Best Bondage Erotica 2014 (8 page)

Mason stepped close to me, crowding my personal space. I froze. He smiled down at me. His brown eyes were amused; his thin but kissable lips followed the sentiment. “Would you like me to help you?”

I was nude but for a pair of lavender lace panties and some argyle kneesocks, of all things. We were supposed to just go out and grab a cheesesteak or pizza for dinner. I was supposed to be throwing on some clothes. Instead I'd dove into the bag of castoffs his mother had given me. She was a foot shorter and twenty-five pounds lighter than me. Why she insisted on giving me her clothing rejects was beyond me. Why I always insisted on torturing myself by trying them on was even more baffling.

He was waiting. Watching me. I continued to wriggle like a fish on a hook even as he calmly observed.

He put his hand on my belly. Spread his fingers wide. I stilled. “Robin. Would you like me to help you?” he asked once more.

I sucked in a breath, feeling his fingers on my skin and the stiffening of my nipples, which he noted with a quick glance and a small smile.

“I...” Why wasn't I saying yes? “She's so freakishly skinny,” I said by way of answer.

He nodded. “My mother is petite.”

“Why does she give me her clothes?” I watched him watching
me, and my heart thumped in my chest. A caged thing that wanted to be set free.

“I have no idea.” He reached up and pinched my nipple between his fingertips. Fiery lust blazed through me.

I wanted to touch him. To be touched. So I said, “Yes, please help me out.”

His eyebrow went up, and a smirk played across his lips. He bent, eyes still on mine, and sucked my other nipple into the damp heat of his mouth. He sucked hard, and I felt the echo of that pleasurable draw on my flesh as far down as my cunt.

Mason had forgotten dinner. I could tell by the look in his eyes. I'd seen that look before, when he wielded a paddle, or just his bare hand, or even a crop. My stomach dropped like I was falling, my breath quick in my throat.

“Please,” I said. But even I wasn't so convinced.

He drew a finger down the middle of me from chest to mound, then stopped to cup my pussy through my panties. His smile had turned dangerous. “I don't know.”

I struggled, panic flaring hotly inside me. Small beads of sweat dotted my upper lip, and I licked them away.

“Mason—”

He leaned in and kissed me. His tongue slid along mine, tangling, bullying. I sighed against his mouth and felt him smile.

“I was going to tie you up later, anyway. I think you've done a fairly decent job of immobilizing yourself for me.”

I gasped—both from the fact that his fingers had slipped between my nether lips, and that they'd driven the lace of my knickers against my swollen clitoris. “You're not going to leave me like this, are you?”

There was begging in my voice. We could both hear it. It amused him; I knew because he laughed softly and shook his head.

“Why
did
you try it on?” he asked, straightening up. He moved behind me, and his fingers skated along my bunched-up shoulder muscles. His touch was both infuriating and insanely pleasurable.

“I have no idea. I'm a moron?”

“You do it every time. Try stuff on, get angry, rant, donate it
.”

“Again, I ask, why does she give it to me?” I countered.

He poked his head over my shoulder and said in my ear, “Because like her son, she sometimes gets off on inflicting pain.”

That shut me up. It was torture to try on my mother-in-law's hand-me-downs. They were always so nice, so fashionable and too fucking small and yet...I kept doing it.

“Mean,” I humphed.

“Controlling,” he laughed.

I felt him test the restrictive white cloth that still had me stuck good and tight. Another rush of anxiety worked through me and I tried to breathe. Tried not to beg. But finally I gave in. “Jesus, Mason, please.”

“Like I said,” he went on as if I hadn't spoken. “I was going to tie you up anyway.” His hand skimmed over the swell of my ass. He plucked at the lavender lace that covered my bottom.

“But...I...”

“And here you were such a good girl and did it for me.” His teeth captured my earlobe and he nipped me. Wetness graced the inside of my panties, want flexed deep in my pussy. I sighed.

“But...”

“So what I think I'll do instead is...this.” He moved to stand in front of me, pushed me down slowly but insistently by my now-singing shoulders. The sockets ached, my muscles screamed for relief, and yet, when I went down on my knees, I grew wetter.

I opened my mouth without being asked, and he stuck his finger in. Then a second. I sucked them like I would his cock as he watched me, smiling. “Good girl.”

Heat flooded my cheeks.

I couldn't drag my eyes away as he undid the button on his jeans. His zipper. When he pulled his cock free and stroked it, a tremor of anticipation rocked me.

“I—” I pressed my lips together, with no idea what I was going to say.

Mason dragged the smooth warmth of his cockhead along my lips. I kept them pressed tight together almost petulantly until he grunted. Then I gave in to my own urge to have him in my mouth, to taste his skin.

I sucked just the tip, driving my tongue against the slick indentation at the tip. I tasted the salt of his precome and the sweetness of his shaft. I drove my mouth down slowly, dragging a big breath of air into my lungs as I did it. My knees started to ache and my shoulders started to scream. And yet, it was perfect. Just what I needed. My pussy flexed eagerly to confirm the emotion.

Mason held my head and slipped in and out, wetting my lips with my own saliva as he fucked my mouth. “I think, despite being a good girl, that maybe someone needs a spanking to remind her not to fall into my mother's passive-aggressive trap.”

I blinked, then sucked with all my might, feeling the ache in my tongue and jaw from the exertion. A small spasm sounded inside me, a precursor to the orgasms I imagined to be on the way.

He remained silent long enough to make me worry. His big hands muffled the world by covering my ears as he drove into my mouth, filled my throat, took me the way he needed to find pleasure.

Behind my back, I clasped my hands together restlessly, thinking maybe I should just struggle and thrash to get the dreaded jacket down and off my arms. And then...what?

