To Command and Collar
Page 47
His smile grew. “Now you get a new toy as well.” He pulled the hidden thing out of the bag. Soft-looking and the size of a couple of fingers and thumb forming a C curve. “I don’t think you need lube for this.” He pushed one end of the C into her slick pussy and angled the other part over her clit, letting it rest there. Not doing anything, dammit, but with that monster anal plug, even the small part inside her seemed excessively tight. Too much.
Her heart rate increased as her body shivered with the sensation of being tied down. Penetrated. With a whimper she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Waves splashed on the boat, the sound of a distant motor mingled with the pants of one of the other women and the low growl of a man’s voice. The sun shone down on her, heating her skin to almost the temperature she was inside.
Pulling on the restraints, she found no give and could feel the last remnants of control slipping away. Helpless. Vulnerable. She opened her eyes and looked up.
He stood beside her, watching her squirm and fight, his silent regard reinforcing his obvious determination that she be open to him emotionally as well as physically. That she surrender.
Under the power of his gaze, his authority, she felt her muscles go limp. And she gave up.
His eyes warmed with approval. “Sumisita mía,” he said softly. Down on one knee, he ran his knuckles tenderly over her cheek.
She turned her head and kissed his fingers, the action just so…right.
So was his kiss that followed.
After a minute, he sat back, and his expression changed. Heat. Anticipation. “I like that position. You look like a pagan sacrifice, all stretched out, just waiting to be served up to a god.”
Sacrifice didn’t sound good. “Master R.” She’d attempted a teacher’s stern tone, but her voice sounded more like a nervous first-grader who’d wet her pants. What could he be planning? He didn’t have any whips or floggers aboard, and no toys were left in the sack.
His expression had a little of the sternness she’d seen when she messed up. He was definitely aroused—his erection still tented the front of his shorts. And his eyes held amusement. That worried her the most.
She licked her lips, tasting him.
He straddled her hips, keeping all his weight on his knees. Softly, he ran his fingers down the insides of her arms, over her armpits, which made her jump, and down her ribs. His touch was light, almost too light. Back up.
Her skin grew more sensitive. He stopped below her armpits, stroking higher, and…it tickled. She tried to shift away, but he had her strung to immobility. He teased his fingers under her arms.
Giggles broke from her, and she squirmed. “Stop it. That tickles!”
His smile was white against his tanned skin. “Cariño, I know.” He did it again, making her laugh uncontrollably, not stopping even when she started to curse.
“Damn you,” she gasped when he sat back. “Stop it. I don’t like that.”
“I said you’d be punished, mi pequeña sumisa. Did you think I was joking?”
“But not this way.” Good God. “I’d rather be spanked.”
He grinned and said softly, “I know.”
She glared at him. “Are you done?”
“Oh no. I’m still exploring.”
She moaned.
“But I’m going to mix some sensations together to see how you do.” He reached down to the part of the toy that lay over her clit and clicked something. A buzz started both inside her and over her clit. Too light, too slow to do much, but…distracting. Just enough vibration to frustrate her, as if she were riding a Harley, but not enough to get her off.
Master R watched, his hand rubbing her arm, letting her need grow. Letting her stew. “Take a breath, chiquita. You’re not quite through being punished”—he grinned—“although you’re sweating enough, yes?”
God, sweat trickled between her breasts and down her face. “Please stop now.” Her hips wiggled uncontrollably.
“Ah, but I like watching you squirm. And laugh. You don’t laugh enough.” He clicked the vibrator through several cycles, settling on an odd erratic rhythm, fast, then slow. Bringing her close to orgasm, then retreating too soon. Driving her up. God, he’s going to kill me.
He moved between her legs, his knees pressing on the insides of her thighs. As the vibrations increased and she stiffened with the approaching climax, his fingers brushed down the insides of her forearms again to the tender area under her arms, teasing her with feathery touches. She gasped, jerking helplessly. Laughing, then moaning, then laughing as his fingers grazed over the increasingly sensitized skin.
