In His Cuffs(5)

Like a table in a doctor's office, it had a small shelf that could be  slid back, leaving her bottom hanging suspended. How much pressure she'd  be under would depend entirely on how he secured her. There were  attachments that could be extended for her heels. She had no idea how he  intended to use the piece of furniture, but the numerous possibilities  intrigued her as much as they made her anxious.

He closed the door behind them.

She knew the walls had been soundproofed. It could be disconcerting to  others to overhear screaming, and when she was the one screaming, she  liked having some privacy. Since the Den also served as a studio for  exclusive video shoots, keeping down outside noise was important.  Despite the extensive efforts, the walls still seemed to softly vibrate  from Evan C's band.

David detached her leash. "Please kneel while I set up the room." He pointed to a spot on the floor.

The instruction at least was expected, something familiar in the oddness of sceneing with him.

He stood still while she lowered herself in position.

Maggie rarely played with the same man twice. There was something about  the thrill of the unknown with a new Dom. The fact she knew David, but  in a different context, enhanced her excitement and apprehension.

Since he hadn't instructed otherwise, she watched him hang the leash  from a hook in the wall before placing his bag on the countertop. He  unzipped it and pulled out several condoms-he hadn't been joking when  he'd said he wanted to fuck her.

He laid out various sized cuffs, likely some for her wrists and others  for her ankles. He pulled out a tawse, a paddle and three different  floggers, each crafted from different coloured leather. The strands  varied in thickness. Her mouth watered as she wondered which he'd select  and if she'd ever get to try them all.                       
       
           



       

She knew him to be organised, and he never went home for the evening  without putting away each pen, pencil and piece of paper. He arranged  every item on the counter, with nothing touching. She hoped that  precision extended to the way he would deal with her.

There were other items she couldn't see without craning her neck, and that would be bad form.

She did see him take out a bottle of water before he placed his bag on the floor and turned back to her.

Those dratted nerves returned, double time.

Without speaking, he picked up a chair and moved it close to where she knelt.

After sitting, he finally shattered the quiet by telling her, "Please  stand and remove all your clothes." He offered his hand to help her up.

His grip was strong, firm, reassuring. Their bodies were close, and the setting pulsed with intimacy.

He released her, and she drew her shirt over her head.

"Purple?" he asked. "Another surprise. I'm betting the panties match the bra."

"Why would you guess that, Mr Tomlinson?"

"The bra isn't as risqué as I expected. Therefore I figured you bought a matched set."

He was right.

She dropped the shirt to the floor before unzipping the skirt and  wriggling out of it. Maggie felt as if she were doing a striptease for  him.

"Very nice," he said as he swept his gaze down her body, taking in her thong, stockings and garter belt.

Now she was doubly glad she'd made the purchases.

She stepped away from the skirt.

"Do you dress this way at work?"

"You'll never know, Mr Tomlinson."

The air seemed to hum with a sudden electrical current, like she'd felt  in lightning storms on high mountain peaks. She hadn't meant it to sound  like a challenge, but it had come out that way.

"Please continue," he said into the seething tension.

The first few minutes with a new Dom always made her uneasy, until she  slid into the place where nothing interfered with her thought process,  where doubts buckled beneath the heartbeat of instinct.

Aware of his scrutiny, she reached behind her and unhooked the bra clasp  before drawing the straps down her arms. Still looking at him, she  dropped the lacy lingerie and pulled her shoulders back.

He tapped his forefingers together. "You have gorgeous breasts," he said. "How sensitive are your nipples?"

"Not very," she replied. Beneath his scrutiny and the room's overhead  fan, they began to bead. "When I masturbate, I need a lot of  stimulation, so I put clamps on them."

"And would you like me to put a pair on you this evening?"

"If it pleases you, Sir. I mean, yes, please, Mr Tomlinson."

"I understand why you're the company's lead salesperson," he said with a  slight nod of respect. "You're highly adaptable. This side of you that  wants to please must be helpful in business development. It seems  sincere."

"Thank you for saying so."

"You could try it when you enter my office."

"And you could release me from that employment contract."

"Without your talents, World Wide Now stands to lose a significant  amount of sales revenue. If you opened a competing business or moved to  one of our competitors, it could be up to forty per cent. So the answer  is no."

The argument was a familiar one. If she were honest, she'd admit he was  right. Their customers liked her. Her mother was the firm's creative  talent, though. She had an eye for web branding, from actual design to  implementation. Together they made a hell of a team, and customers were  loyal to her mother, often returning for additional campaigns.

David stood and crossed to the counter. "Tweezers or clovers?"

"Clovers. That way you can tug on them and they'll stay in place," she said. "Please."

He selected a pair and tested the pressure on his little finger before discarding them in favour of a second set.

"Are those harder or lighter than the previous ones?" she asked.

"Harder."

Her pussy moistened. She waited with infinite patience for him to return.

"Offer your breasts to me."

For a moment, she looked at the clamps. A chain ran between them, and  they hung from his index finger. Then she met his gaze, as if he'd urged  her to look at him.

At work, he insisted on having his way. In this private room with just  the two of them, her naked and vulnerable, him bare-chested and in  charge, she saw him in a new way. There was a quiet, observant intensity  in his blue eyes. He was listening to and respecting her every wish,  changing his style to suit her while still asserting his will. That  would make him an even better Dom. And she was looking forward to it.                       
       
           



       

Obediently she cupped her breasts, drawing them up and together. "Please, Mr Tomlinson, will you put the clamps on me?"

"It will be my pleasure."

The first touch of her boss's fingers on her skin sent shockwaves through her.

Before tonight, she would have said she'd never allow him to touch her. Now she was all but begging him to.

He played with her nipples, his touch extra light. She moaned, wanting more.

"I'll set the pace," he told her.

"Yes, Mr Tomlinson." Unable to help herself, she swayed towards him.

"So needy."

"Yes," she whispered.

He pinched her nipples then released the tips, only to grasp them again  and roll the swollen peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you."

"Lovely manners you have, little one."

With her curves, she wasn't accustomed to being called little. Near him,  she did feel small. He could tuck her under his chin and hold her  close … not that she wanted him to, she told herself.

Most men gave her nipples a few perfunctory tugs, but he turned this torment into an art form.

He responded to her unspoken demand by increasing the pressure, making her nipples fully erect.

"Now they're ready. Keep holding your breasts," he instructed.

He let her go only long enough to take hold of her right nipple, extend it and affix the rubber tip.

"Ah!" She sucked in a breath.

"More than you thought?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Can you bear it?"

The shock of it had already begun to fade as he took hold of her left  nipple and stroked it, distracting her. "I'm fine, Mr Tomlinson," she  said finally.

"You have expressive features. I'll have to watch you more carefully when we're together outside of here."

"I'm better at hiding my thoughts when I'm not aroused sexually," she  told him. Before she was mentally prepared, he attached the second  clamp, compressing her nipple.

She closed her eyes.

"At some point, I may add weights to them," he told her when she had centred herself and looked at him again.

"If it pleases you," she said.

"I'll give you a few more moments to adjust before I amuse myself with  your tits." He took his seat again. "When you're ready, remove the rest  of your clothes."