“Oh don't run away, sweetheart,” he said, reading my mind. He brushed my bangs off my forehead, and cooler air kissed my damp skin. “You know you want it.”

He pulled free of my mouth with a small pop and grinned.

I shivered. Because he was right. As miserable as I was trapped in this stupid jacket, I wanted it. I wanted him to thrust back into my mouth. I wanted him to flip me over and touch me. I wanted to feel the sting and kiss of his hands on me. I did. I wanted it.

I shook my head and tried to capture his cock with my mouth. He pulled back, shaking his head and pushing his jeans all the way down. Mason picked them up, draped them over a chair, started on the buttons of his shirt.

“Admit it, Robin,” he said. “Say it.”

I cocked my head, and it slipped out before I could help myself. “It.”

He didn't smile.

“Okay. You get your wish.” He stopped with the buttons and moved toward me fast. I watched, curious, until he walked past me, dropped to his knees and grabbed my wrists. I felt him begin to tug the fabric and pull it down.

“Wait!” I yelled and we both went still.

I said nothing. All I could hear was the tick of the hallway clock floating into our room.

“I'm waiting, Robin.”

“I...don't...” I said, sighing. “Don't free me. Not yet. Please.”

Was I insane? My arms and shoulders and back ached. Here I was staring freedom in the face, and I said no?

“Okay. But why?” I heard that smile on his face. It made me insane. Angry. Enraged. Offended! And fuck me hard...so turned on.

“I...want...” I hung my head, adding fresh agony to the back of my neck. “I want it!” I said, and then clenched my jaw so tight with frustration I thought I might break a few teeth.

Mason said nothing. Simply stood and removed his shirt. He bent, put his hands around me and helped me stand. He walked me to the bed, tipped me onto my belly so that my hips were on the mattress but my legs touched the floor, and stood behind me. I could feel him there between my thighs, crowding me, his hand coming down to stroke my lower back, the swell of my ass, the backs of my thighs.

Fire erupted on my skin from his gentle touch. My shoulders started to tremble. A tear slid from my eye, and I bit my lip.

“Hips,” he said.

I lifted them willingly and he tugged my panties down slowly. He worked them over the swell of my hips, then whisked them away.

“You need to stop trying them on,” he said conversationally. “For your sanity.”

The blow landed suddenly and before I felt it, I heard it. Red-hot pain followed the sound, heat followed the pain, pleasure tagged along.

“And for mine,” Mason said.

I nodded crazily against the dark-blue bedspread. I chewed my lip, tried not to sob, but found myself fixating on the clenching pleasure between my thighs.

“Say you will,” he commanded. But then he delivered another heavy-handed swat.

My body rocked, bowed, and I tilted my head back before crying out. “I will.”

“Promise,” he ordered and then crossed the initial blow with another expert smack.

“Promise,” I wheezed because the air rushed out of me.

I couldn't help it. Didn't even think of it. I clenched my cunt tight and a small blip of bliss coursed through me. I could come if we kept this up.

“Stop that,” he said.

I did as told, though it was hard.

He knocked my legs apart with his knee and then leaned back over me, spreading my nether lips with his fingers. I wished I were faceup. I wished I could see him. I stopped wishing when he drove a few fingers into me.

He flexed them against the tender desperate place in me that needed friction. I tried to spread myself more for him. He put a hand on my ass, pressed down, held me steady and fucked me with his fingers for a few seconds. I could hear how wet I was. It made me blush.

“You are tall and curvy and luscious,” he said softly.

I smiled—until he smacked my left asscheek hard enough to make me shout.

“My mother is short and thin and, as you noted, birdlike.” One, two, three fast swats on my upper thighs just below my ass.

My heartbeat throbbed in my bottom and my clit thumped in time.

I moaned when he dropped to his knees, kissed the skin he'd just spanked and buried his face against my ass, finding my clit through my spread legs with his warm tongue. He only did it for a second. Just long enough for me to want it bad. And to suffer the loss of the sensation.

When Mason stood, he yanked the jacket binding my arms, sliding the too tight sleeves all the way down and freeing me.
This time when I moaned it was with painful pleasure to feel blood flowing back into my arms. It hurt. It felt wonderful.

“Roll on your back, Robin.”

I rolled, feeling drunk with all the sensations. Feeling buzzed with sensory overload.

He quickly tied the jacket arms in one big sloppy knot around my wrists. He put my arms up over my head. “Spread your legs.” His cock stood out hard and flushed and I wanted to suck it again, touch it, have it in me.

I licked my lips and did as he told me.

“I think that you've learned your lesson.”

I nodded. “I have. I have.” I was repeating myself, frantic, mindless with want.

“But I think it will stick with you if I give you a little more incentive to retain this memory.”

He knelt next to me on the bed to my left and studied my face. I was confused but ready. Would he kiss me? Pinch me? Go down on me? What would he—

“Count to five,” he said, and gave me a hard but not too hard spank to my pussy.

The blow rocked me not so much because it was rough but because it shocked me.

“One.” Breathy, shocked.

A second spank.

“Two.” Moaning. Tortured. “Three, four,” I cooed, the sensation of his impact rocking through me.

The final smack was a bit harder. It startled my clitoris, which forced pleasure through my womb. “Five,” I breathed.

He moved fast, his face intent, telling me he was done with the game. He was ready to move on. Mason moved between my thighs, kissed me, crushed his big body down on mine until all the air rushed out of me and then he kissed me some more. I
was light-headed with the kiss and the need for air.

He shoved his hand under my ass and tilted me. The tender skin of my ass pounded like an extra heart from the rough contact, but when he pressed into me, filling me with his cock, I came on the first stroke. One single rough thrust and I was clenching up around him, saying his name over and over.