F is for…: BDSM Checklist, Book Six Page 4

  He dropped his hand from his lips. “Take off your clothes, Katrina.”

  Chapter 4

  Katrina put her hands down beside her knees, hopped her feet back onto the tile, and then pushed up to a standing position. Every move she made seemed precise and practiced. He hadn’t thought he’d find that attractive, but he did.

  Or perhaps it was the contrast between her controlled actions and the emotional storm he’d glimpsed in her eyes.

  She spread her legs shoulder width apart and then grasped the bottom of the corset. She squeezed the sides together, working the hidden front closures loose with her thumbs.

  Dante leaned back and propped his ankle on his knee, leaning to the side and bracing one elbow on the arm of the chair. There were few things in this world as enjoyable as watching a woman get naked.

  One by one she undid the corset closures. When she reached the mid-point she stopped and started unfastening it from the top down. He heard the changing in her breathing and the corset, still tight despite the fact that he’d loosened it, came undone. He watched her breasts fall as they returned to a more natural position on her chest.

  When there was one hook left, she looked up. Their gazes met and held. Her eyes were full of defiance.

  Dante cocked his head. What was that about?

  She released the last hook and the corset dropped off her body. There was still defiance in her eyes, as if…

  As if she expected him to reject her, or shame her.

  What the hell had her former Master done to her?

  He said nothing, but stared at her breasts. They were full and so pale he could see blue veins through the skin. When he’d looked his fill he returned his gaze to hers.

  Silence stretched between them. She was definitely challenging him. How to handle it?

  He had only a scant handful of the puzzle pieces. Handling this the wrong way could do her real emotional harm, and he would never want that.

  Luckily he had the checklist game to fall back on. Perhaps it would be easier for her to function in, and healthily inhabit, her submissive headspace if he made everything explicitly about the game.

  “The first item we’re going to explore is following orders.” He dropped his voice, using his commanding Dom tone. “You will follow my orders immediately and fully. If you do not understand or are not capable, you use the stoplight method. You know that method?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You say yellow if you need clarification or are physically incapable of following my orders. Other than that, you will obey.”

  She dropped her gaze from his. “Yes, Sir.” Her breathing was just a bit choppy, a physical reaction to his command.

  “Remove. Your. Clothes.” He barked out each word.

  She winced and immediately hooked her thumbs in her skirt. She slid it down and off. She picked up both the corset and the skirt, folded them neatly, and then placed them by her shoes. Then she positioned herself in front of his chair and spread her legs. She placed her feet on either side of the cushion, effectively using it as a spreader bar.

  Smart girl.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, for not removing my clothing in a timely manner.”

  “You expected something to happen when you took off your corset. What was it?”

  “My breasts, Sir.”

  “You thought I’d be surprised you had breasts?”

  That startled a laugh out of her. “No, Sir. But my breasts are not…”

  “Not real? That’s not a problem.”

  She looked startled. “If they were implants, I’d hope they’d be much nicer.”

  It was Dante’s turn to be surprised. She was ashamed of her body? She was gorgeous and slender with unblemished skin. Her pussy was smooth and hairless, her legs long and lean. He’d played with subs who were a bit overweight, or had various other body image issues. There was never anything wrong with them as far as Dante was concerned, but usually could understand what they were talking about. The media held women, and in many ways men too, to a ridiculous standard. He could understand when they worried about the ways in which they didn’t look like the women in magazines.

  But Katrina did look like the women in the magazines, if slightly older than the teenage models who were most likely to be found there.

  “Explain, Katrina.” He made it an order.

  “My breasts are too large and saggy, Sir.”

  “Based on what?”

  She opened her mouth, but closed it again.

  “I was just thinking that what the media has done to women is ridiculous. You’re beautiful, Katrina. While you’re submitting to me you won’t speak badly of yourself, because doing so would be countermanding what I say. I can see all of you. You’re gorgeous. Every inch of you.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “What are you, Katrina?”

  “Gorgeous, Sir.” Her smile was rueful.

  “I know that ordering you to say that won’t change how you feel, but I want to make it clear that I find you attractive and value you, and will not tolerate you defying me.”

  “I understand, Sir.”

  “Good. Now, I’m going to take advantage of having a beautiful naked woman who has to obey all my commands.”

  “Would you like me to remain silent unless asked a direct question, Sir?”

  “No. I want to hear your thoughts. I want to know you.”

  She blinked a few times, and for a minute he was scared she might start crying. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Bend forward. Put your hands on the arms of the chair. Now rest your head on my shoulder.”

  Katrina tucked her face into his neck. He’d noticed she liked that, which was why he chose this position. With her hands braced on the arms of the chair and her head tucked against his neck, he couldn’t see much beyond her back.

  “Arch your back down, ass up.”

  Now he had a lovely view of the sweet cheeks of her ass. One of the advantages of her skin color was that she’d get nice and pink when he flogged or spanked her.

  He cupped her ribs, his big hands spanning her sides. He slid them slowly down her sides to her hips. This time he let his rough-skinned palms skim over her, wanting her to feel that roughness, to warn her that he would hurt her, in all the good ways she needed to be hurt.

