Perfect Alignment (27 page)

Going behind her, he pulled the chair over so that it faced the couch, then mounted the vibrator. He let the controller dangle to the side of the seat.

“Emma, come over here.”

He positioned her in front of the chair and fingered her pussy. Wet, but not wet enough to take the dildo. Taking out the lube, he offered it to her and gestured to the chair. “You’ll have to do it yourself.”

A quick nod was her only response before she turned and squeezed a line of lube on the rubber-like shaft. He didn’t think she’d put enough on when she turned to him, so he raised his eyebrows. She met his eyes steadily. Quickly, he fingered her, found her wetter than before. Holding back a smile, he nodded.

“Good. Use your good hand to brace yourself on the chair’s arms, and sit.”

She swallowed, and her cheek jerked, probably annoyed as well as tickled by the little bit of drool that escaped. Oh yeah, she’d hate that.

With one hand gripping the chair and the other steadying the toy, she slowly lowered herself. He listened to her breathing, judging her progress by that rather than trying to watch. He was already rock hard and needed to give himself some time to cool off, or he’d blow before he had a chance to finish what he wanted to start.

She raised up a bit, a slight slurping sound letting him know, then continued down. When she took a heavy breath through her nose, he checked. She was flush with the seat.

“Go ahead, move around a bit. Get comfortable.”

After a minute she stopped adjusting her seat, nodded at him.

“Now stand up.”

She blinked, but didn’t hesitate. He handed her the lube again, along with the butt plug. “Can you do it yourself?”

Immediately she nodded, though she didn’t look too happy about it. It could have been that she didn’t want the plug, but he suspected it was that she wanted him involved, wanted him warming her up, easing the toy inside her as he’d done before. As he would do again. But not for punishment.

She put plenty of lube on the head and shaft and seemed to be unsure the best way to go about it. Amused but careful not to show it, he simply watched. Finally she squatted nearly to the floor, and reached around with her left hand to nudge the plug against her hole. It didn’t go well, at first, but she took a deep breath and started to accept the toy into herself.

When the forward motion faltered, she tried again.

“No,” he said. “Pull it out a bit, ease it back in. Tease yourself with it. I said I wouldn’t be hurting you; you aren’t allowed to, either.”

She nodded her understanding, did as he’d instructed. Soon her asshole was stuffed full and she rose, turned back to face him. Her face was flushed and shiny with sweat, her eyes studying him. Looking for approval, he guessed. Keeping his face as expressionless as possible, he gestured behind her.

“Do you need more lube to sit down?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Check.”

Her eyes shuttered. He watched her face instead of her fingers. When she opened them again, nodded, he looked down. Her fingers were slick.

“All right. Sit.”

She was slower now, her channel tighter. Her breathing increased and he listened carefully to ensure she was getting plenty of air. Once she was steady, he strapped her right arm to the chair, putting one cuff just below her elbow and the other halfway to her wrist. He wanted her to feel secure, controlled, and he wanted to make sure she couldn’t move the wrist and accidentally cause herself pain. He strapped her other wrist and both ankles, making sure the tie was in her hand and that she had room to drop it. When he was done, he stepped back, examining her critically. Her face was still flushed, her nipples once again hard points. Which reminded him. He grabbed the nipple clamps and, without further preparation, put them on. A sharp inhale was her only response.

Her hands gripped the arms, but not too tightly and she wasn’t pulling against the bonds. Her eyes were steady on his. Perfect. He grabbed the remote and took a seat on the couch. Their knees were almost touching and he could smell her arousal. So fucking perfect.

Leaning forward, he brushed through her curls and made sure the tickler part of the dildo was positioned correctly. “Tilt your hips toward me a little bit,” he instructed. “There, stop. Is the plug secure?”

She nodded.

With no further warning, he thumbed the remote and turned on the vibrator. The remote was something he’d studied carefully on the web before making his purchase. With it, he could control all the parts of the vibrator separately, as well as turning on a preset program that would cycle through various settings. For now, he activated only the part that would torment her clit.

