Authors: Frances Stockton
“Oh no, no,” she muttered, beginning to understand what was
about to happen. “Ethan! Please don’t hurt me.”
“Never. I made this myself, modifying it so that it fits
perfectly to the metal cuff centered at your pussy. The cuff already spreads
you some, but this will be even better.”
“Why would you do that? Spreaders can be like ten inches
wide.”
“How is it you know that?” Ethan demanded.
“Cassie pointed me to some websites and information on the
internet. She didn’t want me to get hurt once I got over my temper tantrum and
accepted you.”
“Cassie was right to do that for you. This will open your
pretty cunt wide, leaving me to do what I must to teach you a lesson. It won’t
be terribly painful, but it will pinch the way the clamps are doing to your
tits and clit.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, Master. I won’t disobey you again.”
“Sweet, sweet submissive, yes, you will test me again. It is
part of your nature to push me so that I continue to prove my mettle. Isn’t
that what you want?”
“I want you.”
“I know you do. Do I continue or do you back down?”
“I’m not backing down from anything.” Morgan tossed her
head, pretending bravery when she was very nervous.
Her clit and nipples were already throbbing with need. She
had no idea what would happen if Ethan put that pussy spreader on her. Knowing
that Ethan created his own smaller and less frightening version of a spreader
touched her heart, calming her down.
She trusted Ethan. She was in the most vulnerable of
positions. To do otherwise could cause unnecessary pain or injury.
With little ado, he walked to the end of the table. Morgan lifted
her head enough to watch as he drew up a barstool and took a seat, his eyes
centered on her pussy.
“Have you any idea how much I want to fuck you?” he asked.
“Probably as much as I want you to fuck me.”
“Then you know how much. You’re all swollen and open and
soaking wet. I’m salivating with the need to lick you up.”
“I’m not objecting.”
Sadly, he didn’t tongue her slit. He set aside his delicate
torture device and propped himself on his elbow. He stayed just like that,
studying her, learning her.
“Why did you shave, sub?”
“To please you, Master.”
“As much as I like how you look, I didn’t ask this of you.”
“Are you not pleased?”
“It doesn’t matter. Had you asked, I would have shaven your
pubic area for you or used depilatory cream to avoid razor burn.”
Razor burn, oh no, she hadn’t even thought of that. She’d
used an aloe cream combination in her toiletries after she’d shaved and rinsed
herself clean.
“Fortunately, there’s no redness or nicks from my razor
blade. That is what you used, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Ethan ran his finger up and down her swollen, throbbing
clit, intentionally tugging on the clamp. Intense pleasure rocketed through her
pussy, forcing her to cry out in lust.
“Oh hell yeah,” she cried out again, his continued sensual
assault ratcheting up her desire so fast, she was sure he’d let her orgasm.
He didn’t. He drew his finger down, spearing her entrance.
The cuff placed precisely around that spot seemed to grow more solid, thicker
and harder while Ethan slowly finger-fucked her pussy.
He added a second finger, only this time she heard the tear
of foil. Wanting to ask what he was doing, Morgan bit her lip. If she waited,
she’d find out the answer.
Oil drizzled over her vaginal lips and along her clitoris,
dripping and mingling with her arousal. Ethan bent lower, blowing warm air upon
her mons. Heat radiated through her, becoming hotter with each and every
breath.
“Ethan, please!”
“Please what, honey?”
“Fuck me!”
“No,” he told her, withdrawing his fingers completely to
pick up the spreader. He showed it to her from where he sat. “Ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do this,” he reassured.
“Then do it,” she agreed.
The oil he’d slathered over her slit continued to send
delicious heat up and down delicate nerves, making her far more aware of the
heat and the bite of the clamp already on her clitoris.
“It’ll be okay, Morgan. If it hurts too much, all you need
to do is tell me so. I’ve no wish to hurt you.”
Morgan bit her lip again, refusing to deny him the right to
apply that small spreader to her labia. Though she was nervous, her submissive
curiosity got the better of her.
How much could the four tiny clamps hurt, and why was the
idea of having her vaginal lips spread out for sensual torment so
nerve-racking?