  He reversed the movement, this time letting his thumbs trail up her belly, until he touched the swell of her breast.

  She shivered.

  “Do you enjoy nipple play, Katrina?”

  “I do, Sir.”

  “Hard or soft.”

  “Both, Sir, though clamps have a tendency to make me go numb.”

  “I’m going to touch your breasts now.”

  She panted against his collar. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

  He cupped her breasts, the nipples against his palms. He tested the weight of the heavy globes and then squeezed. She gasped.

  “You enjoy that?”

  “Yes, Sir. Very much.”

  “Good. I doubt I’ll let these nice tits go more than a few minutes without my fingers or teeth on them.”

  She moaned again and he felt the fabric of his shirt move. Awkwardly, he turned his head enough to look at her. She’d taken a fold of fabric in her teeth and was biting his shirt.

  “I don’t want you to stifle yourself. I want to hear you.”

  She released his shirt and leaned slightly to one side so she could look at him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I wasn’t trying to stop myself from making noise.”

  He squeezed her breasts again and she bit her lower lip.

  “Ah,” he said, “You’re a biter.”

  She released her lip and nodded. “I clench my teeth, and, uh, my dentist told me I had to stop doing that.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to bite your lip either. Thank you for telling me, Katrina. I will make sure you don’t hurt your teeth or jaw.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “I’m going to keep playing with your breasts. While I do, I want you
to kiss my neck. If you need to, you may suck on my earlobe.”

  Katrina made a happy noise. “Thank you, Sir.” She nuzzled into his neck, pushing the loose collar of his polo aside with her lips and nose. Her lips slid against his skin, her breath bathed his neck, and then she licked him, a quick little flick of her tongue that lit up his nerve endings. Dante nearly jumped.

  “Damn, girl.” He gave her breasts another squeeze. “Keep that up and we’re going to have to accelerate our timeline.”

  She slid her lips up his neck and then flicked her tongue over the spot just below and behind his ear. He growled, his cock painfully hard in his pants.

  In retaliation he squeezed her breasts and slid his fingers down until he pinched her hanging nipples.

  Katrina gasped and her teeth started to close on the skin of his neck, but she stopped herself and instead lifted her head just enough to take his earlobe in her mouth. She sucked and flicked it with her tongue, her panting breath loud in his ear.

  “That’s right. I’m going to play with your nipples for a few minutes. Have you ever come from nipple play alone?”

  She hummed an affirmative.

  “I don’t want you to come. You haven’t earned it yet. If you’re close to orgasm you say ‘close.’ Do you understand?” He punctuated the question with a twist to her nipples.

  She released his earlobe long enough to say, “Yes, Sir.” Then her lips were back on his neck. She kept her mouth open against his skin, her tongue flicking out in measured licks, her breath now cool against his damp skin.

  Dante leaned back in the chair, tilting his head to give her better access to his neck. He relaxed into the moment. He had a beautiful naked woman, panting with the desire to be fucked, her breasts soft playthings in his hands.

  He plucked her nipples, letting them slide between his fingers. Since she was bent forward he lightly slapped each breast, feeling them bounce.

  Every time he twisted or pinched a nipple she would react. He used those reactions to learn her. Dominating a sexual submissive was never easy or simple, and that’s what he liked about it.

  Katrina enjoyed variety. She reacted best when he kept changing it up. Repeating any one action or motion too many times allowed her to settle into it. He wanted to feel her jump and pant, so he played hard—squeeze the whole breast, pinch the nipple, slap, twist and pull, then just pull, another pinch, another squeeze.

  He kept going, his entire focus on her sweet breasts which he couldn’t even see, could only feel.

  Katrina jerked her head away from his neck. “Close! Close, close, Sir.”

  Dante dropped his hands from her breasts.

  Katrina made a sad little noise.

  “Talk to me, Katrina.”

  “I was kind of hoping you would just say I could come, Sir.”

  She was teasing him. Good. “Now would that be fun?”

  “For me? Yes.”

  Dante laughed. He gave her nipples a parting flick with his thumbs. “Stand up.”

  She rose, her breasts slightly red from the few small slaps. Her nipples were hard and a deep raspberry pink. He grabbed her waist, jerked her close, and took one nipple into his mouth. He had to taste her.

  Katrina braced her hands on his shoulders. With her legs spread, she hadn’t been able to keep her balance when he grabbed her. When he sucked her nipple, her hands clenched on his shoulders, fingers bunching his shirt.

  Holding her nipple captive with his teeth, he looked up. Her eyes were closed, head tipped back, jaw tight. He released her nipple with a pop.

  “Mouth open,” he barked.

  Katrina’s lips parted.

  “Tongue out.”

  She stuck her tongue out just enough to cover her lower lip.

  “Keep your mouth open.”

  She nodded once.

  Happy that she wouldn’t hurt her jaw, he moved to the other nipple. With her mouth open he could easily track her arousal by the sounds she made. Bite her nipple, she gasped. Suck her nipple, a slow breath. Flick it with his tongue, she moaned.

  When he was happy with the state of her nipples, he eased her back, not letting go until he was sure she had her balance.

