by K D Grace
The sting of it made his eyes water and caused the muscles of his shoulders to rise and knot. He forced himself to breathe through it.
‘It hurts, Nick,’ she said, cupping his bound balls, then bending to kiss his cock on the tip, which was already pearled with precome. ‘And it’ll hurt worse before I’m done. Much worse.’ Then she stood and kissed him hard, her tongue dancing joyously against his, and he knew the joy of it. He felt it through his whole body, felt it through the pain of his thighs and the ache in his muscles, just as she brought the crop down hard on his left arse cheek. He hissed the pain into her mouth and she swallowed it back. Then she stepped away and trailed the crop up over his balls, over his belly, bringing the tip of it to a sharp, quick snap against each of his nipples, which were already painfully hard. Then she kissed him again.
‘Oh Christ, Elsa!’
She swallowed his words and stepped back. ‘Shall I stop?’
He shook his head.
‘Then be quiet.’ She pinched his nipples until her image became a distorted blur through his streaming eyes, and then she stepped behind him. The sting of the first few lashes felt like fire across his bare arse. She crowded in until he could feel her still-clothed breasts pressed against his back, and then she gave his balls a cupping. ‘Though I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, I’ll remind you that you’re not to come until I give you permission, or the punishment won’t bear thinking about.’ She kneaded and stroked. ‘I can already feel how full you are. How badly you need relief. You see, Nick, sometimes pain isn’t all that far removed from pleasure.’
She laid a crisscross of stripes over his cheeks, stopping to caress and kiss, making him wait in terrible anticipation, as she examined her work, traced the welts with her fingers, kneaded his buttocks, squeezed them together to press against the knot that dug at his anus, an act that made his breath catch and his cock surge, an act that forced him into shallow breathing and futile attempts to relax.
‘And now, Nick, I need to come.’ She moved back in front of him, and while he watched, she slid out of the cargo pants and kicked them to one side, but she left the sheathed knife belted at her waist. When his cock stretched toward her and his hips thrust forward as much as they could under the circumstances, she gave him a careless stroke. ‘Not on your cock, not just yet. I want you to lick my pussy.’
Before Nick had time to wonder how the hell he could manage that, she stepped up onto a kneeling bench that looked as though it might have been pulled straight from an old church, gave a leap, and heaved herself up to grab a metal bar riveted to the ceiling. From there, shoulders mounded, biceps bunched, with the grace of a gymnast, she settled her legs around his neck and shifted and moved until her pussy was so close that the scent of her alone was nearly enough to make him come, and he was breathing shallowly to hold his wad. ‘Lick my pussy, Nick. I’m all wet and swollen from playing with you, so lick my pussy, and make me come.’
He strained his shoulders against the rope to nose-dive into her wet depths. Her clit was diamond hard and he’d never seen her so heavy. There was a brief second of satisfaction in knowing that he was turning her on as much as she was him. Then he drew his tongue up through the pout of her, tasting her dark sweetness. He found himself wondering how the hell he could keep from shooting his wad with her literally up in his face.
She hadn’t asked him to make it last, and in truth she couldn’t manoeuvre much more than he could, hanging from the ceiling as she was, so he gave two long licks from her tight little arsehole all the way up her slit, lingering to slurp and nibble her labia, before he nipped her clit hard, and she came, practically smothering him in the reflexive grip of well-muscled thighs. And then he was shallow breathing again.
‘Oh Nick Chase, you’re a very naughty boy,’ she said when she caught her breath. She dropped back onto the ground and stripped off the tank top and the belt so she stood as naked as he was. ‘You hurried through my orgasm, didn’t you? Because you didn’t know if you could hold your load. That’s cheating.’ She leant in and kissed his face, wet with her juices. ‘Two things. First, I can come as often as I want with or without your contribution, and second, since you were a naughty boy, I can make you watch as a part of your punishment for cheating.’
