While he held her, fully enjoying her embrace, he reminded her, “Maxine…we’re scening!”
“Oops!”
“Yeah, oops!” he bit back, but his gaze remained adoring. He almost hated to return her to the ground, but he had to take back his command.
Now, it was time to reveal all the details about his surprise. He simply couldn’t find a castle with a proper dungeon in the Loire Valley that wasn’t near ruins, so he turned to an old friend for a favor.
“The proprietor of this house is someone I used to know from the scene back in New York,” Drew explained while Maxine’s eyes grew cross. “Oh, I didn’t play with her, for crissakes. She’s about forty years older than me, and she’s an internationally renowned Domme of French descent. But we’d become good friends. And she invited us to spend our honeymoon here…”
Wrinkling her forehead, Maxine tightened her face as if she’d just bitten into a lemon. “Wait…she’s seventy-years-old, and she still plays?”
Perhaps, Maxine thought, there was hope for their Golden Years of Kink after all!
“Let’s just say that she has two whipping boys who are closer to your age than mine,” Drew continued. “She’d had this castle refitted a few years back to cater to her own proclivities. She also has a private ‘maid’—a woman who’s been subbing professionally for years. I’m told they’re quite in love.”
For a moment, Maxine didn’t understand her own shock. These were people who engaged in the same lifestyle that she lived with Drew. This woman simply enjoyed heightening her pleasure with multiple players.
“She can be a wicked old bird,” Drew added, “but in my conversations with her, she taught me a lot about my own foray into this lifestyle.”
Maxine stuck her chin out as if she were challenging Drew. “Like what?”
“Like how to be a Dom—not a douche,” Drew said. “And how to respect my submissives…”
Dropping her head, defeated, Maxine whispered, “I guess she put the ‘kind’ in my Kind Sir…”
“And you should be grateful to her…”
However, Maxine had much more on her mind than the Mistress of the House.
On the walls hung a sampling of medieval torture devices—from an iron bridle to a Heretic’s Fork to a breast ripper and a good-old fashioned slingshot. Maxine simply couldn’t tear her eyes away. In the shadowy room, Drew watched as her face, and her forehead tightened in both fear and fascination.
“Don’t fret, little one,” he said. “That’s merely décor. I brought our own slew of toys with us on this trip…”
Her shoulders slumped momentarily in relief. “Oh, thank you, Sir…”
“I didn’t say that tonight wasn’t going to hurt, though,” he added with that mischievous grin she adored.
“I’ve asked for it, Sir,” she said. “In fact, I’ve begged.”
“That you have,” he agreed. “Are you ready to begin our session this evening, Maxine?”
“Yes, Sir, I am…” she said. “Very…ready…”
With a nod, he turned his back to her and struck a match to light a few more of the candles that were left around the room. “Shoes on. Robe off,” he commanded.
“Robe…” Maxine muttered to herself as her hands worked at the knot at her waist. His orders, while simple, were almost impossible for her to navigate in the state into which she was slipping. “Oh, shoes again!”
“Trouble there?” he asked, taking her arm as she shoved her feet back into her stilettos.
“Have to pick up my robe, Sir…”
“I’ll help you this evening, Maxine,” he said, bending down to retrieve the mound of fluffy white terry cloth that she’d dropped on the cold stone floor. However, he did return the robe to Maxine’s hands to fold.
“Such a Kind Sir…” she murmured as she took to her duty. All the while, her eyes continued to case the room. There was some sort of torture chair…an iron maiden…and some sort of swing-contraption hanging from the ceiling by four thick chains. The true thrill, though, for Maxine, was playing in a dungeon.
“So curious tonight, aren’t you?”
“So many things to look at, Sir…”
Leaning back against the wall, Drew folded his arms. “See anything…familiar?” he asked.
Confusion cluttered Maxine’s curiosity, and she narrowed her eyes for a closer look around the drafty room. Then something in the corner caught her eye. Lowering her head, she peered closer, until the object came into view.
