San Francisco Love: San Francisco Trilogy: Part Three Page 8

  Those emotions never came. Yes, she was anxious about Ajay spanking her, and yes, she wished it was James, but she wasn’t scared. Ajay was touching her only because James wanted it to be this way. James had given the other man permission to touch her, and though the last time she’d seen him, he’d been five feet away, she knew that he would be watching over her, protecting her even as he allowed her to be used.

  That is really fucked up.

  Christiana ignored that little voice in her head and remained where she was, submitting to the firm but not terribly painful spanking. It wasn’t making her wildly aroused the way it would have if James were the one doing it, but it wasn’t turning her off the way it had with Dino.

  The difference was James. The difference was her submission to him.

  She’d do anything for him. Let him do anything to her.

  “I was planning to spank her,” James said from beside her. “Now I can move on to other things. Thank you, Ajay.”

  “Ah, maybe you will let me give her a few proper ones?”

  “Three.” James untied the bow at her hip, and the loincloth fell away, leaving her completely naked.

  Smack.

  The spank landed in the center of her ass, and Christiana squealed, eyes squeezed tight.

  Smack.

  That one hurt. Christiana started to rise, but James reached out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and holding her down. At his touch she relaxed, and when the final blow hit the sensitive spot where ass met upper thigh, all she did was whimper.

  “Well done,” James murmured.

  His praise warmed her, and when he released her hair, she straightened. Her ass throbbed, her nipples were tight, and her pussy was wet. Ajay was holding a small round paddle with fur on one side.

  She lowered her chin. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You are most welcome. Most welcome. Are you opening her to fucking?”

  “No,” James said firmly.

  If he’d said yes, she wouldn’t have objected.

  You’ll do anything for him. Let him do anything to you.

  She’d had that same thought only moments before, but now it wasn’t sexy, it was alarming.

  James clipped one end of a lightweight chain to her collar using a small padlock. The padlock hung against the hollow of her throat, heavy and cold. “Come, my sweet. It’s time to see what Solomon made for you.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 6

  She had no interest in elaborate rope bondage, until now. She’d enjoyed the times James had tied her down or made belts and cuffs using rope—including the night before—but she hadn’t understood the appeal of the more elaborate, detailed rope bondage until her Master started tying her up that night at Solomon’s skin party.

  James took a long coil of thin black rope and started weaving and looping it around her torso to create a harness. It wound through the loops on her collar, crossed her chest above, below, and between her breasts, and created a latticework pattern across her abdomen. When he was done and stepped back, she was aware of a strange, calming pressure. She remembered something she’d once read, about how people with anxiety sometimes felt better with the pressure of weighted blankets.

  She inhaled deeply, ribs expanding, the pressure of the ropes increasing. Now it wasn’t just calming, it was arousing. Her breasts were both compressed and put on display, her nipples hard and ready to be touched.

  Was he about to pierce her nipples?

  That thought made her heart rise in her throat, but she remained outwardly calm and submissive.

  James eyed his rope work, then nodded in satisfaction. “You’re to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Stay here.” He walked away, leaving her standing on the large square mat he’d led her to after Ajay had spanked her. It reminded her of the wrestling mats they’d had in her high school gym.

  James was holding a small box with a large shell carving on top when he returned. She curled her fingers, nails digging into her palms. This must have been what Solomon was talking about.

  I wish he’d tied my arms. I don’t know if I can hold still for this if it hurts a lot.

  She blinked in surprise at her own thought. She was wishing for more bondage, not because it was part of their play, but because she wanted to be able to hold still for him, be obedient for him, when he pierced her nipples.

  James opened the box, tilting it so she could see what was inside. The small box, about the size of a checkbook though several inches tall, held two sun pendants made of gold.

  That wasn’t what she’d expected. She leaned forward, the rope shifting every time she moved. Each piece was about the diameter of a golf ball. They were stylized, the wavy rays of the matched suns ending in curls, with a circular cutout in the center of the body of the sun, almost as if a large jewel were meant to be set there.

  She looked from the box to James’s face. He was smiling. That wicked smile she loved.

  Christiana pursed her lips. “Master?”

  “Yes, my sweet?”

  “What are those?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” James scooped both out with one hand, then set the box aside. He held them up so she could see them in profile. They were slightly curved, like a dome, the highest point the cut out in the center.

  She scrunched up her nose and looked at James. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand, Master.”

  “You will.”

  “I was also afraid of that.” Her wry comment made him laugh.

  He leaned over to where he’d set the box on the arm of a nearby chair and grabbed something out of the bottom of it. It was a tiny tube, about the size of a superglue tube. Was that lube? He tucked the tube under a coil of her rope harness, the small thing cool against her skin. Then he bent his head to her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

  Christiana let her head fall back in pleasure as he sucked and licked her. He concentrated on sucking, pulling at her with his lips. Then he released her nipple with a pop, and pressed a sun pendant onto the tip of her breast, her nipple poking through the center, the rays of the sun curving against and partially covering her areola.

