Authors: Sindra van Yssel
“You
take your clothes off right here, Kat. I told you. You’re not wearing clothes
in my home.
With the possible exception of that corset.
When you’re done, come join me in the shower.” He let go and walked away.
She
looked forward to wearing the corset again, but the shower sounded heavenly.
* * * *
The
problem with sex in the shower is that while everything seemed so very nice and
slippery, the fact was that water tended to wash away both a woman’s natural
lubricant and any artificial ones. So Brett didn’t try to fuck her in the
shower, even though his balls were aching. It had taken a great deal of
willpower to avoid taking her the night before, but he could see that she had
been exhausted. He’d put on a calm act while making her talk about the ways he
could use her. Inside he wasn’t calm at all. He made a mental note to do each
and every one of those things to her before the week was through, but tonight
he had other plans. He was going to do exactly as he wished, and he suspected
she’d enjoy it as well.
His
cock rubbed against the crease of her ass while he soaped her breasts, moved
down to her stomach, and then cleaned her pussy. Her soap-slippery breasts
brushed against his chest when she turned and returned the favor, rubbing
lather on his cock with slow strokes that had very little to do with getting
him clean.
He
decided a detour on the way to his plan wasn’t so bad after all.
He
slipped a finger in her ass, and she squealed. Her hand tightened pleasurably
on his shaft.
“You
do that, and I’m going to come on you,” he warned her.
“It
washes off. More’s the pity,” she told him.
“I’ll
still do what I was planning after we get out.”
“It’s
not up to me, is it?”
“No.
It’s not. Finish me off.”
Her
eyes glittered, and she looked down. Her hand sped up. He could feel the
tension in his cock build as she pleasured him. It occurred to him then that he
hadn’t been quite this way with any woman for a very long time, if ever. Yes,
he’d been pleasured, but the quid pro quo had always been quite clear. He
wiggled his finger and watched her twitch, but it didn’t shake her focus on
what she was doing.
He
could feel his juices surging for release, and then he came. She watched his
cock spurt over her hand and her belly with rapt intensity. She reached down
and rubbed it into her stomach, making circles with her hand. Then she looked
up, shyly. He wondered if her fans could even imagine that look on her
face—vulnerable, yet happy.
He
was falling in love. He knew it, now, but he still didn’t want to say it. Not
until the week was up, at least. Too many things could happen, and telling her
he loved her could make some of those things worse instead of better. He pulled
his finger out and let it wash clean.
“The
water softens your skin for the rope I’m going to tie around you, little
kitty.”
“Oh.
Yes, Master.” Her eyes widened. “Yes. Why is it all I want to say around you is
yes?”
“Is
that a good feeling?”
“It’s
the best.”
“Then
we don’t have to question it. I’ll make sure it’s always safe to say.”
“That
sounds absolutely lovely.”
They
finished cleaning and toweled each other off. Then he led her to the bedroom.
He got out a long coil of navy-blue rope. He’d bought it while she was
practicing with Cindy, after seeing how well the blue corset suited her.
“Why
do you want to tie me up, Master? I won’t go anyplace.” Her eyes were wide and
innocent, but he suspected there might be a trace of a knowing smile on her
lips.
“Maybe
I don’t—” He was about to say
trust you
,
and he would have meant it simply as a tease, but given what they’d been through,
it might not be taken as lightly as he meant it. She’d told some fibs, but she
hadn’t told one about Angus when it mattered, not quite, anyway. As a result,
he did trust her. “Care about that,” he finished. “I enjoy you not being able
to move.
The rope pressing into your skin.
The pattern of blue over your pale flesh.”
“It’s
not that pale,” she protested. “I get out in the sun every once in a while.”
“It’s
lovely, Katrina.” Her skin was very light, definitely giving the lie to the
idea that people from California all came with tans. “Lie down on the bed.
Faceup
.”
She
nodded and complied, one leg bent so her knee was up. “I—
You’re
looking at me. Are you sure I can’t roll over?”
“So
you don’t have to see me looking at you?”
“Yes.”
“This
is all about me, remember? And I like looking.” He chuckled as a thought struck
him.
“Although it is kind of amazing that a woman who is
perfectly happy being onstage and being the total focus of hundreds of people
can be shy because one man is watching her.”
“I’m
not naked onstage.”
“You’re
not ashamed of your body.”
“No.”
She bit her lip. “Maybe no one looks at me quite the way you do. Not even in a
club, and I’ve been, well, naked in a club.
With other men.”
He
felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. “How do I look at you?”
“Like
you’re thinking about all the nasty things you’re going to do to me, and you’re
absolutely sure you’re going to get to do them.
Like you own
me.”
“For a week.”
“Yes.”
She shivered.
“You cold?”
“Not at all.”
He
smiled to himself. In that case, he’d enjoy her shiver. He draped some rope
over her thigh, below her bent knee, so she could see it. “See how lovely that
looks against your skin?”
She
took a deep breath in. “Yes, Master.”
“Give
me your wrists.”
She
held her hands up, pressing her forearms together. He wrapped the rope around
them several times, giving it enough thickness that it wouldn’t bite into her
wrists when he tightened the rope. Then he cinched them. There was an
extrasharp
pair of surgical scissors in the bag under his
bed, perfect for cutting rope off a distressed slave girl if there wasn’t time
to untie her. He pulled the bag out, found the scissors in the pocket where it
always was in case he needed it in a hurry, and cut the rope short. Usually, he
liked to have his rope precut, so that he’d have the right length for whatever
he needed, but he hadn’t had time to prepare the blue properly. By the time he
was done, it would be measured perfectly for her body.
