“This is me and no one else. Do as I say.” She waited a long minute and then nodded slightly. He leaned over to attach the chain to her clit ring, then tugged it gently. “Come along.”
A glance at his watch as they walked showed there were four minutes to spare. He unlocked the door and led her inside, shutting it firmly behind them. “Talk to me,” he said, turning to her. “This wasn’t about your parents being upset. What sort of bad memories did this dredge up?”
“Well, I’m not exactly Twiggy, and the comments on blogs and such were less than complimentary. If someone sells that footage… I don’t want to be called a pig all over cyberspace again.”
“I promise you that won’t happen.” He stroked her hair. “I had the security cameras disabled for a short time frame. We were within that time frame; I swear it.”
He could almost see relief surging out from her pores. Then anger set in. “That was mean.”
“Was it?” He tugged on the leash. “Your pussy’s wet. I can tell.” He cupped a breast, then pinched a nipple. “And these little buds are nice and hard. You enjoyed doing as I asked.”
He dropped the clothes and pulled her close and claimed her lips, holding her tight as his tongue darted into her mouth. Her soft moan made him want her even more, but he would not rush things. He’d made careful plans for this evening, and they would go exactly as he wanted them to.
A hard tug on the leash made her gasp, and he savored the sound. “Now let’s eat; I’m starved.”
Desert Surrender
Chapter Seven
His calm announcement that it was time to eat made her want to throttle him. They could have been discovered out there in the hall. And while she’d gotten partially naked in Rome, on a bet, getting totally naked and being led down a hallway with a chain attached to her pussy was a whole new ball of wax.
The real problem, as far as she could see, was that he was right. She liked it. A lot. Her pussy was drenched, and her nipples throbbed like there was no tomorrow. Maddox moved toward a long table that sat empty in the middle of the room. He pulled out one chair and set it so it faced the other one. Then he patted the seat.
“This one is for you.” He tightened the slack on the leash. “Come along.”
“You like saying that, don’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
She sat down, the wood cool against her bare skin. “Am I going to be tied to this chair?”
“No. Tonight’s scene will be a little different. If you don’t follow the rules, well…we’ll discuss consequences later.”
Clarissa nodded, still a little shaken from walking down the hallway naked. She sat down in the chair. “What are the rules?”
Maddox leaned over to caress her cheek. “You look very delicious sitting there.”
“Oh, does that mean you’re going to eat me for dinner?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Things are definitely looking up.”
The smile he gave her made her nipples tighten. “Food first, play later.”
“Good. I’m starving.” She squirmed a little. “Are we going to order something?”
He sat down in the chair opposite from her. “I’ve already ordered. You’re going to eat what I tell you to eat. It’s a very simple thing.”
This wasn’t exactly what she’d expected for tonight. She remembered reading about this in books, where the Dom controlled what the sub ate and drank. She remembered thinking it would be a cold day in hell before she allowed someone that much control over her.
Yet here she sat, naked and not objecting. Why would this bother her, she wondered, when being tied last night hadn’t bothered her one bit? Was it because the bondage had led to sex, and she knew it would? This seemed so strange, to allow complete control like this.
“Has the idea soaked in yet?”
“Yes. Basically you’re taking away my right to choose what I eat.”
“Exactly. I have total control over what goes in your mouth tonight.” He leaned toward her. “We’ll see how well you follow directions.”
“Although you might not guess it from what you’ve read about me, I can follow directions with the best of them. Bring it on.”
“Stay right where you are.” His lips curved in a slight smile, and then he stood and walked through another door and disappeared from sight. She took advantage of his absence to look around. The room they were in contained an oval table and six chairs. Parts of the books she’d read had talked about people being used as tables, which worried her a bit. She didn’t exactly have a flat surface on which to place a glass or plate.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she whispered as she glanced at the living area. Decorated in a contemporary style, the furniture was white leather and seemed very stark. Throw pillows of dark blue added the only color. The tables in that room were all glass and brass. No knickknacks or paintings showed Maddox’s interest in southwestern art or the lifestyle.
This room, unlike his house, had definitely been done by a decorator. She wondered what the bedrooms looked like. Curtains lined the far wall. She imagined a glass wall behind them. The wall would overlook the strip, but she didn’t remember seeing any balconies on the building’s facade.
She tapped her shoe against the floor. What was taking him so long? Or she supposed the better question should be, what was he doing in there? Somehow she didn’t think the kitchen was in that direction. She glanced around, found another doorway. Through it she could see a refrigerator. She supposed there was a stove in there too, or at least a microwave.
Becoming restless, she slid her shoes off, then put them back on. Waiting wasn’t one of her stronger points, and she wanted nothing more than to go and see what was happening in the other room.
Or was he waiting for her to do that? Was this a mind game? Was he testing how long she would hold out before giving in to her curiosity? He’d told her to stay in the seat, and she would. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
He hadn’t, however, told her she couldn’t talk. “Maddox? Did you get lost? This is your house, you know. I didn’t think you’d need a road map to make it back to the dining room.”
