Command Performance (16 page)

“Is this where you ask me what I want for Christmas?” she joked.

“That depends. Do you want some handcuffs, nipple clamps, and/or a leather strap for Christmas?”

Her tummy flip-flopped and turned over. Yes, she wanted those things. She wanted to play harder, to see if she liked those things as much as she thought she would like them. She’d asked for cuffs and nipple clamps before but he’d told her she had to wait. And a leather strap. A real spanking.

“Did you...did you bring those things?” she asked.

“I might have.” She could feel her face reddening. She buried it in his neck. “Are you on the good list or the naughty list?” he intoned with a hint of teasing in his voice. “Wait, don’t answer that. Let me see for myself.” He slid a hand between her legs, probed her wet center with gentle fingers. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Definitely a naughty girl.”

She let him lift her to her feet. He pointed into the house, toward the bedroom. “Walk.”

That one word,
Walk
, resonated in her pussy with a clench and an erotic pulse. He watched her, perhaps thinking she wouldn’t do it, but she hadn’t prodded him this far to lose the opportunity. She just needed a moment to screw up her courage.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Mason stared at her. “Whatever I want.”

Whatever I want.
Good Lord, that just about sent her over the edge right then and there. She started toward the bedroom and he came after her, provocative menace at her back. She felt safe though. This was Mason, not some stranger. He’d already asked what fantasies excited her, and shared some of his own. He knew she was a beginner. Hell, he’d had to teach her how to do a blowjob. That had been interesting, but based on those lessons, she knew Mason would be patient and take things slow.

But what if the things he did to her really hurt? Hurt more than him busting through her hymen? Of course it would hurt more than that. That pain had only lasted a second or two. A real BDSM scene, with real equipment and real implements, might last quite a while and hurt a whole hell of a lot more.

He led her to the center of the bedroom, then crossed to his bag and returned with a slim black collar.

“This is for you,” he said. “Do you know what it means?”

Miri stared at the delicate circle of leather, its silver buckle glinting in the half-light. “It means...well... I know it’s a submission thing.”

He nodded. “It represents submission, ownership. Your value to me. Whenever we play, I’ll put this collar on you. It’s a covenant of sorts, a symbol that I promise to take care of you, and you promise to submit to me. Not only submit to me, but trust me.” He put it around her neck, threaded the tail end through the buckle. “I’ll try to be worthy of your trust.”

They were such beautiful, formal words. They didn’t sound rehearsed, but heartfelt. Miri stared into his eyes. He looked shy, like maybe she wouldn’t be okay with all this, but she thought it was wonderful. “I... Wow.” She touched the soft leather. “Thank you.”

“It’s beautiful on you, baby.”

She flushed at his softly spoken compliment. The collar was narrow and light but it felt heavy around her neck, perhaps because of all it represented. Her submission, the fact that she was willing to give herself over to whatever he desired. Mason nodded toward the bed. “Lie down. Face down, on your tummy. Spread your arms and legs for me.”

She tried to look sexy as she did it, even though her limbs stiffened with nervousness. She spread her arms to the side and parted her legs while he rooted around in his suitcase. She heard the clink of metal. Nipple clamps? She wondered what they would feel like, if they would hurt more or less than his fingers when he pinched her. Some cuffs landed beside her, soft black leather with finished edges. They looked expensive and well made, like the ones attached to his dungeon furniture back home. A rectangular strap came next, in matching black leather with a tooled handle. Holy shit. It looked heavy, like it could really do some damage. He wouldn’t damage her...would he?

He returned to the bed, stopping at the foot and pushing her legs much farther apart. She lay still, quivering and nervous, her face buried in the sheets. He fitted the cuffs around her ankles, then fixed each cuff with rope to some point under the bed. He came around to her arms, taking one wrist and securing it. Before he cuffed her other wrist, he stopped and gazed into her eyes. What did he see? The fear she felt? The longing?

“Don’t be scared,” he said.

Don’t be scared. You’re made for me.

