Comfort 4: Command Performance

by Annabel Joseph

  “It’s beautiful on you, baby.”

  She flushed at his softly spoken compliment. The collar was narrow and light but it felt heavy around her neck, perhaps because of all it represented. Her submission, the fact that she was willing to give herself over to whatever he desired. Mason nodded toward the bed. “Lie down. Face down, on your tummy. Spread your arms and legs for me.”

  She tried to look sexy as she did it, even though her limbs stiffened with nervousness. She spread her arms to the side and parted her legs while he rooted around in his suitcase. She heard the clink of metal. Nipple clamps? She wondered what they would feel like, if they would hurt more or less than his fingers when he pinched her. Some cuffs landed beside her, soft black leather with finished edges. They looked expensive and well made, like the ones attached to his dungeon furniture back home. A rectangular strap came next, in matching black leather with a tooled handle. Holy shit. It looked heavy, like it could really do some damage. He wouldn’t damage her...would he?

  He returned to the bed, stopping at the foot and pushing her legs much farther apart. She lay still, quivering and nervous, her face buried in the sheets. He fitted the cuffs around her ankles, then fixed each cuff with rope to some point under the bed. He came around to her arms, taking one wrist and securing it. Before he cuffed her other wrist, he stopped and gazed into her eyes. What did he see? The fear she felt? The longing?

  “Don’t be scared,” he said.

  Don’t be scared. You’re made for me.

  When she was completely tied down, he stood and put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to spank you, naughty girl, and then you’re going to stand in the corner with nipple clamps on. It’s going to hurt, but you deserve it, don’t you?”

  Miri didn’t know whether to start bawling or laugh out loud. “Answer ‘Yes, Sir,’” he prompted.

  “Yes, Sir,” she squeaked out. Oh God, yes, yes, please, Sir...

  He crawled onto the bed beside her and picked up the strap. She tested the cuffs in some kind of last minute hysteria, but no, she couldn’t get away. She braced for pain but he started with some pretty mild cracks. The sound freaked her out more than anything. Sensation-wise, it barely stung and she felt kind of let down. She’d expected something a bit more exciting. He continued hitting her ass with the strap, getting a little harder along the way, but nothing to really make her flinch.

  Then he stopped. That’s it? She turned to look up at him but he frowned. “Face down, naughty girl.”

  She turned her eyes back down to the bed, burying her face in the covers. He made some small sound she couldn’t interpret, and then his palm smoothed over her ass cheeks and up to the small of her back. He pressed down, as if to brace her. And then...

  Holy fucking mother.

  She tried to twist away as the sting spread across her bottom. That, then, was a real stroke. The rest had been a warm up, preparation. He hit her again, still holding her down. When she jumped, his palm stilled her, along with the cuffs that held her fast. She couldn’t get away—that was the hottest part of it, the thing that had her pussy flaring with almost unbearable lust. The pain was amazing. In the haze of surprise and shock, she tried to sort out whether she liked it or not. Crack!

  She cried out, then dropped her head and whimpered into the sheets. He strapped her again, and again, and soon her small whimpers became a long, tormented moan. This was real pain, not slaps and tickles. His hand grounded her, along with the cuffs, but her ass still burned like living hell. What was that word he’d told her when they were working on the blowjobs? Lollipops. Lollipops was their safeword, but she didn’t want to use it. This was too thrilling, too intense.

  She’d lost count of the strokes already. She just knew they were steadily getting harder, and she wondered how far he would go. She didn’t want to have to stop him. She wished he would stop before she was forced to complain. But oww...fuck. Her ass was on fire, a fire that got hotter with every stroke he dealt her.

  “Are you learning a lesson, naughty girl?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir, I’m learning a lesson. Please...” Please stop. But please don’t.

