Plaything: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 4 (3 page)

“Do I need a…a safe word?” she asked.

He pressed a finger to her lips. “A simple ‘stop’ is all that will be necessary.”

Then he moved away. His voice was louder then as he said, “You need to remember from now on to keep your mouth closed unless you’re commanded to open it. Most likely for something other than speaking.” He didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t hear him move away.

She felt so alone in the quiet darkness. “What do I do now?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Now you wait for your Master.”

Chapter Two

She heard his footsteps move away from her and then the door opened. And then it closed with a quiet click. She was left alone, tied to a chair in the middle of a playroom, offering her body for someone else’s enjoyment.

And hopefully her own.

This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? An anonymous, erotic encounter. A one-time experience with bondage. She was there to live out her deepest fantasy. It didn’t matter with whom.

At least it hadn’t before.

She pushed the image of deep blue eyes and dark wavy hair out of her mind and concentrated on the sensations of the moment. She was tied tight, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least not yet. She felt vulnerable, helpless. And so aroused she could feel moisture trickling from her core.

The air felt different now, softer, almost like the drag of fingers over her skin. She could barely hear the soft music over the blood pulsing though her veins. Her nipples beaded with anticipation. Her heart skipped in her chest. Her pussy clenched.

And she waited. And waited.

She discovered she didn’t like to wait.

She was used to taking matters into her own hands, whether it was a decorating job or her own satisfaction. But to wait for the unknown. To anticipate the best. To agonize about the worst. She didn’t like it one bit.

There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it, and perhaps that was the lesson she was supposed to learn.
Let go. Don’t worry. Wait and see.
Everything was out of her control anyway.

She was here to be someone’s plaything. Someone who would be coming to this room to play out his fantasy as well. She had to remember that.

As she sat there and waited, her heartbeat slowed to something close to normal. She relaxed into the chair and closed her eyes.
Let go. Don’t worry. Wait and see.
The words repeated in her head. She might have even dozed off in the darkness that surrounded her.

Then she heard the click of the door opening. The door closing. Footsteps nearing. Her poor heart kicked up into high gear again. She straightened as best she could, sitting tall and proud. She wanted to please whoever it was Paolo had entrusted her to tonight. She licked her lips and attempted a shaky smile.

He hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t moved since the footsteps stopped. He wore some exotic scent that tickled her nostrils. Who was he? What did he look like? Why didn’t he have his own bondage toy to play with? Was he someone like her, someone who hadn’t been able to find a willing partner?

He was so quiet. He had to have been looking her over. Checking her out. Perhaps he was trying to decide what the first thing was he was going to do to her. Oh God, what was he going to do to her?

Her breathing began to come faster, harder. Panic scrambled in her chest. Maybe she couldn’t do this after all.

“Shh.” He brushed his hand gently down her cheek, through her hair, across her shoulder. And then again. “Shhh.” The soft strokes calmed her and she felt foolish for panicking. Paolo had promised she would be safe with this man. And while she might not know this man enough to trust him yet, she trusted Paolo. She believed him.

She nodded slowly, not daring to speak after Paolo’s warning. The man, her Master, began to lengthen his strokes. Without her sight, she seemed to experience every sensation more strongly. His hands were large and warm, the tips of his long fingers slightly calloused. She relaxed a little as he continued to caress her arms, her neck and shoulders. He lightly brushed his fingers along her breasts. Her body warmed under his hands. Shivery tingles ran along her skin.

Then she felt his lips, first soft on her jaw before they moved down her throat. He knelt between her wide-spread knees, the soft fabric of his trousers brushing against her inner thighs. His hands grasped her shoulders as his mouth moved lower, and lower still, until he captured one of her pebbled nipples between his lips.

Sparks prickled her nipples and shot straight between her legs. He suckled gently, laving the sensitive tip with his tongue. She gasped and arched her back as much as she could, shoving her breast closer to him. “More,” she wanted to yell. “Suck harder.” But she kept her silence, except for the soft moan she wasn’t able to hold back when he abruptly released the nipple.

He moved lower still, sweeping his lips down her abdomen and along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She trembled as his fingers slid between her legs, playing with her folds, plucking the tender flesh and spreading her cream. Her clit began to throb, but he didn’t come close to touching it. Then his mouth was there and her breath caught as his hot, wet tongue swept along the length of her pussy.
Incredible.
Her breath came faster again, but not from fear this time. She wanted more. Needed more. She lifted her hips as much as she could, pushing against his mouth.

He pulled away and she whimpered with frustration, her pussy pulsing with need. She felt him stand and then she heard the rasp of a zipper being lowered. Was he undressing, or simply releasing the only part of his anatomy that mattered at the moment? He moved between her legs right away and she could still feel fabric against her thighs so she got the answer to that question. His musky male scent wrapped around her.

She felt the sharp tap of his cock on her cheek. She was still mourning the loss of his mouth between her legs, so she must have been too slow in responding. The next thing she knew, he grabbed her chin and pulled down, rubbing his hard cock against her lips.

She opened her mouth and he plunged past her lips, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged and he let up slightly, but didn’t pull out. He drove his hands into her hair and grasped on to each side of her head. Then he began to fuck her mouth in long, hard strokes. She couldn’t move her head. He did all the moving, thrusting as deep as he wanted to, deeper than she’d ever taken a man before.

Now, for the first time, she truly felt like a plaything. She was simply an object to be used by this man, a toy to be played with. Tears prickled her eyes. She was scared and excited at the same time. She tried to relax her throat, to take him in as he wanted her to, but she couldn’t stop coughing and gagging when he went too deep.

He sighed and pulled out of her mouth. She immediately missed the taste of him, the weight of him on her tongue, and she blindly moved her head to try to find him. He grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head back. She cried out in pain and frustration.

