Rich Pickings Read online

  I shiver, every nerve ending attuned to his touch, his seductive voice. I don’t reply, unsure whether I should. It seems not to matter

  “What would you like me to do to you, Summer? Do you want pain tonight? Or pleasure?”

  Now he does require some input from me. “Can’t I have both, Sir?”

  “That’s greedy. Choose.”

  I don’t hesitate. “Then I choose pain, Sir.”

  He caresses my bottom again, moving his attention to the other cheek now and abandoning my swallows. “You surprise me. Why choose pain?”

  I give him an honest answer, and one that surprises me even as I say the words, “Because you’re going away, Sir, back to Cumbria. This may have to last me a while. I want tonight to be—memorable.”

  “It will be. And I won’t be gone long.”

  “Six weeks seems like a long time to me. Maybe even eight weeks.” I don’t want to sound whiny, or clingy. But I will miss him. Terribly.

  “I’ll be back in ten days, maybe less if I can find a locum.”

  I turn my head to meet his eyes, puzzled. “But downstairs, you said you wouldn’t be back for six weeks. Maybe even as long as eight.”

  “Did I give you permission to look up, Miss Jones?” The timbre of his voice alters, only very slightly, but the edge is there, the clipped coolness of a Dom who intends to be obeyed.

  It works, and I fix my gaze firmly back on my thighs. “I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “Concentrate. I don’t want to have to discipline you this evening, but I will if it’s needed.” Still that hard, implacable tone.

  My bottom clenches under his hand as he continues. “What I actually said was that I wouldn’t usually be back for six weeks, maybe eight. But that was then, before I had an incentive to come to Yorkshire more frequently.”

  Me? Does he mean me?

  He leans in to murmur in my ear, “You are one powerful temptation, Miss Jones. I think my brother’s going to be sick of the sight of me cluttering up his house. Or maybe I’ll just need to spend all my time at the flat over the garage.”

  Yes! I know I’m smiling though he won’t see unless he chooses to look closely as I keep my eyes obediently lowered. I manage to keep my voice even as I reply, “You’ll be very welcome, Sir. Should I stock up on condoms?”

  There’s a pause. I wonder if I’ve overstepped the mark, been too pushy. Then he leans in again, his breath brushing the back of my neck. “You do that, Miss Jones.”

  “So, are you still looking for pain, little sub?”

  “I’m not so sure now, Sir. Could you decide please?”

  “A little of both, perhaps. Hold out your hand.”

  I do as I’m told, without hesitation. He drops a small handful of metal objects into my outstretched palm.

  “You know what these are?”

  I nod. Nipple clamps. Ouch.

  “Okay?”

  Another small nod from me. I know this will be alright, Dan has never let me down. I want to try everything he has to show me.

  “Good girl. I’m going to tie your hands behind you now.”

  He holds out his hand and I relinquish the nipple clamps to him. He tosses them onto the bed. As the objects scatter across the duvet I notice there seem to be three items. I look up at Dan, puzzled.

  “A clit clamp too. A special treat.” He winks at me.

  I relax. Slightly. And shiver. A lot.

  “Place your hands behind you. I’d like you to grasp each elbow with the opposite hand but I’ll put you into position this first time. In the future you need to remember it. This is what I want you to do when I ask you to present your breasts to me.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” I reach back, laying my hands, palms down on the duvet behind me.

  I can hear Dan moving around, though I’m careful not to turn to watch. There’s the sound of a drawer opening, then closing, and he’s back, standing behind me. He takes my hands and gently bends my arms at the elbows, positioning me to his liking. My palms are cupping my elbows, and he quickly ties my forearms together to hold me in that position. He’s using something quite soft, scarves perhaps.

  “Is that comfortable? Not too tight?”

  “It’s fine, Sir, thank you.”

  He plunges his fingers into my hair, lifting and turning my head. Leaning around, his eyes are close to mine, his gaze hot and appreciative. He places his lips over mine, his kiss deep and sensual as mine part under his. I suck his tongue willingly into my mouth, loving the questing sensation as he tastes, tests, explores. His tongue strokes mine, trailing behind my teeth and along the most sensitive part of my lips. I tilt my head back in welcome, my eyelids dropping as I sink into the intimacy of the moment.

