San Francisco Lost: San Francisco Trilogy: Part Two Page 8

  Luckily you have two very nice collars in your bag, a voice inside his head insisted.

  And then what? Then you collar her and after a few months when you get bored you leave her? She deserved more than that.

  Her arms slid around his waist and her sweater opened. She leaned into him, her bare breasts brushing against his chest. He felt her nipples harden into small, tight points, and the gentle feelings faded to be replaced by desire.

  He slid his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and deepened the kiss. She opened under him, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. He explored her, tasted her, and then nipped her lower lip.

  “Naked,” he panted against her cheek. “I want you naked.”

  She shed the sweater without hesitation.

  “Arms up, behind your head.”

  She watched him with a hot, needy gaze as she obeyed, her sweet breasts begging for his touch. He was more than happy to oblige. He cupped and kneaded them, thumbing the nipples.

  “You’ll tell me if you start to feel small or sad,” he demanded.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “How do you feel right now?” he asked.

  “Want you,” she panted, “so much.”

  “Good. That’s how you should feel.” He pinched her nipples, pulling until she lifted onto her toes. “You make me want to do wicked things to you,” he told her.

  “I want you to do wicked things to me.”

  “On your knees.”

  This time she hesitated a moment, looking at him from beneath her lashes. He needed to rewrite what had just happened, to help her associate submission and obeying orders with good things rather than negative feelings. The easiest way to do that would be to have her come in each position, but that wasn’t really submission.

  He knew she could find subspace, and he was also sure he could help her find it again without taking the easy path of repeated orgasms.

  When she continued to hesitate, he reached out and flicked her nipple. “Do you want to be punished?”

  That was a risky question; it might pull her out of the moment.

  She fought a smile, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitching. “That depends on the punishment, Sir.”

  Yes, yes. This feels right. This is what you’ve been missing.

  “On your knees, my sweet. I want my cock in that pretty mouth.”

  She knelt, without hesitation this time.

  “Unfasten my pants.”

  She fumbled a little with his belt, and was none too gentle, yanking down his pants and boxers in a move that lacked grace but spoke volumes about her enthusiasm. His cock sprang free, not quite fully hard. She reached for him, but he blocked her hands.

  “Ah, ah, ah. Mouth only.”

  She looked up at him, then at his cock. James unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, not wanting the tails to detract from his view.

  She leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock slowly. Every sensitive nerve ending hummed with pleasure, and he hardened. She did it again, carefully wetting the head of his cock, then licking the side of his dick from head to base before shifting to the other side and repeating the motion.

  “Are you teasing me?” he asked in a low rumble.

  Christiana looked up at him, then carefully took the head of his cock in her mouth before nodding, his cock bobbing up and down as she did so.

  “Naughty girl. You’ll get a spanking for this.”

  She froze, eyes round with a hint of real fear.

  He raised a brow. “Oh, not on your poor ass. But there are plenty of other places I can spank.”

  She blinked, then blinked again.

  James grinned down at her, and slid his hands into her hair. “Relax,” he commanded. “I’m going to fuck your mouth.”

  He slid in, that first rush of heat and warmth surrounding him. Driving him closer to orgasm than it should have. When he bumped the back of her throat, he felt her swallow, and when he went deeper still, he felt her gag. He pulled back, letting her adjust, then thrust in again.

  He went slowly for the first ten thrusts, then sped up, fucking her mouth in earnest. She clutched his hips and he released her hair with one hand, using that hand to grab her arms, forcing her to stack her hands on top of her head. When they were both in place, he wrapped his hand over her fingers, squeezing. He felt her shiver, and this time when he thrust in, he was able to go deeper before she gagged. The bondage, even if it was only the presence of his hands holding her, helped her submit. He made a mental note to get some rope, cuffs, scarves… anything he could use to tie her up or down.

  He was nearing his own orgasm, his cock twitching, his breathing coming fast. He wrapped his hand more securely in her hair, tightening enough so she’d feel the pull, and then thrust in once, twice, and a third time.

  He shouted as he came, pulling out at the last moment, his come splattering in thick white ribbons across her breasts.

  They were both panting, and as he released her, she licked her lips. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Horny,” she whispered. She looked down at her chest, then back up at him. “Why did you pull out?”

  “Because it’s the polite thing to do, unless swallowing has been prearranged.”

  He went to the bathroom under the stairs, returning with his pants fastened and a hand towel. He knelt and used the corner he’d run under the tap to wipe her breasts clean, then switched to the dry end to wipe her breasts once more, this time rubbing the terrycloth on her nipples so she moaned and arched into him. Casting the towel aside, he helped her rise.

  “That’s where we’ll start,” he said when they were both standing.

  She inquisitively tipped her head. “We haven’t started?”

  He chuckled, then kissed her forehead. There was no reason he needed to do that. He just wanted to kiss her. “We’re going to do a checklist. And then we’re going to negotiate a scene.”

