Ultra Violet (4 page)

Emily sucked a long breath over her teeth, her eyes
fluttering closed as Master’s fingers played along the length of her thigh,
inching slowly closer to her wet pussy. She moaned softly, anticipating the
patter of his strong, warm fingers against her mound, her hips tipping toward
him in eagerness.

“Please,” she murmured. “Please, Master…”

She heard the buzz of the wand increase slightly, and then
Greg’s thumb brushed the edge of her labia, sending a sharp burst of warmth
through the slick, tingling flesh. Emily yelped, wriggling long after that
single tiny shock was over, as if the undulations of her hips could pull the
sensation back into her, give her the intensity she feared…and yet craved.

Another plea escaped her but Master had moved away and she
peered up blearily to find him repositioning himself, leaning over the end of
the bed. He rested his palms on her thighs, pushing them farther apart as he
bent low over her, and Emily whimpered as she realized what was coming next.

His breath tickled against her knees, his fingertips tapping
her skin again, making those incredible little kisses of warmth dance against
her flesh—stronger now, each one a soft spark that made shivers bloom under
every touch—and she groaned afresh, yielding her whole body up to him even as
she strained against the ropes.

Master’s mouth met the wet heat of her lips, his tongue
parting her slick folds and moving with bold, wide strokes along the length of
her slit. Emily cried out through gritted teeth, grinding up against his touch
as pleasure flooded through her. There were no sparks, no buzzing bursts of
warmth, but his tongue and the heat of his mouth, his gentle, ceaseless
suction, worked at her until she saw stars—need and bliss coalescing in a
blinding wave of arousal.

She shivered against his mouth as his tongue flicked at her
clit, his lips forming a tight seal on her pussy. Her pleasure rose quickly,
threatening a rapid and uncompromising climax after all his merciless teasing.
She ached for it, needed it, but he pulled back again and she knew that without
his permission she had to hold it back. Emily pressed her shoulders into the
pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled to hold on to her
self-control, her clit pulsing in desperation as his mouth left her.

She gasped, a ragged plea slipping from her lips without her
even really being aware of the words—just a shallow chant, begging him over and
over—and she heard the soft expulsion of his breath as he moved. Greg’s fingers
were on her again then, drumming gently against her labia and making sparks
dance there. Harder now, the intensity of sensation like the hum of a tiny
vibrator, focused with deathly precision on her most tender places, he tapped
at her flesh, opening her up and skimming her wetness with those fiery little
touches.

“Are you still holding the handle, little one?” he asked,
his voice warm and low as his fingers moved over her slit, touching everywhere
but her needy, throbbing clit.

“Y-yes, Master,” Emily managed, her eyes tightly shut again
as her thighs began to tremble. She was still clutching the body contact probe,
sure her knuckles must be as white as the ropes encircling her wrists.
“Oh…Master, please…
please
…”

“You want more?” He sounded amused, chuckling when she
pushed up against him, trying desperately to crush her pussy against his hand.
“If we stay in full contact, the current grounds out. I explained that to you
before, didn’t I?”

She knew he had, but she couldn’t remember. She couldn’t
remember anything, couldn’t think, couldn’t articulate a single thought.
Everything was just full of this searing desire and need, the familiar buildup
of frustration and desire both tempered and intensified by these new
sensations.

“Yes, Master,” Emily moaned mournfully. “But…but…please?
Please…”

She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for anymore. Greg
knew though. Master knew everything,
was
everything, and the candlelit
room seemed to fade out around her, the shadows swallowing up the whole world
until there was only him and the sparks he made dance on her pussy.

She heard the hum of the wand intensify, vaguely aware that
he’d turned up the power on the unit, but she had no time to think about it
because then he leaned over her again. He kissed the top of her mound and a
jolt of sharp pleasure-pain jumped from his lips to her shaven skin, dragging a
yelp from Emily as her hips bucked upward in response.

As soon as his mouth was pressed firmly to her the tingling
stopped. She panted, her whole body a quivering mess of need. This wasn’t like
the experience she’d had before. There was no pain, no humiliation here…no
invasion or violation. Master’s kiss sowed fire into her skin, warming every
inch of her. Gradually the tingling grew more intense, every touch that drummed
against the same spot building the pleasure into mind-melting bliss. She
strained harder against her ropes, her bound breasts throbbing and her pussy
pulsing desperately as she pushed toward him, chanting pleas and praise—
so
good, please, more, touch, yes, Master
,
please
—as the coherency fell
from her world.

