To the Edge

by Anna del Mar

  Still looking at me, he lifted his mouth from my breast and pinched my drenched nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sharpened it, squeezed it, twisted it. I held my breath as he tugged on it, lengthening and stretching my flexible flesh, until it felt like a rubber band between his fingers. I bit down on my lips and closed my eyes.

  “Open your eyes,” he ordered, holding the stretch as he positioned the clamps. “I want you to see this.”

  I forced myself to look, shuddering at the sight of the clamps gaping like the maws of a tiny alligator.

  “Here goes.”

  The rubberized end bit down on my flesh. I flinched with the sting.

  “Easy, now.” Noah tightened the tension, all the while watching me. “Don’t forget to breathe. Can you handle a little more pressure?”

  I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to the feel of his fingers as they tinkered with the clamp. I let out a small whimper when I didn’t think I could take any more pressure.

  “Enough for now?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  Noah smiled and kissed my clamped breast before he turned his attention to the other side, repeating the same slow, careful process, kneading my flesh in a deep, sensual massage, then unleashing his mouth on my lucky—or unlucky—nipple, until it was stiff and engorged, ready for the other clamp. A second sting had me gasping and then the ring of the little dangling bells announced my every breath.

  “Oh God.” I shuddered at the pressure.

  “Give it a sec.”

  He reached out, held my face between his hands and kissed me. I was still smarting from the clamps but I parted my lips for him obediently. His tongue filled my mouth and his scent filled my lungs. He deepened his kiss, raking my lower lip with his teeth, consuming my ragged breaths, making me forget about the little sparks igniting the tops of my breasts.

  One of his hands slid down the back of my neck, over my shoulders and down my back, conjuring goose bumps as it worked its magic over my body. The other hand nudged my thighs apart and greeted my sex like an old pal.

  I let out a satisfied sigh. His fondling felt divine. He broke off the kiss and, staring at me, tugged on one of the clamps ever so lightly.

  I inhaled sharply.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he murmured between kisses. “Most women find the pressure incredibly arousing. You know what to say if you want them off.”

  The sensations were unbelievable, new and maddening. It felt as if my need had been trapped in the hard, rosy stems that my nipples had become. I was hypersensitive, throbbing with an ache that reminded me of the advantages and perils of my submissive condition, held aware by the steady pressure of those clamps controlling my most reactive parts.

  But I liked that ache. It was like sexual angst turned into a tangible condition. I liked what it did to my body. I wanted more. I was even a little miffed when the sting began to pass and my flesh began to get used to being clamped.

  “Ring your bells,” Noah ordered as if reading my body’s needs. “Come on, make them count.”

  With my hands clasped behind my back, I wiggled my shoulders, a movement that the little bells rewarded with a few chimes.

  “Don’t be shy,” Noah murmured. “Shake your tits. Give those bells a good workout.”

  I shook my shoulders, this time with more conviction, gaining confidence from the smile that bloomed on Noah’s face and from the way his gaze tracked my breasts as they waved from side to side. With a sustained effort and a little work, I got the bells airborne and into a jiggling rhythm, reviving the flames that flickered beneath the clamps.

  “Oh, yeah, princess.” Noah rubbed his hand over his groin, massaging his erection. “You look fucking hot, baby. Keep doing that.”

  Not for nothing, but the clamps did look really good on me and the tiny bursts of pain made me feel as if the whole world revolved around the very tips of my breasts. And the ringing. It gave sound to my need, the annoying, irritating, constant, unforgiving and thrilling demand for stimulation that my body craved. Look at me, chimed the bells. Torture me more, please.

  As if he was listening to my body’s pleas, Noah lifted a hand, motioning for me to stop. “Don’t move,” he said when the last of the jingles died.

  He caught the little bells between his brawny fingers and pulled on the chains. It was as if he held the reins to my body. The little golden chains stretched between his hands and my breasts. I arched my back and let out little gasps that sounded like a collection of ahs.

  “It’s called pleasure-pain,” Noah said. “Do you understand why?”

  “Yes, Noah.” I understood really well as my body struggled to accommodate the battle between two sensations that were one and the same.

  “Feel it, suffer it, enjoy it.” Noah transferred both bells to one hand and brushed his fingers along the folds of my drenched pussy. “You like it. You are beyond turned on. You fucking love what I’m doing to you.”

  I threw my head back and groaned.

  “Say it,” he ordered. “Tell me how much you like your new clamps.”

  “I love them, Noah,” I rasped, swooning on my knees but afraid of moving, suspended in his stern grip. “I fucking love my new clamps.”

  “It was a good buy, then.” The bells dropped to my chest. The pull was suddenly gone. “You bought nipple clamps. I bought a clit clamp.”

  One moment he was fondling me, milking my pussy’s juices like only Noah could, and the next minute he held my clit between his fingers as he deftly fastened on the clamp he produced from his pocket. I had no time to react. The installation took him thirty seconds, a tug, a harsh pinch and a ring of pressure. When he was done, a third bell dangled between my legs, and my need had been corralled and compressed into three knots of deliciously throbbing flesh.