  Chapter 6

  “Comfortable?” James asked casually.

  Christiana pursed her lips, looked down at herself, and then back at him. “Oh yes, extremely. And warm, too.”

  He’d turned on the gas fireplace in the small parlor near the back of the house, and positioned her in front of it. She was deliciously naked, except for some rope. He’d created a belt and cuffs out of black nylon with a foot of rope connecting each wrist restraint back to the belt. It was a modified upper-body hobble, almost like the chains some prisoners wore, except much sexier. She was resting on a pillow on the floor before the fire, reclining on her side propped up on one elbow, arm angled so her wrist was near her waist.

  He glanced at the papers he’d printed out. Luckily the well-equipped house had a small business center, so he’d been able to make two copies each of both a BDSM checklist and a contract.

  He planned to start with the checklist.

  James took a sip from the glass of champagne he’d poured and raised a brow. She twisted forward to pick up her own glass that was sitting on the floor in front of the pillow. She had to duck her head and hold the flute near the bottom of the stem, but she was able to take a sip. After carefully setting the glass down, she pursed her lips once more.

  “Did you do this so you could watch me fumble?” She wiggled the arm not supporting her, tugging on the short length of rope that bound her wrist to her waist.

  “No, I did it so that even though I’m not touching you at the moment, you would be able to feel me. To feel my control.”

  Her lids lowered and she made a soft humming noise.

  The firelight added hints of umber to her dark hair, and painted her lovely naked skin with golden highlights. The curve of her hip was particularly inviting looking. Her pussy was no longer waxed smooth, but had a soft pelt of neatly trimmed short hair, which looked very pettable.

  If he didn’t stop staring and start talking, they weren’t going to get through the checklist. He’d end up with his face buried between those lovely thighs, tasting that pussy.

/>   He picked up one of the checklists he’d printed and stapled, then rose and handed it to her. One of the reasons he’d left as much slack in the rope as he had was so she’d be able to hold the paper up in a position to comfortably read.

  He resumed his seat. “This is a checklist. My checklist, in fact.”

  “Your checklist?”

  “It’s one I’ve modified somewhat and use when I need to.”

  “When you need to?”

  “As you well know, I don’t always pre-negotiate my scenes this formally.” He held up his own copy. “Sometimes it’s more… organic.”

  She looked at the first page. “I’ve read about these, but the one I saw was actually more for leather daddies.”

  “Given where you live, that’s understandable. San Francisco’s kink scene is unrivaled for things like that. This one is geared specially for heterosexual, male-dominant play. The checklist is often underutilized. There’s a private club in Los Angeles, Las Palmas Obscuras, that has a checklist game.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

  “Everyone in the club was assigned a partner or two and a letter. They have to try everything on the list that starts with that letter.”

  “Oh.” She glanced down at the paper, flipping to the second page. “Ohhhhhh.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I’m going to need a pen, and some more slack, if I’m going to fill this out.”

  “We’re going to fill it out together.” He picked up a pen from the table and removed the cap. “We’ll also discuss each item.”

  “Talk about them… out loud?”

  James leaned forward, peering at her face. Because of the fire, she was slightly backlit. “Are you blushing?”

  “Maybe…”

  “You are delightful, Christiana.”

  “You are a pervert, James.”

  James burst into full, genuine laughter. He felt almost content sitting with her now, talking and enjoying one another’s company. She was, thanks to her lack of clothing and the ropes, still undeniably submitting, yet this felt so much better than when he’d tried to push the issue of positions and used her as a table. He’d known women who loved that, but not Christiana. No, she wasn’t meant to be silent and still. She was meant to be teased and played with and talked to.

  “First item,” he said when his laughter died down. “Abrasion.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” she said quickly. “So, put me down as a ‘no’ for that one.”

  “Yes, you do—I mentioned it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, though you may have been slightly distracted at the time. We’ll mark this one as a yes.”

  “I thought I was supposed to be telling you what I want.”

  If she’d been serious, he would have backed down, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. “Now, now, where is your sense of adventure? Don’t you want to know what it is before you say ‘no’?”

  “Nope. I’m looking at this list and there are plenty of intense things on here.”

  “I thought you were braver than that,” he said in mock disappointment.

  “Braver?”

  “You’re saying ‘no’ without even knowing what you might be missing, because you’re scared. That’s cowardly.”

  “I know you’re playing me, but okay, fine. What’s abrasion?”

  “I’d start with a fur mitten, and I’d just stroke you. From your neck, down your arms, your back, your sides, your breasts.” He watched her as he spoke. “Your legs, your ass. Then I’d get a hairbrush, the one I used to spank you. Do you remember what it felt like when I used the bristles on you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, voice both soft and heavy with arousal. “That’s right, you talked about abrasion play when you had the brush.”

