Subfrenzy (the Subfrenzied Series) (12 page)

“
We're going to have to order some,” he decided. “I don't see anything here. Not for pain.”

“
Whatever you want...”

“
I like using handcuffs. Your feelings on those?”

“
Preferably not those fuzzy ones.”

“
I should have known.” He put back a pair of them, purple and furry. “Metal.”

“
Yes please, Sir.”

“
That's sexy.”

I
watched him pull a few small boxes off the walls. Vibrating nipple clamps, clothespins that were packaged in different colors, some offering more pinch than others. He picked a thick leather blindfold, a bright red ball-gag.

“
See anything else you want?”

“
No thank you, Sir.” I didn't see anything that I couldn't bring from home. A g-spot toy, the bullet vibrator I'd bought recently, a pair of black handcuffs and some bondage tape I'd remember to give him.

“
Want me to wear anything from here for you?” We passed a few rows of bustiers, costumes, fuzzy transparent skirts, and lingerie sets.

“
I like what you wear,” he replied. “I've got restraints back at my place, a few other things I can use to give you pain. The rest has to wait until we can shop online.”

As
we were checking out, I heard the price and felt my mind numb over.

“
Can I cover half?” I asked, already reaching for my wallet.

“
No. Don't worry about it. Was that why you didn't- One second?” he told the cashier. “You sure there's nothing you want to get?”

“
Yes, I'm sure.”

“
Okay,” he motioned for the attendant to continue. “Sorry about that.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, after we got into his car.

“
You're going to let me use this stuff on you. Thank me later.”

When
we reached a red light, Quinn moved his hand under my skirt. I laughed, bracing too late against the surge of pain. He pinched my right inner thigh, then lower toward my knee. I bit into my lip and tried not to pull myself higher in the seat. The pain continued, sharp and raw until, finally, endurance took over. He changed to my left thigh, but I was relaxed and mentally drifting instead of struggling.

“
How do you feel about knives?” I heard myself ask as the pain cleared.

“
What?” His question echoed the one that was in my head. “Did you say knives?”

“
Um... Yes. Yes, I did.”

“
You don't like gun-play, too, do you?”

“
No. Not at all, Sir.”

“
Okay,” he breathed out slowly. “What do you mean? Like, me holding one against your throat as we fuck, or... I don't know. I've never been asked about knives before.”

“
I'd trust you to. Um, that's one way. I was thinking more along the lines of edge-play, something less risky?” It wasn't
that
dangerous of an idea.
Was it?
I couldn't tell over the sudden, reckless urge to know what that would be like with him.

“
Anything involving knives is risky. Do you want me to draw blood? I'm not sure I'd be comfortable doing that. Yet. Maybe.”

“
I don't need you to draw blood. It's more about the fear, knowing you could. I like the way a blade feels, moving over my skin.”

“
I'm not promising anything for soon.”

“
Whenever you want, Sir, if you want to.”

Quinn
checked his phone and sighed as he parked. “I just need to make one call when we get in. Smoke if you want, but lay on the couch with one of your legs over the back. I'll only be five minutes.”               

* * *

H
is apartment had started feeling familiar. I turned one of the side table lights on and the living room was bathed in soft yellow-white. The couch was black, soft, yet offering grip so I didn't gracelessly slide around. He hadn't told me to get undressed... I laid back in the position he wanted and debated having a cigarette. Staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing, I was startled by the complete mental calm that had taken over. When he came back into the living room, I was in the position he had wanted. My back arched as I struck a quick pose, wrists crossed above my head.

“
What do you want?” he asked, standing in front of me.

“
May I use my mouth to make you come, Sir?”

“
Is that what you want?”

“
Yes please.” A humming sensation started in my lower body and only grew more intense as he undid his pants. All he had to do was look at me with Dominant eyes and I was wet, aching to please him somehow. Places in my leg throbbed faintly from how hard he pinched, other places on my body from different pain.

“
Yes, you may. Make me come,” he said, sitting down in front of me.

“
Laying next to you, or do you want me to kneel in front of you-?”

“
Stay next to me, on your hands and knees.”

I
couldn't help moaning around his cock, wanting him inside of me in a different way. But once I settled into the rhythm he wanted, I forgot about the heat raging through my body.

A quiet Saturday afternoon. And early afternoon, even. Quinn's couch was just wide enough that he could lay on his side with me in front of him. His television was on, split-screened, one side showing financial reports, the other I used for re-runs of
Dexter.
I was more focused on how warm he felt, the way he was pressed against me. It took concentration to make myself breathe normally. If he moved his hand to my inner thigh again, it was possible I'd scream. My eyes closed and I shuddered lightly, settling back against him. I wasn't sure if he knew that his hand on my leg was sending tingling waves of warmth all throughout my lower body.

Trying
to regain some self-control, I leaned my head back onto his shoulder. He trailed his fingers over my side, absently following the curve of my breast. His palm grazed over my nipple, then his hand smoothed firmly down along my side. He squeezed my outer leg and stopped with his fingers curled over my upper thigh. It was a neutral area, I bit into my lower lip and breathed out slowly. Anything to ignore how fast my pulse was racing. Energy coiled tighter each time his fingers stroked back and forth over my skin. It felt really, really good, growing more intense as he reached the hollow of my hipbone. I gasped and grabbed the couch to keep from falling over the side. My hips bucked. I felt him go motionless, my leg kept firmly between his.