  I have no power to break the kiss, even if I wanted to. Eventually Dan raises his head to murmur in my ear, “So sexy, so submissive. I adore you, Summer.”

  Adore? Is that the same as love? It’ll certainly do for now.

  “Ready to continue?”

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice is thin, breathy, the butterflies now in full flight low down in my belly.

  Dan smiles and straightens, then walks around to the other side of the bed. Now he’s facing me, his expression deep, intent. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaches for the nipple clamps. They look a little like hair grips, but with a sliding bead holding the two arms together. Dan demonstrates them to me.

  I’m going to slip the clamp over your nipples, then slide the bead up to close it. When it’s as tight as you can bear, you tell me and we stop there. They’re meant to hurt, but not too much. At least, not this first time.” He glances at my already swollen nipples. “I see you’re getting in the spirit of this, Miss Jones. I need to perk you up a little more still though. May I?”

  “Of course, Sir. Please.” So polite.

  He smiles his thanks, then takes my left nipple between his fingers. He squeezes and tugs slightly. The position of my arms has pulled my shoulders back and thrust my breasts out to him. His eyes are on my swelling, now throbbing bud, hardening in his hands as he rolls and squeezes it. His grip is sharp, the intention to hurt. I hiss as the pain bites, and he glances sharply up to meet my gaze.

  “We’ve hardly started, Miss Jones. If it’s easier for you not to watch I won’t insist. Close your eyes, and concentrate on breathing evenly. Don’t move, and don’t struggle.”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and close my eyes. Dan returns to his task, increasing the pressure on my nipple until I’m grinding my teeth with the effort of not crying out. My instinct is to shrink away from him, but I know he won’t take kindly to that. I’ve learnt enough by now to know that only my safe word will stop this, and I don’t want to use that. Yet.

  “Tell me when it’s amber. When you’re almost at the point of safe wording, I want to know.”

  “Now, Sir, it’s amber now,” I blurt out the words, conscious that my eyes are watering and my mouth trembling. This is more difficult than I imagined. The pressure is not relieved, but neither does it increase any more. My swollen, tortured nipple is still compressed between Dan’s fingers but he’s no longer twisting and pulling.

  “Breathe through it. It won’t hurt any more than this, and this is only amber, not red. You can do it. Open your eyes, love, and tell me you can do it.”

  His tone is soft by still commanding. I have to obey. I prise my eyelids open, my tears now unchecked as they flow down my cheeks. Dan ignores my apparent distress. Tears will not stop this either. I look at him, his image distorted in my watery gaze, and simply nod. I watch as with his free hand he reaches for one of the nipple clamps beside him on the bed. He opens the two arms, one handed still as he has not released my nipple, and slides the clamp over the distended peak. The ends of the clamp are coated in a softer material, silicon or rubber to protect my delicate nipples. So considerate. He slips the bead up the length of the clamp, forcing the two arms together around my tip. Only then does he let go with his fingers.

&nbs
p; “Tighter?” He tips my chin up so he can see into my eyes. I don’t know what to say, but it seems he’s taking his signals from my expression anyway rather than my words. “Maybe a little?” He lifts one eyebrow, and interprets my silence, correctly, as consent.

  His fingers deft and sure he eases the bead a fraction higher, increasing the bite by just a hair’s breadth, but it’s enough to push me to the edge of my endurance.

  “Amber…” I whisper.

  “Yes, amber. Now for the other one. Do you want to close your eyes again?”

  I do. This time seems quicker, perhaps because I know what to expect. Dan’s handling of me is cool and efficient. There’s nothing cruel in his treatment, despite the pain he creates. His attention is focused wholly on me, on my responses. I know he’s aware of how I’m feeling even before I tell him. But I also know I have to use my safe word, he won’t stop otherwise. I bear the pressure, the pinching and merciless pulling on my tortured bud for as long as I can, concentrating on breathing as he told me before. When I can take no more, I mutter the one word that will stop it.

  “Amber.”

