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Understanding and believing were two different things. She was helpless, the blindfold underscoring it. No man had ever been so trustworthy that she'd completely rely on him for her care. But she called on what he'd said would help reassure her. "Yes, Master."
"Good girl." He teased her lips with his thumb, stroked it down her throat. "Say it again."
"Master."
She wasn't sure why it was so calming to say it, but he was right; it was. Maybe the word was a trigger, reminding her of the things she'd filed in her subconscious about him. She'd watched him with Troy, seen Troy's absolute faith when submitting to him. She'd probably been able to come as far as the blindfold without freaking out specifically because of seeing that, proof that he knew what he was doing.
Then there was Alice's letter. Trust Logan. She trusted Alice's love for her.
"All right. I'm attaching clips to your labia." He made sure they clamped over the inner and outer area. To do that, he had to grip her securely, and having her legs held open while he handled her with such possessive familiarity resulted in a fluid response he stopped to collect on his fingers.
"You taste like the best kind of sin, Madison."
She went hot all over, thinking of him putting his fingers in his mouth. The wires attached to the clips were light lines of pressure on her thighs. The clips held her firmly, but not in an uncomfortable way. Her fingers curled in her bonds, her palms beginning to moisten again. "You're sure it doesn't hurt?"
"I've done it to myself. On some of my most sensitive parts." His voice held humor. "To be sure. The initial static startles you, but it's because you're anticipating shock. Another day I'll use a violet wand on you. You'll enjoy the way the color plays over your skin."
Her tongue was dry from repeated swallowing. She rubbed her lips together, found no moisture there. A moment later, when he put a wet, folded paper towel to them, a hard twist happened below her breastbone. He'd said he'd pay attention, that her care was the most important thing to her. But those were words. This wasn't.
"Part your lips," he ordered, and when she did, he dripped some cool water onto her tongue, ran the towel over her lips, dampening them. "There you go."
He returned to what he was doing and she listened to him shift, felt him make adjustments to the clips, doing other things she could only imagine.
"When you were talking about your ultimate fantasy . . ." she ventured, "what is it you really want? From . . . a submissive. The one you want to keep. The only one you'll let in your bed."
She shouldn't have put it that way, because it suggested that she was paying way too much attention to everything he said and did. He didn't respond right away, though. She waited, wondering if he would. She also wondered at how she waited on him, what her docility said about her, her acceptance of his total control over her, even this conversation. Before she walked into Logan's store, she'd rejected giving up control of anything. Even now, she was uncomfortably aware that if anyone other than Logan were trying this with her, she'd zap them with one of those wands he mentioned on full voltage. Just sitting here, she'd run this scenario through her mind with every one of her past relationships, even a few fantasy men, acquaintances she'd seen at a distance, as well as some popular actors. Nope, none of them worked.
It was him. Only him. She was smart enough to know that was the scariest thing about all of this, no matter her body's reaction to electrodes or being hung by her heels from the ceiling light. She had no confidence in her judgment. Just because he was living up to everything she wanted from a man, things she hadn't even known she wanted--or yes, maybe she had, deep down, she'd admit that--didn't mean that was what Logan was.
"I'm not going to tell you what I want from a submissive, Madison. All you need to know is that I'm doing exactly what I want to do to you. Your only concern is what I order you to do. You have no other expectations, nothing you need to anticipate. Only the here and now and what I tell you. Understand?"
It could be taken in an offensive way, kind of a shut up bitch and do what I tell you response, except everything he'd done so far tonight had brought her pleasure. But she still wanted to know what she could do for him that no other sub could do. Or did she? What if she couldn't do it? Or worse, if she fo
und out any sub compliant enough could fulfill what he wanted?
One minute she was shying away from the idea of this being more than a training session; the next she was wishing she had concrete proof it was. Maybe she needed to say it to herself. Shut up bitch and let it be what it is. But her mind didn't obey her the way it did Logan.
"I'm turning on the electrodes now," he interrupted her thoughts. "While I watch the movie, I'm going to enjoy looking at you, all tied up, every part accessible for me to touch, however, whenever I want. You're helpless and all mine right now. Anything I want to do, I can. Your only job is to let me know if anything hurts the wrong kind of way. All right?"
She bobbed her head, a quick jerk. She didn't have the bravery to call him Master this time, her mind fragmented over her internal worries. She was also kind of stressing about what that electric current was going to be like. Maybe he had a much higher tolerance for pain than she did. Yes, he'd stop if she said it was hurting, but that might be after a hell of a shock.
She heard him go put in his movie choice; then he settled with a creak into the chair facing hers. His calves pressed against her ankles as he stretched out his legs on either side of her chair. The movie company theme music started, the vibration of the volume coming through the thin stockings over the soles of her feet.
She jumped at the first jolt of the electrical current, but he was right; her reaction was caused by anticipation, not discomfort. The low-level sensation sort of stung, but as the pattern built, it also sent tiny squiggles of sensation up the inside of her cunt and into the base of her clit.
"Ohh . . ." She flexed against her bonds, and her movement enhanced the crosscurrent. It was a flowing sensation, across the network of nerves in all those slick tissues.
"Yeah, we'll keep it on this program. It goes through a whole routine of patterns. I want to see the ones that get you worked up the most."
Her legs were spread wide enough they brushed his jeans on either side. He shifted, and she lost that contact, but she didn't have time to be unhappy about it. He bent forward, put gentle, moist lips over her right nipple, the barrier of cloth heated by his breath. As he turned his head to rub his jaw over her other breast, his hair brushed the generously exposed cleavage.
"I like not having that damn hair getting in my way. Yours, though, I like long. Gives me something to wrap my hands around when I fuck you."
The electrical current changed, became more of a stroking, back and forth, skittering among all those nerve endings like a continuous ping-pong game.
She was moaning as he suckled her, so very tenderly, through the thin cloth of the shirt. He moved to the cleavage, running his tongue in the channel between her compressed breasts and playing there, making it impossible not to imagine him doing the same lower down. Then he shifted to the other nipple, got it aching for more, before he sat back, leaving her panting and squirming.
"A little higher intensity, I think."