He gave her his tongue then. Just the very tip of his
tongue, delicately flicking the underside of her clit…and sending a fat, sharp
spark leaping across the gap between them to land directly on her center.

Emily squealed, her body bucking up from the bed in a
contorted arch and the contact probe slipping from her fingers. She heard it
bounce on the floor but barely connected the sound to anything real. Nothing
seemed real, nothing seemed physical or plausible, not in the midst of this
maddening, wild intensity.

Greg moved away from her and she wanted to howl at that. He
couldn’t! She needed him, needed what he could do to her—and she felt his hand
on her stomach. No sparks. No tingle. She trembled, still so close to the
precipice, and stared up into the candlelit shadows through blurred eyes. She
hadn’t even realized that there were tears hovering on her vision but her
Master swam into focus through them, looking down steadily at her.

“P-please,” she stammered. “Please, Master, I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to drop it. Please may I have it back? Please?”

Greg chuckled softly, his hands moving in tender strokes
over her flesh, petting her stomach and caressing her tautly bound breasts.

“I thought you didn’t
like
electricity, little one.”

Emily growled in frustration, staring up imploringly at him.
“
Please
!
Master, please…”

“Just a moment, little one,” he assured her with a smirk,
moving away from the bed.

Emily thumped her head back against the pillow. Her wrists
were growing sore from tugging so hard and so often at the ropes, but she owned
the discomfort, feeling it transmute in her flesh, becoming a kind of warmth
and power that crackled beneath her skin…almost like the electricity had done.

She wanted that fiery tingle back more desperately than
she’d ever imagined possible, she realized. She hadn’t thought it could ever be
like this. That first experience—Connor and his cruelty and his mocking
laughter as she ran from him—was so far away, fading to a distant blur on the
horizon of her memory. All that existed now was her beautiful Master and the
sparks that flew between them, and Emily smiled breathlessly at that thought.
She’d always felt that galvanic current in Greg’s touch—always imagined that
there was something magical about him that struck right at her core—but this
was the first time that electricity had been literal. She wanted to laugh but
her breaths came out ragged and a little damp and, when he turned back to her,
he gave her a very thorough, critical look, as if he wasn’t sure she hadn’t
completely lost her mind.

“Are you still with me, little one?” he asked, lofting a
quizzical brow.

Emily nodded fervently, watching his clever hands working
with the wand. He’d been attaching one of the glass electrodes to the handheld
unit—the large, perfectly round orb. She wet her lips nervously, trying to
marshal the words on her tongue and push them out in the right order. They
didn’t want to cooperate though. Thinking was hard and talking worse.

“Mm-hm,” she murmured, squirming as she followed his
movements apprehensively.

Master flicked on the unit and the wand began to hum softly,
the orb glowing a brilliant purple. Emily caught her breath. She hadn’t
imagined it would be so beautiful, but it was…bright and pure and beautiful.
Her pulse quickened as he drew closer and a little whimper left her as he moved
the wand toward her. She wanted it—wanted it with every fiber of her being, her
whole body a panting mess of need—but the electrical buzz filled her ears and
the last rime of trepidation clung to her, nervousness staining her excitement.

Greg swiped the wand slowly over her ribs, passing it so
close to her body that the sparks whispered from the cool glass to her warm
skin with the softness of a lover’s sigh. It fizzed against her flesh, the
shocks light and tingly. But as long as Master kept the wand moving, the
intensity never grew too much to take. Emily let out a long breath, her body
sagging as she relaxed into the sensations. She’d never pictured it feeling
like this, never thought it could be so gentle, so…soothing almost. If it
hadn’t been for the state Master had worked her up into already, she half
suspected this beautiful feeling would be enough to lull her to sleep.

She stretched out under the wand, peering from beneath her
lashes at the wide, wonderful orb moving over her body, the flawless glass
filled with those crazy dancing streaks of purple lightning. It was like a
storm in a vase, she thought, the whole sky caught in a snow globe, as if
Master were holding the world in his hand and she was at the center of his
universe.

