Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

“Alex,” she whispered, not having any idea of what she wanted to say. His expression didn't change, yet she could feel his disapproval, and she hastily said, “Sir. May—”

He held up his hand, and she bit back her words. He shook his head. “You do not have permission to speak. In fact…” From his pocket, he pulled out a leather gag.

“Wait.”

“Open.” He put the thick strip of leather into her mouth and tied it behind her head. “If you need to stop, you may either yell or scream. Three times in a row is your safe word, or you can squeeze this.” He tucked one of Butler's squeaky toys into her cuffed hands.

She felt so strange. Not able to talk. Hands behind her back. Legs apart. Breasts aching. Helpless and scared and excited.

His hand cupped her cheek, and he moved up against her, his body warm and strong. “Do you trust me, little sub?” he asked softly.

Did she? Yes . She nodded, and the tightness compressing her lungs eased when his eyes crinkled. “Good girl.”

Her gaze caught on the whips and floggers on the far wall. Oh God, how far did he plan to go?

He turned, following her gaze, and huffed a laugh. “You're not ready for any of those, little cat.”

Thank heavens. Would he really want to use something like that on her? The fear inside her at the thought mingled with a funny excitement. She met his gaze and saw how he watched her with a faint smile.

“Yes, MacKensie, you'll get a chance to see how they feel someday. But this is not the day.” He unclipped her wrists and pulled her over to a square platform about three feet high. “Crawl on,” he said quietly.

Her heart picked up as she did. The top was covered with brown leather, smooth and cool under her hands and knees as she assumed a doggy position.

He bent down to look her in the eyes. “MacKensie, I am going to restrain you now. Do you trust me to keep you safe?” His eyes were steady as his hand stroked her hair.

She wanted to give him what he wanted, wanted to please him. Could she endure this? Be brave for him? She closed her eyes. How far would she go for this man? After a second, she sighed and nodded.

“That's my girl,” he murmured. “Stay on your hands and knees.”

As he buckled on cuffs just below her knees, his fingers kept brushing against her pussy, and the tiny touches kept her constantly aroused. He attached the cuffs to ropes on the table corners and pulled her legs farther apart. Her one attempt to rise was prevented by a stern hand in the middle of her back. Cool air drifted past her inner thighs, touched her wet labia lightly. God, what was she doing with her butt exposed like this?

But somehow the feeling of the cool air on her pussy changed her focus. She couldn't move, couldn't struggle, couldn't even complain or tell him what to do, and slowly her surroundings faded until all she could think about or feel was that open area between her legs.

He squeezed her bottom, and she gasped as his fingers traced down her inner legs to where she had started to throb. The flat of his hand pressed against her pussy, then touched her hip, leaving wetness behind. His way of keeping his promise to only proceed if she was aroused. As if he did anything these days that didn't arouse her.

And being restrained had excited her—really excited her, she realized, as his fingers slicked up and down her folds, as he spread her moisture over her clit. On hands and knees, her butt in the air, her pussy was open and exposed.

Very exposed. She jerked when he slid a finger into her. Oh God.

“Give me your left wrist,” he said, one warm hand splayed on her ass cheek.

More? He wanted to do more restraints? Suppressing a whimper, she put her weight on her other arm and held her left arm back to him.

“Good girl.” He hooked the wrist cuff to her knee cuff on that side, leaving her balancing awkwardly on her knees and only one arm. After moving in front of her, he knelt to where he could meet her eyes. “Anything too tight? Tingling? Numbness?”

She shook her head, losing herself in the blueness of his gaze.

“All right, then.” He gripped her shoulders. “I'm putting you into a position where your head rests just over the edge of the table.” He patted a leather pad there that she hadn't noticed. “Lay your cheek or forehead on this. Now relax and let me lower you down.”

She couldn't smother the whimper this time, but she let her elbow bend and felt him take her weight. He lowered her shoulders down and pulled her hair away from her face as she laid her cheek on the leather pad. As her body tilted, the weights on the nipple clamps shifted, and the unexpected tugging sent streamers of exquisite pain shooting through her.

A second later, he buckled her wrist to the other knee. When he curled her fingers around the squeaky toy, she tried to remember how to breathe, because, frak, this was just plain scary. With her wrists hooked to her knees, she couldn't raise up if she wanted to. Couldn't move her legs. She tried to lower her butt and managed to move it from side to side. The tiny bit of movement made her feel a little less controlled.

He chuckled and patted her bottom, then buckled a cuff on each thigh just below her hips. When something clanked, she twisted her head around, trying to see. He pulled two chains down from a ceiling rafter and attached one to each cuff. When he took up the slack, her butt lifted higher into the air. Most of her weight remained on her knees, but she couldn't lower her bottom at all. He'd taken away her last bit of real movement.

“Is anything too tight, pet?” he asked, once again kneeling in front of her.

Her breath seemed to be coming too fast as she tried to think past the fear. Too tight… Nothing cut off her circulation, but every restraint held her securely. Only her head was free to nod.

He caressed her cheek. “I love seeing you in restraints, tied for my pleasure. Open to anything I want to do.” His cheek creased. “You're very wet, little cat,” he said softly. He kissed her lips, the softness belying the heat in his eyes. When he pulled back, he ran a finger over her lower lips. “Remember, your safe word is three hoots or pressing the squeaky toy.”

She nodded. He wasn't lying; she could feel the wetness of her pussy. Nonetheless, she gripped the toy a little more and heard him chuckle.

“I'm pleased you trust me this far,” he said. “Now we'll go a step further.” He placed a thick, large, blindfold over her eyes, tying it securely behind her head. The last thing she saw was the faint smile on his lips.

Blackness. She almost hooted right then, but he hadn't moved. His hand stayed on the knot behind her head, his fingers laced firmly through her hair. His other hand rubbed her naked back in long strokes. “I'm here, little cat. I want you to trust me. Relax into the ties and the darkness. All you can do now is hear and feel. And since your body is mine to play with, I will decide what you hear and what you feel.” His voice had deepened, taken on that Dom authority.

Inside her, something loosened. She couldn't do anything. Maybe she knew she shouldn't do this, that perhaps it wasn't right, wasn't wise, but there was absolutely nothing she could do. He held all the reins.

“That's the way,” he said softly and squeezed her shoulder. She heard him rise, and the subtle warmth of his body and breath disappeared, leaving nothing behind. No sound. No touch. Had he gone?

Her body tensed, and at the same time, her heart rate slowed. Couldn't do anything. No control. The straps and cuffs held her in place, confined her, and yet freed her into a relaxation she hadn't felt before. Almost like when he held her so tightly she couldn't move.

Time passed. A minute? More? Then a touch on her cheek. His warm breath touched her ear as he said, “You're doing well, sweetheart. Very well.”