Chapter Seventy-Six
… I add a coil of the silky rope my Master likes.
Vibe?
Egg?
What would he like?
Hmmm…
He needs to vent some energy…
Picking out the flogger I gave him as a birthday gift, I arrange it near the cuffs, fanning out the falls to display them to best effect. Velvety soft leather, braided red and black, it's a lovely piece, and I know he enjoys using it on me.
The scent of the leather, waxed and supple…
The swish of the air…
The bite of the falls as they kiss my flesh…
The warmth of my Master's flesh as afterwards he holds me, stroking over the skin balm…
Pussy pumps and clenches.
Satisfied I have everything at the ready, I check myself in the mirror, flick open the negligee to display my cleavage up front, then pad downstairs…
… and as I turn into the hall from the bottom step, all but walk into Ross, a mug of cocoa steaming in one hand…
He halts mid-stride… Gapes and splutters... “Whoa!” Then, his free palm raised, he u-turns down the hall and exits through the back door.
My cheeks are warm.
Whoops!
*****
I push at my Master’s office door. He's still there, crouched over his desk, reading something in a manila file, scribbling a note in the margin. A mug of cocoa sits on the desktop beside him.
“Master?”
He doesn't respond.
Raising my voice a notch, “Master?”
“Hmmm? Elizabeth?” He glances up, then jolts up, sitting upright to swipe off his glasses. Swivelling his chair through one-eighty to face me, his face creases to a smile as he sets the spectacles down by the cocoa.
For a moment, head tilted, he simply looks at me, then he pats his thigh. Sliding onto his lap, I hook an arm around his neck. He hooks an arm around my waist. “For sure, my Love, you know the way to a man's heart.”
“I know I interrupted your work…”
“Fuck the work.” He casts a grim look at the manila file. “It's rubbish anyway. I’m trying to fit figures to facts when it’s the facts that are wrong.” He seems to notice the cocoa, as though for the first time, then gulps half the mug in two swallows. “I needed that. And I'll do better with this rubbish…” He taps the file… “… if I come back to it tomorrow with a clear head. Um…” His gaze swings toward the door. “Ross…”
“I don’t think Ross will disturb us.”
*****
Back upstairs, “My Love, you look spectacular. Thank you.” As I expected, his fingers roam my hair, sliding out pins and clips, then finger-combing my long locks loose, letting them tumble over my shoulders and down to my waist. “Such beautiful hair,” he murmurs. “One of the loveliest things about you.”
His hands continue their exploration of my body, skimming my hips, silhouetting my waist, shadowing my shoulders. Pausing over my breasts, he de-cups them from the corset, lifting them free to sit perched above the ribbing. Stooping, he settles his mouth over one, palms the other. Teeth nibble and pluck at one nipple. Fingers nip and pull at the other, sensation sizzling south, spiking into my already melting core.
My Master is wearing his customary white linen shirt with the black jeans he knows I like. I’ve noticed recently that his wardrobe contains more of both jeans and shirts than when we first met.
Unravelling his tie, for a moment, he looks about to slide it from under his collar. Then, glancing sidelong, he takes one of the cuffs I set out, letting it dangle. “Good choice,” he says. Taking off the tie, he lays it across the back of a chair.
Holding my eyes, he unfastens the top button of his shirt. “The rest are yours, Elizabeth.”
Gliding my palms up his chest, I slip open the second button, then the third, working my way down before, glancing up for permission, I tug the shirt free of his belt and unfasten the final button.
My Master. So handsome. Older, but he cares for himself. His chest hair is flecked silver. Nonetheless, his abs and pecs are taut, his waist firm and tight, his belly flat.
Below his belt though, he is not flat. The dark fabric of his jeans strains, the buttoned front stretched taut into horizontal creases. Inside me, anticipation brims, rippling my flesh. Sucking in my lips, I look up to meet the steel-blue of his eyes.
“On your knees, Elizabeth.”
He offers a hand, helping me down. My face level with his bulging groin, it's not hard to figure what is required of me. Once more glancing up for permission, I unbuckle his belt then work at this second set of buttons.
It's not so easy. A tight fit now, the buttonholes are stretched wide against the denim, gripping the brass edges of the buttons. After a moment, my Master reaches down, flipping the top fastening from its denim anchor. The remainder pop open in quick succession.
Delving in, I find his engorged shaft still encased in the soft cotton of his KCs, but I slip fingers inside, wrapping around hot, hard, flesh.
Such a strange thing, an erect penis. Firm and stiff, and yet yielding at the same time. Velvety skin over the iron core.
The tracery of veins bulging blue and purple against the purple-red of the shaft.
The rigidity of the shaft against the spongy resistance of the head.
The smooth warmth of the skin against the gleam of the seeping dewdrop at the slit.
The droplet quivers and throbs, light shivering over its surface. Laying a fingertip over it, I glide pre-cum smoothly over the head, lubricating the movement as I work the springy flesh between finger and thumb.
From above, a hiss of in-drawing breath, then a slow release. And as I ring the head with my looped finger and thumb, my Master heaves air once more. The seepage grows, my contact slick and firm.
Slipping down the shaft, I pump, then fasten my lips around the head. It's salty and bitter-sweet on my tongue, coating the inside of my mouth. A hand settles behind my head, easing me to a rhythm, in no way forcing me, leaving me the control, but guiding me to my Master's wishes…
Until…
The guiding hand grips into my hair… "Enough!” … easing me away. He tucks himself away, buttoning up. “Over the bed-footer, Elizabeth. Bend forward.”
Obeying, I reach left and right for the posts, but I'm intercepted. Cuffs clink open. Click closed again around my wrists.
My breasts swing, vibrating with my heartbeat. And from the collar too, the dangling chains quiver and dance.
“Spread.”
As I shuffle my feet wider, the velvet caress of leather falls trails my spine. “Already wet, I see. That's good, Elizabeth. Let's help that along.” Footsteps, soft in the thick carpet pile, retreat from me.
The slide of an opening drawer.
The Click of it closing again.
The rustle of my hair being pulled aside, then the soft touch of a wrap around my eyes, cool and smooth. It’s not completely dark, merely opaque, and I blink against crimson mist through translucent fabric.
He adjusts it, settling it into place, drawing a knot tighter at the back of my skull. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, Master.” Then I yelp at the sting on my naked ass. It wasn't a hard stroke, but unexpected, and pussy responds, pumping a little honey.
Through my hazy blindness, a buzz…
And fingers behind me, opening me, then penetrating…
Then, a throb as the fingers withdraw and the humming head of a vibe eases against my entrance.
In, then out…
In again, twisting left, then right, settling in, widening my passage as it shivers inside me.
The rhythm is complicated. A vibe on rising and falling power, but combined with a shudder kneading my g-spot. Pussy quakes and I groan.
“That good?”
“Very, Master.”
A short silence and the power of both vibe and shudder escalate. My groan increases to match, cut short by a slap to my left buttock. Another to my right.
“You look beautiful, Elizabeth. And since you went to such trouble this evening, I believe you should have the benefit of your efforts. I would like you to wear some of jewellery I gave you as a wedding gift.” The smooth chill of metal strokes against my cheek…
Oh… God…
The vibe is creating havoc inside me, but behind me, liquid splashes cold and involuntarily, I clench…
“Not like that, Elizabeth. You just relax. You know that.”
… Biting my lip, I breathe deep, forcing tightened muscle to relax against the chill metal kissing my rear entrance…
… squeezing into me…
… stretching my flesh… pressing in…
Then, jogging into place as the ring of muscle closes over the neck of the plug.
“Good girl. Now relax…”
A Snap! The crack of leather in the air. A warning…