Temporary Master (9 page)

“That’s
right, experience the energies binding us. It’s an extension of assurance as
you entrust your very breath to me.”

She
nodded slowly, giving more over to him until nothing else mattered but
breathing and merely being an extension of him. They sat there for however long
before he finally deemed them ready for the next step.

“Good,
now staying relaxed, I want you to accustom yourself to my touch, Sabella. As a
nawashi
I’ll be touching you everywhere as I use the rope to bind you.”

Even
with his warning, she still jumped when his hands drifted up and over her chest
as he used the leverage of his arms to guide hers above her head. Her nipples
tightened against the silk and lace of her bra.

“Shh,
don’t tense up. There’s nothing sexual about this touch.” He ran his hands back
down her arms and when she jerked again as his fingers tickled, he gave a small
sigh. “Do I need to tie you up, little one?”

“I’m
sorry, Sir. It tickles.” She wasn’t about to tell him how arousing it was to
feel his hands against her body.
Even if the man does have
a boner.

A
low rumble escaped his chest. “Good to know for future reference...” His touch
moved down her sides to stroke the outside of her thighs. As they moved over to
the inside seam of her jeans, inches from her mound, she trembled. “…but
something tells me you find this just as arousing as I do.” His hands left her
and she wanted to cry out in protest.

“I…Sir…”
She gasped as his hands returned with a length of rope. Pulled taut between his
hands, he dragged the length of the hemp across her chest and down her stomach.
The coarse fibers rubbing against her skin distracted her. The coil in her womb
tightened in response. She could only pray he didn’t smell her arousal. It was
bad enough he’d guessed…

“There’s
nothing wrong with finding this arousing.” His breath tickled her ear. “A true
nawa
jujun
experiences both harmony and desire at the hands of her
nawashi.”
The
rope slipped lower over her hips, but was now dulled by the thick denim of her
jeans. She needed to feel the rope against skin, not just the pressure through
her jeans.

“Please…”
her plea came out choked as the rope moved down her thighs.

“Please
what, Sabella?” He was now cradling her in his arms as they were extended as
far as they could go.

“I…need…the
rope…Sir.” She squirmed in his embrace as the rope moved back up to her waist
before returning to its downward motion, teasing her mercilessly with the
possibilities. This is what she’d been looking for when she’d asked to be
bound.

“You
have it, little one,” he soothed. “I’m not taking it away.”

“I
need it against my skin. Can I take off my jeans…please?” If she hadn’t been
out of her mind with need, she’d have been appalled by her request. But
obviously Ethan wasn’t, because he lifted his arms enough she could maneuver.

“Go
ahead.”

Her
hand eagerly reached for the fastening on her jeans.

Holding
his arms and the rope away from his little submissive’s body, Ethan hissed as
she wiggled free of the denim. He hadn’t been totally surprised when she’d
asked for their removal. After experiencing how Sabella reacted to the rope
against her stomach, he realized he’d found himself a true
nawa jujun —
a
rope bottom. But it didn’t stop his cock from aching for release from his
pants.

After
she kicked free of her jeans, she settled back against him in her original
position, her pantie-clad bottom resting against his groin as she knelt with
her legs widespread. He only hoped his control was what he thought it was.

“Shall
we continue?” He prayed she would misinterpret the roughness in his voice as
anything but desire.

“Y
..es…
Sir.”

He
was happy to hear that her voice wasn’t very steady either. This was affecting
them both more than either one had probably expected. Lowering his arms, he
pressed the hemp against her skin, just hard enough to make an impression, but
not hard enough to scrape her delicate skin raw. As he rubbed the rope across
her thighs, a low moan passed her parted lips.

“Oh…yes.”
She lifted her hands behind her head, searching for him or something to cling
to, as she experienced the feel of rope against her skin.

“It’s
okay, little one. Hang on to me.” He released one end of the rope and guided
one of her arms to loop around his neck. She lifted her other arm without his
assistance. The move arched her back and her breasts stood out in clear relief.
He smoothed the rope lower towards her knees before slowly drawing it back up
towards her chest. The need to see the hemp criss-crossing over her tempting
mounds was urgent, but was she ready for the next step?

He
got his answer as he eased the rope up and over her nipples, their dark tips
distended and clearly visible through the lace of her bra. She whimpered,
pushing up against the hemp.

“Are
you ready for more, Sabella?” He resisted the urge to nip at her shoulder when
she squirmed against him.

“Yes,
Sir.
Please?”

Her
arms tightened before releasing him at his command. He let the rope drop away,
before urging her to her feet. “Stand for inspection.”

“Yes,
Sir.”
She moved so
her legs were a shoulder length apart, turned her hip slightly towards him,
bent her knees slightly and turned her head to the left, as she raised her arms
above her head with her wrists crossed. The absence of a collar hit him hard
but he reined in the need to see leather gracing her neck. This was training,
not a true scene, no matter what his mind or body wanted.

“Very
good.”
Walking around
her, he adjusted her stance in the way he needed, before uncrossing her wrists.
“I’m going to
used
a binding called
kotobu ryo
tekubi,
or the captive tie.” He stepped in front of her, winding the hemp
up with a few twists of his hands. Catching her gaze with his, he tried to
judge her state. She was still aroused as
  was
he
but her eyes were clear. But he still had to know. “What level are you at,
little one?”

“Green,
Sir.”

He
nodded as he brushed the coiled rope across her upper chest. “Good.
And your safeword again?”

“Dobby.”
Her chest rose sharply when he
flicked one nipple with the hemp.