She smiled at that, so much joy and bliss pooling in her
that it spilled out into a bubbling, irrepressible peal of laughter. She looked
up at Greg, delighting in the focus in those gray-blue eyes and the intensity
with which he stared down at her. He smiled and he looked so pleased, so proud
of her. His pride filled her, the current of it moving between them in a
constant tide, his smile only widening as he moved the violet wand farther away
from her flesh before landing a sharp zap on her nipple.

Emily flinched, letting out a yelp and tugging hard on her
restraints.
This
was more like what she’d imagined—the roughness of
something that felt like electricity, that bit into her sensitive spots and
seared her nerves, sending wicked stings of sensation right through her flesh.
It didn’t hurt as badly as that first sour experience, and she was surprised to
find that it didn’t make the horrible memories swell up inside her.

There was just the feeling swirling through her and around
her and the solid, comfortable presence of her beloved Master at her side, the
glow of the wand reflecting on his wide, strong wrist as he held the unit above
her breasts. He looked down at her, a smile touching the curve of his lips, and
he let the glimmering glass orb rest on the white rope that bound her chest.

Emily let out a breath, feeling no sparks while the rope
absorbed the shocks. Greg had told her about ropes that could conduct
electricity, and she had no doubt that he had a whole list of ingenious things
he wanted to try.

Before tonight, that thought would have frightened her,
although she knew she would have been keen to prove to Master that she could
fulfill his wishes. She would have been prepared to try it, if it was something
he really wanted…but now
she
wanted it too. She wanted the shocks again
and the intensity of those stronger zaps. The great ball of need and
frustration within her throbbed like a yawning void, swallowing her up from the
inside out. She
needed
this, and it was new, unsettling, scary, to be so
desperate for something that she’d been afraid of for so long.

Emily trembled as she looked down at the wand, the crackling
purple tendrils of light within the orb dancing in hypnotically sinuous forms.
Her lips twitched and she wanted to beg, pushed so far beyond desperation now
that she was beginning to feel like a feather, tossed on the impossible swell
of this intensity. She glanced up at her Master, imploring him with her widened
eyes, and the shadows in the candlelit room seemed to soften his edges, making
him a part of the darkness that enveloped her.

“Hold still for me, little one,” he said softly as he moved
the wand down lower, skimming her belly and the curves of her waist with the
orb.

Emily writhed beneath the series of sparks and tingles that
kissed her skin. The closer the glass lay to her skin, the more subtle the
sensation—almost a gentle hum on her body—but with each pull away, the jolts
bit at her like the nips of tiny jaws, chasing ice-cold shivers through her
flesh. The more Master concentrated the wand on one area, the higher the
sensation built and, as he hovered the orb just below her navel, Emily groaned
and squirmed, whimpering as the constant nibbling jab of little static-laced
kisses gnawed at her skin. She wasn’t sure whether he’d turned the dial up any
higher or whether she was just nearing the limit of what she could take without
exploding. Every nerve ending she possessed felt frayed, her mind a melted ball
of pleasure, synapses cemented together and thoughts flooded with shapes and
colors.

She let out a short scream as Master moved the violet wand
over her pussy. The first spark on her lips made her hips buck wildly, her
whole body twitching in response to the pressure that threatened inside her.

“Open your legs, little one,” Greg commanded and she did,
because the mere thought of not obeying him had flown so far from her head that
it seemed an impossibility. He spoke and her body obeyed.

He was beside her and the cool glass of the wand sent sparks
right onto her slick, aching slit. She squealed, her clit a burning seed of
pleasure, throbbing as if under the most intense vibration imaginable, and her
pussy clenched desperately, the need for release aching through her.

He toyed with her, moving the wand from her slit to her
thighs and back, pushing her to the brink over and over until she was sheened
with sweat, shivering and straining violently against her bonds. Emily found
her voice again as the sparks bit into her wet, hungry flesh. She begged and
pleaded, her voice shallow and shaky, her eyes half closed and her lips
trembling around each word.

