Indulgence (134 page)

“Oh, god.” I can barely speak. My tongue seems thick and I
can’t catch my breath. “Oh, god, Master, I want you to lick me, and then I want
you to fuck me. Please?”

“Very good. I can probably accommodate you.” Just watching
him slip his briefs down crazes me, and when he adds an aggressive stroking of
his cock, I almost come undone. I’ve never come just from the sight of pure
sex, but I’m so damn aroused that I’m not sure I can control myself anymore.
Good thing my hands are tied. No telling what I might do if they were free. He
interrupts my thoughts with a slow smile. “Do you have any idea what kinds of
things I’d like to do to you?”

My voice is strained when I try to answer. “I hope I have
some ideas, but you can do whatever you want with me, Master. I’m yours.”

His eyes soften and a small smile turns up the corners of
his mouth. “You belong to me, sub. I want to drive you wild with my fingers and
my tongue and my cock. I can make you scream and shake, and I plan to. It’s all
I can do to keep my hands off your tits. God, you’re gorgeous, breathing heavy
like that, squirming and wiggling. Did you know I can see your clit throbbing?”
Shaking my head, I bite my lip and wait. “I can. And your pussy’s almost
dripping. You’re so damn wet that I could fuck you right now, just slide right
in. But I want to watch you come undone first.” His cock bobs with its own
pulse when he releases it so he can crawl deliberately toward me on the bed,
looking like a tiger stalking his prey. “Spread ‘em,” he snaps, slapping the
insides of my thighs. On his knees between my legs, he puts a hand behind each
of my knees and forces them up toward my chest, and the thought that I’m spread
wide open for him makes me cry out. A low snicker rolls through his chest just
before he buries his face in my pinkness.

“Oh, gawwddddd . . .” I’m so wound up that the touch of his
tongue on my nub makes my temples pound. “God, Master, oh god.” There’s that
chuckle again, and it vibrates against my skin as he just keeps working my
nerve endings into a frenzy. “Oh, Master, oh god. Please, Sir, please? Oh,
please? Oh, god, oh, may I come, Master? Please, may I come?”

Stopping for a split second, he replies, “Any time you want.
And know that I won’t stop.”

My god, he’ll drive me insane, I just know it. I’m trying to
hold off, and I can’t, I just can’t. My voice sounds like it’s coming from
somewhere else when I hear myself crying out, “Nooooo! Oh, god, nooooo. Oh,
god, oh, god. Oh, I’m, I’m, oh, please, Sir? Oh, god.” Without any further
warning, the orgasm slams into me and I see stars and hear bells. My whole body
goes rigid, shaking and knotting, and I scream into the silence of the bedroom
as Jaz never even slows. “Oh, god, Master, please? Please stop, please? Oh,
god, oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh fuck.” I’m hitting critical mass, my hips
bucking so hard that I’m shaking the bed, but Jaz holds them down and keeps
going.

I fight for my hands. If they were free, I’d push him away,
but they’re tied fast, and I feel the second one building in my belly. This is
one I’m not sure I’ll survive. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me and he
just keeps going while I writhe in ecstatic misery until I can’t process it
anymore. And when that misery grows and expands the way I know it will, there’s
a moment there when I think about calling my safeword, but I don’t. In the next
second, I know why.

Every nerve ending in my body carries heightened sensation
from the first orgasm, and when this one hits, it slams into me like a wrecking
ball. It’s a fight to stay conscious, and I’m gasping when Jaz slows his
strokes. I can feel my mind slipping away and I’m barely aware when he crawls
up between my legs and drives his manhood straight into me with no hesitation.
I feel him; I know that’s what he’s doing. But my body feels like it’s a
million miles away as I float on the endorphins his skill has released for me.
My eyes are closed and I’m sure if I opened them, I’d see clouds and sunshine
and maybe even angels. There’s a buzzing in my ears, and a sensation’s
expanding in my pelvis that I welcome and embrace. The vaginal orgasm hits
hard, and the deep, powerful rhythms of the muscles buried in my channel pull
my already-overloaded brain farther out into subspace. I can feel my body
jerking as it convulses and I don’t care. It’s so amazing and powerful that I
release any control I was fighting for and let go, let him take my body where
it needs to go.

