Klaus

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Klaus Page 2

by Cari Silverwood


  He’d nailed it down in one go. I peered at him, feeling as submissive as ever. I loved this man, all of him – that strong face of his, the bristles on his chin that scraped my face and hands when we kissed, his male build, the knowledge he could snap me in two if he wished, yet he never would even when he was at his most sadistic. I adored running my fingers through his thick, blond hair.

  Him, who he was, how we were together, losing this was not happening. I’d do anything.

  What I needed was the truth.

  If I said no to his question, that was bad. If I said yes, it was worse. Only one answer worked for me.

  I whispered it, scared he’d tell me I was wrong. “I trust you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m not sure what Kat hoped to get from this. I don’t think it was to just confess.” His mouth twisted. “I’m unhappy I had to hear this from her. She was almost boasting, as well as maybe trying to become a part of our relationship. That’s how I read it. If either of us wants to go there, to introduce another, we have to discuss it before we do anything.”

  “I know. I know. I was drunk.” Tears began to spill all of their own accord, dropping onto the concrete at my knees. “I know that was my fault too. I was just admiring her and she took it further than I imagined but it was my fault. I apologize, Sir. Please don’t say this is over. Please?” My voice squeaked.

  I didn’t bother wiping away my tears. I kept my hands at my back, fingers twisting together. If ever there was a time to be good and obey, it was now.

  “I never said that.”

  The shadows were deepening.

  I swallowed. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t want Kat to think she owns any part of you. You’re mine.” He nudged up my chin. “I don’t want you lying even by omission ever again. I do not want you ever getting drunk again, unless I’m around. Clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Some of the tightness eased from my chest. He was forgiving me. Hallelujah.

  “Now.” He rose to his feet. “You’re going to show you trust me.”

  Then he went to his pack and returned with a bag of needles, cuffs, and a few other things.

  This was good, wasn’t it?

  “Close your eyes.” And a blindfold too, but it was okay, I’d trusted him with far more devious things.

  I shut my eyes and felt him settle the cloth over my face and tie it at the back. Without preamble, without explaining what he was up to, he cuffed my wrists and tied them to something on the wall behind. He arranged the towel under my knees so it was doubled over, and tucked the cups of my bra beneath my breasts. Normally he worked up to needles, at least a little. Gave me mental space. Not this time. The coldness of an alcohol swab circled and swept across my nipples. That made me straighten.

  I heard the rasp of a deep, prolonged breath. My man was a breast man.

  Guess I had thrust them in his face almost. Funny.

  The swab circled my nipple again and he hummed. My sadist was getting off on this, of course. Despite striving to not smile, one was going to arrive any second.

  The tip of a needle pricked the side of my right nipple. Oh fuck. Smiling could wait. They hurt going in. Every time.

  “Be very still.” His big hand wrapped around my breast as the needle tunneled in. Fuck. It’d be shallow, he’d be watching the metal work along just under the skin. When he was like this, he narrowed down his world until nothing existed except needle and skin.

  I huffed through the pain until the point exited and he capped the needle with something. When he did the left one, also running it along above the nipple, I was ready. Didn’t help much, but I was ready. My spine stiffened and I dug my nails into my palm, but I didn’t flinch. That would be too damn dangerous. I liked my nipples where they were.

  “Good.” He grunted once, pausing.

  I imagined him examining what he’d done to me and it sent a thrill of lust through me.

  “Pretty. Love how they tighten up when I needle them.” If a man could purr...

  Moisture trickled from my pussy. How I liked being his victim, his pet, his girl he did nasty despicable things to. I shivered, as with fingertips, he caressed the underside of my breasts – so close I felt the warmth of his exhalations.

  There was the rustle of the pack opening, then he wove and tied something around the needle. From the sounds and the series of little tugs, he’d attached the other end to the pack just a few feet in front of my knees. My wrists were stretched toward the wall at my back, any more tension and my elbows would hurt. My nipples were inextricably pulled outward and tied to the backpack.

