by Ann Jacobs
Darkness had fallen, cloaking trees in shadow but for the golden glow of a full harvest moon. “I’m going to hood you now,” he told Maggie after pulling to a stop in front of his place.
“I hate the dark,” she told him. Still, she bent her head obligingly and let him lower the lightweight hood over her face. He recalled that she kept a night light on in the bedroom at her apartment, wondered what long-ago experience had made her cringe from darkness. Something else he’d have to learn about her, he thought, a pleasurable study that might take a lifetime.
Excitement had him fumbling where his hands were usually steady, and it took extra seconds to lace the hood snugly. “There. This won’t be for long. I have a colleague—you don’t know him, but he’s another fancier of our lifestyle—who drove out here earlier. He will place my ring, and then he’ll leave. I’d do it myself, but I never want you to associate me with pain that doesn’t produce pleasure.”
“As you wish, Master.” Her voice, always soft, was muted even more by the hood. “A ring?”
“A mark of my possession, if you will.” He sensed her continuing unease, wanted to alleviate it. “One no one but you and I will ever know about, but which will enhance the pleasure for both of us. I promise.”
Eli took her hand and pulled her from the car. “It’s dark already, but there’s a full moon hanging over the water.” A breeze blew off the river, ruffled his hair. Fallen leaves crackled beneath their feet,
She trembled a little, nearly stumbled when she suddenly stopped walking. “What was that noise?”
“That’s the call some woods creature is making to his mate. Nothing to be afraid of.” Eli laced his fingers through hers. “You’ll get used to the sounds soon enough.” He hoped she would, anyhow, for retreating from the city to commune with nature was as important to his emotional wellbeing as satisfying his need for sexual dominance. He loved the sound of rushing water and the feel of a cool breeze that blew off the spring-fed river. And the distinctive sounds and smells that abounded in this country setting.
Cool, damp air hung along the path beneath tall cottonwoods and other native trees. The porch light of his cabin glowed, its yellow light beckoning him. He started walking faster when he felt Maggie shiver. Excitement coupled with a tinge of fear, he imagined, for the fall air was brisk but not unpleasantly chilly.
“Okay. We’ve got six steps here,” he said, pulling her close and wrapping his arm around her. Boards creaked below their feet, punctuated by a bobcat’s screech as they mounted the stairs.
“Oh!” Maggie stumbled, but Eli was able to grab her and steady her against his body. “What was that?”
“You caught your heel between two boards. Here, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.” He scooped her up, loving the way it felt when she trustingly looped her arms around his neck. “Welcome to the place I go to get away from it all. Three bedrooms, two baths, a fully equipped kitchen, a fireplace in the great room, and a very special playroom downstairs. I hope you’ll approve the changes I had made to accommodate our lifestyle. Since you can’t see, I’ll take you downstairs to our private playground.”
A dungeon that really was a dungeon, his contractor friend had commented when Eli had described what he wanted for a basement playroom a few months earlier. He’d never used it before, never wanted to bring a sub to his special place of refuge. Eli’s anticipation built as he carried Maggie down the steep stairs. There it was. And there was his friend, an anesthesiologist he’d met at Club Rio Brava who was finishing a subspecialty residency in Dallas. Nodding, Eli strode to the padded table in the center of the room and laid Maggie down.
“What?” She turned her head from side to side, as though she was trying to acclimate herself to her surroundings.
“You’re in our playroom. My friend is already here. Be still while I take off your clothes.” As gently as he could, for she obviously was uneasy, Eli slid off her shoes. The stockings and garter belt followed. God, but she had a gorgeous pussy, all pink and satiny smooth. He couldn’t help it, he had to taste her. Bending over her, he tongued her clit for a moment, enjoying the way she squirmed as the tiny bud grew hard and elongated.
Then, mindful of his friend’s presence, he stood and finished undressing her. Skimming his fingers along the taut, satiny skin of her torso, he asked, “Where would you like your ring?”
