In His Cuffs(27)

The area was finished, and it was large. He'd had the pool table removed  and had taken out several walls for his exercise space. While he'd been  at it, he'd asked Master Marcus to design some unobtrusive pieces that  no one would consider kinky. Now that she was here, David was glad he'd  had the foresight to do that. He looked forward to their mutual  introduction to Master Marcus' creation.

Earlier in the day, David had moved aside his workout machines and weight bench, leaving the area vacant for their use.

"I don't get it," she said when he came downstairs. "It's a nice space, but … "

"It doesn't look like a dungeon?"

"Not at all."

"Pull that tapestry off the wall."

She did. "Ah. Hmm." She took a step back and studied the pieces of wood  attached to the wall. "Interesting." She placed the tapestry on the  floor and rolled it up. "Sorry. I still don't get it."

"It serves the same purpose as a St Andrew's cross."

Maggie looked again, closer. "Oh! Clever."

He thought so, too. The structure was about six feet in width and  height. Holes were drilled at strategic intervals for placement of  hooks, meaning a sub could be attached wherever the Dom desired. Even  the individual slats could be removed or not, as David saw fit. Since it  didn't have an official name, he called it the Cavendish, in honour of  its designer.

"Devious," she added. "No one would ever know it's down here."

He opened the top of a bench-another of Marcus' designs. The furniture  had been installed beneath a window. Guests who opened it would find a  blanket and a remote control for the television and sound system. The  upper tray was removable, and his stash of toys was stored beneath.

"Your personality is like this room, isn't it?" she observed. "You'd never expect what's beneath the exterior."

"I'm the same on the inside and the outside."

"Uh-huh. Sorry, Mr Tomlinson. Not buying it. You are much deeper, more concerned about things and people-me-than you let on."

"You have it wrong, Maggie. I assure you."

"Whatever you say, Sir."

He glanced at her.

"I'm agreeing with you, Mr Tomlinson." She shrugged. "As always."

"You're incorrigible, Maggie."

She flashed him a cheeky grin.

"Would you prefer I flog your back or front?" He nodded, selecting a  flogger with broad straps so he could give her a long, sound beating.

Her smile faded, and she took in a sharp breath, not from fear, he sensed, but from unfurling anticipation.

She kept an eye on him as he shook it out. "Whatever Sir prefers," she said.

This time, sincerity was etched in her words.

He laid the implement aside and took out hooks, clamps, ties, restraints, lube and even a medium-sized butt plug.

"I guess you weren't kidding that we wouldn't be watching television," she said.

"Not a chance."

"All that for tonight?"

"Do you have something better to do?"

"Ah. No, Mr Tomlinson."

"Come here, please." He put cuffs on her wrists. They weren't his  preferred metal ones, but the fabric ones would work better for his  purposes. Not that it really mattered. He just liked having her in them.  He knelt to secure a second pair to her ankles. "You'll be helpless in  less than five minutes."

"I'm already tied up inside," she said, her voice so soft he hardly heard it.

So was he. He hadn't expected that. He didn't know how to respond.  Before he completely lost the ability to think, he picked up four hooks.  "Stand with your back against the structure."

In front of him, she looked so small, but he knew how tough she was.  She'd taken everything he'd given, and she'd done it with impressive  stoicism. "Please raise your arms." He stepped back to look at her  relative to the Cavendish then repositioned her. "Now spread your legs.  Keep your feet flat on the floor, as I don't want to strain any of your  muscles." He repeated the procedure and double-checked each distance  before inserting the hooks into pre-drilled holes. "You may step away."

She frowned.

"There are a few things I want to do to you before I start the  flogging," he explained. "That was mechanical, and I want you in a  different mental state before my leather meets your skin. Let's start  with some clamps." He handed her a pair. "Put them on."

"Me? You want me to do it to myself? That seems like you're asking me to tie my own noose."                       
       
           



       

"You play with this type all the time. Quit stalling."

