Liam
TWO MONTHS LATER
It’s Saturday Afternoon here in my house. Ah! Our house. Ariana agreed to move in with me after I came up with several reasons as to why it would be better to live alone in her lonely apartment when we can live here together. I have all this space in my house and it feels more like home only when she is around.
Looking back a month ago when Ariana was away living with her parents, my life was incomplete. I was restless until I flew over to Arizona to bring her back. It was so hard for me. I completely hopeless at doing a long distance relationship. Taking on the phone felt so emotionless, so… off. I needed the touch, the assurence that Ariana is still mine, that she still loves me.
Good thing my plan worked, and she is here, staying with me. There is nothing more satisfying than coming home from work and finding my girl waiting for me, in my collar.
Yes, I collared her two weeks into her training. To show everyone that she is mine.
I walk into our playroom, in only my jeans. She is position, just like I asked her to. When I find Ariana kneeling as she should be at the entrance facing the room-eyes down, legs parted, and wearing only her panties-my first feeling is one of pride. Pride in this beautiful girl who is ready to offer her body and soul to me, for our pleasure. My smile is hard to hide.
Closing the door behind me, I walk past her barefoot to the chest of drawers.
And the leather shackles are in place.
At the chest I take out a hair tie, a blindfold and a heavy flogger. I look behind me, Ariana is still in her position, calm and quiet. Anticipation is half the buildup to a scene. Once I’m satisfied I go and stand over her. Aria’s head is bowed, the ambient light burnishing her hair. She looks modest and beautiful, the epitome of a submissive.
“You look lovely.” I cup her face and tilt her head up until blue eyes meet gray. “And you’re all mine,” I whisper. “Stand up.”
She’s a little stiff as she gets to her feet. “Look at me,” I order, and when I look into her eyes I know I could drown in her serious, rapt expression. I’ve got her full attention.
“I want you to remember your safe words, Ariana. You need them any time we are are going to do a scene.” I say.
She doesn’t have permission to speak, so she blinks a couple of times, but remains mute.
“What are they?” I demand.
“Yellow.”
“And?”
“Red.”
“Remember those.”
“Yes, Master,” she says quickly.
“Good girl. My intention is not that you should use the safe word because you’re in pain. What I intend to do to you will be intense. Very intense, and you have to guide me. Do you understand?”
Her face remains impassive, giving nothing away.
“This is about touch, Ariana. You will not be able to see me. But you’ll be able to feel me.”
“I am going to tie you to that bed, . But I’m going to blindfold you first”
“Come.” I lead her to the foot of the bed. “Stand here.” Leaning down, I breathe in her sweet scent and whisper in her ear, “Wait here. Keep your eyes on the bed. Picture yourself lying here, bound and totally at my mercy.”
She sucks in her breath. I gently take her hair and braid it. I fasten and tug on the braid so she’s forced to step back against me. Winding the end around my wrist, I pull to the right, bending her head to expose her neck. I run my nose from her earlobe to her shoulder, sucking and biting gently.
Hmm…She smells so good.
She shivers and hums deep in her throat.
“Hush, now,” I caution, and taking the flogger from my pocket, I reach around her, my arms brushing hers, and show it to her.
I hear her catch her breath and see her fingers twitch.
“Touch it,” I whisper, knowing that’s what she wants. She raises her hand, pauses, then runs her fingers through the soft suede tails. It’s arousing.
I drop the flogger on the bed and brush my fingers down her sides, past the soft swell of her hips, and slip them into her panties. “You won’t be needing these.” I drag them down her legs and kneel behind her. She grabs hold of the pillar to shuffle awkwardly out of her underwear.
“Stand still,” I command, and kiss her behind, gently nipping each cheek. “Now lie down. Faceup.” I spank her once, and she jumps, startled, and scurries onto the bed. She lies down facing me, her eyes on mine, glowing with excitement-and a little trepidation, I think.
“Hands above your head.”
She does as she’s told.
“Lift your head.” She obeys, and I slip the blindfold over her eyes. Rising, I take her left hand and cuff her wrist to the leather shackle at the top corner of the bed. I let my fingers linger down her outstretched arm and she wriggles in response. As I walk slowly around the bed, her head follows the sound of my footsteps; I repeat the process with her right hand, cuffing her wrist.
Ariana’s breathing alters, becoming erratic and fast through parted lips. A flush creeps up her chest, and she squirms and lifts her hips in anticipation.
Good.
At the bottom of the bed I grab both her ankles. “Lift your head again,” I order. She does so immediately, and I drag her down the bed so that her arms are fully extended.
She lets out a quiet moan and lifts her hips once more.
I cuff each of her ankles to the corresponding corner of the bed so that she’s spread-eagled before me and I step back to admire the view.
