Chapter Three #2
Now, she would use her intimate knowledge to ruin him just as effectively.
Grasping his half-aroused shaft, she reached for the lube with her other hand and liberally coated him in liquid silk, carefully working the stainless steel ring down the length of him until it settled into position.
He groaned as she squeezed him the way she’d learned a long time ago, adding just the right amount of pressure to force his cock to full hardness.
Yes, he was still was a magnificent beast.
Stepping back, she admired her handiwork with a critical eye. Just a few finishing touches and the beloved game he so dearly wanted to play could begin.
She set the lube aside and picked up the anal hook, running the slim, cool length of metal through her hands. “I remember the time you tried to put one of these in me. It didn’t go very well, did it?”
There was no fear, no alarm in his expression, just curiosity. “No, Bennie. It didn’t.”
“Well, at least you understand the process, so that simplifies things.” She tapped the large ball on the end against her palm.
“How long has it been since something went up your ass, Boudreaux? All those needy, greedy little subs swarming around you like flies on a dead dog, there must have been one naughty boy who piqued your curiosity enough to let fuck you. After all, you proclaim to be a man of many diverse experiences.”
The fucker smirked. “Did you forget my rule, beignet? I, and only I, do the fucking.”
“Not today. This is going to be a real eye opener for you.” Laughing, she picked up the lube again and generously drowned the hook. “What was it you told me that night? Oh, yes. Breathe in, blow it out, and relax the muscles. It won’t hurt so much once it’s in.”
“It was good advice. You just didn’t listen to it.”
She’d been scared and excited, then freaked out by the cold metal ball trying to push inside her.
It had felt huge, far too big, and she hadn’t been able to let the fear go despite several attempts to relax.
“Well then, let us hope you’re smarter than I was and listen to your own damn advice.
Bend over, Fontenot. Time to pay the piper. ”
With artistic flair, he bent until his forehead was nearly touching her breasts as though bowing in deference. “Be gentle, Bennie. It’s my first time.”
She flicked him between the eyebrows, leaving a smear of lube. “Shut up and bend.”
When she stepped back and to the side, he completed the bow, setting his hands on his thighs to hold himself in position. The chains rattled through the ring above him; Violet reached out and caught them, securing the links through a hook on the side beam.
The rear view was just as nice as the front, she thought. He carried a little extra muscle across his shoulders and down his back than she remembered, but the ass every woman and a large percentage of men ogled when he walked past was still God’s greatest creation.
In Violet’s opinion, that ass was proof God was a woman.
The trick here was going to be making it through the scene with as little contact as possible.
Normally, she liked to tease the skin, dragging her nails down before skimming her palms back up.
Pain and pleasure, those fickle twins. She loved to feel a man’s skin twitch and shiver beneath her fingertips, his muscles jerking under the brush of her lips.
The years had taught her how to guard her heart, ignore her desires, and utilize her body as a multifunctional weapon designed to titillate and torture.
Humming under her breath, she moved behind him. That beautiful ass implored her to smooth her hand over the tight flank, spank it until the pale skin bloomed like a rose. Mark it with a flogger, a cane, a tawse until welts rose like a brand.
Instead, she pressed the ball of the anal hook to the top of his ass, pushing it down between his cheeks, using it as a divining rod to find the tight, untouched hole where it would rest for the next while.
The slight jerk of his hips and quiet grunt of unease told her exactly when she found it.
He exhaled slowly as she gripped the curve of the hook, angling it carefully to rock the ball back and forth, adding pressure gently.
She might want him to suffer, but causing harm wasn’t acceptable under any circumstances.
She felt the ball begin to loosen the tight ring of muscle, pleased with the low groans punctuated with spates of that bastardized French he only used when his emotions were compromised. “Ready to walk out of my life yet, Fontenot?”
He laughed, but it was strained. “Give me more credit, Mistress.”
Tiny sounds were echoing in his throat, building into a whine. Grinning to herself, she wriggled the hook as she pushed, incredibly gratified by the keening yelp he gave her when the ball popped through the reluctant ring of muscle and sank into his rectum.
She eased a couple more inches of the curved shaft inside him as his legs quivered, then held the rest of the metal against his back so she could unhook the chains from the beam. “Stand up straight.”
He obeyed, grunting softly in response to her command.
