Chapter Three #3
“Not anymore.”
“Ah, I see.”
“He’s here of his own volition, Ford,” she admonished, knowing full well where his clever brain was heading. “Despite numerous warnings and vehement objections from me, he conspired with Eli and Evander to lock me into a Domme-sub contract I don’t want. Therefore, his ass is mine.”
Ford’s lips twitched when she lifted the flogger with the rubber-tipped fronds and gave it a testing thwack across her palm. There wasn’t quite as much sympathy in his eyes when he glanced at Boudreaux. “Tough break, buddy. Fucking with this one is akin to pulling the tail on a tiger.”
“Alas, of this I am aware.”
Violet smiled and snapped the flogger across his ass, relishing his almost silent grunt and the way he tucked his butt in.
“I hope you’re going to keep presenting me with these opportunities to punish you, Boudreaux.
To reiterate the rules—your safeword is the only damn thing I want to hear from your snake oil slick mouth. ”
He sucked in a breath to reply, but wisely kept his response silent.
She stretched out her shoulders and arms, flicking the rubber tips leisurely from his shoulders to his upper thighs. Tiny red marks began to appear across his skin, little fingerprints left behind without her hands ever touching him.
She knew how those marks felt when they landed on skin—swift, fleeting bites of pain that dug their teeth in as one, then separated into individual hurts.
Granted, she was being gentle with him, using the flogger as a warmup rather than a punishment, but by the time she was done, his skin would be humming, singing, and so fucking sensitive the brush of a feather would make him cringe.
Unhurriedly, she worked his back and thighs over until they were a deep shade of pink, then moved around to the front. She noted the slightest signs of strain in his biceps, the hint of white over his broad knuckles, but nothing to alarm her yet; he could, and would, take more.
Using her fingernails only, she dragged them down the center of his chest to his navel, feeling him shudder as he sucked in a shocked gasp. His stomach muscles clenched, turning to steel, and his cock… well, that was a beautiful sight.
No more the tormentor, the controller, the worshipped.
The metal ring fit snugly, perhaps slightly too much.
Several inches of thick, hard shaft strained above the constriction, painfully erect, glistening with copious amounts of precum leaking from the stricken crown.
Plump veins visibly throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and the color was a healthy pink, edging toward red.
Violet checked her watch. The advised period of time for wearing a cock ring was around thirty minutes. Given his current state, she might get ten or fifteen more from him before a minor risk became critical.
She’d keep her eye on it and adjust the scene as necessary.
Satisfied he was warm and tingly, she returned to the table, laying the flogger down and selecting one of her favorite toys. “Fordham, be a dear and add another weight or two to the bar if you don’t mind. Twenty should be sufficient.”
“Each side or in total?”
Violet slipped on a custom-made black leather glove, flexing her fingers until it fit perfectly.
There was nothing worse than trying to create a masterpiece with ill-fitting accessories, so she’d commissioned a good friend of hers to craft the perfect pair.
“Let’s up the game, shall we? He’s far too composed for my liking. Twenty each side, if you please.”
The overall weight fell under what he normally lifted, so she wasn’t concerned about exceeding his physical limitations.
Lifting and holding heavy weight for a brief few seconds was one thing, however; lifting and holding it for a long period flirted with injuries and muscle strain, something she’d rather avoid.
If she broke him, she’d have to fix him.
As Fordham obliged, she slipped on the second glove, brushing the palms together. When designing the gloves, she’d opted for a different kind of spike—most vampire gloves sported the thicker, dog collar type—but she preferred something more devilish.
Each finger of her gloves were adorned with almost two dozen needle-thin spikes, precisely three millimeters long. Another fifty were scattered over each palm.
Used lightly, they could evoke the most exquisite sensations.
A heavier hand could bring bigger men than Boudreaux to their knees.
Once Ford stepped back again, his task complete, Violet studied her sub’s back.
Yes, that was much better. The muscles in his shoulders and arms became more prominent as he tried to counter the additional weight; one link of the chain, then two, clinked through the metal ring above his head, pulling the hook.
Boudreaux grunted.
“This would end a lot faster if you lower your arms,” she murmured seductively, wriggling her fingers like she was playing the piano.
