There was no one else it could be for, but he understood she needed an answer anyway. “For you, my little treasure.”
She tilted her head up, baring her neck to him. He wrapped the collar around it and buckled it in the back, leaving enough of a gap that he could slip two fingers between the leather and her throat.
Mine.
EMMA’S HEAD SWAM. It was all happening so fast. One day, she thought she’d lost him. The next morning, he was her dom, and not just for the moment. And now, collared. Naked. His.
He stood up, never breaking eye contact. She stared up at him. He hooked his finger in the center ring. She gasped. He grinned. He tugged. She stood, with a shortness of breath that had nothing to do with the strap of leather around her throat—not with it physically, anyway. It wasn’t too tight. A warmth had come over her body, centering in her breasts and her pussy.
He grabbed his bag of toys and stepped backward toward the door, making her follow him. She could easily pull back against his single finger, she supposed. But she felt driven to move when he tugged, even if he took her right outside. The collar made the difference. It told everyone that she wasn’t naked of her own will. It was his decision, not hers, and that gave her courage. The collar meant not having to explain it to everyone, because people would know. She hated explaining things to people, especially awkward, intimate things.
“You need a little more, I think.”
“More on?” She was surprised at her disappointment.
“In a way.” He freed his finger from her collar and bent down. He came back with a length of black rope. “Arms up, please.”
She lifted her hands, conscious of the way the motion pulled on her breasts. He wrapped a double width of rope around her chest, first above her breasts, then below, then over her shoulders to cinch the two ropes together. The top rope pressed on her chest; the bottom lifted the underside of her breasts. He tied it off in the back and pulled her around forcefully.
My, that gave him a rather nice handle. He could have told her to turn, but this was better. She was surprised at how much she liked being manhandled.
“I liked that.”
He kissed the back of her neck, just above the collar. “I know,” he whispered. He sounded smug. And confident. Confident was good. Arrogance—the kind that led him to tip her suitcase over—wasn’t, right? Now she wasn’t so sure. She liked it. And she wanted to nourish it.
He bent down to get something else from his bag, and she wanted to twist and look to see what it was. But she steeled herself to face forward. Something had changed with his unasked for declaration of their future. He had moved from play partner, top, to dom. Maybe Master. She hadn’t realized that was what she was looking for, but now that she had it, it let her relax in a way she hadn’t before.
The thought flashed through her mind of telling him he could tip her suitcase again, so that he could see the change. But that was silly. She needed to pack it soon. She’d have to let him know by bits and pieces that next time, she’d give him a little more rope. Metaphorically. And she certainly couldn’t imagine turning down being tied up with the scarf.
The feel of something against her back let her know he’d gotten more rope. He tied it to the harness he’d made in back and then wrapped it around her front. It was the red rope that he’d tied her with before, and he used it to loop across her belly. He wrapped and looped it through, wrapped and looped it, until she had a sort of corset made of rope. Rather than moving himself, he simply spun her when he needed to.
Then he got some more rope, black again. Using the center of the front of the corset as an anchor, he then tied a knot partway down.
“Hands behind your back, please.”
She put them as requested. She felt vulnerable. Oddly, it felt good. He tugged down on the rope, pressed the knot to her mound, and then adjusted its position downward. Then he pulled it under her crotch and out the other end and put the ends in her hand. “Hold this.”
She held. And now she understood the point of the knot, because it was right against her clit. He expects me to walk like that? Again she took comfort in the fact that the collar told everyone it wasn’t her idea. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror he’d fucked her against before. Besides, the rope looks hot.
“Turn, little treasure.”
She turned.
He tied the other ends of the rope, not to the center of the back this time, but off the side, so that after the ropes passed her clit, they spread against the inside of her thighs and across her cheeks.
“Why not just tie it up the middle, Sir?” She knew there had to be a reason.
“Because then I wouldn’t have as much access without taking it off.” He pulled on the top of the rope harness and turned her around to face him again. “Now I think you’re all dressed.”
My breasts aren’t covered, and my pussy is…accessible. This is dressed? But she had the collar. “Yes, Sir, I am.”
He grinned. She loved seeing that he was pleased with her. “Good girl.” He picked up his bag again, hoisted it over his shoulder, and put two fingers this time into the front ring of her collar. “Come.”
He opened the door and walked forward, tugging her. She followed, feeling the knot rub against her clit as she walked. It made it hard to breathe calmly.
They passed James and Selena in the hallway. Both wore jeans and casual shirts. James was carrying two suitcases, so they were getting ready to leave. Selena smiled at Emma, but it felt odd being dressed in rope in front of two people dressed so normally.
“Sorry about the mix-up, Diego.” James clapped his hand on Diego’s shoulder. “And thanks for fingering the real culprit.”
“It wasn’t in any way your fault,” Diego said.
“You look marvelous,” Selena whispered to her. “I wish I had your guts.”
“I’m just following directions,” replied Emma. It was the perfect excuse.
Selena grinned at her, and then the two moved on. Emma and Diego continued on their way.