  “I’d use those bristles to stroke your skin, not too hard, but it would scratch, enough to make your skin sensitive. The blood would come to the surface, you see. I’d stroke you everywhere with those bristles, and then I’d go back to the glove. Every place I’d used the brush, now I’d use the soft glove, but you’d be so sensitive it would feel incredibly different. Then I’d concentrate on your nipples. Your pussy.”

  She was breathing hard, her gaze focused on the paper, as if by not looking at him she could hide her reactions from him, but she couldn’t. He knew. He could tell how his words were affecting her.

  “Abrasion play,” he said quietly. “Interested, Willing to Try, or Hard No?”

  “Interested,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Next is Anal Plugs.”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “But I want to hear you say it.”

  “Interested,” she said, rather grumpily.

  He made a note on the paper. “And next, Anal Plugs, Large.”

  “How large?” she asked nervously.

  “Would you like to feel stretched full?”

  “I felt that way with a regular plug, Sir.”

  “What if I had you kneeling for hours, one by one working larger and larger plugs into your tight hole? Stretching you, filling you, as I teased your clit with my fingers.” He painted a picture with words, his cock—which had been semi-hard—now fully erect as he pictured doing what he was saying.

  “Interested,” she panted.

  James grinned. They worked their way through the list. She had a few ‘hard no’ items, the first of which was, unsurprisingly, “Beating, Hard.” She also had no interest in cages, caning, chores, enemas, face slapping, foot worship, harnesses, humiliation, piercing, sensory deprivation, tens units, and wrestling.

  The only one he was rather disappointed by was piercing, because he thought her nipples would look lovely with small gold bars in them. Everything else on his edited list was something she was, at the very least, willing to try, if not something she’d indicated she was interested in.

  James had finished his small glass of champagne by the time they were done. He slid out of his chair and sat on the floor facing her. He lifted her still half-full glass and held it to her lips. She took a sip, holding his gaze.

  “How do you feel now?” he asked as she swallowed.

  “Hot and bothered.”

  He grinned. “I was rather surprised by some of the things you were interested in.”

  She frowned. “Did I say something weird?”

  “No, not at all. I will admit I’m having a difficult time not thinking about triple penetration.”

  “You said that wouldn’t be with other people.” She looked a bit alarmed.

  He stroked her cheek. “I won’t let anyone else penetrate you. That is my right, and mine alone.”

  But now that they were doing this, and given the two-week timeframe, he had an idea. It would take some planning, so it would have to wait, but if it worked out…

  Oh, the things he would do to her.

  She was watching him, hopeful and hungry, so he made sure she knew what he would do to her. “I would plug your ass, put a dildo in your pussy, hold them both in place with some nice rope work, and then fuck your mouth. Or perhaps a nice penis gag in your mouth while I fuck your ass.”

  Her eyes widened, and he realized what he’d said. “This is theoretical, of course. Our existing rule of no penetrative vaginal or anal sex still stands.”

  She reached for her champagne, but he scooped up the flute, holding it to her lips. She took a long sip before pulling back, indicating she was done. He watched her swallow. Finally, she spoke. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why aren’t we having penetrative vaginal or anal sex?”

  “You bring up a good point, something we haven’t discussed, but which is important in the community. You must always make sure that before you have any sort of sexual contact with someone, you have proof that they have no STDs or STIs, and if you are going to have penetrative sex, that you have a contraception plan.”

  As he’d been speaking, her gaze slid away from him. �
�We didn’t do that.”

  “Because the club has rules.”

  “Oh. Another consequence of my lies.”

  James cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “What are you thinking?”

  “I have birth control. An IUD. And I’m clean. I mean, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

  “I assumed as much,” he said. “But you should never assume. Always have it built into your contract that you receive a copy of an STD test, provided not by them, but directly from a medical professional. In the case of the society, on alternating months someone onsite runs the tests, and the results go directly to Lillian.”

  Christiana was silent, head bent so he couldn’t read her expression. He let her have the silence, not sure if she just needed time to think. “James, I want to ask you something.”

  He frowned in concern at her tone, and the fact that she’d used his first name. “Anything.”

  “Please don’t… please don’t talk about what I should do when I’m with other people.”

  Other people? No, she was his.

  He squashed that thought. “Part of training is to make sure you know how to keep yourself safe. As you have discovered, it’s important.”

  He was close enough that he saw her clench her teeth, the tendons in her neck flexing. “I understand.”

  “Let’s go over the contract.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  He hesitated. “Do you really, or are you uncomfortable and trying to leave the conversation?”

  “Both.”

  “Why are you uncomfortable?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that.”

  “Christiana, I need honesty from you if—”

  “And I need to keep some of my feelings to myself,” she snapped. She struggled to her feet, leaving James sitting on the floor.

  He let her walk away.

  She washed her hands, having to stand on her toes and lean forward to reach. Once she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair hung loose and a bit tangled around her head, the tousled style courtesy of his hands. Thinking about how it had felt to kneel before him, listening and feeling him come apart in her arms, muted the gut-twisting dread that had crept in when he started talking about the contract.