Enslaved (22 page)

Authors: Claire Thompson

BOOK: Enslaved

7.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed, arms over your head, legs spread. I want to inspect my property.”

He felt the tremor run through her body at his words. She had offered herself to him. She had signed that beautiful handwritten letter with the words:
your slave girl
. Was it more than just pretty words? He ached to find out.

He watched as she unbuttoned her blouse, recalling that first day when he’d brought her home for her punishment. Then her face had been flushed with embarrassment, her reluctance evident with every move. Now, though he could see she was nervous, she seemed determined.

Pushing the blouse from her shoulders, she revealed her round, perfect breasts and jutting nipples. She unzipped and stepped out of her skirt and lay across his bed, assuming the position he’d dictated.

She lifted her hips slightly, offering herself to him. Sam’s cock was rock hard in his jeans. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and stripped himself naked, though he planned to wait to take his own direct pleasure.

The tip of her little pink tongue ran over her top lip as she gazed at his erect cock with raw desire. “Show respect, slave girl,” he said, though he was barely able to keep the grin off his face. Yes, he did want a true slave girl, respectful, submissive and yielding to his will, but he couldn’t deny being pleased at her obvious appreciation. There was time, plenty of time, he hoped, to train her in proper decorum.

Sitting on the bed beside her, he ran his fingers over her smooth pubic mound, sliding them down between her spread legs. She moaned softly as he probed her labia, lightly teasing and pulling the silky soft flesh. He felt her heat. She was wet and his cock twitched in anticipation.

Not yet
, he told himself.
Not yet
.

He stood and moved to the head of the bed. Taking each wrist, he cuffed her to the posts at the headboard and then did the same thing with her ankles, leaving her spread eagle and vulnerable, his for the taking.

He reached for his single tail whip. He ran the single, deceptively soft strand of leather lightly over her breasts and belly, drawing a shudder from her.

“What are you, Rae?”

“Your slave girl, Sir.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

“Whose cunt is that?”

“Yours, Sir.”

“Whose ass?”

“Yours, Sir.”

“Whose breasts?”

“Yours, Sir.”

“And what can I do with my property?”

“Anything you want, Sir.”

Sam nodded, a surge of lust shooting through his cock. “That’s right. Anything I want.” He drew the whip down her body, pulling it so the tip ran lightly over her labia. “I could whip you until you bleed, isn’t that right, slave girl?”

Again she shuddered, and her voice was less steady, but she said, “Yes, Sir.”

He drew back the whip with a flick of his wrist, noting her face as she squeezed her eyes shut in sudden anticipation. He lowered the whip without striking her. “Don’t anticipate, Rae. Just accept it. All of it. Everything I give you.” He stroked her arm and bent down to kiss her cheek.

“You’re doing good. Real good,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you.”

She opened her eyes and smiled.

He sat beside her, cupping her left breast. He reached for her nipple, flicking it lightly until it hardened. He gripped it and twisted, drawing a sudden gasp of pain from her lips.

“Accept it,” he repeated. “Everything I give you. Breathe deep. Flow with the pain. Give in to what you long to be. And let me be the one to take you there, not by the hair, but by the hand. Do you want that, Rae? To give yourself freely to me?”

“Yes.” She held the
s
, letting it hiss into a sigh.

“Breathe,” he whispered, his fingers still tight on her nipple. He watched with awe and admiration as her face transformed, the tension easing from her features, her eyes slowly opening to focus on his. He twisted again. She let out a rush of air, but kept her eyes on his.

Releasing her tortured nipple, he bent over and put his mouth on it, licking away the pain as he sucked the engorged bud, pebbly hard against his lips. Unable to resist, he kissed and suckled her other nipple as well, enjoying her sweet moans.

He sat up and stared down at the mounds of soft flesh, the nipples like dark pink gumdrops. “One day, when you’re properly trained and ready, I’ll pierce your nipples. You will take the needle for me, won’t you, Rae?” He knew what he was asking. He waited.

She swallowed hard, a flush rising on her cheeks, but she nodded, whispering, “Yes, Sir.”

He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. That won’t happen until you’re ready, until you tell me it’s what you want.”

