Red Hot Obsessions (168 page)

“Hold them,” he said.

Rae clutched the bars even though dread twisted in her stomach. Wulf stoked down her arms, around her breasts, and over her ribs, like he owned her skin. Rae wanted to turn around and kiss him, but she held onto the handles and didn’t move. Her heart fluttered in her chest every time he caressed her breasts, and her pussy swelled.

“With an experienced sub, you can tell them to hold on and not let go. This requires more effort of will from them, to not let go no matter what you do to them. It leads them farther into submission.”

Wulf stepped to her side. When his hands left her body, Rae’s weakened knees almost buckled. “However, restraints are preferred for an inexperienced submissive. They feel bound and helpless, which is exactly what they want to feel.”

Wulf wrapped tough leather thongs around one of her wrists, tying her to the frame. He slipped his finger between the cords and her skin, making sure they weren’t too tight. Her skin was so sensitive from him stroking her that even those firm ties scratched.

Her last moment to break free and run out the door had passed.

Wulf tied her other wrist to the frame. “You don’t want to cut off blood circulation, but the sub must feel helpless. If they feel they have no choice in the matter, in what is being done to them, they feel safe.”

Rae didn’t feel safe. Tying her there so that he could do anything he wanted to her made her feel more vulnerable and helpless than she ever had felt in her life. A spark of excitement ignited at the suggestion that she could not stop him from having sex with her, which she had been thinking about all day long.

Powerlessness and longing confused her and worked her up so much that tears misted her eyes. “Do they cry?” Rae asked.

Pain like a knife slashed through her back and she gasped. Her useless, too-late paranoia rang warning bells.

“You mustn’t forget to call me Master,” Wulf said. His offhand tone belied the fact that he had just smacked her with the riding crop.

“Yes, Master.” Rae blinked to clear the tears from her eyes because, with her hands tied, she couldn’t wipe them away. “I just wanted to ask, Master, do the subs cry?”

He stood close to her again, his chest brushing her back when she breathed. “Sometimes they do,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll learn to distinguish what it means when a sub cries. Some cry easily, often at the first stroke, but their tears mean little. It is for effect, part of the game. When they wail, it sounds false. They need you to be harsher, to push the game farther for them. If you can push their real boundaries, they will become your willing slave. Curtis is one of those.”

Rae nodded. Her eyes absorbed the tears, but the stripe on her back still stung.

“For some subs,” he said, “the playroom might be the only place in their lives where they can release their tears. That cry is different, more wracking, but they must be brought to the point where they can let go. Then they need to be soothed.”

She nodded, trying to think more about what he was saying then the ebbing pain on her back. She might need the information from her psychology classes here more than her theater ones.

“New subs, however, must be coaxed.” Wulf stroked her ribcage so gently that she wondered if he was using a feather, but his fingers were warm on her skin. “I would be ashamed of myself if I made you cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she said, “Master.”

“Yes, my natural-born Domme.” He massaged her neck, and she dropped her head forward, luxuriating in his touch. His kneading deepened, working away hard knots between her shoulder blades from typing research papers on her computer.

“Pain and pleasure lie on a continuum. New subs need pleasure.” His hands smoothed the skin around her waist, and he palmed her breasts again. “Mostly pleasure.” He ran his thumbs around her nipples. Her breasts tightened again as the rest of her body relaxed. He stepped forward and pressed his body against her, and his shirt scratched the hot stripe on Rae’s back. “Almost all the time, you do things to them that feel good, that they will like.”

His voice had softened because he was whispering right beside her, and his warm lips lapped her ear as his hands slid down her hips. She swayed against him to the soft violin music, lost in feeling his hands sliding over her skin. He rubbed her butt cheeks through her suit skirt, grabbing and pulsing handfuls of her flesh. His massage acquired a rhythm like waves, working her skin and body and she moved against him.

“But occasionally,” he said, “when they want more pleasure, when they are
expecting
more pleasure, you do something that scares them, that makes them realize that they are at your mercy.”