“What do you want from me? Can’t you talk, damn it?” She’d probably be punished for speaking out like that. She’d read about discipline and punishment, but she didn’t care right now. Her tears dampened her face behind the blindfold. “How can I do what I’m told if you don’t tell me what to do?”

“Shhh.” He rubbed his cheek gently against hers, brushed his lips along her ear. “Don’t move.” He whispered the words so softly, she could barely hear them. But she remembered and she understood.

When his mouth was on her breast, it had felt so good she had arched her back. And he stopped sucking on her nipple. When his mouth was on her pussy, it had felt so good she’d lifted her hips. And he stepped away. When she moved her head to seek his cock, he grabbed her hair and reacted with anger.

She got it. She was an object. A plaything. Toys didn’t move on their own. Only when their owner wished it.

She quelled the burst of indignation as soon as it surged through her body. She had no right to be upset. This was what she’d signed up for. What she’d agreed to from the very beginning. How could she fully appreciate this experience if she fought against it at every turn?

So far she’d had no luck giving up the need for control. Had she been right all along? Would it be impossible? Couldn’t she even live out her fantasy right? She’d have to try harder, not just for herself, but for this man who had every right to expect it.

She heard him zip up his pants and walk away from her. Was he still angry? She wished he would speak. But then, boys didn’t talk to their toys, did they?

She heard the slide of a drawer. A thrill of anticipation danced in her stomach. What was he getting out of the cabinet? Something to give her pleasure? Or pain? Could she handle it if he came back with a flogger or a paddle? How about nipple clips or a butt plug?

She knew she was thinking too much. Desire licked her skin like fire. Her breasts were heavy, her nipples tingling. The flesh between her legs was swollen and throbbing. She needed him to come back. Use her. Make her feel. Make her lose control. She’d never been this aroused before. For the first time she thought it might really be possible.

Then he was in front of her again. He stroked her hair gently before pushing the heavy length over one shoulder. Then he wrapped something thick and stiff around her neck, pulling it so tight, she felt it press against her throat when she swallowed. A collar. Something clicked and pulled on the front of the collar, then fell long and cold between her breasts and bounced against her exposed pussy. Oh God, a leash.

She’d been collared and leashed. Shouldn’t that make her feel humiliated? Instead it made her even more aroused. She forced herself to remain still, but her sex throbbed so much she yearned to squirm in her seat to try to relieve the pressure building there. She swallowed again, pleased with the reminder of his hold over her. Surprising herself with the pleasure.

He quickly untied her from the chair and then tugged on the leash to pull her to her feet. She was afraid she would lose her balance in the darkness, but she stumbled along on her high heels as he led her across the smooth floor. When they stopped, he placed his hands on her shoulders, telling her to stay where she was.

He quickly bound her hands in front of her with her palms together then pulled up on the rope, so that her arms rose above her head. He must have attached her wrist binding to a hook or something, because when he stepped away from her, she was suddenly pulled up, her arms stretched toward the ceiling. He kept tugging until she was barely balancing on the toes of her shoes.

He knelt before her then and circled one of her ankles with his long fingers. He slowly ran his hands up her leg, first cupping her calf then moving up to caress her knee. Then he slid up her thigh until he barely brushed against her pussy this time. His hands made their way back down her leg again, dragging the calloused tips of his fingers across her skin until he reached her ankle once more. Then he did the same with the other leg, running his hot hands from ankle to hip and back down again. Shivers of delight rained over her body and concentrated right between her legs. Her pussy throbbed with need, but he didn’t touch her there again.

She’d thought her position had been precarious enough already until he pulled her legs apart and tied the ankles off, probably using some of those rings she’d seen attached to the floor. She was teetering now and she couldn’t stop the cry of alarm that escaped her lips. He chuckled in response, the sound dark and dangerous.

She heard him stand. When he yanked on the leash, she swung forward, and he surprised her by planting a kiss on her slightly parted lips. He crushed his lips to hers, plunging his tongue possessively into her mouth. His taste was rich and exotic, and she resisted the urge to suck on his tongue like a starving woman. Then he released her abruptly, both her lips and the leash, and she swung away, helpless.

She yelped as she swayed on her bonds, rocking on the toes of her shoes. With her palms bound together, she couldn’t even clutch the ropes for some sense of security. He obviously wanted her helpless. She knew he was watching her. He was probably enjoying the way her body twisted and turned wildly on the ropes.

Then his hands were on her, stopping the swinging of her body. He smoothed her hair away from her face, stroked her breasts, her ribs, her quivering abdomen. She sighed as his gentle caresses relaxed her. Heated her. He walked behind her and brushed his hands over the cheeks of her ass, softly rubbing the skin, dipping his fingers quickly through her wet folds. He plunged a finger deep in her core and her pussy instinctively clenched around it, but he pulled it out again just as quickly. Then he returned to the soft strokes again.

When the slap on her ass came, she cried out loud, more from surprise than pain. She rocked on her toes from the force of the blow. He returned to the gentle strokes on her ass, but now she couldn’t relax. Her brain started working overtime again. When would he spank her again? What if she didn’t like the pain? Would she have to call a stop to the play?

Already she didn’t want to disappoint him. She wanted to be strong for him. His fingers played with her pussy again and the rush of delightful tingles made her drop her guard. Which was no doubt what he intended.

Then he slapped her bottom again, even harder, and she gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t consider calling a stop to it. He spanked her again and again, the pain so sharp she could barely catch her breath. Each time her body jerked, the leash hanging from the collar slapped into her pussy. Her body swung slightly away from him with each hard smack from the flat of his hand. Then she swayed back to meet the next strike. She couldn’t escape.