Nobody's Hero (12 page)

“Yes, Master. Thank you.” That he had thought
about her comfort pleased her, too. He wasn’t only concerned about
what he would gain from their scene. She’d seen some postings
online from some egomaniacal Masters who got into humiliating their
slaves and treating them like objects, but Master Adam didn’t seem
that way at all.

A few moments later, he knelt behind her
again and dropped several rope bundles onto the mat beside her
thigh. She resisted the urge to turn and look at them, but red and
blue ones were visible out of the corner of her eye.

“Hold your hair up out of the way.” Once
again, he sounded annoyed about her hair, just as he had been at
Marc’s house. Maybe she needed to consider cutting it. Only now she
would have to ask for Master Adam’s permission. Her hair was his,
too.

She reached up to do as he instructed, and he
surprised her by reaching around in front of her, holding a black
leather collar lined with sheepskin fur. A dog collar? She blushed
at being treated like a pet, but she supposed that’s what she was
now. His toy. His pet.

His kitten.

But she didn’t want him to treat her like a
baby anything. She’d been trying to get him to see her as a woman
all this time and now she was just doing whatever he told her, like
a good little kitten. A child.

He placed the collar around her neck. “This
is a playtime collar. The D-rings on it can be useful for bondage,
and the collar is a reminder to you that you’re my pet. My
plaything.” His hands wrapped around her collar, fingers on either
side sliding inside and pulling it away from her skin.

“That isn’t too tight, is it?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good.” His hands slid to her shoulders and
he eased the bra straps down her arms, his callused hands gently
abrading her skin. He tossed the scrap of lace aside. She felt
exposed and vulnerable until Adam’s hands reached around her again,
so warm against her cool skin.

“I can’t keep my fucking hands off your
tits.”

Karla smiled at his earthy language. A sense
of power came over her. Master Adam saw her as a woman at last. Her
nipples reached out to greet the pads of his palms.

He tugged her hair from her grip and let it
cascade over her shoulders and back. “I also love touching your
hair, too.”

A burst of pride welled up inside her. He
liked her hair?

Then his fingers splayed out, his palms
covering her ears as his fingertips brushed upward across cheeks
and into her hairline. He raked his fingertips over her scalp,
massaging her with a firm, gentle touch. The muscles in her legs
and back gave out; she slumped against his body for support.

He chuckled.

Her clit throbbed as he continued his sensual
massage of her scalp. Who knew this was an erogenous zone for
her?

Master Adam.

She moaned.

“That’s right, kitten. Surrender to your
Master, completely.”

I did that long ago, Sir.

After several more minutes, he began
finger-combing her curls, from her scalp to the ends of her
tresses. He fanned the long strands over her shoulders and breasts.
She continued to lean against him, as if she could have moved if
she’d wanted to. Why did she always melt like butter on a stove
when he touched her?

“Clasp your hands behind your lower back,
just above your ass.”

The abrupt command sent her erotic
nerve-endings back on full alert. She straightened her back yet
again and did his bidding.

He released her and picked up a red-dyed
bundle of rope, unwrapping it and finding the ends. She lifted her
butt off her heels and knelt taller for him, her breasts jutting
out, erect and proud. She watched in the mirror as he shook out the
strands of red rope, preparing for the binding to begin, she
thought.

Instead, he took the strands, threading them
between his fingers, and rubbed the cold rope and his warm hands
over her bare breasts. The sensual feel of the rope, along with the
pressure of his hands, elicited a moan from deep within her throat.
This was so different from the demonstration at Marc’s house. For
one, her breasts were bare this time. But he seemed to be spending
so much more time preparing her.

“That’s right, kitten. Embrace the rope.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered. Her heartbeat
fluttered. Waiting. Wanting. Needing.

“Breathe, baby.” Master Adam’s voice reminded
her of the need for oxygen. She took a deep, relaxing breath. He
continued to rub the rope over her breasts, abdomen, mons, even
pressing it against her thong-covered clit and pussy, causing a
delicious friction there that sent heat radiating throughout her
body. Her breath hitched as her nipples became even more engorged.
The rope and his hands moved up her arms leaving a trail of
gooseflesh in their path. She fought to maintain her kneeling
position, but the sensory overload left her wanting to puddle at
his feet.

