Chapter 14 #2
I shook my head tightly, picking at my t-shirt and shaking it to get some air flow against my skin. “No, we’ve been given a job. We need to get that done.”
“If you say so,” Saint said, his voice deep and protective, but also predatory. His sandalwood scent was strong in the enclosed space of the garage, stronger than that of motor oil and old grass clippings from the lawn mower in the corner.
It wasn’t hard to find the flashlights. They were at the back of the garage, near Dad’s workbench.
The bench was a long table that Dad had built himself years ago when Papa got tired of him puttering in the house on summer vacations.
He used it for woodworking and gardening and half a dozen other things.
Saint seemed particularly interested in the various clamps and holes where tools were attached.
I knew exactly where his interest was coming from. That, coupled with the increasing heat drive within me, gave me the courage to ask one of the questions that had been on my mind.
“Obviously, you’re part of the Dark Fantasies Club,” I started, my body heating more and more as my question formed.
“But what kind of kinky stuff do you like to do, exactly? I mean,” I rushed on, holding up my hands, before Saint could interrupt my train of thought, “we’re bonded now, and I don’t want to ruin something that you like.
But I…I am a little curious about how I…
um, how I might fit into the things you like? ”
I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, proud of myself for asking, or turned on by Saint’s potential answer.
Saint had reached up to get the flashlights from the shelf above the workbench. He set two of them on the tabletop, then turned to me with a sly grin, his trousers tented. “Would you like a little taste of the sort of thing I’m into?” he asked. There was a distinct…Dommy tone to his voice.
I gulped, slick oozing down my thigh, and nodded. “Yes, please.”
The way Saint laughed at my answer had me gushing even more. “Okay,” he said.
I expected him to jump me, for some reason.
Instead, he looked around at all my dad’s tools and supplies from his various projects, and the things that were there for the cars.
Finally, he nodded, reached for a pair of jumper cables that hung from a hook on the wall, then turned back to me to say, “Strip, omega.”
The command in his voice was enough to make my knees go weak.
I rushed to do exactly as he said, mostly because I was desperate to get naked.
I kicked my shoes off, shucked my sweatpants, noticing that the seat was wet as I did—I was going to have to do so much laundry when this whole thing was over—then peeled out of my shirt.
When I was done, Saint moved to stand right in front of me, holding the jumper cables.
I had a quick vision of him clamping the ends on my nipples or my balls.
That thought had my cock jumping, but my brain rejected the idea.
Jumper cable clamps were way too strong to be used on skin without breaking it.
Saint smirked. “This bond thing is fun,” he said, pivoting back to attach one end of the jumper cables to the top of one of the clamps that was already on the table. “I can’t read your mind or anything, but I’m going to take a guess and say that the idea of clamps intrigues you.”
“What do they feel like?” I asked in a hoarse whisper.
“They hurt,” Saint said honestly. “A lot. But when you’re in a scene, playing around with pleasure and pain together, they can cause some really trippy feelings.”
“Like what?” I asked as Saint gestured for me to approach the bench.
I stepped right up to the edge, and Saint grabbed the back of my neck, forcing me to lean forward over the dusty tabletop.
He stretched the jumper cable across my back and attached the other end to a clamp on the far side of the table.
It was really weak bondage, but it was enough to make me feel like I was restrained.
My hole responded by twitching and leaking slick.
“Our brains can’t process pain and pleasure together,” Saint explained. “Wires get crossed. Both feelings are intensified, and sometimes it makes you feel like you’re high.”
“Really?” I asked breathlessly as Saint kicked my feet as wide apart as they would go.
Having my feet spread apart lowered my upper body into a position that was actually more comfortable.
That was one thing. But then Saint found some twine on the shelf under the workbench and used it to loosely tie my ankles to the bench’s front legs.
Again, the binds were loose and I was sure I could wriggle out of them at any point, but the sensation of being helpless was still there.
“Yep,” Saint said. “Want to give it a try?”
“Yeah,” I breathed out, my skin blazing with heat.
Saint fished around in a few more boxes. I turned my head this way and that, but I couldn’t see what he was doing.
“People who don’t understand the kink world usually think Doms are these nasty, sadistic predators who just like to abuse omegas when they’re at their most vulnerable,” he said as he set a box of Papa’s clothespins on the workbench in front of my face.
He had some clothesline as well, and he used that to tie my wrists behind me.
I wasn’t sure what he did next, but he evidently found something to throw the clothesline over.
He pulled it, and my arms lifted up behind me as far as they could go.