A Dom who gave his sub a choice? Margaret liked that. She considered the possibilities. Nipple? Navel? Her clit throbbed just then, and she made up her mind. She reached up blindly, stroked his stubbled chin. “My clit, please, Master.”
Eli caressed her still-swollen clit then stepped back. “I hoped you’d choose this hot little piece of flesh.”
She’d always wanted a clit piercing but never had the nerve to get one. Now the decision was his, but he’d given her a choice. Margaret opened her legs and relaxed, closing her eyes behind the hood. She fantasized about Eli tugging at a little gold ring with his teeth, sending arousing shards of sensation to her cunt that would radiate all through her body.
What felt like a wide restraining belt tightened around her middle, before someone—not Eli, she thought, because these hands wore gloves—brought her arms in close to her body and fastened her wrists into cuffs apparently fastened to the sides of the belt. “Put her legs up in the stirrups and we’ll get this done.” The voice was deep, definitely masculine, but she couldn’t place it. No surprise, since Eli had said she wouldn’t know him. She recognized Eli’s touch a moment later when he stroked her calves before settling her feet into devices that felt a lot like the stirrups on a GYN examining table.
“Take a deep breath now,” the stranger told her just before the pungent odor of an icy disinfectant he swabbed along her slit began to sting her nostrils. “You’re going to feel a little pinch.”
Little? It was all she could do to hold back a yelp when he sank a needle through her clit. It hurt. A lot. Perversely it also sent a shock wave of sexual pleasure through her, almost climactic in its intensity.
“All done,” Eli said, blowing gently on what she imagined was her new clit ring. That sent another delicious little orgasm coursing through her veins.
“Well, I imagine you can take care of your woman now.” Margaret sensed the stranger had stepped back, heard his footsteps as he ascended the steps. “I expect you to return the favor to me one day. I’ll be going. I have my own lady waiting for me back at Club Rio Brava.”
“Anytime. Thanks.” As she listened to the man leave, she realized she’d tensed, almost expecting Eli to offer her to the other Dom. But Eli wasn’t her old Master. She needed to relax, enjoy him. Enjoy this. Margaret wanted to trust him. Needed to trust him. She needed to sweep away old memories, make room for new ones they’d make together.
When Tom had left, Eli removed her hood then stroked her belly, her breasts. “You’re so fucking sexy. I’m hard as stone, just looking at my ring on your pretty clit.” Very gently he touched it, setting off another pang of arousal. “I love looking at it, wish I dared play with it now, wiggle it around with my tongue. Guess I’ll have to be satisfied playing with these beauties until you heal.” He pinched her nipples lightly then cupped her breasts.
“Now I’m your sex slave. I belong to you, for as long as you want me.”
“I’ll always want you, Maggie. I’m not an animal, though. I want more from you than just sexual submission.”
His look was so intense it frightened her, though his hands were gentle. Soothing as well as highly arousing. “I know. I’m just not comfortable with the “more” part. It’s so new…”
“For me, too, sweetheart.” He bent, brushed his lips over hers, the stiff hairs of his mustache tickling the sensitive skin of her upper lip. “Know this. I’ll never hurt you. You can let go with me emotionally as well as physically, the way you can’t with another human being.”
Eli’s gaze locked on her clit ring, gold and delicate, a sparkling ruby winking at him from the small captive bead. Looking wo
uld be all he dared do until she healed. “Hate to do this, baby, but we don’t want you getting an infection.” He positioned a sterile vinyl shield and smoothed its adhesive edges down to protect her new piercing from bacteria that might be lurking in the air, or on his hands and mouth. “Your cunt’s off limits for the next few days… I almost wish you’d wanted something else pierced.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
He realized it had startled her that he’d wanted her to make her choice of where her piercing should be, even if it impacted their intimacy for a short time. That her desire mattered to him. “Don’t be sorry. Anticipation will make it so much sweeter once you’re healed.” That wasn’t exactly true, because it would be pure hell for him to deny himself the pleasure of burying his cock in her sweet cunt, of taking her impudent bud between his teeth and making her squirm with desire.
