Adventurous Me (18 page)

He motions for me to follow, then turns and strolls into his bathroom with me right behind him; that ass is perfection, and I’m getting wet just watching him walk in front of me. His shower stall is huge, lined with dark tile and adorned with metallic accents, and it has an enormous bench built into the back wall. Placed on the bench is a medium-sized storage tub. He opens the wide, tempered-glass door and motions for me to follow. Ah, sex in the shower, just like I asked. This’ll be good.

When I join him in his tiled sanctuary, he spreads a large, plush towel on the bench and takes a seat. His enormous manhood is still vibrating with its own pulse, a pearly drop of pre-cum greeting me on its velvety head.

“Turn with your back to me.” I don’t waste any time doing so. “Hands on the floor.” I bend and place my hands as far onto the floor as I can manage. There’s a snap of a bottle cap, and in a few seconds, cold lube drips down the crack of my ass. I hear the bottle snap shut, and then he starts to rim my anus with his finger. He pumps a finger in and out of me, then two. After a minute or so, he replaces the two with three and I almost moan; it’s hard not to. I feel him try to spread the three fingers apart and the stretch that accompanies his effort. The burn is fearsome and delicious.

Then he pulls his fingers out. “Nice and tight.” He stands and grips my hip with one hand. I can feel his cock head against my tiny hole, and then he’s pressing in. The only way I can keep silent is to bite my lip, which I do – hard. He sinks into me slowly, but then his work takes a forceful turn, and the pressure and pain are intense as he forces his way through my ring of muscles. “I’ve used your ass over and over, but you’re still tight like an anal virgin. Amazing.” His words come out almost as a groan, and they snatch the breath from my lungs. “You use red as your safeword, correct?” When I nod again, he pulls back, then rams into my ass.

I fight to keep my voice paralyzed. He draws back out and plows in again, striking deep inside my constriction, both hands gripping my hips. A tear escapes my eye, but I hold firm. When he’s completely in me up to his balls, he whispers, “Stand up.” His arms go around my waist and he takes one step backward, then sits down on the bench with me firmly impaled on his shaft.

The pain ignites my desire, and my clit’s begun a vicious, relentless throbbing. I wonder if he’s going to want me to ride his magnificence. Instead, he grips my thighs from underneath, lifts my legs, and drops them back onto his with my calves on the outsides of his legs. It dawns on me that he can butterfly my legs completely open by moving his apart. He opens the storage tub, but when I try to look, he snaps, “Eyes to the front! This is about trust. Do you trust me?” I nod. I can hear him moving things around.

He leans slightly forward and draws something around my chest above my breasts – a wide nylon strap with a buckle. Once he’s fastened it, he tightens it, and that’s when I understand; it wraps around both of us. He’s bound me to him, my back to his chest. When he leans forward the second time, another strap appears around my waist. I’m bound to him in a way that leaves me completely unable to move independently. Two more straps go around our thighs, as far up as he can get them, and another pair just above our knees.

“Put your wrists together.” When I get them crossed, he ties them with a length of nylon rope, leaving two long tails. “Over your head and behind it.” I bring my arms up and drop my hands behind my head, and he slips his head into the circle of my arms. Then he takes the rope ends and brings them around in front of us, tying them together. That’s it – I can’t move without his help.

This binding is erotic in a way I’ve never experienced. I am, for all intents and purposes, one with him, completely at his mercy. His cock is deep inside my back channel, and I can’t move unless he does, so it’s pretty clear he won’t be pumping into me with his dick. The helplessness I feel sends white-hot current from my scalp to the soles of my feet, but I can’t figure out what he’s about to do.

Reaching around both of us, he parts my labial lips and presses a finger into my pussy. “You’re already wet. Good. I suppose you’re curious about what I’m going to do with you.” I nod, and he draws the finger up inside my slit until he finds my clit, circling it ever so gently. “You’ll like it. You’ll beg for it again before the week is over. It will satisfy you in a way you’ve never known before.” His certainty makes me shiver. But I can’t help wondering: If he’s just going to finger me, why in the shower?

