Uncollared (8 page)

She walked to him, removing the corset and folding it over his outstretched arm.

“Stay right there. Just like that.” His eyes looked almost silver now as they swept her with their gaze. A flush moved up Mia’s body. Her nipples tautened into hard buds.

Chess gave a sigh. “Ah, Ruffles. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Mia knew it wasn’t true, but just the same it warmed her inside. Every woman fantasized that some man might find her beautiful, even if the rest of the world didn’t.

She reminded herself that she was only a toy to Chess. A pretty toy, maybe, but one he’d ultimately tire of and push aside. And that was fine, because she’d learned her lesson about caring too deeply for a Dom. It wasn’t called “play” for nothing.

Chess patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Mia went to him and sat, dressed only in the thong. She perched awkwardly on his thigh, unable to get comfortable, unable to relax.

“Easy.” Chess soothed her, stroking her thigh while he slid his other hand down her back.

His touch, gentle but sure, comforted her.

“Better?” he asked after a bit.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He smoothed his fingers up and down her back, up and down. Mia, lulled by the feeling, felt her eyelids droop. She felt almost as though she could drift into sleep.

He touched the indentations the bones of the corset had left on her pale skin. “Do these hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

“So delicate.” He traced the bones of her shoulders and ribs.

Abruptly his voice lost its wonder and turned serious. “Your safe word is ‘red.’ When you say that, it means all play stops immediately. The scene is over. If you’re nervous, unsure about something, your word is ‘yellow.’ We’ll slow down, discuss it. Do you understand?”

Mia swallowed hard and nodded.

“Say it.”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“Good.” He pulled open a drawer in the side table and removed something. “I want you to wear this.”

She hardly had time to examine it before he placed it around her throat. A collar. But no delicate golden chain like Master Philip had given her. It was heavy and nonmetallic. As Chess fastened it around her neck, she lifted her hands to touch it. She stopped, realizing he hadn’t given her permission.

He nodded. “It’s all right. Go ahead.”

The collar was made of leather, smooth, no rough edges anywhere. And, as she’d noticed, it had weight. It held her throat snugly, though she could breathe and swallow just fine. Still, she would never be able to forget it was there.

She looked at Chess.

“It’s heavy, isn’t it? I wanted it that way. For as long you’re here, I want you to remember whose collar you wear. To whom you belong. Who you serve.”

At his words and his gaze, Mia began to sink into herself. She experienced the same feeling when Master Philip commanded her. Though the sensation was familiar, she didn’t know what to call it. The rest of the world went soft and fuzzy, and the only thing that mattered was her Master’s voice. His touch. That alone was real.

Chess gave a gentle rumble of laughter. Did he know how she felt? He lightly ruffled her hair, and his voice sounded as though it came from a great distance. “Have you ever used toys?”

Toys? Mia couldn’t get his words to connect in her brain.

He removed his hand and soon pressed something cool against her folds, something that vibrated and buzzed softly.

Her eyes flew open wide. “What—”

When she shifted, he moved the object up toward her clitoris, and she folded.

“Oh. Oh. What is it?”

“Does it feel good?” He still wore that naughty smile.

“It, uh, what ahh!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” To her disappointment, he pulled the item away. She saw a ball, a little larger than a tennis ball. Instead of the fuzzy covering, it was smooth and white with a pink strip resembling a ribbon around the circumference.

She blinked at him in confusion. Where had it come from?

He nodded toward the drawer in the end table beside his chair. “That’s my toy drawer. All kinds of fun things in there.” He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “I was a scout as a boy, Mia. I’m always prepared.”

Huh. A naughty scout in the Den of Kink. Of course this entire scene had been choreographed, all planned out. Chess would leave nothing to chance—that’s the kind of man he was. The kind of
Dom
he was.

“I like this toy—it’s something a little different.” He pressed it between Mia’s legs again. “Hold it,” he whispered. “Hold it tight between your thighs.”

She pressed her thighs together, curling her pussy against the pulsating ball. Ah. So good. Mia squeezed her eyes closed, felt her mouth scrunch up—

“Enough.” Abruptly he snatched the buzzing ball away and placed it on the end table. He tweaked her nipple to get her attention. “You didn’t answer my question, Ruffles. Have you ever used toys?”