There weren’t very many people playing in the dungeon. Just a couple on the spanking bench, another on the X-frame. Maybe a dozen people, all told, were chatting over doughnuts and juice. They were dressed relatively normally. Compared to the bustle of the evening before, it seemed deserted.
“Last chance for coffee,” he said.
“Will there be pee breaks?” she asked.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Then I better skip the coffee.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I like a woman who thinks ahead.”
“I thought I was supposed to let you do all the thinking.” I’ve been offering quite a few suggestions, haven’t I? Too many?
He shook his head. “We’re a partnership. If you think of things, I want you to share them with me, so I can make the best possible decisions for both of us. But when it comes to things like whether to drink coffee or not, I have no desire to exercise control. Topping is for the bedroom. And clubs. And deserted street corners. And restaurants where I’ve ordered you not to wear panties. And—”
She was aware that he was watching her to see what effect his words would have and had trailed off deliberately. As if the rope wasn’t enough to keep her blushing, especially that damn knot. “I want it all,” she said, feeling brave.
“Well then.” He moved and tugged on the collar. She followed quickly to avoid being dragged. She was aware of eyes turning their way. A naked, bound woman attracted attention, even here.
She loved it. It felt strange to admit it to herself, but she did. And he knew it. He’d make sure she got it.
He led her to a large wooden frame. She’d seen four people playing on it together the night before, but it was empty now. Two posts supported one thick cross bar, and attachment points were screwed in all around. Not just screwed into the wood, she noticed now that she was up close, but screwed through it and attached with large nuts at the top. The entire top bar and the joints attaching it to the ver
tical posts were reinforced with steel as well. She wondered why it had to be so sturdy, but she supposed that four people could put a lot of stress on something. She’d seen a little woman, about five-three and probably ninety pounds, suspended from it at one point. There was a mat underneath it.
He got more rope out of his bag. The black and red looked sexy on her, she thought, but this rope was a light brown. Natural fibers, undyed.
“What more of me do you have to tie?” Her hands and ankles were free, so that was probably a silly question.
He smiled. “You’ll see. I intend to make you the center of attention, Emma.”
She shivered, but that didn’t stop her pussy from getting wet. She wondered if she was soaking that little knot. She shifted her feet, and it reminded her of its presence. It wasn’t painful, but it was right on the edge between irritating and arousing. Maybe that was the idea.
He tied one rope to her chest harness, another to the bottom of her corset. They just dangled there, and she had no idea what he had in mind.
“Feet together, please. Or rather, just a few inches apart.”
She obeyed.
He took the third and final rope and wrapped it around her ankles. Surely a few turns would do, but he wrapped it around eight times before cinching it in the middle. This rope was scratchier, and it dug into her skin more, but as usual he made sure he could fit two fingers between rope and skin.
She wondered why her legs were together if he wanted access. There was a lot of rope left over, as well. Why all the extra rope? Oh. “You’re not. I’m too heavy.”
“You’re beautifully curved.”
“You know what I mean. I’ll break that thing.”
“I have seen a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound man suspended on this. Dylan checks it regularly, and so does Bruce. It can support anyone who comes here, and there are people a lot heavier than you. Me, for instance.” He jumped up, grabbed the top of bar, and pulled himself up, doing a chin-up. “See?”
If it could hold him, it could hold her, she supposed. She still wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that she was scared of dropping. The top of the bar wasn’t that high, maybe eight feet, so there was a limit to how high up he could get her, and the mat looked soft. But she dreaded the embarrassment of breaking the equipment. “Who is Bruce? I’ve heard people talk about him.”
Diego nodded. “He’s right over there. Hey, Bruce!” He waved over at the gaggle of chatters, and a dark-haired man broke from it. More quietly, he murmured to Emma, “He’s a rope master. Seriously knows his knots.”
“Hey,” said Bruce. A woman in a thin white dress came with him. She had looked normally enough dressed at a distance, but now that she was closer the dress was transparent, and Emma could see that dark rope crisscrossed her body beneath.
“Bruce, Laera. This is Emma.”
She shook everyone’s hands, feeling odd to be the only one completely naked. Although Laera’s dress didn’t conceal much. Then again, Diego had promised her attention.
“I’m going to do a little suspension,” Diego said.
“I see that,” said Bruce.
“And Emma’s nervous.”
“I saw you demonstrating. Let’s both give it a go.”
Together, the two men did chin-ups on the bar. It didn’t even bend.
“So what’s left? The rope? Want me to check your knots?”
“Sure.”
Emma blushed as the man turned to her. But he didn’t ogle. His attention was all on the rope work. He checked through everything Diego had done, grabbing the rope to turn her without touching her body. “This nylon you have on her body should hold up, and you’ve got multiple attachment points to even out the stress, so nothing has to support her whole weight.” He ran the scratch rope through his hands. “Good solid hemp, in excellent shape. No weak spots. Never used?”
“I’ve used hemp, but not these ropes, no.”
“Perfect.” Bruce smiled at Emma. “You’re safe as houses.” Then to Diego. “Want an extra hand helping her up?”
“If Laera doesn’t mind.”
Laera rolled her eyes. “I know better than to take my Master away from a chance to play with rope.”
