She didn’t hear the violet wand at first. In fact, she didn’t notice it at all until Master’s shadow fell over her again and she looked up, catching the faint hum of the unit that she now noticed he wore strapped in a holster around his waist. Emily blinked rapidly. She’d taken a mental inventory of the apparently endless list of accessories and additions Master had bought with “her” ridiculously expensive present, but she now realized she’d barely remembered what half of them were. Everything was a blur, a giddy spin of trepidation and this insatiable, unexpected desire.
Emily glanced nervously at the black unit on Master’s hip. She’d been expecting the purple glow of the glass electrodes, the hand-blown rods in those different shapes—curves and mushroom-headed swells, orbs and rakes—and the sparks that would leap from the wand to her skin. She wasn’t sure what to make of this and she squirmed uncertainly, staring up at him and his slow, gentle smile.
Greg reached down to her, his strong fingers splayed out, still smiling and still gazing steadily at her. She watched him, her breasts rising and falling with each measured breath—two swollen pearls jutting from her chest, tightly bound by the pure white rope—and her toes clenched into knots as she struggled to stay as calm as she could.
He touched her thigh lightly, just tapping his fingertips against her skin, and Emily caught her breath. She could almost have believed she’d imagined it—just the tiniest tingle beneath his touch, like a little kiss of warmth from skin to skin. She gasped, expecting a stronger shock…expecting a stronger touch perhaps, and she spread her legs as far as her bonds allowed, desperate for more. Greg touched her again, tapping the soft skin of her inner thigh, each tiny contact sending an infinitesimal jolt of electricity between them.
Emily sucked a long breath over her teeth, her eyes fluttering closed as Master’s fingers played along the length of her thigh, inching slowly closer to her wet pussy. She moaned softly, anticipating the patter of his strong, warm fingers against her mound, her hips tipping toward him in eagerness.
“Please,” she murmured. “Please, Master…”
She heard the buzz of the wand increase slightly, and then Greg’s thumb brushed the edge of her labia, sending a sharp burst of warmth through the slick, tingling flesh. Emily yelped, wriggling long after that single tiny shock was over, as if the undulations of her hips could pull the sensation back into her, give her the intensity she feared…and yet craved.
Another plea escaped her but Master had moved away and she peered up blearily to find him repositioning himself, leaning over the end of the bed. He rested his palms on her thighs, pushing them farther apart as he bent low over her, and Emily whimpered as she realized what was coming next.
His breath tickled against her knees, his fingertips tapping her skin again, making those incredible little kisses of warmth dance against her flesh—stronger now, each one a soft spark that made shivers bloom under every touch—and she groaned afresh, yielding her whole body up to him even as she strained against the ropes.
Master’s mouth met the wet heat of her lips, his tongue parting her slick folds and moving with bold, wide strokes along the length of her slit. Emily cried out through gritted teeth, grinding up against his touch as pleasure flooded through her. There were no sparks, no buzzing bursts of warmth, but his tongue and the heat of his mouth, his gentle, ceaseless suction, worked at her until she saw stars—need and bliss coalescing in a blinding wave of arousal.
She shivered against his mouth as his tongue flicked at her clit, his lips forming a tight seal on her pussy. Her pleasure rose quickly, threatening a rapid and uncompromising climax after all his merciless teasing. She ached for it, needed it, but he pulled back again and she knew that without his permission she had to hold it back. Emily pressed her shoulders into the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled to hold on to her self-control, her clit pulsing in desperation as his mouth left her.
She gasped, a ragged plea slipping from her lips without her even really being aware of the words—just a shallow chant, begging him over and over—and she heard the soft expulsion of his breath as he moved. Greg’s fingers were on her again then, drumming gently against her labia and making sparks dance there. Harder now, the intensity of sensation like the hum of a tiny vibrator, focused with deathly precision on her most tender places, he tapped at her flesh, opening her up and skimming her wetness with those fiery little touches.