“Breathe, kitten.”

She did as he commanded. His hands returned
the rope to her breasts and her breath caught when he brushed the
rope across her sensitive nipples. No longer able to fight gravity,
she sagged against him, her head lolling to the side. His body
surrounded her and enfolded her. His lips kissed the curve of her
neck, then nipped at the flesh there. She caught her lower lip
between her teeth and panted.
Now
. She wanted him to touch
her now.

“Stay.”

How could she do anything else?

He rose, and she planted her butt against her
heels for support. She watched the rope dance in his hands as he
prepared it for the binding to come. Her eyelids drifted shut. Of a
sudden, the rope lashed her torso, licking repeatedly at her tender
nipples. She opened her mouth to scream only to realize she wasn’t
experiencing pain, just surprise. He walked in a circle around her
continually flogging her with the ends of the rope—touching every
exposed area, shoulders, breasts, arms, thighs, hands, butt. The
nerves rose to the surface to welcome the sensual lash of the
rope.

Just as suddenly, he stopped and knelt behind
her again, separating her hair into two shanks and letting one fall
over each shoulder to cover her breasts. Apparently, this time, he
wasn’t going to bind it in the hair corset as he had at Marc’s
house.

“Bend your elbows behind your lower back at
ninety-degree angles and grab the opposite elbows with your hands.
Your inner wrists need to be flush against your forearms.”

Karla hoped she did everything he’d ordered
in his list of rapid-fire commands. Where did he want her elbows,
hands, and wrists? Had she done it right?

“Good girl.”

Her body warmed at his praise. Her breasts
jutted out even further in front of her, making them seem larger
than they were.

“If you feel any tingling, especially in your
arms, and eventually your legs, I want you to tell me immediately.
Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He tied her forearms together, midway between
her wrist and elbow, and with bone-melting movements, Master Adam’s
hands wrapped, twisted, and threaded the rope with quick precision
around her upper arms. She pictured countless scenes of his club
demonstrations where he created what looked like a box out of the
model’s arms, wrists, and hands. Occasionally, he tugged at her
arms and the ropes, checking for tightness or comfort, maybe
both.

She’d watched Adam bind Mistress Grant many
times in demonstrations for other Doms wanting to learn the art.
Those demonstrations had been so torturous for Karla that sometimes
she’d had to turn her attention to other scenes happening in the
club’s great room, because watching him touch someone else so
intimately hurt too badly to watch.

Of course, he’d been much more intimate doing
Shibari with Karla than he’d ever been with Mistress Grant. Tonight
he wasn’t performing for anyone but the two of them, wasn’t
touching anyone but her. She smiled.

Soon he had her upper arms and torso tightly
secured by the rope, her arms pressed snugly against her sides. She
tested the bindings to see how much movement she still had in her
arms and realized there was very little give.

“Don’t move, unless you need to flex your
hands or fingers. Don’t shift your body. The ropes will be placed
on your torso, hips, and arms in very precise ways so that, when I
suspend you, I won’t put a strain on your arms.”

Suspend? She remembered the ring hanging
above her.
Oh, my!
His explanation made sense. She didn’t
feel any sense of panic, though. She trusted Master Adam not to
harm her. He’d been her guardian and protector in many ways since
she was sixteen.

Again, he worked in rapid motion behind her
back. She wondered if there was a name for this design but knew if
he told her the Japanese word, she’d forget it anyway. He reached
around in front of her and threaded a blue rope above and below her
breasts, adjusting the tension and attaching these ropes to the red
ones on her arms. Her breasts were squeezed between the ropes, but
not so tightly they hurt. He pressed a kiss against her right
shoulder and she shivered with need.