  I stared from the clit clamp to Noah, reeling from the sensations. My clit looked trapped, pronounced, exposed. “Oh my God.”

  “Like it?”

  “I... I don’t know.”

  “How do the clamps feel, Clara?”

  “Tight...insistent...stern. As if your fingers were gripping me in all three places.”

  The lust in his eyes buttered my body with yet another layer of desire. “I want you on the bench, right now.”

  “Are you going to discipline me?”

  “Yes.”

  My pussy flooded and my clit and nipples burned, tightening in the clamps’ grips. I was hesitant about what came next, yes, but I was also intensely curious.

  “Is it something you need to do?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t need to do this.” His tone never wavered. “But you? You do.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Clara

  We faced each other kneeling on the carpet. Me naked, aroused and clinking with my new accessories. Noah dressed and in control. He placed the crop between my lips. My teeth clamped down on the flexible rod. The bland taste of new leather flavored my mouth.

  Noah rose to his feet and motioned to the bench. The intensity in his eyes beamed down on me. I couldn’t stand it. My gaze shifted to the bench. I was afraid. I was excited. It was either face Noah—and myself—or face the contraption. The bench seemed like the safer choice.

  I forced myself to crawl forward. The new carpet chafed against my knees and dug in the heels of my hands. The leash trailed beneath my body, glossy links clinking faintly against each other. I moved carefully, slowly, keenly aware of the little bells dangling from my breasts and clit. They tugged at my flesh, chiming as I went.

  The huge skylights on the ceiling rained dual shafts of sunlight on the bench. As I arrived at the middle of the room, I hesitated. I couldn’t make heads or tail of the contraption before me. It looked...intimidating. I clamped down on the crop in my mouth. What had I gotten myself into?


  My throat tightened. Maybe Noah was right and I wasn’t able to do this. I took a deep breath, but the air refused to get to the bottom of my lungs.

  “At ease.” Noah followed on my heel. He picked me up and settled me on the frame, so that my knees braced apart on opposite sides and my lower belly rested across a padded bar.

  “Your knees go on these leather pads.” He adjusted my legs on the cushions. “Your hands go here.” He clipped my cuffs to the rings attached to either side of the frame. “Now, breathe, princess. Good. For your safety, I’m going to secure you to the frame. Are you ready?”

  I was ready to bolt, that’s what I was. My instinct was to run out of the attic screaming like a banshee. But I’d made an agreement with Noah and I was going to honor it. And one day, I was going to write that article showing a full understanding of the emotions paralyzing me now. The bells dangling from my nipples pealed when I nodded.

  He strapped me down at the waist, knees and ankles, until I was secured in place and I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. My breasts stretched down between my arms. The position was obscene.

  I hadn’t expected decency, that’s for sure, but in truth, before Noah returned to my life, I never thought that my research for RelevantSex.com would go this far. If it had, I would’ve expected nothing more than a quick, furtive encounter with an anonymous stranger to tour a dungeon, a dark, hidden place with low lights and poor visibility.

  Instead I’d gotten this. Noah—the only man I’d ever loved—and a sun-filled attic where beams of bright, natural sunlight illuminated the deepest, most intimate crevices of my completely exposed body.

  And yet, despite all of that, being here excited me beyond belief. It was astounding, but strapped on the bench, helpless and obscene, I felt beautiful and admired. The fear of the unknown only added to the adrenaline coursing through me. It was...exhilarating. Noah hadn’t even touched me and yet I was already in a total state of lust.

  Noah’s hand landed on my back, releasing a swarm of bumps to prickle my skin. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his caresses. He traced the line of my spine, detoured to stroke my ass and ran his fingers along my sex, where he lingered, stoking my need. His fingers followed an excruciating path from my clit to my slit, an exploration of my no longer private spaces.

  The little bells announced the tremors shaking my body. None of my movements, no matter how small or subtle, would go unheralded today. Strapped on the bench, suffering the pleasure of Noah’s expert touch, my body went into overdrive. I was within seconds of orgasm when he broke it off. I craned my neck and watched him lick my juices from his fingertips.

  “You’re delicious,” he said. “Have I told you that before?”

  In fact, he had, last weekend, when he’d proposed to bottle my juices, a notion that encouraged my body to manufacture the product by the gallon right now. I was beginning to feel self-conscious about the moisture percolating from my depths, when Noah’s hand came down on my ass, hot and heavy in a firm spank.

  I startled. The bells tolled. The crop almost fell out of my mouth. I bit down and held on to it by the skin of my teeth. What next?

  “You bought this sweet little crop for yourself.” He reached over, took the crop from my mouth and ran the flat leather tongue over my lips. “Tell me: why?”

  “It was a whim,” I tried to explain. “I didn’t really want it.”

  “You’re lying,” Noah said.

  The sting took me by surprise. The smack reverberated through my body. I flinched, more from shock than from pain. The strike of the crop didn’t really hurt, but the little patch of leather had an impact on my flesh. It resonated through my body, adding kindling to the fire building in my core.

