Damn my big mouth!
Two
Ten days ago, I signed a contract. Weird, but again, my taste in naughty literature made the experience entirely acceptable if bizarre.
It seemed peculiar to think that I, Marina Joy Denison, pain in the ass extraordinaire was agreeing to this stuff. But the weirdest thing was, did my hand shake as I signed it?
No.
Did every part of scream, “Fuck, yes! I want this?”
Yeah.
It’s a bit like I’m in a parallel universe, but hey, if I get off on this stuff, I get off on it. And Nate, well... he’s just perfect. He always was but somehow, this all makes it better. I wish I could describe why. He just is. It’s like I was made for him and he was made for me. Ha, maybe one of the Fates matches subs with their Doms.
After that particular episode, the turbulence in my brain calmed down. Just knowing that he didn’t expect me to be his fuck slave, a mindless body that he could use and abuse... well, as you can imagine, it eased my concerns. And his words, that he didn’t need to punish to play, triggered my dirty little mind into thinking all sorts of naughty things. So, when he presented me with a contract, I was excited. I could tell he’d gone to the effort of writing it himself, because it was tailor-made to my ‘quirks’ and somehow, when I signed my name, something deep inside me sighed with relief.
I agreed to uphold his six major rules.
Or the six commandments as I’d come to think of them.
Thou shalt not lie.
Thou shalt not defy me.
Thou shalt not cum without my permission nor touch thy form without my say so.
Thou shalt not leave Blue Ridge without me until thou art judged to be a ‘good’ girl. (I.e. free from contacts with the mafia. Hell, even though the idea makes me claustrophobic, I did get him shot, after all!)
Thou shalt comply with direct orders.
Thou shalt not curse.
And ever since my ulcer diagnosis, I guess he’s made it a round seven.
Thou shalt eat!
I also had to agree to maintain a smooth as silk pussy and fuck; I didn’t need to sign my life away to agree to that! I swear, it makes velvet feel abrasive. And when I’m wet, something that occurs embarrassingly often, I’m even slicker. It’s the craziest, most delicious feeling I’ve ever known. In fact, I don’t even know why I haven’t had a wax before!
The most interesting aspect of the contract was the play list.
To the clientele interested in BDSM play at Papillon, I had to give them a play list. To the subs, they had to fill one out. To the Doms, they needed to be aware of Rosalie and Jessie’s limits.
They’re long. Filled with acts that to me are very icky, like water sports, and then the bizarre, mummification. So, to see the modified and short version told me that these were things Nate was interested in.
It gave me an insight into the man, and if I’m honest, turned me on. I swear, I’ve never spent so much time drenched down there!
If it weren't so thrilling, it would be off-putting.
I had to rate from one, NEVER, to five, DEFINITELY. Anything over two was fair game.
Bondage (light) 4
Collars (leather) 5
Cuffs (leather) 5
Gags (ball) 4
Harnessing (suspended) 2
Intricate rope bondage 4
Leather restraints 4
Shackles 2
Spreader-bars 5
Spread-eagle 5
Corsets (wearing) 5
Caning 3
Clip and Clamps 3
Flogging 3
Spanking (over knee) 5
Spanking (other) 5
Wax 3
Ice 3
Whipping (single tail) 2
Whipping (other) 3
Blindfolded 5
Housework (nude, collared) 5
Piercing (permanent) 4
Phone sex 5
Teasing 5
Tickling 5
Just the idea of being subjected to any of it had me quivering inside. Nothing on there had entirely freaked me out; there were just some things that were way outside of my comfort zone. I knew, as I looked down the list my baby steps into this world were leading me in the right direction.
And with Nate having calmed down a tad, letting me realize that I don’t have to walk around with my mouth zipped up and making a Stepford Wife look outspoken, I’ve been feeling a ton better about this situation. Am I slightly pissed with him about making me feel that way in the first place?
Hell, yeah!