With that, she pulled a small table and a chair in front of him. Then she opened a black leather case onto the table. There in its velvet-lined interior was a large selection of dildos, butt-plugs, and anal beads. She laid the crop next to the case and selected a dildo that was about the size of Nick’s cock. It looked as though it might be made of lapis lazuli. Then she settled into the chair and opened her legs wide. ‘And now, Nick, my pleasure will be your punishment.’ She fellated the dildo until Nick moaned, then teased it up into her grudging pussy only a little, before she pulled it out and rubbed it up, over, and around her clit. Then she pushed it back in a little farther. She repeated the process with infinite patience as though Nick weren’t even there, as though his cock weren’t stretching out to her in desperate empathy with the dildo. He watched breathless, mesmerized, aching. It felt like for ever, and yet it felt like a heartbeat before she finally began to thrust and squirm and ride the stone shaft, pinching first her nipples, then her clit.
Nick couldn’t breathe. He didn’t dare breathe. His load pressed hard at the boundary of his endurance. One breath and he knew he would come. He held it, held it tight.
‘Don’t you dare close your eyes, Nick. You look at me while I come,’ Elsa ordered. And she did. She came, she gushed, she nearly bounced off the chair, and her juices flooded the seat. And Christ, Nick held his breath, Nick held everything. And just when the wave passed, just when he was about to congratulate himself for surviving her orgasm, quick as a cat, she grabbed the crop and brought it up with a sharp snap against his balls from underneath, and he howled with the sting of it. ‘My pleasure, your pain, Nick.’
She selected another dildo, shoved it home. Once it was liberally coated with her juices, she shifted until Nick could see her anus, and she began to worry the tight O of it with the dildo. ‘My pleasure, your pain’ she grunted, biting her lip, ‘And I promise when we’re finished here you won’t know the difference, nor will you care.’ She gave his balls two more sharp upward smacks, and then, as she pushed the dildo home in her anus, she selected another to fill her pussy. This time when she came, she roared like a lioness and nearly fell off the chair, flicking Nick’s upper thighs lightning fast with the crop. He clenched and held his breath and swore in his head.
For a split second, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, she sat studying him. She studied him until the discomfort he felt spread upward from his heavy balls to the clutching pit of his stomach. Then she inhaled deeply as though she’d just stepped out into the fresh air. From the case, she selected a string of anal beads that matched the lapis dildo. The string began with a bead slightly larger than a pearl and graduated to one slightly smaller than a ping pong ball. She ran them across her palm, her eyes locked on his. Then, one by one, she inserted them into her mouth, before pulling them out again. Nick gulped a breath, feeling the tension move upward from his belly to clench at his chest.
It was only as she stood and moved behind him that he realised what was about to happen. As she worried the knot of rope aside to reveal his anus, for a brief second he was certain he would pass out. There was no getting his head around what she was about to do, no holding back the blush that was way more than embarrassment, the blush that was humiliation and fear as her hands competently separated his burning arse cheeks. He heard the squirt of lube, felt first her cool, slick finger and then the smallest of the beads breached his sphincter. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t tense, he didn’t move at all, as slowly, teasingly, she inserted bead after bead, pausing in between to kiss his wounded arse cheeks, his stinging balls, the tip of his straining cock.
Christ, how could such tenderness be so closely entwined with his humiliation? Fuck if he didn’t feel like a little
kid about to cry. But he held it, feeling himself stretched and breached and pushed, yielding to each bead until at last Elsa leant forward, kissed the clench of his anus, and returned the knot of rope to its place.
‘There, all done. And now, where were we? Oh yes, I was about to come again, wasn’t I?
And fuck if she didn’t! She began by smacking her clit with the crop while he clenched in empathy, then she squatted deep and open over the kneeling bench and gushed her juices as she convulsed in a fierce, backbreaking orgasm.
‘Oh, that was a good one, Nick. I get so turned on thinking about those beads stimulating you up inside your asshole while I play with myself. It’s exquisite, isn’t it?’