She bit her lip in shyness. “Well, I have a little pocket rocket, Sir.

“Good. That’s very good.” He spoke as though he were proud of her, warmth in his eyes. “Nothing else?”

“N-no.”

“Well, we’ll take care of that. I have plenty of toys with your name written all over them, Ruffles.”

Chess’s arm moved again. Mia tried to see what he was doing.

“Look at my face, Ruffles. Only at my face.”

Mia gazed into those storm-cloud eyes and gasped as Chess’s fingers slipped beneath her thong and something cool and hard probed her. She was already so slick that he easily slipped the object into her. It began to vibrate and pulse.

“Good girl.” He patted her hip. “Stand up.”

Mia obeyed. The object inside her thrummed and throbbed in an irregular rhythm. Sparks of excitement shot to her swollen clit and tingling nipples. She breathed in shallow pants, afraid if she breathed too deeply, she would topple over into orgasm.

“It’s a bullet,” Chess explained. “Now remember, Ruffles, for this time you’ve agreed to, your body is mine, and your orgasms are mine. You’re not to come without my permission.”

Oh God. “Yes, Sir.”

“I didn’t press the point last night, since it’d been so long for you.” His mouth quirked. “See how softhearted I am?”

In her effort not to come, Mia could hardly focus on his words.

His smile disappeared, and he was deadly serious. “But now it’s a different ball game. Do you understand?”

She dipped her head to indicate agreement, afraid to move too much. “Yes, Sir.” Her voice felt and sounded rusty.

He pointed to the only article of clothing she still wore, her thong. “Take that off.”

Mia slowly wriggled it down her legs, biting her lip as her movements intensified the bullet's sensations. At last she slipped it off and placed it into his outstretched hand. He fingered it for a moment and placed it on the end table.

“I’m thirsty,” he announced. “I’d like you to pour me a glass of wine from the bar over there.” He gestured with his chin to the other side of the room. A bottle of white wine and a glass sat on the marble top of a small bar of dark wood.

“Yes, Sir.” Just as she turned, Chess grasped her butt cheek and squeezed to get her attention.

“One more thing.” He reached into the drawer beside him and pulled something else out. Something with strips of cloth and a blue rubbery thing.

“Lift your foot,” he instructed. When Mia obeyed he slipped something over her left foot, then her right. She realized the strips of cloth were actually straps connected to a little blue butterfly. Chess slid the straps up her legs and adjusted them until the butterfly rested against her clit. It began to vibrate. Mia pressed her lips tight.

He smacked her on the ass, but somehow it didn’t sting, although the loud crack startled Mia and sent her hustling. But the pulsing of the bullet inside her along with the vibrations of the butterfly soon distracted her from her purpose. Her legs trembled, and her vision grew hazy—the bar, though only a few feet away, shimmered like a mirage in the distance.

Mia bit the inside of her cheek, willing the pain to divert her from the overwhelming need to climax. Somehow her prayer was answered. The little blue butterfly slowed; the toy inside her stopped buzzing. Mia reached the bar and slumped against it gratefully, sweat moistening her upper lip.

Just as she poured the wine, both toys started up again in irregular rhythms. When the bullet buzzed, the toy tickling her clit stopped, then the other way around. Both pulsed at the same time in different cadences. Mia’s hand trembled, and the bottle clinked against the rim of the glass.

“That wine is expensive, sub. Make sure none of it spills.” Chess’s voice somehow made it through Mia’s agony of arousal.

Fire raged between her thighs and raced up her spine. Just as she was about to tumble into orgasm, the toys subsided. Mia dragged in a deep, thankful breath, and turned to Chess, the wineglass in her hand.

Halfway to him, she noticed a couple of devices on his lap. Remote controls?

He spoke. “Hold on. I don’t want to leave a ring on my table. I’m going to need a coaster. There are some at the bar—go bring me one, Ruffles.”

Mia hesitated. Should she give him the wine first and return for the coaster, or—

She took one more step his way and his mouth flattened. He shook his head. “The coaster.”

