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"He tastes your pussy, licks your clit and you squirm under his hands. But he's much stronger than you, isn't he?"
She nodded. He was in her head, seeing it as she was seeing it. It didn't surprise her to find him there. "He makes me hold on to the bedrails, and then . . . he's chained my wrists there. The manacles are lined inside, soft, but heavy steel on the outside. He says I'll wear them when I sleep or whenever he wants to fuck me. He tells me he's . . . eventually he's going to invite the men in his unit in to watch and . . . if I come too soon, it will prove I want . . . all of them."
"He'll give you to them, won't he?" His mouth was at her ear again, voice now with a touch of a growl to it. "What does he say?"
"He has his mouth on me and he says . . . this is my c-cunt, and I can do whatever I want with it, can't I? I say, 'Yes sir,' because I want to do whatever he wants me to do, even fuck his friends. I know he'll punish me for getting wet when that happens, but I'll be wet because of him watching. Because I'm serving him."
"Do you imagine it, with his friends?"
She whimpered again as his finger trailed down her carotid. "Different sizes, pushing into me. Different hands on my body, different ways of touching me. Then they get impatient, and it's more than one at once . . . one is sucking on my nipples, leaning over my face, as another is inside me. Another . . . they get cruel, one slides a knife down my stomach, nicks me with the blade and tells me I have to stay still, no matter what they do to me . . . He's not touching me, my Master, but I know he's watching. I want to please him."
"Can you see, or have they blindfolded you, like this?" He touched the mask over her eyes, stroking it so she felt the pressure of his fingers.
"Yes. They keep me gagged, except when one of them is straddling my face, making me take his cock in my mouth."
"While another is fucking you?"
She took a shuddering breath. "Yes."
"What do you smell, Madison?"
"Them. Different men. They're burning candles, so they can drip wax on me, bring the flame close to my skin, make me think they're going to burn me. I hear the clink of their dog tags as they're pushing into me, feel their bodies against me. Ohh . . ."
She dropped her head back on her shoulders, panted harder. Logan's hands closed over her straining shoulders. "God . . ." Now, no matter how she moved her hips, it seemed to be increasing the sensations. And still the climax was out of reach. She wanted to be touched. She could imagine her soldier's fingers thrusting into her, his tongue . . . after it was all over, his cock slamming inside her, his harsh command for her to spread wider, take him deep, so he could . . .
". . . brand the others away with his come." Holy crap, she'd said it aloud.
"What happens when it's all over?" Logan's voice was stern, like she'd imagine her soldier's to be.
"He's back again, and they're all gone. I know his scent. He's holding me, calling me . . ." She was still too aware of her surroundings and self to say it out loud, but then Logan wrapped his fingers around her throat, tilting her head back to caress her windpipe, put his mouth against that churning artery.
"Tell me, Madison. Speak the words. Tell me what you want me to call you."
"His. His sweet cunt, his devoted slave, his treasure."
"You never doubt his care for you, the fact you belong to him. There's no uncertainty, no loneliness, no fear. That ownership is the ultimate sense of security, isn't it?"
She closed her eyes under the blindfold as he stroked her throat some more. She made a sound of intense pleasure as he released her arms, loosened the belt around her waist. He drew her to her feet, which set off a whole other level of stimulation through the clips, such that she was a puppet with no coordination, driven by the current coming through those lines. It didn't matter. He had her, the belt replaced by his strong arm as he put himself behind her in the chair, bringing her back down on his lap, with her still facing outward. His other hand settled on her forehead, pushing her head back on his shoulder. All the way back so if the blindfold were gone she'd be staring at the ceiling, held by him like a doll.
"Logan . . ." she gasped. She couldn't control anything. "Help . . ."
"Let it happen. Give it all to me. You don't get to hold anything back. It's all mine."
He broke the current, reaching down to press into her pussy once more, collect that fluid on a finger, withdraw it. When he painted it on her lips, she smelled herself.
"Lick yourself off of me."
She did, tiny, frantic motions of her tongue, then he cupped her jaw, turned her head and took over with a full, open mou
thed kiss, plunging his tongue deep as she quivered and convulsed from all the stimulation he was throwing at her.
The climax started building like a wave in her lower belly, like before, only this time it went so high, it scared her. It was going to make her head explode. It was crazy, she wanted it like she'd never wanted anything, but she was afraid to go over alone. She was calling his name, and he answered.
In those final few escalations, before the wave crashed over her, he had his hands on her face, her waist, his mouth against her cheekbone, breathing the words she needed to hear.
"I'm here, Madison. Go over, baby. I'll hold on to you."
She screamed herself hoarse, fought the climax because that was the nature of it, so excruciating there was no choice but to struggle against it, a base survival instinct that only fueled it to greater levels. At a certain point, he cut the connection, because his hand was there instead, rubbing her, giving her a critical human contact that had her twining all her emotions around that one touch, binding herself to him in every way she could, to give her something to hold on to during the fall.
