Mastering Kyla (Stone Cellar Erotica) Read Online Free PDF Page A

begun.”

 
    Chapter 4
    Kyla took the hand that Jackson offered. He helped her to her feet and led her to the strange piece of furniture she’d noticed earlier. He positioned her at one end of the sawhorse and pointed at the two lower padded ledges.
    “Put your knees there and bend over the bench.”
    “Yes, sir.” Kyla placed her knees on the padded ledges and leaned over the top of the sawhorse—bench—whatever it was, placing her hands on the leather padding that covered it.
    “No,” Jackson said. He put his hand between Kyla’s shoulder blades and pushed her firmly down so that her entire torso, from her chest to her mound, was pressed against the leather. “Now, put your hands here.”
    Jackson pointed to the other padded ledges on the side nearest to Kyla’s head. She found that they were at the perfect height for her to rest her forearms against them, curling her hands over the front edge as he directed. Jackson knelt down in front of her and strapped her wrists to the bench with those leather cuffs. Then he walked around behind her. He took one of her feet in his hands and slid her knee forward until the top of her foot was touching the frame of the bench. He strapped her ankle there with another cuff and moved to the other side.
    With her legs positioned firmly on the bench, Kyla felt spread even wider than she had when Jackson was fucking her in the alley.
    And then Kyla discovered there were two more leather straps she hadn’t noticed. Jackson fastened one around her waist, pulling the leather tight until she was barely able to wiggle on top of the bench. She gave a little moan of fear.
    Jackson put a hand on her back, comforting her. “Remember. If it gets to be too much, use your safe word.”
    Kyla nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Jackson reached under the bench near her head and pulled the last strap around her neck. This strap he left loose enough that it didn’t interfere with her breathing at all—but it eliminated the last bit of mobility she had on the bench. She was well and truly bound to this thing, and that knowledge filled her with an almost schizophrenic mix of anticipation and dread.
    Jackson left her and crossed to the bookshelf. She couldn’t turn her head to see what he was picking up. In a few moments he had returned to her. Kyla waited, knowing she was at his mercy.
    “Kyla, have you ever been butt-fucked?”
    Kyla’s heart turned over in her chest. Instinctively she struggled against the bonds holding her, suddenly feeling trapped in a way she hadn’t moments before.
    “Answer me,” Jackson said. A stern note entered his voice. It froze Kyla in her struggles.
    “No, sir.” Kyla felt her face flushing with horror. Butt-fucked? Was he kidding?
    Instead of speaking, Jackson slipped two fingers into her wet folds. Kyla, unprepared for this penetration, gasped. Jackson worked his fingers in her and Kyla felt the now-familiar burn of a slowly approaching orgasm.
    “Oh, sir.” Kyla struggled in vain, unable to escape the thrusting of Jackson’s fingers. But she was also afraid, knowing Jackson wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t intend to do something. “I’ve never had anything in—” Kyla had to bite back a scream as Jackson’s fingers found the tight bundle of nerves in her clit and worked it relentlessly. “I don’t think I can—”
    “Trust me, Kyla.” Jackson withdrew his fingers suddenly and Kyla slumped against the bench. She felt something warm and slippery cascading down between her cheeks, and something small and firm pressing against the tight ring of her anus.
    Kyla groaned in terror and strained against the leather cuffs holding her nearly perfectly still. “Sir, please. Please—”
    But Jackson ignored her. He pushed the object into her ass, inch by inch.
    “Relax, Kyla. This is a butt-plug, and it will go in a lot easier if you stop clenching.”
    “I can’t.” Kyla panted with the effort of fighting him. “It’s too... it’s too