Without further complaint, she tugged on her left nipple, pinching it, squeezing it.

"I could watch you do that all day."

She continued long after the nipple had hardened.

"You're doing that to aggravate me," he said.

"Not at all. I'm trying to please you, Mr Tomlinson."

"Don't forget who will be holding the flogger."

She looked up at him through her long lashes, but she didn't stop toying with her nipple.

"Put the clamp on it," he snapped, the words almost sounding like a growl.

Rather than being intimidated, she laughed. She squeezed her aureole  between her thumb and forefinger of her left hand, making the nipple  protrude. He knew she was very much aware of his interest, and she took  her sweet time opening the pincer and guiding it towards her nipple.

She placed the clamp and sucked in a shocked breath.

"More than you expected?" he asked.

"Hell and back. Yes, Sir."

"Is it more than you can bear?"

"If it pleases you, Sir, I can take it."

In his pants, his cock felt hot and heavy. Once she stepped away from  her inhibitions, her sexual power quadrupled. She could ask for anything  and he'd crawl through shards of metal to get it for her.

"Shall I do the other one now, Mr Tomlinson?"

An internal debated raged inside him. Touching her might be lethal.  Watching her play with herself would lead him to fuck her before they'd  even started. "I'll do it."

The little vixen pouted. Everything she did made his desire rise to flash point.

He followed her lead, plumping her breast, abrading her nipple with his  callused fingertip. She moaned and allowed her head to fall backwards.  Her hair streamed down her back in waves of untamed abandon.

David pinched her nipple and pulled it away from her body before releasing the clamp to bite it.

She fisted her hands and he saw her fingernails dig into her palms. He  considered removing the clovers, but he remained silent and waited for  her to use her safe word.

By slow measures, she uncurled her fingers and looked at him. "Thank you, Sir."

This woman was tough, all right. "They won't seem as bad in a while."  Until he yanked on them. By then, he hoped she was so far gone in her  delirium that she would be able to ignore the pain in favour of its  crashing arousal.

With his foot, he slid an exercise mat towards her. "Kneel and present your ass for my plug."

"Of course, Mr Tomlinson," she whispered.

Her movements were beautiful as she stepped onto the mat and knelt.  After a glance at him, she lowered herself the rest of the way to the  floor, her ass high in the air. He noticed she didn't flatten her  breasts. He'd see to that in a minute. "Reach back and spread your ass  cheeks for me, Maggie." That forced her to adjust her position a bit,  and she yelped.

He kept her waiting while he lubed the piece. He drizzled the excess  liquid into the crack between her ass cheeks before teasing her tightest  entrance with the blunt end of the plug. "I love doing this to you," he  said. "Stretching you. That's it, bear down."

She relaxed her muscles and he inserted the piece a bit more before pulling it out.

"I've never had a glass plug before."

"What do you think?"

"It doesn't give," she said around a grunt as he proceeded to push it back in.

"Not like silicone," he agreed. "Neither does stainless, but this is  bigger than the one I used on you at the Den since I intend to fuck you  up your ass later."

She shuddered and released her grip on her butt cheeks.

"Compose yourself at once," he snapped.

"Aww. God! Sorry, Mr Tomlinson."

"Better," he said when she was back in position. Then showing no mercy,  deciding to get it over with, he shoved it the rest of the way in with a  gentle but firm glide.

She panted and yelped.

"It's in. Feel free to stop the dramatics." Avoiding her hands, he gave her right buttock a sharp smack to reinforce his words.

He stood and walked around her, admiring the way she looked with her ass  in the air, a plug protruding from her anus. Her body was all feminine  curves and beauty. "When you're ready, please take your place at the  wall."

Her motions were exaggeratedly slow as she stood. The plug and the  clamps hampered her movements. That her interest in BDSM matched his was  the stuff of fantasies. After Sandy, he'd given up the hope of finding  someone who would complement him in bed as well as out of it.