This is bliss. A big fur-lined parka of warmth and peace
surrounds me and I don’t want to be anywhere with anyone else. His hands on me
seem to impart some kind of energy to me, and I want him to touch me all over,
every inch of my skin, until I can’t tell where I end and he begins. His voice
seems far away when I hear him cry out, “Oh, fuck, baby! Yessssss, Kimmie, yes.
Yes, yes, yes, precious. Oh, god.” And then he stops.

Time stops. I can’t move, and even if I could, I don’t want
to. Trying to make sense of everything, I feel his arms around me, holding me
tight, and it occurs to me that my hands are free. When I try to wrap my arms
around him, they’re limp – my whole body’s limp. His lips fall on mine, but I
can’t kiss him back. All I can do is lie there in his arms and, frankly, that’s
all I want to do. He kisses my forehead, my temples, my eyelids, my nose, my
lips, my chin, and then tweaks one of my nipples with his fingers. That gets a
response out of me because I shiver like I’m cold, and I hear him chuckle. His
voice is sweet and warm when he sing-songs, “Kiiii-mmie. Kimmie, baby, wake up.
Hey, honey, come on back to me.” I grunt and shake my head, and the next
sensation that hits me is his lips around one of my nipples. I groan and he
laughs. “Come on, girl. I’m here waiting for you, baby. Just snuggle up.”

When I finally force my eyes open, I’m still in Jaz’s arms,
and he’s sound asleep. His breathing is silent, and there’s a calm look on his
face that reminds me of the face of a sleeping child. I rouse a little and his
arms tighten around me, followed by his eyes blinking open and a huge smile
splitting his face. “Hey, little one! I was starting to get a little concerned
about you.”

“Ah, I’m okay.” I yawn – loudly – right in his face and he
really laughs. “Were you trying to kill me?”

“Are you dead?” he snickers.

“No.”

“Then no, obviously I wasn’t trying to kill you. You were,
after all, tied to the head of the bed. If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d be
dead now, right?” He’s still laughing.

“I guess.” I try to make sense of everything. “Was I good?”

He shakes his head in frustration. “Why do you always ask me
that? You were more than good. You were unbelievable. Do you feel okay? You
were really gone.”

“Yeah. I’m fine, I think.” Things are slowly coming together
for me and I’m checking all of my limbs to make sure they still work as the fog
starts to lift. “Jaz?”

“Um-hmmm, babe.”

“I love you.” When I manage to get a look at his face, I’m
shocked.

His eyes are gleaming with unshed tears when he murmurs,
“Baby, I love you too. I’m so glad we found each other. I can’t imagine being
without you.”

“I can’t imagine being without you either. But I want to
sleep.”

He grins and pinches the end of my nose. “Sleep. You earned
it. And Kimmie?”

“Yes, Master?”

“I’ll be thankful that you’re mine every day for the rest of
my life. I won’t ever take you for granted.”

“I won’t ever take
you
for granted either.” I put my
hands on his cheeks and look into his eyes. “You’re the greatest gift I’ve ever
been given.” One of his hands clasps mine and drags it to his lips so he can
kiss my palm. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank you. Sleep, precious.” One of his hands rises and
rests on my head, and he drags his fingers through my hair absentmindedly as he
breathes into my crown. As I drift to sleep, I hear him whisper, “You’re
everything to me, Kimmie. Everything.” I don’t know if I manage to get a smile
to show on the outside, but I’m definitely smiling on the inside.

*****

We have a long talk and decide that we’ll try to go to the
club every Thursday night. Being there has been important for us, at least for
me, for a long time. Now my position is different. I have a permanent Dominant,
so other members now have to show me a different kind of respect, especially
the unattached Doms. One of the things we discuss is the fact that, because of
the performance areas and the furnishings, there are opportunities to explore
things there that we can’t at home. Some day we might have room for a St.
Andrew’s cross, or a bondage table, or a whipping horse, but right now, that’s
not an option. We also have nowhere for him to practice suspension with me, and
the club can offer us that. It just makes sense. Along with all of that, it
cements our union in the eyes of the kink community here, and that’s one thing
we both want.

I warned him that I might be running late – my last client
had to come after work and she’s very, very hard to fit – so he knew that six
might be impossible for me to make. When I pull into the parking lot of the
club and stroll into the building with my backpack in hand, his car is already
here, and my heart gives a little jump knowing that he’s going to be just
inside, waiting for me.

