Restraint (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (12 page)

Yeah, Temptation
loves biting.

I startle when a hand touches the juncture of my clothed thighs. “Shh, it’s alright.” Ez whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek. “I’ll just touch you a little bit, get you comfortable.”

His hand mimics mine as I intimately touch Temptation. My breathy gasps match hers. Master Ez holds me from behind. The heat of his body permeates mine. It warms me from the outside in, all the way to the cold depths of my soul. My master’s heart beats against my back, and mine slows to match the rhythm of his.

The three of us trickle as a battery, eac
h feeding the next, connecting- breath, heartbeat, and need, all flowing continuously through us. Temptation’s speed increases as she feverishly rides my palm. Master Ez’s fingertips match the speed, rapidly circling on my fabric-covered pussy. We are close. We will go together. My hand leaves her breast to rest over Master Ez’s hand, to stop him.

“No, I don’t want to come,
” I whimper in warning, panic leaking into my voice. “No,” I cry.

I try to pull Master Ez’s
hand away, my sweaty fingertips slip on his skin. He’s too strong. He doesn’t stop, but slows. Anxiety mounts at the thought of climaxing for anyone.

“It’s not what you want, but what you need. Trust me. You’re safe. Just let go.” He
gently places a kiss to my lips and I almost lose it.

I fiercely bite his lip, an animal lashing out. I roughly pull away. Ez
evilly snickers at me for having the guts to punish my own master.

“Don’t come, T
emptation, not until I tell you,” I groan, She was so close, just the flick of a fingertip against her clit or brush of my mouth against her skin. If she goes, I will follow.

Hands grip my breasts-
fingers bruisingly pinch my nipples. My hands fly to my breasts, astonished to find Master Ez playing puppeteer with my sub.

“She’s mine, not yours,
” I grumble, fear and anxiety causing me to say things better left unsaid. Possession flows through me. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s touching and telling my sub what to do, or that he’s touching someone other than me. Two women and one man, and I’m too dominant to share. This is a recipe written for disaster.

“
What’s yours is mine, Kitty Kat,” Master Ez deeply growls, thick with anger.

A
sharp smack, as Master Ez’s palm punishingly connects with my sensitive cunny. A scream rips from my throat. Flames flash across my pussy lips. I look down to make sure I’m not on fire, only to realize I‘m blinded. It hurts so damned bad. Whimpers and swear words roll off my tongue. My fingers start rubbing the ache a way. The sharp stinging pain changes to the sweet edge of pleasure. I almost bring myself.

“Kitty Kat, I think you’re loving the wrong pussy
cat, don’t you?” Master Ez purrs, and I can hear a smile in his voice. His hand replaces mine, and I arch into it with a groan. Moments ago, I feared coming for another human being, now I just want the release from the agonizing pressure.

My fingers slide
over Temptation’s silky skin. I bring her breast to my mouth. Just the thought makes my mouth water. Reality is better than I’d imagined. Her taut little tip presses into my tongue as I suckle around her areola and sink my fangs.

Masculine hands replac
e feminine ones on my breasts, and their fingertips painfully dig into my flesh. A small palm rubs through my slacks, grinding into the nub that’s throbbing for release.

Three… Two… One…

“Come for me,” I demand as my middle finger easily slips inside my submissive’s moist, tight pussy. She’s as soft as moist satin and feverishly hot. I groan from the sensation of her body enveloping my finger. Her orgasming muscles clench around me as she screams an unintelligible word at the ceiling.

Palm grinding deeper
into the apex of my thighs, rubbing the seam of my slacks over my swollen nub, nails digging in to tender flesh, sharp teeth biting my sensitive neck, climaxing pussy clenching around my finger, and it is my sub’s scream that whirls me over the edge.

I
jerkily throw my head back onto Ez’s shoulder. My body seizes, waves rolling down my spine. I drag in a lungful of air preparing for my release. Mid-orgasm, I freeze up. My scream dying on my lips before it’s released… the memories assault me, as they always do. Terror, loss of control, rejection, shame, worthlessness, and agony… the emotions scroll on repeat. Memories flash at random within my rebelling mind.