  The metal was cold, and her already hard nipple tightened. The opening in the center was just wide enough for her nipple without constricting it, but like the ropes, she was aware of the pressure. A shudder of need made her whole body twitch.

  “Master,” she panted.

  He bent to the other breast, licking and sucking before applying the second sun. The jewelry clung to her breasts, held in place by her nipples poking through the centers and the saliva he’d left behind on her skin, but she tried to breathe shallowly so they wouldn’t fall off. James plucked the tube from under the rope and held it up, wiggling it.

  “Eyelash glue,” he said.

  Christiana stared at him, so aroused her thoughts were pinging around, and for a moment she thought she’d heard him wrong. It was hard to think when a litany of want, want, need, need, was throbbing in her brain. “What?”

  “Eyelash glue, to help hold them on for the duration of the scene.” He uncapped the tube, then tugged the suns away from her skin without removing them completely, placing dabs of eyelash glue on the underside before pressing them down firmly. When he was done, she looked down at herself. Her breasts were framed by rope and now adorned by jewelry. Her nipples were hard, brown-pink nubs protruding from the center of the suns. James grasped both nipples, tugging then folding them up against the warming gold of the jewelry.

  “Master, please,” she whispered.

  “Please what?”

  “I need you. I want you. So much. I can’t wait.”

  “You will wait.” There was steel in his words. She bowed her head in acknowledgment of his command, even as that hard, dominant tone fed the flames of her desire.

  “I want to take you back to our room, get rid of the ropes and the jewelry, and just fuck you.” Now the words were soft, and when h
e touched her cheek, she laid her head in his hand. “But I won’t. Not tonight. Tonight is going to be special.”

  He stepped back. “Go over to the wall, bend at the waist, arms straight, palms on the wall, legs spread.”

  She obeyed, waiting there, her naked body on display. She was tense, assuming someone would come over and start touching her, fondling her, but no one did. The three-strike paddling she’d gotten hadn’t been hard enough to leave any lingering heat or sting, and part of her hoped that someone would come by and spank her so hard that she would still feel it tomorrow.

  Instead James returned, and out of the corner of her eye she saw him set down his kit. He opened it, then came to her side, holding something up so she could see it.

  An anal hook.

  She couldn’t stop the whimper.

  It looked like a giant fishing hook, but instead of a barb at the end, there was a large, smooth ball. She’d seen them in porn, but never in person. It looked larger, and scarier, than it did on her computer screen.

  “I’m going to insert the anal hook and use rope to attach it to your hair, which I will braid. The point of this is so that for the rest of the night, whenever your head moves, you will pull on the hook. It is also easier to wear for long periods than a plug.” He slapped her ass.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He started with her hair, gathering it together as she stayed bent and braced on the wall. He braided it, then tied the end with a long piece of twine.

  She closed her eyes, listening since she couldn’t see without straining her neck. She heard the now familiar click of lube being opened, the snap of a glove.

  Then the cold, slick feeling of the lube dripping down the crack of her ass, followed by the warmth of his gloved fingers. He worked the lube around and then into her anus. She pressed back against him greedily, craving the fullness and stretch of his fingers working her. He added what she thought might be a third finger, pumping his hand in short thrusts. She relaxed, enjoying the slightly painful stretch.

  Then his hand was gone and something cold and hard was pressing against her. It wasn’t tapered like a plug. It felt like he was trying to shove something flat and far too large into her. She bent her elbows, shifting close to the wall and away from the plug.

  He slapped her ass. “No, Christiana. Stay in position.”

  “It’s too big, Master.”

  “It’s not. It may hurt going in, but I know you can take it.” He pumped the ball against her anus in a gentle massage. “Can’t you? You’ll take it for me, won’t you, my sweet?”

  The words pulled at her, dragging her down in the warm depths of submission. “Yes, Master.”

  “Straighten your arms and relax.”

  She obeyed, and this time when he applied pressure, the ball popped in. She yelped, the sound echoing off the wall, and tears stung her eyes, but it was followed by a sweet ache. He pressed the ball in deeper, and she felt the long end of the anal hook nestle against the crease of her ass and small of her back. There was a tug at her hair as he tied the twine through the hole at the end of the plug.

  “Stand up.”

  When she stood, the hook shifted inside her, sliding out a bit due to its own weight. But it didn’t slide out all the way. Experimentally she turned her head side to side. It wasn’t until she lowered her chin to her chest that she felt the hook move in truth, her scalp prickling as she pulled on the twine and essentially fucked herself with the anal toy.

  James put his hands on her arms and turned her to face him. She glanced down at his cock, which was tenting the front of his thin pants. She licked her lips and looked at him.

  He was slightly flushed, though she knew it wasn’t from embarrassment. James jerked her to him and kissed her hard. “I’m going to see this through,” he whispered against her lips.

  “See what through?”

  He released her, then grabbed a short bench from against the wall, bringing it over and placing it in the center of the mat. “Lie down on your back.”

