Natural Law(6)
Why someone like him was nervous about someone like her, she didn’t know, but she knew D/s went deep into the psyche of each individual, with often unpredictable reactions.
She wouldn’t let herself fill with doubt or fear of not doing the right thing, or let Jonathan’s mockery come through and unbalance her. Mackenzie might just be being kind with his attentiveness, but even so, she was going to make him wish for another night, and then another.
Like any art form, if she focused on performance, end results or audience reaction, she’d lose the edge, pull herself out of the spiritual undercurrents driving the sensual process. Nature would take them to the right destination, though she enjoyed having the freedom to play with the right amounts of water, sustenance and light to make Nature’s beauty thrust its way eagerly out of the ground.
He removed the shirt from his shoulders and she drew in a breath. Speaking of Nature’s beauty. He was as beautiful as she expected. A furred and powerful chest, with that same silver, white and black pelt he had thick on his skull. Sleek muscle, curves and angles that meshed in perfect imperfection. A couple of scars. The hair narrowed down to its delightful indicator point on his flat belly and disappeared into his black jeans, which she noted had a tighter fit now, due to his erection straining the denim. She made an effort to keep her face impassive, not lick her lips and dance for joy as she wanted to do.
Choosing a soft-bristled grooming brush from the wall, she moved toward him at last. One step, two steps. Her booted heels were loud in the silence between them. He kept his eyes down as she approached, circled behind him and laid a palm on his bare back between his shoulder blades.
“Someone trained you well,” she said, noticing his hands stayed loose, undefensive at his sides. His skin was smooth and hot beneath her touch, but she resisted the urge to tighten her grip. Whether he was advanced level or not, he was a beginner with her as his Mistress, and she knew the importance of establishing the ground rules.
Plus, she wanted to take it slow, savor these very first touches the way a first kiss was supposed to be savored. One never knew if that first kiss might be the first kiss with a soulmate, such that everything done with him after that point would be the ultimate choice of a lifetime.
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Natural Law
Violet lifted the brush, slid it over his skin, watched the bristles bend and mold over the muscles in his shoulders, his shoulder blades, his back. The bristles were soft, but still worthy of being called a brush, so they made faint trails in his skin, stimulating it.
“So what’s your safe word, Mackenzie?” she asked, passing her hand down the same trail, using her nails a bit.
“I don’t use one. If I can’t take it, I don’t deserve you.” Violet stopped. “That’s a pretty high risk to take, Mac, with someone you don’t know.” It genuinely concerned her, for he obviously came to these clubs on his own, and he was not a regular at The Zone.
“Nevertheless.” He kept his gaze on the floor. “I serve my Mistress’s pleasure, whatever that pleasure might be. I don’t have one, and I don’t want one.”
“I’ll set the rules, Mackenzie. What if I make you watch me while another man fucks me?”
He stiffened and she smiled, rubbing her brush down the other shoulder. His skin was getting damp. “That would bother you, then?”
“Only because I know I could do anything he did for you better.” Violet pressed her lips together against another smile, even as she felt her knees quake. She’d no doubt he could. His voice alone, its shifts from sensual deference to arrogant impudence, was making her wet.
“Arrogant slave.” She laid down the brush, chose another, this one with stiffer bristles. “I’ll bet those jeans are getting very uncomfortable.”
“Shall I take them off?”
“Not yet. I like to see your cock straining against them for me. I’m not ready to let you be comfortable.”
She loved the feel of his skin beneath her palms, his heated stillness. When she caressed his nape with her long nails, he bent his head forward, making it easier for her to stroke him there.
A breath drew in his muscles, his buttocks tightening in a very appealing manner as she returned to her brushing, increasing the pressure of her strokes with the stiffer brush, raking his skin, bringing the blood to the surface to sensitize him further. She alternated across, varied from light to hard, so his skin would not get numb to the stimulation. His breathing grew labored. Though she wanted to do so, she didn’t have to look to know his arousal was increasing.
