Pound of Flesh (4 page)

Max crossed to the nearby winch control
mounted on the wall and lifted Violet from the ground. He eyed her
suspended form for any slippage or tilting as she rose from the
floor. Max had been rigging women (and even a handful of men) for
more than, hell, sixteen years. Other than those early days of
common mistakes he’d never had a submissive fall or slide or get
hurt by his ties. He was swift and meticulous but even so he always
kept a close eye on the ropes—just in case.

The tightly stretched rope creaked. Max
allowed his gaze to dance over Violet’s contorted body. She hung
helpless and bound, her lips stretched wide around the pink ball
gag. The hogtie position thrust her breasts forward, exposing them
for whatever kind of punishments he might want to inflict. The
handkerchief remained tightly clutched in her fist. He considered
her bound wrists and elbows and worried she might lose feeling
after a while and be unable to drop the handkerchief. Best to give
her a third way to tap out of the scene.

“Violet, if you want to stop and can’t let go
of the handkerchief, just groan or growl three times in a row.
Understand?” She nodded twice. “Good girl.”

Max grabbed a couple of fishing weights from
the second drawer of the armoire and brought them back to Violet’s
side. He clipped the weights onto the nipple clamps. Violet moaned
in protest. He stroked her rib as if quieting a horse and then gave
her a gentle push. The fishing weights dangling from the nipple
clamps jingled as her straining body swung slowly back and forth.
Her flushed skin was pink with arousal. A light sheen of
perspiration glistened along the curves of her straining body.
Saliva already dribbled down her chin. Damp strands of hair clung
to her forehead. He’d pulled most of it back into a ponytail before
working her over with his hand and strap but there always seemed to
be a few curly strands that escaped the black elastic band. Max
wasn’t surprised. In a way, those rebellious little strands of hair
were a perfect metaphor for Violet. There was no caging her in,
keeping her confined.

He nuzzled his face close to hers. His lips
brushed her ear. “Are you ready to play?”

Chapter Two

Oh, god, yes!

Silenced by the gag, Violet could only nod
twice but she tried to do so with as much enthusiasm as possible.
There was nothing she enjoyed more than the feeling of rope
wrapping around her body like a cocoon. The sensation of the jute
embrace kept her grounded and secure while she pushed her body to
accept whatever punishments Max doled out.

Her ears perked to the slightest sound.
Without her sight, she relied on her sense of hearing to provide
clues as to what might be coming. The feeling of being bound and
blindfolded and gagged sent shivers of excitement through her
belly. She lived for these moments of helplessness. There was
something intoxicating about giving Max power to do whatever he
wanted to her. The pain, the pleasure, the submission—it was like a
craving she simply couldn’t sate. More, she always wanted more.

And Max was happy to provide.

From the moment she’d clapped eyes on him,
Violet had just known he was The One. She’d been searching for
something, for someone, to fulfill her darker desires. Her
relationships in college had been so frustrating and empty. She
seemed to gravitate to the wrong sort of man. Too soft, too easily
pushed, too quick to cave. She wanted a man to tell her no, to
throw her over his lap and whip her ass when she was sassy or
misbehaved. She wanted to be tied up and tickled until she cried.
She wanted to be fucked in the ass and called dirty names while her
lover pulled her hair. On top of all that, she craved the vanilla
side of things too. She wanted the gentle lovemaking and cuddling
and lazy Sunday afternoons on the couch watching football games and
noshing on snacks.

Once, Violet had tried to explain that to a
somewhat serious boyfriend. He’d looked at her like she was some
kind of weirdo and bolted the next afternoon, never to be heard
from again. A little searching online had provided Violet with the
answers to her questions. She found a local BDSM scene and did a
lot of watching and very little participating. Finding the right
man to dominate her had proven more difficult than she’d expected.
There were Doms aplenty—but just not the right one for her.

Until Max.