Mia turned, and just as she did, the toys started pulsing again. She almost buckled to the floor. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. Walking with the butterfly teasing her swollen clit was torture. She stopped after a few steps to steady herself.

Blessedly, the torment suddenly stopped. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, plastering her hair to her skin. Mia’s face and pussy were aflame. Quickly grasping the coaster, Mia tried to hurry her errand. On her way back to Chess, the toys started up again.

Mia could stand it no longer. “No! Ah!” She plummeted into orgasm, her body stiffening. The wineglass slipped from her hand as the contractions coursed through her. Dimly, she heard the crystal shatter and felt the splash of wine at her feet.

Oh no
. As the last of the ripples wavered away, Mia realized she had disobeyed Master Chess. But then, he’d fixed it so she would. She blinked, sure she would see extreme displeasure on his face. Instead, his eyes were wide with alarm.

“Mia. Don’t move.”

Surprise flooded her as he addressed her by her real name, but her body automatically stilled in obedience to his command. She realized that she stood in a puddle of wine, barefoot, surrounded by broken glass.

Chess strode to her, his shoes crunching through the glass, and swept her into his arms, then carried her to the sofa and laid her nude body there. He knelt beside her, checked her legs and feet.

“Are you all right?” he demanded. His eyes were clouded with concern.

“I think so.” It took a moment for her to remember to add, “Sir.”

“You’re sure? None of the glass cut you?” Chess sighed in relief and lowered his head to kiss her between the breasts. He reached for a chenille throw draped over the arm of the sofa and covered her with it. “Stay there,” he said in his most commanding Dom voice.

Not a problem. She didn’t think she
could
move after that monumental orgasm. She lay still, watching him leave the room and return with a dustpan. He swept up the broken glass, then left the room again to get rid of the debris.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said when he returned and gazed down at her.

“For dropping the crystal or having an orgasm?” he asked.

“Both,” she answered, feeling a shiver at the way he looked at her.

“No, Ruffles. I should be the one to apologize. I should have realized the possibility of the glass breaking. You could have been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t, Sir.”

“Thank God.” He brushed her cheek as lightly as a feather. “It’s my job to take care of you, to see you come to no harm.”

Mia swallowed hard at the serious expression on his face. “Was the wineglass expensive?”

Chess arched a brow and gave her a grin. “Priceless. No, it doesn’t matter. Glasses can be replaced.”

He sat down and pulled her to a sitting position beside him, then let the chenille cover slip down to reveal her breasts. He circled a nipple with his forefinger. “The orgasm, on the other hand, is a different story. You disobeyed my orders.”

He leaned close to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. “
That’s
gonna cost you.”

* * * *

He helped her walk, on jelly legs, to his bedroom. “Do you trust me, Ruffles?”

How to answer? She was here, wasn’t she? Submitting to him. Yet there was a part of her that was still unsure…

Chess read her expression. “Not completely.” He cracked a half smile. “It’s all right. I prefer an honest ‘I don’t know’ to an ambivalent ‘Yes, Sir.’ We have to be completely honest with each other at all times.” He stroked the hair back from her forehead. “I have to be able to trust you too. Shall we work on that? Learning to trust each other?”

At his command, Mia maneuvered herself to the middle of the bed and lay back. The beige comforter felt silky against her skin.

“Sometime I might want to tie I want you up, Ruffles. Bind you to the bed or to a St. Andrew’s cross. Blindfold you. But not now. Now I want you to keep your arms at your sides and close your eyes. Keep them closed. The ropes are invisible, but they’re still there. Created by my voice. And the blindfold is there. You won’t open your eyes. Because you know everything I do will make us both feel good.”

Behind her closed eyelids, Mia saw only darkness. There was the sound of soft footsteps, of blinds being closed, curtains drawn. The hairs on her arms prickled.

“That’s right. Keep your eyes closed…” His voice drifted away, and silence followed. Mia grew anxious as seconds ticked by, then started as something brushed her arm. Something soft and light. It drifted down the length of her arm, then over to her belly, circling her belly button. A feather.

It trailed up between her breasts. Mia was a bit disappointed that her breasts received no attention, but smiled when the feather brushed her lips, then tickled her nose.