DangerousLust Read Online Free PDF Page B

brushing my anus.
    I let out a little squeak of alarm. His fingers stilled.
    “I will use all your orifices, Leona.”
    “Yes, Master Clay.” I hoped I didn’t sound as scared as I
felt.
    “On your checklist you indicated anal sex and anal play as
something you were willing to try, but not something you’re excited about.”
    “Yes, Master Clay.”
    “Why?”
    “I…I have never done that before. It sounds painful and…and
gross.”
    He didn’t respond. I heard rather than saw him walk away.
Maybe that was the wrong answer. Twin bolts of fear and relief spiked through
me. Relief?
    I heard drawers opening and closing. Master Clay returned
holding a fist full of straps.
    “Wrists.”
    I held out my arms, curling my fingers around my thumbs so
the trembling wouldn’t be so obvious. One at a time Master Clay wrapped simple
leather cuffs around my wrists. They buckled closed and had D-rings embedded in
them.
    “Raise your arms. Hold them straight out at your side. Higher.
Good.”
    Next was a belt, about as wide as my palm. It too was
leather, and very stiff. I heard it creak as Master Clay manipulated it.
    “This is a posture belt. It makes slouching or bending
uncomfortable.” He settled it around my waist—my natural waist, higher up on my
belly than I would have thought.
    “It’s heavy.” The words popped from my mouth before I could
stop them. I caught my breath in fear—I’d spoken without permission.
    “That’s fine, Leona. I expect that the newness of these
experiences will inspire responses from you. This first time I will not punish
you for speaking, though I do expect you to be as silent as possible.”
    I shuddered in relief. “Thank you, Master Clay.”
    “Do you know what this is?” He held up the final thing he’d
brought over. It too was black leather, but was narrower than either the cuffs
or the belt.
    “Is it a collar?”
    “Yes. It is.” He stroked my neck with the back of one
finger. “Do you know what it means when a submissive is collared?”
    “It means the Master who collared her owns her,
permanently.”
    “Yes…and no. It means that the submissive has given over
control of her body and mind to the Dom. If he chooses to share her that is his
right.” Master Clay’s hand drifted to my breast. He flicked my nipple then
pinched it, hard. “If he chooses to give her away that is his right.” He raised
his hand, pulling me up by my nipple.
    I rose onto my toes. It hurt—far more than I’d expected—and
yet I was aroused. I dug my fingers into my thighs to stop myself from pushing
him away.
    “Does this hurt?”
    “Yes, Master Clay.”
    “And do I know that it hurts you? Do you think my causing
you pain is an accident?”
    “No, Master Clay. I think you know it hurts.” I spoke
quickly, trying not to take a deep breath.
    “That means that right now I want to hurt you. I want you to
feel pain.”
    “Yes, Master Clay.” The words wavered and I had the horrible
feeling that I was about to cry.
    His free hand forced its way between my legs. The movement
was rough and demanding. Two fingers dug into my pussy, sliding roughly over my
clit before forcing their way up into my body. Quick as a lightning strike,
pain morphed to not just pleasure but a dark enjoyment. Yes, he was hurting me.
It was forbidden—men should never hurt women—and yet Master Clay abused my
breast with impunity. It was as if the laws didn’t apply to him.
    When his thumb rubbed my clit while his fingers were buried
in me my whole belly clenched. It was a deep, throbbing pleasure—as if
everything else I’d ever felt was the waves breaking on the shore and this was
the deep darkness a mile under the surface of the ocean.
    “Do you feel that?”
    “Yes, Master, yes.”
    “What is it?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know.” Each word was a struggle. I
was caught between my desire to egg him on, to have him do something else,
something more, and my desire for him to stop toying with me and