“Please, Master…please may I come? Please?
Please
…please,
Master…”

Greg grinned down at her, the candlelight glimmering in his
eyes as he stepped away. Emily let her head roll to the side, burying her face
against her arm. Her shoulders were sore, her wrists chafed and tired and her
clit was still on fire, long after he’d taken the wand away. Little bursts of
intensity pricked her muscles, her body wound so tight that she could barely
remember a time she hadn’t been this close to orgasm. As if she’d existed in
this agonizing limbo forever, nothing to her existence but to serve Master’s
whim with her pleasure, the object of his teasing and torment.

She heard him doing something with the wand but she wasn’t
sure what, and she could barely focus enough to peer across the room. She felt
him press cool metal into her palm, raising her head as she realized it was the
body contact probe again.

“Hold it tight, little one,” he reminded her as her fingers
closed weakly but eagerly around the handle. “Hold on or the electricity will
stop. And you must remain still. Completely still. Do you understand?”

Emily nodded feebly, listening for the hum of the wand and
whimpering softly as the warmth of sparks touched her thighs. He was parting
her legs and she felt the discomfort in her ankles, so long shackled now, but
she didn’t care, because her Master was going down on her again, his tapping
fingers and lapping tongue sending dancing violet sparks shimmering up and down
her slit.

She pushed herself down into the mattress hard, willing
herself to stay still and struggling to control her body when all she wanted to
do was flail and writhe, screaming his name as she yielded up everything she
was, everything she had and came for him in a flood of agonizing bliss.

But Master had not given her permission. Instead he teased
her, his tongue tapping at her still-tingling clit and skittering across her
soft folds, trailing fire and intensity with every stroke. The precision of the
sparks drilled into her, hot and cold and incredible, as if his tongue were a
laser fixed right on her center. Her breaths came high and tight, and Emily
turned her head again, sinking her teeth into her own arm as her hips began to
shake. She moaned one last, mangled “please”, and shivered at the electrified
kiss Master planted on her inner thigh.

“You may come for me, little one,” he said, tapping his
thumb hard against her wet, needy clit.

She let out a long cry, full of gratitude, which morphed
into a squeal of ecstasy as he bent his head again, adding his mouth to the
stimulation that finally pushed her over that long-awaited edge.

Emily panted, lost in the swirl of bliss and wild, vengeful
pleasure that split her into pieces, every microsecond an extension of the
delight Master forged for her. He didn’t stop, sucking greedily at her clit and
teasing her folds with his electric fingers as she bucked and writhed through
her extended, intensified, agonizing climax. It poured through her like ice,
like the white tail of some blinding star that hit her so hard it slowed down
time. She felt as if her throat was burning, the air itself set on fire, and
the weight of a perfect oblivion seemed to roll over her, filling her head with
a nothingness where all that remained real was pleasure. It vibrated through
every cell of her body until she was sure she’d be shaken apart, and her
wonderfully wicked Master spun it out until the intensity veered into pain and
she was whimpering and shying from him, her madly tingling, throbbing pussy
drenched and sated.

“I told you it could be good, didn’t I?” Greg murmured as he
switched off the unit.

Emily, her head lolling against the pillow, peered blearily
up at him.

She meant to say “Yes, Master” but she was pretty sure what
came out was a garbled stream of vowels. He smiled at her, stroking his hands
gently across her body. It still felt like sparks, but not the electric kind,
just the kind they always made together.

Emily parted her thighs, pushing her hips toward him in a
wordless, acquiescent plea. She knew what he needed. He must have been at least
as desperate for release as he’d made her and, despite the echoes of
devastating pleasure still beating throughout her body, she wanted him.

Her Master’s smile widened, his face suffused with pride as
he started to unbutton his jeans. He climbed slowly onto the bed, the mattress
creaking beneath him, and her body rolled a little into the hollows he created,
arms still dangling from her shackles in voluptuous exhaustion.

Greg eased himself between her legs, his hands gently
skimming her thighs, petting her again as he took a condom from his pocket. His
gaze didn’t leave hers as he sheathed himself, but Emily’s eyes closed as he
took hold of her body, holding her tight as he thrust into her. She hung limply
from her bindings, pliant and wet while he fucked her with long, slow strokes,
groans escaping through his gritted teeth. He tipped his head back, the light
of the candles—nearly burned down now, their fragrance still hanging sweetly in
the air—catching at the strong line of his jaw as he buried himself in her
body.