Chapter 16 #2
One wall in his expansive bedroom was lined with what appeared to be built-in cabinets or closets.
His oversized bed frame had heavy-duty posts in each corner.
Screwed into those wood posts, and in plain view, were eyebolts that appeared utilitarian and not decorative.
In the center of the large room, where the ceiling was reinforced, several more eyebolts could be seen.
She’d been wrong. His bedroom was nothing like a spa and more like a torture chamber. Or more like a pleasure chamber, since Dayne didn’t seem to be a sadist.
Dayne stopped in front of an open cabinet and swept his arm toward it.
“These are only some of my toys.” The pride for his extensive collection was palpable.
He pulled out a black, silky blindfold and held it up.
“We’ll blindfold you. Not knowing what comes next will enhance your sensory experience.
However, depending on what we use, we might warn you about some items first.”
She hoped so, because the thought of being blindfolded made her already pounding heart tumble in her chest. The unknown was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.
But then, most of the new things she tried this week had been that way.
Both Dayne and Heath seemed to have a knack for knowing what her limits might be, even when she didn’t, and made her feel at ease.
“By losing your sense of sight, your other senses—taste, touch, smell, and hearing—will be enhanced,” Dayne explained, like she didn’t know those facts already.
Even so, it was nice that both Heath and Dayne made sure she always knew what was going on. For the most part, anyway.
Heath gave her a wink and a sexy grin. “All senses except your sight will be in play.”
“If anything we do gets to be too much, don’t hesitate to use the safe word we gave you. Say it and we’ll stop immediately.”
A couple days in, they discussed safe words and why they were necessary for more extreme play. Not once had she had to use it so far.
Her breath rushed from her. Did they think they might push her to the point she’d need it tonight? Of possibly having to tell them to stop what they were doing with a ridiculous, random word like cabbage ?
At first, she couldn’t even repeat it without giggling.
Dayne handed the blindfold to Heath, then pulled out two brown leather cuffs with some sort of wool lining.
Holy crap , they planned to restrain her. She had wanted tonight to be memorable, but…
Was she ready for this?
She did trust them to not do anything she couldn’t handle, and they hadn’t broken that trust yet.
Next, Dayne pulled a step stool out of another closet and placed it under the area with the reinforced ceiling. He hooked a vinyl-coated wire cable to one of the eyebolts in the ceiling before setting the step stool out of the way.
When the men then turned toward her, a shiver skittered down her spine at what she saw in their eyes.
They appeared starved.
“Time to get you naked.” Heath’s husky voice made her nipples agree with him.
They weren’t the only hard body parts in that room. She could see the bulge in Heath’s jeans and a glance at Dayne proved he was raring to go, too.
Not only did her nipples ache, her pussy twinged and her blood rushed through her veins.
Every inch of her body hummed in anticipation as the men circled her, working together to rid her of her shirt, remove her shoes, slide her pants down, unhook her bra, and dispose of her panties. Until, finally, she stood completely bare in front of them.
Her confidence with being naked in front of others had also grown exponentially this week.
“Hands,” was all Dayne had to say.
With her pulse pounding in her throat, she held out her hands. Dayne and Heath buckled a lined cuff on each of her wrists. This was the first time in her life she’d ever been restrained. She’d soon find out if she’d love it or hate it.
But if it wasn’t for Dayne and Heath, she’d never know. Without them, she’d never have had any kind of experience like this. And at this point, she couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
Dayne attached the carabiner dangling from the cable to the cuffs, then drew her arms up until they were stretched over her head, but left her feet firmly planted on the floor.
That was reassuring. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be hung from the ceiling like a side of beef.
Once she was secured, Dayne whispered, “Damn, that’s a sight. Beautiful, Cara. I think we’re the luckiest men on this resort right now.” His hand stroked her back, then squeezed her ass cheek.
At the same time Heath lightly kissed the tip of each nipple, murmuring, “Agreed.” He grasped her mound roughly while pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away.
After Dayne finished circling her, the two men faced each other.
Her pussy clenched simply from seeing the unbridled desire in their eyes as they took each other in.
Their uneven breathing and the unmistakable erections pressed against their zippers left no doubt about how turned on they made each other.
