Indulgence (128 page)

Before I know it, I’m gone. My mind is somewhere else,
waiting for the next touch, aching for it, and then silently rejoicing as it
materializes. Over and over he completes the dance between electricity and
hands until I thank the universe for the colors rippling through my mind and
the sound of wind chimes inside my head. I’m so wrapped up in it all that I
barely notice when the strokes become slower and farther apart, and I just let
myself go with it. When the wand goes silent, I’m sad until I feel his hands
touching me everywhere, my cheeks, my chin, my shoulders, my breasts as he
pulls downward to my nipples, down my belly and my back simultaneously, drawing
big circles on my ass, then down both legs, fronts and backs. I want to cry
out,
God – don’t stop!

And then he draws his hands up the insides of my legs until
he comes to the crease between legs and labia, and I shiver all over with
arousal. I had no idea I was aroused – I was concentrating so hard on the
sensations I was experiencing that I hadn’t noticed. I wiggle a little and he
murmurs, “Easy, baby. I’m taking care of you. Tell me what you want. Are you
ready for me?”

I try to answer but I can’t make my mouth move. I manage an
“Uh-huh.”

“Very good. You need this. You’ll be satisfied when I’m
finished with you, and so will I. You want to please me, don’t you?”

I force out another, “Uh-huh.” Everything’s so foggy that
I’m having trouble putting it all together, and I feel like I’m floating – then
I realize I
am
floating in those bindings.

“Good girl. You’re about to be rewarded. And so am I.” I
feel his fingers slide into my pussy and start to stroke, a fast and furious
stroking. Before I know what’s happening, I feel a warm gush and my whole body
stiffens. A wildness comes over me and I just want more, want to feel him
inside me, want to come over and over. If I could speak, I’d beg, but all I can
do is moan and whine. God, I want his length in me, to feel him fill me and
pound into me. Squirming in my bonds, I want desperately to press back against
him, but I’m neutralized and there’s no way for me to propel myself. I have to
trust him to do that.

And he does. With his hands turned palms up to grip my
thighs, Jaz steps up between my legs. I feel the head of his cock pressing into
my slit, and in one smooth, gentle move, he’s buried inside me. My every
thought is directed at that one place where he connects with me like no one
else, so erotic and deliciously painful in the first three seconds, and so
satisfying and thrilling in the next. His hands grip my thighs, then slide up
to my hips and pull me back against him. In the next movement, I’m sent forward
until just his tip is left in me, and then pulled back again. My hands ache to
touch him, but they’re bound tight. I’m completely at his mercy, and knowing
that turns me on in ways I’ve never been turned on. He can do whatever he likes
to me and I’ll take it. The sound of a slap registers a split second before I
feel it on my ass, my brain dopey and slow, and I cry out, not from pain, but
from sheer want.

Jaz Givens is commanding my body. And he’s stealing my
heart. Any reservations I might’ve had about him up to that point just fly away
with the swing of my body in the ropes. My brain struggles to hear the words
he’s murmuring to me. “Oh, yeah, Kimmie. God baby, I wanna fuck you all night.
Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know how hard I am for you? Kimmie,
oh god, Kimmie. I want you, babe. I want you always.”

It all rolls over me like thunder in the night, and all I
can manage is a strangled, “Come? Come? Please? Pleeeeeease?”

“Not yet, babe, not yet. God no, hang on.” And he stops,
buried in me up to his balls. I want to scream,
What are you doing? Why are
you stopping?
, and then it becomes clear when his fingers find my clit. He
leans over my back as he strokes, kissing here and there while his fingers work
magic, drawing sweet, tantalizing little strokes around and around to make me
shiver and moan, then backing off just enough to give me some relief before
starting again. He knows exactly how to capitalize on my sensitivity, and every
time he starts again, I’m more certain that the intensity will be my death. I’m
working at waiting, I really am, but my body is giving way rapidly and I know
it won’t be long before I can’t hold back anymore. Begging is what I want to do
more than anything, but I can’t; I can hear myself mumbling, my mouth unable to
form words, trying so hard to plead with him and wishing he could read my mind.
Before another thought comes, he whispers out, “Okay, Kimmie, anytime you’re
ready.”