No answer came, and she tapped her feet again. She wanted to stand, to move around. She hated just sitting. And just sitting here naked made her feel very vulnerable. She was sure that’s what he wanted. She drummed her nails on the table, then slapped the heel of her shoe against the hardwood floor.
“Relax, Clarissa.” She turned to watch him push a covered cart into the room. He stopped beside her and sat down. “You act as if you’ve been sitting here for hours.”
“I thought maybe you had to go to the market or run out and kill the fatted calf or something.” She eyed the tray. “What happens if I don’t like what you’re offering?”
“You already said you don’t have any food allergies.” He shrugged. “I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Well, if you’re going to make me eat something gross like liver, then there’s a problem.”
“A good submissive doesn’t question her Dom. She does what he asks, when he asks.” He pushed the lid of the tray up, revealing several plates. One of them held shrimp, which made her mouth water. There was also crab, shredded chicken, and cubes of steak. Besides the meat, there were plates of vegetables: carrots, zucchini, celery, mushrooms, cauliflower, and broccoli. There were also two dishes that both contained unidentified substances, one brown, the other white, that made her cringe slightly.
“There’s no dip for those raw vegetables,” she said. “Perhaps we should send for the waiter.”
He gave her a sly smile but remained silent.
“I’ll take some shrimp and some carrots. I don’t really care for celery.”
“Then eat a piece.”
Clarissa opened her mouth to ask if he’d heard her, then clamped it shut. Tonight, he’d said, was all about seeing how well she followed orders. She reached over, picked up a piece of celery, and moved it toward her mouth, pausing whe
n he held up a finger.
“Only a small bite, for now.” This was strange, being told what she could and couldn’t eat and how much of it to eat. She’d much rather have a bite of shrimp than the celery. Hopefully that tasty morsel would come later.
She bit off a piece of the celery, chewing slowly, then swallowing. “I always thought this was like eating cardboard, except with strings.”
“Take another bite, a larger one.” The sound of the crunch filled the room, and she felt like every time she moved her teeth it echoed. “You may put that down now.”
An empty plate sat on the tray, and she put the celery on there, then turned her gaze to him expectantly.
He nodded, then ordered her to pick up a carrot. They went through much the same movements with it as with the celery, then followed with mushrooms and broccoli.
Clarissa’s fingers itched to pick up the shrimp or at least a piece of chicken or steak. Doing as he asked was getting harder by the second as the small bites of vegetables only served to fuel her hunger instead of feed it.
“May I have some shrimp?”
“The plate in the middle. There’s some crackers around it. Use that to dip out the food and eat it.”
She stared at the concoction. “What is it?”
“Food first, questions later.”
A slight shake of her head showed her reluctance. “It looks vaguely like liver.” She leaned closer to it. “Now that I’m looking at it, I’m pretty sure it’s ground-up pâté.”
“I didn’t ask for a review, I asked you to eat it. Just a small bite on a cracker.”
Clarissa wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t like liver. I’ll pass.” She picked up a piece of shrimp and popped it in her mouth, chewing noisily. “This is much better.” She reached for another one, stopping with the prawn in midair when he cleared his throat.
“Put it down.”
Their gazes locked. His expression was impassive, and she wondered what was going through his mind. If she failed this test, would their fun be over? What harm could it do to push it a little? On the other hand, she didn’t want to jeopardize what could turn out to be a fantastic relationship.
The shrimp dropped noiselessly back onto the plate, and she put her hand in her lap, feeling a little like a child who had been caught stealing cookies between meals.
“You’re a bad girl, Clarissa. I told you to eat the other food, and you ate the shrimp. What am I going to do with you?”
“Um, spank me?”
“No, much too easy.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Stand up and walk around the table until I decide.”
The order took her aback just a little. She hadn’t expected something like that. She stood and started to walk, the long chain still hanging from her pussy dragging behind her.
“Hands behind your back, head down.” She followed his instructions, feeling strangely exhilarated. When she’d made one pass around the table, she stopped. “Continue walking until I say otherwise.”
She wanted to snap at him, to ask what her walking had to do with his thinking. Instead she heaved a huge, put-upon sigh and started off again. The table wasn’t that big, so making a circuit didn’t take too long. She’d made six when he finally told her to stop.
“Come over here.” He pointed to a spot right in front of him. She moved toward him, feeling the same sense of excited vulnerability she’d felt last evening.
“Hand me your leash.”
She lifted the chain from the floor, gathered up its length before handing it to him. He stood as she placed it in his hand. “Spread your legs, arms at your side.”
“I’m not sure I like instructions like that. Makes me feel like a disobedient child.”
“You’re a submissive doing as she’s told.” He trailed the chain up her stomach, threading it around one nipple ring and then the other before looping it around her neck and taking it back down to her pussy. She felt a slight tug as it passed through her clit ring before he let the length of it drop to the floor.
“Very nice. Climb onto the table and lie on your back.”
Clarissa glanced at the table, swallowing hard. “It looks rather small.”
