Next Time 5

I don't switch. Seriously. I never switch. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the kind of woman who always has to be on top. I certainly enjoy being taken on occasion, but I just don't -- ever -- let myself be topped. So why the hell was I naked and kneeling in his bedroom? He had asked and it just seemed reasonable at the time. This will teach me to agree to things while still basking in the afterglow.

It's not that I don't trust him. I actually do, crazy as that seems. I never trust people this much. I didn't know him all that well, but I knew he wouldn't make me do anything I didn't really want to do and I really did trust him to make this a good experience. So, why was I freaking out? It's not like it hadn't been a good evening so far. We went out, had some dinner, took a stroll down by the waterfront and generally had a really good time.

Then he'd asked. Last time we were together he let me run wild. I got to be my full on domme self and he was the perfect submissive. He was able to let go and give me complete control, complete trust. It was amazing. That he wanted me to return the favor was totally reasonable. And it wasn't even that I was worried about the pain. In fact, I was rather looking forward to that. So what the hell was I so worried about.

It was during that thought that he walked into the room. My face must have betrayed my inner monologue because he asked, "You having second thoughts?"

"You could say that," I sheepishly said into the floor. I looked up at him. He was leaning against the door frame, the light from the hall silhouetting the luscious curve of his body. Damn, I wanted him, wanted to please him. Stupid hormones.

He crossed his arms and sighed softly, "If you're really uncomfortable we don't have to do this. It's not any fun if you don't enjoy it."

"No, I want to," I said half to myself. "I'm just scared."

"Of me?" he asked carefully.

"Of me." Where had that come from? "I don't know...I...ugg" I grumbled, rather disgusted with myself.

He crossed over to me and sunk cross-legged to the floor. He looked at me and just waited patiently, silently asking me to elaborate. Great. If I don't know what I think how am I supposed to explain it to him?

After a good while of racking my brain, trying to figure out why it was rebelling, I shrugged and said, "I'm afraid of what I might find down the rabbit hole."

He reached callused fingers to stroke my cheek, "I'll catch you."

"Promise?" I asked tentatively.

"I will never let you fall."

And something in my brain broke and I trusted him utterly. In that moment I knew I would let him do anything. That realization must have reflected in my face because, without a word, he stood up and moved behind me. Still staring at the floor, I heard him open a drawer and rummage about. The drawer closed and I heard soft feet on the carpet coming back to me.

"Stand. Arms at your sides." I did.

I felt cool, slick fabric being drawn across my back. My breath caught in my throat as dark silk covered my eyes, shutting out the light. It must have been a scarf, because he used the long ends to tie my hair up off my back.

His hands moved to gently caress my bare neck. His breath tickled as he planted the softest of kisses along my shoulder. One hand slid around my waist to rest beneath my breasts while the other traced its way down my back to cup my derriere. There, his fingers dug in hard, painfully so, while the other hand held me still -- all while still giving my neck the softest of butterfly kisses. A slow warmth crept through me, flushing from my cheeks to my thighs.

He moved from me and I heard a small metallic sound. I stood as still as I could, trying not to betray just how aroused I already was. I could feel him in front of me, but he said nothing. My cheeks burned hotter knowing that he must be there, staring at me as my every though reflected in my face and body.

After some time, a hand violently tweaked one nipple and then the other. I gasped in pain. A hand cupped a breast, kneading gently, and suddenly a clamp painfully squeezed one nipple and then the other. I tried not to grimace. How many times had I done just this to someone else? Somewhere a bottom was laughing at me. My nipples screamed as small weights were attached.

As I struggled to catch my breath he moved behind me and grabbed my wrists, bringing them together in the small of my back. I felt them being strapped into heavy leather cuffs. There would be no soft fur lining for me today. I liked it.

A hand grasped me hard around the back of my neck and roughly turned me around. A well placed shove sent me sprawling face first onto the bed. His hands positioned me so that I was bent ninety degrees at the waist, my head and torso resting on the bed, but my legs and hips hanging off the edge, ass in the air. This felt oddly familiar -- once again, somewhere a bottom was laughing.

With a swish of air, a smack fell on my ass. I gasped as the force if it pressed my clamped nipples painfully into the bed. I wriggled and shifted, finally arching my back out to keep my nipples off the bed.

A hand pressed down on my back, forcing my chest into the bed. His voiced hissed in my ear, "You will take your pain and you will like it!"

I began to shudder uncontrollably. He gave me a few moments to regain composure before another heavy blow fell. I struggled and failed to let my thighs take the weight of it. Then another smack landed, and another. Each blow forcing small gasps and cries out of my throat. Soon the blows fell like rain. I felt like my entire body was on fire. Beyond thought, I screamed and cried and begged. And as suddenly as they began, the blows stopped.

His hand made soothing caresses across the red and burning flesh of my bottom as he made quiet assurances. A hand moved to stroke my back and he laid small kisses up my spine. His other hand moved to lower things. His fingers parted my folds, letting the wetness gush out and irrevocably betraying my arousal. I shuddered and gasped as his fingers found my clit, massaging with maddening gentleness. I moaned helplessly as his fingers pushed into me. Of their own accord my hips pushed outward, demanding more. This earned me another slap on the ass.

Awash in sensation, I found myself standing up again with no idea how I got that way. I felt fingers in my hair and the blindfold fell away. He stood just inches before me, terrifying and beautiful. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard, forcing my grateful mouth open to him. His kiss seared into me, driving the air from my lungs and claiming me utterly. My head spun as he broke away and I struggled to remain upright.

He moved away again and I hear that drawer open. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being drawn from a sheath. I began to quiver and fought for each breath. He walked in front of me and crossed his arms. In his right hand he held a small and wickedly sharp dagger. I tried in vain to stop shaking.

He moved towards me until he stood mere inches away. He twisted the dagger in the air before me, showing me its edge. "Do you trust me?"

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly gone dry. I looked into his eyes and saw danger. I should have been afraid and I was, but I was also as wet as I had ever been. I nodded.

"Stand very, very still." He moved closer still and ran the flat of the blade across the upper swell of a breast, as if shaving it. The blade was cold and I struggled to keep myself from moving. If I faltered the blade would cut me, but not if I stood perfectly still.

An utterly wicked smile spread across his lips and while one hand held the blade to my chest, the other moved between my legs. My pulse thundered in my ears as his fingers moved within me. It took every ounce of concentration I possessed to keep myself from bucking against him. All the while his eyes held mine in the most intimate grip of all. Tears streamed down my face as my climax approached. I screamed as the orgasm ripped through me. It felt as if the whole world had shifted.

When my senses returned, the knife was gone but a tiny red line across my breast wept a single drop of blood. He gently removed the nipple clamps and a grimaced as the blood flowed back into them. Then he reached behind me and released my wrists from their cuffs. He cupped my face in his hands and laid his forehead against mine. "Thank-you," he whispered.

As my knees finally gave out I reached for him. He held me hard as my body was wracked with uncontrollable sobs. I cried for what felt like hours, and then there was nothing left. I was clean. Somewhere a bottom was smiling at me.