This time she used the crop first on his balls and then brought it down with a hard snap against his perineum. He clenched with all his might, the beads shuddering and massaging inside him. He swallowed his frustration, his desperate need, as her lashes with the crop became random, first to his thighs, then his arse, then his nipples then his balls, and then he lost track. All he could do was clench and hold and breathe when he could remember to breathe. And still the crop moved over him in a dance of pain that at some point was joined by the slide of her tongue and the press of her lips and the breeze of her breath. He felt his own need like fire in his balls, spreading upward to consume him, to swallow him whole until he was gone, Nick Chase was gone, and that he had ever existed at all seemed like a dream. The only thing that existed, the only thing that was real was Elsa Crane, controlling the world, his world. And yet he held on. He held on for her, the woman who, at this moment, he hated, the woman who he loved enough to endure this moment for and more. And he knew that he would endure whatever it took to convince her to let him into her life.
At last, she brought the crop up with a light sting against his perineum, then, with a movement that was as graceful as it was dangerous, she reached behind him and gave the string attached to the beads a hard yank. Nick’s cry roared through the dungeon like something physical just before he bit it back hard and lapsed into desperate, shallow gasps for breath. Elsa slung the beads across the dungeon with a yell that sent chills up his spine, her breath sounding like a windstorm raging through her chest.
‘I told you I would hurt you, Nick,’ she gasped. Droplets of sweat glistened between her breasts. Tendrils of auburn hair curled damp around her face, escaped from the ponytail, and her eyes held him in blue heat. And Jesus, she looked like a goddess; in spite of everything she’d done to him, she looked like heaven itself. ‘I told you I would hurt you,’ she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘How much more pain will you take?’
‘As much as I have to,’ he managed between gulps for air. ‘I told you, I trust you to take me there.’
The sob that escaped her throat was wild-animal harsh. She dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled him against her, hands cupping his wounded arse, face nestled against his damp pubic curls. Then she took him in her mouth and began to suck, her tongue snaking up the underside of his penis, and he cried out and held on tight. When she pulled away, she grabbed the knife from its sheath and, in a mad flurry, sliced up through the webbing of rope in a rapid series of moves that caused him to fall forward when the bonds at his wrists were cut, caused him to fall forward into her arms. She shoved off the last of the rope along with his ruined T-shirt and helped him to the bondage bed. She must have seen the look of dread on his face because she kissed him and offered a laugh that was more like a sob.
‘It’s over, Nick. You’ve had enough.’ She settled back onto the bed and gently guided him between her legs. ‘You need to come now, and I want to make you feel good, so good.’
He literally fell into her. There was no finesse, just raw, jagged need that tore at him from someplace way deeper than his wounded balls, and Elsa Crane felt like home, warm and wet and waiting for him. Every part of him hurt, and yet somehow he had moved beyond it to a place where everything seemed clearer, brighter, and Elsa was there for him, like she had never been before. Her body grounded him, held him, sustained him, and he came in gut-wrenching waves, convulsing in sobs as she returned the favour. Then she reached for the red silk sheet and pulled it over them before he lost consciousness.
When he woke, she cradled his head and held a bottle of cold water to his parched lips. And when he’d drunk his fill, she wrapped him in a soft robe and led him up the stairs to a shower, where she bathed him carefully and lovingly. And though he was exhausted, the need for her still overrode even that, and he took her there against the tiles, spilling into her mindlessly with very little foreplay. Then she dried him and helped him into a bed in the adjoining room, where she gently lotioned his sore arse and all the other bits of him that hurt.
There was a soft knock at the door and someone handed in a breakfast tray, which she set for him. He ate ravenously and she watched, all the while saying nothing. As it had been when they were Leo’s pets, there seemed to be little need for words and that surprised him. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, when he had eaten and pushed the tray away.
‘I’ve never experienced that level of intimacy.’ He struggled to find words. ‘The physical pain – well, that was just a part of what happened. The experience was so far beyond that.’ He looked up into her eyes and found himself blushing. ‘I didn’t expect that.’
