Posted on September 22, 2016
She stood at the mirror of her studio as she carefully tied the tasseled hip scarf in place. She smiled in remembrance as she ran her fingers over the burgundy velvet and brass coins. This was her most prized hip scarf, a gift from Him he’d brought back for her on one of his many business trips overseas along with the matching bra. He’d told her that he though the rustic color and the gold yellow accented tassels would be a striking complement to her exotic dark skin. He’d been right, and she’d never felt sexier, neither as a woman or a belly dancer, than when she wore his ensemble. Some of her best performances happened in this ensemble. The others in her troupe teased her saying that some tribal God must have blessed the very threads himself. They had no idea how close to the truth they were, for in her mind he was indeed her very own God of a different kind. They had no idea that when she danced her solos in this ensemble the entire world faded and she danced for one purpose. Him.
The sound of a closing door and footsteps approaching brought her out of her thoughts. Eyeing the open door behind her in the mirror she called out, “I’m sorry. There are no classes tonight. The studio is closed.”
“I know,” a familiar voice called. Seconds later his body filled the door frame, hands clasped behind his back. “That’s why I used my key.”
Smiling brightly, she whirled around to face him. His eyes ran over her approvingly as he stepped fully into the studio his presence filling it nearly to the brim. She felt her heart flutter and became a bit breathless as he approached. He moved like a predator, power, and confidence swirling about him like a second skin. He looked the epitome of class and sophistication in his black tailored suit and royal blue tie, but she knew well the beast that resided beneath the threads.
“You’re home early,” she said a bit breathless her eyes dropping to the floor unable to hold his intense gaze any longer.
He stopped just before her his hands still clasped behind his back. He was close, so close she could feel his heat seep into her skin, yet not close enough to touch her. Anticipation rose within her.
“My meetings went very well,” He said watching her closely. He didn’t miss the way she pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. Good, he thought. “I caught an early flight and thought I’d find you here.”
“You’ve come to watch me practice?,” her dark gaze meeting his. He noted the glint of excitement in them, and his heart smiled.
“Yes,” he said quickly regaining composure remembering why he was here. It’d been eight days. Eight frustrating days of business meetings and dinners filled with harsh negotiations in pursuit of his goal and yet he emerged victoriously. However, at the end of each day, all he could think of was the woman that stood before him now. His very own sweet submissive, eager to please and so very responsive to his touch. As sweet as she was, she held a fiery passion to her, a fire who’s flames he itched to stroke. His chest tightened as her smile grew wider as she opened her mouth to speak but he cut her short.
“Not so fast, sprite,” he said his voice low and deep. “You’re over dressed for this rehearsal. Strip. Now.”
Her brows drew together in a knot of confusion as she took in his command. Strip? Here? In the studio?! Her eyes darted to the large windows facing the street. They were on the second floor, yet all one had to do was look up to see the goings about in the studio. What if someone saw her? Worse, what if one of her students happened by? Fear washed over her.
“Eyes on me, sub,” he commanded his voice calm yet giving no quarter. He voice made it clear that he was to be obeyed.
Here yes snapped to his face where she found him waiting, his strong jaw set firmly. She saw the tiniest tick of a muscle in his jaw and knew his patience was wearing thin. Head bowed she began to undress, carefully folding each article of clothing and bending low to place them neatly at his feet. When she stood naked before him, she moved to kneel in his preferred position.
“No,” the single word spoken with such calm yet wielded such command. “Stand. Feet apart and your hands behind your head.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied moving quickly into position. Her eyes remained lowered as he took in every line and curve of her body. She was tall with a lovely mix of muscles and curves thanks to her dancing and fitness regimen. Her breast were full, and her dark nipples called for his attention. Her hips were full and lush given way to a most spankable ass resting proudly atop long legs. His pants grew tighter as he remembered all the ways she could move that body. His pants grew even tighter at the thought of all the ways he could make her body move. Needing to feel the heat of her skin he reached out grasping a breast, kneading it firmly. He eyed her carefully as her eyes closed and her breathing increased. She was already wet for him, and he could practically smell her. So responsive. Slowly he trailed his hands down her torso to her belly feeling the muscles give a small quiver at his touch. He continued to her hairless mound and with skillful fingers parted her flesh and tested her wetness.
She gasped as his fingers touched her most sensitive spot. She bit down on the corner of her lower lip as sensation washed over her. Eight days had been far too long without his touch, and now she found herself beyond desperate. His fingers slipped along her folds in a cruel slow tease. She needed more. As if he heard her thoughts two large fingers slipped inside her at the same time his mouth closed around one nipple. She cried out in joyous pleasure as his fingers and thumb began to work their magic as his mouth played with one breast and then another. Unable to help herself she arched against him, her body seeking more of his touch. His fingers began to move quicker, and her body climbed higher and higher towards a climax. Her moans filled the quiet in the studio her hands balling into fists behind her head. Just before she reached the pentacle of bliss, he withdrew his finger and mouth taking a step back from her. She caught the squeal of protest just before it left her lips. She stared at him in disbelief as she fought hard to catch her breath and hold her position. Her eyes widened when he finally brought his hands from behind his back revealing yellow rope and a strap on vibrator.