Wulf hiked her skirt around her waist and grabbed her panties. The lace scraped her skin as he yanked them down to her ankles. He grabbed her breasts again, holding her nipples between his thumbs and fingers, pinching.

Rae, nearly naked and defenseless, strained against the restraints, but they didn’t budge. Her skin burned from his touch, and his fingers pinching her boobs hurt and yet sparked lust in her belly. She wanted to turn around and grab him and pull his clothes off, but she couldn’t.

He said, “Kick the panties away.” His voice had deepened.

“Master.” She was breathless because his fingers held her nipples so tightly that just the slightest more pinch would cause a spike of pain, and his hands curled under her tits. She asked, “What if someone says the safe word?”

“Then everything stops,” he growled in her ear, as if he were angry with her for bringing up the safe word. “I will pull those slip knots on your wrists, and we will leave the play room. We discuss what went wrong outside. Our games are over for the day, if you say it.”

As much as she was afraid of the whips and what he was going to do to her, his hands on her tits grabbed her with just enough strength, and she wanted him to keep touching her, keep stroking her like he had been. “I won’t, Master.”

“Good. Now kick them away.”

Rae slipped the silky panties off her ankles and pushed them away. A hot drip slithered out of her pussy. She might be afraid of what he was going to do to her, but her body wanted him.

He kicked her feet apart with his shoe, all the way to the wood frame, and the swollen lips of her pussy parted. She stood with her legs spread open, wanting to close them because she was so vulnerable to anything.

His hands on her breasts gentled, and he began stroking her again. He gathered her to him, and he smoothed her skin and massaged muscles in her back and shoulders that she hadn’t known were tense. His hands roamed her body from her fingers to her knees, petting her.

With every revolution around her body, he verged on slipping his fingers into the moist folds of her pussy, but not quite. Her clit began to throb in time to her hammering heartbeat. His hand went up to her breast, circled her nipple, and down her stomach over her belly button to her pubes, and then the he slowed, stopped, and his fingers veered away without sliding inside.

Sexual tension twisted in her belly.

He stooped down for a moment, running his hands down one thigh and calf and then back up her thigh on the inside, and Rae thought that he was going to keep pushing his fingers up and into her, but he didn’t. He went down her other leg, held her ankle for a moment, and then stoked her flesh all the way back up, and he almost touched her pussy again but his hand swung away and over her bare bottom.

He stood behind her and pulled her hips back. His hard cock pressed through his pants against her ass again.

Rae adjusted her leg, but her ankle wouldn’t move.

She looked down, startled.

He had tied her ankles to the frame so quickly that she hadn’t felt him do it.

She struggled again against the leather thongs, and he chuckled at her flailing. “You can scream if you want. The playrooms have been soundproofed, though I sometimes think microphones would be better for business.”

Rae didn’t scream but moaned, letting the fear take over. She wanted out. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but as she was just drawing a breath to say
Macbeth
, his hands cupped her breasts again, tugging gently, and spirals of pleasure wound up her even though she was scared. She let her head fall back on his shoulder.

He handled her like he owned her, finding all the soft spots on the sides of her neck and the cheeks of her ass and teasing them until she was so sensitive that his every touch shocked her.

Finally, just when she thought he never would, when her body vibrated with frustration, he grazed the lips of her pussy with his fingertips.

She forgot that she was tied and tried to bring her arms around his head to hold him against her, but the leather straps held her spread-eagle.

His hand left her pussy, and he palmed her breasts again, tweaking the nipples. She moaned and arched her back trying to push her boobs into his hands. If he wouldn’t rub her clit, she wanted him to grab her tits until it hurt.

His breathing had turned ragged, like he might lose control of himself. His breath on her neck drove her crazy with wanting him to touch her
down there
, to rub her aching nub until she came.

He stroked the outside of her pussy again, teasing her. She wanted to grind against his hand, to force it inside of her, but she couldn’t move. If he had untied her just then, she would have jumped on him and clawed his pants off. She held onto the cold metal handles, futilely wiggling, trying to push his hand inside her folds.

