Mastered: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (37 page)

“You’re sublime,” Ben proclaimed, abandoning her lips and tracking his mouth down over her face, her neck, her shoulder, and down to her exposed breast. Then he sucked intensely on her nipple, flicking it with his tongue at the same time, and the shock and sensation of it almost made her come.

She let out a sharp cry when, just as suddenly as he’d besieged her breast, he let her go again and took a step away from her, creating distance.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he softly commanded, “Take off your dress.”

Trembling like a willow, she made to step out of her high heels, but he stopped her. “Oh no, keep the shoes on… I think you’ll look delicious in high heels and your pendant and nothing else.”

Unzipping the frock, Sarah peeled it off and draped it over a chair, acutely conscious of the heightened state of her nakedness. Her nipples were hard as stones and dark, oh so dark, and her upper thighs were already shiny with the flow of her arousal.

When Ben issued no further commands, she just stood there. Nude. Shaking. Aroused. Waiting. He walked around her, in a circle, perusing her.

“Exquisite…,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, then, when he was behind her, he drew something that jingled out of the pocket of his coat. A second later, he reached for one of her hands, then the other, and like a magician, shackled them together in the pair of handcuffs she’d seen earlier in the box.

A jolt of pure, clear, terrified excitement pelted through Sarah’s body, bouncing and rebounding off her every erogenous zone. He could do anything to her now, absolutely anything, and the idea of that made her arousal thicken and seep even more.

But then, while she was still reeling, he pulled a second item from his pocket.

And the impression of an illusionist was compounded even further when a black silk scarf appeared to unravel and unravel and unravel as if it were part of a trick. He held it by two corners as if she were the audience and he was showing it to her, then rolled it up and secured it around her head, covering her eyes.

In total blackness, she moaned, and not solely from desire. The reality of this game was so much more intense than any fantasy of it.

Again he circled around her, but this time she could only tell where he was from the faint sound of his steps on the thick carpet. What was he looking at? What was he planning? What was he going to do to her? She thought of some of the items she’d seen in the wicker toy box and her head went light.

And then she felt his breath on the back of her neck.

Oh God, she’d lost track of him and somehow not even sensed he was so close. How could that be, when everything about him obsessed her?

His fingertips settled on her flank as his lips touched the side of her throat. His hand brushed the side of hers where it was caught at the small of her back, then cruised on down to cup her buttock and squeeze it, assessing its weight much as he’d assessed her breast a minute or two ago.

He held her lightly, just under her chin, rubbing his bearded face in her hair while the tips of his fingers explored the rounds of her bottom, then slipped into the soft cleft between them.

He tickled and probed, toying with the sensitive rosette again and again. Sarah felt as if she was going to faint with lust, astonished lust, because she’d never really enjoyed this kind of play before. With a lesser man she’d be troubled by it, but with Ben, she embraced it and relished it, pushing her bottom toward the source of the stimulation.

“Do you like that?”

Already blushing, Sarah felt hot blood well in her face again. To admit that… that she liked it, oh, it was so embarrassing, even with him, the man she had really come to believe she could tell anything.

“Do you like it?” he persisted, not crossly but in infinitely teasing tones. He was so in tune with her, he clearly knew what such an admission would cost her, especially when he rubbed more firmly, pushing wickedly against the little entrance.

“Yes…”

“Tell me then… Say the words…”

Sarah whimpered in the darkness as he plagued her, flicking and teasing. He was the devil, yet at the same time a prince of love.

“I l…like it when you touch my bottom and stroke me there…”

“There?”

“Oh, Ben, I can’t!”

He laughed, highly amused, but somehow also kind. “Very well, my love… we’ll take that as read, shall we?” He paused, his fingertip resting right on the aperture. “But I think we should do something about that before I spank you, don’t you?”

Do what? Do what? Her mind ranged over his threats, his promises at the dining table, and she mewed with fear and longing. Ben seemed to take
that
as read because before she could form a coherent observation on the matter, he gently manhandled her until she was facedown on the coverlet, her bound hands resting at the small of her back. A few moments later, after some further rustling in the fearfully stocked toy box, he returned to where she lay and sat down beside her, placing the flat of his hand lightly on her thigh.