“You seem to be getting a bit fractious,” she murmured. “Follow me.” Putting down the brush on a ledge of the stall partition, she lifted two tethers of soft nylon from where they draped over the doors. Turning so she could see him come toward her, she suppressed a shudder of reaction at the sight of that muscled body, lightly perspiring with nerves and heat, the silver eyes, intent with desire. The awkwardness of his gait drew her attention down to his cock, now clearly outlined against the front panel of his jeans.
23
Joey W. Hill
“If you could do anything you wanted to do right now, Mackenzie, what would it be?”
The path of his eyes coursed down the front of the velvet dress, but he took another step closer, so close she felt his hand at his side brush her hip. Felt his fingertips take the liberty of caressing the lace top of her thigh high, seeking to trace the bare skin just above it, below her dress’s short hem.
“I’d kneel at your feet and eat your pussy until you came in my mouth, your hands clutched in my hair, nails digging into my skin. I’d listen to you scream my name.
Mistress.”
His fingers inched higher, his eyes gauging the rise in her pulse rate, which she felt beating against her throat as clearly as she knew he could see it.
“You need to learn some manners.” She caught his wrist in a firm grip.
The tether was similar to the nylon ropes found in a horse barn, only this one had a cuff at the end of it. She fitted it around his wrist. “Turn outward so your back is facing the back of the stall, and put both arms behind you, crossing your forearms.” His fingers flexed as she laced the cuffs on his wrists securely, making sure he had blood flow, but tight enough he could feel the restraint, send the message to his mind that it was the first step toward the total domination she intended to exercise over him tonight. As she did the lacing and checked the pressure, her knuckles were brushing the ass hugged by the denim. It was too tempting. She allowed herself to free one hand, close it over the curve of one buttock, grip it hard, enjoy the feel of it flexing tensely under her touch. The fingers of his cuffed hand reached, found her other hand wrapped in the loose end of the tether, and he caressed her palm, seeking a grip.
She drew out of his reach, wrapped the slack of the ropes around her fingers and tugged him further into the stall. He turned his head, meeting her gaze as she moved him, her palm sliding around to press against his stomach just above his waistband to guide him backwards. There was no escaping the mental comparison of leading a stallion within proximity of a mare, his eyes dangerous and intent on hers.
Steady, girl. He’s big and strong, and he knows what he’s doing, but you can handle him.
You know what he needs, even before he does. That’s what a good Mistress did. Break him down to the core, so he was open to her, both finding ultimate completion in a total connection of the mind with the body.
Tyler’s words, but her pounding heart had a different name for it, which went beyond words to pure feeling.
For a Mistress like her, it wasn’t about getting off. She knew true Doms were artists who used a variety of methods to break subs down to the bone and drive them to a level of fulfillment they never could have experienced with their emotional and physical shields in place. For such a Master or Mistress, the stimulation came from that successful breakdown of a sub, so that he was completely linked with the Dom’s desires. At its heart, that was what she hungered for, getting the sub she wanted to 24
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willingly surrender all to her, more than he even knew he had to offer. She wanted to tame the stallion that could not be tamed.
“I didn’t give you permission to meet my gaze,” she said. “Face forward and eyes down.”
Mackenzie held her eyes one more moment than was appropriate, then shifted his attention to the floor. His bare broad back faced her, the smooth taper to the firm waist just screaming for her touch.
She threaded the loose ends of the tethers through a ring above her head on the stall wall and drew the ropes tight, drawing his shoulders back and up so that she crossed his arms as close to the elbows as she could, a just short-of-uncomfortable posture that got his attention. It bent his body slightly forward, which she could tell he didn’t like, for it put him off balance. He was going to be a lot more off balance when she was done.
It was an effective method of restraint, because with his arms crossed nearer to the elbows than the wrists and his arms pulled up at the uncomfortable angle to his shoulders, he could not move back. The lack of slack kept him from moving forward.
“I want you uncomfortable, but not in pain,” she said, testing the ropes, drifting her hand across his back. “You’ll tell me if you begin to hurt. Answer me.”