What about if I mind? But Emma quickly relaxed. She didn’t mind the idea of Bruce helping out. It was probably as close as she wanted to come to a ménage, but the idea of two muscular men showing her attention at the same time was pretty sexy. Diego is in control. And what we have has a little longevity to it, I hope. If he’s okay with it, I can be okay with it.
“Perfect,” said Diego, looking over at her. She gave him a smile and noticed some tension in his shoulders relax. He was making sure she was okay with it, in his own way, while making sure she didn’t look like she was topping from below. He knows how much I care about appearances.
“Lie down on the mat, Emma,” said Diego.
“On my front or on my back, Sir?” I’ll be more covered, on my front.
“On your back.”
“Damn.” She lay down, turning her head to one side because that was more comfortable than sitting straight up.
Laera knelt down on the mat and made eye contact with her. “You’re in good hands,” Laera said.
The two men were doing something with the rope tied to her ankles. Emma was sure she’d never be kneeling submissively while her man played with someone else, no matter how into rope he was.
“And don’t worry, Bruce won’t touch you. Because if he does, I’ll break his hands.” Laera grinned.
Not so submissive after all. Emma grinned back.
“What’s that, love?” asked Bruce.
“Oh, nothing, Master.” Laera smiled sweetly up at him.
Suddenly, her feet were yanked up until her legs were nearly straight up in the air. The lines attaching them were cinched to one of the rings up at the top of the frame. Diego, she noticed, was doing the tying. Bruce was just watching.
“Now for the rest of her,” said Diego.
Bruce nodded. At a hand signal from Diego, he got the rope that was tied to her corset. Diego got the one tied to her chest harness. They ran them through two of the rings at the top of the frame and then started pulling down. Slowly, she felt herself leave the floor.
“Um.”
“You’re going to be fine,” Laera assured her.
They didn’t lift her very high off the ground, just about four feet or so. Now she was glad she had been lying on her back. She didn’t have to look down, just up at the rope holding her. Bruce and Diego tied off the rope.
“You okay there?” asked Diego.
“I guess. Other than the fact that I’m hanging naked from a beam in a bondage club.”
Diego grinned at her. “So is hanging from a beam naked in a bondage club better than okay or worse?”
Dammit. “Better. I think.” She never thought she’d be doing anything quite like this.
“Good.” Diego pulled her legs up a little higher and recinched that rope. Then the two men checked each other’s knots. They nodded their approval to each other. Then Bruce clapped Diego on the back and signaled Laera.
“Have fun,” said Laera, getting to her feet. “We’re going to be, um, hanging around.”
Emma winced at the play on words. It didn’t seem the situation to carry on a normal conversation, but she’d decided she liked the other woman. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Laera flashed her a smile and then followed Bruce back to the others. Watching Bruce put his arm around Laera and the way Laera leaned back in, she could tell there was a great deal of affection between the two. She didn’t have time to dwell on that, however. Diego, standing on the far side of her, pushed on her side lightly, and she started to swing.
“Eek!” The motion made her aware of her predicament in a way she somehow hadn’t been. She realized he’d been holding on to her by some of the rope tied around her torso and keeping her still. He caught her as she swung back, and grinned.
“I like your fu
ll attention.”
Given that she was helpless, she thought she’d better give it to him. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He feathered his fingers over her skin, starting with her shoulders and moving onto her breasts. His touch was so light it gave her goose bumps. “So delightfully wrapped up. And yet, so completely exposed.”
She felt exposed. But maybe people’s attention would be on his rope instead of her bare breasts. And her legs were together, so possibly she wasn’t showing too much. Although the way her legs were raised higher than the rest of her body, she wasn’t sure.
He skipped her rope-covered upper stomach and trailed his fingers over her lower belly and then brushed her thighs. Then he worked back up. She squeezed her legs together tightly. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
His fingers circled her nipples, and they hardened in response. Looking down, she saw them sticking straight up toward the ceiling. He circled closer, finally gripping each nipple between two fingers and kneading them. Her breasts felt extra sensitive. She didn’t know whether that was from the rope or the situation. But each tug and pinch was sending sparks down her spine to her pussy. It was almost too much. She squirmed, and that just made her start swinging again. This time, he didn’t bother to stabilize her, but let the motion create a rhythmic tug on her nipples. She decided to remain very still.
He let go just long enough to clap her soundly on the bottom. Any remaining notion that she was covered below disappeared as his thumb flicked against her pussy with the same motion. Oh my God. But even though it made the blood rush to her face, it made her wetter, more aroused. Her pussy felt swollen with need. She thought she wasn’t really at a good angle for anyone to see, unless they walked by. Or maybe—she raised her head to look—the couple on the X-frame. But they were otherwise occupied.
He pinched, hard. She yelped.
“Your full attention, little treasure.” He didn’t sound angry, but he was insistent. “I know you like to be watched. People are watching. But that’s not an excuse for you to look around at the audience. I want you right here, right on me. I can take you further that way. Give you what you want. What you need.”
Bondage Ranch 5: His Little Treasure Page 13