  He stopped. She was disappointed but she knew she probably couldn’t have taken much more. The strap fell back on the bed beside her and again she felt the cool palm across her super-heated cheeks, stroking, cupping, squeezing. She wanted to grind against the bed, arch back into him, beg for more sex. The strapping had hurt but it made her feel alive physically, made her feel intense sexual excitement. It made her crazy for him. She lay there shaking with lust, waiting to see what came next. He knelt down, undid the cuffs from her wrists and ankles but left them secured to the bed. She hoped that meant he planned to use them again soon. Once her ass recovered, that was.

  “Sit up,” he said in a stern voice. “Sit right on the edge of the bed.”

  She did as he asked. He looked her over with a sultry stare. “Back straight. Breasts out.”

  Oh, the command in his voice. She felt it between her legs like the thrust of a cock. She complied, straightening her back and pushing her chest forward. She knew what was coming even before he crossed back to his bags for the nipple clamps. He fiddled with them a little, turning a screw on each one. A delicate silver chain connected the two together. It hung down from his fingers, mesmerizing in the low light. She was too shy to look him in the face.

  He stepped close to her, put a hand on each knee and pressed her legs apart so her wet pussy was bared to his gaze. “Keep them that way.” She chanced a glimpse at him. He looked back expectantly.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, remembering. She was rewarded with a slight softening of his eyes.

  “You’re learning. A little corner time will give you even more time to think things through.”

  Yes, she needed time to think things through. This scene was affecting her more deeply than she’d expected, in ways she hadn’t foreseen. She felt powerless, but powerful. Vulnerable, but so treasured and safe. She pondered that paradox as he pinched her left nipple in an almost clinical way, teasing it until it drew into a hard peak. Then he produced the first clamp and opened it. She held her breath, bracing, and cringed when he fastened it to her nipple. Holy crap. It really hurt!

  He watched her face as she huffed in and out. She let him see the pain there. If he liked when she was scared, he probably liked when he hurt her too. “Ouch,” she whispered.

  “Too much?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s…it’s okay.”

  He touched her cheek and then started teasing the other nipple. The left one throbbed, but she was adjusting to the pain. Then it bloomed anew as he closed the clamp over the right one. The chain swung between her breasts and oh, God, she hurt, but she never wanted it to end.

  “Come on. Get up. Five minutes in the corner.”

  As she walked with his hand at her back, she felt the soreness in her ass from the strapping. She felt punished, like a naughty, sexy girl. He made her stand with her breasts touching the wall, her hands straight at her sides. Even that, the demand that she hold her arms in a certain position, drove her absolutely wild. He told her to think about what happened to naughty girls as she stood there, and she did think about that, which is why she began to shift from foot to foot with arousal. Her pussy was hot and wet and aching for his cock. With his deep, growly voice, he warned her to be still or she’d be punished again. She wondered what he’d do to her if she started grinding against the wall the way she wanted to.

  Behave. Behave. She was learning. She was learning that naughty girls got punished and that it felt pretty damn good. She wondered if Mason got as much out of this as she did. He didn’t leave the room or putter around with his phone, even though she heard a few chimes for incoming messages. He just sat on the bed and stared at her. At her beet red ass, probably. She turned around to check out her color.

  “Eyes front,” he said.

  Eyes
front. Yes, Sir. The five minutes seemed to last an eternity. This had to end with sex, didn’t it? Surely they couldn’t do this powerful, erotic thing together and just go to bed, or go out for a swim? He was going to fuck her. He had to. Please. Please.

  She heard the springs creak as Mason rose off the bed. She felt more than heard him coming closer. It was like her body recognized his heat by now, his essence. The closer he got, the more she shook. Touch me, please touch me.

  He squeezed her shoulders, brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. He put an arm around her to hold her still. With the other hand he reached for the first clamp.

  “It might hurt a little when I take these off. Breathe through it. It will pass.”

  He took off the clamp and there was a beat and then flooding pain as sensation returned with a vengeance. “Damn,” she whispered under her breath. He took off the other one before she could start dreading it, although it hurt just as much. She forgot all about the pain though, because next his hand smoothed down her front to her mons, one finger pressing through hot wetness to rub over her clit. She wanted to sob, it felt so good after all the sensual torment.

