Chapter 7

Sejal wiggled on the exam table. Whatever it was covered with, it wasn't the industrial vinyl of a real exam table, as her sweaty skin would have stuck to that. She was able to wiggle around without feeling like she was glued down, which was nice. Not that she could go far. With her legs spread and strapped to the stirrups and arms above her head, all she could really do was scoot back an inch so her lower back was resting on the reclined part of the table, and not strained. She flexed her teeth around the gag, hoping she wasn’t drooling, but knowing she probably was. He’d been right about that.

Master Dowell checked the Velcro bands at her ankles and calves, adjusting one so it was more secure. The ripping sound when he unfastened it was loud in the quiet room, and seemed to echo off the dungeon-like walls.

She should be afraid. He was a stranger, and she was helpless. Her lifeline was a little plastic box and flimsy bit of metal, and all it did was make a noise. It would be easy, ridiculously easy, for him to ignore her if she did use it as a safe word.

The logical part of her insisted that was always the case—that the clicker was no less "flimsy" than a verbal safe-word. Yet it felt different—darker and more dangerous. Maybe it was because it had been so long since she'd been the sub. Maybe it was because he was a stranger. Whatever it was, she was breathing a bit harder than normal, she was more aware of her own nakedness and the way she was exposed. When she'd "fought" him, pushing at him with her foot he hadn't backed off and frowned the way Hach would have. He'd grinned and then proved that he was more than capable of controlling her physically. He hadn't even been breathing hard while she'd been panting and thrashing.

She wanted to do it again. She wanted to feel him overpower her physically. Wanted him to force her down over a bed, table, chair, and then fuck her roughly.

Lost in that fantasy, she missed that he'd stooped to pick up something from his little bag of tricks. He pulled out a metal rod that was too thin to be a dildo. One end had a slight bend just before the round ball at the tip.

He laid the item on her stomach. It was cold and she shivered. It rolled down her body, stopping when it caught on her raised thighs. She peered at it, but despite being a well-versed BDSM player, she didn't recognize it.

Master Dowell rolled a stool over. She winced internally—they must have bought both the exam table and the stool from a medical supply company, because it was the kind of stool she rolled around exam rooms during consults. He positioned it between her legs, and then plopped down. He grinned at her, his too-handsome face marked by anticipation and desire. He leaned down and blew over her pussy.

Sejal's eyes fluttered closed.

“I have some lube, but I don’t think I’ll need it.”

Another stream of air touched her pussy. It was enough to make her aware of her own nakedness, and of how wet she was. It wasn’t enough to stimulate.

Picking up the metal wand-like item, he held it up then cocked a brow at her. The way he was holding it clued her in to what it was. A g-spot stimulator.

Once again she got a flash of discomfort as the scene veered towards medical play. Legs spread, heels in stirrups, a man on a rolling stool between her legs, silver implement in hand—if she concentrated on those aspects of their play enough she would mentally pull away. Sejal closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the physical instead. The heavy suspension cuffs weighed down her wrists. Saliva slipped from the corner of her mouth along her cheek to the corner of her jaw. Her nipples were hard points, still a little damp. She flexed her legs, listened to the small sounds the Velcro made as she pushed against it. That felt good so she did it again, this time straining in truth, her thigh muscles tight as she tried to pull her knees up to her chest. At the same time she drew her hands down until there was no slack in the restraints on her wrists. She flexed, but the bindings didn't move.

Master Dowell laid his hand between her breasts, and then slid it up, fingers encircling her throat. He did it exactly right, the V between his thumb and index finger centered over her larynx so he wasn't applying pressure to her windpipe at the same time that he pressed down gently on the sides of her neck.

"Submit," he demanded. "You are mine."

On the last word he squeezed a little tighter. She felt her pulse against his hands, felt the sweet beginnings of light-headedness.

His. Yes. She wanted to be his. Or maybe she just didn't want to be Hach's anymore.

His hand at her throat made it easy to ignore that thought, along with her dislike of medical play, and to sink into her bondage. Into her submission. She'd gone from pulling away to relaxed and accepting in less than a minute. It was dizzying and exciting the way she responded to him.

"Good. Well done. You're beautiful when you submit." He bent and pressed his lips to each nipple, the position bringing his bare stomach close to her spread, aching pussy—close enough she could feel the heat of his body, but not close enough to touch her. He flicked her left nipple with his tongue before resuming his seat. She felt the loss of his body heat keenly.

All business, he spread her pussy with one hand, his fingers making a V and holding her labia open. The round tip of the wand ran along the valley of her sex, bumping over her clit. The cold metal felt good against her hot skin, the temperature stimulating her as much as the light touch. The wand made a second pass, and this time he pressed hard, making her feel it, her clit smashed between the metal and her pelvic bone. She jumped, the touch a mix of pleasure and discomfort that wasn't enough to be true pain. He repeated the soft caress, the contrast between rough and gentle thrilling in some dark way. He was willing, able, to treat her both ways. This time when the tip of the wand slipped between her inner lips he didn't stop—he slid it into her in one firm, smooth movement.