He eased off, his fingers moving just enough to keep her aware, to keep her whole body tensed as the vibrator ruthlessly brought her back the brink.
Oh God, I need to come. Her lower half coiled, the feeling strangely intense. With the humming on her G-spot from inside, the flickering over her clit from outside, the entire area of nerves between them tightened. The pressure inside her built higher…higher…
Everything clenched for a long, impossible second, and she exploded. God, God, God. Even as she bucked under the climax, Master R drew his fingernails lightly over her ribs. She arched as new sensations blasted through her, making her laugh, making her scream, sending the entire world into a blaze of sensation, buffeting her between pleasure and torture and more pleasure.
She shuddered to a halt finally, slowly realizing he’d stopped tickling and even removed the vibrator. Grinning, he nuzzled her cheek.
“You bastard,” she gasped.
“No, Mamá insists I am born of a marriage,” he protested and claimed a hot, wet kiss, pulling her under his spell again.
Okay, she hated him, but she loved him, even if he was a sadistic scumbag asshole.
Sitting back, he ran his hands over her thighs, stroking gently, making her feel cherished and beautiful, even as shudders still ran through her body.
“You know, buddy,” Cullen said a minute later. “I’ve never seen a tickling session quite so hot. I’m not sure it was much of a punishment, but damn.” He eyed Andrea speculatively.
She shook her head frantically. “No. Absolutely no. I hate being tickled. Don’t you even think about it.”
Master R whispered in Kim’s ear, “There’s a lesson for you. That is never a smart thing to say to your dom.”
Kim choked on a laugh. From the half leer on Cullen’s face, he’d just hopped onboard with the tickling idea. He’d already had Andrea’s hands bound in front of her, and now he hefted her to her feet. Turning her toward the ocean, he lashed her hands to the railing, forcing her to bend at the waist, and roped her ankles widely apart to the uprights.
“No, Cullen. Please, no, Señor.”
“I don’t have a vibrator, but we’ll manage, little tiger.” His laugh rang out, and he stepped out of his shorts, completely comfortable being stark naked. “Toss me that lube, Raoul.” He caught the lube and drizzled some between his sub’s buttocks and more on his very erect cock.
“Oh, God, you wouldn’t,” Andrea gasped.
He contemplated the body stretched out before him, then frowned. “I need to heat you up first, right?” His fingers teased from her armpits down to her clit and back up.
Once he had Andrea cursing and laughing and wiggling uncontrollably, he worked his cock into her anus, a little at first, then pushing all the way in. She groaned and groaned again as he started to thrust. His hand disappeared around her front, and from the way Andrea moaned, he was playing with her clit.
“That sounds pretty good, love.” Cullen wrapped his free arm under her stomach, stabilizing them both, and changed from her clit to tickling under her arms. Giggles and groans filled the air.
God, if they did this in town, Kim thought, the cops would be pounding down the door.
Andrea was begging and cursing, mostly in Spanish.
Kim smiled. Here was someone she could ask to translate Master R’s swearwords.
From the sound of rhythmic thumping on the side of the sailboat, Marcus had taken Gabi back into the water and was enjoying himself. A string of insults was abruptly cut off, and then a minute later, Gabi sputtered. A very calm Southern voice said, “Sugar, you’re fixin’ to drown if you keep that up. Now suck.”
God, these doms. Kim shook her head and looked up. Master R’s expression was tender as he ran his finger over her lips. “You’re still smiling, mi tesoro,” he murmured. “I like seeing you happy.” He kissed her gently, lingeringly, in a way that had her heart turning over.
“I think these have been on long enough, so off they come.” He leaned over and snagged the scissors from the deck.
These?
When his fingers touched her left breast, she realized. The clamps. Oh no. He snipped through the rubber bands. As the wooden skewers fell away, blood surged back into her left nipple.
She gritted her teeth together as fire bloomed in her breast, and only a whimper escaped, changing to a high whine when Master R’s tongue stroked over the throbbing peak. The pain grew worse, then turned erotic as he continued to lick circles around the nipple and blow on it.
