Chapter 10
Gideon
S he gasps aloud as I fasten each jeweled clamp gently on her pale, pretty nipples. They’re already hard so this will hurt, but I wanted to see what her tits would look like with them on. And indeed, they look as fucking beautiful as I thought they would.
The pressure is slight, enough for a beginner, and from the shaken hissing of her breath as I adjust the tension, it’s more than enough for her now. Her eyes have gone huge, her body trembling as I shift back to look at my handiwork.
I’ve been hard on her, it’s true, but that’s the kind of Master I am. I mess with a sub’s head and set her off balance so that the only steady ground for her is me.
The kiss I gave her was just one example.
She wasn’t expecting it, especially given how hard I was holding her hair — giving the rough with the smooth can really unsettle a sub so deliciously.
I don’t normally kiss subs, though, because that involves a level of intimacy or closeness that I don’t enjoy.
However, my instinct told me it would put her off balance, so I went with it, and indeed it did.
What was a little disturbing was the strange urge I had to keep kissing her, which I never, ever experience.
Her lips were soft and lush, and I just knew that if I parted them with my tongue, her mouth would be hot and sweet.
But I told her the truth when I said I was into denial.
Subs think that means denying them what they want, and it is, but I also deny myself.
It builds the tension, builds the electricity, builds the hunger to a screaming point, which then makes the orgasm even more intense. Both for her and for me.
I took my time choosing which toys I was going to use for that reason too.
I wanted to mess with her head even more by getting her to sit in the living area on her own.
Time can play tricks on you in those kinds of situations and I could tell the moment I walked back into the room that it had played those tricks on her.
I checked on her out of the corner of my eye as I walked over to the coffee table with the box, and it was enough to see the flood of relief in her face as she watched me.
I already knew what she was thinking, her busy mind going over and over where I’d gone and for how long, and perhaps I’d abandoned her.
That’s good, though. I want her to keep thinking about me, because eventually she’ll learn that she doesn’t have to think.
That all she has to do is give me her complete and utter trust and in return I’ll give her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
I still need to get into her head more though, find out her weak points and vulnerabilities.
She’s sensitive about failure, I could see it in her eyes when she picked out the vibrator and I told her that wasn’t the right answer.
Makes sense considering what Lucas told me about her acing most of her classes at Yale before she dropped out.
She’s an anxious high achiever who wants to please, but is also as stubborn as fuck.
I could see just how stubborn when I came back into the room and she was kneeling there, radiating determination. She’d had a battle with herself, no doubt, about whether to leave or to stay, and in the end her stubbornness won out.
You were hoping she’d go.
I push the thought away as I rise to my feet again and go back to the coffee table for the other clamp.
Why would I hope that she’d leave? Yes, she’s young and my son’s ex, and a submissive new to the scene.
I’ve warned her what I’m like and she accepted that, and I have to admit I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would. But that’s all.
She’s different though, you can’t deny it.
I certainly fucking do deny it. I’ve never wanted to train a sub before and sure, there’s something…
possessive in me that likes the idea of training her to suit my needs alone, but that’s a timing thing.
Gabrielle’s birthday and all that shit. And yes, she did push, and that alone would be enough for me to refuse, but I didn’t, so that part’s on me. It’s not for any other reason.
I pick up the third clamp and go back to where she’s kneeling. The fine chain linking the jeweled clamps on her nipples hangs between her breasts, glittering like the jewels as they rise and fall with her heightened breathing.
A flush has risen into her cheeks, making the silver of her eyes look even darker as they cling to mine. The pulse at the base of her throat is racing and down between her thighs, that little pussy of hers is slick and glistening.
She’s a fucking delicious sight, I have to say.
I crouch once again in front of her, but I say nothing as I attach the third clamp to the O-ring that links the two currently on her nipples.
Then I look down between her thighs at all that wet, pink flesh.
“This one is going to hurt,” I tell her as I look back into her eyes.
“But I think you can deal, can’t you, sub? You can answer.”
“Y-y-yes,” she manages. “M-Master.”
“Very prettily said,” I murmur, noting how her flush deepens at the compliment, and getting a kick of satisfaction out of her response myself.
I am sparing with my compliments and praise, because it makes it much more intense for the sub when they finally earn one from me.
Obviously being praised is something she likes, so I file that away for future reference.
I look down between her thighs. “Spread your pussy for me. Let me see that hard little clit.”
She hesitates only a second before dropping her shaking hands between her thighs, holding apart the soft, pink folds.
I can smell her, the sweetness of roses and the musky scent of feminine arousal, and it’s fucking hot.
Much hotter than it should be, quite frankly, but my dick disagrees.
It likes the smell of her, wants all that tight, slick flesh around it, and it’s insistent.
In fact, I can’t think of when my cock was last so fucking demanding.
I ignore it, though, because no matter how insistent it is, it’s not getting what it wants, not yet.
Instead, I gently close the third clamp around the base of her clit.
She gives a soft little cry, her body jerking and shivering as I adjust the pressure, keeping tabs on her expression all the while.
I want her on the border of pleasure and pain, and to test that border. I want to see what kind of strength she has and how I can use that to drive her out of her mind and give that busy brain of hers a rest, because I can see it spinning and spinning in her eyes.
