Page 26 of Strength in Submission
I guide her to sit on the edge of the bed again, remaining standing so that I'm looking down at her. The position of power is intentional, establishing the dynamic between us.
"When we're like this, in this room, I'm in charge," I tell her. "You do as I say, when I say it. If you disobey, there are consequences. Not pain—never pain unless you ask for it—but punishment. Denial of pleasure. Delay of release. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she says, her voice steady even though she has an obvious flush on her cheeks.
"Good. Now, on the bed. On your back, arms above your head."
She complies immediately, lying back and stretching her arms over her head. The position makes her breasts rise, herback arch slightly. I retrieve the items from the nightstand—a length of soft rope, a silk blindfold, and a small vibrator.
"I'm going to tie your wrists," I explain, sitting beside her on the bed. "Not too tight. You'll be able to get free if you need to. And I'll blindfold you. The sensory deprivation will heighten everything else. Color?"
"Green," she says, eyes fixed on the rope in my hands.
I bind her wrists together, then secure them to the headboard with a quick-release knot. Next comes the blindfold, slipped gently over her eyes. Once it's in place, I wait, giving her time to adjust to the sensation of being restrained and blind.
"How do you feel?" I ask.
"Exposed," she admits. "But... safe."
The word sends a wave of satisfaction through me. "Good. That's exactly how you should feel. Now, don't move."
I start at her ankles, running my fingertips lightly up her calves, over her knees, along the inside of her thighs. She shivers, goosebumps rising on her skin. I avoid the place she wants me most, continuing up her stomach, circling her breasts without touching the sensitive peaks.
By the time I reach her throat, she's breathing hard, her body trembling. I lean down, my lips hovering just above hers.
"Tell me what you want," I whisper.
"Your mouth," she gasps. "Everywhere."
"Everywhere?" I tease. "That's not very specific."
"Please," she whimpers. "Sir, please touch me."
"Like this?" I cup one breast, rolling the nipple between my fingers. She arches into the touch, a moan escaping her lips. "Or like this?" I replace my fingers with my mouth, sucking the hard peak between my lips.
"Yes," she cries. "God, yes."
I take my time with her breasts, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer suction, using my teeth just enough to makeher gasp. All the while, my other hand explores lower, tracing patterns on her inner thighs, coming close to her center without quite touching it.
When I finally slide my fingers through her folds, she's soaking wet.
"Christ, you're drenched," I groan, circling her clit with my thumb. "All this for me?"
"Yes, Sir," she pants. "Just for you."
I slip one finger inside her, then another, feeling her walls clench around me. She's so responsive, her hips rising to meet each thrust of my hand. I curl my fingers, searching for that spot inside that will drive her wild.
When I find it, her whole body jerks, a strangled cry escaping her lips.
"There it is," I murmur, maintaining the pressure as I move my mouth to her other breast. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you."
I work her with my fingers, my thumb still circling her clit, until she's writhing beneath me, pulling against the restraints, her thighs trembling with the effort to hold back her orgasm.
"Please," she begs. "Please, Sir, I need to come."
I lift my head from her breast, watching her face as I increase the pressure on her clit. "Not yet," I tell her. "Not until I say."
She whimpers, her body tense as a bowstring. I can feel her getting closer, her inner walls fluttering around my fingers.