His hand left her pussy and she thought she might sob in frustration. She whimpered, and his hands pressed harder against her body.

He stepped away, and Rae hung on the handles, so crazed with wanting him. “Why, Master?” she asked and was surprised that her voice came out raspy.

Burns sparked across her back.

She gasped, and her skin felt the sting of the whip as nine stripes of hot pleasure, like he was rubbing her back harder, rougher. The whip slapped her back and ass again, and the harsh bites tightened her breasts and pussy until she thought she was going to come. Her rasping breath quickened.

The whip clattered to the floor, and he was behind her again, pushing against her. The whip left the skin on her back raw, and his clothes scraped where the whip had stung her. Her body was so primed to feel everything as pleasure that she gasped and pushed back against him, wanting it to hurt more because it burned so good.

He grabbed one of her tits, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. With one finger, he touched the very top of her pussy, then slowly, sadistically slowly, eased his cool finger into the softness.

Rae couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her attention was riveted on that soft invasion that she was helpless to prevent.

A small part of her mind—a very small part that wasn’t consumed with the way his soft finger entered the folds of her pussy and his other hand thumbed her boob—gave up her fear of what he might do, and she wanted him to do things to her,
anything,
and didn’t want to be able to stop him because the lust and wanting and hunger for him finally outweighed her fear.

His finger reached her clit, and she moaned, arching to push her ass against him.

“At this point,” he whispered in her ear, “if you were an experienced sub and we were playing, I might do all sorts of things to you. I might whip you hard for such presumption. I might take you with a sex toy, denying you my body. Whatever I did, it would be just a little different, or a little more, than you wanted.”

His hand left her tit for a moment though his other hand still stroked her hot clit, pushing pleasure up her pussy and spine, and he unzipped his pants. His cock nudged Rae’s ass, but he jerked away. Foil ripped.

His voice was so low, she barely heard him say, “But we agreed that you wanted this, and I cannot resist you.”

His fingers spread her wide-open pussy farther and his cock slid up her wet center.

The jolt of him pushing into her bowed Rae forward as far as the restraints and his cock allowed her. She hadn’t dreamed helplessness would feel so good. His finger circled her clit while his dick glided into her from behind, stroking her inside. His other arm clamped around her waist so she couldn’t move her hips and certainly couldn’t get away.

“God, you’re wet,” he growled into her neck as he shoved his cock in her.

He felt huge and stretched the soft skin inside her. Hot slip ran down her thighs. She wanted to push back, wanted more of him, but her tied wrists and ankles and his strong arm around her waist imprisoned her. She wanted to grab him and force him deeper into her, but
she couldn’t move.
He stoked her slowly inside, and his finger slipped around her clit, rubbing around the edges but not pushing the pleasure in like she craved. Waves of pleasure wracked her body, but she couldn’t come. She tensed, grabbing him with her pussy, trying to make him come so he would drive into her hard.

Wulf gripped her waist tighter with his arm, pushing her off and pulling her down on his cock.

Her pussy coiled tighter, ready. She leaned forward, trying to push his finger against her clit and work him deeper.

He released her waist and pushed her forward, and his finger finally—
finally!
—found her aching clit.

Rae grabbed the handles as hard as she could and held them as all that craziness, all the frustration, all the tightly wound pleasure burst in her pussy and rocketed up her spine to her head. She screamed, “Yes!” as waves pulsed through her, blinding her to everything except his cock stroking her slit and his hand rubbing waves of ecstasy into her.

Wulf grunted and threw back his head. He held her there, her limbs strapped to the frame and impaled on his hard cock as he ground against her, panting as he came.

He breathed hard for a moment and held her on him. Rae gasped for air, trying to hold herself up when all she wanted to do was collapse on the floor and shake. Even last night couldn’t compare to this heart-attack orgasm.

Wulf slid one arm around her waist, holding her on his still-hard dick, and pulled the slip-knots to release first her arms and then her ankles.