I Is For... by L. DuBois

Author:L. DuBois [DuBois, L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781941641347
Goodreads: 42272612
Publisher: Farm Boy Press
Published: 2018-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

He watched her carefully, monitoring her breathing, the movement of her hands and toes, the set of her mouth. He was alert to any sign of distress.

For someone he would have easily classified as a “hardcore” submissive, she’d had a strong reaction to the restrictive bondage he’d used to achieve immobilization. It made sense once she described how she normally played.

Some part of him was reveling in being the first man to push her in this particular way. Having a sub trust him, having her dependent on him, got his motor running.

Knowing that lack of contact might be hard for her, Alexandre kept his hand on her—thumbing the curve of her breast, stroking her abdomen.

He’d started the evening thinking of this as a game, of Chastity as his opponent, but that no longer seemed to fit. Not that he normally thought of his subs as his opponents. The only reason the word had occurred to him was because of the checklist “game.”

“Check in,” he commanded.

“I…I don’t know.” The words were slightly muffled. The posture collar kept her from opening her mouth all the way.

“You don’t remember your safe word?” He went tense, ready to start ripping the bindings free. None of these had quick-release mechanisms the way some suspension cuffs did, but he could move fast when he needed to. He’d start with the blindfold and collar.

“I remember, but I don’t know…I don’t know what color I am.”

He relaxed fractionally. “What are you feeling?”

“Scared—I can’t move. I can’t see. I can’t breathe.”

“You can breathe. Breathe with me. Inhale… Good, now exhale.”

He led her through a few cycles of mindful breathing. He’d done it hundreds of times before as he helped the men and women he trained calm down and focus before a dangerous stunt.

He watched the way her chest pressed into the straps as she inhaled, watched her breasts rise and fall.

His cock was rock-hard in his pants. Seeing her bound and helpless was pushing him to a level of arousal he hadn’t felt in a long time. He regularly put submissives in restrictive bondage—bent over a chair with their arms and legs wrapped in rope, their pussy and ass exposed and vulnerable—was a personal favorite.

This position was objectively less submissive—she was standing upright, arms and legs spread, but he only really had access to her clit and her breasts. Because of the angle of her hips it would be hard for him to finger fuck her and impossible for him to slide his cock into her, at least while he had the cross in the upright position.

Yet Chastity in bondage was arousing him to the point of pain.

Later, he could fully analyze it—was it because she’d challenged him, so the contrast of her behavior in the previous scene with her current vulnerability was more alluring? Did he find her near-panic arousing, and if yes, was it because he’d caused it, or because he was the one calming her, “protecting” her from her distress?

“Where are you?” he asked again.

“I’m…green.”

“Be honest, with yourself and with me.

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