  This time, when I open my eyes, less tearful now, Dan drops a swift kiss on my lips. He doesn’t relinquish his tight grip on my nipple but he has stopped ramping up the pressure in response to my safe word. I watch in curious detachment as he slips the clamp on and slides the bead up to tighten it. His dark chocolate gaze never leaves mine until my lips part to tell him amber again. He stops, waits for the word, then sits back to look at my clamped breasts.

  “Very pretty. Exquisite even. Do you agree, Summer?”

  I look down, and despite my discomfort, which is actually diminishing by the second as my body adjusts, I have to agree with him. The nipple clamps are delicate and attractive, designed to decorate as well as create that vivid sensation I am starting to love. My nipples are tingling, they feel super-sensitive. As if reading my mind, Dan leans forward to blow on my right breast. His breath is a soft caress, trailing seductively over my tender peaks.

  I gasp as he flicks with his tongue, first one side, then the other. It feels so much more intense now, almost unbearable. With his eyes raised to hold my gaze, he takes my right nipple, the first one he clamped, between his lips. He holds it there, trailing the tip of his tongue across the swollen, hard bud in a gossamer light caress.

  “Oh, Sir…” I hadn’t intended to cry out, but couldn’t help it. Immediately conscious that we’re not alone in the house I bite my lip to prevent any further such lapse. I don’t suppose Dan will have any hesitation in gagging me, if need be.

  He shifts his attention to the other side, taking my left nipple into his mouth. This time he sucks, his touch light and delicate, but with devastating effect. His fingers are on my other nipple, brushing the tip with the softest of touches, just feathering across the sensitized skin.

  I lean back, not to escape, but because I’m no longer able to support myself. Dan allows it, shifting with me as I lie on the bed, my arms still tied securely behind me.

  I’m moaning, writhing on the duvet, Dan’s mouth and fingers flicking and caressing my breasts. He palms the lower curve of my right breast to hold me still, lifting the clamped nipple to his mouth. He increases the suction, now grazing with his teeth. I’m silently praying that he won’t bite me, and at the same time pleading for him to. Mercifully, he doesn’t, at least not yet. He releases my peak and rolls to lie alongside me, propped on his elbow as he looks down at my face. He feathers the backs of his knuckles across each of my quivering buds, smiling as I arch under his hand.

  “Just a few more minutes, this first time. Shall we try the clit clip now?”

  “Does that hurt as much? When you put it on?” Not that this will stop me. Just asking.

  “No, clit clips are for fun. Jewelry almost. May I?” He picks up the one remaining object, this one shinier than the nipple clamps. It looks to be made of gold, or some metal similar in appearance, and has glittering beads dangling from the end of each arm.

  He smiles at me. “You’ll love this. Spread your legs wide.”

  I do it instantly, bending my legs at the knees and planting my feet as far apart as I can. Dan taps my ankle, signaling me to shift my foot a bit higher toward my bum. I do that, mirroring the action with my other leg. Sitting alongside my hip now Dan turns to face slightly away from me. He leans to get a better view of my pussy, which I know must be gleaming decadently and thoroughly wet.

  “Someone’s eager. I brought some lube, but we won’t be needing it.” To illustrate his point he draws his fingers the length of my pussy, from my arse to my swollen clit.

  My response is a strangled sob. I so don’t want to be gagged, but much more of this…

  “Did that feel good?” He turns to regard my face.

  I nod franticly.

  “And this?” He does it again, but this time slowing the motion and dipping his finger tip into my entrance. He glances back at me for confirmation.

  “Dan, please, I…”

  “Sir. It’s Sir when we’re in a scene. Pleased try to remember that, however aroused you are. Now, answer my question.”

  “I apologize, Sir. Yes, it feels fabulous.”

  “I agree. And you look fabulous too. You’ll be even more beautiful wearing this.” He places the clit clip on my stomach, returning his attention to my throbbing pussy.

  “Would you like to watch this?” He turns to face me again.

  I frown, uncertain what he means.

  “Don’t move a muscle. He stands and goes over to the en suite, returning moments later with a round shaving mirror. The magnifying type. He positions that on the bed, angling it to provide me with the best view possible.

  “Okay?” He raises one enquiring eyebrow.