Ethan concentrated on her pussy once again. As he’d done
with the candles, he placed each clamp one by one. It stung. However, the
heated oil dimmed the discomfort.
She could take this! She wasn’t exactly sure how Ethan
secured the spreader. She couldn’t quite see what he was doing down there. Four
clamps were in place. There was a tug, then another and yet another.
Despite the sting, the more he tugged, the more she liked
it. The invisible cord that pulled taut from her navel to her clit vibrated
with tension, making her think she might climax.
Her vaginal opening was spread open wider than a blossoming
flower, leaving her feeling so open and vulnerable that all she wanted in
return was Ethan’s cock filling her up and relieving her of the haunting desire
that built, refusing to crest.
“Pretty as a picture,” Ethan pronounced.
“Can you fuck me with that thing on?”
“Sure I can. Will I do that? I haven’t decided.”
“So hot, so fucking hot down there!” she shouted suddenly,
overwhelmed by the intensity of arousal flooding her senses.
“I applied arousal fluid to your labia and clit. It will
increase the intensity of your orgasms.”
“Not necessary, Master. I’m so turned-on right now, I might
scream.”
“You’ve been screaming.”
“I have?” She had? “Let me come. Need to come.”
“Not yet.”
“It might happen anyway. I’ve no willpower.”
“You are not to come without permission. Let the pleasure
build and roll through you. Don’t rush, not tonight.”
Morgan grunted. Easy for him to say that, Ethan wasn’t the
one with his pussy spread open for whatever he wanted. He wasn’t the one whose
quim was slowly turning into a fiery, wanton, creaming entity of desire.
And he wasn’t strapped to a goddamn table!
Ethan stood up, coming to stand by her side. He took the
time to check her wrists and rub her joints and shoulders, then studied her
face as thoroughly as he’d studied her pussy.
“You still with me, honey?”
“Right here and not going anywhere.”
“In a little while, you’re going to be soaring so high,
you’ll swear you went into orbit.”
“You’re quite confident.”
“As your Master, yes I am.” The hood of his cloak had been
down when he first came back to the table.
For reasons she didn’t quite understand, Ethan dug into the
drawer and pulled out a leather mask. He put it on, reminding her of a blond
Zorro.
Morgan was dying to ask why he’d hidden his face. Then
thought perhaps it was for protection. Protection from what was the question.
He reached back and flicked his hood into place, covering
his head and shadowing his face from view. Feeling his eyes on her, Morgan was
strangely more aware of him and her predicament than if he she could see him
entirely.
“Let’s see what trouble we can get into, shall we?” he
suggested, as if she had a choice.
The thing of it was she did have a choice. She didn’t have
to remain here. Calling a halt to all save sex was within her power.
Rather than retreating from what frightened her, and she was
scared, she knew she was safe because her Master was Ethan. She’d never wanted
him so much, and that was saying a hell of a lot.
A buzz of sensation coursed through her veins, tingling
along her nerve endings, making her ten times more aware of the clamps, the
throbbing, the need and the pleasure-pain dance of eroticism that had only just
begun.
She clearly didn’t expect Ethan to do nothing more than kiss
her. One minute he was standing there. The next, he was leaning down and
placing his mouth upon hers, gently whispering words and kisses.
Again she tried to grab him up close. Cuffs forbid it.
“Don’t fight, honey. Let go, all you need to do is feel.” He
kept murmuring reassurances, kept kissing her, making her dizzy with it.
His tongue lapped her lower lip, then her top lip. She
became aware of the texture and warmth of his tongue, his taste and his smell.
In the back of her mind, she was aware of peanut butter and bananas, fresh
bread, hints of cinnamon and iced tea.
But what she tasted was Ethan Maddox, her lover, her Master.
His tongue slipped between her lips, showing no fear that she might bite. She
didn’t dare! If she bit him again, he’d slow down further.
Or worse, he’d stop!
Vaguely aware that something heavy straddled her thighs,
Morgan realized that the weight was Ethan. He’d climbed back up on the table
and resumed the position he’d taken when she bit him to get him to react.
Oh baby, he was so fucking sexy!
When he was ready, he sat back on his haunches. He frowned.
