“Do you recall, Ariel, that I instructed you not to look at me while we assume these roles?”
Oops, I forgot. I quickly averted my eyes but I heard a bitter chuckle. “Too little, too late, I’m afraid. You’ve already seen too much.”
Nervously I glanced back, just in time to see his hands reach toward my face and slide a blindfold over my eyes. As soon as I lost my sight, everything else became instantly more intense: the music playing, the sounds of him moving and breathing, and even the cinnamony scent of the room. In that moment I knew that when he began to touch me, that sense would be magnified too. My innards instantly contracted sharply in anticipation.
I swear I almost came the moment his warm hands touched my legs. He pulled my knees apart so that I was in a most unladylike position. Almost simultaneously the music became louder, with the booming bass resonating through my body, pumping through and with my heart.
His hands skimmed over my skin lightly, giving me goosebumps, and then landed on my breasts. I felt his fingers circling my nips and in response they began to tingle and burn. What the hell? He must have put something on them. The sensation grew more intense—almost uncomfortable. Next, his hands moved lower and other things began to tingle and burn. I squirmed, trying to evade the sensation but I couldn’t move much: not only was the strap pinning me down but he was now holding both my knees and my limbs were chained together. With no warning, he thrust himself fully into me, while at the same time sliding a hand down to pinch my backside: pain and pleasure merged, hot and instant, and I climaxed immediately. I heard his deep-throated laughter then but he was just beginning the ride. By the time he was through with me, I couldn’t easily close my legs nor could I walk very gracefully.
Good times.
Afterward, as we lay in his understated but still sumptuously comfortable bedroom, I asked him about his past.
“Have you ever had a normal relationship?”
He was back to his charming self and kissed the tip of my nose. “This kind of relationship is normal to me.”
“You know what I mean.”
He reared his head back in irritation. “Ella, I’m nearing thirty years old. Of course I’ve had relationships. It’s just that I prefer this type of one. Let’s move on.” He looked at me from down his nose and I quickly averted my eyes. His hand reached over and grasped my chin, turning it toward him. “I’m uncomfortable speaking of other women to you, Ariel, but if you must know, I had a bad experience when I was young. I prefer relationships with some emotional distance, but I’m not willing to give up the physical intimacy. Does that answer your question?”
I nodded, now more addled than ever. What kind of bad experience did he have?
“For what it’s worth, I will admit to one little concession: you are special. I’ve never had to pursue a woman as I’ve pursued you, but I think you’re very much worth it.” He rubbed the end of my nose with his and kissed me again.
Those few sweet words of his proved stowaways on my eventual flight to the UK, staying with me for weeks afterward as I tried to muddle through the motivations and feelings of this most frustrating man.
On the second visit to his dungeon, we had more fun. At least he thought it was fun. That time, he used toys: a vibrator he called a butterfly—I was rather fond of that one and I wouldn’t mind getting one for my very own—a type of fluffy feather, a vibrating thing that looked like a massager, and tiny metal balls that are strung together and are inserted into various orifices and pulled out slowly during climax. He also used a flogger on me. Over our last two encounters, he gifted me with multiple orgasms. This time he denied me even one.
I was so frustrated, I was whimpering. Ian just watched me closely, occasionally offering me a wicked grin. I couldn’t believe he was being so mean. Sexual frustration is cruel and it had been going on for what seemed like hours. I was about to really lose it when he finally gave in.
My wrists were restrained to a chain that dangled from the headboard on the dungeon bed. He flipped me over onto my stomach so suddenly that I screamed out loud but the loss of balance caused my face to smush (that’s smash and mush) into the pillow, muffling it. He didn’t stop there: he slid both of my knees up the bed until my backside was up in the air and then he slapped me so hard, once, twice, and then a third time, pinching my nip before slamming himself into me. I came so hard and so instantly (and so amazingly) that I managed to scrounge up enough humanity to forgive him the previous torment. But he kept pounding into me, right through my orgasm, and, exhausted, I realized he wanted me to come again.