“Are you still holding the handle, little one?” he asked, his voice warm and low as his fingers moved over her slit, touching everywhere but her needy, throbbing clit.
“Y-yes, Master,” Emily managed, her eyes tightly shut again as her thighs began to tremble. She was still clutching the body contact probe, sure her knuckles must be as white as the ropes encircling her wrists. “Oh…Master, please…please…”
“You want more?” He sounded amused, chuckling when she pushed up against him, trying desperately to crush her pussy against his hand. “If we stay in full contact, the current grounds out. I explained that to you before, didn’t I?”
She knew he had, but she couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember anything, couldn’t think, couldn’t articulate a single thought. Everything was just full of this searing desire and need, the familiar buildup of frustration and desire both tempered and intensified by these new sensations.
“Yes, Master,” Emily moaned mournfully. “But…but…please? Please…”
She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for anymore. Greg knew though. Master knew everything, was everything, and the candlelit room seemed to fade out around her, the shadows swallowing up the whole world until there was only him and the sparks he made dance on her pussy.
She heard the hum of the wand intensify, vaguely aware that he’d turned up the power on the unit, but she had no time to think about it because then he leaned over her again. He kissed the top of her mound and a jolt of sharp pleasure-pain jumped from his lips to her shaven skin, dragging a yelp from Emily as her hips bucked upward in response.
As soon as his mouth was pressed firmly to her the tingling stopped. She panted, her whole body a quivering mess of need. This wasn’t like the experience she’d had before. There was no pain, no humiliation here…no invasion or violation. Master’s kiss sowed fire into her skin, warming every inch of her. Gradually the tingling grew more intense, every touch that drummed against the same spot building the pleasure into mind-melting bliss. She strained harder against her ropes, her bound breasts throbbing and her pussy pulsing desperately as she pushed toward him, chanting pleas and praise—so good, please, more, touch, yes, Master, please—as the coherency fell from her world.
He gave her his tongue then. Just the very tip of his tongue, delicately flicking the underside of her clit…and sending a fat, sharp spark leaping across the gap between them to land directly on her center.
Emily squealed, her body bucking up from the bed in a contorted arch and the contact probe slipping from her fingers. She heard it bounce on the floor but barely connected the sound to anything real. Nothing seemed real, nothing seemed physical or plausible, not in the midst of this maddening, wild intensity.
Chapter Five
Greg moved away from her and she wanted to howl at that. He couldn’t! She needed him, needed what he could do to her—and she felt his hand on her stomach. No sparks. No tingle. She trembled, still so close to the precipice, and stared up into the candlelit shadows through blurred eyes. She hadn’t even realized that there were tears hovering on her vision but her Master swam into focus through them, looking down steadily at her.
“P-please,” she stammered. “Please, Master, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop it. Please may I have it back? Please?”
Greg chuckled softly, his hands moving in tender strokes over her flesh, petting her stomach and caressing her tautly bound breasts.
“I thought you didn’t like electricity, little one.”
Emily growled in frustration, staring up imploringly at him. “Please! Mast
er, please…”
“Just a moment, little one,” he assured her with a smirk, moving away from the bed.
Emily thumped her head back against the pillow. Her wrists were growing sore from tugging so hard and so often at the ropes, but she owned the discomfort, feeling it transmute in her flesh, becoming a kind of warmth and power that crackled beneath her skin…almost like the electricity had done.
She wanted that fiery tingle back more desperately than she’d ever imagined possible, she realized. She hadn’t thought it could ever be like this. That first experience—Connor and his cruelty and his mocking laughter as she ran from him—was so far away, fading to a distant blur on the horizon of her memory. All that existed now was her beautiful Master and the sparks that flew between them, and Emily smiled breathlessly at that thought. She’d always felt that galvanic current in Greg’s touch—always imagined that there was something magical about him that struck right at her core—but this was the first time that electricity had been literal. She wanted to laugh but her breaths came out ragged and a little damp and, when he turned back to her, he gave her a very thorough, critical look, as if he wasn’t sure she hadn’t completely lost her mind.
