Restraint (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (14 page)

I
doubt everything he just said, until I remember Master Ez admitting he knows everything, sees everything. I shudder from the thought of Ez knowing my deepest shame. I’ve never spoken of it. Only one person knows my shame, and he’ll never speak of it because it’s his shame too.

“I gave you a pass earlier for swearing and threatening me. Not this time, Kitty Kat. You caused me pain and cursed me. Be a good girl and take your punishment.”
His voice is sharp, broken glass grating down my nerves. He’s angry and disappointed in me.

Master Ez’s
hands close over my upper-arms and lift me a foot off the bed. He abruptly releases his hold, dropping me. I plop on the bed and bounce. The strangeness breaks me out of my melancholy and I huff a laugh of surprise.

“Take off your shorts,” he orders.
“You may leave on your shirt for comfort.”

Mind whirling, still
processing the request, my shorts are roughly torn from my body. Stunned into immobility, I freeze.

“Snap
out of it,” Master Ez yells into my face, hot breath scorching my flesh. “Think!” He claps his hands in front of my nose. “When I tell you to do something, do it! Don’t process, just do.” Ez’s hands shake sense into me.

“Um…
what would you like me to do? You already ripped my shorts off me,” I don’t mean to sound sarcastic, but, naturally, it comes out that way. I’m positive that sarcasm is a huge disrespect where Master Ez is concerned. I try to watch his body language for cues on what’s coming next, but it’s too dark.

“Get under the covers and get comfortable. Now!” He
impatiently snaps. His mercurial moods are dizzying. One moment he is laughing and joking, the next he’s trying to connect on a soul level, and then he turns into a raging lunatic that leaves you feeling cold.

Master Ez: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

I scramble as fast as I can across the bed, trying to ignore my bare ass flashing in the air. I yank my covers to hide my nakedness, embarrassed by the fact that Ez is the first man to see my parts since that day… and it’s not the best looking ass, either. Flabby and flat do not make a Master proud or aroused.

After I get settled and calmed down, Master
Ez crawls into bed next to me, and tucks the blankets around us. “Touch yourself.” I jolt at the husky, lust-filled command that sounds way too provocative and intimate in the dark of my bedroom.

“What?” My eyes bug out of my face.

“Are you Twit or Kitty Kat?” he maliciously twists the words. “It’s your choice.”

“I don’t understand, Master,” I say in confusion
, hating this side Master Ez. He’s scary, and it makes me feel like a complete and utter failure

“A twit asks questions
,” he sharply says. “My Kitty Kat instantly reacts to her master’s commands.”

I
hesitantly skate my fingertips across my opposite arm, not wanting to touch myself, but not wanting to disappoint or disobey Master Ez, either.

“Twit!
You know exactly what I mean, stop being so literal.” He curses underneath his breath-
Fucking submissives always have to be so goddamned literal. It makes me want to strangle them.
The words and the tone of voice scream that he isn’t opposed to strangulation.

“I don’t like you calling me twit,
” I whine, realizing all too late that calling him out will undoubtedly anger him more.

“Then d
on’t act like one,” he flatly says like I’m a fucking moron- easy fix, don’t want to be a twit, then don’t behave like a twit. “This is your punishment, not a negotiation,” he growls in a tone that freezes me.

Instantly m
y hand glides down my stomach. I no longer hesitate to obey his commands, because I fear that the punishment will be far worse than just touching my own flesh. My wrist rests on my pubic mound, fingers hovering above the clit that lies below. No matter how hard I try, I can’t force my fingertip down. I know that if I touch myself in Master Ez’s presence, I will climax. My fear of remembering the past if far greater than my fear of Master Ez’s punishments... I just can’t stay even if I remember, I’ll fracture all apart.

“I don’t want to. Why are you doing this?”
I plead, sounding like a child lost in the dark.

“Remember
, it’s not what you want, it’s what you need. You must overcome this obstacle to live a fulfilling life. Either do it now, while it’s just the privacy of you and me, or I will force you to do it in front of a crowd at Restraint. It’s your choice, Twit.”

