Bertrice Small - Captivated

"You didn't tell methis time."

"These are just today's lessons, little fawn." He grasped her one hand, tied it to the post with black satin, and then the other, and then stepped back to look at her.

"That's better. With your arms over your shoulders, your breasts are lifted toward me, begging for attention. But not tonight, little fawn. I just want to look at those incredible nipples, and maybe next time you will offer them to me of your own volition."

"I will never offer you anything," she spat, pulling her arms against the restraints. "You're crazy." But he wasn't crazy; he was her husband, for God's sake, her master, and his sole drive was to completely dominate her before he spent himself in her.

He stood right beside her head and she saw that his erection was even harder and more elongated than it had been before.

"Tomorrow, my naked wife, tomorrow we will test you to see what lessons you've learned."

"I know what you want," she whispered.

"You couldn't possibly, little fawn. Not yet."

"Take me."

"No!" he growled.

"You want what's between my legs."

"Oh, little fawn, you do have so much to learn. Here is a lesson: I want what I want to be mine. And tomorrow, I will see about making sure everyone knows you're mine."

"If you take me"

"You still won't be mine, my naked wife who still craves another man's sex. So you seeI have many things still to teach you. And what my body wants, what my penis wantsthat doesn't matter. All that matters is subjugating you."

She felt a tremor go through her body. Her nipples hardened. She felt a spurt of wetness between her legs as she understood. This was all about Gerard. Dear darling Gerard who never would have used her so cruelly.

He really knew about Gerard. She felt her bones go weak. How long had he known? It didn't matter; nothing mattered. All that mattered was that she couldn't afford one lovely thought about Gerard from now on, not one, or Court would know it.

"Court"

"Your nipples fascinate me, Drue. And you see how lifting your breasts makes them all the more enticing to a man. I've never seen such pointed nipples on a woman. They beg to be fondled and sucked."

"Do it," she breathed, watching the effect those two words had on his flexing erection. It spurted harder, longer.

He controlled himself with an effort. "But that's not what you want, my naked fawn. Not who you want. Not yet."

The threat… it was a threatit was why he had chosen to treat her this way. Why why why…

Damn him, damn him, damn him She pulled, she raged, she writhed, she moaned…

He moved away because he felt his iron control slipping. He didn't need to touch her. He didn't need to fuck her. He just needed to get out of that room before she understood the power that she wielded.

"Not yet." His voice echoed as he eased out into the hallway, closing the door behind him as an exclamation point to his surrender. "Not yet," he groaned, gasping himself as he gave in to his explosive need and shot his boiling lust down his rock-hard leg.

Not yet … as he sank, spent, to the floor.

Sometime during the night, a servant untied her; she wasn't aware of the moment, just of the freedom from constriction, and the ability finally to turn and roll onto her stomach.

Finally. Even though it felt as if the satin bonds were still wound around her wrists. In her dreams, Gerard didn't notice them. In her dreams, he held her, coddled her, protected her…

Sometime in the morning, she became aware of a presence in the room. Not in the bed beside her, but at the foot of the bed, watching her, ever watching her.

Not Gerard…

She moved her body languidly, knowing he was watching, waiting, wondering of whom she was thinking as she stretched.

"Spread your legs."

She rolled onto her back and extended her long sleek legs outward to show him that this lesson was nothing to her, nothing to learn, nothing to do. But when, during the night of dreamy passion with the evascent Gerard, she had decided this course, she didn't know.

Whatever, it suddenly was easy. So easy.

"Sit up."

Slowly she raised herself upward, sliding down to the foot of the bed so that she could still splay her legs while she cupped her breasts and lifted them toward him, all the while watching the thickening length between his legs.

"Very good, little fawn. It is time for me to claim you as my own naked wife."

Her breath caught. Now, now, he would take her and the thing would be done and he'd leave her to her own devices.

He rose up and came toward her, his spurting erection directly in her line of vision, his extended hand holding what looked like a collar with two very long straps appended from it.

"What is this?"

"This is the first thing you will be permitted to wear, my fawn. Your legs go through the straps so that they are positioned just inside your thighs. You are to wear the collar and thongs at all times whether you are dressed or naked as reminder to you who owns you and who will possess you in good time. Put it on."

She shot him a defiant look and then slowly slipped her legs through the straps, and then stood up, pulling them tightly against her inner thighs, which made her mound more prominent.

"Like that." He could barely say the words; the sight of those leather straps defining her feminine bush and pushing out her high, pointed breasts sent a lightning bolt of desire to his groin. "Put the collar around your neck."

It was a wide, supple leather collar decorated with golden studs and a hook closure. She locked it, and he gestured for her to move away from him so that he could examine her minutely.

It was perfect, the thin leather straps taut against her pale skin, conspicuously outlining her sex and her breasts, and culminating in the symbol of his owning her: the thrall collar.

"Evie!"

Evie slipped into the room.

"Lock it."

Evie came up behind her, and a moment later, Drue heard the almost noiseless click of a lock; she heard him groan, she saw his body convulse before he mastered his sex, and she reached back and touched a tiny padlock, the key to which Evie gave him before she exited the room.

The vision of her collared and strapped to his specification aroused him unbearably: she could see that he was not fully in command of his wayward penis. It wanted her. It flexed and stretched and elongated and thickened almost as if it were enticing her as she sashayed around him, letting him view her from every angle.

He particularly liked the way the straps crossed her buttocks and disappeared invitingly into her crease, and then reappeared to tightly confine her femininity.

His penis liked it, too; he couldn't clamp down hard enough on his erection to contain the spurt of juice that stained the material of his trousers.

"On the collar is the seal of the Summervilles, wife, so that everyone will know that you are my possession."

"Take me then; everyone thinks you have already."

"Indeed. And only you and I know that I am exerting heroic control in not plowing you until you have been taught every lesson."

"I've learned your lessons," she protested. "I wear your thrall collar. I'm ready for your possession."

"No. I'm bursting to possess you, but you are not nearly ready for me. Come." He rose up from the chair, his erection bone hard in front of him. "We go downstairs for breakfast today."

"I"

"Naked. Just as you are."

"The servants" she murmured faintly.

"Naked," he said inflexibly, holding open the door.

"If anyone sees me" she protested.

"He'll just have to control his lust for you."

"How can he, if you can't?" she retorted.