Daring to smile at Drew, she asked rather excitedly, “My toybox? You had it shipped to France, Kind Sir?”
“Why don’t you have a closer look at that toybox?” Taking her hand, he led her to that corner of the room and waited.
“M…E…K-M!” Truly, only Drew would have thought to add—and hyphenate—her new initial. On overload, she couldn’t contain her emotions, and she grabbed his face with both hands and just kissed him on the lips. She even dared to dart her tongue into his mouth. “I love you!”
“Love you, too, little one,” he said, pulling back. “However…do I need to remind you—again…?”
“We’re scening, Sir…” she said and dropped her head so that her chin was nearly touching her chest.
How she worked him without even realizing her underlying motives sometimes. And how she controlled his heart with her submission.
“Why don’t you get down on your knees and open up your toybox?” he suggested. “I’m sure you’ll find some…curiosities in there.”
Gently, Maxine bent down to begin her exploration. This time around, she didn’t have the need to ask so many questions or ponder his intentions, but she remained so charmingly intrigued nonetheless.
“Sit up straight, Maxine,” he said, giving her shoulder a nudge backward. “I want those knees to feel the cobblestones…”
Often, when he called her attention to a particular aspect of a scene, Maxine found her experience enhanced by his words. Suddenly, she found her knees cold and a bit sore on the bumpy ground. However, she forced herself to endure the discomfort right alongside the ache of her own yearning.
Not much to her surprise, the ball gag sat right on top of the stash, ready to silence her with a lesson on her acerbic tongue. With a roll of her eyes, Maxine simply handed the mini-muzzle to Drew, but as she leaned forward to dig further into this pile of new gifts, his hand closed over her shoulder.
“Saw that!” he said, tightening his grip slightly. “That’s an extra five cracks tonight for rolling your eyes, Maxine.”
“Thank you—in advance—Sir…”
“I didn’t mention where or how I’m cracking you,” he noted. “Moving on. Any questions before I gag you?”
“Not at the moment, Sir,” she answered. “But I’ve not finished perusing…”
“Peruse away,” he encouraged.
Pain was clearly the name of the game that night, and she had to smile when she spotted the crusher that she’d been coveting. It was a series of thin, steel bars that clamped the breasts between them.
“I know that you understand how that works,” Drew teased. “And I have the sneaking suspicion that it won’t even hurt you too much. But look again, and you’ll find something that may…”
Maxine spotted a pair of alligator clamps with teeth that appeared much sharper than they actually were. Drew took great care in choosing them, making certain that they were adjustable so that he could introduce her slowly to the tiny metal jaws.
“What else is in there, Maxine?”
Covering her mouth as she teetered, she turned to Drew for one split-second before delving back into her toybox. “Little tiny paddle, Sir…” she said, holding up the mere slip of leather and then slicing it through the air. It truly was the smallest paddle she’d ever seen, perhaps a couple of inches wide and not even a foot long in length.
“Remember, Maxine, little orgasms are just as delicious as the big ones,” he began. “And so are little paddles.”
Wobblin
g a bit on her knees, she felt the crush against the cold, hard floor. “Oh, yes, Sir…”
Onward, she foraged for her toys. Vibrating butt plugs…perhaps to prepare her for a second round of their wedding night. A new leather blindfold. Full-arm restraints, also hand-made in leather. Floggers and whips—even a bamboo cane that she’d been begging him to buy. He’d created a submissive’s dream kit with his gifts.
“One last little item in there, Maxine…”
With a second look, she found a steel chain at the very bottom of the box. Perplexity shadowed her eyes as she looked up at him.
“Sir…already have clamps…with teeth…for my nipples…” That adorable struggle she always had with her speech as she slipped back into subspace always gave her away.
“Did I say that those clamps are for your nipples?”
“Oh!” Maxine said, popping her head back, stunned. “Um, Sir…uhhh…no…”
Drew began to pace very slowly around Maxine and the toybox, circling around and back again. “You have no idea, do you, Maxine?”