Her eyes closed against the sensations, but otherwise she remained still. Until she heard the snap of the lube lid as he opened it. Her gaze focused in on his hands, but he watched her face. Without needing to look, he poured a dollop onto his left hand, leaving the right clean to work the remote control. Her eyes widened when he stroked his cock, eased his hand over the shaft, then the head, spreading the lube. Slowly her forehead crinkled up.

Damn, the gag made it harder to read her expressions. No wonder he rarely used them. But he’d needed something she didn’t particularly like without delving into anything she actively disliked. He wanted her uncomfortable, not unhappy. He figured she’d worried he might intend to replace the plug with himself, then realized he wouldn’t have tied her to the chair for that. No matter, she’d figure things out soon enough.

He didn’t usually masturbate in front of women. Generally he appreciated a much more hands-on approach. But there was something delectable about watching the cream trickle down Emma’s thigh, her gaze riveted to his hand on his dick, her breasts heaving, setting the colorful little beads attached to the clamps into motion. Knowing that she wanted to touch, but couldn’t. Her fingers clenched against the chair’s arms, going white. Not because she wanted to get away, he knew. But because she wanted to touch. Wanted it to be her fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft, squeezing tightly, then loosening up to cup his balls.

“Emma, unclench your right hand.”

She did so immediately, then blinked as she realized what she'd been doing. She gave him a look that he could interpret as apologetic, even through the gag.

“I wish they were your fingers.”

Her eyes flashed. The heat he saw there, the want. Oh yeah, she’d think twice before disobeying him again.

“They’re smaller, more delicate. But you always remember that and squeeze me hard when I need it. I like the contrast.” He ran this thumb and forefinger from the base to the head, then circled the crown. “If you were touching me right now, my hands would be free to play with you. Fondle those breasts, tease those nipples.” Needy sounds escaped from her throat.

His right hand fingered the remote next to his thigh where she couldn’t see it. He pressed a button to make the dildo shaft rotate inside her. She moaned, closed her eyes, then immediately popped them open. Returned her gaze to his hand sliding languidly over his cock.

“You won’t come, will you, Emma? Not without permission. My permission. Right?”

She shook her head slowly, without moving her eyes.

“If you did, I’d have to come up with a whole different punishment and that would annoy me.” He added more lube, watching her carefully. When her breathing went choppy and her eyes a bit panicky, he turned off the vibrator completely. She moaned, but relaxed a tiny bit.

“If you were over here, instead of in that chair, you could put your sweet lips around me. I do love those lips. I’d much rather see them stretched over my dick than that gag. How about you? Would you rather have your face stuffed with that rubber ball or me?”

She shook her head. Nodded. Whimpered.

“Ah well. I guess you’ll have to tell me some other time.” He used a different button to turn the rotating beads embedded in the base of the dildo’s shaft on. She jerked, huffed a breath out through her nose. Her fingers were now clenching and unclenching against the chairs arms, and he realized the rhythm matched that of his hand currently wrapped around his cock.

“And that tongue. It wasn’t nice of you to tease me with your tongue earlier and then deny me the use of it now.”

Her eyes were sorrowful as they met his.

“I love it when that sweet tongue tries to wrap itself all the way around me. Slides up and down…” He twisted his grip, brought his thumb over the head and teased the slit there. With his other hand, he reactivated the clit tickler. The whiny buzz almost drowned out the long whimper from Emma. He picked up the bottle of lube, leaned over and dropped a bit into her curls to slide down to where rubber met the bundle of nerves the vibe was torturing.

When a tear trickled out, he checked her over. “Are you going to come?” he asked.

She shook her head fiercely. Then waggled her head. He had to bite his tongue not to smile. He turned off the tickler, turned the rotating shaft back on and upped the speed on the beads. God, he loved this thing. When she didn’t relax at all, he double-checked. “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

He lightened his grip on himself. He probably could have come just from looking at her, without touching himself at all. But that wouldn’t have had quite the same impact. “I wish I could bury myself in your cunt. I wish it was my fingers stuffed up your ass. You look pretty with my toys filling you up, but you feel better wrapped around me.”

Another couple of tears. He resisted the urge to lick them off her face.