“Are you still with me, little one?” he asked, lofting a quizzical brow.
Emily nodded fervently, watching his clever hands working with the wand. He’d been attaching one of the glass electrodes to the handheld unit—the large, perfectly round orb. She wet her lips nervously, trying to marshal the words on her tongue and push them out in the right order. They didn’t want to cooperate though. Thinking was hard and talking worse.
“Mm-hm,” she murmured, squirming as she followed his movements apprehensively.
Master flicked on the unit and the wand began to hum softly, the orb glowing a brilliant purple. Emily caught her breath. She hadn’t imagined it would be so beautiful, but it was…bright and pure and beautiful. Her pulse quickened as he drew closer and a little whimper left her as he moved the wand toward her. She wanted it—wanted it with every fiber of her being, her whole body a panting mess of need—but the electrical buzz filled her ears and the last rime of trepidation clung to her, nervousness staining her excitement.
Greg swiped the wand slowly over her ribs, passing it so close to her body that the sparks whispered from the cool glass to her warm skin with the softness of a lover’s sigh. It fizzed against her flesh, the shocks light and tingly. But as long as Master kept the wand moving, the intensity never grew too much to take. Emily let out a long breath, her body sagging as she relaxed into the sensations. She’d never pictured it feeling like this, never thought it could be so gentle, so…soothing almost. If it hadn’t been for the state Master had worked her up into already, she half suspected this beautiful feeling would be enough to lull her to sleep.
She stretched out under the wand, peering from beneath her lashes at the wide, wonderful orb moving over her body, the flawless glass filled with those crazy dancing streaks of purple lightning. It was like a storm in a vase, she thought, the whole sky caught in a snow globe, as if Master were holding the world in his hand and she was at the center of his universe.
She smiled at that, so much joy and bliss pooling in her that it spilled out into a bubbling, irrepressible peal of laughter. She looked up at Greg, delighting in the focus in those gray-blue eyes and the intensity with which he stared down at her. He smiled and he looked so pleased, so proud of her. His pride filled her, the current of it moving between them in a constant tide, his smile only widening as he moved the violet wand farther away from her flesh before landing a sharp zap on her nipple.
Emily flinched, letting out a yelp and tugging hard on her restraints. This was more like what she’d imagined—the roughness of something that felt like electricity, that bit into her sensitive spots and seared her nerves, sending wicked stings of sensation right through her flesh. It didn’t hurt as badly as that first sour experience, and she was surprised to find that it didn’t make the horrible memories swell up inside her.
There was just the feeling swirling through her and around her and the solid, comfortable presence of her beloved Master at her side, the glow of the wand reflecting on his wide, strong wrist as he held the unit above her breasts. He looked down at her, a smile touching the curve of his lips, and he let the glimmering glass orb rest on the white rope that bound her chest.
Emily let out a breath, feeling no sparks while the rope absorbed the shocks. Greg had told her about ropes that could conduct electricity, and she had no doubt that he had a whole list of ingenious things he wanted to try.
Before tonight, that thought would have frightened her, although she knew she would have been keen to prove to Master that she could fulfill his wishes. She would have been prepared to try it, if it was something he really wanted…but now she wanted it too. She wanted the shocks again and the intensity of those stronger zaps. The great ball of need and frustration within her throbbed like a yawning void, swallowing her up from the inside out. She needed this, and it was new, unsettling, scary, to be so desperate for something that she’d been afraid of for so long.
Emily trembled as she looked down at the wand, the crackling purple tendrils of light within the orb dancing in hypnotically sinuous forms. Her lips twitched and she wanted to beg, pushed so far beyond desperation now that she was beginning to feel like a feather, tossed on the impossible swell of this intensity. She glanced up at her Master, imploring him with her widened eyes, and the shadows in the candlelit room seemed to soften his edges, making him a part of the darkness that enveloped her.
