27. Dirty Talker
Dirty Talker
Sam
It was impossible not to feel powerful as she secured Q’s wrists to the St. Andrew’s cross.
Her body brushed against his as his cock bobbed in front of him, rubbing her thighs and stomach.
The thick stalk was pointing right at her, the tip purplish with need, and a drop of precum pearled at the tip.
Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, her thumb sweeping over the head to swipe the precum. Groaning, Q thrust his hips forward, and the wooden cross creaked as he pulled on the cuffs around his wrists.
“Fuck that feels good.”
Even when he was bottoming, Q couldn’t help the dirty talk.
Sam couldn’t entirely hide her smile.
Though she could punish him for speaking out of turn, she wasn’t that kind of Dominant.
She enjoyed hearing what he had to say, especially since she knew it was being said out of pleasure.
It might be fun sometime to see if he could stay completely silent, but tonight she wanted to give him a reward, not punish him.
Well, not punish him much.
After the way he’d edged her, he definitely deserved a bit of torment, but she didn’t feel the need to add to it.
Having him tied up and at her mercy, her hand around his cock while he moved his hips, using her hand to pleasure himself…
then letting go. Yup. That was the kind of punishment she wanted to give him.
Q groaned, his brow wrinkling as he moved his hips, his body automatically seeking more stimulation.
“Spread your legs for me,” she ordered, kneeling down.
His cock bobbed next to her head, his ball sack hanging loose and low beneath it.
As he obeyed, she couldn’t resist leaning a little to the left, so her cheek rubbed against the side of his shaft, her hot breath on his sack, and she smiled when she heard him whimper.
Yeah, turnabout was definitely fair play.
Q was now completely immobilized, bound and spread for her pleasure. When she got to her feet, she met his blazing hot gaze, and his eyes were full of desire as he stared back at her.
“Now what, Mistress?” he asked.
Something in his voice made her think he was trying to sound confident, or even challenging, but all she heard was his hunger.
“Now I’m going to do some target practice,” she replied coolly. It was a test of her willpower not to laugh out loud when his eyes widened dramatically.
She wasn’t going to do anything too bad, but she wanted to give him a night to remember, which meant not going straight for his ass. First, she was going to use the crop on him a little, then when he was all heated and caught between pleasure and pain, then was she going to peg him.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath.
Well, yes. That was the idea. Sam barely managed to keep from cracking a smile.
Picking up the crop, she sauntered to stand in front of him, flicking it out.
He winced, but she wasn’t actually trying to flick him with it…
yet. The leather flap at the end touched his thigh, and she dragged it up his leg, gently brushing against his skin from his ankle to his hip bone.
Then she lifted it and brought it down on his inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not too harshly.
Erotic pain versus real pain.
Q hissed and shuddered in his bondage before stilling again, his eyes hot with lust as she repeated the process up his other leg.
This time, he was ready for the small blow, and his cock jerked in reaction.
“How much of a masochist are you, Q?” she asked, running the leather up the base of his cock to the tip. His expression was torn, but his cock jerked, rubbing against the flap, seeking the stimulation.
“Gorgeous, right now I’m not sure there’s much you could do to turn me off,” he admitted. “Though cock and ball torture has never been my thing.”
It wasn’t her thing either, but she was getting off on the trepidation wreathed around him. The apprehension. The knowledge she could hurt him… until he used his safeword, knowing he didn’t know how far she planned to go.
It was a mind fuck, and she was enjoying the hell out of it.
Q
She was fucking with his head.
At least, he was pretty sure she was just fucking with his head, and she didn’t actually plan to crop his cock. What would he do if she did?
Cock and ball torture wasn’t in his hard limits because he was a little curious about it, but he wasn’t ready to go hardcore during his first rodeo. Was he? The unknown was turning him on as much as anything else. His ass clenched around the plug, his muscles squeezing tightly around it.
When the crop lifted and moved, Q tensed, but it slowed just before hitting his cock.
The leather still stung where it hit the side of his shaft but not as badly as it could have.
She’d pulled the blow at the last second, leaving him panting, his heart racing, and, adrenaline rushing through him, even though she hadn’t actually done it.
The leather caressed his shaft up to the sensitive head, and Q thrust, trying to rub his erection along the instrument of torment. He gritted his teeth against a moan as she lifted it just an inch or two and brought the tip down on his tip, sending pain flashing through him.
Fuck that hurt.
Yet his dick throbbed even harder in the sting’s wake, as if she’d just stroked his cock instead of cropping it.
She lifted the crop again and brought it down on the other side of his shaft. The sting flared and pulsed through him, and Q couldn’t bite back the moan of pain.
“Regretting your decision to put yourself at my mercy?” she asked, running the tip of the crop up to his nipples. When she lifted the tip and brought it back down, right on the sensitive bud, Q cried out.