“I’m going to have to come on my own now. Do you think that’s fair?”

She shook her head.

His gaze roamed over her. The sweat at her hairline, the crinkles in her forehead, the slow stream of tears leaking from her eyes, her lips stretched wide over the gag. The pulse pounding in her throat, her nipples tight and dark and oh, so delicious looking. Her stomach muscles jerked and tightened, the blue vibrator working her relentlessly. Her arms and legs, muscles quivering. All of it for him.

He pumped his dick, watched her face, her eyes, used the remote to reengage the tickler. As she fought the sensations, fought the need to release, fought to obey him, he came. He pointed his cock at his own stomach so the fluid hit only him, and she fought. When she was as close to the edge as he judged she could take, he punched the remote, turned everything off.

In no hurry, he stayed slumped against the couch, semen drying against his skin. Emma’s head hung down as she continued to struggle against her body’s needs. Slowly, very slowly, her breathing evened out, her fingers loosened their grip and her shoulders relaxed. Damn, she was beautiful.

Emma’s insides still throbbed with the need to come, but it was manageable. Unhurried, Drew began to release her bonds. Her hands fell to her thighs and she waited patiently while he unbuckled the horrible gag. He smoothed her hair down and used his thumbs to massage the joints of her jaw. It felt wonderful.

After a minute, he gripped her elbows and helped her to stand up, free of the blasted vibrator. And to think she used to love the one she had that was similar. She clutched her hands to his sweaty chest as he reached behind her and eased the plug free. Dropping her head to his shoulder, she breathed through the riot of sensations. He didn’t rush her, rubbed her back softly until she raised her head.

“Let’s go get cleaned up.”

Slowly, as the water sluiced over her, each of them cleaning themselves, though bumping often in the smallish shower, she came back to herself. She’d been punished before. Been “tortured” before. But nothing had ever felt like
that
. She’d never felt genuine sorrow for having failed her Dom before. It horrified her that she’d cried, though he hadn’t seemed to mind. At least he’d known she wasn’t in pain or trying to get him to free her. No, she’d just been so deep in the emotions, so sorry for not trusting him, for making him have to punish her. And afraid that she would fail him again by coming without his permission.

When they’d dried off, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. She felt…subdued. Not in a negative way, but in the sense that she didn’t really feel like engaging her brain. He handed her one of her ponytail holders.

“Okay, missy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He brushed a finger over her shoulder. “Still horny?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He pulled on his jeans and her heart fell with the sudden realization that the punishment might not actually be over. She should just sit back and wait, but Drew usually didn't mind when she asked questions if she wasn't sure what he wanted.

“Drew, are you…is the punishment…umm, I guess, is the scene over?”

He pinched her chin between his thumb and fingers. “Yes, Emma, the punishment is over. No, Emma, we’re not done playing.” He leaned in, kissed her softly, then let go and stood back. “Go put your outfit back on.”

****

Departing the plane, Emma was wiped. Drew had kept her up deliciously late, then woken her up with sweet caresses. And before he’d sent her off to security, he’d wrapped her in his arms and told her he would miss her. She’d almost cried, but managed not to. Thankfully. She knew a lot of it was emotion still running high from the night before. But she’d squeezed him tightly and simply said, “Me too.”

Napping on airplanes wasn’t in her skill set, so she read a book she’d been saving from her favorite romantic suspense author and tried not to let her thoughts run away from her. She mostly succeeded. Her father picked her up from the airport, giving her a big hug. She gave him an extra squeeze. Somehow it always surprised her how much she missed him, her mother, her home. She’d never really had a bout of homesickness, and figured that was because she had always known this would be temporary. Always known she’d be coming back, and was enjoying the time away more for the absolute certainty that home would be there waiting for her to return to.

When they drove up to the house she’d grown up in, her mother didn’t wait for her to come in, but came out the door and was halfway to the car by the time Emma got out. Her mother’s hug was even tighter than either her father or Drew’s had been, and she suspected her mom might be letting a few tears loose while Emma couldn’t see. By the time she stepped back, though, she was beaming.