Suddenly it hit him. He hadn’t even considered inviting Tom to join in their sexual games. During the years he’d lived the BDSM lifestyle, Eli had taken part in countless ménages, even a few orgies, and he’d never before failed to make the courteous offer to share his sub. Sharing was practically expected at the club up the road, as well as every other dungeon where he’d ever played.
He’d do something else for Tom, maybe another piercing for the other man’s favorite sub, Loretta—that is if Tom could find another spot on her body to be pierced. Damn it, Eli wanted Maggie all to himself. Was he in love? That was a distinct possibility. He was definitely obsessed. He knew he’d have to fight this unfamiliar possessive streak before he’d share her with another Dom, even for her own pleasure.
Maggie smiled, her tongue darting between her lips as though she wanted to taste him even while she lay passive on the table, her legs in stirrups, baring her freshly shaved pussy to his hungry gaze. Her plump labia glistened, beckoned him. “Let me please you, Master.”
Her eagerness touched him, aroused him. She seemed to love everything he’d done so far to her incredibly responsive body. His slave. No, a partner he wanted to bring to ecstasy every way he could, whom he’d protect with his life and never allow to be hurt.
Eli glanced along the dungeon walls, letting his gaze linger on the bondage swing along one of the mirrored walls. His cock turned hard as rock when he pictured Maggie there, her anus beckoning him as she lay at the proper angle and height for him to penetrate her there. He’d fondle her round, responsive breasts, place love bites on the back of her neck, in the sensitive spot he’d discovered last night, just below her hairline.
Yeah. He had to claim her there, fill her tight rear passage with his cock, make her whimper, moan and shout her satisfaction again while he took in every expression in her eyes, each curve of her body, reflected in the mirrors and imprinting themselves in his memory. Working quickly, he loosened her bonds before rubbing his fingers through her soft auburn curls. She looked wanton, no longer the staid, conservative colleague but a temptress, eager for him to take her.
He had to taste her now. Covering her mouth, coaxing her to open to him, he tongue-fucked her there, slow and easy, as gently as he intended to fuck her ass with his cock. He lifted her off the table and carried her to the swing, never breaking the kiss until he laid her there, face down, and positioned her hips and thighs in the slings on either side of the center swing. “Give me your hands, baby.”
“Anything you say, Master.” Her trust humbled him. Very gently, he fastened one hand at a time into Velcro cuffs attached to the thigh slings.
Then he reached for her collar to fasten it to the farthest strap on the swing. Damn. He’d forgotten to collar her. Reaching in his pocket, he took out a soft leather collar and crouched down in front of her. “That gold ring in your clit’s the sign that you’re mine. But I want you to wear this while we’re all alone out here,” he said, showing her the wide black leather collar with gold clasp and d-rings where he imagined he might sometimes want to attach a leash. “I’ll never ask you to wear it where others can see.”
“Thank you.” Lifting her head, baring her throat, she looked at him while he fastened it and affixed the tiny gold padlock for which he’d keep the key. “I trust you to care for me, Master.”
“I will. I promise to bring you pleasure, fulfill all the fantasies you’ve ever had. And, Maggie, trust that I’ll never hurt you.”
“I want to trust you completely.”
“Then, as your Master, I’ll make sure you can. You’re mine now.” Completing her bondage, Eli looped Velcro ties through the collar’s d-ring and secured them to the swing.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Margaret realized how helpless she was. No matter which of the images she looked at in the four mirrored walls, she saw herself, totally submissive to her new Master. She loved it. Loved being totally possessed by Eli, loved anticipating what he’d do next to make her come. Suspended in the swing, her breasts hanging free, her cunt and anus lay open, inviting her Master to stand behind her, take her in any way he chose. She envisioned him naked, stepping up to her, his cock resting against her buttocks, the large barbell that pierced it providing a cool contrast to the heat of his aroused flesh. He’d stand there, teasing her, his balls bouncing against her swollen slit until she begged him to fuck her, let her come.