I squealed a little at the strange pull of my muscles and the way the forced position made me more aware of my body.
“People who think that have it all wrong, though,” he went on. “It’s not about hurting people, it’s about controlling what they feel. It’s about playing with them.”
“You like playing with people,” I panted, mind racing at all the things he was making me feel.
“I love it,” he said. I could feel just how much he was telling the truth.
“You’ve seen me at my worst, when everything feels totally out of control.
” My heart pinched for him for a second.
“Well, playing around like this gives me that control back. Not because I’m being mean or selfish or anything, but because I have the power to control the experience we’re both having.
I like taking my partners on a journey and bringing them back safely. ”
I didn’t like his mention of other partners. I knew he could feel my jealousy, but he nipped it in the bud by nipping me in the butt. Literally. He pulled at one of my cheeks and attached a clothespin. It was a weird and different feeling, but nothing to write home about.
Until he attached another one. And another one.
And another one. He clipped up my backside, then lined clothespins down my inner thighs.
What I thought was really weird was how he clipped a long piece of twine along with my skin.
I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I felt mischief and arousal from him.
When he was done clipping up my legs, he attached the same clothespin and twine set-up to the underside of my arms. I was mostly just confused by what he was doing and distracted by the increasing throb of so much pinched skin.
On top of that, my heat wave had well and truly started, and I was desperate to have his cock inside me.
Familiar instinct was at war with the new physical experience.
“How’s it going?” Saint asked, almost teasing.
“Mmm,” I replied, unable to put my feelings into words.
Saint laughed, then crouched behind me, pulling my clipped cheeks apart so he could dive into my hole.
It was the same as it’d been a few hours ago against the van.
He licked and sucked, drinking my slick and using his tongue to ignite every nerve-ending in my hole.
But it was different somehow, because as amazing as the pleasure he gave was, the pinch of the clothespins wouldn’t let it grow to the point where I started orgasming. It was just…suspended.
“Ohh!” I groaned when he pulled back and switched to using his fingers to fuck me. “Oh, Saint!”
The pleasure was wild, especially since I couldn’t do a thing but take it, strung up the way I was.
I was completely inactive, one hundred percent a recipient of whatever he wanted to do to me.
My shoulders ached and my legs were starting to hurt from my pose and the clothespins.
But his fingers in my hole, thrusting faster and harder, were incredible.
Then he did something truly wicked and unfair.
He pulled his hand back, then very quickly attached about four clothespins straight to my balls.
The sudden added pain in the middle of how good he’d just made me feel was explosive.
It didn’t make any sense at all because it fucking hurt, but it made me come so hard I lifted up on my toes and grunted with each blast.
“My omega,” Saint growled, feeling what I felt. I could sense wonder along with lust and the need to give me even more, but his rut was well underway. He grabbed my hips, shifting around the odd position of my arms, and pushed hard into me.
The pain radiating from my balls switched to intense pleasure again.
My balls were empty, but the grip of orgasm intensified until I felt like I might lose my mind.
Saint wasn’t done playing with me yet, though.
He thrust repeatedly, knocking up against the mouth of my womb, which was more than eager to accept him now, but before his knot formed, he pulled out all the way.
Once again, the wild pleasure of it all shifted to pain again as he pulled hard on the twine.
All at once, in a lightning-fast cascade, the clothespins clipped to my legs and butt flew off, darting every which way.
The snap and immediate return of blood to those places layered a whole other wealth of sensations on top of what I was already feeling.
He ripped the twine-connected clothespins from my arms as well, then immediately thrust back into me.
His knot formed after only a few thrusts, and my greedy womb opened up to suck him inside.
Saint cried out in ecstasy as my body trapped and milked him.
I was on a whole different planet of pleasure.
I was restrained and throbbing with pain, but eclipsed with pleasure as well.
I surrendered completely to my alpha’s whims as he rocked so hard in me that the bench rattled, but I’d never felt so empowered with bliss in my life.
We shuddered through a breeding orgasm that had us both so thoroughly in its grip that I think I might have died for a second.
My whole body spasmed over and over, incandescent with sensation.
Heat had me begging my womb to take in all of Saint’s seed and to make a baby with it, but as the wave and orgasm slowly ended, I knew that hadn’t happened. This time.
Something else happened, though. A whole new world opened up to me.
As Saint untied my arms and freed my legs, then just held me as we rested against the bench top, I smiled.
So that’s why people signed up for fake omega auctions and let alphas bend them to their will.
I loved it. I needed more of it. Maybe I wasn’t such a boring, white bread omega after all.