Fuck.
Has she ever looked this hot?
She’s totally and willingly at my mercy. The knowledge is intoxicating, and I stand for a moment to marvel at her generosity and courage.
I drag myself away from the spellbinding sight and from the chest of drawers collect the rabbit-fur glove.
And I walk around the bed, drinking her in.
Reaching out, I caress her neck with the glove. She inhales sharply and pulls at her shackles, but she doesn’t cry out or tell me to stop. Slowly I run my gloved hand down her throat, over her sternum, then over her breasts, enjoying her restrained squirm. Circling her breasts, I gently tug on each of her nipples, and her moan of appreciation encourages me to head south. At a leisurely, deliberate pace I explore her body: her belly, her hips, the apex of her thighs, and down each leg. I watch her mouth to determine how she’s feeling; now she gapes in pleasure, now she bites her lip. When I run my hand over her sex she clenches her behind, pushing herself into my hand.
Though I normally like her to keep still, the movement pleases me.
My sweet greedy girl!
When I brush her breasts again her nipples harden in the wake of the glove.
Yes.
Now that her skin is sensitized I remove the glove and pick up the flogger. With great care I trail the beaded ends over her skin, following the same pattern: over her chest, her breasts, her belly, through her pubic hair, and down her legs. As more choristers lend their voices to the motet I lift the handle of the flogger and flick the tresses across her belly. She cries out, I think in surprise, but she doesn’t safe-word. I give her a moment to absorb the sensation, then do it again-a little harder this time.
She pulls at her shackles and calls out once more, a garbled cry-but it’s not the safe word. I lash the flogger over her breasts, and she tilts her head back and lets out a soundless cry, her mouth slack as she writhes on the red satin.
Still no safe word.
I feel giddy with delight as I rain the tails up and down her body, watching her skin warm under their bite.
Christ. She looks stunning.
I begin again. I flick the flogger over her, again and again, and she writhes beneath each blow.
Then I stop, dropping the flogger on the floor. I’m breathless, panting with want and need.
Fuck.
She lays on the bed, helpless, her skin pretty in pink, and she’s panting, too
I climb onto the bed between her legs and crawl over her, holding myself above her. I follow the pattern of the flogger, using my mouth, kissing and sucking and worshipping every inch of her body. I tease each of her nipples until they are glistening with my saliva and standing at attention. She writhes as much as the restraints allow and groans beneath me. My tongue trails down to her belly, around her navel, laving her. Tasting her. I dip my face between her legs. Around and around I swirl, drinking in her scent, drinking in her reaction, until I feel her tremble beneath me.
Oh no. Not yet, Ariana. Not yet.
I stop and she huffs her voiceless disappointment.
I kneel up between her legs and pull open my fly, freeing my erection. Then, leaning over, I gently undo the left shackle around her ankle. She curls her leg around me in a long-limbed caress while I release her other ankle. Once she’s free I massage and knead the life back into her legs, from her calves up to her thighs. She wriggles beneath me, as my thumbs work their way up her inner thighs, which are dewy from her arousal.
I stifle a growl and grasp her hips, lifting her from the bed, and in one swift, rough move I bury myself inside her.
Fuck.
She’s slick and hot and wet and her body pulses around me, on the edge.
No. Too soon. Way too soon.
I stop, holding myself still over her and in her, while sweat beads on my brow.
“Please,” she calls out, and I tighten my hold on her as I quell the urge to move and lose myself in her. Closing my eyes so I can’t see her laid out beneath me in all her wonder, I concentrate on the music; and once I’m in control again, slowly I start to move. As the intensity of the choral piece builds I slowly increase my pace, matching the power and rhythm of the music, cherishing every tight inch inside her.
She fists her hands and tilts her head back and moans.
Yes.
“Please, Master,” she pleads between gritted teeth.
I hear you, baby.
Laying her back down on the bed, I stretch out over her, supporting my weight on my elbows, and I follow the rhythm, thrusting into her and losing myself in her.
Sweet, brave Ariana.
My girl.
I love you.
Sweat glides down my back.
Come on, baby.
Please.
And finally she explodes around me, shouting out her release and pushing me into an intense, draining climax where I lose all sense of self. I collapse on top of her as my world shifts and realigns. She is my world. She is the only person in this world who can make me feel this way. I capture her lips, kissing her hard. I pull her into my embrace, still kissing her.
“I love you, Aria. You make me so proud,” I tell her and my heart swells with heavy emotions.
“I love you too, master,” she says and then cuddles into my chest.
Master.
Every time she calls me that, my heart swells, knowing that she wants me and needs my domination. It was not just earned by collaring her but because I have earned her trust, and her love. Damn. What did I ever do to deserve this?