To Command and Collar
Page 45
“Most definitely.” He gripped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet.
Kim looked around, starting to realize what had happened—their little game had transformed easygoing men into doms, and the atmosphere of the simple boat outing had changed.
Cullen had already dragged Andrea back to the cockpit. She could hear the smack of his huge hand hitting bare flesh, and the sound was distracting. Erotic.
Marcus had pushed Gabi on her knees. Kim stared at him. This wasn’t the ever so polite Southerner she’d stayed with. His blue eyes were icy as he told Gabi her diversion had caused his beer to get warm, and that was simply unacceptable.
“Your beer got warm?” Scowling up at her dom, Gabi pushed her hair out of her eyes. “God, you’re uptight. Did the aliens maybe forget to remove your anal probe?”
“That does it.” He grabbed her hair and pushed her toward the cockpit.
Kim grinned. The pampered doms wanted a comfortable bench to sit on to punish their subs.
Still smiling, she looked at Master R. He was studying her with a speculative look in his eyes as if assessing how much she could take. She swallowed. “What are you going to do, Master?”
“Strip for me, please.”
Oh boy. He might be enjoying himself, but his tone said she’d better watch her step. The first tiny flare of arousal sparked to life in her belly. She pulled off the top and stepped out of the skimpy bottom. When he put his hands behind his back, she knew what he wanted and assumed the inspect position he’d taught her. Legs apart, hands behind head, breasts elevated. Cold dribbles of water ran down her back from her tangled hair. The mesh was warm under her bare feet, the breeze cool on her damp body.
He walked around her slowly, his gaze warmer than the sun against her shoulders. “I prefer your nipples to be more colorful,” he said finally. “The water turned them blue.”
What kind of complaint was that?
He shook his head at her when she tried to say something. “Stay in position, sumisita.” He went into the salon and returned with the picnic basket and some cushions, which he tossed around the area. After rummaging in the basket, he pulled out…a packet of wooden skewers? Rubber bands? And a brown lunch sack.
What the heck?
He opened the packet, removing two of the skewers. She eyed them with a frown. They looked awfully pointy.
“You think they’re sharp?” he asked in a mild tone as he broke them in half, making them a few inches long. He lined up the pointed ends, wrapped his fingers around all four…and pressed them gently on her upper breast. “Are they sharp?” he asked, as if merely curious.
The sensation, just short of pain, took her breath. “Um. I guess.”
“Good.” He tapped them against her skin, lightly in a circle around her breasts, leaving marks like mouse prints behind. She stiffened at the tiny stinging—arousing—pains. Her nipples couldn’t get any tighter, and her clit poked out as if wanting attention as well.
Master R worked his way to the edge of her nipple, then ran his free hand between her legs. He slid his fingers easily through her wet folds and caressed her hard nub to urgency.
Her hips tilted forward as his middle finger penetrated her to the knuckle. Then the second knuckle.
“I think we’ll explore pain more today,” he said, his soft voice curling across her nerves. “You seem to be ready.”
Pain. Her pussy clenched, and his finger was right there to tell. Dammit. The thought of pain terrified her…and turned her on at the same time.
And he knew. The little sharp sticks worked in toward her left breast and back out, not quite touching the areola. Teasing her. She could feel her breasts growing heavier, more swollen. Aching.
He tapped the sharp, sharp points right on top of her nipple.
The sudden bite of pain sent carnal electricity ripping from her sensitive peak straight to her clit.
When she tried to step back, he pushed his finger deeper in her pussy in an intimate anchoring. The sticks moved to her other breast. Oh God, knowing how it felt increased her anticipation. Her left nipple still stung as he circled her right breast.
Her clit throbbed wildly, and when the points jabbed ever so lightly into her right nipple, she almost came.
But not quite. Her whole body flamed with need. She whimpered when he pulled back, leaving her empty inside.
His firm lips curved into a smile. “I love the sounds you make, cariño.” He kissed her sweetly, then tugged on one nipple, mercilessly pulling it into a point.
Sweet kisses. Mean fingers. Her brain spun.