I’m on the forest floor with a man
hovering above me. Rocks dig into my abraded back and rear, fertilizing the soil with my blood. Small hands on my wrists immobilize me, as a pair of bigger hands traps my ankles. A set of remorseful eyes peer down at me as he uses himself to protect the others. A sadistic cackle echoes throughout the forest. The smell of his rancid breath invades my nostrils. The sound of his labored breathing against my ear as he ruts like an animal. His triumph flavors the air.

I can’t flee the memories as I need, not with Temptation oblivious and Master Ez holding me in my seat. I relive the
worst moment of my life as if it’s happening in my reality. I experience it anew. This is why I stopping feeling… This is why I never allow myself release.

Chapter Ten

I self-soothe by rubbing
another microfiber armrest beneath my fingertips. This time, I’m not visually impaired as I fondle my sofa. I dangle a water bottle from my fingers over the armrest, back and forth, sloshing. The rhythm is as calming as a metronome.

“Are you alright? You haven’t
spoken since I entered the Boss’ office.” Aaron’s worried voice breaks into my zoning out session. This is the tenth time he’s asked me that same exact question, words never deviating.

Aaron’s right, I haven’t spoken si
nce my sub came on my hand. I’d frozen in my chair. I pulled my knees to my chin and tucked my face into them. Ez tried to coax me, and I’d shut him out. I’d blanked my mind and ceased to feel as Ez told Temptation it wasn’t her fault that I reacted that way. I didn’t bother to look up since I couldn’t see. I’d eased my sub’s mind by telling her she was perfect and I was proud of her. I was given space until Aaron came to take me home. That was at least an hour ago.

“I’m
fine, ‘kay.” I try to assuage Aaron’s fears, so that he’ll leave- leave me alone so that I can suffer in silence, suffer in private. It’s what I need. It’s the only way I know how to survive. “I’m sure your boss told you to look after me. I just need a shower and some rest, and then I will be fine.”

“He’s worr
ied about you, ya know? It’s a Dom’s job to provide aftercare when the scene’s finished.” He leans forward to touch me, and then thinks better of it.

“We didn’t do a scene,
” I say in denial. I’m mentally fucked- cerebrally mind fucked. I just need a goddamned screaming, bawling fit in the shower. What doesn’t Aaron understand about that? I have to be alone when it happens, because I can’t have Aaron seeing me as weak.

Aaron
gives me an incredulous look.

“Fine, you win.
Happy?” I fortify my emotions with my bitch-shield. “It was a scene. I didn’t care for my sub and I feel shitty about it. Why should I get care when she didn’t? I’m stronger than her.” Guilt drags me down. “My punishment should be no aftercare. I’m a horrible Domme, and an even worse sub.”

“She did get care from our Master.”
Aaron tries to take my guilt away, but all he accomplishes to do is make me feel even worse. 

“Great, thanks for twisting the knif
e. I guess the only shitty dominant is me. I can’t even take care of her. My Master has to do it for me- pathetic.” I drag the word pathetic out into multiple syllables in a flat voice.

“It was your first sce
ne ever, wasn’t it?” Aaron tries to get me to see reason. His eyes hold pity. I have a laundry list of inadequacies that are racking up right now. No need to answer his question, it was rhetorical. I turn mute.

“Your emotions dropped when your hormones surged, it’s natural. That’s what aftercare is about.”
Aaron uses his hands as he speaks. He looks at me with pity. He also looks at me like I’m wounded, and it pisses me off.

My issues have nothing to do with hormone surges or anything in nature. Terror, pure and simple.
It’s my terrifying past that rears its ugly head. The memories make me relive it every time I try to have an orgasm, every time I close my eyes… or have my eyes open. It’s in every breath I take. There is always something to triggers the memories, no matter how big or small. It could be a sound, a scent, a feeling, or a touch-
bang!
I’m on the forest floor being violated. It’s inescapable, and the only thing I can do is survive.

