d never used a dildo before.
He gave her bottom a hard smack. “I said spread your legs.”
“Ow!” she
cried, but did as he asked. God, he was serious. Last night he had been playful, but tonight he seemed ... different. Like he meant business. Like if she didn’t do as he commanded, he really would get angry and punish her for real.
Alarm buzzed through her just as the dildo slid up into her. She gasped as the hard silicon stretched and filled her. It felt ... amazing. “It feels like you,” she said, and suddenly it started to vibrate. A low, steady hum that she felt clear to her toes. She tilted her head back and moaned in pure bliss. Oh. Mygod. So much for punishment.
The vibrations snapped off.
Her eyes shot open. Shay held up a small remote control and gave her a devilish smile. “Close your legs and don’t let it slide out,” he told her, “and I might turn it on again.”
“You’re evil,” she murmured in frustration.
“You have no idea,” he murmured back. He reached up and pulled a lever. The chain fastened to the stretcher bar above her head started to glide along the crossrail toward the center of the bed. When she was stretched taut, bent at the waist over the mattress, her feet on the floor and knees bumping the side, he pulled the lever again. It stopped, and she was held fast in that position, breasts grazing the silk coverlet, her bottom pushed out on display for him.
The vibrator turned on again.
And something tickled her ass. The thin leather strands of the flogger dragged over her skin, raising a rash of goose bumps.
“Oh, God,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut.
He brushed the strands up and over her back, causing a flurry of shivers up and down her spine. “Don’t lose the dildo,” he warned, and she clamped her legs together tighter. The low vibrations were edging her closer to orgasm. She didn’t want them to stop.
The first stroke of the flogger took her by surprise. It felt like a handful of snow granules hitting her backside. Sharp little stings that shocked her flesh to life. She cried out, not sure if it was pain or pleasure. He flogged her again, a sharp, light swat. And again. She gasped his name.
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