“Now, this may feel a little strange to you, my darling, but you mustn’t panic. Just stay calm and relax, and you’ll enjoy it more than you can possibly imagine.”

Sarah could imagine quite a lot, and she wasn’t completely convinced that what she was more or less certain lay ahead
was
actually enjoyable.

And how do you know? Have you tried it yourself?

The image flashed immediately into her mind, and she moaned aloud again at the way it made her sex flutter.

“Now… now… Don’t fuss,” instructed Ben, his voice almost merry somehow.

And well he might be amused
, thought Sarah a moment later, suppressing her groans as he began to slather the groove of her bottom with something cool and wet and very silky, a lubricant gel of some kind that he administered abundantly to the cleft between her cheeks.

Then it began, the slow, infernal pressure upon her arse as he pushed what she could only assume was one of the dildos or sex-plugs inside her.

It felt huge. Unforgiving. Unyielding. Her body resisted it, and Ben paused to apply more lubricant. Much more lubricant.

She keened and groaned, but he soothed her with his soft voice, murmuring sweet nothings, wordless encouragements, as if she were a naughty child being coaxed into taking her medicine.

And yet despite the shattering, dangerous sensations, her arousal began to rise and rise and rise, all wound around the ancient and mortifying subconscious guilt that she shouldn’t be enjoying anything to do with that part of her body.

The little aperture was stubborn, but in a different strategy, Ben reached around under her and began to caress her as he pushed firmly on the plug.

“Oh no, no, no…” She moaned as her sphincter yielded and the toy slid inside.

If the sensations had been mortifying and perilous before, they were a thousand times worse now, dreadful messages streaking along her nerves, telling her brain the most awful things. But even as they did, Ben intensified the gentle, teasing strokes against her center, and almost before she knew it the messages changed, melted, and flowered, and she cried out loudly in a light and sudden orgasm.

Sarah writhed against the coverlet, squishing Ben’s caressing hand beneath her. She couldn’t believe that she was climaxing, and most of all it was mainly because her bottom was stuffed and plugged.

“Oh please… oh please…” She crooned, not really having any idea what she was asking for.

Did she want him to remove the plug?

No…

Did she want him to stroke her even more?

Yes, certainly… sort of.

Did she want something else?

Her mind skittered away from the options, even while it presented them. And one, she could barely conceive how she was going to endure it or why she wanted it.

“You must pay for that, my dearest,” whispered Ben, leaning over her back, and Sarah sobbed, knowing he comprehended her utterly. “Do you understand?”

She made a sound, some kind of affirmation, although she wasn’t sure it was anything that had ever been part of the English language.

“You are magnificent,” he answered, his voice strangely rough, then he stepped away and there was silence for a moment.

What are you doing? What are you doing?

He was looking for something, casting around. Then, with a small sound of satisfaction, he found it, obviously. “Be brave. Be strong.”

She wasn’t sure she could be either, but she could endure, for his pleasure, and in a dark and twisted way, her own.

Then he smacked her bottom again, and she shrieked, both in pain and surprise.

Her mind went blank, white, and numbed. Then after a gap of a few seconds, it started working, processing the fiery pain in her right buttock and trying to work out what had created it.

She got no further than that before he struck her other bottom cheek. And she shrieked again, this time attempting to muffle the weak and pathetic sounds in the bed covers.

“It’s all right to cry out, my darling,” he said, placing his hand flat on one of the hot places for a moment and stirring the fire there.

Sarah made an incoherent sound and ground her crotch against the mattress, seeking ease for her astonishing and impossible arousal. Her bottom was flaming and yet her pussy ached for contact.

He smacked her more and more, settling into a slow, lazy rhythm. The impact of the blows was unimaginable, and yet somehow bizarrely soothing despite the growing craving in her sex.

And in a peculiar moment of clarity, it dawned on her what the wicked device was.

He was spanking her with his leather-soled bedroom slipper. One of the ones she’d seen lined up neatly by the bed.

“Oh please… oh please…” She began to plead again, against all reason begging for more of his disciplinary attentions as much as she was begging for ease of the burning itch of her desire.