  “Oh, God... Please!”

  “Please what?” he asked. “More corner time?”

  “No...” She gasped as his arm came around her waist, lifting her. He slid her up his body, her back to his front, and sank inside her. His other hand spread against the front of her pelvis to steady her. He braced her against him, caressing and teasing her clit. It felt so good she threw her head back with a groan and knocked it against his shoulder. He grunted but he didn’t stop.

  He fucked her slowly, in a controlled way, which she appreciated since her pussy felt slightly sore. This was round three in the space of a few hours, but she was so wet that it wasn’t too bad. Her ass was what really hurt—the aftermath of Mason’s strapping. Thinking of that got her even wetter...oh, God, and when he moved like that...

  The angle was different when he took her from behind. He went deeper, so she felt even more filled up. Her nipples ached as they rubbed against the wall. She felt trapped and overpowered. She didn’t know why she liked it so much, she just did. All the sensation—in combination with his expert manipulation of her clit—had her about to climb the walls. Literally.

  “Oh…oh! Mason…”

  “Yes, baby?”

  She was about to catch fire. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

  “I won’t. Not until you come for me, naughty girl.”

  God, yes, she was naughty. Guilty as charged. She tossed her head back again, connected with his shoulder again. With a groan, he took her down to the floor, bent her over on her knees and covered her with his body. She collapsed, squirming under him. All her pent up lust from the cuffs, the strap, the clamps all coalesced into an orgasm that came awfully close to making her cry. She clenched around Mason’s cock as he drove into her. This was wildness, complete and utter abandon, and it felt like heaven. When he finished he fell on top of her with a groan.

  “Holy fuck, baby. You’re trying to kill me.”

  She sighed and ran her fingers over one of his hands. He was crushing her, but it felt kind of good. “I’m sorry I’m so naughty.”

  He laughed and rolled off her, then slapped her ass. Ow. Ooh... “Liar. You’re not sorry.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He curled around her on the floor. She leaned back against him, resting her head on one very strong bicep or tricep or whatever it was. She was exhausted. She was pretty sure she was done for the night. She started to drowse and perhaps he did too, because when his phone buzzed, they both startled awake. He turned her in his arms, gave her a soft, infinitely tender kiss. “So what did you think of all that?”

  She grinned. “I liked it.”

  “Was I too hard with the strap?”

  “You were hard enough that it felt real. I wanted it to feel real, you know?”

  “Yes, I do know.”

  “So I liked that, even though it hurt more than I thought it would.”

  He caressed her hip, her thigh, then tipped her forward to check out her backside. “You’ll have a few marks to remember your first time.”

  She sighed, gazing at him in all his sexy perfection. “I don’t mind. But I don’t need anything to make me remember. I’ll never forget.”

  He traced her ass cheeks a while longer, to the point where he almost put her to sleep again. “Thank you for being so brave,” he said after a long silence. “For trying this with me. I won’t ever forget either. What a night.” He shook himself to life again and sat up. “I think you’re tired. I know I’m tired. Come on. Shower and bed.”

  Miri didn’t argue. The shower was a grope fest, but they were both too wrung out to do anything beyond that. Mason came to bed with a big bowl of strawberries and more champagne, feeding the fruit to her even though she said she was too tired to eat. She’d remember this too, his playfulness, his smile, and tart strawberries and champagne. All of it swam in her mind along with the memory of blue water and sunset, and Mason Cooke sliding into her and filling her up for the first time.

  *** *** ***

  Mason watched her, spellbound, long after she fell asleep. It was warm and comfortable in the house, with a light breeze, since the windows opened to the sea. There was no need for clothes, no need for blankets. All of them were strewn on the floor so he could look at her entire gorgeous body, from her light blonde hair down to her pretty little toes.

