Bondage Anniversary (Desired Discipline) Page 13

  Her eyes grew wide as he draped the rope between her legs. When he had the length about right, he released it, tied a series of knots, and repositioned it so the ropes were strategically placed. If she moved her torso, one of the knots rubbed against her clitoris. As he turned her toward him, she saw a look of satisfaction stamped across his face.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked, as he ran a finger between her skin and the rope, ensuring her circulation wasn’t compromised.

  “Yes, Sir.” She liked the feel of the rope sliding along her body. It was erotic.

  “Damn, woman, you’re gorgeous. Face away from me with your hands behind your back. I’m going to use a dragonfly sleeve to bind your hands. They’re quite attractive. Perhaps I’ll take some photos and show you.”

  “John would quit for sure if he found them.” She wasn’t sure she wanted pictures taken of her in the nude. Photos in general bothered the hell out of her, unless they were doctored.

  “You might be surprised. John has a few kinks too. He’s one of Mike’s biggest fans. Don’t worry, though, these are for us alone.”

  Laura jumped when the doorbell to their suite rang. Nick chuckled. “That’s dinner. Stay right here, Angel, and I’ll take care of it.” He helped her sit gently on the edge of the bed, grabbed his wallet and closed the bedroom door behind him.

  Sitting naked except for a significant amount of rope binding her arms and torso, Laura second-guessed the intelligence of rope play in a public hotel. It was okay when Nick was with her. She knew he would protect her, but even having him in the other room was too far away. What if there was an emergency? She couldn’t run out into the hallway like this!

  She heard the outer door close and a minute or two later Nick returned.

  “Are you doing okay, Angel?”

  He must have picked up on her body language. She was tense and uncomfortable.

  She giggled, trying to make light of her case of nerves. “Just wondering what would happen if there was a fire or something.”

  Nick pulled a wicked-looking pair of scissors out of his pocket. “These are EMT shears. They can cut through rope like it was butter. I can have you free in seconds flat. I would never risk your safety, Laura. You should know that.”

  “I do, Nick. “ She should have realized he would have planned ahead.

  “Hmm, second-guessing your Dom.” He shook his head in obviously feigned disappointment. “I see I need to step up your training. “

  “Yes, Sir.” If she hadn’t been wet before, she sure was now. She took a moment to examine her situation. Every time she took a breath, she felt the restraint of the ropes around her chest. The bindings wrapping her arms were like a cocoon or a cozy blanket. The idea sounded weird, even to her, but the sentiment was right. Now the rope between her legs was a different feeling entirely. Erotic was the only word that fitted those sensations.

  “Good girl. You make me proud when you accept your punishment without complaint.” He grabbed his gym bag then took her by the arm and led her into the living room.

  The coffee table had been moved and their dinner was laid on it, waiting. Were they going to eat sitting on the floor? How was she supposed to eat with her arms tied behind her? What did this crazy man have planned for her?

  He led her to where the coffee table used to reside. From inside the gym bag he drew a red satin sheet and spread it on the carpet. “Kneel,” he instructed. He kept hold of her, knowing the rope limited her range of movement. “That’s right, Angel. Now we’re going to ease you down on your stomach. Let me do the work.”

  Laura felt one of his arms braced just above her breasts while he positioned her on the satin. The cool, silky cloth felt heavenly against her aroused body. She wiggled a little, enjoying the sensations, until Nick gave her a firm swat on her ass. “No, Laura, you are being punished for doubting me. You will not pleasure yourself.”

  “I was just trying to get comfortable, Sir.” She tried to use her most innocent voice.

  He gave her another firm swat on the ass, rocking her forward, and rubbing the rope against her clit, just once. “Punishment, Laura, doesn’t necessitate comfort.”

  “Sorry, Sir.” She giggled like a schoolgirl, earning her another swat. Again the rope stroked her clitoris. Her ass stung, heat flared through her body and she loved it.

