Hector’s voice came from somewhere nearby, humor lacing his rumbly tones as he said, “This medical exam table you’ve had built is fantastic, Joseph. So versatile.”
Oh no!
Another voice she didn’t recognize said, “It gives the appearance of a normal exam table, and with just a twist of the crank…ah, sweet deviance. And no way for a nervous subbie to get loose.”
Bunny bit her lip for a second. She was on edge and nervous, no doubt. But Joseph was in control. He’d told her she could be herself.
Well then.
She listened to Joseph’s voice as he took the time to demonstrate all the features of the table she’d looked on with trepidation earlier in the evening, squealing when he tickled the curls on her pussy. Judging by his voice, he was standing to her left, by her hip.
Time to be myself, I guess.
The blindfold actually helped her to focus as she wiggled around testing the restraints. All of them were secure enough for the average person. She was far from average.
“Sir, did I ever tell you about what my mama used to call me?”
He leaned down, and she moaned when she felt his hot breath on her tightly squeezed nipples, and she arched her back to lift one to his lips. “And what did your mama call you, little rabbit?”
She heard the amusement in his voice and smiled, pleased he seemed to be enjoying the evening, at her expense, but that was okay. She had a plan. She moaned again as his hot tongue stroked her nipple, and then he ran his teeth across it. He had his head turned toward her abdomen.
Perfect. She heard a chuckle from someone, maybe Samson, as she tugged and then slowly twisted her left arm in the restraint.
“Mama called me Houdini,” she said as she reached down and caressed his testicles and his pleasantly firm erection with her left hand. “You didn’t know I was double-jointed, did you?”
Joseph grew harder in her hand as his warm breath skimmed over her jaw and he nibbled at her chin. “I do now. Well done, sneaky sub.” He reached down and lifted her hand away, and several chuckles sounded around the room when she stuck her lip out and pouted while he cuffed her again.
Hector said, “Your sub may have fiery hair to match her vivacity, but she’s definitely a blonde. You’ve always preferred your subs waxed smooth, Joseph. I thought it was a club standard.”
Joseph took his time as he trailed a fingertip from her torso downward to her feet and then surprisingly moved to stand between her thighs, skimming that fingertip back up from her inner ankle to her inner thigh until he was once again tickling the curls between her legs.
“It’s a club standard, one my subs have always respected. But subs must master the art of negotiation, and my little bunny happens to be a master negotiator. I believe submission is sweetest when the sub makes up her mind to obey from a desire to please her Dom, and not from an obligation.”
“Uh, are you gonna keep talking about me as if I’m not in the room? I have the pussy. I make the rules. Hello?”
Silence. And more silence—broken only by her sudden increase in breathing as she recalled exactly who was tied down…and Joseph chuckled. An ominous sound.
Oh shit.
What ensued was a mean, bossy, sadistic, totally asshat-title-worthy Dom demonstrating that, in fact, the pussy did belong to him while she demonstrated her ability to curse like a sailor until Samson whispered in her ear that he’d be happy to gag her, and she shut the hell up.
Joseph had spent what felt like hours pushing her to the edge of orgasm, only to deny her, letting her come back down over and over again. He used his fingers to tease her, thrusting in and out of her embarrassingly wet pussy while licking until every trace of the honey she’d used to stick the little pink bow to the blonde curls on her mound was gone. He’d employed a vibrator some dickhead had been nice enough to get for him, and he was teasing her clit while flicking her still-clamped nipples.
“You know, fiammetta, I think it’s nearly time these came off, don’t you?”
She whimpered and fought the now sufficiently tight restraints and growled. “I think it’s time a lot of things got off.”
“Uh-uh, she’s not ready yet,” Hector said, the helpful motherfucker.
Joseph leaned down by her ear. “Fiammetta, I don’t think your ass could handle all the licks you’ve earned with your sailor mouth tonight, but calling the lead Dom in the room a motherfucker…not a good idea.” He kept teasing her clit as he talked to her, and she could hardly think.
“Sorry, Sir. Sorry, Hector, Sir. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m kinda delirious right now. You’re not a motherfucker. You’re a fabulous, dipped-in-awesome-sauce non-motherfucker. Please, Sir!” Her heart pounded with a confusing mixture of anticipation, arousal, need, and anger. And in the mix was a strong desire to just let go. To cede control.