  Caught in one place, subject to his whims. I wriggled my butt, wanting to beg, Touch me, Sir. Pleeease.

  The scrape of shoes told me he stood to my left.

  “This is trust,” he said quietly. “Don’t move or you’ll tear the needles out. Don’t speak. No matter what happens. I’m going for a five minute walk. I promise you are safe. Prove you trust me.”

  Already, the prolonged tug of pain was converting to the buzz that I loved. A last tweak from his hand on the string made me hiss and stirred up a new peak of pain. Red hot but niiice. My pulse intensified and beat inside my nipples.

  He was going away. Five minutes? Fine. I could do this. He’d not risk my safety. He’d watch. No one was here to see my predicament.

  Damn, I wished he’d played with me a little. The ache of arousal had begun as soon as the pain had changed to that throb, throb, throb. I squeezed my thighs together and sighed as those inner muscles created a nice tension in my clit. I could get off that way, but I wouldn’t. No. I wanted to let him orchestrate all this. If I did it, he’d punish me anyway tonight, just because he could.

  Ripping off my nipples wasn’t exactly a safe and sane possibility, but then BDSM never was precisely that. The danger sang to me. Sitting here, strung out and trussed up, on display, even if it only was for him? Exquisite.

  I could do this.

  The obvious tromp, tromp of him leaving on this walk was still disturbing. The sounds dwindled and stopped. That had been a long way.

  I gave my head a shake. Do this. Be good.

  The ache in my nipples waxed and waned.

  When you were blind and had no watch, with only the swish of a breeze through the trees, and the calls of wildlife to measure it by, time became nonsensical. It distorted in your mind.

  He’d be back soon. I adjusted my knees, wincing as I almost slipped off a bump on the towel. My nipples were going to hate me for that.

  He’d be back any minute.

  A murmur alerted me and I listened, head angled. Were those voices? They were. Men’s voices. This time the tromp and crack of twig was of many feet, heavy, warning of the approach of strangers.

  No. I blinked under the blindfold, feeling my eyelashes catch on the cloth, twisting my wrists. Stuck.

  Klaus would be watching. He’d come and save me. Throw a towel over me. They couldn’t see inside the fort until they were at the door.

  Any second, he’d be back.

  Any.

  Second.

  The footsteps and the voices trickled to a stop at the same moment, when the sharper echo said they’d arrived at the door.

  Nooo. I ceased to breathe, wriggling just a smidge, praying this was all some set up, but they whispered and muttered fuck and what the hell, then came quiet hoarse laughter before they retreated out the door.

  Oh god, I prayed they weren’t people I’d ever meet again.

  Where was Klaus? Where the hell was he?

  Had they gone? Ear cocked toward where the door would be, I waited. One man returned, the scent betraying a smoker. He spat then navigated around me as far as the wall on one side then walked across the front, around the pack, to do the same on the other side. Looking at me, clearly.

  Bugger. If this went wrong, if these were bad people, I could get raped.

  I mustn’t speak. My throat caught as if it was clogged wi
th mud. I must not speak. His last instruction had embedded in my mind.

  Maybe this was Klaus? If I was safe, it must be? Oh fuck, let that be true.

  “Mm-mmm.” Male voice. Super deep. Rough.

  Someone plucked on the string, jerking at my nipple enough that I gasped.

  Trouble with a big T. I tensed, then wriggled back enough to realize I was going nowhere unless I wanted to lose some parts of me that were terribly essential bits.

  Where was he?

  Then, everything clicked. Calm drifted in. This must be Klaus. It had to be. I relaxed, breathed easier. All I had to do was be silent and wait.

  It was him because it had to be. Klaus had promised.

  When he crouched nearby and fingers carefully moved aside the crotch of my panties, baring me there, I kept up the mantra. It’s Klaus. It is.

  His thick fingers slipped, prodded, and wormed up inside me. If I’d been scared I’d have been tense and screaming by then. It was Klaus. I sighed and let my mouth part, let myself feel the pleasure.