But Aaron can’t understand this. He’ll think I freaked out because I pussed out on my first scene.
I decide to adopt a new plan, because I can’t tell Aaron the truth.

If
I stop talking, he will leave?

“Com
e over here and let me hold you,” Aaron’s voice is warm and coaxing- proving that he isn’t any more submissive than I am. His arms open in a comforting embrace, beckoning me to crawl in. But I don’t deserve his kindness. I failed tonight.

I drop my gaze and stare at my boot. I
f I don’t see him, is he not here?

“Kat, you’re ac
ting like a child.” His voice holds potency and it pisses me off. My glare hits him full force and he flinches. That’s right- you’re my bitch, not the other way around.

“Le
t me hold you,” he says more forcefully than last time. Aaron has yet to close his outstretched arms.

Shit, I’m not up for
a dominance challenge. I know Aaron wants to help me. Just the thought has tears building in my ducts. If he touches me, I’ll lose it.

“I need a shower. I feel sticky.” It’s not
hard to sound pitiful. I’m not lying about the sticky either. My trousers are saturated from crotch to mid-thigh. My hands are covered in Temptation’s drying juices. I can smell her and it’s humiliating. I’m not ashamed that I pleasured her. I’m ashamed of my reaction to her pleasuring me. Her scent is proof that I freaked out.

I pull a puss-in-boots while wearing my kitten ears. Aaron laughs at my huge eyes and pouty lips. “Go shower, I’ll wait out here.”

***

My body may be clean, but my mind feels filthy.

“Master Ez
was supposed to unlock me,” I say to the reflection of Aaron. He’s standing behind me as we talk through my vanity mirror. I raise my wrist up to emphasize my issue.

“Master
will. He just didn’t get the time.”
With your breakdown
goes without saying.

“I’ll be fine,
” I groan out, hating being coddled. “You can go. I’m gonna go straight to bed. I promise.” I meet Aaron’s eyes through the mirror. His body warms me in comfort, even though he’s inches away.

I try a new position with my gifts in my jewelry box. It’s like a puzzle. How do you make a ma
sk and kitten ears fit into a box- irregular shapes meet a perfect rectangle. I gently shut the lid and smirk at the black and pink ear peeking out from the box. With a shrug I say, “good enough.”

I hold Aaron’s gaze in the mirror. “Why haven’t you left
yet?”

“Let me tuck you in,
” sounds salacious in Aaron’s gravelly deep voice, but he’s looking at me like I’m a misbehaving toddler- disappointed, amused, and tender.

“Seriously?
” hisses out from between my clenched teeth. “I’ve met you twice, and here you are holding me hostage in my own home. Now you want to tuck me in to go night-night like I’m your child. Did I somehow miss the fact that I got a head injury that rendered me unable to crawl into bed unaided? I’ve been doing it for thirty plus years, I’m pretty sure I can manage.” I humor him by crawling into bed.

Aaron
tucks the edges in around me and folds the blankets under my armpits. He manages not to touch me- smart man.

“Now
, I won’t fall out of bed, thanks,” I sarcastically say.

He laughs as he
moves on to my drapes, securely shutting them so that the room is cloaked in darkness.

“Good night, Kat.”
Aaron pleasantly says.

“Good n
ight, Aaron. Thank you,” I sincerely reply, thankful that he’s leaving me alone to break down in peace.

My salutation
earns me a genuine smile- Aaron thinking my thanks was for him taking care of me, not for leaving me the hell alone. He flips my light switch and quickly strides out.

I roll on my left
side as the damn breaks.

Chapter Eleven

“Sonofabitch,” I mumble underneath my breath, as bare feet soundlessly whisper across my carpet. “I’m not wearing a fucking mask. You can just forget about that shit if you know what’s good for ya. Punishment or not, we will throw down,” I seethingly warn, furious that my breakdown is being cut short or that it will soon be witnessed. What do I have to do to get some goddamned privacy in my own home?