Rather than analyze what he was doing, she
closed her eyes and surrendered to the ropes and Master Adam’s
hands once more, letting him push and pull the rope through the
bindings, moving her torso left and right, forward and back, while
he manipulated her body as if she were a rag doll. Her head fell
forward as she lost the ability to hold it upright. Her loose hair
cascaded over her breasts and swung in the air in front of her as
he bound her. Time ceased, and Karla felt as if she were levitating
off the floor, floating above her body.

Free.

When Master Adam took a shank of her hair and
slowly pulled her head back, her eyes fluttered open to find
herself staring upside-down into his mint-green eyes. “I’ve never
worked with anyone so responsive to the rope, kitten.” He
smiled.

That sounded like a good thing. She smiled,
feeling half drunk, before her gaze settled on his lips. All she
wanted was to feel them on her—anywhere. His smile faded. “Up you
go, pet.”

His strong hands gripped her tightly bound
upper arms and lifted her to her feet. He walked around to stand in
front of her and stared down at her breasts, which had swollen and
turned red between the rope bindings. When Master Adam bent to
brush his tongue over one of her protruding nipples, she gasped at
the hyper-sensitivity.

“Oh, my God!”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered, but you know
better how to address me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m a
little…disoriented.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d gone
into subspace.”

She’d heard Angie talk about the time her
mind and body separated when the abusive Dom beat her. “I thought
you have to be in lots of pain to go into subspace.”

“No, it can happen anytime a sub or slave so
completely surrenders and is able to move outside her conscious
mind. It’s like going into a trance—or being stoned.”

She smiled. “I felt that, Master. I floated.
Time disappeared.”

He chuckled and stroked her cheek. “Thank
you, kitten, for your sweet surrender. Those are the sweetest words
a D—a Master can hear.”

Master Adam was pleased, which pleased her.
She’d been a good slave for him. All she wanted was to be what he
wanted. To give him herself.

“Time to heighten your senses even more.”

She felt herself grow wet at the threat in
his words—or was it promise? She bowed her head. “Thank you,
Sir.”

He reached out and squeezed her tender
nipples until they were hard and even more sensitive, which didn’t
seem possible a moment ago. From the right pocket of his leathers,
he pulled out a chain with clamps on either end. Master Adam took
her left breast in his cupped hand and bent down to place her erect
nipple between his lips. His teeth bit down gently and she sucked
in a sharp breath, feeling as if her knees would collapse under
her.

He stood tall again. “Perfect.” Still cupping
her breast, he took the clamp with his other hand and placed her
nipple between the pincher-like ends, then slid a tiny ring along
the shaft closer to her nipple, causing the pinchers to squeeze
tighter and tighter onto her nipple. “Tell me when it’s too
tight.”

She tried to hold out as long as she could to
show she could be a good slave and take what her Master meted out,
but when she could stand it no longer, she screamed, “Now!” Rather
than stop, he pushed the ring just a little further sending a
raging fire of pain burning through her nipple, until her knees
buckled. He grabbed her arms to steady her, chuckling.

Sadist.

“How do you address me?”

Oh, shit.
She hadn’t called him a
sadist to his face, had she? Then she remembered what she’d
forgotten when she’d tried to get him to stop squeezing her nip.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”

How was she supposed to remember protocols
when he did such mind-blowing things to her body? Would addressing
him as Sir ever become a natural response for her? When he went to
attach the other clamp to her right nipple, Karla instinctively
moved away from him.

“Do. Not. Move.”

Ka-thunk
. Her stomach dropped into her
pelvis at his stern words, which left her feeling even more
skittish. He bent down and bit her nipple, causing it to double in
size, and placed the other clamp over it and began to tighten the
pinchers. She decided not to let the pain go beyond her tolerance
level this time and quickly shouted, “Now, Sir!” But he continued
to adjust it to about the same tension as the other.
The pain!
Oh, God!
Then she realized he hadn’t asked her this time to
tell him when it hurt too much.

Karla’s breaths came in shallow hisses as the
burning pain in both her nipples consumed her mind. She looked down
at her squashed nipples and wondered how she’d be able to stand it
much longer. She took a deeper breath, hoping it would relax her.
The pain receded to a tolerable level and she was able to breathe
normally again.