Twenty-Eight
I don't feel nervous. More sensitive? For sure. But I'm not afraid of what’s about to happen. When Rome takes my hand in his, I don't feel the urge to pull it away and bolt back up the stairs, needing more time for him to earn my trust. I'm placated by it. I feel comfort and safety as he walks me over to the spanking bench and tells me to stand in front of it without moving. My blood rushes through my veins like a raging river, but it’s excitement, not timidness that fills my body.
As he takes his time removing my dress, slowly kissing just above the fabric as he slides it off my arm, I quiver, my body’s natural response to the amazingness of this moment and the joy I feel in it. He takes his time, no longer using words to prove his point. Everything is done with action, intention, and desire. He drops to his knees to help me step out of my clothes, sprinkling soft kisses down my body, even on my feet as I step out of the dress and stand completely naked before him, totally exposed and left with nothing but trust.
“Have you been on one of these before?” he asks as he stands, using the back of his hand to caress my skin softly.
“No, Sir,” I reply with a subtle head shake.
“Good. That means I get to be the memory you have of using it for the first time. Take my hand. Let me guide you.”
I place my hand in Rome’s and turn toward the spanking bench, inspecting it further now that I'm close enough to see all of the details. There are six cushions with buckles secured to four gold legs, each one made of soft, black leather that looks and smells brand new. Rome wasn't lying when he said none of this had been used before. Four cushions are lower than the other two, clearly indicating where your arms and legs go. The higher cushions are for the user’s torso and face to rest comfortably, the largest cushion containing a hole near the back end. Rome helps me as I lift a leg and throw it over to the other side of the bench, centering myself on the torso cushion and letting my arms and legs drop to the lower ones.
“You good?” Rome asks once I'm positioned properly.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply.
“Good,” he says as he un-secures one of the buckles. “Now, this is the part where your trust for me will be tested. Are you ready?”
I nod, swallowing hard as the thrill of what's about to happen makes my heart gallop like the hooves of a thousand horses.
Rome takes his time securing each buckle and tightening down the straps they are attached to. He binds my left arm first, then my left leg, before moving to the right side and repeating the process. When he's finished, only my head is free to move up and down. The rest of me is totally under his control.
He steps to the front of the bench and crouches down in front of me until our faces are only inches apart.
“Repeat after me,” he says, looking me straight in the eye. “ La regina .”
Italian rolling so easily off of his tongue makes me blush, but I remain focused and follow his lead.
“ La regina ,” I repeat.
“Good. Again. La regina .”
“ La regina .”
“Good girl,” Rome says with a proud smile. “This is your safe word. It means ‘The Queen’ in English.” As I nod my understanding, Rome continues. “In this dynamic of ours, it will never be forgotten that you are in charge. I am the Dom at your request and approval, a king who rules over his queen by her royal decree. Your consent will always reign supreme, and if you ever feel the need to remove it, all you have to say is la regina , and everything will stop immediately. It is my most sacred vow to you. One I will never break. No matter what we’re doing or how good it feels to me, you are the priority. La regina shuts all doors at once, and I will never hold that against you or make you feel pressured to continue. You are la regina . You are the queen, and I belong to you just as much as you belong to me. Got it?”
When I smile, it is filled with so many feelings—lust, happiness, trust, affection, need, desire, joy, excitement, satisfaction. I feel everything all at once, and there’s a part of me that wants Rome to undo the straps just so I can throw my arms around him. He doesn't know how long I've waited for him.
“Yes, Sir. I got it,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet, my little goddess,” he says as he moves his face closer to mine. “I'm about to do very devious things to you.”
Then he kisses me hard and passionately, like we’re never going to see each other again after this moment. His tongue is as forceful and strong as his lips are soft. It drives me crazy and forces all thoughts out of my head except for one—I need this man.
When he backs away, it leaves me panting and craving more, but he turns on his heel instead. I watch as he heads for the one of the black pillars that is covered in floggers, before going to a golden pedestal and removing a wand vibrator from its glass case. He clutches both in his hands as he makes his way back over to me, setting the flogger atop the gold sex chair before clicking the wand into a nearby device that looks like a microphone stand. With his tools in place, Rome returns to his spot in front of me and removes his shirt, pants, and underwear unabashedly. His aroused cock hangs in front of him in all its glory, a large vein standing out as thick as a pencil.
He watches my eyes as he grabs the flogger and steps forward, and I give my intentions away by struggling to keep them off his thick length.
“You want it, don't you, my little goddess?” he asks.
I melt at the new pet name, hoping it sticks.
“God, yes,” I reply to both his question and the name.
“Yeah? Open that mouth for me. Let me see,” he demands, inching even closer with the flogger tight in his grip.
I open my mouth, but Rome doesn't slide his cock inside. Instead, he teases me, keeping it just out of reach of my parted lips. While I struggle, he slides the falls of the flogger over my backside, letting me feel the softness of the leather before flicking his wrist and smacking me. My body jolts like it just received an electric shock, but the quick, sharp pain feels so good. When I moan from the feeling, Rome steps closer and pushes his cock inside my mouth. My eyes widen at the sudden new feeling of my mouth being stretched out, but before I can think twice, the flogger crashes against my flesh a second time. The pain starts on my ass and spreads out like lightning splintering across a cloudy sky.