  “I somehow doubt that.”

  Laura loved his ear to ear grin. His monster hard-on was a love of a different sort.

  “You exceed my wildest fantasies, subbie. I’m one lucky man.”

  She wiggled her ass hoping for another swat.

  “Bring your legs up. I’m not fond of the basic hogtie. It doesn’t allow enough access to your pussy and the ropes binding your ankles to your chest or arms, depending on the tie, limit my options. I prefer a modified frog tie.” He wrapped the rope around her thighs and ankles. A swift tug on the ropes let her know they weren’t coming loose on their own.

  Next, Nick took the rope, cinched it and tied it to the karaka, arching her back. “Oh, Angel, I do love seeing you like this. Completely at my mercy. What are your safe words?”

  “Yellow and red, Master.”

  “Good girl. After I check the knots and bindings to make sure it’s safe to keep you in this position for a while, I’m going to get the camera. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Smart ass!” she quipped. Just how long did he plan to keep her like this? Fuck, this was haunted house scary. Scary enough to feel the rush, but safe enough to enjoy it.

  “Oh, such a bratty mouth. I think I have a cure for that.” He took a crop, flogger and short whip and laid them on the floor within her view before disappearing into the bedroom.

  Her clitoris throbbed. She’d been counting on another swat. Holy shit, she was about to get more than she’d bargained for.

  She glanced as he came back into the room carrying her fuck-me pumps and his camera. They had separate cameras. Hers was a simple point and shoot. His had so many functions and features it intimidated her, but he loved it. She didn’t want to know how many hours he’d pored over the manuals learning how to use every option.

  “If we have to run for it, I’d rather have my flats.” At his raised eyebrow, she tried to hide her smile. The ropes wouldn’t allow her enough movement.

  “Oh, Angel. That mouth is going to cause you no end of trouble.” He rummaged around in his bag until he found what he was looking for. “I think this should do the trick, though.” He placed the shoes on her feet then stepped back.

  Apparently, he was pleased with his work. His cock was straining against his leather pants. Her mouth watered as she stared at the handsome sight. She barely kept from begging him to fuck her.

  “Only one thing is missing from this perfect picture.”

  He bent down and fitted the ball gag into her mouth. Taking the straps across her cheeks, he secured it behind her head. “Oh yes, the black straps and red ball match so well. Only one small detail missing.”

  Laura’s eyes nearly doubled in size when she heard Nick close the small padlock in the buckle of the ball gag.

  “Don’t worry, Angel, the key is right here in my pocket. Such perfection!” She watched him checking the settings on the camera before he began taking shots.

  “I want close-ups of the dragonfly sleeves and your pink ass with the rope nestled between your cheeks. Now, for a few with a wider lens to capture the entire scene. Oh, Angel, you do look beautiful.”

  After taking a few shots in silence, Nick finally spoke again. “You need to be able to safe word in case the ropes shift and cut off circulation. If you’ve learnt your lesson, I’ll remove the ball gag.”

  She nodded as best she could. Once he removed it from her mouth, she assured him. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be good.”

  They both knew it was a blatant lie. She liked pushing his buttons and, frankly, she liked his punishments.

  He laid the camera on the couch then sat on the floor in front of her. With his back resting on the couch, his l
egs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, he pulled a plate onto his lap. He took a few bites of steak. “This is good. Are you hungry?”

  Bastard! “Very hungry, Sir, but not for food.” His complacent behavior was killing her. He was confident and arrogant and sexy. She needed him inside her so badly she was ready to beg.

  “Ash, you want some relief. Is that what you’re hungry for?” He continued to eat as if they were at home having a normal meal.

  “Yes, Sir. Please fuck me.” She was so hot. She desperately needed to come.

  “No, Angel, you doubted me. You didn’t trust your Master to see to your needs.” He shook his head. “Such disrespect. I’m afraid I can’t allow such flagrant insolence. I just can’t decide how best to punish you. This may take a while.” He put a piece of steak on his fork and offered it to her. “You’d better eat.”