When she was completely tied down, he stood and put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to spank you, naughty girl, and then you’re going to stand in the corner with nipple clamps on. It’s going to hurt, but you deserve it, don’t you?”

Miri didn’t know whether to start bawling or laugh out loud. “Answer ‘
Yes, Sir
,’” he prompted.

“Yes, Sir,” she squeaked out.
Oh God, yes, yes, please, Sir...

He crawled onto the bed beside her and picked up the strap. She tested the cuffs in some kind of last minute hysteria, but no, she couldn’t get away. She braced for pain but he started with some pretty mild cracks. The sound freaked her out more than anything. Sensation-wise, it barely stung and she felt kind of let down. She’d expected something a bit more exciting. He continued hitting her ass with the strap, getting a little harder along the way, but nothing to really make her flinch.

Then he stopped.
That’s it?
She turned to look up at him but he frowned. “Face down, naughty girl.”

She turned her eyes back down to the bed, burying her face in the covers. He made some small sound she couldn’t interpret, and then his palm smoothed over her ass cheeks and up to the small of her back. He pressed down, as if to brace her. And then...

Holy fucking mother.

She tried to twist away as the sting spread across her bottom. That, then, was a real stroke. The rest had been a warm up, preparation. He hit her again, still holding her down. When she jumped, his palm stilled her, along with the cuffs that held her fast. She couldn’t get away—that was the hottest part of it, the thing that had her pussy flaring with almost unbearable lust. The pain was amazing. In the haze of surprise and shock, she tried to sort out whether she liked it or not.
Crack!

She cried out, then dropped her head and whimpered into the sheets. He strapped her again, and again, and soon her small whimpers became a long, tormented moan. This was real pain, not slaps and tickles. His hand grounded her, along with the cuffs, but her ass still burned like living hell. What was that word he’d told her when they were working on the blowjobs?
Lollipops.
Lollipops was their safeword, but she didn’t want to use it. This was too thrilling, too intense.

She’d lost count of the strokes already. She just knew they were steadily getting harder, and she wondered how far he would go. She didn’t want to have to stop him. She wished he would stop before she was forced to complain. But
oww
...fuck. Her ass was on fire, a fire that got hotter with every stroke he dealt her.

“Are you learning a lesson, naughty girl?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m learning a lesson. Please...”
Please stop. But please don’t.

He stopped. She was disappointed but she knew she probably couldn’t have taken much more. The strap fell back on the bed beside her and again she felt the cool palm across her super-heated cheeks, stroking, cupping, squeezing. She wanted to grind against the bed, arch back into him, beg for more sex. The strapping had hurt but it made her feel alive physically, made her feel intense sexual excitement. It made her crazy for him. She lay there shaking with lust, waiting to see what came next. He knelt down, undid the cuffs from her wrists and ankles but left them secured to the bed. She hoped that meant he planned to use them again soon. Once her ass recovered, that was.

“Sit up,” he said in a stern voice. “Sit right on the edge of the bed.”

She did as he asked. He looked her over with a sultry stare. “Back straight. Breasts out.”

Oh, the command in his voice. She felt it between her legs like the thrust of a cock. She complied, straightening her back and pushing her chest forward. She knew what was coming even before he crossed back to his bags for the nipple clamps. He fiddled with them a little, turning a screw on each one. A delicate silver chain connected the two together. It hung down from his fingers, mesmerizing in the low light. She was too shy to look him in the face.

He stepped close to her, put a hand on each knee and pressed her legs apart so her wet pussy was bared to his gaze. “Keep them that way.” She chanced a glimpse at him. He looked back expectantly.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, remembering. She was rewarded with a slight softening of his eyes.

“You’re learning. A little corner time will give you even more time to think things through.”

Yes, she needed time to think things through. This scene was affecting her more deeply than she’d expected, in ways she hadn’t foreseen. She felt powerless, but powerful. Vulnerable, but so treasured and safe. She pondered that paradox as he pinched her left nipple in an almost clinical way, teasing it until it drew into a hard peak. Then he produced the first clamp and opened it. She held her breath, bracing, and cringed when he fastened it to her nipple.
Holy crap.
It really hurt!

