King (20 page)

I
followed him all the way back up to the room we had been in before, silently
watching his body language as he closed the door, but he was giving absolutely
nothing away. “Take off your dress” he demanded suddenly as I slipped the
straps from my shoulders and peeled the tight material slowly down my body,
shimmying out of its grip before stepping out and kicking it across the floor.
“Now lie on the bed and open your legs”. I swallowed hard, knowing that this
was what I’d agreed to but slightly nervous nonetheless, and did as he asked.
He was standing over me, his mouth still in that unreadable line, sapphire blue
eyes eclipsed with huge black pools betraying his lust, that acted like an
aphrodisiac and I was determined to please him. “Except for binding your hands,
I haven’t tied you up before Charlotte. I am going to chain you to the bed by
your wrists and your ankles, completely exposed for my pleasure. Then I am
going to blindfold you”. I was so desperate to please him I nodded in
anticipation, excited by the thought of the wonderful things he’d do to me
while I couldn’t move and I couldn’t see. I had enjoyed being bound and I had
loved the blindfold in the creative space. ‘Excellent’ cried my inner wicked as
I smiled up at him.

“You
are fidgety and impatient and I need to teach you not to be” he gazed intensely
down at me and I couldn’t help myself. “How will you do it Jason?” and he
pulled his wonderful little smirk, raising his eyebrows at me. “Still impatient
Charlotte, but what I’ve got in mind will make the fidgeting stop”. The smooth
low velvet voice slid over my senses and I was desperate to know what he had in
mind as he moved away to a drawer removing something from what looked like a
freezer disguised in a cupboard, returning slowly to the bed, keeping the item
out of view and placing it with some others on top of a high dresser.
 
I couldn’t see what they were from my
position on the bed, gasping as he showed me the glinting blade and I swallowed
hard shaking my head involuntarily as he moved towards me, smirking broadly. It
was fucking huge and there was no way that was going anywhere
near
me. “I’ll be using this Charlotte” he offered, showing
me the knife.

“Can
you imagine what will happen if you
so
much as flinch
while I’m running this over your skin?” I was shaking my head, wide eyed,
sweating mildly and incredibly nervous. “I said I didn’t want to do anything
that will draw blood Jason” I gasped. His smirk was broadening. “I have no
intention of drawing blood, or marking your beautiful body in any way
Charlotte, but that largely depends on how still you are” he said challenging
me. “I like knife play” he growled, grabbing my hand suddenly and placing it on
the crotch of his trousers which was imprisoning what felt like a huge erection
and I was torn, wanting to please him and terrified of being hurt. “Do you
trust me?” he asked gently, tipping his head and regarding me closely. “Yes,
but I’m really scared”. The logical side of me reasoned that Jason King would
not want to hurt me, and there was no way he’d cut me up at a party in a house
full of people, but I would be tied up, effectively blind and unable to do
anything about it. He seemed to read my mind. “Do you remember your safe word?”
“Mercedes” I said quickly. “Use it if you need to” he said moving away,
returning with four chains with fur lined cuffs on each end, attaching them
first to the rings in the bed posts and then to me.

When
he had finished, I was completely secured, spread eagle and unable to move, and
thinking we were supposed to be taking it slowly. If knife play was slowly,
what the hell did my future have in store? He bent to kiss me while putting on
my blindfold and the small, affectionate gesture touched me, firing up my arousal
while my body begged my brain to play along, realising what pleasures would
come at the end of it. I smiled to myself, it was a very effective way to get
someone to stop fidgeting and I was hard pressed to think of anything that
would work better, despite the fact that it was more than mildly terrifying. I
knew this was fantasy, I knew I was safe, yet the fear felt absolutely real.
The reality was that this man had complete and utter control over my body and
it was something I had never given up before. I’d been tied, but only my hands,
now none of me was free. All I had was one word and the trust that he would
stop if I used it. I almost did, the only thing stopping me, the confusing,
intoxicating mix of the curious arousal that was spreading through me like
wildfire, as it suddenly hit me that I might actually be a little bit odd in my
tastes.

