The Mistress ✓

24

As soon as my fingers bury in her hair, she yanks her face away, shaking her head.

"You just can't follow orders."

She rises to her feet and comes around the desk, then reaches for my hands.

"What---"

"You'll see."

She wraps my wrists in cushion-lined leather cuffs connected by an intricate chain. Robyn pushes my spine back down to the surface of her desk and guides my bound hans over my head, clipping them to a hook somewhere below.

She surveys my body like it's a feast spread out on her desk, waiting to be devoured.

The white dress now makes sense. I definitely feel like a sacificial offering.

"Now I can eat that pussy in peace, and you can't stop me."

"If this is the part where you torture me with orgasms, I'm okay with that."

As soon as the admission is out, part of me wants to snatch it back, but something about it also fills me with power. Like on some level, I'm allowing Robyn this privilege. Maybe my mind is well and truly fucked, because the smile that crosses her face, smug yet secretive, only makes me want her to return to her interrupted task faster.

She shakes her head slowly from side to side like she doesn't know what to make of me, and that reinforces the shreds of power I'm grappling to hold on to.

When she crouches between my legs again, circling my clit with one thick fingertip, I writhe, bucking my hips up to increase the pressure determined to control the situation as much as I can from my position. I may be bound, but I don't feel helpless anymore. 

Robyn sucks my clit between her teeth and bites down just hard enough to send a jolt of desire laced with a hint of pain through my body. 

When she releases her teeth, a slight sting remains, but it's not pain. It's more complicated than that. If she keeps doing it, I'm going to come in the next sixty seconds. 

She tongues my entrance before licking up to my clit and nipping it again, and I moan, my head thrashing from side to side. Protests fall from my lips as her mouth recedes and she circles my clit with a fingertip again. 

"You love that. The bite of pain with your pleasure. The pressure on your clit constantly taking you to the edge. What if I could keep you on that edge all the time? Ready to come at a moments notice?"

I swallow, wondering where her diabolical mind is going. "What are you talking about?"

"An experiment." She reaches around the side of the desk and pulls out a package. I lift my head as much as I can with my arms in their bound position to see what she's doing. I see a flash of silver.

"What is that?"

"You'll see. Or feel, rather."

Cold metal drags across my heated center, and I know exactly what she has---some kind of clamp.

"Let's see how you like this." She closes it lightly over my swollen clit, sending my spin arching off the desk againg.

As quickly as the pressure came, it dissipates.

I want it back. Megan told me there's no shame if we're both willing, and as messes up as this is, I want mroe of what she's giving me. 

"I could make you wear a clamp twenty-four hours a day to remind you not to disobey, but that's not safe or healthy."

Those are the last words I expect to hear come out of her motuh, and I have no response. But when she stands and the pressure returns again, I'm edging toward an orgasm. She lets off once more.