  A man’s lips pressed on the side of my face. He kissed me softly before moving to beside my ear and kissing there also.

  “You know it’s me, don’t you?” His warm murmur vibrated into my skin.

  Yes!

  I suppressed a gleeful smile. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” He forced his fingers higher into my pussy. “I can tell. You’re all wet for me.”

  “Oh!” True.

  For a second I could only concentrate on what his fingers were doing inside me, on how they filled me, then I came back to what he’d said. “Yes, Sir. I’m only yours.” I bit my lower lip, and squirmed, hoping to encourage him. He wasn’t moving.

  Then I dared to whisper, “Fingerfuck me, please, Sir.”

  His laugh was evil, but I didn’t care, even when he shoved upwards so hard my bottom lifted and my nipples stretched a mile.

  “You don’t get to say what I do, do you, Jodie?” His hand waggled back and forth making my body sway.

  This time the pull of the needles scared me. “No! Sir, sir, sir! I don’t. No.” Safewording was an option.

  At the last moment, he extracted his fingers. “Right answer.”

  The string around the needles came off then the blindfold. In the fading light I spotted the edge of a speaker at the door. All those men – it had been recorded sounds. He still smelt vaguely of cigarettes.

  “You tricked me.” Not completely, but for a while.

  “I wanted to show you how deep your trust could run, if you let it.”

  My forehead wrinkled and I tongued my lip, wishing I could hold my breasts to subdue the pain. They felt heavy and abused. Vulnerable. What else did he plan?

  “What if I’d failed?”

  “You were never going to. Stop doubting yourself. But if you had, I’d have rescued you, did it again another day, in a different way, until you learned.”

  The small quirk of one brow and slight smile said how much that would’ve pleased him too. No matter what I did, Klaus was prepared to forgive me, to train me until I felt the depth of certainty he did.

  Well then. This was a revelation. Whatever he called it, this was his way of saying I love you, no matter what you do.

  I couldn’t think of anything proper to say. I ducked my head, then peeked at him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Come here.” He helped me to my feet then with my panties still askew and needles still in place, he led me outside to the stone step and sat. He drew me down to him, and pulled me facedown over his lap. My breasts hung down, squashed against his thigh by my weight. Perplexed and still cuffed, I twisted to look at him.

  “Any words to say before I spank you?”

  “I thought I passed your test?”

  “You did. This is for kissing Kat and not telling me.”

  What? The first smack jolted me forward and stung across half my butt. Several more swats landed before I blurted a reply.

  “I...but the needles? That was punishment?”

  “These little toys?” He paused to carefully tease me, first left nipple then right, manipulating the metal and holding each needle outward under tension, then letting go. I winced and tried to move, but his other hand, at the small curve of my back, kept me pinned.

  “Ssss! Yes. Those! Yes.” I panted. Note to self: Don’t remind a sadist of his sadistic experiments.

  “Not punishment. Just fun and a way to remind you to keep my instructions in mind.”

  “I see.” I shut my eyes to better feel what was happening. Punishment or not, the heat and ache from the spanking and the needles were blurring pleasantly.

  “Now. Start again?”

  “No?” It was worth a try.

  He chuckled.

  This time the blows were harder, and varied from side to side. As the warmth edged into a scorching intensity, I squealed and went to escape, only to be wrenched into place and smacked harder.

  He wasn’t getting me to count. When would he stop?

  My eyes were half on the darkness at Klaus’s feet and half on the bush around us. I prayed no one else had decided to visit the fort track at night.

  When he stopped and let me slip to my knees, I was crying a little. I was a masochist of sorts but an unexpected barrage could undo me. My ass throbbed goddamned worse than my nipples.

  I wondered what gauge needle he’d used. Big, knowing him.

  Even in the low light, I could see the telltale darkness of leaked blood on my areolas.

  “Owww.” I hissed. Looking had somehow awoken the sting.

  He leaned over, elbow on knee, chin propped on fist.

  Above, flocks of bats squeaked as they flew past. Evening was here though the sky was still pale against the tree tops.

