“No, sir. I…ah…just…”
“Shhhhhhhhhhh. There’s no reason to cry.”
Though she nodded her consent, she could not prevent the tears from forming in her eyes.
Alain’s fingers moved even deeper into her crotch, threading their way between her pubic lips and fastening against her clitoris where he gently pressed the small bud. Just this simple touch and he could feel her energy drop deep in her belly.
“We discussed this weeks ago,” he reminded her, “when you were happy to imagine your body pierced for my pleasure.”
He worked a finger slowly against her clit, expanding what was already beginning to throb in that excited place.
“But I thought it was just sex talk…” she breathed out remorsefully.
“Of course, it was sex talk. But it was also real.”
“But, Alain, you said you’d never do anything this drastic—I mean without first—” she started to ramble on.
“Hush,” he whispered quietly. He was a man given to subtleties, with just the set of his mouth he conveyed firmness and amusement; a softness to allay her fears, and a resolve to assure her that he would not be backing down despite her fears. He knew his wife was filled with longstanding desires that would only see fulfillment if he were to take the reins and make them happen. On her own, she would easily back down, which was why he didn’t give her many choices when it came to how they played with their sadomasochistic kink. He went straight to her heart; he knew what she truly wanted. He had also combed the depths of his own depravity and shared that with his wife-to-be. She vowed to him when they made the decision to marry that she’d erect no barriers to prevent him from realizing his longstanding desire for a submissive female in his life. Every step he took with her since that day had been a test to see if the enthusiasm for submission she spoke of was truly real.
Still, there were times like this when he could feel the fight in her, when she’d grasp at anything to change his plans.
“For a wanna-be submissive, you seem to be waging quite a war with yourself. I’d suggest you stop thinking for once and let me do that for you. This is my game, Meredith, my rules. You just let go and be at peace.”
“Yes, sir.” She was very much consoled by the time he was finished with the preparations. Something seemed to change in her during the exchange. While his simple words had talked her down, the gentle fingers on her pubic slit slowly moved her to an erotic state of mind where everything began to be a little fuzzy. Her eyes softened almost deliriously, her heartbeat slowed and her breathing deepened. Her entire body seemed to sigh, and at that moment he turned her over to the waiting Robbie.
The man knew his kink well. He understood the plan and swiftly executed the piercings that Alain wanted. A lot for Meredith to take in a single night, but who was he to argue with the scheme? While Alain ran an affectionate hand through her hair, Robbie teased each nipple into tight knots, judged the location with his bare eye, then aimed with the needle, swiftly piercing it through the small brown buds.
Meri arched her back each time, letting out a small but plaintive cry as her body spiked with pain and then finally settled down.
“Now was that so bad?” Robbie smiled at her mockingly.
She gulped, and refused to speak.
“Just a couple more and we’re done,” he said.
Learning that there would be more, her eyes went wide in wonder, but she said nothing. Her endorphins seemed to have taken charge so that even as Robbie Carvello moved between her legs and fiddled with her inner sex lips, she showed little cause for concern. She moaned as his gloved fingers probed her, as his digits came up wet with her juices. He tugged at her sex lips several times, feeling the flesh and making his plans. Meanwhile the aroused subject seemed to have found a steep slide into the valley of erotic desire. She made no sudden moves or protests now. Even when Robbie pulled off one pair of latex gloves and replaced them with another, even when he tugged at her inner labia hard, she barely seemed to notice. Even when his needle pierced right through the small sliver of pubic flesh she hardly uttered a noise. Her body flinched to be sure, her back arched again, and she opened her mouth in a silent cry, but that was all. She seemed to absorb the pain and let it work its way through her body, gathering steam for an impending climax – perhaps.
As he pierced her other inner labia, her body spiked again, and her hips involuntarily shifted back and forth.
“Hold still!” Robbie ordered, and she finally settled so that he could push the rings through the piercings and set the captive beads.
Watching the delicate procedure, Alain was certain that if Robbie had kept going with more piercings, she would have been driven toward an urgent climax with the next sharp stab of a needle. As it was, she was left with a violent need to come.
With Robbie finished, Alain moved in close and gently tugged each new piece of body jewelry, as if he were claiming it as his own. He finally began toying with her hole and clit, letting the massage take her exactly where she wished to go.
“You think you need to come?” he asked her.
“Oh, Alain…oh…please, sir, if you would…” she could barely speak, but the desire was clear. Already here hips were thrashing back and forth as the feelings inside her moved fervently toward that sweet moment of crisis.
“Some day, I will tie you down so tightly that there will be no way you can move even a muscle when I’m playing with you. How would that be?” he said, this time grabbing not the ring but the sore labia where she’d just been pierced. He squeezed hard, causing a sudden rush of pain to rocket through her body.
“Ohdeargod…” she gasped. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“Maybe I don’t want you to come now. Maybe I want to take you first, or let Robbie have you, or not let you come at all.”
“Sir, please!”
“Wouldn’t that be adequate punishment for your lousy memory, Mrs. Danvers?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, though her face twisted into a pained grimace.
“You wouldn’t forget dinner next time, would you?”