It takes me almost a minute for my eyes to adjust to the
darkness inside, and when they finally do, I do a sweep around the room for
Jaz. And I have one of those red-letter, white-hot rage, what-the-fuck moments.

Jaz is sitting on a sofa across the room with a blond, and
I’m not talking about your average blond. I’m talking about a bombshell. She
looks to be barely over thirty, and not only do I see red, but I have
flashbacks of Phil and all the shit he put me through. I stand there, not quite
sure what to do or say, and I’m shocked when he turns, looks at me, and then
goes right back to talking with her.

A shrieking sets up in my brain and I feel like the top of
my head is going to blow off. I know he can hear me stomping across the room
toward him, and yet he never turns to look. When I’m finally standing
stock-still at the end of the sofa, I wait, but he
still
doesn’t turn to
look at me. I finally clear my throat and force out, “Aaaa-hemmmm. Jaz?”

He turns and smiles, a passive smile that makes my blood
boil. “Submissive?”

I know my voice is shaky when I blurt out, “Would you like
to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Rising from the sofa, he takes the two steps to me and
stands right in front of me, looking down into my flaming face. There’s no
anger or malice in his voice when he says, “You’ll not speak to your master
that way, submissive. Go to the locker room, dress out, and wait for me at the
bar.”

My eyes go so wide that I’m pretty sure my eyelids
completely disappear. “What the fuck?”

His next words are a little more forceful and dispassionate.
“Submissive, you’ll not speak to your master that way. One more disrespectful
address and you’ll suffer punishment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, Master.” I just stare at him as, without a
smile or any hint of an expression, he turns and sits back down to resume his
conversation with the blond.

It takes me about thirty seconds to process what’s just
happened, and I turn on my heel and head for the dressing room. More than
following his directions and dressing out, I really want to just walk back out,
get in my car, and drive away. I have three-quarters of a tank of gas, and I
wonder how far I could get before I just run out.

When the bag’s unzipped, I find what he packed for me that
morning: an emerald green lace shelf bra with a matching flounced garter belt.
No panties. That seems to be his thing. And a pair of silver stiletto sandals,
strappy and sexy. He even found green stockings to go with the outfit. If I
weren’t so fucking furious, I’d be impressed, but it’s all lost on me at the
moment.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that in looking over that
contract, I never saw anything allowing more than one submissive, but I never
saw anything forbidding it either, and my heart sinks. Is that what he’s up to?
Fifteen minutes earlier, I’d been the happiest woman in Chicago. Now, I’m just
trying to figure out how to save face and get through the evening as my hopes
and dreams are crushed.

Numb and shaking, I make my way out to the bar. I can see
Jaz and the blond still across the room. He’s pretty still, but she’s animated
and smiling. It’s taking all I have to sit there when I feel a presence beside
me.

Well fuck me. It’s Angus.

“Hello, slut. What are you looking for tonight?”

“Hello to you too, asshole.”

His eyes pop open wide and he jerks back. “Well, well, well!
For somebody who’s begged me to fuck her senseless and use her like a common
whore, you’re full of piss and vinegar tonight.”

“Yeah, well, sorry for your luck, but I have a Dominant.”

“Yeah, and looks like he’s got himself some hot ass
tonight,” Angus says with a belly laugh. I can feel my face burning and I’m
working to keep the tears at bay. It takes me by surprise when he reaches over,
pinches my nipple, and says, “I think you’re really going to need a fucking
tonight.”

“Stop, Angus,” I manage to snort out and push his hand away.

He’s laughing outright at me now. “You weren’t saying,
‘Stop, Angus!’ a bit ago, now were you?” Before I can move away, he grabs the
back of my neck and smashes his lips against mine. I thrash around to find
something, anything, to grab hold of. Stationary, I’ll pull away from him;
moveable, I’ll smash him in the back of the head with it. I’m clawing around
when I hear this odd sound against my lips and open my eyes to see his bulging
back at me. His face pulls away from mine and I see a hand around his throat.

Then that voice like molten metal says, “Keep your hands off
my submissive.” By now, Angus’s face is blood red and he’s grappling at the
hand around his neck when it just tidily sets him on a bar stool and turns
loose. I watch in horror as he immediately takes a swing, but a neat
upward-bound fist knocks him right off the stool and on his ass. When I turn,
Jaz’s eyes are glowing at me and he grips my upper arm. “You okay?”