He placed a skewer horizontally above and below the peak, pinching it between them. Her mouth dropped open as he put rubber bands on each end. Homemade nipple clamps.
Her nipple flattened as he increased the tension with the rubber bands, and the pain grew. “Mmm,” she protested, afraid to yell, “ow.”
“Breathe through the pain. One breath. Another.” He held her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Take the pain—for your master.”
For Master R. She sucked air in through her nose, her teeth gritted.
“Good gatita.” The tenderness in his voice increased her determination to endure.
The pain eased into a mild pinching sensation, but one that didn’t stop, keeping her constantly aware of the discomfort.
He did her other nipple the same way, watching her expectantly as her teeth ground together, before the bite let her catch her breath.
“Such a good sumisa.” Taking a step back, he surveyed his work. “Very nice. You may relax now.”
She put her hands down at her sides, hissing when the movement jostled her breasts.
“Hey, that’s a great look.” Cullen’s rough voice. He and Andrea had returned. His sub was stripped as bare as Kim. Andrea’s eyes went wide when she saw what Master R had done. She glanced warily at Cullen.
He grinned. “Those big nipples of yours will squash and look great.” As Andrea sputtered something in Spanish, he asked Raoul, “Got any more of them, buddy?”
Master R set the package and the bag of tiny rubber bands in Kim’s hands. “Take them to Master Cullen,” he said.
Kim crossed the trampoline and dropped the evil things into his big palm.
“Thanks, pet. Now go on back to Master Raoul.”
I’m not sure I want to. Kim eyed the water. Escape again? No, he’d catch her and probably be truly upset. With a sigh, she returned and knelt in front of Master R.
The trampoline vibrated as Marcus returned, followed by a dutiful-looking Gabi. He pointed to his feet, and Gabi went to her knees.
Kim exchanged a rueful glance with her friend, feeling how things had changed. When they’d visited BDSM clubs together, the scenes had been just erotic fun.
Today was more. Under Master R’s teasing, Kim heard a serious note, the undeniable will of a master. Perhaps this was the difference between a dom who didn’t really know her and one who knew exactly where her limits lay…and intended to push them.
Feeling herself sway with more than the movement of the boat, she met his contemplative gaze.
“Raoul.” Marcus was studying Kim’s breasts, laughter in his sharp blue eyes. “Might I ask if you happen to have anything else interesting?”
“If I’d known the submissives would become so unruly, I’d have brought my toy bag. But there are a few more pervertables in the picnic basket.”
Marcus patted Gabi’s head. “Well, we just see what I can find, won’t we, sugar?” He stepped around her and lifted the lid.
Kim bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Gabi’s eyes started to spark. Temper, temper, Gabrielle.
“Cullen, the man’s got rope.” Marcus tossed a handful of precut ropes and a pair of heavy scissors into the middle of the area and dug farther. “Ah, here we go.” He straightened, holding rubber bands and two plastic clamps, about three inches long with serrated edges.
Gabi’s eyes shot fire. “You are not putting those on me. You dumbass, those are for potato chip bags, not for breasts.”
“Hands behind your back.”
She looked at the set of his jaw, and her hands laced together behind her back.
“Very nice, sugar.”
With the first clamp, Gabi yelped, hissing as he wound a rubber band on the handle part to lessen the pressure.
Kim’s eyes narrowed when she realized the clamps had chunks chipped from the handles so the rubber bands wouldn’t slip. Master R had used them before, hadn’t he? She gave her master a scowl. Tricksy dom.
Grinning, he bent and whispered, “She’ll have a tantrum any minute now.”
Kim smothered a laugh. When staying with the couple, she’d heard some pretty creative insults. Gabi’s voice did carry a ways.
Marcus put the second clamp on, and Gabi made a sound like a teakettle.
Smiling, he held her upper arms, keeping her from moving. After minute, he asked, “Better?”
Gabi glared. “If you want to add some variety to your sex life, why don’t you just use your other hand?”
Marcus barked a laugh. Pushing her legs apart, he cupped her pussy, then held his glistening palm up to show her. “You seem to like this kind of variety, darlin’.” He smiled as she turned red and sputtered, obviously searching for an insult potent enough.