“Yes, Sir,” she repeated.

He ran the whip lightly over her body again, moving in an easy, soothing rhythm until she was fully relaxed and open to him. He caught her off guard with a sudden flick to her right nipple. Rae cried out, jerking in her restraints. Sam reached for her pussy, sliding a finger easily into her wetness.

“Your body doesn’t lie, Rae. You need this.”

He flicked the second nipple and then focused lower, letting the leather curl around each thigh, leaving small red marks where the tip hit. He struck her bare pubic mound, flicking the tip in quick succession, covering her skin with little blossoms of color, each petal drawn with the tip of his whip.

Rae was writhing in her constraints, her eyes closed, her lips parted. Sam thought about ordering her to open her eyes, to focus directly on the whip, but decided to let her be for now. This didn’t have to be training—it was more about reconnecting. He would help center her again, recreate the intricate patterns of pleasure and pain in her nerve endings, remind her body and her soul of what she needed—of what they both needed.

When he struck her labia with the light but direct flick of the whip, Rae gasped and stiffened. “Breathe,” he reminded her. “You can do this. You are doing it. For me. For
us
.”

Sam couldn’t help but recall the last time he’d said those words, and her scathing response. He waited now, holding his breath. Rae slowly opened her eyes and fixed them on his.

“Yes,” she finally said. “For
us
. I want this. For us.”

Hiding the relief that left him nearly weak, Sam refocused on what he was doing. He flicked the whip again, a little harder, its tip catching Rae’s clit. She screamed, her fingers curling into fists.

“Breathe,” he reminded her. “Flow with the pain. Embrace it. Let it take you where you need to go.”

She drew in a deep breath, her fingers loosening. He struck her again on her sensitive labia. She jerked and gasped. She was breathing hard, her eyes squeezed shut.

He waited.

Finally, she opened her eyes, which glittered in the candlelight. As he watched, she lifted her pelvis, arching forward, offering herself to his whip.

“Please, Sir,” she begged. “Please.”

Pride and lust surged through Sam in equal measure. He knew he would spend the rest of his life making himself worthy of her sweet submission. Aware she needed him to continue, he whipped her cunt, her inner thighs, her belly, her breasts, and then worked his way down again.

“Yes!” she cried over and over. “Again! Again! Please, Sir. Again!”

He didn’t stop until she was crying, tears flowing down her cheeks, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. When he gauged she’d had enough, he dropped the whip and released her tethered ankles. Kneeling between her legs, he ran his hands lightly down her flanks and massaged her feet. Leaning over her, he released her wrists and rubbed her arms. She lay still, her hair tousled, her eyes fever-bright.

Her skin was marked with dozens of little welts he’d raised with his whip. Her cunt was dark red and swollen, its heady scent intoxicating. Crouching down, he licked the salty-sweet folds of her pussy, soothing away the sting of his lash. He placed a hand on either thigh, holding her open as he gently lapped at her labia, his tongue teasing over her clit.

He didn’t stop until she was again begging, this time for permission to come.

“Not yet,” he said at first, relishing his power, thrilled with her submission as he felt her struggle to obey. Reaching for his cock, he massaged it a moment, feeling it swell to full hardness, the tip gooey with pre-come. He maneuvered himself so he was ready, at the last second, to plunge into her heat.

He grunted with pure animal pleasure as he thrust inside her. It felt so fucking good—the fit between them better than perfect.

“Now!” he demanded. “Come for me
now
.”

He felt the delicious clench of her muscles against his cock as she spasmed and jerked beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper as she came. Her arms encircled him, holding him with surprising strength as she undulated beneath him.

He pulled her up into his arms, covering her face in kisses as he thrust inside her, tumbling headlong into a climax as she held him close, locked in her tight embrace.

They lay still for a long while after, entangled in each other’s arms. Sam felt something tear in his heart, a sweet wrenching pain. He understood Rae was in fact the one who wielded the real power, even if she didn’t know it. She held his heart in her hands. It was at once frightening and exciting to realize his own vulnerability.

“Rae?”

“Hmm?”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

“And who do I belong to?”

“Me, Sir.”

Also Available at Romance Unbound Publishing

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http://romanceunbound.com
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