“Do as I ask.” She nodded, sitting on the edge and scooting back. The wood was very cold against her backside, and she shivered as she lay down. She fit on there perfectly, which surprised her just a bit. From this position, he would be able to get to her from wherever he wanted.
“Are you going to tie me?”
He remained silent, and she felt her chain move just a little, heard a click. “What was that?” He ignored the question and trailed a length of it back up her body to the other end of the table before she heard another click.
“Maddox, what are you doing?”
He ignored the question and moved to the tray. She watched him carefully as he lifted the plate of shrimp, then came back to her.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it was dangerous to eat when you’re lying down?” She shivered as he trailed a piece of shrimp over her nipple, then jumped when he dumped the entire plateful on her stomach.
Her movement pulled on her rings, and she gasped. “Just so you know, I attached the chain to a little hook in the table. I made sure it was nice and taut, so anytime you move it will pull on your rings. Really, you should just lie still.”
“But…”
“Since you didn’t want to eat, I’m going to, and I’m going to use you as my table.” He walked back over to the table and picked up the plate full of brown goo. She watched him walk toward her, trailing his finger through it. He lifted it to his mouth, licked at the substance.
“Chocolate. Yummy.” He scooped out a handful and put a little bit on each breast. The food was cold, and she moved slightly. Her rings pulled again, making her groan. The feeling was half pain, half pleasure, and heightened by the cold from the food.
How could she have been so stupid as to turn down one of her favorite foods? “It didn’t look like chocolate.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” He went back to the tray, picked up the other plate of food she didn’t recognize. “Hummus.”
“Of course. Chickpeas and yogurt.” She groaned loudly as he tipped the plate over her pussy. The frigid food slid over her mons, and she arched her back, pulling yet again on her rings. “Ouch.” She lay back down, trying not to move as the cold seeped into her body.
“You really should do as I say. I wrapped the chain around the rings several times, to provide maximum pull when you moved.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.” She clasped the edges of the table with her hands in an effort to stay still. It was hard, though, since he was now trailing his fingers through the hummus, moving it onto her stomach and thighs.
He went back to the tray several times, decorating her body with vegetables, chicken, crab, and steak before picking up a fork. “Dinnertime.”
Clarissa watched him as he perched on the edge of the table, lowering the fork toward her stomach. Her breath came in short, wispy gasps as he pushed it into a piece of shrimp. She felt the pressure but no sting from the tines as he speared his food. He lifted the morsel to his mouth and popped it inside, chewing slowly.
“Cocktail sauce,” he said around a mouthful. He walked back to the tray, picked up the sauce, and then dumped it over the shrimp on her stomach. The cool liquid seemed to seep into her bones as he speared another shrimp and dragged it through the red paste. He took a bite and nodded his approval.
“Much better.” She wiggled as he stabbed something else, the tine of the fork pressing against her skin. The pull from the chain intensified as she wiggled, and she groaned. “Does the pain, even the slightest bit of it, feel good or bad?”
Clarissa watched him eat a piece of steak, her mouth watering. Strangely enough, the pain felt good. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him that, though. How would he use that information?
She groaned loudly as he trailed the fork through the hummus, the tines sliding along her slit. “Answer me.”
>
“Feels good.” She closed her eyes as the tip of the fork slid into her slit, sliding along her soft inner folds. The movement made her body stir in ways she’d never felt before, her clit jumping as if to beg for a taste of the metal utensil. He used his free hand to widen her lips, then lightly pricked her pussy with the fork. The stabs weren’t painful, and they certainly didn’t pierce her skin. What they did was make her want to beg for more.
He continued his prodding, never once touching the fork against her clit. She arched into him several times, the movement causing the same pulling sensation on her clit and nipples. Wetness flooded her, and she wondered if he would use his tongue on her, make her come.
The thought flew away as he traced the fork up her body, gently pricking her as he went. He stopped from time to time, spearing a piece of food and lifting it to his mouth.
Clarissa forced herself to lie still, even as she wanted to scream at him to stop playing with her, to put his hands back on her pussy, to make her come. Finally he picked up a piece of the shrimp, dragged it through the sauce, and then lifted her head. The movement tightened the tension on the chain and made her groan.
“Eat.” He put the shrimp in front of her mouth, and she ate it, chewing slowly as he watched.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like more?”
“Yes, please.” He laid her head down gently, then walked behind her and unsnapped the link above her head. The tension on the chain released, and she sighed in relief.
“Thank you, again.”
“Sit up.” She did as he asked, and food fell to the table, some of it spilling onto the floor. She started to get off the table, and he pressed down on her shoulder. “Stay on the table.”
He fed her several pieces of shrimp, running each one through the sauce that still lingered on her stomach or had dropped to her thighs. Then he put both hands under a breast, lifted it toward her mouth.
“Lick.” The chocolate, mixed with the saltiness of her skin, tasted delicious. He stroked the back of her hair as she lapped at herself. “Such a good girl. Suck your nipple, clean it off.”
Desert Surrender Page 8