  I lift my head to be able to look in the mirror, and nod my agreement. I do indeed have a splendid view, my pussy in all its cherry-pink glory, aroused and throbbing, spread out for my Dom.

  Turning slightly away from me again he parts my inner lips with one hand, peeling back the hood which shields my clit to display it proudly. I watch, fascinated, unsure whether his touch is more arousing, or the sight of his fingers stroking and opening me. It’s immaterial, the combined effect is devastating.

  “Sir, I’m going to come. May I…” He hasn’t told me not to, but I’m conscious of the need to seek permission.

  “No. You’ll wait until the clip is in place.”

  “I don’t think I can. Please, Sir, if you touch me like that I can’t help …”

  “You know I’ll touch you however I please. And you will remain still, and only orgasm if I give you permission. You know I’ll punish you if you come before I tell you to, don’t you?”

  I chew on my lip, closing my eyes against the erotic sight of Dan’s hands caressing my exposed clit. Desperate, I cast around the far reaches of my brain for a list to write, or maybe I could try to recite the alphabet backwards.

  “Don’t you dare, little sub. I want your full attention. Now.”

  How does he know this stuff?

  His tone is hard, cool, all Dom. I open my eyes, but my gaze is on him now rather than the mirror. All my senses are attuned to what he’s doing to me and on my desperate efforts to suppress my response. Long, agonizing moments later he turns to pick up the clit clip, still perched beside my navel. Despite my concerns about an uncontrolled orgasm, my eyes are drawn back to the mirror. I watch, holding my breath as Dan tugs my clit, his actions firm and deft. He slips the small metal gadget over it. The arms close around the swollen bud trapping the blood there and holding it stiff and proud. He releases the clip to allow the beads to dangle tantalizingly on each side of my entrance before he turns to look at me.

  “Well done. Do you like your new bling?”

  “I do, Sir.” I wriggle, causing the beads to swing and glitter. The sensation on my clit is indescribable. Certainly not painful, though I can feel the pressure. My clit is quivering, aching to be touched. I need Dan to do it. Or
release my hands so I can do it myself.

  “Please, it feels, I mean, would you…”

  “Who are you talking to, Summer?”

  “You, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “I warned you of the consequences if you forgot yourself again. I won’t tolerate disrespect.”

  “I meant no disrespect, Sir. It’s just, I’m so…” My voice trails away as I run out of words to describe my predicament.

  “So fucking horny you can’t think straight.” I should have known Dan would be able to help.

  “That sounds about right, Sir.”

  “Little slut. You’re lucky I’m such an easy-going Dom or I’d be spanking you right now.”

  “Please, could you do that later, Sir? Right now I want you to lick my clit.”

  Dan’s eyebrow quirks, but he’s smiling. As long as I call him Sir it seems I can talk as dirty as I like, be as demanding as I like.

  “Say please, my slut.”

  “Please, Sir.” My eyes are screwed up tight now, my clit and pussy throbbing as my desperation mounts. “Please. Please. Please.”

  “I almost faint with relief as he shifts on the bed, positioning himself between my legs. His hands on my inner thighs, he leans in to flick the tip of my clit with his tongue. “Like this, slut?”

  “More, Sir. Harder, please.”

  He licks me with the flat of his tongue, causing the beads to tickle my inner lips as the clip shifts slightly.

  “Oh, God. God, God. God,” I mutter, throwing my head back as the familiar clench of orgasm starts low in my pussy and quickly grips me.

  “Not God. Just Sir will do nicely.”

  “Sir. Sir. Sir. I need to come.”

  “Do it then.” Then there are no more words. He dips his head again to take my clit between his teeth, flicking it sharply with his tongue before sucking gently.

  I forget to breathe. All extraneous bodily functions are suspended as my orgasm seizes me and grabs hold hard. My pussy is spasming, and I could weep with gratitude when he plunges three slick fingers inside me to rub my G-spot. It’s perfect. Every detail, every sensation exactly right, just what I want, what I need. I thrust my hips upwards, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of everything. Dan delivers, thrusting his fingers in and out fast and sucking on my clit until my orgasm peaks, then recedes. The warm afterglow is washing sweetly along my veins as he raises his head to drop a kiss on my stomach.