He kneeled before her holding open the straps of the vibrator. “Step in,” he commanded. Obediently, her mind still a haze from a near orgasm, she stepped into the straps. Standing he pulled the straps up to her hips and adjusted the tiny butterfly so that it sat firmly against her clit.
“This rehearsal comes with rules, sprite,” he said as he began tying the rope around her body in intricate knots. Skillfully he began to create a body harness designed to isolate her breast while accentuating her hips. “You are going to practice your solo, and I am going to watch. Rule number one, if you make a mistake, you will be punished. Don’t think for a second you can cover it up. You may be able to hide it from others, but I’ve seen you dance enough and know your body well enough to catch the tiny little telltale marks you make when you make a mistake. So, this had better be a grand performance, understood?”
“Y-yes, Sir,” she replied her mouth suddenly dry. She wondered what he planned to do with the vibrator. Perhaps use that for her punishment?
“Rule number two,” he continued as he tied her. “No matter what happens you are not to come without permission. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied her heart thundering wildly in her ears. Could he hear it?
“And before I forget,” he said as he finished tying the last knot. “You’ll be wearing these,” he said pulling silver nipple clamps from his pocket. She noted the tiny weights that dangled from them. She licked her dry lips as anticipation, fear, and excitement coursed through her body. He carefully plucked her already hardened nipples in preparation. “Deep breath, sprite,” he said.
She sucked in a deep breath but released it on a cry as he applied one clamp and then the other. She breathed deeply as the erotic mixture of pain and pleasure swirled from her breast through her body.
“Rule number three,” he said as he turned from her walking to deposit himself in a nearby chair planting one ankle over a knee. “For every mistake made, I will add more weight to each clamp. Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed.
Reaching into his pocket he retrieved a small remote, pressing one of the tiny buttons. Her body jerked in surprise as the vibrator came to life. She eyed him in utter shock as the low hum filled her ears.
“You may begin,” he said calmly watching her closely.
Gingerly she turned and walked to the sound system, and each step sent the vibrator grinding against her clit. How in the bloody hell was she supposed to dance with this? As much as she cherished her Dom, he could be one evil bastard. It was one of the many things she loved about him. She cued the music and gingerly walked to the center of the room and took up her position just in front of him. She stood in her starting pose and closed her eyes breathing deeply, blocking out everything. She was centering herself ready for the dance. If she could just concentrate on the music, she might survive this. Seconds later the opening notes of Gypsy Rain by Gypsy Caravan filled the studio.
As she raised her arms above her head moving her body to the opening chords pain sliced through her as the nipple clamps giggled and the rope bit into her flesh. Damn him, was her thought as the pain was joined by the pleasure from the vibrator. She kept her eyes closed fighting to block out the sensations as she concentrated on each step and bounce of her hips. Just when she thought she’d reached an equilibrium the vibrator suddenly pulsed with more force. She jerked her step faltering as her eyes flew open instantly locking on the remote he casually held in his hand. With a slight shake of his head, he rose to his feet.
“Stop,” he commanded as he walked towards her reaching into his pocket. She froze in place fighting desperately not to squirm or cry out against the vibrations. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. As he reached her, he withdrew two weights and deftly attached the weight to each nipple. She held back a grunt at the added weight. This was going to be much harder than she thought.
He returned to his seat strolling as if he had not a care in the world. “Let’s try again,” he said as he eased himself back into the chair.
Taking a deep breath, she began to move again, her body at war against the new sensations. She willed herself to move and feel only the music. Eyes closed she began counting the steps in her head, carefully measuring her turns and biting her lip against the pain and pleasure assaulting her.
“Eyes on me sprite!” he called over the music.
Swallowing hard, her eyes snapped opened and locked with his as her body began to tremble. The intensity of the music began to crescendo, and she cried out as the speed of the vibrator matched, yet thankfully she caught herself before she made another mistake. Every muscle in her body tightened as she fought desperately to remain in control, but it was a loosing battle. He increased the tempo and the intensity of the vibrator yet again and her body nearly seized at the sensation. Thankfully she still hadn’t missed a beat, but she knew she couldn’t keep it up for long. Sweat covered her as her body wound tighter and tighter in the fast approaching climax. Her gaze pleaded with him for mercy, but he gave none.
“Keep going, sprite,” he said calmly watching the war of emotions play across her face as tears began to fill her eyes. Damn, but she was determined and damn if he wasn’t proud of her for trying. She’d made it much further than he’d anticipated. Many would have stumbled in a drunken sexual haze and climaxed many times over, but not his little sub. She still danced moving her hips seductively. Damn, but she was strong, and his cock was painfully solid for her. She was in a war of wills, and his would win. With an arch of an eyebrow and a tap of his finger, he adjusted the intensity and speed of the vibrator once more.