“No,” he said honestly, despite the way his nipple was smarting.
That hadn’t been quite as bad as nipple clamps and over with far more quickly.
The sting had also gone straight to his dick, turning his arousal from painful into a warm heat that filled him from the inside out.
He also felt a little unbalanced since she’d only tended to one of them, and he wanted her to hit the other one to even him out. “I’m here for your pleasure, Mistress.”
It had been the right thing to say. The crop lifted and fell, hitting his other nipple with the same force as the first. Q groaned as she began to flick the crop against his body—his chest, his ribs, his thighs, and a few little flicks against his dick.
She was very careful when she used it against the thick mushroom head of his cock, but it honestly didn’t matter.
He was so hard, and his cock was so eager for any kind of stimulation, he thought he might cum if she did hit the tip with more force. Instead, she scattered the pricks of pain all over his body, the crop coming down again and again. His eyes closed as pain and pleasure collided.
At a certain point, sensation became sensation, and his body hummed with the sheer bliss of it, no longer able to differentiate what hurt and what felt good. He was lost in a haze of sensual torture, his body aching for release, even as he drifted in clouds of pleasure.
When he felt her loosening the restraints on his right ankle, he realized she’d stopped cropping him. He hadn’t even noticed.
“Sam?” He murmured her name as she got to her feet, and she smiled at him. Oops, he hadn’t called her mistress. Or ma’am. Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind.
“Do you think you can walk? I want you in the bedroom.”
It took a moment for his brain to catch up.
The bedroom was the hotel room portion of the suite.
He nodded. Somehow, he’d make the trip. He was a little fuzzy on the details, but she got him out of the cuffs and into the bedroom, where he fell back on the bed, with his cock leaking precum onto his stomach.
Fuck, he couldn’t remember ever having been more turned on, and she was going to take his ass while he was in this state.
He was so lost in sensation, he didn’t even notice her getting undressed or putting the harness on.
One moment, he was staring at the ceiling, lying exactly how she’d left him, and the next, she was there, lifting his legs up into position and pulling the plug from his ass.
Q groaned as she eased the toy out of his hole, his muscles fluttering around it, then gaping emptily.
It was only a moment before the dildo on the strap-on was taking its place.
Sam leaned over him, watching his face as she began to slide the fake cock into him.
For some reason, Q had assumed she’d do this in doggy-style position and being face to face as she took his cherry made the moment disturbingly intimate.
Despite the haze he was in, he didn’t think he’d forget a moment of this, not for his entire life.
The way the cock felt sliding inside him, invading him.
Knowing Sam was the one controlling the toy and that he was giving himself over to her.
The way his insides clenched and tingled around the insertion, his body shuddering.
The dragging rasp of friction as she pulled out partway before shoving in deep, the toy rubbing over his prostate.
Her hand gripped his cock, pumping as she thrust, filling him, and pleasuring him in every way possible.
Reaching up beside his head to grab onto the sheets, Q arched and cried out with a husky groan as she fucked him. Heat and need slid up and down his spine. His cock thrust into her hand before his hips fell to meet her thrusts, the motions a perfect symphony of sweet bliss.
This was completely different from any of the classes, completely different from the toys and wands he’d tried out in the pursuit of knowing what to do with a sub’s ass.
The way his prostate throbbed and pulsed inside him matched the rhythm of her hand, and he could feel his orgasm moving toward him like a tidal wave coming in to shore.
“Fuck! Sam!” He writhed, ecstasy pouring through him as the tidal wave hit, dragging him under into the tumult of sweet release. Hot fluid spurted, covering her breasts as she still moved the toy inside him, sending wave after wave of hot rapture pouring out of him.
Sam
Cock in one hand, the remote to the vibrator inside her was in the other.
As Q’s climax hit and he began to cum hot jets of seed all over her breasts, Sam squeezed his cock even tighter as she upped the intensity of her vibrator.
Watching him moving beneath her, seeing his expressions change, knowing she was the one giving him such inexpressible pleasure, had her quivering with her own need.
As he emptied himself on her like a fountain, she pushed in deep, rubbing her swollen clit against the harness while the vibrator inside her reached a fever pitch.
She cried out with him, her body throbbing and pulsing with its own pleasure, panting together as every ounce of ecstasy was wrung from them.
The vibrations quickly became too much, so she shut them off, then slumped over Q, her breasts coated in his cum.
The warm liquid dripped off her nipple onto his belly, and she had the strangest urge to bend down and lick it off.
Giving in, she smiled when he moaned, both at her movement and watching her actions.
“That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said hoarsely. His head fell back, eyes closing, as she moved away, the strap-on cock sliding from his body.
Watching him while she’d taken his anal virginity had been the hottest thing she’d ever seen, but she didn’t say so. She didn’t trust her voice.
If she tried to speak, she might tell him she was in love with him.