He watched her face as she huffed in and out. She let him see the pain there. If he liked when she was scared, he probably liked when he hurt her too. “Ouch,” she whispered.

“Too much?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head. “No. It’s…it’s okay.”

He touched her cheek and then started teasing the other nipple. The left one throbbed, but she was adjusting to the pain. Then it bloomed anew as he closed the clamp over the right one. The chain swung between her breasts and oh, God, she hurt, but she never wanted it to end.

“Come on. Get up. Five minutes in the corner.”

As she walked with his hand at her back, she felt the soreness in her ass from the strapping. She felt punished, like a naughty, sexy girl. He made her stand with her breasts touching the wall, her hands straight at her sides. Even that, the demand that she hold her arms in a certain position, drove her absolutely wild. He told her to think about what happened to naughty girls as she stood there, and she did think about that, which is why she began to shift from foot to foot with arousal. Her pussy was hot and wet and aching for his cock. With his deep, growly voice, he warned her to be still or she’d be punished again. She wondered what he’d do to her if she started grinding against the wall the way she wanted to.

Behave.
Behave.
She was learning. She was learning that naughty girls got punished and that it felt pretty damn good. She wondered if Mason got as much out of this as she did. He didn’t leave the room or putter around with his phone, even though she heard a few chimes for incoming messages. He just sat on the bed and stared at her. At her beet red ass, probably. She turned around to check out her color.

“Eyes front,” he said.

Eyes front. Yes, Sir.
The five minutes seemed to last an eternity. This had to end with sex, didn’t it? Surely they couldn’t do this powerful, erotic thing together and just go to bed, or go out for a swim? He was going to fuck her. He had to. Please.
Please.

She heard the springs creak as Mason rose off the bed. She felt more than heard him coming closer. It was like her body recognized his heat by now, his essence. The closer he got, the more she shook.
Touch me, please touch me.

He squeezed her shoulders, brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. He put an arm around her to hold her still. With the other hand he reached for the first clamp.

“It might hurt a little when I take these off. Breathe through it. It will pass.”

He took off the clamp and there was a beat and then flooding pain as sensation returned with a vengeance. “Damn,” she whispered under her breath. He took off the other one before she could start dreading it, although it hurt just as much. She forgot all about the pain though, because next his hand smoothed down her front to her mons, one finger pressing through hot wetness to rub over her clit. She wanted to sob, it felt so good after all the sensual torment.

“Oh, God... Please!”

“Please what?” he asked. “More corner time?”

“No...” She gasped as his arm came around her waist, lifting her. He slid her up his body, her back to his front, and sank inside her. His other hand spread against the front of her pelvis to steady her. He braced her against him, caressing and teasing her clit. It felt so good she threw her head back with a groan and knocked it against his shoulder. He grunted but he didn’t stop.

He fucked her slowly, in a controlled way, which she appreciated since her pussy felt slightly sore. This was round three in the space of a few hours, but she was so wet that it wasn’t too bad. Her ass was what really hurt—the aftermath of Mason’s strapping. Thinking of that got her even wetter...oh, God, and when he moved like that...

The angle was different when he took her from behind. He went deeper, so she felt even more filled up. Her nipples ached as they rubbed against the wall. She felt trapped and overpowered. She didn’t know why she liked it so much, she just did. All the sensation—in combination with his expert manipulation of her clit—had her about to climb the walls. Literally.

“Oh…oh! Mason…”

“Yes, baby?”

She was about to catch fire. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

“I won’t. Not until you come for me, naughty girl.”

God, yes, she was naughty. Guilty as charged. She tossed her head back again, connected with his shoulder again. With a groan, he took her down to the floor, bent her over on her knees and covered her with his body. She collapsed, squirming under him. All her pent up lust from the cuffs, the strap, the clamps all coalesced into an orgasm that came awfully close to making her cry. She clenched around Mason’s cock as he drove into her. This was wildness, complete and utter abandon, and it felt like heaven. When he finished he fell on top of her with a groan.