Mastering Inga (Service & Submission Book 2) (14 page)

The sounds of tearing plastic and ripping paper behind her let her know that he’d purchased this for her. That fact somehow didn’t comfort her.

“I’m going to stretch you for this. You’ll feel cool lube back here. I’m using arousal gel to heighten your arousal. It has ginger oil in it. You’ll feel an intense burn, but the purpose is to increase your clitoral stimulation — and ginger does that perfectly.”

The cap popped open on the container, then a moment later, his cool, slick fingers touched her little hole, making her clench tight. “Uh-uh, relax your anus. If you’re a good girl, it won’t hurt. The choice is yours whether this is comfortable or not.”

He pushed his fingers slowly into her, easing in and out. Every time he exited, it felt like another finger had been added when he pushed back inside. “There we go. Your sphincter just relaxed. You’re ready now for the plug. I’m coating it with the ginger oil and lube. You’ll feel the burn from the ginger, it’ll have a distinct feeling. Have you ever been figged?”

“No, Master.”

“What kind of Dom did you have anyway? Figging and masturbation restriction are pretty common. I’m surprised. Okay. Here we go, girlie. Push back, push like you’re going to the bathroom. It’ll open up your puckered hole.” He eased forward slowly and she felt cool lube being squeezed onto her opening. “That’s a good girl. You’re doing such a good job.”

Then the burn kicked in. “Oh my Gud! What did you put up my asshole?”

“Watch your tone, girl! You’re in enough trouble as it is. Unclench your little rosebud.”

“Ditt dumma kukhuvud!
Jesus. It burns. Oh, Gud!” She tried reaching back to pull the plug out.

Garrett stopped pushing the plug in to swat the underside of her backside several times at the juncture where the bottom meets the thigh. “I can tell by the tone that what you said wasn’t appropriate. Tell me what you just said.”

“I-I don’t want t-to. You’ll be angry.”

“I’m already upset with you. This can’t make it worse. I know you called me names, I just want to know
what
you said so I can catalog it in my mind. Now, Inga.”

“I said, ‘you stupid dickhead’ but... I did it because it hurt. I didn’t think you—”

“You didn’t think I’d make you tell me is what you’ve been saying.” He slapped her bottom while holding the plug partially in her little hole. “Let’s continue. I’m adding oil and lube. It hurts. It’s supposed to hurt, but you’ll see very soon that your arousal will climb with that pain.”

Once the plug popped in, Inga let out a sigh of relief. Then a vibration began, a pulsing and roiling in her dark channel that increased gradually until she rocked on the arm of the chair, her pussy spasming in response to the anal vibrations and the heat of the ginger oil.

And just as quickly that vibration was turned down again.

“We’ll keep it at the lowest speed for now. Like I said, it’ll be a constant arousal in the background. C’mon let’s get you up. Bring the towel with you. We’re going to watch a movie now.”

He smiled at her, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her staring after him.

Is he kidding? How the fuck am I supposed to watch a movie with this thing vibrating in my asshole?

She didn’t want to add to her punishment though, so she followed him, walking with a wide, uncomfortable gait hoping she’d be able to adjust to the girth and vibrations of the plug deep inside her.

* * *

G
arrett turned the TV on just as Inga walked into the room naked, her long shapely legs slightly akimbo and walking rather stiffly, no doubt trying to accommodate the stout plug in her bottom. She looked absolutely adorable. As she passed him, he caught a profile view of her lush buttocks, flushing pink with his handprints. His cock jerked in response.

His slave. His Swedish slave with his handprints marking her.

“We’re going to watch the
Wolf of Wall Street.
This movie supposedly has the word ‘fuck’ used more times than any movie ever made.”

She raised her eyebrows, confused.

“Wait. Let me explain. So, the object of this punishment: I’m going to stimulate you just enough to get you close, and then we’ll stop and wait for the next time the word ‘fuck’ is said in the movie.”