  He should be tired. He should be goddamn exhausted but he couldn’t settle down. He kept remembering her tied to the bed on her tummy, her arms and legs straining, gorgeous round ass cheeks reddening as he spanked her. He’d tested her limits and she’d liked it. The noises she made, her reactions... He’d been doing this long enough to tell she’d loved everything he did to her.

  So what now?

  They were going to be real. This was going to escalate, he could tell that already. She was kinky and sexy enough to satisfy him after all. What had he ever done to be so lucky?

  Mason frowned as his phone buzzed again. He shouldn’t have even brought it. For a moment he considered throwing it out the door into the whispering waves of the ocean, but that would just make more work for his assistant, buying and setting up another phone. Against his better judgment, he eased off the bed and picked it up. A call from his mom. God bless her. A call from Gareth, which he could return later. Four calls and five texts from Shane Greenberg.

  Fuck.

  CALL ME.

  CALL ME NOW.

  MASON COOKE, GODDAMN YOU. TURN ON YOUR GODDAMN PHONE.

  YOU’RE NOT ALONE ON THAT ISLAND. THERE ARE PHOTOS.

  The one after that had no text, just an attachment. Mason opened it and his whole world went red. He stared at it, not willing to believe. It was a photo of him and Miri on the beach, a crystal clear capture. They were stark naked, walking toward the house hand in hand. He threw the phone down and stalked outside, stormed around the side of the house to the place the trees and bushes started. “Come out, you goddamn motherfucker,” he yelled. “Come out and face me! I know you’re there. I’m going to find out who the fuck you are and nail your fucking ass to the wall.”

  He stormed around to the other side. How dare someone invade their privacy like this? The photos were already sold. If Shane had them, a news organization had sent them over. “Come out,” he yelled again, glaring into the dark on the other side of the house. He was so furious he wanted to raze the scrubby tropical forest with his two hands, shake out any photog still hiding there. He would rip off his head and jam it into a coconut and throw it out into the ocean.

  “Come the fuck out, you cowardly motherfucking asshole!” He raged at the faceless threat, suffocating with helplessness. “How would you feel if someone was doing this to you? Why can’t you show some fucking consideration and let us enjoy one fucking private moment without ruining it?” He kicked the sand in emphasis, sending it flying. His voice echoed in the stilln
ess of the night, and then there was Miri’s voice from the porch, soft and scared.

  “Mason?”

  “Go back inside, baby. Put on some clothes.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re not alone here, that’s what’s wrong. Someone’s taking pictures of us.”

  There was a pause. She backed a little closer to the door. “Please come inside with me. I’m scared.”

  Fuck, now Miri was scared. Fucking assholes. It wasn’t one person. It took a team to pull off an invasion of privacy like this. He’d tried so hard to be careful, to be secretive, all for nothing. Someone was going to pay. He would sort through the red tape and false names and find out who’d taken the photo, who’d made it possible and who’d bought it. He’d sue the publishers, the magazines, the people who manufactured the fucking camera. It was too much.

  “Mason? Please.”

  Miri needed him. She was scared. He had to pull it together. He went to the door and ushered her back inside. All the windows were wide open, so it was silly to lock the door, but he did. He wondered if the photographer had crept to the house and taken more photos from the window, photos of them inside. They wouldn’t sell. Selling photos of people outdoors was one thing, selling photos of someone having sex in a private home was trickier. But the photos could be there. On someone’s memory stick, on someone’s hard drive. The person could be masturbating to them right now. Mason collapsed in a chair and buried his head in his hands. Miri, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for this.

  He felt a light touch on his back. “What happened? Who’s out there?” she whispered.

  He turned and caught her in his arms, settling her in his lap. She trembled against him. He rocked her, smoothing back her hair. “It’s just pictures, honey. I’m sorry I lost my temper. I really lost it, but I’m okay now. I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “Pictures of what?” she asked.

  “Pictures of us. Outside,” he added, to reassure her a little. Although he didn’t believe for a second that was all there was. Maybe there would be blackmail attempts. Maybe the photos would be leaked, passed around virally, visible to anyone with an Internet connection.