“Hold still for me, little one,” he said softly as he moved the wand down lower, skimming her belly and the curves of her waist with the orb.
Emily writhed beneath the series of sparks and tingles that kissed her skin. The closer the glass lay to her skin, the more subtle the sensation—almost a gentle hum on her body—but with each pull away, the jolts bit at her like the nips of tiny jaws, chasing ice-cold shivers through her flesh. The more Master concentrated the wand on one area, the higher the sensation built and, as he hovered the orb just below her navel, Emily groaned and squirmed, whimpering as the constant nibbling jab of little static-laced kisses gnawed at her skin. She wasn’t sure whether he’d turned the dial up any higher or whether she was just nearing the limit of what she could take without exploding. Every nerve ending she possessed felt frayed, her mind a melted ball of pleasure, synapses cemented together and thoughts flooded with shapes and colors.
She let out a short scream as Master moved the violet wand over her pussy. The first spark on her lips made her hips buck wildly, her whole body twitching in response to the pressure that threatened inside her.
“Open your legs, little one,” Greg commanded and she did, because the mere thought of not obeying him had flown so far from her head that it seemed an impossibility. He spoke and her body obeyed.
He was beside her and the cool glass of the wand sent sparks right onto her slick, aching slit. She squealed, her clit a burning seed of pleasure, throbbing as if under the most intense vibration imaginable, and her pussy clenched desperately, the need for release aching through her.
He toyed with her, moving the wand from her slit to her thighs and back, pushing her to the brink over and over until she was sheened with sweat, shivering and straining violently against her bonds. Emily found her voice again as the sparks bit into her wet, hungry flesh. She begged and pleaded, her voice shallow and shaky, her eyes half closed and her lips trembling around each word.
“Please, Master…please may I come? Please? Please…please, Master…”
Greg grinned down at her, the candlelight glimmering in his eyes as he stepped away. Emily let her head roll to the side, burying her face against her arm. Her shoulders were sore, her wrists chafed and tired and her clit was still on fire, long after he’d taken the wand away. Little bursts of intensity pricked her muscles, her body wound so tight that she could barely remember a time she hadn’t been this close to orga
sm. As if she’d existed in this agonizing limbo forever, nothing to her existence but to serve Master’s whim with her pleasure, the object of his teasing and torment.
She heard him doing something with the wand but she wasn’t sure what, and she could barely focus enough to peer across the room. She felt him press cool metal into her palm, raising her head as she realized it was the body contact probe again.
“Hold it tight, little one,” he reminded her as her fingers closed weakly but eagerly around the handle. “Hold on or the electricity will stop. And you must remain still. Completely still. Do you understand?”
Emily nodded feebly, listening for the hum of the wand and whimpering softly as the warmth of sparks touched her thighs. He was parting her legs and she felt the discomfort in her ankles, so long shackled now, but she didn’t care, because her Master was going down on her again, his tapping fingers and lapping tongue sending dancing violet sparks shimmering up and down her slit.
She pushed herself down into the mattress hard, willing herself to stay still and struggling to control her body when all she wanted to do was flail and writhe, screaming his name as she yielded up everything she was, everything she had and came for him in a flood of agonizing bliss.
But Master had not given her permission. Instead he teased her, his tongue tapping at her still-tingling clit and skittering across her soft folds, trailing fire and intensity with every stroke. The precision of the sparks drilled into her, hot and cold and incredible, as if his tongue were a laser fixed right on her center. Her breaths came high and tight, and Emily turned her head again, sinking her teeth into her own arm as her hips began to shake. She moaned one last, mangled “please”, and shivered at the electrified kiss Master planted on her inner thigh.
“You may come for me, little one,” he said, tapping his thumb hard against her wet, needy clit.
She let out a long cry, full of gratitude, which morphed into a squeal of ecstasy as he bent his head again, adding his mouth to the stimulation that finally pushed her over that long-awaited edge.
Ultra Violet Page 4