She’d met him at one of the casual munches
hosted by one of the area’s nicest BDSM clubs. He’d caught her eye
across a crowded room and the world had seemed to stand still. It
was cliché and perhaps a bit too romantic but that was exactly the
way she remembered it. His gaze had burned her skin, made her pulse
race and her thighs clench. He’d crossed the room and introduced
himself—and she’d been gone. That voice, the low timbre that oozed
sex and made her quiver with anticipation. Those pale green eyes
that seemed to penetrate the darkest recesses of her mind. Those
rough hands with their scarred knuckles and callused palms. There
was no going back after Max.

Their courtship had been surprisingly
vanilla. A couple of dinners, a movie, the opera. He’d shown Violet
he wasn’t interested in dominating her 24/7 and that he wanted
something more than a straightforward sexual arrangement for a
little deviant sex and spanking. They’d dated a full five weeks
before they ever made it to the bedroom. There had been a spanking
here and there and some other interesting games where Max tested
her ability to submit but nothing too kinky. That first time they
made love had been surprisingly gentle and yet deliciously mind
blowing in the orgasm department. She’d come so hard and so often
she’d been sure she would pass out and die.

After that first night together, there had
been no doubt in Violet’s mind the relationship was going all the
way. It had been four, nearly five, years of mostly domestic bliss.
The last two of the wedded bliss variety. Sure, there were
arguments and disagreements but nothing a healthy relationship and
some give and take couldn’t overcome. It was good between them,
really good.

Violet strained to hear as Max moved away
from her. Where was he going? What was he grabbing? A cane? A
flogger? A sex toy? She practically vibrated with excitement and
anticipation. Her ass felt full and stretched. Her clit throbbed
with need. She was so wet and ready for his cock, his fingers, a
dildo—whatever. She just wanted something in her pussy fucking
her.

Feeling tight and afraid of muscle cramps,
she willed her muscles to relax, consciously moving from her neck
to her shoulders and arms and down her legs to her ankles and toes.
It wasn’t easy. The tough hogtie position kept constant pressure on
her joints, forcing them into unnatural angles. Long ago, she’d
learned it was easier to accept the discomfort of her bonds than
fight against them.

Already warmed and flooded with endorphins
from the spanking session and the anal play orgasm, her body
hovered just a few levels short of that bliss-inducing state of
subspace she so loved. By embracing the pain, welcoming the sensual
torture certain to come her way, Violet was one step closer to that
plane of ecstasy sought by so many submissives.

Max’s tongue slithered over her the shin of
her left leg. His hand slid along the inside of her thighs and
inched ever closer to her dripping wet sex. She held her breath as
his rough fingers traced the outline of her pussy lips. First one
finger and then another probed her slick wetness. She desperately
wanted to rock her hips and push back against his intrusion but her
bonds held fast. She was completely at his mercy as he leisurely
circled her clit and played with her pussy.

When his fingers slipped inside her, Violet
let out a low moan. She’d missed his touch so much. He thrust in
and out at a slow pace. The wide pad of his thumb danced over her
clit. His teeth grazed her shin and nipped at her ankle. She
squeezed her PC muscles to milk every ounce of sensation from his
pistoning digits. The plug in her bottom seemed to make every touch
down there more electric and exciting. There was no holding back
the building orgasm. She could only pray he’d give her permission
to come soon.

Tentacles of rippling pleasure invaded her
lower belly. She breathed heavier, faster. Her toes curled and
fingers gripped the handkerchief. Her moans came out short and
quick. She growled around the gag in her mouth.

“I want you to come for me, Violet. Come on
my hand.”

Violet groaned with relief at the sound of
Max’s permission. She let go, lived for the pleasure his thrusting
fingers provoked, and came hard. The orgasm crashed down on her
like a heavy wave, sweeping her under like a torrent of ecstasy.
Ever jerk of her body was accented by the jingle jangle of the
fishing weights dangling from the nipple clamps. Her ass clenched
around the wide plug. There was nothing like the overwhelming
sensations of being doubly penetrated. Her cries were muffled by
the rubber gag stretching her jaw wide.