I start to cry
, hiccupping on my sobs. Ez caresses my face, palming my cheek. The touch is a silent order as much as it’s a comfort. It’s what a master’s touch does- lures you from your comfort zone, but offers you the support to hurdle over the edge into the dark unknown.

“Katya, what’
s your worst fear about this?” He coaxes in a tender tone, enticing me to spill secrets that he said he already knows.

“I…” I hiccup. “It makes the memories come back
. Every time I get close to orgasm, I remember it in vivid detail. I… haven’t wanted to remember… I can’t remember it all… it hurts way too much… I don’t want it to ruin me… I haven’t orgasmed since… I just know… I just know that if I orgasm I will remember everything,” I whisper in the dark, my voice breaking in terror. “It’s the memory of the last time I climaxed that haunts me.”

“
You haven’t since…” he trails off like he knows what I’m talking about. He slides his lips against mine, barely forming a whisper of a kiss. “I don’t want to punish you harshly. Please don’t force me,” he pleads. “You won’t find the crowd pleasant. I can do the touching if that’s easier,” he suggests in a tone that is thick with hunger.

My fingertips
immediately react. Master Ez’s lips stretch into a wide smile across mine. Too late, I realize he manipulated me into touching myself. He knew fear would move my hand faster than an order to obey. Slowly I swirl my fingertip around my clit. I’m unpracticed and unsure at touching myself. I’ve pleasured a few women, so I know in theory what should feel good and what shouldn’t. But I’m dry, terror removing any threat of arousal. I try to turn my mind off and fall into my master’s scent, the sound of his breathing, the warm and comforting presence at my side, but I fail. I fail miserably. My hand mimics the motions, creating no results. I feel nothing- no pleasure, no pain- I’m numb… and ashamed.

Master Ez senses my discomfort
, and it makes me feel even more inadequate. “It’s just you and me in this moment of time.” Ez’s words whisper across my lips, and then he kisses me. Our mouths fuse and our tongues mingle. His fingers grip my breast painfully, tugging on my nipple. The pain puts me in the moment, blanking my mind to everything but sensation.

My fingertip
s mirror the movement of his tongue, lapping at my mouth. Casting smooth circles with my fingertips, I rub my hardening clit. I gasp in surprise, amazed that this man pushes away all of my self-doubt, the memories of the past, the pain and numbness, and I feel aroused and hungry for his touch. My need plateaus as his finger joins mine, dancing on my skin.

The ache in my breast increases as his nails break skin
, palm bruisingly squeezing the mound of my breast. The pain elevates the pleasure, and buries all thought that isn’t surrounded around the man playing my body as a finely tuned instrument. Master Ez’s hungry lips travel down my neck, nipping at my flesh. A new level of agony joins the ecstasy- the sharp bite of teeth setting into my throat.

A thumb joins his
forefinger. My nub is tugged between the pair of experienced fingertips. A sharp pinch has me muttering unintelligible words of a person possessed. The pressure builds in anticipation of its release. I whimper, not wanting release, but craving it even more.

Master Ez’s s
trong fingers enter me as deeply as they can go, slickly sliding into a body that hasn’t been invaded in over a decade. Up until this very moment, penetration brought about the panic. Even a trip to the doctor for my annual examination or the use of tampons would cause anxiety in my wounded mind. But Master Ez’s fingers stretch me, explore me, impale me, and deeply thrust inside of me… and I don’t freak out… the memories don’t assault me.

I fracture.

The hot palm grinding against my screaming clit while two fingers fuck me is my ultimate undoing. My teeth sink deep into Ez’s shoulder, muffling the sound I so desperately try to smother. Master’s pain-filled grunt extends my climax, heightens it. It’s so strong it hurts. It hurts as much as I’m hurting him. Muscles clench under my skin. Heat flashes as blood rushes in my veins. Electrical surges rush up my spine and radiate throughout my body.