Her clit started to throb in response, and then Master R undid the other clamp.
“Ow ow ow, dammit, ow.”
Her heart rate increased as her body shivered with the sensation of being tied down. Penetrated. With a whimper she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Waves splashed on the boat, the sound of a distant motor mingled with the pants of one of the other women and the low growl of a man’s voice. The sun shone down on her, heating her skin to almost the temperature she was inside.
Pulling on the restraints, she found no give and could feel the last remnants of control slipping away. Helpless. Vulnerable. She opened her eyes and looked up.
He stood beside her, watching her squirm and fight, his silent regard reinforcing his obvious determination that she be open to him emotionally as well as physically. That she surrender.
Under the power of his gaze, his authority, she felt her muscles go limp. And she gave up.
His eyes warmed with approval. “Sumisita mía,” he said softly. Down on one knee, he ran his knuckles tenderly over her cheek.
She turned her head and kissed his fingers, the action just so…right.
So was his kiss that followed.
After a minute, he sat back, and his expression changed. Heat. Anticipation. “I like that position. You look like a pagan sacrifice, all stretched out, just waiting to be served up to a god.”
Sacrifice didn’t sound good. “Master R.” She’d attempted a teacher’s stern tone, but her voice sounded more like a nervous first-grader who’d wet her pants. What could he be planning? He didn’t have any whips or floggers aboard, and no toys were left in the sack.
His expression had a little of the sternness she’d seen when she messed up. He was definitely aroused—his erection still tented the front of his shorts. And his eyes held amusement. That worried her the most.
She licked her lips, tasting him.
He straddled her hips, keeping all his weight on his knees. Softly, he ran his fingers down the insides of her arms, over her armpits, which made her jump, and down her ribs. His touch was light, almost too light. Back up.
Her skin grew more sensitive. He stopped below her armpits, stroking higher, and…it tickled. She tried to shift away, but he had her strung to immobility. He teased his fingers under her arms.
Giggles broke from her, and she squirmed. “Stop it. That tickles!”
His smile was white against his tanned skin. “Cariño, I know.” He did it again, making her laugh uncontrollably, not stopping even when she started to curse.
“Damn you,” she gasped when he sat back. “Stop it. I don’t like that.”
“I said you’d be punished, mi pequeña sumisa. Did you think I was joking?”
“But not this way.” Good God. “I’d rather be spanked.”
He grinned and said softly, “I know.”
She glared at him. “Are you done?”
“Oh no. I’m still exploring.”
She moaned.
“But I’m going to mix some sensations together to see how you do.” He reached down to the part of the toy that lay over her clit and clicked something. A buzz started both inside her and over her clit. Too light, too slow to do much, but…distracting. Just enough vibration to frustrate her, as if she were riding a Harley, but not enough to get her off.
Master R watched, his hand rubbing her arm, letting her need grow. Letting her stew. “Take a breath, chiquita. You’re not quite through being punished”—he grinned—“although you’re sweating enough, yes?”
God, sweat trickled between her breasts and down her face. “Please stop now.” Her hips wiggled uncontrollably.
“Ah, but I like watching you squirm. And laugh. You don’t laugh enough.” He clicked the vibrator through several cycles, settling on an odd erratic rhythm, fast, then slow. Bringing her close to orgasm, then retreating too soon. Driving her up. God, he’s going to kill me.
He moved between her legs, his knees pressing on the insides of her thighs. As the vibrations increased and she stiffened with the approaching climax, his fingers brushed down the insides of her forearms again to the tender area under her arms, teasing her with feathery touches. She gasped, jerking helplessly. Laughing, then moaning, then laughing as his fingers grazed over the increasingly sensitized skin.
He eased off, his fingers moving just enough to keep her aware, to keep her whole body tensed as the vibrator ruthlessly brought her back the brink.