Kim looked around, starting to realize what had happened—their little game had transformed easygoing men into doms, and the atmosphere of the simple boat outing had changed.
Cullen had already dragged Andrea back to the cockpit. She could hear the smack of his huge hand hitting bare flesh, and the sound was distracting. Erotic.
Marcus had pushed Gabi on her knees. Kim stared at him. This wasn’t the ever so polite Southerner she’d stayed with. His blue eyes were icy as he told Gabi her diversion had caused his beer to get warm, and that was simply unacceptable.
“Your beer got warm?” Scowling up at her dom, Gabi pushed her hair out of her eyes. “God, you’re uptight. Did the aliens maybe forget to remove your anal probe?”
“That does it.” He grabbed her hair and pushed her toward the cockpit.
Kim grinned. The pampered doms wanted a comfortable bench to sit on to punish their subs.
Still smiling, she looked at Master R. He was studying her with a speculative look in his eyes as if assessing how much she could take. She swallowed. “What are you going to do, Master?”
“Strip for me, please.”
Oh boy. He might be enjoying himself, but his tone said she’d better watch her step. The first tiny flare of arousal sparked to life in her belly. She pulled off the top and stepped out of the skimpy bottom. When he put his hands behind his back, she knew what he wanted and assumed the inspect position he’d taught her. Legs apart, hands behind head, breasts elevated. Cold dribbles of water ran down her back from her tangled hair. The mesh was warm under her bare feet, the breeze cool on her damp body.
He walked around her slowly, his gaze warmer than the sun against her shoulders. “I prefer your nipples to be more colorful,” he said finally. “The water turned them blue.”
What kind of complaint was that?
He shook his head at her when she tried to say something. “Stay in position, sumisita.” He went into the salon and returned with the picnic basket and some cushions, which he tossed around the area. After rummaging in the basket, he pulled out…a packet of wooden skewers? Rubber bands? And a brown lunch sack.
What the heck?
He opened the packet, removing two of the skewers. She eyed them with a frown. They looked awfully pointy.
“You think they’re sharp?” he asked in a mild tone as he broke them in half, making them a few inches long. He lined up the pointed ends, wrapped his fingers around all four…and pressed them gently on her upper breast. “Are they sharp?” he asked, as if merely curious.
The sensation, just short of pain, took her breath. “Um. I guess.”
“Good.” He tapped them against her skin, lightly in a circle around her breasts, leaving marks like mouse prints behind. She stiffened at the tiny stinging—arousing—pains. Her nipples couldn’t get any tighter, and her clit poked out as if wanting attention as well.
Master R worked his way to the edge of her nipple, then ran his free hand between her legs. He slid his fingers easily through her wet folds and caressed her hard nub to urgency.
Her hips tilted forward as his middle finger penetrated her to the knuckle. Then the second knuckle.
“I think we’ll explore pain more today,” he said, his soft voice curling across her nerves. “You seem to be ready.”
Pain. Her pussy clenched, and his finger was right there to tell. Dammit. The thought of pain terrified her…and turned her on at the same time.
And he knew. The little sharp sticks worked in toward her left breast and back out, not quite touching the areola. Teasing her. She could feel her breasts growing heavier, more swollen. Aching.
He tapped the sharp, sharp points right on top of her nipple.
The sudden bite of pain sent carnal electricity ripping from her sensitive peak straight to her clit.
When she tried to step back, he pushed his finger deeper in her pussy in an intimate anchoring. The sticks moved to her other breast. Oh God, knowing how it felt increased her anticipation. Her left nipple still stung as he circled her right breast.
Her clit throbbed wildly, and when the points jabbed ever so lightly into her right nipple, she almost came.
But not quite. Her whole body flamed with need. She whimpered when he pulled back, leaving her empty inside.
His firm lips curved into a smile. “I love the sounds you make, cariño.” He kissed her sweetly, then tugged on one nipple, mercilessly pulling it into a point.
Sweet kisses. Mean fingers. Her brain spun.
He placed a skewer horizontally above and below the peak, pinching it between them. Her mouth dropped open as he put rubber bands on each end. Homemade nipple clamps.