My body convulses and I bounce on the ropes as the orgasm
swallows me like a black hole and won’t let go. I hear myself scream, “JEEEZUUUUUUSSSS,”
the first semi-intelligible thing I’ve said in twenty minutes. “Oh, please, oh,
please, oh, please,” I manage to pant out as he just keeps stroking, and a low
growl breaks from his throat.

“That’s it, baby. Get it all out.” When he finally stops, he
growls out, “I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. I hope
you want me like I want you because, if you do, you’re on fire right now.”
Drawing back, he plows into me.

Like an alien voice from a sci-fi movie, from my mouth
comes, “OhhhhhHHHHH GAWD!” and I give in to the friction of his shaft. I can’t
remember any other man ever making me feel this way, wanton and needy, begging
pathetically for more of his cock. Sweet lord, he’s all the man I can handle
and then some.

As he strokes into me, I hear him start to groan, in rhythm
with his strokes, “Oh. Yeah. Kimmie. Yeah, baby. I’m so damn hard. Uh-huh.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck, baby. Yeah. God, Kimmie. Kimmie, Kimmie, Kimmie . . .
shit, shit, shit . . . fuck, fuck . . . shhhhhhit. Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m,
I’m . . . OH YEAH!” Even through his condom, I can feel the heat of his cum,
all the while wishing I could know what it’s like to have it inside me, warm
and wet and comforting. He’s enjoying me, wanting me, letting me want him and
giving me what only he can give. This is bliss, and I float along on it as
surely as I float on these ropes. It’s magical, being here with him in this
moment, sharing our bodies and our hearts and our souls. Then he stills, and
the next words he speaks freeze the moment for me forever.

“You’re mine. I don’t want another woman – ever. Oh, Kimmie,
please . . .” His hands engulf my bound ones, slide up my arms, and tangle in
my hair, and he pulls my head back and whispers, “What did I do to deserve
you?”

All I remember from that point on is the sensation of my
body lowering and the ropes loosening. When I open my eyes, his are looking
straight into them and he smiles. I try to move my arms and, when I understand
that I can, I put a palm on his cheek. Reaching for it, he pulls it away from
his face with his own hand, turns it, and kisses my palm. Every sweet minute
from before is in his voice when he says, “Hi, beautiful. Welcome back.”

“Was I good?”

He kisses my forehead, a light little kiss that sends
shivers up my spine. “You were okay.”

I’m still trying to make sense out of everything. “What did
I need to do to be better? I only wanted to please you. I want you to be happy,
Jaz, really.” Without warning, I start to cry and I feel like a complete idiot.

Thank god, he blurts out, “Baby, baby! I was just joking! I
guess I shouldn’t make jokes when you’re just drifting back from the zone.”

I sniffle hard. “No. You should not.”

“I’m sorry.” He kisses my forehead again, this time more
purposefully, and his lips linger a bit longer. When he pulls back, he smiles.
“You were perfect. No, perfect plus. We’re very, very good together. You know
that, right?” I nod and start to cry again. “Oh, honey, don’t cry! It’s okay.
It was awesome –
you
were awesome. Just rest, okay? We’ll go in a little
bit.”

“Jaz?”

“Yes, darling girl?”

I start to sob again. “I want to sign the contract.”

And I cry even harder when he answers me. “Know what?” I
shake my head and peer up at him in time to see his eyes mist over. “I do too.”

*****

“You look like you’re feeling well,” I tell Candy when she
comes into the workshop on Tuesday.

“I am. For being preggers, I feel pretty good. But it’s
getting harder and harder to get up from kneeling in presentation pose.”

I’ve worked to try to get a good fit for her corset and I
finally came up with exactly the right thing. She looks adorable, even though
it’s not a traditional kind of thing. “So how is Mr. Augustino?”

“He’s well. And we’re getting married!”

“Really?” You finally said yes? Congratulations! So when are
you going to do this?”

A wistful look crosses her face. “Next Wednesday. It’s his
anniversary.”

“Anniversary?”

“Yeah. His and his late wife’s. He says it will honor their
relationship.”

I’m sort of appalled, I guess you’d say. “
Their
relationship? This is about the two of you.”

“Oh, I know. But if that makes him happy, I’m okay with it.
She’s dead. It’s not like she’s going to be in attendance or try to break us up
or anything.”

Hey, you know, if she’s okay with it, who am I to say? “So
are you planning to wear the corset to the wedding?”

“Oh, no! I’m wearing white!” she smiles with obvious pride.