“No, Sir, I do not.”
“Well, I’m happy to show you…but first we need to have a serious conversation about tonight,” he said. “I think you can see that I’m planning to give you a little more of that pain you’ve been yearning for.”
“Yes, I see, Sir…”
“I’m going to gag you. Your line of vision will also be impaired to some degree,” he warned her. “I’m also going to restrain you in a somewhat different manner than you’re used to. So if you’re in immediate stress, just kick me.”
His instruction gave Maxine great pause, and she looked deeply into his eyes. “Kick you, sir?”
“Kick me,” he repeated. “I don’t want you to waste a single second if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Well, I…um…”
“Little one,” his voice was tender again, just for the moment, and he bent down to give her shoulders an assuring squeeze. “We’re scening, but I’m still your husband here. You’ve asked me to test the limits, and that’s what I intend to do. But I’m not going to jeopardize our relationship over a pair of nipple clamps…”
Reaching up, she caught his hands in hers, then held them against her chest. Drew could feel her heart beating fiercely, but he could also see the love in her eyes.
“If it’s too much,” she began with a bit of reluctance, “I will kick you, Kind Sir…”
“Good…” his lips brushed her forehead “…girl…”
Desire burned through her with just that slight touch, and she wanted to just fuck him wildly right on that cold, stone floor. However, she also understood how curtailing her own wants and needs ultimately left her shattered from the most exquisite pleasures. He had trained her in patience, and on that, they were still working. But that night, she sought to rally every ounce of endurance within her capabilities.
“Ready?” he asked, his hands wrapping around her waist to help her to stand.
“Yes, Sir, I’m ready.”
Once Maxine stood before him, her head bowed to face the floor, he ordered, “Strip. But leave the shoes and stockings.”
Stretching her arms behind her, she popped the clasp of her bra, which fell from her shoulders without trouble. However, she found she had a slight problem in unhooking her garter belt.
“Trouble there?” Drew asked suddenly.
“In the back, Sir, please.”
“I guess I can help.” She continued to struggle, as he turned his attention to those pesky straps that held her stockings in place. While she slithered out of her panties, her heel caught the delicate lace. “Oh, Maxine…how complicated can we make this here?”
She swallowed hard and fidgeted in place, waiting for the next order to fall as Drew collected her mess of underclothing from the floor.
“I think we’ll start with this…” he smiled as he held the breast crusher for her to see. “Since you’ve been so eager to try it…”
“Oh, thank you, Sir!” Anticipation climbed in her voice, while his hands took her breasts, kneading just a bit before he placed the frame of the metal rods around them.
“Nice! Standing so straight for me…” He twisted the screws to tighten her up. “How are we, Maxine?”
“It’s…a little cold, Sir…”
“I think the heat from your skin will warm it up sufficiently. Otherwise?”
“Tighter, please, Sir?”
Uncertainty siphoned through his sigh, then with caution, he twisted the screw once, then twice more, eliciting a pleasant hum from deep within Maxine’s chest.
“Color?”
“Oh, green!” she rushed to answer. “It doesn’t hurt much, Sir…”
“Well,” he began, his fingers manipulating her nipples into two taut little buds, “this might…”
Pinching the alligator clamps, he hoped that smile would remain a fixture on her face as he affixed one, then the other.
“Oooh…” That bite into her breast certainly did prickle, but she shivered in delight as the metal teeth dug into tender flesh.
“Yellow?”
“Nope!” she said, waiting for him to clamp her other breast. “Green, Sir. I like the sensation.”
After placing the tiny metal jaws over her other nipple, he minded her closely, and then he reached for her panties on the table and passed them to her.
“Before we move on, you need to clean yourself up. We don’t want this leash to slip off, do we?”
“Leash, Sir?”
“Labial leash, Maxine,” he explained, sliding his index finger between drenched lower lips.
Suddenly, she recalled that other set of clamps in her toy chest, and her grin just broadened.