This is what she needs, even if she doesn’t know that herself yet. She’s looking for someone to stop her thinking, to let her exist in the moment where the past and the future don’t exist. Where there is no success or failure, only pleasure.
“Does it hurt, sub?” I ask.
“Y-yes.” Her eyes have filled with helpless tears and I know she’s fighting to keep them at bay, I can see the battle going on inside her.
“Too much?”
She swallows. “I c-can handle it.”
I stare into her liquid gray eyes to see if she’s giving me the truth, and she is. She doesn’t want to disappoint me or fail me, I can see that also, but she’ll learn that it’s not her success or failure that matters right here and now. It’s mine. Because I’m the one in charge.
“You can cry,” I tell her, giving her permission to weep and scream and let out whatever emotion is inside her. “You know I like your tears.”
She swallows yet again and shakes, the tears beginning to fall, and I can tell she doesn’t like it. That even though I gave her permission to cry, she hasn’t given herself permission, yet they fall anyway.
“Eyes on me,” I order as she tries to look away. “Always on me.”
She’s trembling harder as she meets my gaze and I hold hers pinned to mine.
Then I reach out and take the chains that link the clamps and I tug on them, adding to the sensations she’s feeling.
A cry escapes her and her back arches, and I look into her darkening eyes, seeing the pleasure/pain burning bright there.
She likes this, even though it hurts as much as it pleases.
I tug a little harder, because she’s a fighter, this one, and fucking delicious draped in my jewels and chains with the most sensitive parts of her body under my direct control.
“You can say your safe word,” I remind her. “You can say it any time.”
She’s thinking about it, I know she is, but the moment I say the words, I can see the determination inside her harden, the strength I’ve already seen in her, rising to the surface. Her jaw tightens, her lips compressing, flames glittering in her eyes.
Fuck, this woman is not just an anxious overthinker or a victim.
There’s more to her than that, and for the first time, it’s not only the Master who wants to know more about her but the man, too.
I want to know happened to her during the attack that made her drop out of college.
That turned her into a pale, colorless version of the woman kneeling in front of me now, all pink and silver, white and red, with eyes like fucking molten mercury.
Because this is her, I know that already. The real her. Panting and shivering, yet strong and determined, so fucking determined….
“N-no,” she stammers, but there is iron in the word.
Brave sub.
I check her over, to make sure she’s physically okay, then I nod. “More it is, then.” And I tug on the chains, pulling at them with a controlled force, enough to cause her a little more pain and a little more pleasure but not hard enough to cancel the pleasure out entirely.
Another shaken cry escapes her, the tears sliding down her cheeks. She lifts a hand to wipe them away, but I grab her wrist, stopping her. “No,” I order. “I want your fucking tears, sub. I want your screams and your cries. I want your strength and your determination. I want everything, understand?”
She takes a sobbing breath and nods jerkily, but I don’t let go of her wrist. Instead I bring her palm to my mouth and press a kiss in the center of it, watching her as I do and tugging again on the chains with my other hand. She rewards me with another cry, her eyes glazed, her cheeks wet.
Her skin tastes salty and sweet and delicious, and again desire kicks hard inside me, unexpectedly powerful.
A part of me wants to give her a climax, because she’s so fucking hot and so fucking strong.
This is all new to her, the clamps, the obedience, the pain mixed with pleasure, and she’s taken it and dealt with it all with courage.
A lesser woman, knowing what was in store for her, might have disappeared the moment I left the room, but Odette didn’t. Her curiosity and strength were stronger than her fear and they won that battle. I have nothing but respect for that.
She was wasted on Lucas.
The thought comes without prompting and I find myself agreeing, because yes she fucking was. He didn’t see what I see right now, burning in front of me. An iron strength. The passion of a woman who’ll go out and get whatever she wants, and fuck anyone who gets in her way.
Gabrielle wasn’t like that. She was gentler, kinder.
Gave me a fuck-load more grace than I deserved, not that I’m the same young punk that I was back then.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten harder, more selfish, less tolerant of bullshit.
If Gabrielle met me now, she’d probably think I was the world’s biggest asshole.
This woman, though. I’m intrigued, I can’t lie. With all of this spirit, why did she drop out? Why did she let some asshole strip all of that away from her? And what is she looking for so desperately that she thinks she can get it from me?
“Do you want to come, sub?” I demand, tugging again on the chains
She gives a hiccupping sob. “W-whatever you w-will, M-master.”
Satisfaction surges inside me, a lick of heat that lights a fire in my veins that I always get when a sub bends herself to my will.
But this is more intense somehow, and I realize it’s because she’s not a practiced sub who knows what to say in order to get what she wants, or a familiar play partner spouting a rote response.
And I’ve forgotten what it’s like to see a sub say the words, and mean them.
To know that she wants to please not only the Dom, but me.
It’s a gesture of trust, whether she knows it or not, and it’s honest. She’s listened to me, taken my lesson on board, and while she’s still afraid, she’s saying it anyway, because she means it.
That in itself deserves a reward. So letting go of her wrist, I slide my hand behind the back of her head and pull her forward, until those soft red lips meet mine.
And I give her more of the kiss that we’ve both been wanting.