I let out a moan that barely makes it past his cock as my muscles liquefy. I come undone, sinking into subspace faster than I ever have. My mind goes blank when Rome hits me with the flogger again, this time on my back, shocking my senses ever further as his cock fills my mouth to its capacity. In an instant, ecstasy wraps itself around me, lifting my mind out of normalcy and into a dreamlike state as the flogger tails crash against me again. Pain and pleasure blend together, creating a heightened sense of euphoria that numbs my nerves. I crave more. I need to be hit harder. I need to come. I am totally unglued as Rome fucks my mouth and whips my body at the same time. Something about having no control and feeling the sensation of him using me however he pleases disintegrates my thoughts until I have no more. I only feel the flogger kissing my skin and my throat being used. Drool falls from my mouth and I don't care. This is heaven.
“Oh my god.” Rome’s words hit my ears, but they sound like I'm hearing them while underwater. “Look at you. You look so beautiful right now, Nia. You like having that mouth fucked, don't you?”
He pulls his cock out of my mouth just enough for me to answer.
“Yes, Sir,” I mumble, feeling drunk from the scene.
“You like being used?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. You're mine, aren't you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say it, my little goddess. Tell me.”
“I'm yours, Rome,” I say, and I mean it. It may not be forever, but right now, in this moment, I belong to him. I am a prisoner with Stockholm syndrome. I don't want to be free.
“Jesus,” he says, looking down at me. “I love the way you've melted for me, Nia. You're so fucking beautiful. It’s incredible how you've given yourself over to me. You make me so proud. I want you to see it. I want you to see how incredible you look while I use you.”
Rome steps away, reaching down for his pants and removing his phone from the pocket, along with a condom. He tosses the condom on top of his pants and steps close to me again, fiddling with his phone. “Now open that delicious fucking mouth for me again, my little goddess.”
When my mouth opens, Rome pushes his dick inside again and immediately returns to fucking my face. I choke and gag on it, loving every second of the agony as he moves the phone down and records me taking his cock. I don't protest, because there isn't a thing he could do right now that I would object to. I am gladly his whore tonight.
“Do you see it, Nia?” he asks rhetorically. “Do you see how perfect you are with my cock in your mouth? Fuck. I can't get enough.”
I don't bother to look at the camera, because I don't care. I am lost in the moment and only want him to continue to use me in any way that he sees fit. I have never felt this submerged before. Men have complained about women not being sexual or kinky enough for their liking, but what they fail to realize is that a woman has to feel a certain level of connection before she can dive into the depths of her sexuality. It has to be earned, and she has to know that her partner can be trusted to protect her when she is at her most vulnerable. I have never gone this far before, and it’s because I've never felt this safe with anyone. Now that Rome has arrived, I want to do everything with him, and I have no shame in saying that he owns my body. He absolutely does, because he earned it. He earned me.
When Rome takes a step back, I crave for him to return, and he obliges by bending down and kissing me. Unfazed by the drool stringing from my mouth, he kisses me as if we are already in love. Passion flows between us like kinetic energy, adding more fuel to my need for him, and I groan when he steps away. He walks over to the sex chair and places his phone on top of it, making sure the camera faces us before moving the stand containing the wand vibrator over to me. He twists a knob in the middle of the stand and lowers it, then slides it beneath the spanking bench before raising it again. The wand fits in the hole in the cushion and makes perfect contact with my clit, and I gasp when he turns it on. Shockwaves detonate inside of me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“Oh my fucking god,” I blare as the intense vibrations overtake me. If I could clutch something, I would squeeze until my fingers turned blue, but thanks to the restraints on the spanking bench, I can only sit there and take it. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to gain some sense of calm, but the intensity is so strong I can barely stand it. I sense Rome moving around me, but all I can focus on is how profound the feeling is.
I try to force myself to get used to the feeling, but my sense of control comes crashing down around me when Rome positions himself behind the bench and pushes his sheathed cock inside of me. Every muscle in my body contracts as he begins fucking me hard, pounding me relentlessly from behind while I let out uncontrolled shrieks of pain and pleasure. Between the wand and the size of his cock, I am lost in the wind. I can't move, I can't speak, and I can barely breathe. My mind and body go limp and the world evaporates into thin air—no thoughts, no vision, no stress, no worries, no hearing, no thinking, no existence to speak of. I am nothing until the moment the most Earth-shattering orgasm rips my universe into a million pieces. Stars explode across my vision like a firework grand finale as violent pleasure swallows me whole.
“Oh, fuck,” Rome yells, grunting with each powerful stroke as his own orgasm is brought on by the sight of my undoing.
When it’s all over, my body is completely limp. My brain doesn't seem to be able to send signals to the rest of my body, so I just lay there, my face against the U-shaped cushion in front of me. Rome gets up, removes the wand beneath me, and hurries away for a moment. When he returns, his condom is gone and he’s draped in a black and brown robe, sweat still beading on his forehead as he rushes to remove my restraints. By the time he gets the final one off my arm, sub-drop takes hold in my mind and tears fill my eyes—the result of the overwhelming, sensational high giving way to chemical confusion in my body. An uncontrollable feeling of sadness wraps its arm around me and I begin to bawl as Rome helps me stand, then sweeps me up in his arms. He carries me through the center of the basement like a husband carrying his bride into their new home, but I can't enjoy it. I’m too far gone.
“I got you, Nia,” he tells me just as we reach the steps and he begins to climb with me in his arms. “Don't worry about anything. I'm here.”