She felt terribly, deliciously exposed. Erotically helpless. No need to make decisions now. Eli would make them for her. Her clit throbbed. Yes, the piercing hurt some, but there was no doubt about her arousal. Anticipation built as she imagined him touching her, suckling her, reddening her flesh with all the accouterments of the Dom he was, tools she was certain he had somewhere in this posh, secluded dungeon. The swing hung at just the right level so his cock would line up perfectly with her wet, needy pussy if he stood between her legs.
He smiled down at her, his eyes glittering with lust, though he made no move to return from the other side of the room. From the intent look on his handsome face, she guessed he must have been contemplating what delicious tortures he’d use to heighten her pleasure and his own.
She’d always loved how Eli looked, massive and powerful, as though he could take everyone’s problems on his broad shoulders and solve them. She saw those shoulders now as he stripped off a pale blue polo shirt. Thick biceps tensed, and when he reached for his belt, his abdominal muscles rippled.
He curled his belt up in one large hand, as though he knew she was imagining him using it to warm her ass. Shooting her an intent look, he tossed the belt away and shoved his pants down, stepping out of them as soon as he took off his shoes.
Somehow he looked as sexy in boxers as he would have stark naked. The cotton fabric bulged, barely able to restrain his erection. When would he take it off, come and administer whatever discipline he felt his new slave needed?
Eli stepped closer, laid a hand on his cock. Slowly, he slid his hands under the waistband of his shorts and shoved them down, freeing his massive erection. “I’m going to fuck your ass, baby, but not just yet.” Gathering some things from a drawer, he brought them along as he approached her. “Easy, now, I’m about to clamp your nipples.
“Yes, Master.” She wanted to scream with the initial pain. Then, when he tightened the clamps on both nipples, she could barely keep from shouting out with the ecstasy that radiated all through her body. The pressure built, grew so intense she closed her eyes and moaned.
“Look.” She couldn’t ignore his hoarsely growled order.
Glancing at the closest mirror, she saw it, a thick gold chain with a weight dangling from it, attached to the nipple clamps, pulling rhythmically against her tightly clamped nipples. “Oh, yesss, Master. Fuck me, please.”
“I will.” Bending, he took her lips and plunged his tongue deep down her throat. Too soon he broke the kiss, sucked her lower lip between his teeth for just a moment before letting go. “I’m not going anywhere, my precious slave. Not until I have you screaming with pleasure.
Moving behind her, Eli adjusted the height of the swing. Then he bent over her, and nipped that s
ensitive spot on the back of her neck, just below her hairline—the one he’d bruised last night. With every touch of his hands, each moist breath he took, her arousal grew. Slowly, without the urgency that drove her, he traced along the curve of her spine. “You’re one gorgeous woman, and you’re all mine,” he murmured, tracing around her asshole with one finger.
Margaret soaked in each touch, every breath. The touch of his tongue as he licked his way down her spine was as erotic a sensation as she recalled ever having experienced. The reflection aroused her, a picture of her helplessness, his mastery. He’d leashed his strength, restrained bulging muscles that quivered as he held back. His concern for her welfare was evident every time he touched her. She should have expected it, for he treated his patients with a similar concern.
When he stroked her legs, he sighed. “You don’t know how many times I’ve looked at you, imagined your long, beautiful legs wrapped around my waist. My neck.”
“Unfasten me and I’ll make that fantasy come true.” Truth was, she didn’t want him to release her yet. She loved the feeling of helplessness, trusted he’d deliver even greater pleasure than he had last night…or along the side of a deserted road an hour earlier.