  “I don’t understand.” I winced with the next strike. “What do you want from me?”

  “No lies, no excuses.” He landed another smack on my seat. “I want you to admit the mistakes you’ve made and the lies you told.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Smack. “You did. So tell me, Clara. Make it count.”

  My brain was in a tizzy, but I forced myself to focus, which was hard because my thoughts scattered like fleas every time the crop ignited my ass.

  “Start with this weekend.” Noah struck again. “What did you do wrong this weekend?”

  “I was late, but I already explained—”

  Smack.

  “I told you why I had to miss the ferry.”

  Smack.

  “And you disciplined me for it.”

  Smack. “But...?”

  I saw it all of a sudden. “I used my hands. I didn’t clip on my cuffs this morning when I woke. But you weren’t there. How was I supposed to function without my—”

  Smack.

  The stings were getting tiresome, building up a steady layer of heat over my ass. “I’m sorry I broke the rules.”

  “What else?” he said.

  I hesitated. “What do you mean what else?”

  Smack.

  “I admit it,” I muttered. “I’m not the best sub ever. I ask questions. I cheat a little and I’ve given you attitude occasionally.”

  Smack. “Occasionally?”

  “Okay, often. I’m sorry.”

  Smack. “Try again.”

  “Sorry and I promise a greater effort?”

  “Good.” Noah’s voice held a note of approval. Better yet, his hands moved over my ass, dispelling some of the crop’s heat before his fingers returned to fondle my sex.

  His touch felt superb. My body shivered with pleasure. It was as if the kiss of the crop had ratcheted up my ability to feel pleasure, cranking up the physical stakes. I closed my eyes, lowered my head and gave myself to his touch.

  I could move only a little against his hand, but I craved more, more friction, pressure and especially penetration, from his fingers or better yet, from his cock. He avoided touching my clit directly, but he did tap on the little bell, making it swing in small circles as it tugged on my clit. It felt gigantic to my body, the focal point of my urgent, throbbing need.

  “Please?” I whimpered, voice quivering. “May I come?”

  “Not yet,” Noah said. “I want you to take small, quick breaths and learn to pace yourself. Orgasm on demand is a rare skill, but I want you to master it. Can you do that?”

  Probably not. The sensations racking my body were almost too intense to bear. As if all of that wasn’t enough, Noah leaned over me and, lowering his face to my ass, ran his tongue along my sex, testing me, teasing my clit, tampering with the little bell until I had to beg for mercy.

  “Slow down,” he cautioned.

  I huffed like the little train that could, desperate to hold back my body’s pleasure engines. I shut my eyes, tilted my head back and dug my teeth into my lower lip. I was about to lose the battle when he suddenly stopped. He left me there, puffing like a smoldering dragon.

  I craned my neck, looking for him. “Noah?”

  He stood behind me, knuckling his chin, contemplating my sex as if it were the Mona Lisa. “That’s the most fucking gorgeous thing I’ve seen in all my life. I can’t wait to take possession of your cunt.” He thumbed my slit, then glided over to my puckered anus. “And one day, I’m going to fuck you here too.”

  I held on to the orgasm that wanted to burst out of me by an act of pure will. Orgasm on demand might be hard, but holding back when Noah was around could prove impossible.

  “Let’s talk about last week,” Noah said in a brisk, businesslike tone.

  My mind just couldn’t make the leap. “Excuse me?”

  The crop struck with a lick of fire. “Tell me about Monday.”

  “Monday?”

  Another strike, this one more severe and more effective at making me remember.

  “I didn’t pay attention to you
r texts,” I said. “I didn’t open your package right away.”

  “Go on.” The crop nipped me again. “What about Tuesday?”

  “I was naughty.” I shut my eyes and tensed in anticipation. “I asked for an amendment.”

  Smack. “You were way out of line.”

  “Sorry.” My fingers tightened on the frame.

  “No, you’re not.” He struck. “You’re a control freak with a hidden agenda, but I’m on to you.” He struck again. “What else?”

  I hesitated, smarting from the heat. “When you gave me my fancy vibrator? I was slow to follow your directions.”

  “That’s right.” Smack. “Tell me the other ways in which you hesitated.”

  “In the tub, at the store. In the shower,” I rasped. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He planted a kiss on my ass. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

  “No.”

  The crop whistled in the air. The leather tongue surprised me by landing on the tender skin of my thighs. It struck several times in a row, little stings I was powerless to stop, nips that felt raw and intense on the sensitive skin. There was no violence to Noah’s strikes, no sign of anger or emotion, only strict and even discipline. There was no real pain either, and yet with each strike, my need and desperation grew.

  “You allowed Senator Luz to upset you,” he said. “Several times.”

  “True.” The admission didn’t stop the crop.

  “You’re holding back,” he said.

  “You know.” I realized all of a sudden. “You know about the vibrator. How?”

  “The app alerted me the moment you added yourself as a user, turned on the vibrator and broke your promise.” He rapped me again. “You had an orgasm without my permission.”

  “I swear,” I rasped. “It won’t happen again.”