I’ve only had one orgasm in my entire life, and it was nothing like this. The first was agonizing shame, but the pleasure was subtle, like lapping water on a shore. The orgasm that ignites in my body is a firestorm of need. Once unbridled, I will need to feed the flames- I will crave the agonizing pleasure of release forever more.

I reach down to stop Ez from moving his hand, only to realize I am rocking on his palm. I still my body to stop the pleasurable torture. “No, you’re still coming. Ride it out,” gasps in my ear. His palm rubs faster, his fingers flicking deep inside.

“Oh, please
, Master, stop. I can’t take anymore.” The pressure’s still building, refusing to release. “Let me please you instead,” I breathlessly beg.

“You can and you will. Come for
me, Katya,” he commands.

Two fingers press in
just the right spot. It feels phenomenal to the point of pain. I clench so hard I’m surprised he can still move his hand within me. The fingers that were twisting my nipple capture my clit instead, and pinch. That is the last drip in my cup, and it shatters- taking me with it.

My teeth pierce Master Ez’s
shoulder again. His flesh is sucked into my mouth, and it blocks the scream that tries to escape. I almost choke myself in an attempt to stifle my cries. My body moves on its own accord: undulating in a wave, with jerky stops and starts. My eyes roll back into my head and I’m not sure if they will ever come down again. A torrent, a forceful flood pours a hot wash from between my thighs, saturating everything.

My spirit hovers overhead
, glowing in the warmth of release. I transform into a non-corporeal being and stare down at my body floating in a pool of its own pleasure. My gasp of shock ricochets around my bedroom as Ez leans down and suckles my clit in silent apology for his brutality. His soft tongue thoroughly tastes me, lapping at all the moisture that still flows from my body.

“Arungh,” flows from my mouth
, because my mind no longer processes words. Kind hands pick me up and place me on the dry side of the bed. I stare up at Master Ez in wonder, and for the first time in my life, I want to make love to someone. I want to show him how much he is appreciated. I want to connect instead of endure. I never thought I would feel this deep need to connect with another human being, because I feared the memories would resurface. Master Ez just proved I have nothing to fear with him, that he will protect me from the pain.

“That was perfect, it was better than I imagined.” His eyes are alight with satisfaction. I hadn’t realized how rewarding it was to give until I brought Temptation. The act of giving sometimes is better than a climax
, and it’s proof positive by the gleam in Ez’s eyes.

“But you didn’t get anything
out of it.” I groggily mutter the words, wondering if he enjoys giving as much as I do. Then selfishness slams into me, I didn’t take care of my master’s needs.

“Your pleasure is mine, Katya. I came with you.”
He murmurs in a sleepily, yet content voice.

“I never touched you, and I know both
of your hands were on me.” I call him out.

“Different things get people off. While I love physical gratification, I am a
Dom. Our thrill is from working our sub through their needs. Plus, I love your bite. Your bites drove me over the edge.” A violent tremor rolls through Master Ez as he slowly speaks the words.

Ez clasps my hand and presses it to
the front of his pajama bottoms. I can feel the dampness from his release seeping through the thin fabric. The feel of his waning arousal beneath my hand, and the knowledge that I gave my Master pleasure, causes an intense aftershock to rock my body. Ez kisses me while I ride it out.

Master Ez painstakingly
rearranges me on the bed since my body feels like loose gelatin. He cuddles me up against his side, arms loosely embracing me. I sigh and allow his warmth to seep into my cold body.

“I’ll stay for as long as it’s dark. I’ve dreamt about this for
so long.” Another quiver rolls through his body.

“Thank you
,” I breathe out. “I don’t know if I can do this again without freaking first. I’ll apologize in advance. That is if you want to do this again,” I self-consciously mumble. An embarrassed flush tinges my cheeks.

I’m not sure if this i
s part of the game. As my master, Ez is trying to heal me- heal the wounds I deeply hide. But that doesn’t mean he wants me on a different level. He never once wanted my touch in return. My insecurities are rising, and I scream at them to shut the fuck up. My contentment quiets my fears.