  There was something truly decadent about lying naked on a satin sheet, bound, unable to move and being fed. She felt completely at his mercy. Her clit was throbbing.

  Nick looked younger, more relaxed than she’d seen him in many years. He looked happy.

  “I chose this flogger because the strands are made from suede. Depending on the purpose, it can be used for both pleasure and discipline.” He ran it gently down her back letting the tails skim across her pussy. She saw him smile as she arched deeper, straining to keep the flogger touching her skin. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a sharp strike against her ass. She loved it.

  “Oh, Nick.” It tingled and stung and she wanted more.

  “Did I give you permission to use my first name?”

  “No, Sir,” she answered, knowing she’d broken a rule.

  He gave her three more in quick succession. “No, I didn’t. Are you trying to usurp my position?”

  “No, Sir.” Being submissive was a total turn-on. She didn’t know why she kept trying to step out of the role. Using his first name gave her equal control, thus diminishing his. She wanted him in charge. She wanted to relinquish her power to him. No, she needed to. Submitting to him gave her the balance she’d been lacking for so long. It made her happy. And dripping wet. And desperate to come.

  “Um, I think you are, Laura. I think you want a pussy Dom that you can walk on. Perhaps you need something to wash down dinner.” Bending down, he used the karaka to hoist her off the floor. “You belong to me. You will do as I say, submit to me in every way, or safe word. I will not allow you to disrespect me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” She began panting, trying to hold off her orgasm. Being carried to the bedroom was causing the rope to stroke her clit. His sudden, firm dominance, the reminder that she was completely in his care, just about sent her over the edge.

  Once he had her on the bed, she waited while he double-checked each binding to make sure none of the rope had twisted or curled. He touched her extremities, probably checking her circulation. The relief in his expression touched her deep inside.

  “Open wide, Laura. You will suck my cock dry, every last drop. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master, please fuck my mouth.”

  With his escaping groan, Laura felt a rush of satisfaction.

  “You’re killing me, woman!” He unlaced his fly. “Open.”

  She loved that he practically shoved his dick down her throat. The rougher he got, the more turned on she became. Using his hands on her shoulders, he controlled the rhythm and depth. He set a brutal pace. Each time he rocked her forward, the rope was stroking her clit.

  Her muscles were tightening. She was ready to come. She felt his orgasm swell. His cock grew and his balls spasmed. As the first jet of hot semen reached her throat, he tugged on the crotch rope, sending them both spiraling into pure bliss.

  Her scream vibrated around his cock.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  As reality came back into focus, she noticed his legs were quivering as he continued to rock in and out of her mouth. Maybe he didn’t notice. It made her happy to have that deep an effect on him.

  She swirled her tongue around his sensitive ridge, savoring the taste of him.

  He fisted her hair and pulled out of her mouth. “You’re going to kill me one of these days, Laura.” With his eyes, he inspected her body. “Laura, are your hands numb? They’re a little pale.”

  She felt him pull on the slip knot, releasing her legs from the karaka. Next, he moved to her arms and released the knot there too.

  He started massaging her arms and legs. So heavenly!

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, I may never be all right again.” She knew she had to start talking or he would freak out. “I never knew it could be like this.”

  “Woman! I swear my heart stopped when you said no. I would never forgive myself if I hurt you.” He may have tried to sound casual, but the truth was clear.

  His anguish gave her courage to be more daring. “The more demanding you are, the hotter I get. I didn’t think it would work that way. And that flogger, oh, my God. I think that’s my new favorite toy. More of that please!”

  “With that smart mouth of yours, I’m pretty sure you’ll be well acquainted with the brush of leather. And it’ll be my pleasure to deliver it to you.” Knowing that he enjoyed it as much as she did gave her a warm feeling all over.

  His hands were busy untying the karaka. Once she was free, he wrapped her in his arms and held her tight. She melted against him, her bones mere putty.