“Very
good.
Now we’re
going to start out with the
ryo tekubi
portion of the tie.” He stepped
around her. “It’s a basic tie that’ll allow me to restrain you at the wrists
while still leaving the rest of your body open to my touch.” Looping the hemp,
he gathered her wrists together. Winding the rope around them, he stopped to
press on her fingers, nodding when they went white and then back to their
normal pink color. “How’s that feel, Sabella?
Too tight?
Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”

“Good,
Sir.” Her fingers wiggled. “Not too tight.”

“Great.”
Letting the length of the hemp dangle down her back, he traced down her spine
until his hand rested just below her bra line. Using his thumb to hold the rope
in place, he took the end and wrapped it around the front of her. Catching it
on the other side of her body, he drew it back around to meet his thumb,
effectively caging her torso. Pulling it snug, he looped the rope through
itself where his thumb was executing a simple overhand knot and tying it off.
“Too tight?”
He pulled lightly on the binding to check for
pinching.

“No,
Sir.” Her breathing was a bit erratic.

He
paused. “You need to relax. Match my breathing.” He tugged her back against
him, ignoring the brush of rope against his skin. He was starting to see why
she’d said she was still looking for more out of her experiences with bondage.
She became aroused to the point she lost focus on what she wanted.

“What?”

“Shhh,
feel my breathing, Sabella. Match it and we’ll continue.”

He
could feel her struggle with his command, but after several false starts she
finally relaxed into his embrace, her breathing once more steady. “Good girl.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before stepping back cautiously. Waiting
to make sure she was okay before they began again, he asked again. “What level
are you at?”

“Green,
Sir.”

He
was just reaching for the ends of the rope when she spoke again. “Thank you for
your patience with this slave, Sir. But could you please scratch under the
knot? It itches.”

A
chuckle escaped him. “Of course, since you asked so nicely.” Running his nails
under the knot, he scratched her lightly.

She
gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re
welcome.” Then snagging the rope with one hand, he crouched down behind her. He
pushed it through the V of her legs, and judged the distance before pulling it
back out. Placing a knot he was sure would rub over her clit, he threaded it
back through and grabbed the end from the other side. Rising, he circled to the
front of her, drawing up the rope until it was resting firmly against the damp
material of her panties and level with the rope above her waist. When it
settled against the most sensitive spot on a woman’s body, she moaned softly.
“Shhh, relax. I know it feels good, but we aren’t in any rush.”

She
whimpered but nodded.
“Yes, Sir.”

Threading
it through the horizontal rope bisecting her torso, he tied it off with another
overhand knot. Then he tested for tightness before he began wrapping the excess
back down the vertical portion of the rope. He had to hide his smile as she
swayed towards him, each time he wrapped the strand and teased her clit. When
it was finally done, he tucked the strand behind the main rope and removed his
hands. “Look at me, Sabella.”

Her
eyes, looking so large in her flushed face, stared up at him in a dazed
wonderment. She wasn’t in subspace but was highly aroused. He could see the
path to sending her there, but he wasn’t going to go there yet. He didn’t trust
his control if he sent her tumbling into that sacred place during their first
time. But he could do something else though, he decided. Turning her, he faced
her towards the wall of mirrors. “Look at how beautiful you are.” Running his
hands down her arms, he traced a meandering path across her torso until his
hands rested on her hips.
“Absolutely exquisite.”

Her
breath came a bit faster. “Shh, relax. You’re tense again. I want to see
nothing but relaxation in your frame. Don’t fight the ropes or your body’s
reaction to them. Savor both.” His hands glided back up, skimming over the rope
and satiny skin until he was able to cup her lace covered breasts. Supporting
their weight with the palms of his hands, he watched in the mirror as her
cheeks pinked and the already tight buds at the centers became even more
pronounced under the material. He idly wondered how she reacted to clamps on
those sensitive tips. Would she come from the bite of the clamps alone? Or
would she cry and beg for more? He could feel his cock leaving a smear of
precum against the front of his pants. He knew his body. It was time to finish
this before he ended up knocking her to the ground, tearing aside her flimsy
excuses of underwear, ripping open his pants and sinking deep inside her wet
heat.

Clearing
his throat, he started the cool down process by kissing the crown of her head,
speaking softly as he loosened the ropes. He was urging her to come back down.
Even aroused as she was, with the correct aftercare, he was certain he could
send her away with a smile.

* * * *

Sabella
wasn’t smiling as she stomped inside of her father’s apartment. She was horny
and on edge. If she’d had a membership at a local club she’d have gone there,
found the first available Dom and thrown herself at his feet, begging him to
fuck her. But she was a different sub than she’d been before Louis. She wasn’t
going to let her libido control her actions, or blind
her
to the fact Ethan had manipulated not only her body but her emotions as well.
She’d never felt as close to a Dom as she had under his hands. And it pissed
her off that, instead of taking the scene to its inevitable conclusion, he’d
backed off and brought her back down.

“Is
that you, Bella-mía?” The sound of her dad’s voice warned her she needed to get
control of her feelings before he figured out there was something wrong.

“Yes,
Daddy.”
She set her
purse down on the kitchen table. “It’s just been a long day. The kids were
rowdy at work, and the appointment I had tonight didn’t go quite as planned…”
Reaching into the fridge she went to pull out a soda when she found a beer.
Dang
it, Daddy, you know you can’t have beer anymore.
Pressing her head to the
cool surface of the fridge door, she counted to ten, twice, before finally
turning to confront her dad who was now standing in the entryway to the
kitchen. He glanced at the beer in her hand and crossed his arms over his chest
as if daring her to say anything.