Oh God, I need to come. Her lower half coiled, the feeling strangely intense. With the humming on her G-spot from inside, the flickering over her clit from outside, the entire area of nerves between them tightened. The pressure inside her built higher…higher…
Everything clenched for a long, impossible second, and she exploded. God, God, God. Even as she bucked under the climax, Master R drew his fingernails lightly over her ribs. She arched as new sensations blasted through her, making her laugh, making her scream, sending the entire world into a blaze of sensation, buffeting her between pleasure and torture and more pleasure.
She shuddered to a halt finally, slowly realizing he’d stopped tickling and even removed the vibrator. Grinning, he nuzzled her cheek.
“You bastard,” she gasped.
“No, Mamá insists I am born of a marriage,” he protested and claimed a hot, wet kiss, pulling her under his spell again.
Okay, she hated him, but she loved him, even if he was a sadistic scumbag asshole.
Sitting back, he ran his hands over her thighs, stroking gently, making her feel cherished and beautiful, even as shudders still ran through her body.
“You know, buddy,” Cullen said a minute later. “I’ve never seen a tickling session quite so hot. I’m not sure it was much of a punishment, but damn.” He eyed Andrea speculatively.
She shook her head frantically. “No. Absolutely no. I hate being tickled. Don’t you even think about it.”
Master R whispered in Kim’s ear, “There’s a lesson for you. That is never a smart thing to say to your dom.”
Kim choked on a laugh. From the half leer on Cullen’s face, he’d just hopped onboard with the tickling idea. He’d already had Andrea’s hands bound in front of her, and now he hefted her to her feet. Turning her toward the ocean, he lashed her hands to the railing, forcing her to bend at the waist, and roped her ankles widely apart to the uprights.
“No, Cullen. Please, no, Señor.”
“I don’t have a vibrator, but we’ll manage, little tiger.” His laugh rang out, and he stepped out of his shorts, completely comfortable being stark naked. “Toss me that lube, Raoul.” He caught the lube and drizzled some between his sub’s buttocks and more on his very erect cock.
“Oh, God, you wouldn’t,” Andrea gasped.
He contemplated the body stretched out before him, then frowned. “I need to heat you up first, right?” His fingers teased from her armpits down to her clit and back up.
Once he had Andrea cursing and laughing and wiggling uncontrollably, he worked his cock into her anus, a little at first, then pushing all the way in. She groaned and groaned again as he started to thrust. His hand disappeared around her front, and from the way Andrea moaned, he was playing with her clit.
“That sounds pretty good, love.” Cullen wrapped his free arm under her stomach, stabilizing them both, and changed from her clit to tickling under her arms. Giggles and groans filled the air.
God, if they did this in town, Kim thought, the cops would be pounding down the door.
Andrea was begging and cursing, mostly in Spanish.
Kim smiled. Here was someone she could ask to translate Master R’s swearwords.
From the sound of rhythmic thumping on the side of the sailboat, Marcus had taken Gabi back into the water and was enjoying himself. A string of insults was abruptly cut off, and then a minute later, Gabi sputtered. A very calm Southern voice said, “Sugar, you’re fixin’ to drown if you keep that up. Now suck.”
God, these doms. Kim shook her head and looked up. Master R’s expression was tender as he ran his finger over her lips. “You’re still smiling, mi tesoro,” he murmured. “I like seeing you happy.” He kissed her gently, lingeringly, in a way that had her heart turning over.
“I think these have been on long enough, so off they come.” He leaned over and snagged the scissors from the deck.
These?
When his fingers touched her left breast, she realized. The clamps. Oh no. He snipped through the rubber bands. As the wooden skewers fell away, blood surged back into her left nipple.
She gritted her teeth together as fire bloomed in her breast, and only a whimper escaped, changing to a high whine when Master R’s tongue stroked over the throbbing peak. The pain grew worse, then turned erotic as he continued to lick circles around the nipple and blow on it.
Her clit started to throb in response, and then Master R undid the other clamp.
“Ow ow ow, dammit, ow.”