  “Next,” he said softly.

  I sat up as well as I could, watching him, attentive. Gravel on the stone step dug into my lower legs. Where my butt nudged onto my legs, my skin flared hot. I blinked. “Sir? Next?” Surely he was done?

  “Are you going to kiss anyone else without permission?”

  I shook my head. “No!” Hell no. Next time he’d use my clit for a pin cushion, knowing him, whether he called it punishment or not.

  “Good.” He reached down and cupped my jaw, his broad palm beneath, so he had full control of my head, and he thumbed warmly along the side, over and over, and over.

  I relaxed utterly, eyes closing, shoulders drooping. This simple possessive gesture floored me every time. I hummed inside and I smiled. I’d wanted this so much in the past, this give and take, this ownership, and never understood myself. My hands being bound at my back in the leather cuffs only made me feel safer, more his.

  Punished, man-handled, mindfucked, I was content.

  “You did well. Did very well.” Klaus urged me to stand.

  With my wrists cuffed, I wobbled, almost off balance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Falling down the steps would result in a mean case of gravel rash.

  But he steadied me easily, then unzipped his shorts one-handed and pulled out his cock. It stood up, pointing skyward. I figured it was beckoning me.

  “Climb up here.”

  What was coming looked promising. “Nice.” I smirked.

  He snorted. “Legs either side.”

  My breasts swayed as I carefully straddled him. The tip of his cock poked then slid to that oh-so-right spot, nudging in. Feeling every tiny movement as the head slid in my wetness, I wiggled to get my underwear out of the way. His fingers were at my hips and he reached between my legs to roll my moist panties even further aside.

  “Ohhh.” My entrance stretched, accommodating the girth of his cock as it cruised higher. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Ffff...”

  “Down.”

  I sank onto him, feeling that awesome slow penetration. Once fully in, with his balls under me, I rested, eyes shut, catching my breath. Not that I could do much with my wrists cuffed and my legs spread wide. More of my moisture gathered.

>   “Think you’re staying there?” Klaus murmured. His cock twitched once, then his hands combing into my hair from either side. He twisted his fingers, anchoring his grip then he made me lean backward. More. Further...

  I panicked and whined at being bent over empty space. “Wait! No. Please!” One mistake and I’d topple off him and land on my head on the concrete steps.

  “Shhh. No more words. I won’t drop you.”

  My pussy clamped in tighter, as if I could hang onto him that way. Trust. Remember?

  Damn. This was almost more than I could take.

  Once he had me bent like a bow, at neck and back, he took one hand from my hair and rummaged in his pocket. If my hands were free, I’d have been clawing at his shirt to stop myself falling. Bastard.

  A second later a buzz engulfed my clit and a delicious vibration. The shockwave rocked into me.

  With his cock deep inside and the bondage, with that overture of pain, I shot into that orgasmic mind space. Writhing on him, huffing, with my pussy tightening, needing him deeper, I tensed. There... Almost. There. My spine bowed further. My mouth opened wider. Unable to get free, unable to do more than feel what he did, I gulped and held a breath... Yes. Fuck, yes.

  Then he bit me, bit right over my nipple.

  The sudden unexpected spear of pain made me convulse and lose the orgasm. Nooo.

  Oh fuck. Breathe. Breathe. Tears dribbled from the corners of my eyes. With my hands straining against the cuffs, I gasped and swore.

  He let go of my nipple.

  Bastard, bastard, bastard.

  The vibe did its trick, again. That effortless inexorable buzz. Pleasure bored into me, mounting. My eyes rolled up. I tensed and he sucked my nipple into his hot mouth, not biting, no. The vibe buzzed deep, deeper, as if to merge with my clit.

  Ohmigod. I thrashed, squirming against the hand in my hair, dreading the bite of teeth but unable to do more than ascend toward that climax.

  The alternating sucking and biting, the helplessness, the vibration, it made every muscle of my body strive to get nearer to whatever sensation he deigned to inflict.

 

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