Master leans us both forward and starts the water in the shower. It doesn’t come out of the shower head up on the wall; instead, it shoots out of a hand-held shower head lower, below the control. After waiting for the water to warm up, he takes the hand-held head and trains the water on my mons. “Too hot?” I shake my head.

Oh my god. As I understand what he’s planning to do, a painful thrumming sets up just behind my nub. He turns a ring on the shower head, and I watch in horror and fascination as the water goes from a rain-like circle to a pulsing, concentrated stream. Something deep inside me makes me wish I was wearing a blindfold.

“I see you understand what I’m about to do. I will take you somewhere you’ll want to go over and over. And you will be completely silent, do you understand?” I nod. “Not a peep. Again, safeword – you may speak.”

“Red, Master.”

“Very good. Prepare yourself.” He places his finger over my clit and moves the showerhead. When he takes his finger away, the stream is shooting directly into my swollen little nodule.

No doubt about it, it’s beyond stimulating. I can barely wait to feel the orgasm building, to feel the pressure mounting, to come, unable to thrust my hips or close my legs because of our bindings and the way his legs hold mine open. I can feel myself slipping into it, the clenching and releasing deep in my core, and I’m ready for it.

Before I can fall into it, he reaches back into the plastic tub and pulls out a giant dildo, bigger than the one he used when he double penetrated me. He places it at the entrance to my pussy and pushes it into my already-slick channel. It fills me up to bursting with his cock in my ass, and I fight the urge to cry out.

Holding the dildo in place with his free hand, his fingers trail up my slit to my clit once more. But this time he surprises me. He spreads our legs wider, then uses his index finger to retract the hood over my pearl and hold it. With his middle finger placed directly over my bud, he shifts us ever so slightly and then removes the second finger.

It’s blinding. A jetted stream of water hits my plumped-up, fully-exposed clit full force, and I fight to keep from gasping. I can’t move, can’t escape, can’t even draw my legs together, and I can’t remember my safeword, even though it’s just about as standard as they come. All I can do is feel the pain of the concentrated stream of water drilling into the most sensitive spot on my body, spiking into it, and the knotting of the muscles in my abdomen and pussy are going from rippling to excruciating spasms in a matter of seconds. I want him to stop, but I also desperately want it, what he’s offering me, the pain and the release, so many sensations bombarding me that I fight to keep my wits about me. More than anything, I want him to be pleased with me and enjoy me. I want him to want me more than he’s ever wanted any woman. I can barely breathe, and I know that, whatever my body does, it will be violent. It’s a struggle to stay quiet.

“So intense. So painful. So hungry for it,” he whispers, and a wild shudder runs through the deepest part of me as his breath tickles my ear. I almost whimper, but I want more than anything to follow his orders and stay silent, to please him and to show him that I can take whatever he challenges me with. Everything is building, the spasms in my gut almost unbearable, and then it happens.

I come. The orgasm swallows me whole, dropping me into a darkness that has no bottom. Every inch of my body is sizzling, my hips unable to churn, my legs spread so wide that there’s no escape. No muscle in my being is relaxed; everything is drawn up and screaming. My hands fight against his neck and the rope, and my body struggles to be released from the straps, but there’s no release and no relief. A silent scream forms on my lips, and I can feel my eyes rolling back, but there’s nothing I can do as my body goes into complete overload and I lose any control I might’ve had. My head thrashes. My legs cramp. And he keeps going, never letting up, never moving the stream of water, and it’s too much. I hear myself make a guttural sound followed by a shriek the likes of which I’ve never uttered before. That’s all I remember.

When I manage to pry an eye open, I look around. I’m in Master’s bed, naked and wet, but stretched out and comfortable with a sheet drawn over me. There’s soft music playing, some kind of jazz. As I listen, I can hear his voice somewhere in the house.