Good lord. I don’t know what to say to that. “Okay, then,
let’s see if we can get this thing finished up for you.” I start working around
her. “Are you excited about the baby?”

“I sure am! I never thought I’d have children. You know,
after everything.” I guess I look pretty puzzled because she adds, “You know,
with all the abortions and everything.”

Uh-oh. This is none of my business. “I see.”

“I’ve had six or seven.” Six or seven? She’s not even sure
how many. Holy shit! Since I’m determined not to ask, I’m glad when she offers.
“I was an adult film star. And I did a lot of bareback. I tried to time it when
I wasn’t ovulating, but to do that
and
miss out on filming when I was
having my period didn’t always work. So I got pregnant several times.”

“But weren’t you on the pill?”

“No! I’m a good Catholic girl!”

Well, now, that’s the beatingest damn thing I’ve ever heard.
Porn and abortions, but no birth control. I’m trying to figure out the logic
and I realize – it’s pointless. There isn’t any. It’s not about religion. It’s
just, well, quirky, and it can’t be figured out. So I just manage, “Oh, well,
of course. No birth control. That would be so wrong.”

“I know, right? So I just had them removed.” She talks like
it’s a surgical procedure, which I suppose it is. “And my doctor told me after
the fifth one that I’d probably never be able to get pregnant. But I did. That
guy at the club who bred me has like eight or nine kids, so we knew he could
get the job done.” And I realize: She’s talking about Blaze. He and his sub
have a houseful. At least two of them belong to other subs who didn’t want them
once he got them pregnant, and he and his sub – she’s actually his wife as well
– are raising them as theirs. It’s a crazy mess that, oddly, seems to work for
them.

About this time, I think to ask, “Boy or girl?”

“At my last ultrasound, they said it was a girl. But
sometimes they’re wrong, you know.” A sad look crosses her face. “He really
wanted a boy.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it, er, her, as long as
she’s healthy.”

“I hope so. But he already has a daughter.”

“Oh? How old is she?”

She laughs. “She’s forty-six.”

I should’ve seen that coming. His daughter is about twenty
years older than the girl he’s getting ready to marry. Holy shit. I hope the
old bastard takes his vitamins, that’s all I’ve got to say.

As she’s leaving, Candy smiles at me and asks, “Can I hug
you?” I open my arms and she walks right into them, wrapping hers around my
neck. “Thank you, Kimberly.”

“For what?”

“For letting me talk. I don’t have anyone my age to talk
to.” She hugs me really tight and it’s hard to breathe. “I know you’re older
than me, but you’re nice to talk to.”

In an instant, I’m sorry for this girl. She’s barely in her
twenties and getting ready to marry a man in his seventies. Yes, he’s filthy
rich and yes, he’s good to her, but she’s got to be horribly lonely. I’m glad I
can lend her an ear while she’s here. The whole situation is strange, but she’s
a good person. “Any time, Candy.”

“Thanks. Bye. Next time I’ll bring a copy of my ultrasound
so you can see her!”

“I’d love that. See you soon!” As I’m speaking, she closes
the door and disappears. I pick up my phone and send a quick text:
Busy? I
miss your voice.

My phone rings almost instantly. “I miss your voice too. You
okay?”

I sigh as I drop into my chair. “Yeah. I just had a client
who, well, she’s having a baby with her Dom.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And she’s barely in her twenties and he’s in his
seventies.”

I hear him sigh too. “Well, nice to know he’s still ‘got
it.’”

“Nope. Had her bred by a guy at the club.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Wow.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, then he asks, “So do
you want more kids?”

“God no! I’m too old.”

“You are not . . .”

“Yes. I am. I had my last period five years ago. And my son
is grown. So no. If that’s something you really wanted, I wish you’d . . .”

“God no!” He starts to laugh. “I was terrified you’d say yes
just a minute ago! I’ve got Melissa. She’s all I need. And I’m hoping someday
she’ll have a partner who wants a child and I’ll have a grandchild. Or two. And
hopefully that’s a few years down the road, seeing as how she’s not in a
relationship now.”

“She doing okay?”

He sighs again. “Yeah, I guess. She has no idea why Adelaide
is being such a bitch. She thinks Addie’s involved with another girl and she’s
being bitchy to try to deflect from what she’s doing. I told her she just needs
to get out of a poisonous relationship.”