Her eyes misted and she smoothed his hair with a fingertip. ‘That’s why I’ve never wanted to return to the dungeon after that first time. Ultimately, that’s why Edgar didn’t pursue me, why he left everything to me. I didn’t know that at the time. I thought it was The Mount making him an offer he couldn’t refuse. I didn’t know otherwise until last night. Pike told me.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Nick said.
‘Yes you do, Nick. What happens in the dungeon, for me, is too intimate to share with anyone else. I’m not a good sub because I can’t communicate sexually from that position, and there’s never been anyone I trusted enough to allow them to be my sub because it lays us both bare, and I just couldn’t.’ She looked down at her hands, fisted in the bedding. ‘And then you came along, and I wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand.’
He pulled her into his arms and held her. ‘Elsa, I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to scare you away, but you have to know that I love you, and that I’ll take the pain you offer me and give it back to you the way you need it to be. You have to understand that.’
She raised her lips to his. ‘Then I will hurt you, Nick, and I’ll try very hard to show you how much I love you back, if you’ll let me.’
Chapter Twenty-three
Nick couldn’t make out where the rooftop garden in which they were all celebrating was. He’d been blindfolded when he’d been brought there. When he asked Elsa why, she said that blindfolds were sexy and he was, after all, still learning the ropes, even if he was no longer fulfilling Tanya’s contract. Besides, she said, every voyeur likes blindfold scenes and initiations. What they were doing tonight was a bit of both, and it would be very well watched. Wherever he was, the night sky was clear and bright above them and the lights of Vegas twinkled like jewels below. Elsa told him that when a Mount coven convened, the place often felt as though it were somehow outside of time and space. Perhaps that was thanks to all of the sexual energy. He couldn’t imagine there being a place that would have more sexual energy than a meeting of the Mount Vegas team.
When the blindfold was removed, he had eyes only for the woman in front of whom he knelt naked. Though his tender bits were well on the mend and the altered state he’d felt in the dungeon was long gone, Elsa Crane still looked like a goddess to him, standing over him in a midnight blue robe. She smiled down at him and offered him her hand. ‘Nicolas Crane Chase, I welcome you into our family, now your family. I welcome you into Mount Vegas, now your home. I welcome you into The Mount, now your people. Arise and take your rightful place.’
As he rose, Pike and Beetle came forward and helped him into a robe that m
atched Elsa’s, and Elsa Continued. ‘I claim you, Nicolas Crane Chase, I claim you as our own. I claim you for this coven. I claim you for our joys, for our sorrows; I claim you for our celebrations, for our desolations; I claim you for our work and for our play. I claim you to be one of us, to be one with us on this journey.’
She took him into her arms and held him, and he returned the favour as the rest of the Mount Vegas Coven – and now it truly was a coven – gathered around to welcome their newest member.
Rita, Edward, and Leo had stayed on for the initiation, but the experience was being watched worldwide. Rita’s mother, Coraline Martelli, along with the Roman Coven’s High Council, watched from Rome. Also watching were representatives from the High Councils of the New York City Coven, the Paris Coven, the Buenos Aires Coven, and the Houston Coven. They had watched the raising of Mount Vegas to full coven status and the embracing of their newest member, and they now celebrated Mount Vegas’ achievements vicariously from afar.
And there was a lot to celebrate. Tanya was now back in the welcoming arms of her coven family as a hero. Thanks to her and Elsa’s efforts, Victor Havers and his gang of corrupt cops were jailed with the promise of very long prison sentences. Because of their efforts, Mount Vegas’s position in that grey area of Vegas life was stronger than ever. In fact they were even safer and more secure under the subtle but powerful protection of The Mount. Nick was still trying to get his head around how powerful the organisation really was. But those thoughts couldn’t hold his attention for long, not when Elsa stood there at his side, her fingers laced through his.