Sejal moaned around the gag. She was tight with need and the ball seemed to stretch her open. It was good, but not enough. She wanted more.

He worked the wand into her with small thrusts, almost rocking it inside her. He stopped, adjusted the angle, and then started moving it again. This time, she twitched as he stroked her g-spot, that special place in her vagina whose existence had been hotly contested. Every woman who’d ever had a man curl his fingers inside her just the right way knew the g-spot was very real.

Master Dowell knew what he was doing.

Her inner thigh muscles twitched and fluttered as he bumped against the sensitive spot repeatedly. He must have been watching her, reading her reactions, because he once more adjusted his motions. Now the stimulator was moving in small, tight motions, moving less than an inch. Pleasure—muted, but pleasure nonetheless, pooled low in her belly. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation. Her brows knit, because it wasn't enough. It was good, but she was greedy. She opened her eyes, pressing her chin towards her chest so she could look at him, adding the visual stimulation of having an extremely sexy girlhood-fantasy-man-come-to-life between her legs. He was looking down at her more intimate and private flesh. His gaze was intense, focused, and he was breathing heavily, mouth slightly open. He liked looking at her pussy, liked studying her. Liked touching her.

She let those thoughts roll around her mind, savoring them as if they were a hard candy she could pop in her mouth.

It wasn't enough. It was good, but not enough.

His fingers still held her pussy open, and she shifted her hips, hoping his fingers would move, hoping he would touch her clit. The motion served to slide the metal wand a bit deeper into her. That took it off her g-spot, but having it deeper was its own kind of satisfaction.

He released the wand. For a moment, she thought it would slide out, but it didn't, only shifting within her so the handle pressed down heavily on the skin at the back of her entrance.

He slapped her inner thighs, six quick slaps, three on each side. "Hold still," he commanded.

She mumbled, then remembered the clicker, and clicked once. Feeling properly cowed, she promised herself she would be still. She didn't want to be punished. She wanted him to keep studying her.

He cared, she realized. He cared about her pleasure.

That lit something inside her, and though her thighs were still stinging from the punishing slaps, when he took hold of the wand once more, working it inside her until he once more found that perfect spot, she jumped and moaned around the gag. Spit rolled from the corner of her mouth, and when she arched her back, the trail of saliva slid just below her ear, stimulating the skin there.

The round ball slid inside her, rubbing her, pressing on her. She fought the urge to move, not wanting him to stop. It felt almost, almost, like she could come from this, but that pool of pleasure he was creating inside her never turned tumultuous and wild; instead it was as if she were now a deep well that he was filling with every small twitch of the wand inside her. But it wasn't just that—it was his gaze on her flesh, not as if he were examining her, but as if he wanted to know everything about her, wanted to touch her in just the right way.

She closed her eyes and floated in that deep sea of pleasure. It washed away some of her defenses, but also some of her hurt. A hurt she had only tangentially acknowledged until now.

She wanted to come—of course she did. She wanted her world to splinter and sparkle with the physical and emotional release of orgasm, but at the same time she didn’t want this to end.

It’s not your decision. That thought cut through her circular internal debate about whether she wanted the g-spot play to keep going.

She didn't need to choose if she wanted an orgasm or for the current stimulation to continue. Master Dowell would make that decision, all the decisions in the scene. Once again she relaxed into her submission, though she wasn't exactly relaxed. The wand rubbed softly inside her, an intimate and almost secret pleasure. He removed his right hand, so he was no longer holding her body open. Now it was only the g-spot wand.

"I like looking at you like this." His words were soft. "I know there's something going on in your head. I can see you thinking and worrying, then giving in. Accepting that I'm your Ma—your Dom."

She pressed her thumb down, clicking once. Yes.

"Maybe I'll keep you like this the whole weekend. Never letting you come, just playing with you. Touching every part of your pussy but your clit." He was breathing harder, as she was, his words as arousing as a physical stimulus. "Maybe I'll touch every part of your breasts but your nipples. Bite and lick you but never touch you where you want it most.”

Click, click. No.

He stopped the wand's small thrusts in and out, and instead pressed up, the ball pressing hard against her G spot. She could have lifted her hips to relieve the pressure, but instead she reveled in it.

His right hand settled on her crotch, palm over the mound of her vulva. His thumb brushed against her damp labia, then burrowed between. He found her clit and stroked it once.

