Page 11

Nathan hooked his index fingers through the rings sewn into the thick leather cuffs, pulling her with him as he backed up.

They stopped under the chandelier. She held her wrists out at waist height as he threaded one end of the rope through both cuffs and pulled, drawing her wrists up.

“This is quick release,” he said as he started to tie the rope to itself in one of those complicated knots all Doms and Masters seemed to love. “If you need a break, just say so.”

Tara looked up at her bound hands which were stretched above her head, but not pulled so tight that it forced her upper arms against her ears, or would stress her shoulders or wrists. “I’ll let you know if I plan to dramatically collapse in my bonds. I don’t want to pull that thing down on my head.”

Nathan laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Dramatically collapse in your bonds? I kind of want to make that happen, but while this fixture is secure, I don’t know if it’s suspension-play level secure, so please let me know if dramatic collapse is imminent.” He finished looping and tucking the excess rope to keep it out of the way.

“I will let you know,” Tara agreed solemnly.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” His lips twitched. “Stay here.”

Tara tensed, but she shook it off, one brow arching. “You’re leaving?” She was fairly certain the question had seemed nicely casual.

“I am. Because you’re short.”

At that, Tara sputtered in outrage, remembered anxiety forgotten. Nathan slipped out, leaving the door cracked. She listened to his quick footsteps retreat, then return. He toed the door open, carried in a counter-height stool, then closed the door. He set the stool in front of her, legs spread and braced so she now occupied the space between his knees.

Nathan gestured at himself. “Like I said, you’re short. This way, I don’t have to bend over or reach up the way I would in a regular chair.”

“I would hate for your arms to get tired while you were torturing my breasts.”

“Right?” Nathan grinned and grabbed her hips, yanking her forward a half step, until her thighs were wedged between his. He leaned in, burring his face between her breasts. The way he exhaled seemed almost like relief—the kind of relief someone felt when they came home at the end of a long day and lay on the couch.

She wished she had a hand free to stroke his hair, maybe cradle his head there. Hold him. Keep him.

Nathan turned his head, his silky hair brushing against the inner curve of her left breast. He kissed and licked her right breast, and the tender feeling faded as arousal surged to the forefront.

Tara twisted, trying to guide her nipple into his mouth, which was currently placing open-mouthed kisses along the inner curve of her tit.

A sharp spank sent her up on her toes with a gasp. Nathan’s face was still hidden against her breast, but she felt him smile.

“The rope is quick release. I can easily put you over my knee if it will help you remember who is in control.”

“Sorry, Sir,” she breathed.

He lifted his head. “I want to try something.”

“You’ve mentioned that. Several times.”

Another smile. “Something different.” The smile faded. “I want you to use my name. Instead of ‘Sir’ or…any other title.”

Tara hid her surprise, studying his face. He was frowning slightly, looking at her waist rather than her face or breasts, as if he were embarrassed by the request.

“Yes, Nathan.” She shivered unexpectedly. Nathan. Her friend. Now, at least temporarily, her Dom.

The last Dom she’d ever have.

His fingers flexed against her, digging in to her hips. He let out a heavy breath, then leaned in and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Tara’s head fell back as he switched from sucking to biting and tugging. He teased her with tongue and teeth, always changing to keep the sensation fresh. Back to sucking, then biting gently.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, her face muscles aching as she screwed up her face, eyes closed so she could better concentrate on the feelings. Her pussy clenched each time a particularly effective touch made euphoria prickle through her like the trailing sparks of a firework. He cupped her free breast, taking the weight of her tit in his big hand and digging his fingers in until her flesh plumped between them.

Distracted by the pleasure of his mouth and hands on her breasts, the spank took her by surprise. Tara lurched with a yelp as his hands smacked her ass. Given that her nipple was held gently between his teeth when she moved, the resulting flare of pain from her nipple matched that of the sting on her bottom.

“Thank me,” he murmured against her.

“Thank you, Nathan,” she stammered out, nipple aching.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I like that.”

Before she could ask him why he sounded so distressed at the admission, he was gone, jerking up from the stool and striding to the other side of the room, where he paused only momentarily before returning.

“Time to torture these pretty tits.” He held up a roll of black electrician’s tape, showing it to her.

It took Tara a moment to process what he’d just said. It felt like she had whiplash from the quick shift in the energy from soft and almost longing, to brusque and focused. “Tape?” she finally managed. “Is that one of the items?”

“No. I just like the look.”

Tara wasn’t actually sure what he was planning to do with the tape. In the few public BDSM clubs she’d been to, quite often, women wore Xs of electrical tape over their nipples to technically avoid being nude. Maybe he was going to cover her nipples, and just focus on the rest of her breasts.

The tape made a satisfying noise as Nathan peeled off a long piece, but he didn’t tear or cut it off.

He stuck the end of the tape against the inside of her right breast, making sure it adhered with quick presses of his fingers. Holding the tape roll with his left hand, he pinched her nipple with the right and lifted her breast. Sweet pain flared as her nipple was forced to bear the weight of her tit.

Nathan ran the tape under her breast, up the outer side, across the top, and then over the starting point, circling the base of her tit with a band of heavy black tape.

He kept going, overlapping the stretchy tape until he’d created a two-inch-wide black band that turned her breast into a tight, round ball, forced up off her chest wall.

Then he switched to the other breast, repeating the bondage.

When he was done, both breasts were lewdly on display. Round, firm, and protruding rather than the soft teardrop shape that was natural to her.