What a shame she’d miss seeing those reactions once they blindfolded her.
Taking turns, Dayne and Heath removed the other’s clothing piece by piece. Not a single inch of slowly exposed flesh was left untouched, kissed, or licked.
If she was the jealous type, this would be the time for that with the way they were fully appreciating one another. Their attention solely focused on the other man and not her.
Luckily, she wasn’t jealous. Not even a little. Instead, she was happy they shared that same passion with her.
After they finally parted, while stroking his cock, Dayne told her, “That’s only a preview of what’s to come.”
Grabbing the blindfold from the bed, he stepped behind her and slipped it over her head.
Her world went black.
Holy crap. She’d read plenty of spicy scenes involving women tied up and blindfolded. The well-written ones had always titillated her. Now it was no longer a fantasy and actually happening to her!
She managed to control her breathing so she wouldn’t hyperventilate.
It’ll be fine. Simply enjoy this new experience. It’s fine. It’s fine…
She had to trust that they knew what they were doing, so she forced herself to relax and go with the flow. She reminded herself that whatever they did was usually more for her benefit than their own.
She startled when Heath’s voice came from only inches away at the same time sharp metal points rolled across her upper back, pricking her.
“This is a Wartenburg wheel. It has sharp teeth that could easily draw blood if misused. I don’t want to cause you pain, but I want you to be hyper aware of everywhere I roll it.
If it becomes too much, say your safe word. ”
She nodded and breathlessly whispered, “I will.”
But once he gently rolled it across her back a few times, something else touched her. Light sweeps of what she assumed was a large feather followed the same path.
Every roll of the wheel was followed by a brush of the plume. The two items were polar opposites: the feather more of a caress, the pinwheel more like being poked with tiny ice picks.
She didn’t know whether to groan or laugh.
She did neither when a hand grabbed her ankle and lifted her leg. When the metal spikes rolled over the sole of her foot, she squealed. When the feather swept over the bottom of her foot next, she jerked with how much it tickled.
“Do you like that?” Dayne murmured.
“I’m not sure. Do it again,” she encouraged before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and holding her breath as the same actions were repeated on her other foot. This time, her leg jerked involuntarily and she hissed out a breath. “No. No… Cabbage!”
Immediately, her foot was released. “Stop everything or only that?” Heath asked.
“Doing that on my feet. It’s too much.” It made her want to jump out of her skin.
“Can we proceed with the wheel?” Dayne asked next.
“Yes.”
Out of the two, Dayne loved to talk dirty.
Tonight was no different. As both men worked, he released a constant stream of naughty words, filthy promises, and knee-wobbling guarantees while they continued to forge new paths all over her.
The wheel’s sharp points were even rolled back and forth over her nipples.
Funny how that turned her on, unlike with her feet.
She lost track of how long they continued to use the wheel and feather because she had fallen into some sort of trance. Or a state of euphoria.
Was this feeling of floating in the clouds similar to slipping into a subspace?
One night she had asked a barrage of questions about the Dom/sub relationship, a dynamic she ran across in the more erotic books she read. Despite the fact neither man took either of those roles, they answered her questions as thoroughly as they could.
While their answers piqued her interest, she wasn’t sure it was something she’d want to try.
Because of her current state of bliss, it took her a few seconds to realize they had stopped using the Wartenburg wheel and feather.
A sharp tug on her hair quickly cleared away that foggy feeling and one of them—she didn’t know which—began pulling a brush through her hair using long, sensual strokes.
She groaned at the pure Heaven of it.
It had to be Dayne wielding the hairbrush, because his pussy-twinging words began to wash over her all over again.
Of course, he didn’t stop there. The stiff brush bristles made contact with her skin, making her aware of every nerve ending in her body. Long strokes continued down her back, her arms, her legs. Across her butt cheeks, her belly, her breasts.
Her skin had to be turning pink by now.
But they weren’t done yet. Oh no. Not according to Dayne’s non-stop stream of wicked words. They wanted her climbing out of her own skin and begging them for release.
As if he could read her mind, he said, “You’ll come on our time, not yours.”
She shuddered.