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Nothing was said as he walked around me and he approached me from behind. Drawing me back, he knelt behind me. Hands kneaded my breasts and twisted my nipples, I could only respond as I knew he wanted me to. His lips worked their magic and his tongue teased my vulnerable flesh. I was about to be taken on all fours and sent to my cloud nine yet again with all the silver trimmings.
The thrusts were almost savage. I gasped and writhed, not with pain. He kept hitting my sex spots with such accuracy.
“Oh God, Jason, I’ve got to come,” I cried with unbearable need.
“Yes. Yes. I want you to.”
I screamed as I achieved my orgasm. Such a different scream from last week, a scream of delight not terror. It was short and contained. Then Jason followed. His appetite was as needy as mine. Unusually loud, he shouted my name repeatedly. At the last thrust, he pulled me back on to his lap, clutching me tightly.
“I love you, Gemma,” his words hovered next to me.
I could barely believe he had said them to me. Last week was not a dream. Jason is in love with me.
I knew I should not ask but I could not stop the words falling out of my mouth.
“Please, Jason. Take me to your room.” I shut my eyes and relaxed. My greedy lust for kink - to feel the taut powerlessness of bondage, the flinching kiss of a flogger and his all-encompassing control - was all I could think about as he held me tightly to his body.
The scene centred on tying me up and semi-suspending me above the table. Ankles kept apart with a spreader, he tied my knees to my elbows and then my wrists to my ankles. The spreader bar was hoisted up in the middle to the pulley system above the table. My back barely touched the table and my head hung off the side. Perfect for position for him to seek out my mouth and let me give him an upside down blow-job. Which I did until he was close to coming.
Prior to being tied up, he had me on the St. Andrews cross for a prolonged flogging. Something in the order of two hundred lashes had hit my back and bottom. Well, maybe not. He did not ask me to count, but it was a lengthy session with a selection of his floggers. The purpose of the flogging was not to take me to my pain threshold; he did not come anyway near it into terms of severity of blows. He wanted me pliable and in that state of wishy-washiness. ‘Away with the fairies’ he sometimes said jokingly. I had not fully subspaced, nevertheless he had left me in very subbie state of being.
So when - with me trussed up with two clamps attached to my nipples and a chain stuffed into my mouth - he told me to pull the clamps off if I wanted a fuck. I may not have been fully listening to him. He had said something to me in a fog of painful arousal. What had he said?
“Fuck!” I screamed letting go of the chain after giving it a hard tug.
What was that he said about asking?
“Sir, please do it for me,” I whimpered barely coherent.
“You’re asking me?” he said sharply.
“Noooo,” I cried out quickly and he pressed the chain back into my open mouth.
“That was asking, don’t deny it,” he said dispassionately.
He went across to the other side of the room and came back with tiny crocodile clamps, which he attached between my toes on both feet. I writhed, trying hard to accommodate the extra discomfort. Far from wanting to end the scene, I was aroused by his erotic humiliation. Making me beg for sex with my body was strangely gratifying knowing he found it thrilling. Behind his façade of indifference, he was stiff for me. I was convinced of it. I shut my eyes and tugged but the blasted clamps did not budge.
“Help pleathe,” I tried to say.
“Help you? Why would I do that? You want a fuck, you pull that chain. Keep trying.” He folded his arms this time and perched on the arm of the divan. “I’m enjoying this. You resist and I’ll keep putting things on you, so I suggest you do it.” Jason stood back and waited.
I glared at him and wanted very much to say, ‘you bastard’. He would probably fuck me anyway. Try as I may to resist his demands I could not. I tugged harder and harder and I could feel the clamps stretching out my nipples. I howled and let go of the chain. Jason slowly strolled over and slipped a finger inside my clenching pussy. Taking it out, he smeared my wetness around the clamps.
“A little bit of lube to help the clamps come off. You are ridiculously wet you know that?” He put the chain back in my mouth.
The juices worked and with a sharp jerk, I pulled on the chain. The rush of pain broke me out of my trance as I yanked off the nipple clamps using my mouth. The pain peaked immediately and I shook close to tears.
“What a fuss. I was going to put clothes pegs on you and whip them off.”
“Oooo,” I muttered. His other idea actually sound quite enticing. I was definitely in a pleasure / pain seeking mood. Up to a point. I also wanted a thorough seeing to.
“Well done.” He patted my leg and removed the clamps and chain from where they were resting, along with the other attachments. His humiliating torment was not finished there.
“Now you can ask me,” he told me.
I wanted nothing else in the world at that precise minute than to be used.
“Please, sir, fuck me,” I moaned.