  She raised her hands, lacing her fingers together behind her neck. This lifted her well-used breasts. It was a position that left her totally open. She was an offering.

  “I’m going to touch your pussy now.”

  She nodded once, keeping her mouth open.

  Dante slid his hands up her splayed thighs, thumbs on her inner thighs. He stopped when he reached the point where thigh met groin. This moment should be savored. He only had one opportunity to touch her pussy for the first time.

  He forced himself to wait, until the anticipation built in his blood. He brought himself to the point where his control was tenuous. Only then did he move, sliding both thumbs over the lips of her pussy. Even the outer labia were damp with her body’s moisture.

  “What a lovely, smooth pussy,” he growled. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He parted the lips of her sex. “Tilt your hips towards me. I’ll take time to examine your pussy later, when I can lay you on a bed.”

  Katrina canted her hips so he could better see her. He dug his thumbs into her labia, keeping them spread, though the hot, wet flesh wanted to slide out from under his firm touch.

  He blew against her pussy, enjoying the sounds she made as he did it.

  “When was the last time you had vaginal sex, or any sort of vaginal penetration.”

  “It’s been a while, Sir.” As soon as she was done speaking, she returned to her open-mouth tongue out position.

  “Give me an exact amount of time.” He reminded himself that this was about following orders. This item on their letter was hardly a challenge for her. In a way it was a challenge for him, because he didn’t normally bark out orders.

  “Seventeen or eighteen months, Sir.”

  That made him pause. “Nothing in that time?”

  “Perhaps my fingers, Sir.”

  “Who is the last man who had his cock in you?”

  “My…my ex, Sir.”

  Damn it. Was he her rebound? That shouldn’t piss him off as much as it did.

  “Position yourself so I can inspect your ass and pussy. You have ninety seconds.” Some of his anger had leaked into his voice.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She dropped her arms and glanced around. Then she stepped back so her legs weren’t spread by the cushion. She grabbed the cushion and set it to the side, then grabbed the other chair and dragged it forward. Dante got up and checked the drawers of the dresser until he found a box of rubber gloves. He shoved a couple into his pocket and grabbed a glass plug and a tube of lube. Every playroom in Las Palmas was stocked with toys, either new in plastic toys, or one that could be cleaned and sanitized, like the glass plug.

  When he turned around Katrina was bent at the waist. Her forearms and forehead rested on the seat of the other chair. Her legs were spread, her back nicely arched so her ass was upthrust. He bent and leaned to the side so he could see her face. Her nose touched the seat, and her mouth was closed.

  Dante grabbed one last thing out of the dresser and then made his way over to her. He squatted beside the chair.

  “Open,” he ordered.

  She opened her mouth. He slid a plain wooden ruler under her arm and then between her teeth.

  “Close. I expect you to hold this in your teeth, but if you bite down and leave marks in the wood you will earn a punishment. Raise both index fingers if you understand.”

  She closed her teeth gingerly on the ruler, then raised her fingers.

  Since he was down here anyway, he tweaked each nipple before standing up. Sliding into his seat, he set the lube and butt plug down on the table, on top of the checklist papers. Plucking two black gloves from his pocket, he pulled them on with the ease of long practice. He heard her breath hitch at the sound of the gloves squeaking and snapping as he put them on.

  The flaw in gaggin
g her with the ruler was that it meant he couldn’t ask her questions. Well, he could, but he’d have to consistently ask her to remove and replace the ruler. She was submitting to him, and that meant he would care for her. She needed to not clench her teeth, so he would make sure she didn’t.

  He spread his fingers on the back of her thighs, thumbs going back to her labia majora. “I’m going to play with this pussy. You’re going to maintain this position. Then I’m going to plug your ass.”

  Chapter 5

  “Then I’m going to plug your ass.”

  Yes, yes, yes. Please.

  Katrina started to bite down, then stopped herself. The ruler filled her mouth with the taste of wood. Bent and spread, she was vulnerable and open, and it felt so nice. It was as if she’d shed armor she’d been wearing for years, and now her skin could breathe.

  His fingers—finally—slid between her pussy lips. She sighed with relief. Some pessimistic part of her had insisted this wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t happen. She’d get to the club today and be told that no one wanted to top her, or her assigned Dom would take one look at her and request a different partner.

  But now he was touching her pussy with the confidence and assurance she needed. It had been years and years since she’d had vanilla sex, but the fumbling, tentative touches weren’t a fond memory. She wanted a Master. A Dom who would inspect and claim her pussy.

  Master Dante spread her wide, fingers pressing open her outer labia while his thumb ran up and down her inner, intimate flesh. He pinched her clit lightly between his thumbs, then slid up to her entrance and pressed one thumb in.

  Katrina moaned and rose onto her toes. She was tight, so tight that even that small penetration had sent pleasure dancing up her torso and down her legs. Her nipples were tight and hypersensitive. Each breath she took made them swing, and that meant the air caressed her.

  “You’re very tight. I was planning to fuck this pussy with my fingers, but I’ve changed my mind.” His thumb withdrew. “I’m going to fuck you with my cock. I’m going to fill and stretch your pussy. It might even hurt, you’re that tight.”