I
flinched involuntary as something hit my thighs, soon realising it was his
hands as I relaxed into it, relishing the feel of him on me, igniting my nerves
as he ran them gently up the inside of my legs, surprised when I realised how
wet I was as he stroked my swollen lips. His low rumbling growls of
appreciation caused me to arch towards him as he laughed gently. “Still” he
growled as I tried to stop, make myself immobile. With every slight movement
came a rattle from one of the chains that tied me to the bed and it was a noise
I couldn’t afford to hear when that knife came into play. I gasped as he sucked
at my nipples, biting them gently and stilled when I felt his weight move from
the bed, my ragged breathing growing increasingly heavy as I anticipated his
return.

I
could hear the noises as he moved the objects around on the top of the dresser,
waiting for the glinting blade to touch my flesh, nervous, sweating, and more
than a little aroused. There was something intensely erotic about being held
captive by Jason King and he was ramping up the tension and taking his time as
I wondered where he’d touch first, nerves jumping as I felt the ice cold
sharpness of the blade against my stomach.

‘Fuck’
I cried inwardly, forcing myself to freeze as he ran it slowly along my skin.
My brain was a mix of jumbled emotions, fear, terror, trust, arousal and my
body was on such a heightened state of alert, I could literally feel every cell
exploding beneath his touch. It was a psychological torment as much as a
physical one. Every time I wanted to cry out my safe word, I had to inwardly
reinforce the trust to my scared inner self. ‘This was Jason, he wouldn’t hurt
me’, but the threat was there and that was enough. He peppered small, soft
kisses along the trail of skin where he had run the knife and the contrast was
sudden, exquisite and almost enough to make me jump. I didn’t.

My
breasts were next as my breathing accelerated to such a pace that it was all I
could hear. He must have been able to see the rise and fall of my chest and I
couldn’t control it as the blade curved over the soft round flesh and my breath
hitched uncontrollably. From the gentle rattle of the chain, I knew I had
moved. I held my breath as Jason stilled. Soft butterfly kisses were next, down
the side of my throat, across my clavicle in such a sublime contrast, that I
moaned softly. As he grabbed the hard bud of my nipple between his teeth, it
resonated so powerfully in my core that my soft sigh betrayed my enjoyment and
he paused. I could feel him moving before I felt the sharp coolness running up
the skin of my thigh, further and further towards my centre, unable to help the
huge gasp as I felt it there, on the verge of crying out my safe word until my
brain registered the softness of the stroking.

 
It was too dull, not sharp and cold but warm,
firm flesh as his fingers found my centre, running the wetness over my clit,
the fear dissipating and I was totally lost in the mercy of Jason King and his
skilled hands. As he pushed himself gently inside me I moaned into the
pleasure, flooded with excitement as relief washed over me and I was dizzy and
panting and desperate for more, arching my body upwards as he moved away. I had
to stay still, that was the lesson. The slow pad of his feet across the carpet
and I was searching for him, blindly, relying only on my hearing as I tried to
place him in the room. The soft opening and closing of the cupboard was the
next thing I heard until I felt him, gently lifting the blindfold as I blinked
against the assaulting light and he was smiling down at me broadly, deliciously
naked and heavily aroused.

“Hey”
I smiled back, completely overcome with such a sudden rush of emotion and
relief that my eyes welled with tears and my body arched upwards, desperate for
the beautiful touch of my tormentor and my saviour. He moved to stand at the
foot of the bed, raking his gaze down the length of my body before his eyes
burned back into mine and I needed him with such overwhelming intensity that I
couldn’t hold it back. “Please fuck me, Jason”.