As she moaned, he finally set aside his slipper.

“What do you want, Sarah?” he asked again, his breath gratifyingly coming in gasps. He was affected by her, as moved and roused and stirred as she was, in his own way. Despite her pain she smiled, anticipating her victory and his loss of control.

“I want you in me!” she growled at him, writhing again, sinuous against the bedspread, taunting him with her rosy, fiery bottom.

“Where?” he demanded hoarsely, then pressed his fingertips to the base of the fat plug in her bottom. “Here?”

“Yes! Oh God!” She gasped as he rocked the wicked thing. “Anywhere! Wherever you want! Just do it!”

“Very well… very well…” He panted, unhanding her for a moment.

She could hear rustlings, small preparations, his breathing. Then, shockingly, he pulled out the plug. Her insides rioted a little, but he soothed her with more gentle fondling. Within seconds she was moaning for a different reason, almost coming.

When she was starting to rise again, he slathered her backside once more with the silky lubricant. Lots of it. Then, after a moment’s more rustling and the slick sounds of a condom being rolled on, he was at her rear entrance, pushing, pushing, as he’d done originally with the inert rubber intruder.

This time it was easier. This time the yielding was sweeter than sweet.

After a moment’s effort, he was lodged inside her, draped over her back, murmuring love into her ear.

His thrusts were measured and shallow, yet the pleasure was deep, achingly deep.

Within seconds she was moaning again, whining like an animal, lost in a perverse and delicious ecstasy like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Soaring higher, she shrieked and writhed when he touched her core.

Her orgasm triggered him. Everything was crazy. Ben was as mad and wild and lost to the world as she was.

The only sane thing was the words he groaned and gasped. “I love you… I love you… My darling, I love you.”

She answered him the same, because it was true.

Chapter Four

A long while later, they lay in each other’s arms, in the bed now.

Slippers, sex toys, lubricants, handcuffs, and blindfolds were all abandoned now. Not forgotten, but set aside in favor of the simplicity of freshly bathed bodies, cuddled close and fond and happy in the low, gilded lamplight.

Is this heaven? It certainly feels as if it might be.

Sarah breathed in, loving the fresh yet spicy smell of Ben’s cologne and the feel of his warm, clean skin where he was lying against her back, spooned along the length of her. They were both naked, yet the contact was peculiarly innocent. His penis was soft where it pressed against the heat that lingered in her bottom.

She no longer hurt because, she realized, he was the most skilled of disciplinarians. There was just a warm glow left to remind her of the breathtaking tumult of their strange communion. She almost wished it was hotter. That it would last longer. That it was permanent.

If she had some sign of what had passed between them that would always be with her, it would be a talisman to cling to whenever they parted.

The idea of that made her gasp with a pain far more agonizing than anything that could be inflicted by hand or by leather.

“What’s wrong, my darling?” Ben whispered in her ear, his arm tightening a little around her middle. Possessively? “Did I hurt you too much? I’m sorry if I did… I become lost in the moment… and with you, more lost than ever before. But I didn’t mean to truly harm you.”

“It’s all right, Ben.” She closed her hand over his, remembering its strength and implacability, and the sweet kindness and generous pleasure it bestowed too. “I feel wonderful, actually… thanks to you.”

They lay in silence, but she could almost taste his thoughts and measure the sudden tension that had sprung up in him. What was wrong?

She opened her mouth to ask him, to ask what she could do to resolve whatever was bothering him. But before she could utter a word, he spoke again.

“I love you.”

Where there had been relaxation, now there was whirling agitation. Almost euphoria. She’d known he cared for her and desired her and, even apart from the sex, enjoyed her company. Men often made wild, exaggerated claims about love when they were coming that proved to be nonsense in quieter, cooler times, so she’d not dared to make too much of his orgasmic cries. But Ben was so different to the men she’d cared for before, in every possible way. Could it be that he’d spoken the truth, even while coming? Despite their happiness together, she’d never been quite sure that she was special enough for him. At least she hadn’t thought so until this weekend… Now she knew she was. That she was a match for him. Completely.