  It took some maneuvering for her to lie down, and she yelped several times when she accidentally sat on the hook, forcing it deeper, but she finally managed to do what he’d ordered. Her knees were bent, feet on the floor. Not knowing what to do with her arms, she laced her fingers together and laid them on her stomach.

  James loomed over her, yet more rope in his hands. “I’m going to suspend you from the ceiling. It might not seem very intense, but suspension bondage brings a kind of helplessness that can affect people in different ways. That means I need you to communicate with me.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  James looked at her, then knelt beside her and started working the ropes. She didn’t understand what the end product would be, but lifted her back or butt when he ordered. He bound her wrists to her thighs as he wrapped her upper legs in rope. He brought over a spreader bar and attached it not to her ankles, but to her legs just below the knee.

  It wasn’t until the spreader bar that she started to feel nervous. She was so spread, so exposed.

  When he was done, there was rope around her lower back, thighs, calves, and ass, in addition to the rope harness he’d created for her upper body. She could barely move except to breathe and wiggle her fingers and toes.

  James walked to the wall, and flipped a small switch. She was staring at the ceiling, and her jaw dropped open when she realized what she’d taken to be some sort of unlit light fixture started to lower toward her. It was a large iron grid, about a meter square. When it was three feet above her, he took the trailing ends of rope and started tying them to the grid.

  Christiana’s breath sped up as rope pulled taut. She was helpless. So helpless.

  “Talk to me,” James urged.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m helpless.”

  “You’ve been helpless with me before. Been bound before.”

  “It feels different, Master.”

  He tied the last rope, then bent to flick one adorned nipple with his tongue. “It is,” he agreed.

  James walked over to the wall and flipped the switch. The grid started to rise toward the ceiling.

  Her legs rose first, the rope between the grid and the spreader bar the shortest. Then her hips, her torso, and finally her head were lifted off the bench. She swayed slightly as she rose in the air, and had to close her eyes against a sudden sense of vertigo.

  “Talk to me,” James said again.

  “Please make it stop swaying. Please.”

  James touched her shoulders, lifted her head so he could look at her. The way he’d tied the ropes meant she wasn’t lying perpendicular to the floor, but was at a slight incline with her head lower than her hips. Her spread knees pointed to the ceiling, leaving her pussy and filled ass totally exposed.

  Yet her weight was evenly distributed by the way he’d bound her, and nothing hurt or pinched.

  Her head was just about level with his crotch.

  “You’re not swaying,” he assured her. “That’s why I made sure to use multiple tie points. Take a breath.”

  “I don’t know how long I can stay like this,” she whispered. The blood wasn’t exactly rushing to her head, but it would if she stayed in this position for too long.

  He grinned. “You won’t be.” He looked up, then beckoned with a wave of his hand.

  Who was he motioning over?

  Soon enough, she had her answer.

  Everyone.

  He’d invited everyone to touch her.

  If she lifted her head—which made the hook shift in her ass—she could see the people who approached her, but when the first person spread her pussy lips open and started to suck her clit, she let her head drop. A dark, dangerous pleasure rolled through her. Hands roved over her body. Someone played with her nipples, delicately plucking the tips.

  “Master,” she whimpered.

  James bent over her, gaze intently searching her face. “Yes, my sweet?”

  “Ma
y I come?”

  He blinked, and she saw the surprise in his eyes, followed quickly by a savage delight.

  He kissed her, and her brain was jangling as it tried to make sense of the feel of the sweet kiss from the man she loved while another set of lips, a stranger’s lips, sucked her clit.

  “Come as much and as often as you’d like,” he all but purred.

  Someone nipped at the bare skin of her calf. Teeth scraped over her clit in a hard caress. Her nipples were pinched just enough to add a hint of pain to all the other sensations, and Christiana came.

  She screamed in pleasure and the person toying with her clit stopped, stepped away, only to be replaced by someone new. Hands and mouths were everywhere, touching any place the rope wasn’t. There were too many sensations to make sense of, and she started to tremble.

  James stayed by her head, sometimes cradling it in his hand, letting her rest the weight of her skull on him. Other times she hung her head back, looking at the world upside down, crying out in pleasure as the hands and lips that roved over her naked body brought her to one orgasm after another.

  It went on for what could have been an hour, or could have been days. Her head was starting to pound, her clit ached from being touched, and her nipples were so sensitive that even the brush of air was exquisite torment.

  James tapped her lower lip, and when he spoke his voice was rough, almost hoarse. “Open.”

  She parted her lips and then his cock was there, the damp head rubbing against her lips before sliding in. He cradled her neck with one hand, helping her adjust the angle of her head. He slid in deep, deeper. She gagged, but he kept going, and she felt him deep in her throat. For a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  Couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t breathe.

  And she wanted more.

  James withdrew until she was able to stroke the head of his cock with her tongue. “Breathe,” he commanded.

  She inhaled, exhaled, and after she inhaled again, he thrust in.

  Someone pinched her clit, twisting it a little before the wet bud slipped from between their fingers.