Nathan pressed the back of his hand against each breast in turn, checking the temperature. “You’ll tell me if anything starts to pinch, or you stop being able to feel what I’m doing.”

“Yes, Nathan.”

“Good girl.”

Nathan settled onto the stool and stroked and petted her breasts, while Tara wondered how he was going to use nipple clamps, given that the bondage had caused her nipples to go flat.

He took her nipples between his thumbs and the knuckle of his index fingers, able to easily pinch them despite their non-erect state. Clamps weren’t going to be a problem.

He twisted her nipples, and Tara let her head fall back, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as she processed the feeling. There was a tight, stretching sensation in her breasts that was entirely new. Because her nipples weren’t hard, it also felt like he wasn’t pinching her whole nipple, which added an unsettling, incomplete feeling that had her longing for him to do more.

Touch her, hurt her, more.

The clamps would be interesting if this was how she felt just from his fingers.

But the gleaming silver toy he brought over wasn’t nipple clamps.

“Do you know what this is?” Nathan held up the item he’d retrieved as he settled back on the stool.

The small device had a long silver handle that ended in a small pizza-cutter-like wheel, but instead of a blade, the edge of the disk was metal spikes.

“Pinwheel,” she said, though she was fairly certain it had a technical name.

“This is medical grade, making it a Wartenburg wheel. Mostly used to test patients for neuropathy. The small pins allow for precision accuracy when mapping nerve damage.”

“You’re using your lecture voice, and it’s way hotter than it should be.”

Nathan grinned at her. “Glad you like it.”

He placed the wheel on the underside of her right breast then slowly rolled it up over the curve. He avoided her nipple but caught the edge of her areola.

The tiny pinpricks were precise and relentless, yet frustrating.

“Again, Nathan, again,” she pleaded, eyes closed so she could focus on the feeling.

Once more, a path of pinpricks ran up her breast, but this time he was pressing harder, the pins indenting her skin. Tara hissed, going up on her toes.

“Heels down,” Nathan commanded.

Tara dropped, heels hitting hard.

“Open your eyes.”

Tara did, looking first at his familiar face. The heat and need in his gaze might be new, but she was rapidly coming to appreciate it.

Nathan held up another wheel, but unlike the first one, this one had multiple disks of wicked pins. It looked like a tiny version of something used to aerate a lawn.

“Watch. I want you to watch as I use this on you.”

Nathan positioned the wheel on the underside of her breast, pushing up, so for a moment, the weight of her bound breast rested on the pins.

Then he rolled it up the curve of her tit, passing right over her nipple. Pain exploded through her as the plethora of small spikes dug directly into her nipple. It stole her breath, overwhelming her as her mind struggled to put a label on what she was feeling.

If her mind would settle, her brain categorized this moment either as pleasure, pain, or normal pleasure-pain.

He did it again.

And again.

There was no label, no clear category for what he was doing to her. Pleasure and pain existed on a linear continuum, where one morphed into another.

The sting of a spanking became the physical pleasure of the deep, warm ache combined with an emotional pleasure at being spanked.

Direct clitoral stimulation right after an orgasm was pleasure so acute it slid over to pain.

No clean, linear continuum existed here. Instead of sliding side to side, closer either to the pleasure or pain ends of the scale, this was a three-dimensional fractal, complex and chaotic, sharp spikes of pain sliding down a facet of pleasure to fetch up against an intersection that was pain-pleasure, then making a sharp left to a different shade of pain.

Again, the pins passed over her nipple, this time moving horizontally.

This vacillation between degrees of pleasure and pain made Tara’s teeth clench, her pussy throb, and her back arch.

“You’re offering up your tits when you do that,” Nathan said in a low voice.

“Because I need more,” she said through her teeth.

She needed surety. Needed to label this either pleasure or pain. If not that, she needed to identify a predictable pattern in either his movements or the sensation.

Nathan once against positioned the spiked wheel below her nipple, digging the spikes in hard as he rolled it up over her nipple. When the wheel reached the tapeline, he reversed course, passing over her nipple once more, pressing hard enough that for a shocked moment, she was sure he’d pierced her skin. But when she looked down, all she saw was rapidly fading dots.

Tara tugged once at the bonds, desperate to rub away the lingering pain. She was helpless, unable to do anything but take it as her Dom teased and tormented her.

The constant changes in both sensation and pattern had her feeling on edge, out of control...

Helpless.

Deliciously, dangerous helpless.

Again and again, Nathan ran the pins over her skin, sometimes pressing hard enough to leave more of those small, quick-fading dots. Up and down, back and forth, the wheel stung and pricked her, until her throbbing tit felt raw and sensitized.

Then he switched to the other breast. Tara shrieked the first time he applied the spikes to that nipple, dancing back a step only for his strong arm to band around her waist, pulling her forward into the space between his knees.

“You’re going to take it for me like a good girl aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Nathan.”

“That’s right. Lean on me if you have to.”

Nathan helped position her so her body was angled to his and she could rest her right side against his chest and shoulder, her ass propped against his thigh.

Nathan kissed the top of her abused right breast, then rested his cheek there as he worked the wheel over her left tit.

He focused on her nipple, with tiny back and forth rolls that caused rapid-fire sparks of pain to shoot through her.

Tara panted, tears wetting her cheeks, while her sex throbbed with need.

“Need me to stop?” he asked softly.

“No, no, no. I need more.” Her words came hard and fast. “I need you to fuck me. I want you to spread my legs and use that thing on my clit. I want you to bite me and hurt me and kiss me and...”

Tara screamed when Nathan bit one breast even as he ground the pinwheel into her other nipple.