As Violet rode the falling waves of her
orgasm, Max’s two fingers were joined by a third and fourth. The
slick cream of her arousal aided the insertion but she groaned as
she tried to accept him. It was almost too much with the four
fingers and the butt plug. But she loved the way it felt when his
big hands manipulated her body. Tied up and helpless, she gave over
to the sensation of his thick fingers sliding in and out of her wet
pussy.

When something firm and round pressed to her
clit, Violet inhaled sharply. She instantly recognized the feel of
the tennis-ball sized head of the vibrating wand Max liked to use
on her. The second it twitched to life, the powerful vibrations of
the massager buzzed right through her clit. The vibrations spread
through her hot flesh. Her muscles tensed and relaxed as she
climbed the pleasurable ascent to climax.

Max was relentless when it came to giving her
orgasms. She went wild, bucking against the ropes as Max
finger-fucked her with wild abandon. She reveled in the debauched
sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of her wet flesh and the
intense buzzing of the vibrator. There was no holding back, no
stopping the rough explosion of her orgasm.

“Unh! Unh! Unhhhh!” Violet shouted around the
rubber gag.

“Come for me, Violet. Come hard.”

There was no denying Max. Whatever he wanted,
whatever she was hers to give, was his. Her climax rolled on and
on, one crescendo, one fall, after another. The vibrator and Max’s
fingers worked together to pull one orgasm after another out of her
body.

She screamed at the sharp sensation of Max’s
teeth sinking into the plump flesh of her ass. The mix of pleasure
and pain sent her skyrocketing into that deliciously heady place
known as subspace. She slipped into a warm place of pleasure as the
endorphin rush took hold. At some point, Max removed his fingers
and switched off the vibrator. His rough palms slid over her
sweat-slicked skin. He pressed soft kisses everywhere he touched.
His lips moved against her ear, whispering sweetly.

He left her hanging for a few minutes as she
slowly descended from the ethereal plane of her post-orgasmic high.
She was vaguely aware of the sounds of ice clinking against glass.
When he returned to her side, his cold, slightly damp hand
confirmed he’d been drinking something. His iced tea, she
supposed.

His cool hand caressed her still hot and most
likely bright red ass. Violet was certain she’d be bruised by
morning. Not that bruises were a bad thing. Well. To her, at least.
Like most spankos, she got off on the sight of the red and purple
blotches marring her buttocks. She was freak like that.

Max supported her stomach with his strong arm
as he cut the ropes binding her ankles to her wrists and then the
ropes binding her elbows and wrists behind her back. She unfolded
her tingling legs and arms very carefully. She nervously waited for
that horrible pins and needles sensation sure to follow.

Instead of using the wench to lower her to
the ground, Max slashed the series of ropes and knots attaching her
jute body corset to the D-ring and suspension ring. Like a caveman,
he threw her over his shoulder. Still blindfolded and gagged and
with the butt plug firmly in place, Violet allowed herself to be
draped over him like some kind of prize. Secretly, she found it
thrilling to be tossed over his shoulder and carried away like the
stolen bride of a romance novel.

Still listening intently, she caught what
sounded like Max swiping his glass of iced tea from the armoire
before heading out of the playroom. That wasn’t like him at all to
leave the cut ropes and toys and such just lying about the room.
Typically Max liked to keep everything neat and tidy. They usually
put everything away after a scene and wiped down the props and
furniture.

But not tonight.

Tonight he was a man on a mission. He
practically pulsed with lust and need. He took the steps fast and
didn’t even bother to shut the door to the basement behind them.
She waited for the telltale squeak and bang but there was only
silence. In no time at all, they were upstairs in their bedroom and
Max was carefully lowering her to the ground. His arm slid around
her waist, steadying her as she tried to get her bearings again.
Her limbs still tingled with that awful pins and needles sting so
she tried not to move until it passed.

Max moved around behind her. His thick cock
jutted through the denim of his jeans and pushed against her
backside. Max cupped her breasts and nibbled the curve of her neck.
When he removed the first nipple clamp, she groaned around the gag.
It hurt like hell as blood rushed back into the compressed vessels
of her nipple. The second clamp removal felt even worse because of
the anticipation. Goose bumps popped up on her flesh.