  “I love you, Master.” She snuggled against his chest and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

  * * * *

  The doorbell rang and a persistent knock demanded a response. Looking over at Nick, she knew he was out for the count. She stumbled out of bed, noticing the clock shining five a.m.. Tossing on a robe, she went to the door.

  “Mrs Branson?” a bright-eyed bell clerk asked.

  “Yes,” she growled back. How could anyone look so awake and perky at this hour? It didn’t matter that she needed to be up. Morning people bothered her.

  “Package for you, ma’am, please sign here.” He handed her an electronic pad and a package about a foot square and four inches deep.

  “Who is this from?” she asked, while signing.

  “I’m not sure, ma’am. I was told to deliver it at five a.m. sharp.” He looked at his watch, obviously pleased as punch that he’d followed his instructions to a T.

  She tipped him and shut the door. She looked around and realized Nick must have cleaned up sometime during the night. The living room looked back to normal. She let out a sigh. She was going to miss this suite.

  Nick was sitting up in bed, waiting for her to return. “What have you got there?” he asked.

  “I suspect it’s a gift from my loving husband who chose to ignore our decision to skip the gift giving this year in lieu of our weekend together.”

  “Dom,” he stated proudly, as if that explained everything.

  Laura ripped the paper in a very unladylike fashion. She’d never been one to carefully ease the tape off hoping to keep from ripping the paper. Seriously, it wasn’t like she was ever going to reuse it. What was the point? She opened the box and stared at a delicate Mardi Gras half mask. It was adorned in blues and gold’s. “Oh, Nick, it’s exquisite.” She reverently ran her finger along the mask.

  “Try it on,” he insisted.

  Very carefully, she put it to her face and turned so he could secure it in place. “What do you think?”

  “It’s almost as beautiful as you are, Angel. Try on the rest of it.”

  She looked in the box and noticed there was more. Taking it from the package, she found a corset, thong and a completely sheer skirt. The colors perfectly matched the mask. “What is this about, Nick? Do you want to go to New Orleans?”

  He smiled. “You’d be arrested wearing that on the streets of New Orleans. Well, on second thought, probably not. No, Angel, I was thinking we would attend André’s party at the club.”

  She started to cry. “Oh, Master, I love you so much.�
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  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Mastered: With This Collar

  Sierra Cartwright

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “And now, friends, Lana will offer her submission to her new husband,” Damien Lowell said.

  Julia scowled. Submission?

  Lana and Julia had chatted on the phone earlier in the week to discuss the final wedding plans. Lana had warned that the union would be a bit untraditional. She’d been vague about the details, but she’d made Julia promise to say nothing during the ceremony.

  They’d been friends since they were ten, and there was no way Julia would miss the festivities, even if they were a bit odd.

  Until now, everything had been what she’d expected.

  Lana and Ben were being married at their friend Damien’s mountain home. Damien was also performing the ceremony.

  About two dozen of the couple’s closest friends had gathered in the great room and, at dusk, Lana had descended the stairs of Damien’s picturesque home, carrying a single, beautiful, white rose to match her full-length gown.

  The only gift requested had been a candle. In a romantic gesture, the pair had said they wanted all their friends to light their way into their future.

  As Ben and Lana had joined hands and faced Damien, fat snowflakes had fallen from the cloudy sky. The vows had included the word obey, which was somewhat unusual among their circle of friends. But everything else had been normal. Lana had placed her rose on the mantel behind Damien before she and Ben had exchanged rings.

  “Lana?” Damien prompted.

  “Yes, Sir,” Lana said.

  ‘Sir’? Until tonight, Julia hadn’t met Damien. She knew he was a friend of the groom’s, and he was drop-dead, movie star handsome. The man had rakishly long, dark hair that curled at his nape, and he wore an indefinable air of command as easily as he filled out his charcoal gray suit. But still, for her friend to call him ‘Sir’…?