Her nipple flattened as he increased the tension with the rubber bands, and the pain grew. “Mmm,” she protested, afraid to yell, “ow.”
“Breathe through the pain. One breath. Another.” He held her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Take the pain—for your master.”
For Master R. She sucked air in through her nose, her teeth gritted.
“Good gatita.” The tenderness in his voice increased her determination to endure.
The pain eased into a mild pinching sensation, but one that didn’t stop, keeping her constantly aware of the discomfort.
He did her other nipple the same way, watching her expectantly as her teeth ground together, before the bite let her catch her breath.
“Such a good sumisa.” Taking a step back, he surveyed his work. “Very nice. You may relax now.”
She put her hands down at her sides, hissing when the movement jostled her breasts.
“Hey, that’s a great look.” Cullen’s rough voice. He and Andrea had returned. His sub was stripped as bare as Kim. Andrea’s eyes went wide when she saw what Master R had done. She glanced warily at Cullen.
He grinned. “Those big nipples of yours will squash and look great.” As Andrea sputtered something in Spanish, he asked Raoul, “Got any more of them, buddy?”
Master R set the package and the bag of tiny rubber bands in Kim’s hands. “Take them to Master Cullen,” he said.
Kim crossed the trampoline and dropped the evil things into his big palm.
“Thanks, pet. Now go on back to Master Raoul.”
I’m not sure I want to. Kim eyed the water. Escape again? No, he’d catch her and probably be truly upset. With a sigh, she returned and knelt in front of Master R.
The trampoline vibrated as Marcus returned, followed by a dutiful-looking Gabi. He pointed to his feet, and Gabi went to her knees.
Kim exchanged a rueful glance with her friend, feeling how things had changed. When they’d visited BDSM clubs together, the scenes had been just erotic fun.
Today was more. Under Master R’s teasing, Kim heard a serious note, the undeniable will of a master. Perhaps this was the difference between a dom who didn’t really know her and one who knew exactly where her limits lay…and intended to push them.
Feeling herself sway with more than the movement of the boat, she met his contemplative gaze.
“Raoul.” Marcus was studying Kim’s breasts, laughter in his sharp blue eyes. “Might I ask if you happen to have anything else interesting?”
“If I’d known the submissives would become so unruly, I’d have brought my toy bag. But there are a few more pervertables in the picnic basket.”
Marcus patted Gabi’s head. “Well, we just see what I can find, won’t we, sugar?” He stepped around her and lifted the lid.
Kim bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Gabi’s eyes started to spark. Temper, temper, Gabrielle.
“Cullen, the man’s got rope.” Marcus tossed a handful of precut ropes and a pair of heavy scissors into the middle of the area and dug farther. “Ah, here we go.” He straightened, holding rubber bands and two plastic clamps, about three inches long with serrated edges.
Gabi’s eyes shot fire. “You are not putting those on me. You dumbass, those are for potato chip bags, not for breasts.”
“Hands behind your back.”
She looked at the set of his jaw, and her hands laced together behind her back.
“Very nice, sugar.”
With the first clamp, Gabi yelped, hissing as he wound a rubber band on the handle part to lessen the pressure.
Kim’s eyes narrowed when she realized the clamps had chunks chipped from the handles so the rubber bands wouldn’t slip. Master R had used them before, hadn’t he? She gave her master a scowl. Tricksy dom.
Grinning, he bent and whispered, “She’ll have a tantrum any minute now.”
Kim smothered a laugh. When staying with the couple, she’d heard some pretty creative insults. Gabi’s voice did carry a ways.
Marcus put the second clamp on, and Gabi made a sound like a teakettle.
Smiling, he held her upper arms, keeping her from moving. After minute, he asked, “Better?”
Gabi glared. “If you want to add some variety to your sex life, why don’t you just use your other hand?”
Marcus barked a laugh. Pushing her legs apart, he cupped her pussy, then held his glistening palm up to show her. “You seem to like this kind of variety, darlin’.” He smiled as she turned red and sputtered, obviously searching for an insult potent enough.
