Bared to Him (5 page)

His dick had been hard since he’d pulled her across his lap and seen her exposed bottom. She drew his finger in deeper, and sucked. Hard. Jesus. He couldn’t wait for her to do that to his cock.

He squeezed her jaw with his free hand, making her release him. He needed to be focused and in control. He wouldn’t get distracted until he’d pleased her.

“May I ask a question, Sir?”

“You may.” He dropped his hand, realising he needed to put some distance between them.

“In the reading I’ve done…”

“Go on.”

“Getting to suck a Dom’s cock is an honour. I saw some subs refer to cock worship.”

Her blue eyes were wide, guileless, innocent. He couldn’t believe he was the one fortunate enough to introduce her to everything she’d been missing. She leaned slightly towards him, her body an open invitation.

It was tempting to accept her offering, but then he’d reinforce the message that she was in control. Instead, he schooled his libido and dispassionately unclipped her leash.

“Can I see you naked, Sir?”

Her question surprised and delighted him. “This evening is about you, sub.”

“And I want to see your body. I’d like to be able to touch you, if I may.”

He moved away from her, picking up his bag as he went. He placed both items on the counter, and he kept his back to her for a few moments so she didn’t see him grip the edge.

“Teach me, Sir. Teach me to worship your cock the way you’d like.”

He hadn’t planned on much more with her than tonight’s introduction to submission. He’d even entertained a vague thought of introducing her to some other Doms at the club. As they’d walked to the playroom, however, he’d ignored every opportunity to do just that. He wanted to keep her for himself.

He faced her. He hadn’t suspected this side of her existed. There was a seductive husk in her voice. She might be new to the scene, but she was a natural. She didn’t just have a passing interest in BDSM, she had a thirst for it. How could he pass up the opportunity to invite her into his world? He wanted her on her knees, one hand palming his balls, her other wrapped around his shaft. He’d cradle her head so he could dictate how deep she took him.

Keeping the boundaries firm, he told her, “I’ll have you naked first, girl. As you said, your Dom’s cock is a privilege. I expect you to earn it.” Judging by the way she’d so eagerly drawn his finger into her mouth, the pleasure would be his. “You can remove your blouse and skirt, or I can do it for you. Your choice, Myka.”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “There is no wrong answer.”

“I’ll…” She looked around before returning her gaze to his face. “I’ll do it myself, Sir.”

Earlier she’d opened two buttons, so there were only a few remaining. He folded his arms across his chest and watched.

She took her time removing the blouse. For a moment she held the silk with a fingertip, then dropped the garment to the floor.
Tease.
He’d consider punishing that behaviour if he didn’t like the way her movements aroused him and how comfortable she was with her sexuality. It would make the exploration of her all the more rewarding.

She reached behind her and unzipped the skirt. Since it was so tight, she drew it up over her head instead of down her legs. He very much appreciated the sinuous moves of her body as she bared herself to his gaze. Seconds later, her skirt lay on top of her blouse.

“Stay still,” he instructed. “I want to look at you.” He leant back against the counter. As promised, her bra was sheer and lacy, leaving little to the imagination. He saw that her nipples were tight little buds—perfect for his clamps. The thong covered her pubic mound, and, for the moment, he didn’t object. He’d expose all her secrets in time.

The ridiculously high heels turned him on. He knew they were impractical, but he was man enough not to care. She wasn’t a short woman, and the stilettos made her legs look longer. The sharp angle of the shoes exposed her shapely calf muscles. Silky stockings added to the compelling picture. He’d already seen the garters stretched over her derrière, black fabric appearing stark against creamy white skin.

She was the stuff of fantasies. If he were alone, he’d jack off. He noticed that her shoulders trembled slightly. This was more difficult for her than she’d revealed. He admired her bravery in seeking out what she wanted to experience. “Turn around.”

She did.

“Good.” Her hair flowed over her shoulders. And for the first time he noticed—really noticed—the small of a woman’s back. He pictured her back arching as she dug her feet into the floor and lifted her hips for his punishment. “Now face me and remove your thong.”

Without question, she did so. He took great delight in watching her trying to balance as she took off the scrap of fabric. The gentleman in him demanded he offer assistance. The Dom in him wanted to unashamedly enjoy the show. The Dom won.

She lifted one foot, then the other as she stepped out of the thong. She left that on the floor, as well. Although he hadn’t issued any instructions about personal grooming, she’d chosen to shave her cunt bare. “Beautiful,” he said. “How long did you struggle with that decision?”

“I didn’t, Sir. It seemed to be an obvious choice.”

“Now the bra.”

She kept her gaze on him while she unfastened the hooks. She pulled down the bra slowly, revealing her skin a little at a time. The bra might not have hidden much, but he was delighted by the sight of her small breasts with pink areolae and pebble-hard nipples. “You please me greatly, girl.”

She dropped the bra on top of the growing pile of discarded clothing. “I’m glad, Sir.”

“Turn around. I want to see you from the back.” When she did, he said, “Spread your legs wide. Wider.” He heard her moan a bit. “Now bend over, grab your ankles.”

She did.