He
seemed to understand me, to read me, to sense my need as he knelt between my
open legs, running his cock against my wetness, teasing me mercilessly over and
over again. I was pulling against the chains, unable to guide him inside me,
frustrated and needy and getting absolutely nowhere. “Tell me what you need” he
growled watching my face, eyes wet with tears, lips parted, panting with desire
as I cried out loudly. “Please Jason I need you to fuck me” and he did,
thrusting deeply in one firm stroke. I screamed against the sudden invasion,
pain and pleasure surging through me, his huge cock stretching me to my limits,
moving harder and faster and as I was consumed with need. “Like this?” he said
deeply, his beautiful voice laced with desire and dripping with lust as he
powered into me hard. Not touching his gorgeous hard abs and chest was torture
and I longed to run my hands over his shoulders, his back, grab his hair, but I
was utterly powerless to do anything, tethered and forced to lay there and take
everything he was giving me. I was crying out, gripped with pleasure, grateful
that I hadn’t used the safe word. It was worth it for this, it would always be
worth it.

I
came apart, my insides clenching, squeezing him, as I called out his name
repeatedly,
gasping
between relentless thrusts, eyes
wet and seeping silent tears through the emotional intensity. He didn’t stop,
filling me to the very end of my being until I unravelled again, disappearing
into a black hole of bliss, moulded against the crisp white sheets as I closed
my eyes, absorbing the overwhelming sensations. “Fucking look at me” he
growled, stilling, as I opened my eyes and gazed up into his. “Fuck Charlotte”
he cursed, the strong voice low and gravelly, as he emptied himself inside me,
collapsing his weight over my limp frame and kissing me incessantly as we tried
to catch our breaths. Jason King had taken me from terror to ecstasy and every
place in between, and I was in absolute and utter awe.

He
moved to undo the cuffs on my ankles first, rubbing against the pink marks
where I had pulled against them, leaving the chains draped over the bed as he
moved to free my wrists, kissing them before climbing beside me and pulling me
hard against his chest as we lay together on the huge soft bed. “You were
incredible” he said softly, holding me
so
tightly as I
looked up at him, pure satisfaction engulfing his beautiful features and my
heart soared. “I never intended to do that so soon Charlotte, it takes an
incredible amount of trust” he said gently, stroking my hair and kissing me
tenderly, as though he knew what I’d been through, understood the emotions I
felt, and I couldn’t help the huge surge of pride that powered through me as I
gazed up at him. “Now make me a scotch” he smirked as I looked at him puzzled,
gazing around the room as my eyes landed on the cabinet he had been in earlier,
stocked on the top with glasses and crystal decanters of various coloured
liquids.

I
hopped off the bed slightly too enthusiastically, having to steady myself on
legs that were utterly like jelly as his smirk broadened. I lifted the crystal
stoppers from two of the decanters, smelling the amber liquids until I identified
the scotch, turning my nose up as the powerful vapour hit my lungs and decanted
a third of a glass into a tumbler. “I want ice” he said, the demand in his
voice taking me aback until I spun around to see the small smile playing on his
lips that betrayed his amusement and glancing down at the cupboard to indicate
where it was. As I opened the door, I realised I had been right earlier, the
cupboard disguised a freezer and as I pulled out the top drawer my heart
stopped. Nestling on top of the ice filled drawer was the knife he had just
tormented me with, and right next to it was a butter knife, its smooth curved
blade soft and short and utterly blunt. I couldn’t help the grin that spread
across my face, picking up three ice cubes, dropping them into his scotch,
chinking against the crystal as I shut the door and spun around.

“Which one?”
I grinned as he quirked an eyebrow at
me, tipping his head.
“That would be telling” he winked as I
passed him his glass, crawling back in beside him as quickly as I could, and
snuggling tightly against his rock hard chest.
“It doesn’t really
matter, the effect is the same” I laughed as he smiled at me wickedly. I
suspected it probably wasn’t usual for him to give away his tricks, and
wondered if he had done it because he thought he had pushed me too far. Maybe
he just wanted me to know he wasn’t actually a sadistic psychopath, but
whatever the reason, I loved that he’d shared it.

I
relished the closeness and the intimacy as he sipped his scotch. He had pushed
me further than I’d ever thought I’d go already, but he did it with a huge
amount of care which was exactly what I needed. When we lay together in the
euphoric afterglow, I could almost imagine that our relationship was normal,
but it was far from that.
 
He was King, I
was Smith, not his girlfriend but his cherished secret sub and the thought made
me smile.