Quickly and quietly, she adjusted the chains and connected the ends to a single carabiner, then attached the hook. “Lift your arms.”
As they rose, the chains slackened, taking the pressure off the hook.
“Put your hands down as far as they will go.”
The brief slump of his shoulders told her he’d caught on to her devious plan, but he didn’t know the half of it yet. Slowly, he lowered his arms, tightening the chain, pulling the anal hook deeper. When he stopped with his hands barely past his waist, she smiled.
That was his limit; he could drop them at least another six inches to his thighs.
Violet strolled around to face him. Droplets of sweat were starting to bead along his temples, his hairline, and she was smugly proud of the borderline murderous glare he aimed at her. A glance at his cock—thick, straining, captured—was incredibly satisfying.
“Did you think I’d play nice, Boudreaux?
Start off with a gentle, easy scene and give you a chance to worm back inside my heart?
” She snorted derisively and dragged the edge of her fingernail up the underside of his shaft from cock ring to tip.
“I am going to rip an orgasm out of you. I’m going to make it hurt.
It’ll feel like your precious cock is splitting in half, like the remnants of your black, shriveled soul are being torn from your body. All without laying a hand on you.”
“Mistress—”
“Ah-ah.” She wagged a finger in his face and tsked. “I get to choose whether my toys talk, and I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit. The only thing you have permission to say from this moment on is your safeword.”
Jaw clenched, he wisely shut his mouth. He didn’t know her well enough to push her when she was in this mood, not anymore. The power to punish was in her hands now, and she could be creative with her wrath.
Violet heard a door open and close at the back of the dungeon—the staff door.
Oh good, the next stage of her plan was here, right on time.
She stepped back and smiled at Fordham as he emerged from the shadows with a barbell in one hand, pulling a cart laden with weights with the other. “Perfect timing, Ford.”
Tall, dark, mysterious, and somber, Fordham assessed the situation, concealing the slightest wince.
It was funny how many of the Masters reacted to walking in on her scenes, grimacing as though she might turn her attention onto them without much provocation.
“Good morning, Violet. An early start for you.”
“I have a full day ahead of me. Busy, busy.”
“So I see. Are you ready to begin?”
“Oh yes. Set him off with one-twenty please, Fordham.”
Serious features relaxed into a smile as he began sliding weights onto the bar. “That’s some nasty predicament bondage you’ve devised there, Mistress. How long are you planning on torturing the guy?”
“Until he learns a valuable lesson.”
“Don’t piss you off?”
“You know me well, Ford.”
His gaze flicked up to her as he secured the weights in place. “Evidently not as well as I thought. Some of your scenes are pure poetry, Vi, but this… I’m impressed.”
It would be if it worked. She’d chosen to weight the bar on the lighter side to stretch out the length of the scene; he’d be able to hold it for a while before even his strong arms couldn’t bear the strain. As the bar lowered, the hook would be pulled deeper, rubbing on his prostrate.
Fordham was here to take the bar if Boudreaux safeworded. On occasion, if she slipped deep enough into her dominant mindset, it took a few seconds to snap out of it long enough to recognize the safeword—a few seconds too long when someone’s delicate, vulnerable parts were at risk of being injured.
While she wanted to tear Boudreaux a new asshole, she didn’t mean it literally.
“All done.” Fordham double-checked the weights and their security, then stood and hefted the bar effortlessly. “Ready when you are, Mistress.”
“Let playtime begin. His safeword is porcupine,” she added, walking over to the equipment cupboard for a vibrator stand and carrying it behind Boudreaux. It wasn’t needed yet, but once he reached a certain point, she needed to utilize the moment quickly.
The pinnacle moment, she thought with a smug smile.
“Got a good grip?” Fordham asked Boudreaux, his hands still on the bar as her sub for the day adjusted his fingers a few times. “I wouldn’t advise dropping it without using your safeword first.”
“I won’t need to drop it nor safeword,” was the quiet, confident answer. “Whatever the Mistress needs me to accomplish, I will.”
Fordham nodded and backed up to the wall. “I’m here if you change your mind.”
“Don’t coddle him, Ford. He has more years’ experience under his belt than you and I combined.” Rolling her eyes derisively, Violet selected her flogger with care. “Given the opportunity, he’d do worse to either one of us, trust me.”
“Know each other, do you?”