Vintage Pleasures (3 page)
“Dismissed. Goodnight, Sabra.”
He left her standing there with her mouth open.
Fucking cheek!
she thought in indignation.
Lauren sidled up to her. “How’d it go?”
“He wants a fucking essay on why he should paddle me!”
Lauren blinked. “What’s wrong with that?” Sabra made a face. “Look, as much as you’re offering your butt for sacrifice, the risk is with him. He’s already attached to you. Then you realise the life isn’t for you, and he feels dirty about quite natural instincts. Oh, and broken-hearted too. So if you want to prove him wrong? I’d get writing.”
Well, goddammit.
On Wed. 13
th
February 2013 at 12.14pm Sabra Pleasures
Dear Tristan,
I think you have an idea that I am only interested in you because you’re a bright shiny thing that I haven’t been allowed to play with yet.
It’s not at all true. The truth is, there's something about you that makes me so very sure about you. I trust you to give me the pain I need on my body but not in my heart. I trust you wholly to take care of that. I’ve known you long enough to understand the kind of man you are. Plus Lauren’s thoroughly vetted you.
I need you. Only you know how difficult it is for me to let go, to give such power to another person. To give control of my pleasure to a man, when it’s always belonged to me.
You and I have waited long enough, but whatever you want me to do, I’m willing to do that. I’ve been careful with who knows what I really want, and I hope you can help me fulfil that.
I hope this letter shows my willingness to be obedient, even though it’s not at all natural to me, and we can start a path of exploration together. I feel as if I’m on tenterhooks! Do you have anything like that? Good old-fashioned roping will do, but I did see on a website something you can use to suspend a weight in the air. Wouldn’t that be good for us? Nothing holding me to the ground except your cock?
Waiting patiently for you to love me.
Sabra
She was rifling through her make-up case when her phone rang. Tristan.
“Hello,” she murmured. “Have you made up your mind?”
“I made up my mind about you a long time ago. I just needed you to be sure.”
“You keep saying that!”
“It’s a serious commitment. Requires you to trust me to test your boundaries.”
“But I have the best safe word in the world.”
“Tell me.”
“Chastity.”
He laughed. “Very apt. I’m sending a car for you.”
“What do you want me to wear?”
“Good start,” he said softly, “but anything you wear will be cut from you.”
“Well, then,” she said, finding it difficult to breathe. “Better leave the expensive stuff in the drawer.”
“Half an hour, Sabra. Then you are all mine.”
“Thank you for the gift.”
He ended the call, and Sabra did a little dance of victory on the spot. “Right! What can I afford to put a pair of scissors through? Nothing. That’s right.”
She turned up. In the half an hour it took for her to get to his flat above the studio, Tristan had seriously thought she was going to change her mind. From the moment she’d sat on that stool in his studio, dressed in nothing but pearls and sky-high heels, he’d been obsessed with her. The cream colour of the pearls that contrasted perfectly with skin the colour of coffee beans had haunted him for months. How perfect a sub she would be, if that was what she truly wanted. He couldn’t make her into what
he
wanted. She had to choose that. And she had.
He pressed his black leather gloves more firmly onto his hands, trying to tamp down his own excitement. The doorbell rang, and she was there. Wrapped up in a camel-coloured trench coat and black, bejewelled heels. Her hair was slightly tousled, ready for more interference, and her mouth was the centrepiece of the outfit, beautifully coloured in the same red as she’d worn in the studio. She was a vision.
Leading her upstairs to his bedroom, he was amazed by how calm she was. Once inside the confines of his room, Sabra removed her trench coat, revealing her complete nudity beneath. She was the most insanely glorious woman he had ever encountered. He went on his knees to remove her shoes. So close to her sex, the scent of her arousal was hypnotic. He placed her shoes carefully to one side, very aware that they cost just as much as his camera equipment, if not more.
Tristan cupped her face as he straightened, the leather warming on her heated skin. This moment was everything to him, Sabra giving him her trust. To care for her, to give her the exquisite pleasure that would come from her submission to him. His reward in exchange for her confidence in him.
“Look at me,” he whispered. Her lashes lifted, fluttered as she met his gaze. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“I know.” She smiled, lifting her chin to kiss him. Instead he leaned back from her and smeared her lipstick from her bottom lip. Without asking, she licked his leather-bound thumb, defiance and lust in her eyes.
Of its own accord, his hand skimmed her naked torso. He’d waited long enough. Arranging her carefully on the ottoman that lay parallel to his huge bed, he looped her wrists together then secured them to the legs of the ottoman. Her knees he tied to the base keeping her thighs separated with the final knots. She wriggled her bottom, seeking her own comfort against the bindings. All the action did was remind Tristan what possibilities they had together. He cupped a hand over her buttocks, trailing his thumb lightly between the cheeks. One day, he’d take her there. But not tonight. She wasn’t ready to have all her limits tested. Her trust was still so very new. They would work up to that.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Tristan” she breathed. The awe in her voice was enough to make his cock jump.