Sejal jerked up in response to the intensity of the touch. It was a knee-jerk reaction, one she couldn't have stopped. That was how sensitive he'd made her, how aroused. He murmured soft words, things like "just relax" and "good girl" as he started to stroke her clit in earnest. He started a rhythm, his thumb moving in a steady pattern, circling over the top of her. The calm surface of the well of pleasure inside her was now rough and wild, like a white-capped sea. The straps creaked as her legs tensed. She pulled her arms down and buried her face against her arm. She bit down on the gag so hard her jaw started to ache. It was a good thing she had it, because if not she might have clamped her teeth onto the flesh of her own arm.

She couldn't hold still. Her ass bounced on the table as she jerked in rhythm with his finger on her clit. He still held the g-spot stimulator inside her, and feeling its long, hard length moving within her was added pleasure. She was going to come. She knew her body well enough to know how close she was, and that this was one of those orgasms that would make her legs shake and toes curl. They hadn't arranged a signal for "I'm close" so she clicked once, waited, then clicked once again. She hoped he understood.

He pulled the wand from within her, and Sejal's eyes, which had fluttered closed, flew open. She lifted her head, shaking it frantically. She hadn't been saying no. She didn't want this time to stop. If he stopped now, when she was so close to the edge of something wonderful, she might lose it.

The wand clattered to the floor with a metallic clang. Master Dowell surged to his feet, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright.

For a moment the sight of him overwhelmed her—he was too handsome, too intense. Too much for her. Not right for her.

Oh but he felt right.

His hand shifted, two fingers entering her, curling so the tips pressed her g-spot. Sejal's head fell back in both relief that he wasn't ending the scene, and pleasure. Her vaginal muscles clamped down on his finger. She wanted more, and if she hadn't been gagged she would have begged him to add another finger, to fill her up, to make it hurt because mingled pain and pleasure might be enough to satisfy the ravenous need inside her.

His thumb slid up the valley of her sex, finding her clit once more. Once his hand was in position he bent over her, planting his free hand on the table beside her ribs and then lowering his mouth to her breasts. He nipped the inner edges, and for a horrible moment she thought he'd do what he’d threatened to—to touch her everywhere but her nipples.

His thumb circled her clit faster, his fingers pumping inside her, and the wild sea within became a storm, a hurricane of pleasure and need and release. She screamed into the gag, body arching up into his so that for a moment the bare skin of her stomach met the hard planes of his chest. He licked his way to her nipple, sucked it into his mouth, and worked her clit harder. Sejal sobbed and moaned, through the orgasm. Her legs tensed, toes curled. Her scalp prickled and her entire lower body pulsed and clenched. Her vagina clamped down on him in rhythmic pulses. It went on for what seemed like ten minutes, though in reality was probably only one or two. The orgasm started to fade and she collapsed. His thumb kept circling her clit for a moment, but she was so sensitive it was painful. She winced, and was about to start clicking when he stopped. She pressed her chin against her chest so she could look at him. He still held her nipple in his mouth but he was watching her. He must have seen the wince and known to stop. He rose, like some mighty conqueror, her nipple slipping from between his teeth in a sweet spike of pleasure pain.

Keeping two fingers buried in her, he undid the straps on her legs with his free hand, his muscles flexing as he twisted.

The straps fell to the floor, but she didn't move her legs. They were weak and shaky.

Master Dowell pulled his fingers from her channel and then slowly untied the lacing on his leathers. Sejal would have licked her lips if not for the gag.

He shoved them down his thighs and his cock sprang out, hard and huge, with a fat plum-like head. He was circumcised, and wet with pre-come.

His gaze met hers, held it, as he scooped a hand under each knee. Pressing her legs together he positioned her heels on his right shoulder and wrapped his right arm around her thighs to hold them together.

The hot, blunt tip of his cock stabbed the back of her thigh, sliding until the tip was between her legs.

He started to thrust, his damp cock fucking the tight space between her legs. He paused once, pulling out, swiping his fingers through her wet pussy, and spreading that wetness along his cock before beginning again.

There was something sexy and raw about being used this way. She'd never had a man fuck her thighs before, and she liked it. Liked that he would take her body and use her the way he wanted. After only a few minutes his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. His free hand grabbed her breast, kneading as he leaned into her, pressing her knees towards her chest. His rhythm became uneven, as did his breathing. Then he grunted, color staining his cheekbones, and came, ejaculating on her thighs and stomach.

His stopped, sighed, and leaned his cheek against her foot. When he opened his eyes, his gaze found hers.

Something passed between them—at least she thought it did. Maybe she was being foolish. Maybe the orgasm, the intensity of what he'd made her feel and experience, made her see a connection that wasn't there. Or, worse, that was one sided.

Master Dowell kissed her ankle. Sejal's heart lurched.

Then he grinned at her—a wicked expression that made her tense with anticipation. "I think I like this game."