She wasn’t sure why. Then she watched him reach out to move her braid off her
shoulder.
With that, he knelt over her again, letting her feel the
drag of his heavy codpiece as he maneuvered his hips in an enticing circle. The
clit and pussy clamps tugged on her flesh, seeming to spread her wider. The
cuff-ring remained snug to her entrance.
“Fuck me, Master,” she begged.
“You’re not ready.”
Damn it, she was so freakin’ ready she wanted to scream it
to all of Boston.
“Discipline comes in stages, love. This is only the
beginning.”
“I was afraid of that,” she said.
“Don’t be afraid,” he urged, bringing something else out.
In his hand was a feathered whip. It was short, looked
harmless and incredibly erotic.
“That drawer of yours is magic,” she commented.
“There are several drawers. Close your eyes for me.”
She closed her eyes as told. Ever so gently, he began to
paint her face with the feathers. There was no pain, no fear, nothing but soft
caresses. The whip whispered over her skin, down her chin and all over her
throat and chest.
“Open your eyes now,” Ethan said, dragging the whip to her
nipples. With utmost care, he flicked his wrist, causing the tiny, petal-soft
tails to brush her breasts and nipples with delicious teasing strokes.
Gasping at how nice and soft the feathers felt compared to
the throbbing pressure on her nipples from the clamps, Morgan welcomed the
alternate sensations of softness and stinging. Ethan paused and removed the
clamps one at a time, then resumed using the feather whip.
The rush of blood flow to her nipples amped up her internal
buzz, the ever-soft strokes of a feathered whip calmed her, centered her. Ethan
paused in his ministrations, leaned over her and sucked her left nipple into
his mouth, pulling on her flesh so strongly that he almost lifted her off the
table.
“Ethan! Oh fuck,” she called out, unsure if she was loud or
not.
Ethan chuckled against her breast, licking and lapping at
her engorged flesh. “That’s it, honey. Let out the naughty girl I love so
much.”
“Thought I was supposed to be perfectly obedient,” she
grumbled.
“Don’t you know that the naughty sub gets disciplined? Isn’t
this what you wanted all day? Especially after the scene we engaged in with
Alex and Ryan.”
“You said you weren’t mad about that.”
“I’m not mad. Still doesn’t mean you weren’t naughty for
staring at Ryan’s huge cock. Did you even notice he was collared? Or that he
has a tattoo on his hip?”
“Collared? But I thought he was all Dom and Alex switches
and becomes the submissive in that relationship.”
“My guess would be that they collared each other so that
their power is shared. Have no doubt though, more often than not, Doc is the
more dominant.”
“That’s amazing.”
“That’s what I want with you, a shared commitment between
Master and sub, neither one of us more important than the other.”
“I’ve never felt less important than you. If anything, I
feel treasured and safe.”
“Excellent. Now where was I?”
“Sucking my aching nipple,” she answered.
“That bad, huh?”
“Really bad.”
“Guess I’ll have to fuck them to get you off.”
Morgan scowled at him. Ethan leaned back, unbuckled the
codpiece and cast it off the table. Still in his mask and cloak, he looked
masterful and incredibly hot. His muscles were taut and ripped. His cock was
huge and dripping with pre-cum.
Then he removed the cuffs from her breasts, setting them
aside before scooting up her body. He reattached the clamps until they pinched
enough to keep her constantly stimulated and palmed her breasts, pressing them
together.
She envied him the ability to move freely because all she
could do was let him fit his cock to the narrow valley between her breasts and
thrust. It was wildly erotic, incredibly frustrating and sexy to feel his cock
sliding in and out of the valley he’d created.
She didn’t know if it was the tit fuck or the clamps on her
nipples, clit and pussy or arousal oil, but hell if she wasn’t about to come
with the force of a lightning storm.
“Have to come, Master. Let me, please,” she begged, wanting
it. Needing it!
“You may come when I do,” he granted with a smugness that
damn near made her try to bite him if any part of him were close enough to her
mouth.
Since she couldn’t be bratty, she gave into the multiple
sensations of being fucked without even being penetrated. Her pussy was empty
and open and unfulfilled. But it didn’t matter to her happy clitoris.