A bathroom, another bedroom. “Keep going,” he said. “You’ll know my room when you find it.”
She gave a little sob and scurried back out to the main room. A door beside the kitchen opened into a hall and mudroom which led to the back door. She tried to think about architecture and where his bedroom might be hiding, since all the ground floor space seemed accounted for. She scurried down the hall—spank, spank, spank!—to find a narrow door tucked in the back. She opened it and found an equally narrow flight of stairs.
She sat back on her heels and gave him a pleading look. If she crawled all the way up those stairs, getting whacked the whole way, and didn’t find his bedroom at the top, she couldn’t handle it.
“What did I tell you? I said to crawl, not sit.” He pushed down her shoulders with one hand, and lifted her ass with the other. “I said to find my bedroom.” He punctuated every other word with a crisp stroke of the belt. Sara cringed, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out.
“I’m sorry, Master. Is it upstairs?”
“You’ll have to crawl up and see.”
She ducked her head and started up the stairs. Between her burning ass, the narrow walls, the darkness, and her clumsy cringing, she could barely crawl, but she couldn’t stop because he was coming behind her. Whack! “Please,” she cried halfway up. “Please, Master.”
“Hush.”
When she got to the top she let out another cry, this time a cry of relief. Jason flicked on a light and she crawled into the room that was unmistakably his. The bed was polished brass, a poster bed with countless attachment points hidden in the design. The headboard was padded with black leather, the footboard padded leather as well, perfect bending-over height. There was other furniture she took in with a glance. Chests, a desk, a sofa near the window that looked fortuitously padded as well. She waited on the floor at his feet, aware that she’d been too loud and too slow, and not very slavelike in her crawling. Her ass throbbed all over. She wanted to rub and soothe it but she kept her hands clenched beside her.
“Sit up. Arch your back. Spread your legs,” he said, exasperated. “I shouldn’t have to say it every time.”
She quickly assumed the pose he’d prodded her into downstairs.
“Look at me.”
Gah, yes, she was supposed to look at him. She wanted to look at him, but in some way she was afraid to, because he had so much power in these games, and she had none. Her ass ached, prickly warm against her feet. She spread her legs wide, knowing he’d see her wet pussy lips, her engorged clit.
“What did I tell you?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “What did I say about being quiet? Even up here, they can hear you through the air ducts.”
She blinked up at him, trying not to fixate on his thrusting, bobbing cock. “I’m sorry, Master. It hurt.”
“Yes, I intended it to hurt, and I intended you to be quiet. Maybe we need to put something in that mouth.” He sauntered over to his nightstand. By the time he returned, he was wearing a rubber. “Kneel up and open your lips.”
She did as he asked, but even full height, on her knees, he had to bend to her a little. “Shorty,” he murmured, not unkindly, and then he put his thumbs in her mouth and opened her lips even wider, and thrust inside. He’d done this to her before, at the hotel. Like so many things he did, she found it both horrible and exciting. She choked, gagging on latex and solid flesh.
“I’m sorry, Master,” she gasped, pulling back for air.
“No talking,” he replied, and then he was moving inside her again, easing past her lips and prodding the back of her throat. She gagged again, but not so badly this time. Be his slave. Bring him pleasure. She tried to withstand his deepening thrusts but she couldn’t breathe, and every other stroke, she gagged. She brought her hands up to stop him.
“No, don’t do that.” He took her hands and forced them behind her back. “Leave them there.”
“Yes, Master,” she sobbed past the massive erection in her mouth. But as soon as he started thrusting again she instinctively brought her hands up. If only he’d let her control the depth of his entry!
He made an angry sound and picked up the belt. She flinched as he gave her a couple good wallops on her sore backside, but somehow managed not to cry out. “Put your hands behind you,” he ordered. She obeyed, shuddering as he wrapped the belt around her wrists and then around her waist. “That will hold them until you get better at self control. Or deep throating. Or both.”
“I’ll get better, Master. I promise.”
Now that her hands were out of commission, she realized she was crying, really crying, and she had no way to wipe away her tears. Jason took her chin in his fingers and used his other hand to brush the head of his cock over her lips. She wished they didn’t have to use condoms. She wished she could satisfy him the way he wanted. Someday she’d be able to.
“Calm down,” he said, wiping away a tear. “Nothing good comes of panicking. You must know that from trapeze.”
“Yes, Master. I just...I want to do it right. I want to please you.”