“Think how it will feel, Boudreaux. Sweet pressure on your prostrate, your balls tightening to the point of pain, and then… all that decadent pleasure as your orgasm sinks teeth into your spine.”
“I’d rather have your mouth on my cock than a hook up my ass, Mistress.”
She laughed and set her hands on his shoulders, letting the sharp spines sink lightly into his skin. “Wishful thinking, Boudreaux. All of me is completely off-limits to you. Mouth, pussy, all the pieces you’ve already had, and all the ones you’ve dreamed about.”
“I still love—”
Oh no. Oh hell, no. Bringing love into this shitshow was just plain dirty, she thought, because there was no love left for him to take. How could there be when she’d given it all to him?
Jaw clenched, Violet cut him off swiftly before he finished those venomous words, dragging her gloved hands down his shoulders, his back, over his tender buttocks until groans were the only sound he could make.
He tried to say something else, but she just reached around to set her hands on his chest, pulling the spikes down over his pectoral and abdominal muscles.
Those three words sparked a fury inside her so keen, she almost spat the safeword herself. Instead, clinging to the morals of the Domme, she inflamed every inch of tender skin until he was practically dancing in an effort to escape the prickly touch of the gloves.
When he finally stopped any attempt to speak, Violet reeled her temper in and stepped smoothly in front of him, lifting his chin with a sharp fingertip.
He was sweating, his color was up, and there was an edge of desperation she’d never seen in his eyes.
“Don’t ever bring love up again, Boudreaux.
This charade is doomed to fail. Say it again and the contract is done, I’m gone, and I’ll have no fucking regrets. Are we clear?”
“No,” he said between his teeth as his arms began to tremble. “I don’t accept that.”
“That’s not my problem. If you don’t want to continue, use your safeword. Otherwise…” Violet reached down and grasped the base of his cock in a firm grip, wrenching a shocked cry from him as the spikes bit into his shaft. “I’m going to do whatever I please.”
The bar began to lower as her hand stroked up his length. More sweat began to pearl on his forehead and chest. She released him before she managed to push him over the edge, circling around to set the Hitachi vibrator in the stand, positioning the head against the anal hook.
The tremors in his arms and back grew stronger; the bar kept going down and Boudreaux tried to raise it again, but there was a big difference between lifting weights and holding weights. The strain on his muscles was a taxing entity, a fight he couldn’t win.
When he lost the battle and fully extended his arms, Violet immediately secured the chain in position, locking the hook against his prostrate as she snapped, “Ford, take the bar.”
Her friend emerged from the shadows without hesitation, quickly taking possession of the prop, but Boudreaux’s hands were fisted tightly, unable to let go.
With a brief struggle, Fordham gently pried it free and removed himself from the scene as Violet switched on the vibrator, filling the air with the sound of its powerful hum.
The noise Boudreaux made wasn’t quite a groan, nor was it a scream.
It was a magical combination of the two.
The cords in his neck popped with the effort of controlling himself, even as a burst of precum splattered the floor in front of him.
That beautiful, strong body was captured on the pinnacle of pain and overwhelming pleasure, and she knew from experience how tempting it was to just let go and take it all, yet how hard it was to actually surrender.
She upped the settings on the vibrator, turning the anal hook into an inescapable demon with its claws digging into the heart of his sexual bliss.
She’d been here before with him; only she’d been the one tied down, begging for his mercy. There’d been none—he’d manipulated her g-spot over and over again until her legs and the floor were wet with her own arousal, until there was nothing left to do but release her bladder before she passed out.
Thinking of that, she notched the Hitachi up another level, pleased with his choked cry. More precum erupted, a neon warning sign he was exactly where she wanted him.
Standing in front of him, a little to the side, she wrapped her spike-laden hand around him again and smiled pleasantly as his entire body jerked. “Such a good boy, Boudreaux. Surprisingly impressive. Would you like to come now?”
She could feel his heartbeat pulsing through the thick vein running along the underside of his cock, even through the thin leather of the glove, and the faint vibration wrecking his body.
Chains clinked as he pulled against them. “Can’t.”