Talk about a crappy belief to insert into a newbie’s head; that she has to be an angel, or else?! But let’s face it; the man just took a bullet for me. He’d been in hospital for four weeks, had just been discharged and through the pain and discomfort, had to be tossed around in a small plane before he could get home.
Yeah, I wouldn’t be a happy bunny, either, so as much as he could have led me gently into this whole new world, I understand why he didn’t. The pain in and of itself... every day, even though he’s improving and the infection has now cleared up, his suffering is etching its way on to his face. The lines either side of his mouth were once slight, but now they’re thick brackets. I did that. Me. So yeah, I can forgive him for scaring me a little, especially now he’s softened up and returning to the Nate I know of old, but one with a strong streak that has my knees quivering.
And many other bits in between.
How long have I been strapped up like this? In a kinky version of the yoga asana, bow?
About forty minutes. I’m not in an uncomfortable position, I’m just very exposed.
The rope I found in the box is stuff that porn films are made of. Plaited hemp rope that constrains and binds but is flexible too. My ankles are tied together with three loops of the rope around each foot and then bound in the middle. I don’t know the terminology, but think of a hangman’s noose. That long, thin partition of coiled rope before the noose is what separates my feet, but my ankles are crossed so that my thighs are spread. The thick rope rests between my butt cheeks and I can feel the prickles of the fabric tickling my skin and the pucker of my ass. It connects my feet to my hands, which are bound behind my back and my wrists are tied together. My belly is on the mattress, a small vibrator is buzzing away inside my spread pussy lips and I think if I’m not touched soon, I might just scream.
He’s here, watching. I think if I’d been alone, I would have screamed out of fright. This is the first time he’s restrained me like this. Tying me to the bed is one thing, but this is a lot more in-depth and very much bondage.
My breath is a hop, skip and a jump away from panicked inhalations and exhalations, but knowing he’s there, calms me down. It’s strange how his presence changes all of my perceptions and soothes me. Trust. I’ve never felt it to this degree. When I signed that contract, stating that I was putting myself into his safe-keeping, I know that to be the truth and I could not have agreed to that with any other man.
It’s peculiar being on the borderline of panicked yet relaxed, frustrated yet satiated. It’s a world of contrasts. While my pussy is literally weeping with the need to climax, my brain is humming in satisfaction. Why? My Sir’s attention is entirely on me, exactly where I like it. I can’t move, I’m his to play with, to toy with and to enjoy. It’s thrilling to be in such a strong man’s sights and know that nothing is intruding upon his mind. Nothing but thoughts of what he’s going to do to you.
It’s one of the most intense experiences of my life and even if the vibrator hadn’t been set to drive me nuts, I think there would still be a wet patch underneath me on the sheets.
Yoga taught me patience, even if the body is contorted and fixed in uncomfortable positions, so a part of me can relax with ease and just listen and wait. As I do just that, I hear him moving about and while I’d like to know what he’s doing, curiosity is a failing of mine, I just stay in the pose. Whatever it is, I trust him and my pussy is ready for it.
&n
bsp; I haven’t actually misbehaved. Or, that is to say, I was punished this afternoon for back-chatting. This is for play so I’m praying that there is light or should I say release at the end of the tunnel.
Shoving the thought out of my mind, something that Sir inadvertently aids me to do thanks to the touch of his hand on my butt; I return my attention to him. The brush of his fingers over the sensitive flesh of my spanked ass has me trembling a little and then, I feel something... The bonds at my butt being tugged away. The rope dissecting my ass is shifted, my feet are pulled back so they’re no longer resting close to my butt and a cold, metallic nodule slips down over my bared rosette and between my fiery hot lips. I shudder, there’s no way I can contain it. The cold metal is probably room temperature but against such heat, it might as well be ice.
The nodule moves up and down, nudging my clit and making it sit up and take notice, slipping along the outer lips of my sex and the tip slips into the entrance of my body, prodding the bullet a little further into my depths. The buzz spreads to the larger nodule, doubling the surface vibration and my legs tense in reaction, urging my hips up off the bed as the shock reverberates around my system. I cry out and hear his chuckle as he continues to swirl the nodule through my copious juices and then, it slides up and prods the pucker of my ass. Gently but firmly, he presses it into the pucker until the tip is in. It’s only as my butt registers the width of the remaining excess that I whimper a little.
