Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dean Anderson
T here’s something in her gaze that gives me pause. Until now, she’s been drifting in and out, her eyes glazing over as subspace flits about her brain and body. Now, as Andrew prepares for this final step, she seems a bit leery and almost disheartened.
It can’t be the threat of punishment. Not when I know how much she likes it. Holding my hand up, I stop Doctor Andrew as he begins to unwind a hank of rough hemp. “Talk to me, Ashleigh. What’s going on right now? I don’t like how you feel at the moment.”
Doctor Andrew groans as he lifts his hands up in the air, as if me coddling her is going to undo something fundamental. She’s still going to get punished. She’s still going to understand her actions. But right now, I need to know where her head is.
Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as she glances back over to Doctor Andrew, then to me. “S- sorry, Master,” she murmurs, causing my balls to clench at the soft honorific dripping from her mouth. “I was hoping... That is... If I apologize the way you want, can you please not share me with him?”
After the words slip out, her eyes widen as she shakes her head and winces toward Doctor Andrew before continuing. “Not that you’re not a great guy,” she babbles as her nervousness takes over. “I’m sure you’re just fine. And it’s not just you. It’s anyone. I would rather... Fuck. I’m just making a mess of this.”
“My dear,” I chuckle as I run my thumbs over the wetness coating her cheeks. “I’m not sharing you with him. I’m never fucking sharing you with anyone. You’re mine and no one else’s. He’s merely here to drive home a lesson. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Please,” Doctor Andrew snorts as he continues with his rope. “As if I’d want a brass girl like you when I have my perfect submissive at home. Perhaps our next session should be us exploring this burgeoning Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”
“Or,” I butt in. “And hear me out. She has absolutely no idea what you’re about to do to her, and it has nothing to do with how highly she thinks of herself?”
“Since when did you become the psychiatrist?” he counters with a slight tilt to his lips.
The muscles in my shoulders loosen as I realize the good doctor is just trying to joke around with me. With that bastard, it’s hard to tell. “When did you become the brains of this operation?”
“Touché. Can I get back to it? Time is racing away from us.”
Taking a step back toward Ashleigh, I hold the knife up to her eye line. “I suggest you don’t move if you don’t want me to cut you. I’m not as precise as Andrew. I’m far more skilled with other implements as you can attest to.”
Her breasts heave, making them swell out of the lacy cups as I drag the dull back edge of the knife down her sternum and to the front where the smallest bit of fabric brings it together. Can I hold back enough to teach her this lesson?
For the first time since I’ve discovered my discipline kink, a session will probably be far harder on me than it will be for the recipient. It’s as if I’ve been able to hold back on these years, waiting for someone like her, someone like my Ashleigh.
Now that I have her, it’s taking everything not to just throw everything aside for just a few hours and luxuriate in the feel of her body under mine. There will be time later for punishment. Right?
Unfortunately, I know I’ll need to do this sooner rather than later. That’s the problem with someone like her, someone with more spirit than sense. If I give into my baser urges, all it will do is teach her that she can lead me about by my balls.
For her safety, more than anything, I need to disabuse her of that notion. Besides, a little rough foreplay never hurt anyone.
My lips tip into a wicked slash as I bring the sharp edge up through the fabric. This sound of expensive cloth rending under the blade screeches in the night, filling the silence. Her harsh gasps flood my ears, drowning out my own heartbeat.
All I can hear is her. All I can feel is the softness of her silky skin under my fingertips. All I can smell is the scent of her arousal as she squirms beneath me.
Making quick work of the straps, I yank the mangled bra off of her and toss it to the ground. No sense worrying what happens to it now. Bending low, I ease the tip downward, dragging it across the soft expanse of her stomach until it reaches the band.
Every inch of her quivers as she pulls taut. Despite the cold, sweat beads on her skin as she strains against me. Soon, my little fae. Soon.
Even now, her thong is soaked, turning the light fabric nearly translucent. It sticks to her skin, plastered to her as if a part of her body. The curve and swell of her puffy lower lips press hard against the cloth, tempting me, tantalizing me. In that moment, I know I’m smitten.
There will be no coming back from this. Not now. Not ever.
My own breath sounds harsh and guttural to my ears as I ease the blade up one hip then the other until I can easily yank the fabric from her, leaving her exposed to my hungry gaze. Damp crisp hairs line the length of her pussy in a neatly shaved pattern, highlighting her lips.
Not that I would ever need a guide to traverse her body. Though this is my first time touching her quite this intimately, I feel as if every inch of her is emblazoned in my brain. Dipping my head down, I set the knife on the ground and run my nose along her lower lips, drinking in the scent of her until it’s a part of me.
Ashleigh’s body shakes with need as I take my time, drawing out this moment between us. Pleasure can most certainly be pain, and with me, she will need to learn sooner rather than later that I control every bit of this. I will always control this and her.
Snaking out my tongue, I lap at her clit as my eyes cross at the tangy taste of arousal. It’s one thing to lick it off of my fingers, but it’s something else completely to drink from her directly. Her pussy is warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to the gathering chill.
The more I tease her, the more she drips on my chin and mouth until I’m a coated mess. Enough of this. Gripping my fingers into her ass cheeks, I pry her open even more and feast from her, forcing my tongue into her welcoming heat. Her moans are feral as she quivers around me.