“No, sir.” Her voice was strained, and her back still arched, as that fine river of pain extending from her tortured labia went on in an endless stream. “I’m sorry, sir.” She became more desperate.
“But you still want to come?”
“Please, sir…” she barely gasped as he continued to deliver the small, but very effective punishment.
“Then you can beg for it.”
Oh! What a sadist he was!
“Please, sir, I do so wish to come, if you’ll permit me. I’m so very close.”
There were times when Meredith followed no pattern when it came to orgasms. Alain didn’t lay down strict rules, when she could and when she couldn’t. Maybe a day here and there, if he wanted to make a particular point, when he would forbid her from masturbating. But he preferred no long list of hard and fast regulations in this area, which always kept her guessing. But there was no guessing about his intention now. She was his to control and no matter how deeply her body yearned to finish off this dreadful torture with a fevered climax, she would rein in her desire until he gave his word.
“More, Meri,” he answered her plea.
“I’m so frantic, sir. It hurts so much. Please, please, I promise I won’t forget anything again…I swear…” she was regularly given to overstatement, “…Oh, dear god, I can’t hold on.” In addition to the pain inflicted on her poor sex flesh, Alain had begun to tease her clit and vagina with his other hand. “Oh, but I can’t…” she swore.
“You can and you will until I give my permission,” he shot right back, without letting up.
Part of him wanted her to fail because failure would mean more punishment. A turn with the whip or the paddle. A night in the closet bound and alone. With his mind now bent on sadism, he could think of no finer ending for this night than to see her punished before she was allowed a physical release.
He could always pull away
from her and force her to wait, tie her to the bed and make her body grovel on air the entire night. So many options. But it would take a split second decision to initiate that plan – he’d almost taken her too far and a decision needed to be made now.
With no warning given, Alain stopped the endless rain of pain, with his fingers moving deeply between her freshly pierced labia to her molten vagina. He thrust several into her wet love hole and began to fuck her hard, while taking her clitoris between two fingers and squeezing the sensitive bud.
“Come, Meredith,” he said quite calmly. Even then, he recognized the signs of her climax in the physical responses of her body. Taut as a bow, body strained, for a brief time seizing up then finally releasing as her pussy exploded with its sex juice and the voice of her climax rising into the air.
“Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Yessssssssssssssss…”
When he finally removed his hand, her body was still thrashing against the workbench, her pussy still spilling juices on the towel beneath her ass.
Alain and Robbie watched her, each man feeling an electric jolt in their crotches, their cocks surging with need.
“Damn! That’s inspiration!” Robbie exclaimed. “And lucky you, you’ll be taking her up the ass instead of using her pussy while those rings heal.”
“Oh, I think I can have her from behind in her puss without doing any damage.”
“You just be careful.”
“When have I not?”
Robbie smiled. “So, the deal is still a go?” he asked, as he was cleaning up and the ravaged female recuperated from the scene.
“I have every intention of reciprocating, my friend,” Alain replied.
“Ella’s special,” Robbie said. “I want her to be as special as Meredith is to you.”
“I think she already is.”
Robbie grinned slyly as they continued to casually converse without a thought to their bound victim.
Meredith was coming around, her ears picking up the strange dialogue between the two men. As much as she was sexually sated, she felt some reason to fear. The furtive words, the implications. The mention of a woman. What did it mean? She strained to hear more, but their voices began to soften into sounds so hushed that she could make out only a word or two. Their backs were turned, and they were near the door. Robbie was obviously leaving. “You tell me when,” she finally heard her husband say, “and thanks for tonight.”
“You be sure she keeps them cleaned…a little salt bath…”
“She will.”
“Good. So we’re set then…the middle of next month as we planned,” Robbie said. Then the two moved from the workshop through the house to the front door.
Meredith had been left alone and bound on the workshop table, hearing nothing else once they’d left the room.
***
A sensuous and blissful fog settled in around Meri’s mind during the aftermath of the piercings, and seemed to remain with Meredith for many days. She carefully nursed her new piercings, getting used to the feel of them, the soreness, the pain, which was sometimes welcome, sometimes not.
When Alain wanted her, he’d have to satisfy himself with her well-trained mouth, or take her doggy-style from behind – not always his preferred form of making love, unless, of course, he’d just punished her ass. After punishment, the cruder form of sex seemed perfectly natural. After the genital piercings, Meredith had expected more anal sex, since his access to her pussy was limited. Alain had hardly ever toyed with that special place – special because it always aroused her greatly and frightened her to the same degree. The pain she sometimes experienced during anal sex was nothing like the pain she felt during other submissive sexual acts. To her, being taken in her backdoor seemed a very submissive, very primal act, of surrender. Thankfully, Alain had always appreciated that fact and tread gently. Yet, given the necessary adjustments that needed to be made in order for the piercings to successfully heal, it seemed surprising that he didn’t exercise his desire for anal sex more frequently now. She even thought that her husband might be holding back, and she wondered why.