“Then let’s practice. But you have to stay calm. I won’t hurt you and I won’t kill you. I won’t suffocate you. Your job is to open to me, to open your body for my cock, wherever I want to put it. You understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And to never push me away. You don’t decide where my cock goes, do you?”
“No, Master.”
He let go of her face and she opened her mouth. “Calm, calm, calm,” he said as he pressed between her lips. “Good girl.”
She found it much easier to take him deep when she relaxed. When she gagged, he rubbed her shoulder until she composed herself, and then he pressed forward a bit more. And she could do it. He was right, there wasn’t any need to panic. He pressed into her five, six, seven more times and each time it was a little less scary, even if she coughed and drooled all over her chest.
“I know, baby, it’s awful,” he said as he swiped away her trails of saliva. He tipped her head back while his cock was buried deep, and asked, “Can you be quiet now?”
She nodded since she couldn’t talk.
“We’ll see,” he replied, which sounded ominous. He withdrew from her mouth and she knelt where she was, gasping for breath, enjoying the feeling of having her airway back. Jason crossed the room and got something from a drawer, something jingly and metallic. Nipple clamps. Although she quailed inside, she resumed the position he preferred, legs spread, back arched.
He knelt down in front of her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you know, you arched your back more when you saw the clamps? I like that about you.”
She stared into his gorgeous eyes. “I’m scared, though.”
“You like being scared, don’t you? Are you okay? Your wrists? Your arms going numb? You want a safe word?”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I trust you.”
“Trapezists. Reckless to the core.” He flicked the first clamp open and closed, then traced it around her nipple’s taut point. “Remember. Silence.”
“Yes, Master.” She gritted her teeth and braced.
“Look at me while I put them on.”
“Yes, Master.” She studied his dusky eyelashes, his sculptured jaw line. When the pain bloomed, his gaze met hers and she could see him basking in her anguish.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I don’t know why I like to hurt you so much. Perhaps because you bear it for me. For my pleasure.”
Her eyes flickered with tears, not from the pain of the other clamp—although that hurt like crazy—but from the realization that he knew her so well. This odd connection between them, this understanding, it went deeper than she’d realized at first. When their eyes locked again, she could see he felt the same. How? Why? How long? She didn’t know, but in this moment, she would have given him anything he asked.
“Come on,” he said, twitching the chain between the clamps. “Over to the bed.”
&n
bsp; It was hard to rise with her nipples tugged painfully and her hands cinched behind her back, but she managed as best she could. He led her across the room as if the chain was a leash, and each time he tweaked it the pain in her nipples sharpened, but she didn’t make a sound. He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her astride his lap, his sheathed erection jutting up between the two of them. “Do you want my cock inside you, baby? Are you turned on?” He reached between her legs to grope her. She was so wet, she could hear the sound of his fingers parting her. She wanted him so badly, she would have fought through a dozen brick walls to get to him. But he was here, right here.
He eased back across the starched, down-filled white comforter, pulling her with him. His hair obscured his features as he leaned forward to grasp her hips, and then he lowered her onto his thick cock. As wet as she was, it was still a slow process to take him all the way inside. She felt impaled, helpless.
He jerked the nipple clamps. “What a view. Move on me. Ride me.” He flicked the chain like it was a horse’s reins and she rode him as best she could without her arms to help. His head fell back and he spread out his arms, flexing his muscles. He looked like an angel...and a devil. She squeezed on him and he bucked his hips up against her clit.
“Oh, God,” he sighed. “You feel wonderful.”
He started working her hips in a circle, manipulating her so that even though she was on top, she had no control. He filled her again and again, tweaking the nipple clamps when her moans got too loud. It was so hard to be quiet. With the pain she could concentrate, call on her self-discipline to help her, but in this pleasure, she was losing all control.
“Oh, it feels...so...good...”
Undressing him, scurrying to find his bedroom, taking his cock deep in her throat, all of that was foreplay, all of it culminating in this, the joining of their straining bodies. She wanted to come but she was afraid to come because she might turn inside out, just as he’d warned. She felt inside out already, like everything inside her was bared to his gaze.
Her cries got louder the closer she got to orgasm. If she could have, she would have muffled them with her hands, but they were trapped behind her back by his belt. She rode his cock faster and faster, seeking fulfillment or pain, whatever he wanted, because that’s what she wanted. She arched toward him when he pulled the clamps, offering her torment for his pleasure.