I’m sure Doctor Andrew is bored with all of this, but I don’t give two shits about him right now. He’s had his submissive for a bit. This is my first time truly indulging. Once he’s done trussing my girl up, he’ll be free to do whatever the fuck he wants.
“I know you want to come, Ashleigh,” I growl against her slick flesh. “I can feel it in every quiver of your body, taste it as I eat you out. But you’re not going to come. I won’t allow it. Not yet, anyway.”
Pulling back, I stand up so I can look at her, forcing her gaze to lock onto mine as I rub my hand back and forth over her clit and lower lips. The need is so stark, so evident in her gaze as she rocks back and forth with me, whimpering in an incoherent manner.
Smack .
Wetness coats my fingers as I bring them up against her pussy in a sharp blow.
A whimper. A moan. A shudder.
Smack .
I strike her harder this time, memorizing her body’s reactions, feeling each jerk as it ripples through her.
Smack .
Perfection.
Smack .
Immaculate.
Smack .
A paragon.
Smack .
Mine.
As loath as I am to have Doctor Andrew touch her in any way, I pull away from her, allowing the cool air to eddy in between our bodies. Soft distressed wails meet my ears, but this has to be done. If I were just as skilled with rope, I’d do this myself. But I’m not.
I know my limitations. I’m more than willing to put my ego aside so she can learn her lesson in a way that should leave her physically unscathed. For now, at least.
“Do your worst.”
Her eyes widen as her nostrils flare. Just like a startled animal. Feral, wild, untamed.
Mine.
The instant I give him room, Doctor Andrew rushes in and begins his masterpiece. As much as I wish I could be the one teaching Ashleigh this lesson, I have to admit he’s a sight to behold. There’s no hesitation in his hands as he winds the rope around her limbs.
A knot here, a tug there. Each coil that tightens around her delicate skin draws an anguished cry from her lips. Somewhere underneath, however, is a tendril of a moan. It’s a light sound, so soft you could miss it if you weren’t listening for it.
But I am. I will always crave that sound as it pulls from her body in such an unwilling manner. Precum pearls at my tip as I stroke myself to the sight of her dripping from both her pussy and her eyes.
Tears glisten on her cheeks, shining like precious diamonds as she keeps her gaze locked onto me. No matter what Doctor Andrew does, no matter how hard he pulls or where he slides the rough rope, she never looks away.
Neither does she look repentant. Minx. This is supposed to teach her a lesson. Yet, as my gaze dips down to where her thighs lay spread open, her pussy bisected by the rope, the normal tan of the jute turns a dark brown as her arousal coats it.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” I murmur. “Perhaps Doctor Andrew isn’t making it tight enough?”
“No,” she wails as he tugs on the bit between her legs, forcing it to abrade her delicate flesh. “It- it’s tight enough.”
Easing between them, I rub the rope, making the cute little knot dig into her clit. The strangled cry goes straight to my balls, drawing them up to the point where stars dance before my eyes and my cock jerks at the lovely sound.
“I don’t know. Your body is dripping all over his ropes. Naughty, naughty girl.”
“It’s not my fault,” she screams out, her body bowing against the restraints. “I’m not trying to get turned on by this. I’m- there’s something broken with me.”
“You listen to me, Ashleigh. Nothing is broken with you. Nothing is wrong with you,” I cajole, as I temper my touch against her poor, swollen, abused flesh. “You’re more than allowed to crave a bite of pain with your pleasure. Many of the submissives here do. We give them a place, a refuge to live out their fantasies. You can be here with me in this way. We can explore these masochistic needs of yours together. But hear me now, Ashleigh. I can only do that if you can truly understand how fucking dangerous your actions were tonight.”
Her eyes gaze at me, unfocused. It was stupid of me to try to have a conversation with her like this. But then, until tonight, I didn’t know just how easy it would be for her to slip into subspace. A blessing and a curse, I suppose.
Pulling back, I cross my arms and watch as Doctor Andrew finishes. Pale tan rope crosses over her skin, leaving red indentions in their wake. Ashleigh’s expression reflects both misery and pleasure in equal measure. No sense in delaying the inevitable.
She’s not enough in her right mind to understand anything but the need coursing through her veins. It’s the same as what flows through my own.
Shaking my head, I reach down and stroke myself as I study my perfect little doll. She’s my muse, my inspiration, the piece I never knew was missing. Hopefully, this wild streak of hers is just uncurbed youth, something that will fade in time and training.
“Look at me, Ashleigh.” The desperation shines through her beautiful eyes, cutting me to the core. “Get off the cross and come here.”
For a moment, her brows furrow as she tries to puzzle through my demand. It’s so simple, however. It’s something that cannot be done. It’s comical, actually, to watch the wheels turn in her head, to see the twitch and strain in her muscles as she does her best to accommodate my demand.
“I- I can’t,” she eventually wheezes as exhaustion lines her features.
“And that, my dear, is exactly the lesson I need you to learn and understand. Next time, it might not be me. It might not be Doctor Andrew who wants nothing to do with your body. The men and women who play here play for keeps. Next time, you might not make it out unscathed.”
For a moment, her gaze clears, as if she understands the importance of what I’m trying to drive home to her. Relief washes over me for more reasons than one. Mostly, it means we can now begin the process in which I claim her perfect little pussy as my own.