“It’s
tight,” she said.
“Do
you have good feeling in your hands?” Too tight could cut off circulation. He
wasn’t going to leave it up to her to decide how tight they should be, but he
would make sure it didn’t hurt her either.
She
smiled. “Yes. I just meant that I can’t pull them apart.”
“That
was the idea, yes.” He wrapped some rope around her forearms, tied it off, and
cut the remnant off again. “Show me how well you can lift your arms with them
like that.”
She
lifted them. She couldn’t move them off the center line of her body very well,
and her upper arms had been resting on her breasts and obstructing his view.
She couldn’t get them very high, but she could at least get them off her chest.
It was good enough for what he had in mind.
He
took hold of her shoulders and lifted her up into a sitting position. She might
have been able to sit without help, but he didn’t regard watching her do
sit-ups as particularly erotic. While she watched he measured out the amount of
rope he would need and then doubled it up. He sat down on the bed next to her
and wrapped a double width of rope around her torso under her breasts. Then he
wrapped it around again, this time on top of her breasts. He tied it tight and
cut off the extra.
“Playing with my breasts again.
You know that—”
He
raised his eyebrows. “I know what?”
“Never mind.
It’s not about me. It’s about you.”
She closed her eyes, and her face relaxed into a smile. She was a very
submissive woman underneath all the bluster and the “do me” attitude she’d had
when he first met her.
He
stood up and measured out some more rope. Again, he doubled it up and then
looped it behind her neck. Her eyes bolted open.
“Don’t
worry,” he told her. “I’ll keep you safe. There won’t be anything pressing
against the front of your neck, ever.”
She
nodded. “I knew that. I know I’m safe with you. I just—”
“Trust
doesn’t come easy.”
She
shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Trust
when you can. You don’t need to force it. And you’re not bad for not trusting.
Just never let it stop you from telling me the truth. I will keep you safe.”
She
nodded and smiled. “I know it.
In my head.
Please go
on.”
He
draped the rope down her body and then looped each strand through the ropes
above and below her breasts, cinching the horizontal ropes with the vertical
ones. The rope below her breasts pushed into them from below and the other from
above, squeezing them. He stopped to brush her nipples with his fingers and was
rewarded with a delicious shiver. Given her sensitivity, he wasn’t going to
wrap the rope around each breast; it might be too much for her. This was
enough. He tied another knot in the two vertical strands, this time even with
her belly
button,
because he liked the way it looked.
“Comfortable?”
She
giggled. “That’s not the word I’d use. But I’m fine, Master.”
“What
word would you use?” He tied another knot in the rope, farther down.
“Um.
Turned on.
A bit
anxious.
But fine, really.
Fine.
Fine
fine
fine
.”
“You
certainly are.” He kissed her, and while she melted into his kiss, he lifted
her bottom and tossed the rope under her, between her legs. It would flick
against her pussy and her ass like a flogger, he knew, and she shook in his
arms when it struck.
“I
wasn’t expecting that,” she said.
“I
didn’t want you to.”
“I’m
used to working a scene out beforehand.
Step by step.”
“Do
you prefer that?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He was used to it too. You had to do it that way, when you didn’t know your
partner.
Or if you didn’t trust them if things got
off-kilter.
He was getting to know Katrina quite well, however, and he
was enjoying it. He was looking forward to knowing her even better. He let her
go and got on the bed behind her.
Then
he pulled the rope tight, knowing that the knot he’d tied in it would rest
quite nicely on her clit.
Another shiver.
God, he
loved seeing that. He wondered if she knew she was doing it or how much her
body gave her away. He wanted to see more of her reactions, because there was a
raw honesty in them, and she was so beautiful.
He
pawed through his bag and found what he wanted. He tied another knot in the
rope and then let it lie there on the bed. Then he poured plenty of lube on to
a slender black butt plug. It would be cool and shocking to her, but he wanted
another one of those shivers. He pulled her cheeks apart and then slid the plug
into her ass.
He
wasn’t disappointed by her reaction, although it was more like a jump than a
shiver.
The
problem with a slender plug was that there was a tendency for them to come out
before it was time, which he didn’t find sexy, and he suspected Katrina would
find embarrassing. He pulled the rope between her cheeks, and as planned, the
knot rested against the flange at the base of the plug. He tugged it taut and
tied it around the ropes that crossed her back. The plug wasn’t going anywhere.
He
got one more thing out of his bag, put it out of her vision, and then walked
around in front of her. He was hard now, and he saw her gaze go to his cock.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her. “And I think you look even better tied up.”
Her arms had relaxed and were resting on her chest. Even though it was the
natural place for them, the way her elbows covered her nipples gave her an
almost demure appearance—as demure as anyone could look tied up and naked.
“Thank
you.”
“And helpless.
Although that bit is
mostly for you.”
She
blinked.
And then shrieked as he picked her up and pulled her
legs out from under her, so that she was lying on her back again,
faceup
.
Then she noticed the vibrator lying next to
her.
“Spread
your legs, darling.”
She
hesitated a moment, then bent her knees, and only then followed direction. She
looked ever so
fuckable
like that, although the way
he had her tied, his cock would chafe against the rope if he fucked her. He’d
known that. He had other things in mind. He grabbed the vibrator, a big purple
thing with five speeds and bumps all over its surface. It had been recommended
to him by a previous lover, but he wasn’t going to tell Katrina that unless she
asked. He was starting to think that every past experience in his life, every
other woman, was somehow all about preparing him for Katrina. They were the
homework, and she was the final exam.
The one who mattered.