He reached out, motioning for her to give him the towel. He folded it over twice, then laid it on the couch cushion. “Come sit down, Miss Inga.” Grabbing the remote, he hid a smile as he watched her gingerly sit on the towel. Between her sore bottom and the vibrating plug, sitting couldn’t have been easy for her. He pulled her toward him, tucking her against his side.

“Here we go. Are you excited? Of course you are.” She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips in an adorable pout. “Sorry about that. It’s not funny, is it?”

They weren’t two minutes into the movie before the first “fuck” was uttered.

“Okay, open your legs, Missy.” He put his fingers up into her pussy, shocked at how wet she already was. “Oh, Inga, you’re dripping, I’m glad I put this towel down.

His drenched finger made several swipes around her clit and through her labia. “Let’s count them. Won’t that be fun?” He dropped his voice into a thick eastern European accent. “One swipe, two swipes, three swipes! Ah. Ah. Ah!” He grinned at her, and she looked at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “Did you see what I did there? Just like The Count.”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she probably would’ve crossed her arms in a pout if she hadn’t been busy clutching the couch cushions in a death grip.

“Ten swipes. That’s enough and now we’ll explore your little pussy again and try to find that g-spot. Oh, oh — there it is. We’ll only do one swipe of that — we don’t want you to come. That’d be breaking the rules of the game.”

He pulled out of her, grabbing a wipe from a container on the coffee table. They continued this way for the next hour.

“Oh, look sweetie. He said ‘fuck.’ Come here, baby.”

Swipe, swipe, swipe.

By the time ninety minutes had passed, he reached down to swipe her again, but she moaned and began to cry. “I-I can’t do this anymore. I need to come,
please.
”

“Sorry, baby. I can’t do that. Do you think you’ll use your rubber duck again anytime soon?” He casually circled her clit while his finger pumped her pussy.

“N-n-n — ah ah — no I won’t. I p-pr — ah, oh god! I won’t. I promise.”

“Well, I think I might actually believe you. Do you think you want to come now?” Garrett lifted her chin, kissing her on the nose.

“Yes, Master. Yes please, Master!”

“Okay. Because you asked so nicely, this is what we’re going to do. C’mon get up. Oh, sweetie, your legs are shaking. Here let me help you.”

He walked her over to the bar stools. “Now I want you to sit down. At least these stools are leather. I can wash them after you’re done polishing them with your
fittsaft
. I want you to sit so your butt plug and most of your bottom is hanging off the back of the stool.”

She frowned, but she would’ve stood on her head in a pool of Jell-O at this point to have an orgasm. She sat down, sliding back until her buttocks hung off the stool. Garrett pressed his fingertips on the bottom of the plug and turned the vibration up at the same time. She shrieked, grabbing the edge of the counter top and leaned forward on the stool.

“Uh-uh, no leaning forward or closing your thighs. I want you to open your legs and put your feet on the second rung so your clit is exposed completely.”

Garrett swiveled her to face him, and her clit was red and extended from under the hood. Leaning over, he blew lightly on it reveling in the way it made her body shiver and convulse.

He took mercy on her though. “Okay. I won’t blow on it. Not too much at least.” He winked at her, swiveling her back to face the counter.

She growled low in her throat.

“I wouldn’t misbehave, slave. You’ll be sorry. You don’t want to antagonize the Master at this point, do you?”

He was beginning to think she wasn’t going to answer, then in a sweet voice she said, “No, Master. I don’t want to antagonize you.”

“I didn’t think so. Okay. Now, with your little hole filled and exposed back here, I’m going to play with your plug and change vibrations. While I’m playing with your butt hole, you’re going to be writing me a letter — well, a plea would be more accurate. You’re going to write me a letter, pleading that I give you permission to masturbate. If I give you permission, I’m going to watch you — closely.”