“There’s nothing prettier,” he said. Her hair tumbled towards the floor. Even from the distance, he could see moisture glisten on her pussy. She was turned on, before he’d even touched her. Maybe it was from the spanking, but he doubted it. That had been a punishment, and they’d shared a small emotional ordeal afterwards. But later, oh, yeah, she’d be aroused from his hand and his whip. “Now, still in position, reach back and spread your ass cheeks.”

It took her some time, and she lost her balance once, but she managed it. Earlier she’d told him she was an anal virgin, but she wouldn’t be for much longer. He might not have his cock up there tonight, but he certainly intended to explore her.

He left her in position while he arranged the contents of his bag on the counter. He placed a bottle of lube next to his selection of butt plugs. He shook out his floggers and lined them up by the thickness of the strands. Then he laid out his nipple clamps, from nicest to most fierce.

The club provided hand towels and a few other accessories in the cupboards below the counter. He took out a small pile of washcloths and placed them next to the sink.

He was aware of her tiny movements as she fought off fatigue, the twinges of muscle cramps, and, likely, her internal thoughts. With experience, this would be easier. “Some subs practice yoga or do a bit of stretching,” he told her without glancing her way. “There’s nothing more appealing than a woman who can be still for her Dom.” She might resent him comparing her to other submissives, or she might take his statement as a challenge and learn to school her body and her mind.

“Yes, Sir.”

The mental part of BDSM was the first thing that intrigued him. For a sub, turning oneself over to a Dom had to be a leap of trust. For a Dom, exploiting not just the physical, but the emotional dynamic was a heavy burden. He wanted to push her right to the brink, but not over it.

A few moments later, she began to fidget again. “I know you’re uncomfortable and you’re feeling ignored, girl, but I like it when you suffer for me.” As he planned her pleasure, he realised her thoughts were in turmoil. She might be wondering how much she could move without incurring his wrath. Just how good did she have to be? And there was probably a fair amount of curiosity about what he was doing at the counter, how much longer she’d have to wait, and what he intended to do next. Trepidation likely factored into the mix. “Are you nervous, sub?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“You’ve a right to be.”

Nothing could have prepared her for the reality of being with Sir Phillip. In her fantasies, things progressed much faster. She should have known better. He’d sent her links about BDSM that were all about the mindfuck that went on in a scene. For submissives in general, and her in particular, it seemed, harnessing her thoughts would make for a richer experience. But she’d chosen the financial world as a profession, and kickboxing and snowboarding as her physical outlets. Meditation and yoga were for others. Right now she wished her skillset were a little broader.

It seemed he’d had her in this position forever. Blood pounded in her head. Her legs hurt, and she felt some embarrassment at keeping her buttocks parted so that her anus was exposed. Damn it, though, she was aroused. As much as she hated parts of this, she also liked it.

“Tell me your safe word.”

How many times did they have to do this? “Snowboard, Sir.” From her upside-down position, she could see he had faced her. He held a bottle of lube.

“Ask me to put a finger up your ass.”

Involuntarily she clenched her buttocks. It took all her self-restraint to stay in position. She’d figured they’d start with something she liked and then maybe work up to this. He wanted to start with pushing a soft limit? Her thoughts spiralled.

“Breathe, sub.”

He moved closer to her and stroked her with his free hand. She surrendered to the sensations, relaxing under his expert touch. As he continued, her muscles felt more supple.

“Ask for it,” he prompted.

Her pussy got wetter as she responded to his gentleness. This man was a master at understanding her.

“I have little patience for prevarication,” he snapped. He removed his hand. “Safe word or say it.”

“Please, Sir, put your finger up my ass.” She was aware of him spreading lube on a finger. He placed the bottle on the floor near her right ankle.

“Try to relax.”

Easy for him to say. She felt the insistence of his fingertip against her tightest hole.

“Bear down. Keep your buttocks spread.”

He gently fucked her with his finger, penetrating a bit deeper each time. It took him less than a minute to be seated deep inside her.

The sensations overwhelmed her. It felt…amazing. She’d been making a fuss over this? It was hot, sexy. Without thinking, she moved her hips a bit.

“Ask me to stretch you and put another finger inside.”

That sounded like too much, but she went with it, trusting him. “Please, Sir. I want you to stretch me out. I want…”

“You like it, sub?”

“Very much, Sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

With his words of approval, spoken in that husky baritone, all thoughts of discomfort vanished.

She froze at the intrusion of the second finger. Being stretched a little wider felt significantly different. It hurt more. She gritted her teeth.

“Breathe. Bear down. Cease your fight.”

He slapped the outside of her left thigh. The blunt pain stole her attention, and he used the opportunity to push both fingers all the way in and to spread them apart to stretch her opening. “Wow.”

“Sub?”

“Wow, Sir. It feels…” The pleasure was much greater than it had been earlier. Once she got past the struggle, the reward was worth it. “God.”

He chuckled and slowly removed his fingers.

“Damn. I wanted—”

“I’ll make sure you’re satisfied, girl,” he promised. Then, in his sterner voice, he said, “I expect your constant gratitude, not your curses because you didn’t get your own way.”

“Sorry, Sir,” she said, instantly and contritely.

“You won’t be punished for that. This time.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re a quick study.”

Since he hadn’t given any further directions, she remained in the uncomfortable, upside-down position while he crossed to the counter.

All too soon, he returned, carrying a butt plug. She was tempted to stand, but she remained in place.