“Yeah. And I’m worried. She still hasn’t come around . . . I tried that. This has never happened before, and there’s no way for me to know if . . . Do you think I should call an ambulance? Her pulse is strong and her breathing is even.” I can hear his voice getting closer, and then it’s in the room. “She’s awake. Gotta go.” Before I can say or do anything, he’s there, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me against his body.

“Jesus, are you okay?” I shrug – I’m not sure, because I can’t figure out what happened. “You scared me to death.” Because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to speak, I just bury my face in his chest.

“Hey. We need to go vanilla now,” he says, pulling my face up so I can look into his. There’s worry in those sweet eyes. “I want you to talk to me. Trish, baby, what happened in there?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. One minute I was in the shower with you. The next, I was waking up in here.”

“You passed out cold. That’s never happened before.” He strokes my face as he speaks.

“So you do this with subs often?”

“Just occasionally.”

“And this has never happened before?” I’m having trouble believing that. How could anyone take anything that intense?

“No. There’s a really good reason for that too.” He draws my face up and looks directly into my eyes. “No other sub has ever let that happen. They safeworded the split second the orgasm hit. You’re the first sub I’ve done that with who’s hung in there and ridden the crest. I saw things in there with you that I’ve never seen before. Frankly, I probably would’ve stopped a lot sooner, but I was so caught up in watching you, your body, the way you were responding, that I forgot to turn off the water.” He kisses me gently, then puts his hand under my chin to hold my gaze. “You wanted it. You wanted whatever I gave you. You were determined to say nothing, to follow my orders, to take it. You wanted me to own your body.”

I can feel my face starting to burn. I’d wanted it so badly, to please him, to know if he came inside me as I writhed, that I hadn’t given a thought to myself. Well, if he had come inside me, I missed it. Apparently I missed quite a few things, unconscious as I was. I’m sure my cheeks are flaming in embarrassment.

“Why are you blushing?” There’s no way I’m meeting his eyes. “Why would you be embarrassed?”

“I’m afraid of what you must think of me,” I whisper.

“What do you mean? What do you
think
I think of you?” he quizzes, a puzzled look on his face.

I can’t look at him. “You must think I’m the biggest slut you’ve ever seen.” There’s a tear threatening to roll down my cheek, and I decide if that happens, if I cry, I’ll just have to leave. I wouldn’t be able to take any more from him. All I’d wanted was to make him happy with me.

“Baby, that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” I think for a second that I’ve heard him wrong, and my eyes rotate straight toward his. “I’ve never seen a woman just lose herself in an orgasm to the point of unconsciousness. I won’t lie – you scared the shit out of me, and I’m not eager to experience that again. But it was, well, it was just fucking amazing, angel. It made me feel like the most powerful man on earth, knowing you were satisfied in a way I’ve never satisfied any other woman.” He kisses my forehead. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yes, Master?”

“I got a chance to peek into the envelopes before we left the club the other day.” He’d peeked too? I can’t believe it. “And I know what was in them.”

I nod. “I peeked too.”

“No! Really? So you know too?” He seems completely at a loss. “What do you make of it? I’d just like to hear your opinion.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I’d say Dave thought we should do this together. I don’t know why. Do you?”

He smiles. “I have no idea why. But right now,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose, “I’d say Dave is a very wise man.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I would’ve been devastated if you’d gone with anyone else,” he adds, and I know he means Master Steffen.

Clint wanted me. He wanted to spend these weeks with me. And we wound up together. There’s a tiny little hint of fear on his face when he asks, “Were you disappointed? Did you want to go with . . . someone else?”

I shake my head, and I’m not lying. “I was relieved, even glad, when they called my name with yours. I was afraid, but I was glad too. You were the one I wanted to go with, Master.” I can’t believe I just admitted that, but it feels good to get the words out into the air.