After the shock of the night with Robbie Carvello and his nasty needles had worn off, Meredith finally admitted what a wild ride that evening had been. The rings that pierced her nipples and inner labia were beautiful adornments she secretly treasured. Within hours they’d become signs of her master’s dominance over her life. She’d stare at them in the mirror, then carefully toy with them in anticipation of what Alain would do once the piercings healed. At first, she kept the pleasures to herself – until one evening days later when Alain caught her admiring the rings as she looked in the full-length mirror in the master bath. Apparently, he’d been there for some time, watching.
“So, what do you see there?” he finally spoke.
She jerked around, backed up and instinctively covered her breasts and crotch. “Oh, Alain, don’t! You surprised me!”
“Did I? Something wrong with admiring my wife?”
“No, nothing at all,” she replied with an embarrassed smile.
“So, what do you think of them?”
She thought a moment, uncoiling from her bound up pose and looked back in the mirror. She smiled again, rather sheepishly, then turned back toward her husband. “They belong to you, like I belong to you.” Her face was flushed, and the aroma of her sexual body seemed to rise up around her in a fragrant aura. As her eyes darkened, she moved toward him like a horny sex goddess and began to loosen his tie. Her kisses were warm and wet, her lips like soft cotton against his face. He let her have her way with him – up to a point. As she unbuckled his pants and pulled his belt free, she put the sweet-smelling leather to her nose and drank it in, then giggling, she wrapped the belt around her neck and went on to unbutton his shirt, her hands seeking his muscled chest. For a man his age, his body was still hard and firm, so sexy to her roaming fingers. His masculine energy seemed to pour into her. Though she was the aggressor in this unusual moment, he was very much in control. As long as she pleased him, she could continue with his blessing.
“You know how much you turn me on, Alain?” she purred as she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips.
“Certainly not half as much as you arouse me,” he returned. He was amused in that subtle way he had, his lips forming something just shy of a smirk. Still, she sensed what he was feeling, and pressing her hand to his crotch, felt his throbbing penis jump with life.
“Hummm,” she reacted.
“You like it so much, you get on your knees and suck it.”
He needed no more than to give her a gentle shove and her knees sank into the thick carpet, her hands reaching for his zipper. When she pushed his trousers to the floor, he parted his feet enough so that she could feel for his balls between his legs. She gently rolled them across her palm, while her mouth opened wide and took in his rising erection.
Once his passions were fully roused, he was not so gentle with her. He grabbed her by the back of the head to keep her mouth tight to his crotch and his erection suckled deep. His cock impaled her to the back of her throat, until he finally let her back away to lave the erection and his dangling testicles with her artful tongue. Her lips, her mouth, her fingers, avidly worked him to a powerful hard-on. By then, the aching was too fierce for more foreplay.
Pulling her to her feet, he thrust her to the bed and climbed on after her. Using her hair as reins, he ravaged her cunt with hard thrusts until he spewed his cream into her spasming pussy. He held her ass against his crotch, groaning until the last of his spasms had died away. Having exhausted himself, he brusquely threw her off.
“Sometimes you behave like no more than a common slut,” he exclaimed, when his breathing finally returned to normal.
“Is that wrong?” she innocently asked.
“No, not at all.”
He’d turned off the lights in the bedroom so she couldn’t see the expression on his face, but she imagined that subtle, satisfied smirk was clearly present.
Boot Camp
The training Alain promised on their truncated honeymoon was an ongoing venture.
Most days, while he was at the police station, Meredith worked on her paintings in her studio. Her white overalls had become a mess of colors, permanently stained, like the purest reflection of her scattered soul. She rarely wore anything underneath them, no t-shirt, no underwear, never a bra, occasionally a pair of panties – but only during her time of the month. Alain didn’t even have to make this an order; she thought this one up on her own and he certainly didn’t mind. She made quite a sexy picture for him to gaze on when he came home from work – the disheveled Meri lost in a world of color and brush strokes and endless daydreams. Sometimes she’d come bounding out to meet him, only to put the brakes on immediately before their first embrace. She’d learned the hard way, when an exuberant fling into her husband’s arms left a swath of paint across his suit coat. He’d been a very good sport about it…though she’d cried remorsefully over her stupid blunder. More recently, if she heard the front door open and Alain rustling about in the foyer, she would move from the studio into the hallway, and stand in the doorway, casually disconnecting the straps on her overalls, so they’d slide neatly to the floor. More than once a quick trip to the bedroom followed immediately, or maybe they wouldn’t get to the bedroom at all – the den, the living room, the kitchen, the stairs – wherever Alain wanted to use her to let off steam after a trying day – they were almost always trying days.
Being trained required Meredith’s full attention – something difficult for a dreamy romantic. There were always sessions to endure, rituals to obey and Alain’s orders to follow – enough to make her realize that she should keep a ‘boot camp’ mentality about her life until she was told otherwise. She had to be on guard, never knowing when Alain would demand her ‘front and center’ for a critical inspection. On such occasions, she learned to act fast, to draw herself from an artistic stupor within seconds, lest she earn a few swift strokes from his very nasty cane. Standing before him, she knew what he expected. She’d shed her clothes, put her hands on her head and wait for further instructions.
Honeymoon In Bondage Page 3