Garrett opened the kitchen drawer and gave her a pad of paper and a pen. “Don’t let me distract you, Missy. Write me the best letter you can write. I want you pleading and begging with everything you have.”

Chapter Twelve

D
ear Lord. How am I supposed to write a letter like this? I think I’m going to die. Can I die of this? Yes, the answer has to be yes.

Inga was so unsure of herself. She’d never been this off balance, unable to focus, or even think. She could
feel
though. That was it. She felt everything. Every breeze, touch, smell — she even swore she could taste her orgasm. Inside, she was shaking almost nonstop, though she managed to hide that from his keen, observing gaze. Despite all of that, despite her fear, and uncertainty, her pussy and clit still throbbed. She tried to calm herself with a deep breath, but she would do—

“Oh, God. N-nuuuuh!”

He’d turned up the vibrations, pushing and pulling the plug against her sphincter muscles, the vibrations making her pussy convulse and tighten in sympathy with her well-worked ass. Her womb clenched, making her hips thrust forward.

She dropped her pen and clung to the edge of the counter with her eyes closed. “Christ! Gar—Master! I can ‘t do this.” Her voice broke. She
felt
broken. She needed to come and she’d do just about anything to make that happen. She tilted her hips a little, rocking forward, trying to rub her clit on the seat.

“Oh sweetie, you’re crying. It’s awful to have someone take away an orgasm, isn’t it?” Garrett put his hands on her hips, stopping the rocking. ‘It’s so frustrating because you want it so bad. It’s yours. Your body. Your orgasm. It’s your body — you want it all to yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” she said with a sob, choking on her tears.

“Now you know how I felt. That orgasm belonged to me. I wanted it all to myself, when I wanted it.”

His forefinger tapped her clit. “This? This little button here?”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Each touch of his forefinger was as maddening as it was gentle.

“This little clitty is mine, and mine alone. It doesn’t even belong to you anymore. As a slave, you gave this to me. You asked me to be your Master. You said you wanted to do this — and part of being a slave is giving your precious orgasms to me. I want to watch you fall apart with your release. Watch you convulse and scream as you collapse into my arms, spent, sweaty, smelling of sex and sweet come.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He slid his finger into her pussy, gliding over her g-spot, insistently rubbing it until she shouted. “Oh, no! Oh! Oh, Jesus! Oh... Nooooo.”

He pulled his finger away, thwarting her orgasm again.

“It’s gone again. I can’t do this. Kill me, please.”

“Don’t say that —
ever.”
He slapped her hip twice. “You need to write your plea. Beg me as sweetly as you can for your orgasm, girlie. I’ll let you
knulla handen
. Now dry your tears, and be a good girl.”

Before he walked away, he twisted the plug in her bottom and turned the vibrations up again.

Focus, Inga! Just write this damn letter — plead so you can fucking orgasm!

Garrett went to the refrigerator to get her a glass of ice water. “Drink this, Inga. I don’t want you dehydrating. I’ll fix you some broth while you write.”

Though her fingers trembled terribly, she began writing.

Dear Master,

I’m very sorry for what I did. I stole your orgasm and for that I ask forgiveness. I promise I won’t Knulla Handen again. I promise. I’d like to ask — no, I’m begging — for permission to orgasm. I want to orgasm for your pleasure and delight. I’d like to give you the gift of my orgasm and fittsaft. May you receive pleasure from it and I’ll give you avsugning on my knees.

Please allow your slave to please you. Totally repentant and seeking absolution.

Inga~

Before she could let him know the letter was ready, he was behind her, tugging on the plug at the same time he pinched her clit. It wasn’t hard enough to make her orgasm — of course — but it was hard enough to make her womb clench. The two sensations were more than she could handle though, and her body began to shake.

Letting go of the plug in her rosebud, he held her by the thigh, keeping her open to him, stroking his fingers through her labia, lightly rubbing her clit. As he worked her, he pressed his erection against into her back, calming the trembling of her body by covering her, restraining her against him.