“The rules. One, you obey.”
“Obey,” she repeated it as if it tasted ugly.
“You have your safe word. Two, do not make me repeat myself or you will be punished.”
He felt her body jolt beneath his hand. It made him smile. How right he’d been about her. “If you move when I tell you not to, I will punish you. Most importantly, if you orgasm before I allow you
…
”
“I can’t help that!” she squeaked. He gave her a short sharp slap on the bottom.
“What did I say about obeying?”
She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’m sorry, Tristan.”
“Good. If you come before I permit you to, there will be consequences. Are the rules clear to you, Sabra?”
“Yes, Tristan.”
The soft
Tristan
stirred his cock even harder. For a moment he enjoyed the intensity of zipper metal pressing into his stiff flesh. Slowly he stroked his leather-gloved hands over her body in long, slow movements. She was rigid in anticipation.
Ah
, he thought,
she’s waiting for the pain
. His fingers roamed into the hollows of her hips then over her inner thighs. Her breath caught, and a moan slipped from between her lips.
“Stay still,” he commanded. As his palms traveled to her knees, he inhaled the scent of her arousal. Peeling his hands away, he saw the black leather was glistening. Slowly, he sank a finger into her pussy. The resistance against his finger made his cock press against his fly in even more desperation. Her wail of disappointment as he withdrew made him chuckle.
“Patience.” He sucked her juice from the leather, the heady taste forcing his eyes closed.
Delicious
.
“You’re making me wait,” she growled, wriggling again.
“You just broke a rule,” he reminded her and she tensed. In slow circles, he rubbed and squeezed the globes of her arse. Gently he parted her cheeks and watched her clench her pussy in anticipation. Releasing her buttocks, he gave her a smack on the juiciest side of her arse, just where the most flesh was. She yelped, her flesh jiggling in response. “Don’t,” he reminded, changing to the other side of her bottom, “break. My. Rules. Was any of that not clear to you?”
“No, Tristan!” she yelled. He slipped his gloved hand between the soaked lips of her pussy before applying one last spank in punishment. Her vocal response told him she wasn’t thinking at all that she was being punished.
Tristan turned to the selection of paddles, canes and whips laid out on his bed and picked up the rattan cane. He stroked the tip of the cane over her spine. “I said sorry!” she breathed.
“I don’t believe you’re sorry for being disobedient,” he explained. The cane trailed over a diamond-hard nipple and over her stomach. He nudged her swollen clit and watched as the ropes binding her trembled. With the lightest flick of his wrist, the cane landed across her buttocks, and Sabra arched from the ottoman. A welt rose instantly. He used his other hand to rub over the sore flesh, Sabra shaking underneath his touch. He flicked her again across the buttocks, then down to new, untouched flesh. The backs of her thighs.
“What did I tell you about the rules?”
“Not to break them!” she screamed again. He cupped her belly with a palm; the heat that radiated from her should have burned him.
“You won’t come unless you’re a good girl, and you are not behaving.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan, please.” He pressed his middle finger against her clit. She was close, he could tell.
“Please, what?”
“I won’t break the rules. I promise.” She turned her head to look at him; the pleading in her eyes, the redness in her lip, bitten to hell, was enough to make him relent, for now.
“Say it again,” he demanded, pushing his finger into her pussy.
“I won’t break the rules,” she moaned, pushing back against his hand. He added another finger to her drenched canal. Curving his fingers into her, he drew his tongue over one of her burning hot welts; he knew his saliva would intensify the throbbing pain. Her pussy began to squeeze on his digits uncontrollably.
“Then you need to do something right now.”
“Please, may I come?” she begged, her breath coming in ragged hitches. He removed his fingers, and her wail of utter disappointment made him chuckle.
“Not yet.” He gently rubbed her back and shoulders, his lips drifting over the back of her neck. She shuddered violently. Cupping her breasts, he let them roll in his leather-covered palms in increasingly hard circles.
“Please!”
He released her and walked around to face her. She glanced up at him, her eyes huge with longing and need, mouth parted. That was where he needed to be, right between those pretty, pouty lips. “Please me first.”
Slowly, he unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock from the confines. He rested the glistening head against her lips, which parted hungrily before he even gave the direction. “All of it,” he ordered. Without taking her eyes from him, she kept her mouth wide open to take part of him inside. By his third thrust into her mouth, she was sucking all of him. He’d known she’d excel at this, sucking his cock as if it’d give her life. “More,” he ordered. She nodded, her mouth too full to answer, taking him deeper. Her throat closed over the tip, ripping a hoarse groan from him.
