AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She had to wiggle to get them off her hips, and he seemed to like that, too. She’d forgotten the additional benefit of wearing jeans the right amount of “tighter,” particularly when being appraised by a man’s avid gaze. The bra straps tickled her elbows, and the panties wanted to come off with the denim. When she hesitated, he gave her the firm order.
“All of it.”
She’d forgotten about her shoes. He pressed her into a sitting position on the chair, square with the mirror, but dropped to a knee in front of her so she saw his broad shoulders, the flex of his ass and thighs. He removed her shoes and socks, stroking her feet and ankles as he did so.
“That first night, when you knelt to dry me, it felt so wrong.” Her voice was scratchy from her screaming. “I didn’t understand it.”
“Do you understand it better now?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“How does it feel, me on one knee right now?”
“Different. You’re taking control. It doesn’t matter if you’re on your knees or not.”
“Good observation.” He unclipped her bra and guided the straps fully away from her arms. After he set all her clothes aside, he rose and shifted behind her. Nothing blocked her view of herself in the mirror. “Open your knees, Les. Feet aligned with the legs of the chair.”
There was no way she could do that. But maybe if she looked at him… Her eyes lifted to his as she complied. “Back straight,” he continued. “Give me a little tilt so I can see your breasts better. Look at that, your nipples getting tighter just from me ordering you to do that.”
His attention moved back up. “I’m going to brush your hair. While I do that, you look at yourself, not me.”
“I feel funny doing that. Self-conscious.”
“I get that. But are you going to obey me or not?”
She dragged her gaze to the mirror and her very naked and exposed self. When she squirmed, he touched her hair. “Look at yourself as I see you. Look at how your body is ready for me, for whatever I want from it.”
That did change things. But it was still difficult. He must have realized that, because he added an additional incentive.
“I catch you looking at me, I apply this brush a different way. It’ll be my choice if I choose the bristle side or the back. And whether I spank your ass or cunt.”
She renewed her efforts. Look at yourself as I see you. Her naked body open, displayed for his pleasure. His desires. Her breath drew in at how shaped and pointed her nipples were, the hint of glistening moisture on her labia, dampening her curls. Just from thinking about herself the way he was. How he wanted her.
When he began to brush her hair, she had to resist the urge to close her eyes. Long, easy strokes, his fingers following behind, massaging her scalp. He was fixing how she’d messed it up when she had her emotional outburst, but he lingered over the task, until the strands were loose and silky on her bare shoulders. A few locks fell forward to tickle the tops of her breasts, held at that upward angle because of the arch he wanted in her back.
He set the brush aside and began to French braid her hair. Her stomach clutched, remembering why he said he did it. Before I have a session with a submissive, I French braid it, let them feel the pull as I bind their hair. Before I bind them in other ways.
It felt so different to have him do it, with the size, strength and heat of his hands. Each pull had meaning, that sense of restraint in his touch.
He addressed her inevitable dampening thought, that she wasn’t the first woman who’d had her hair braided by Brick.
“I’ve done this to a lot of women, but the reasons aren’t what you think. I have certain skills as a Dom, and there are submissives who want that experience. They’re not seeking a relationship with me. It’s just as likely they’re already in committed relationships. To keep them safe during a scene, I reinforce that I expect them to follow my direction exactly. Braiding their hair is a ritual, me taking that control and them relinquishing it.”
She wondered what specific skills he exercised, but she wanted to stay in this moment, feeling his hands upon her. Binding her to him with the act of binding her hair.
He tied it off with a rubber band from his jeans pocket. He put his palms on her shoulders, thumbs sliding over her collar bones. “You can look at me now.”
When she complied, her body was quivering. Her tide of explosive emotions had left her in a state that made all of this an odd relief. Being in the chair, naked, no part of her hidden from his eyes. Obeying his will, watching him braid her hair.
He wrapped his hand around her throat as he leaned down and nipped her ear. He stared at her in the mirror. “Though it means a hell of a lot more between us, the reminder that goes with the braiding is the same. You follow my direction at the party tonight. Got it?”
A hard quiver went through her, but she nodded. “God, you have a beautiful cunt. You’re gorgeous from head to toe. I’m guessing it’s been a while, maybe never, since you relaxed enough to give and receive full pleasure during sex.”
Stung, she flinched, but he pressed onward. “It’s not a criticism, Les. It’s a door I’m opening to let you look in, see what’s there.”
He straightened and stripped the belt out of his jeans. Though she felt a stomach drop like when she saw the brush, she was more prepared to be punished with the strap than have him do what he did with it instead. He looped it around one wrist, bringing her arm back, before doing the same with the other arm, binding her hands together behind the chair. He’d tied her in a way she couldn’t shake loose, at least not quickly.
The actual loss of physical control set off alarm bells. Maybe because he’d been immobilizing her for far different reasons only a few moments before, and the impression was too fresh. “What are you doing?”
