Under His Control – No Safeword Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Kink Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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“Yes, Master Jordan,” she said.

As if on cue, both men rose to their feet, each hoisting a gear bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get this party started,” Curtis said. He turned to Jordan. “You two have fun.” He put his arm proprietarily around Kayla’s shoulders. “I have to discipline a very naughty nurse.”

As Kayla and Curtis headed to the medical playroom, Jordan and she made their way into the main dungeon. It was still relatively early, and they had their pick of several free scene stations. Jordan stopped in front of an overhead suspension rack with several hooks dangling from it.

“Take off your shoes and stand under the rack, arms fully extended overhead, wrists touching.”

As Ellen obeyed, Jordan set down his gear bag. He removed several hanks of rope and set them in a neat row along the edge of the mat. Selecting one of the hanks, he unwound and wrapped it around Ellen’s arms from elbow to wrist, securing it with a knot and tying the ends to the hook over her head.

As always, the feel of rope calmed Ellen. She was glad she’d decided to come out tonight. So far, this guy seemed to know what he was doing.

Standing in front of her, he fixed her with another of what she assumed was supposed to be a smoldering gaze, his eyebrows working. “What’s your safeword?”

Refusing to think about the last man who had asked her that, she replied, “Lemon.”

“Lemon,” he repeated. “Got it.”

Then, eyes still on her face, he reached suddenly into the bodice of her corset with both hands and pulled her breasts free.

Ellen drew in a startled breath. Her nipples stiffened in the relatively cool air of the dungeon.

His eyes still hooded, Jordan smiled as he mauled her breasts with rough fingers. “Good,” he said, nodding in apparent approval. “They’re real. I can’t stand fake tits.”

Abruptly letting them go, he leaned down and grabbed another hank, this one of thinner rope. Returning to stand in front of her, he wrapped the rope in two turns around the base of each breast, fumbling a little as he worked. Eventually he got the job done, tying the ends together behind her back.

Taking a step back, he pursed his lips as he regarded his handiwork. “Nice rope work, if I say so myself,” he observed.

He didn’t check in with her to see if the ropes were too tight or if she had any other issues, which surprised her, given his claim of expertise. The ropes were quite tight, but nothing she couldn’t tolerate for a while. Her breasts pulsed pleasantly in their confines. She decided to just go with the flow and see where it led.

Turning to his gear bag again, he withdrew a large, heavy-tressed flogger. Returning to her, he snapped it noisily in the air, as if expecting her to flinch. She waited silently, eager to feel the brush of leather on her flesh.

Taking a step back, he flicked the tresses over her bound breasts in a stinging stroke.

“Ah,” Ellen breathed, her skin tingling in anticipation of more.

He swished the stinging leather in a pattern, alternating between breasts until Ellen’s mind emptied, her body settling into itself as it absorbed the welcome erotic pain.

Moving behind her, he said, “Nice ass.” He slapped it. “A little big, but nice.”

The rather rude comment threw her momentarily out of her masochistic pleasure fog. She forgot to take offense as he commenced flogging her ass in hard, steady strokes, the force of his blows causing her to sway forward with each impact.

“I own you,” he growled as he flogged her. “Your body is mine to whip and bind and use as it pleases me.”

For now, a decidedly unsubmissive voice in her head silently replied. As long as you keep giving me what I need.

He stopped after a while, returning to stand in front of her, his color high, his breathing fast. His erection was visibly bulging between his legs.

She could have handled more—a lot more—but she would take what she could get. “Thank you, Master Jordan,” she said sincerely.

“You’re welcome, slave,” he replied imperiously.

He was no Master Damon, but it had definitely been better than nothing. She had needed that.

But her breasts were now aching unpleasantly in their confines, the pressure too much to handle. Glancing down, she saw that they were purple.

He followed her gaze. “Guess I better get you down so you can thank me properly.”

By the time he got all the rope untied and off her, Ellen had come down from her brief endorphin high. Her arms tingled unpleasantly as the blood flow returned. Her breasts still ached and her ass and thighs were smarting.

But instead of offering aftercare, Jordan pointed to the mat. “On your knees.”

Ellen obeyed as he yanked open his fly and pulled out his sizable cock. Tapping her lips with the head, he commanded, “Open wide.”


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