“No smirking,” he said. “Take your panties and dry yourself off. We don’t have all night here. I have many things that we need to accomplish this evening.”
Muttering senselessly, she did just as she was told, her movements provoking some pinching with the bars and clamps at her chest. Drawing in a deep breath, she took the pain in stride and dabbed at herself between her legs.
“Such futile efforts,” he taunted, watching her careful fingers as she pressed the lace against her clit, struggling against her own toys. “Rub a little harder.”
While she did just as he instructed, his eyes narrowed. “Harder, Maxine,” he corrected. “And tell me what it feels like.”
“Lace is scratchy, Sir.”
“You chose it—you wore it. Your fault, Mrs. Mack,” he reminded her. “See, this is why you can’t make decisions on your own—at least of the sexual nature.”
Her feet danced upon the cobblestones while she continued to agitate herself further with those damn little panties. Her efforts didn’t do a damn thing. She was certain that leash was simply going to slide right off.
“Need Kind Sir…”
“Yeah, you need Kind Sir,” he bit back at her. “You need Kind Sir when you need an orgasm…like right about now…”
Her eyes widened with hope.
“The answer is no!” he said before she even had the chance to question him.
Fuckballs. He’d planned to work her extra hard that evening.
“Here. I specifically told you to clean yourself—not to play with yourself,” he berated as he took the panties and reached between her legs himself. “Honestly, Maxine, how did you function before me?”
In spite of that ache between her legs, she tried so very fervently not to laugh. “I didn’t have sex, Sir…”
“Oh, touché,” he mumbled in retort, tossing her panties back on the table and grabbing the leash. “Think this will hurt?”
“No, Sir,” she said. “Rubber tips don’t hurt…Sir…”
He tightened one screw, then the other. Then went back and tightened them again in his own frustration.
“Ahh…” she cooed. “Tingly, Sir…so nice…”
At that moment, Drew almost wanted to cry. He’d squashed her breasts. Attached the jaws of fucking life to her nip
ples. And…clamped her right between the legs. But Maxine was still fucking smiling. He just couldn’t win with her fucking punishments!
With a yank on the lead, he tugged her, beckoning her to follow. Across the room, he led her by her leash toward a webbed leather swing that hung from the ceiling of the arched cubby on the opposite wall. It was Maxine’s own personal mini-prison.
However, before hoisting her into position, he left her standing for a moment, all the while hoping that she wouldn’t stumble in throes of subspace.
As he collected the last of his accoutrements for their play, he watched her so closely—those flattened little breasts tipped with the pierce of steel teeth, that chain hanging between her thighs with the pull of the handle dragging on the ground as she swayed back and forth to keep her balance.
Upon his return, he lifted her head, facing her eyes to his, and came up empty when he searched for a trace of doubt.
“Now, Maxine,” he ordered, but his voice was soft—almost delicate. “I’m going to gag you now. And do you know why I’m gagging you?”
“Because I have a sassy mouth, Sir.”
Once again, he pulled at the chain between her legs, just to enhance her already raging desires. “You just can’t resist a little lip with your Kind Sir,” he said, positioning the ball right between her waiting, open lips.
Not a peep resonated against the ball gag, but just for good measure, he took her hand in his. She didn’t squeeze. Drew sighed with relief, then moved on to his next accessory.
As the mask—almost a primitive human cage of sorts—closed around Maxine’s head, she caught her breath just for a moment. It was an ugly apparatus, reminiscent of the mask Hannibal Lecter wore in The Silence of the Lambs with a bit of a medieval flair. While it was padded on the inside to shield her face from the metal, there was an open ring at the mouth that would accommodate food, drink or even Drew’s cock if he so desired.
That night, however, Maxine would get nothing but the rubber ball in her mouth, just as he’d promised her.
“Now, I’m going to restrain you in the swing,” Drew said as he cupped her ass to lift her. “Rest on your tummy, and make sure your breasts are dangling over the side, Maxine. We don’t need a calamity with the crusher.”
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 39