Nate must have heard my nervousness, because he murmurs, “It’s no wider than my cock, princess.”
He’s started to call me that. I don’t know where the hell it has come from, but I like it. I don’t want to be called Marina here, just like Nate is Sir. I can’t explain it. It makes me feel special, important but at the same time, beneath him.
Kneeling behind me, he lowers himself down and presses against my side. I’m so glad his bionic hand exists, as he can use his real one to touch me and embrace me while the other does the business, as it were. There’s nothing, I’m learning, more important than touch. Skin to skin contact.
Pressed against him, his hand rubbing up and down my spine, I turn my head to look at him. His eyes are drenched with lust; the blue in his hazel eyes is prominent. A cold fire burns in their depths. I notice this in the two seconds I glance at him, before lowering my eyes to his mouth. My own lips tremble with the need to kiss and he recognizes that, because he leans over and drops the lightest peck on my mouth.
That slight kiss acts like an earthquake as controlled need suddenly explodes out of its container. I want to eat his lips, to have him tongue fuck my mouth. I pull back, knowing if we stay close I’ll do something he’ll punish me for and despite myself, I find I can live within the constraints of his rules so long as I’m not a washed out version of myself. I don’t want him to punish me, I want this. To connect to fulfill a need. Not because I’ve misbehaved.
So even though it hurts, I back away and push my head to the mattress again. My eyes close as his other hand continues to work the butt plug into my rosette. I’ve never felt anything like it. Wide, but sleek. Cold but warming from the slightest touch. Large but not discomforting and as my ass accepts the entire plug, the tab settles unobtrusively against the pucker.
The sleek nodule is pushed against the bullet vibrator and the intense vibrations double in their strength once more. I bite down, taking the comforter into my mouth and chewing on the fabric. My legs strain and pull until cramps start to eat into the muscles from the force I’m exerting.
The instant I took the butt plug, Nate had moved away and as my muscles start to protest being so fiercely clenched, I can feel his fingers working quickly at the ties of the ropes around my feet. Once free, my legs fall to the bed, still spread, but Nate’s fingers start to manipulate the muscles of my calves and work at the small knots gathering there. I’d rather he remove the butt plug but I don’t say anything ̶ I can’t! My mouth is full of bed sheet!
A tap to my butt has my hips jerking up and as his hands work at the ties at my wrists, he orders, “Stop clenching your muscles.”
Yeah, that’s easier said than done, when it feels like my pussy is shuddering from the fierce vibrations oscillating around its tender walls.
I force my feet toward my shins, reversing the cramp and that stays the muscle spasms until my hands are free and I’m being rolled over on to my back. As soon as I do, moisture starts to slip down between the crevice of my butt, reminding me of how turned on I am. But also, the plug settles, making the vibration worse.
As I’d lain there, tied and restrained, knowing he was watching me, desperate to cum and begging for something to happen, I hadn’t realized this would be it.
Now, I want to scream from the need ricocheting through me. Because for whatever reason, the vibrations aren’t enough but they’ve slammed me to the edge of a climax and I need something else to happen to push me over.
Out of nowhere, a riding crop appears. My eyes widen at the sight, even though I recognize it from the box and Nate’s smile has me cringing a little. He does nothing, just rests it beside me and then, grabs a hold of my feet and tugs me down to the bottom of the bed. Spreading my legs, he grabs the ropes he’d just released me from and ties my feet loosely to the bedpost.
“How badly do you need to cum, princess?” he asks as he works.
“Very badly, Sir.”
“Why should I reward you?”
“I’ve been good today, Sir.”
“Have you? I thought I punished you for back chatting and cursing.”