Her body jerked violently this time, and she knew she was going downhill fast. “Please!!” she cried out trying desperately to stay on step, her eyes awash with tears.
“Please what?” he replied taking note that she’d yet to use her safe word.
“May I come for you, Sir?” she blurted out in a rush. She was so close she feared that she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She was practically crawling out of her skin. “Please, please, please!”
“Mmm, you beg so sweetly, sprite,” he said. “And for that, you may come.” With a flick of his thumb, he switched the vibrator to maximum power.
She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide with shock and pleasure her body frozen with sensation as tiny tremors began to race through her. With a shrill cry of ecstasy, her body jerked violently sending her crashing to the floor as climax struck her like lightning. She lay at his feet her legs and floor soaked from her juices as her body trembled with tiny aftershocks. The music still played yet she couldn’t hear it, couldn’t feel it or anything else. Her body was completely numb and not her own. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, and she breathed erratically as if having completed a marathon.
Off in the distance, she heard the rustle of clothing, the clinging of a belt buckle, the teeth of a zipper. Suddenly the vibrator was gone, and strong hands grasped her thighs spreading them. Next, she felt a large hand grasp both of her wrists raising them high above her head followed by the cool smoothness of cloth being wrapped around them. One hand remained to pin her bound hands against the hardwood floor. Slowly her vision came back into focus, and the sight before her eyes caused her heart to speed up anew. There was her Sir, leaning over her, naked from the waist down and his stark white shirt unbuttoned, a wall of chest in perfect view. He looked like a hungry wolf ready to devour his prey.
Leaning down, he brushed a kiss against her ear before whispering to her. “What do you say little sprite?” he asked his warm breath fanning against her ear. She could feel the hot crown of his sex resting against the lips of her entrance.
Blinking away the fog she replied, “Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl,” came his reply as he kissed her ear once again. “And who’s pretty pussy is this?”
“Yours, Sir,” she whispered her body desperate to receive him.
“That’s right, mine,” he growled as he entered her slick swollen core in one long yet powerful thrust.
He filled her to the point of pain. He gave her no time to catch her breath as he began moving inside her as he held her in place for his pleasure. He growled as he took her with savage, pure raging lust. Eight days without tasting her. Eight days without hearing her cry out from his touch. Eight days without using her body for his pleasure bound helplessly to his bed. Eight days without seeing the dark storminess in her eyes when he whispered his ownership of her. Eight days and he intended to make up for every single one of them, starting here and now. He allowed his body to take over as he pounded into her, her hips meeting him thrust for thrust, driving him to the edge of madness.
Without warning, he lifted her up, and in one smooth motion, he was kneeling with her in his lap and her bound wrists around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist. One arm closed around her waist like a vice as his free hand grasped a handful of her long blue-black curls. She cried out as he drove up into her, his primal instincts now taking over. She clung to him tightly her long legs squeezing around his waist. Her nails dug into her back as he bit at her throat. Dear, God how she’d missed this, missed him. He was her heaven.
“Come with me,” he growled biting at her throat again. “Come with your Sir.”
“Yes, Si-” but before she could finish a hurricane of climax swept through them rocking them both down to their very souls.
He held her tight, his fingers biting into her scalp and waist as he emptied himself into her. She clung to him desperately her nails breaking the skin as her juices flowed around him, their cries making music all their own.
Her head dropped against his shoulder as she went limp in his arms. Using what little strength he had left he carefully lowered them to the floor. He remained atop her resting his weight on his elbows, but she would have none of it as she pulled him fully atop her, her face still buried against his neck. His body heat created a soothing contrast to the cool hardwood floor. Her nipples ached from the sensation of his chest against hers.
He caught the sniffle and shuddered that ran through her and held her tighter.
“What is it, sprite?” he asked his voice calm and soothing against her raw emotions.
She swallowed nervously cursing herself for being caught. She hated crying, and she hated for him to see her cry. She knew he expected an answer and wouldn’t relent until he got one. With a sigh of defeat, she gave him his answer.
“I missed you,” she whispered here eyes glued to his chest, her emotions raw and wildly uncontrolled.
Lifting her chin with his fingers, he brought her watery dark gaze to his. “I missed you too, sprite,” he whispered as he kissed her lips. “But I am here now, and I’m not leaving again without you.”
The corners of her mouth lifted as a smile spread across her face, and his heart nearly burst from his chest.
“Now let’s get you dressed, home and rested,” he said bruising a stray tear from her cheek. “And I still owe you a punishment, little girl. Don’t think I didn’t see that you were off by half a beat on your last twirl.”
Copyright 2016 by Anaïs Rosso.