“
Sir, please-” I nearly jumped out of my skin when he lightly dragged his nails along the inside of my hipbone.

“
Stay still.”

What
he was doing tickled, but it didn't. I fought to do what he said, frozen on the point of skittering away and keeping myself still.

“
So sensitive, baby.”  He pinched the inside of my thigh. I relaxed into the comforting pain and moaned my appreciation. “What do you want to ask for?”

“
I'm sorry I broke position, Sir.” I didn't resist the pressure when he had me lay on my back.

His hand went to my neck, one
of his legs draped over mine to keep me from moving. Quinn barely touched me with his nails before my back arched and held. They followed the indent of my hipbone, my skin tingling with unbearable sensations. He made patterns, moving his fingers wider apart or closer together, from one side to the other, and so slowly that I started shaking. It felt as though I were levitating, suspended on impossibly strong waves of pleasure. My arms strained backwards until I felt the couch's arm under my hands. I dug my nails into the edge and grit my teeth to keep from begging him to stop.

“
Giving you pain doesn't get this much of a reaction.”

His
hand felt hot, laying flat on my lower stomach. But he gave me the time to calm down and not violently twitch whenever he touched me. He stroked the inside of my thigh. I felt his laughter when I tried to thrust my hips toward him.

“
Will you please fuck me, Sir?” Traces of wicked energy broke free before I could rein them back. “Will you go down on me and give me permission to come, Sir?”

I
saw the excitement that made his eyes hard. It was the right thing to say, but my tone hadn't been soft with the normal levels of submission. At least there hadn't been any sarcasm--?

He
chuckled, quickly gaining control over his amusement. Then he pinched the inside of my thigh, hard. “Just. You. Wait.”

A
line of pain throbbed and stung all along the inside of my legs.

“
Why am I punishing you?”

“
Because that was bad submissive behavior.” I cried out from another burning wave of pain. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Sir!”

He
pinched the inside of my legs again and I broke position without knowing it. Laying on my side, burrowed in against his chest, I breathed raggedly with my eyes closed. Feeling paralyzed with indecision, I glanced up at him, afraid of what I'd see. His hand was still raised from when he had quickly let go of my hair.

I
quickly kissed his chest. “Sir, please- I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-”

“
But you did.”

“
I...” There was no excuse. I stared at him wide-eyed, possibly wild-eyed.

He
moved his hand over my back a calming feeling after the intense pain. I felt him hold me closer, though he didn't say anything until after my body stopped trembling.

“
Are you okay, Clara?”

“
Yes, Sir.”

“
Lay down and spread your legs, wide as you can get them.”

I
bent my knee near the top of his couch, using the cushion as a resting place for my leg. He put two pillows underneath my lower back to raise my hips. My skirt went over the armrest behind him.

“
I'll definitely remember that place on your hips.” My body tensed when he moved his hands over my inner thighs. “Stay still. I want to see what you're wearing.”

Crotchless
panties, something he couldn't help noticing with my legs spread. With my arms above my head, I was all too aware of how exposed I was, my thighs tense no matter how I tried to relax.

“
I was waiting to see when you'd give in.” He laughed quietly, a sound that made me nervous. “I'm not punishing you anymore. Close your eyes.”

That
made the ache I felt deep inside so much worse. One of his arms pushed my hips down to make sure I stayed still. I moaned when he touched me, following the satiny edges of the crotchless panties. My clit throbbed, swollen and wet, pushing toward him when his fingers slid closer. Pleasure burned when he stroked the underside, rubbing in small circles, his thumb drawing wetness up to the tip. I clenched down hard inside when he stopped. It happened again when he smoothly rubbed across the entrance to my body.

“
Oh my god,” I gasped. That had been his tongue creating so much pleasure?

“
Am I hurting you?” His breath was warm on the inside of my thigh.
“You're so tense...”

“
Sorry, I'm sorry, Sir-”

“
Relax, baby. I'm not mad. Close your eyes.”

He
stroked the tip of my clit with slow flicks of his tongue. The short, then longer flashes of pleasure were intense, each one bringing me closer. My head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. It was pleasure that bordered on pain, the slow, drawn-out rise toward orgasm, my body bracing for the final few moments-- Quinn paused just long enough for my body to pull back from the edge.

“
You do like having me go down on you.”

“
Yes! Yes, so much...” My legs tried to close, but he held them open. He slid his tongue down toward the base of my clit, then back up toward the tip, over and over, yet with less pressure each time.

“
Don't move your arms. Put your hands back above your head.”

I
gripped my wrists, doing what he said. Nearly mindless from frustration, I had been about to drag my nails over my sides. I wanted to push my hips toward him, break position just to feel him hold me down. His lips wrapped firmly around my clit and I froze. He sucked gently, stroking the tip with his tongue. Every time he stopped, starting a beat after I expected to feel something, orgasm drifted further away before it rushed back.

“
Please! I'm going to come-”

“
Not until I let you, you're not. Stop moving.”