My lips quiver. “I was working and wasn’t hungry. And Sam deserved to be cursed at, Sir. He asked for fifty grand like he wants to buy a bag of fifty cent candy!”
“Sam might deserve it, but there’s no need to curse. Your vocabulary is wide enough that you can chew him out without breaking a rule. And yes, you might have been working, but your health supersedes your work, doesn’t it? That’s a Rule.”
“I know, Sir. I forgot.”
“And is that acceptable?”
“No, Sir.”
“So, do you deserve a reward?”
“Not really, Sir.” Even though my heart sinks, I don’t complain. I’d hoped my spanking of before would have wiped the slate clean. I know that had it been for another reason, it would have done. But the fact I’d refused to eat the plate of food he’d brought me this morning had done more than just annoy him. My health and the three-pound weight gain I’ve managed so far take precedence.
Even above his own wounds.
But then, it’s the opposite for me. I guess that’s how this works. I can’t stop thinking about the bandages on his belly! So why should he be able to accept that I’m underweight?
“Honesty is good, princess. What will you do the next time I bring you food?”
“Try and eat it, Sir.”
“Yes. That’s all I wanted. You didn’t have to eat every bite. Just a nibble would have been enough.” His hands are resting at my ankle, but now, they travel down over each calf, above the knee and smooth over my thighs. “Those three pounds make a difference, princess.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, Sir.”
“I want you to be healthy. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I know,” I breathe, at that moment, feeling unutterably cherished. That I’m being punished for being unhealthy because I matter that much to him is perversely pleasing.
“Good.” One hand remains on my thigh, the other goes to the crop. “Let’s negotiate a deal, princess.”
“Sir?” I ask, eyes wide. This is new. And has potential. My pussy tingles at the idea.
The instant I register that, I regret it. It was a bad move to think of the throbbing ache deep inside my cunt.
“How many lashes of the crop could you take, princess? To your clit?” he adds, eyes sparkling when my mouth opened to answer his first question.
Lips trembling at the second, I whisper, “I don’t know, Sir.”
“Let’s give yo
u an idea of how it feels.” He moves to the side of the bed, presses one knee to the mattress and with the crop in his hand, he hovers it between my thighs. I watch as the flat leather pocket at the tip of the crop swings down and tense in preparation for the jolt. A hiss escapes me as the sting makes itself known but is otherwise manageable.
I blow out a breath, when he asks, “Well?”
“Ten, Sir.”
He hums under his breath. “That isn’t many.” My slight whimper of disagreement has his mouth tightening. “Do you want to cum, princess?” he asks again.
“Very much, Sir.”
“My negotiation is this. You’ll endure as many lashings as it takes to cum.”
Eyes bugging out of my head, I stare at him and whisper, “Can I do that, Sir? Is that possible?”
He smiles. “You’re about to learn it is.”
The free hand resting on his knee drops down to between my legs. The butt plug is tugged a little, maneuvered, then I feel a click, and suddenly, a vibration starts there. I can’t help it. I scream. Loudly. It echoes around the room, penetrating the silence of the mid-evening. Sir’s hand shoots out and claps against my mouth. The garbled cry is still audible and he bites out, “Hold your tongue!”
I do so, literally. But with my teeth. I bite down, taste blood and watch as he rushes off somewhere and returns with a gag. He shoves it in my mouth, the taste of plastic and chemicals is horrible but I accept it and bite down. The long, high groans are still easy to hear, but it’s like they’re passing through water first. Only my tight clasp of the gag holds it in my mouth, he doesn’t bother to tie it around my head.
He resettles himself and to the constant cry escaping me, the low endless release of sound my body is forcing out of me, he begins to swat my pussy. I don’t even bother counting; just try to make myself cum. I clench down on the bullet, on the plug, but that just makes the vibrations pulse all the harder. It’s almost painful; the ceaseless throb has a sob working in my throat. I’ve never cried so much in my life, but the ever ready tears are there, present and waiting to fall.
Frustrated Instincts (Marina: Part Three: Naughty Nookie Series) Page 3