Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 20: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Twenty

My Master disappears from the room, to return a minute or so later with his briefcase and a bowl of ice cubes. Grinning wickedly, he opens the case, pointedly turning it with the lid facing back to me, so that I cannot see the contents. However, I recognise the spreader bar he produces. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Quickly he shackles my ankles into the bar, spreading my legs apart so that I hover with difficulty between standing and supporting my weight on the cuffs. I am now stretched upwards, legs spread and my Master is able to circle me.

He almost prowls around me. “Beautiful.” Coming close, he circles my waist with one arm, kisses me again on the mouth then “Do you know what I find most appealing about you, Elizabeth?”

Biting my lip with increasing arousal and anticipation, I shake my head. My Master slips his fingers between my legs, parts my lips with his fingers and tweaks my clit. As I yelp in response, he says, “You love to be fucked. You have no idea how much of a turn-on that is.”

And he plunges two fingers into my wet pussy, grinding up and forward to my g-spot. Working the fingers hard, he rubs and probes at my inner walls and I grow hot and slippery in response.

Teetering, stretched between cuffs on my wrists and cuffs on my ankles, I am supported by my Master with an arm at the waist, while he kneads me from the inside. My hips buck and my legs threaten to buckle. I cannot fall, suspended as I am, but it is comforting to be held close by him. A wet trickle trails down inside my legs and the tension of my taut arms leaves me feeling wired, almost electrified.

A voice in my ear: “What would you like to happen next?” he whispers, his hand all the time inside me, stretching me open, alternately massaging and rubbing.

“I don’t know Master,” I gasp. “I just wanted to give you a nice birthday present.”

He chuckles. “Consider it given. Now I’ll see how I can return the favour.”

Backing off a little he starts playing with the laces of my bodice. “Time to unwrap my present I think.” One loop at a time, he slowly unlaces the bodice. With my arms raised high and my legs awkwardly hobbled, as the silky green fabric parts, it reveals my stomach, stretched flat, my already slender waist cinched in tight by my position and, although my heavy breasts fall free, they too are raised slightly upwards, swinging under their own weight, the nipples now bright red with arousal.

My Master fetches a couple of ice cubes from the bowl. Coming close again he says, “A little titillation first, I think. You already look good enough to eat, but we can improve things. Let’s see if I can perk things up a bit more.”

Gripping a cube between thumb and forefinger, he circles it around first one nipple and then the other, making me gasp and wriggle. Each nipple responds by puckering up, standing out hard and erect. My Master alternates between them, circling one with ice while pinching the other. My pussy produces a constant juicy trickle now and my inner thighs are hot from combined desire and the strain of trying to remain upright.

He stands back, examining my breasts and nipples, surveying his handiwork. My whole chest, neck and face are flushing red and I glisten with sweat.

“Too good not to taste,” he says, stooping to suckle from me, his hand sliding over my taut belly with the ice cubes. He moves slowly, and the chilly water of the melting ice oozes down to my now swollen pussy lips, electrifying me with the contrast between the icy stimulation and my hot pussy juices. His hand continues downwards, never stopping in one spot, but circling and weaving over my skin.

Taking one nipple between his teeth, he bites gently, nibbling at me whilst at the same time, he is slipping the dripping ice and his cold fingers down past my pulsing clit towards my dripping cunt.

Retrained as I am, I can only writhe against it, moaning and panting. “That’s good,” he says. “Ready now, I think.”

From the box he removes the nipple clamps, setting them to pinch a little. Dangling from the end of my sweating breasts, he flicks them with one finger, testing for effect. The sensation is fantastic, and I cry out in response to the electric thrill they send shooting through me, down through my belly to my sex.

“I think you can take more than that,” he comments, and adjusts the clamps to pinch a little harder, then after a brief search of the box produces a chain. Connecting one clamp loosely to the other with the chain, at first it feels only like a little extra weight, but then he lifts the chain from the centre and slots it between my teeth. “Keep that there. And now, Madam, hold still, or you will really feel it.”

My Master strips off his shirt, his leanly muscled arms and naked chest gleaming with perspiration, the fabric of his jeans straining at the crotch. “What to start with?” he muses, holding the crop in one hand and the flogger in the other.

“This I think,” he says, taking the flogger, and he whips the soft leather lashes through the air to make a soft cracking noise.

He flicks it across my stomach, not hard, but I feel the sharp lick of the flail over my skin. He circles me, again flicking across my buttocks, lightly at first. I see him watching my face for a reaction, testing me. “I’d like to redden that beautiful ass of yours, Elizabeth. How do you feel about that?”

I am all but speechless with arousal. I nod, then wince and yelp as the movement pulls sharply at my clamped and chained nipples.

“I told you to stay still. However, you must tell me if anything is too much. Do you understand Elizabeth? You must tell me.”

I nod again, more carefully.

“What will you say if you want me to stop?”

What will I say? My mind glazes over for a moment, but of course, my Master is right. What will I say?

Speaking carefully through the chain in my mouth, I say “Please Master, I will say ‘Redhead’”

He laughs. “That will do nicely.” And with a jerk of his wrist, he lashes at my buttocks. The tiny green lace panties offer no resistance. The lash stings and I yelp and flinch, once more pinching my nipples as the chain pulls taut, but in the same moment, my pussy gushes. I do not speak but hang from my wrists trembling and moaning. My Master waits for a moment, then repeats the lash. I gasp and jerk and writhe in my bonds but I do not want him to stop. He is behind me, so I cannot look him in the eye. Instead, I arch my back, trying to present my ass as an invitation for more. My head flings back with the movement, sending pain-pleasure rippling through my nipples as the chain tugs at the clamps, but now I want more of this exquisite torment-titillation from my Master.

“Your ass looks gorgeous like that, Elizabeth. Beautiful red weals on that perfect white skin.”

He moves around me, stalking, almost cat-like. This time he lashes a thigh, and a couple of the fronds curl around my leg, sharply kissing my crotch. I squeal and gasp, but I want more. My Master is watching me carefully but sees that still, I want him and his delicious pain and he lashes at me once more. This time the lash reaches squarely between my thighs, stinging clit, lips and cunt. The pleasure is agonising, the pain delicious.

My knees collapsing, I scream and gush again.

“Do you want me to stop, Elizabeth?”

I can barely speak, and my voice comes out almost as a shriek. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me!”

“In a while.” He lashes again, this time across my breasts and now, painfully sensitised and swollen nipples. The cords of the lash jerk at the nipple clamps sending fire shooting through me, and once more, I scream.

“You want to be fucked do you?” says my Master. “Let’s get rid of these then.” He drops to his knees and, as I anticipated, pulls apart the laces of my sodden panties with his teeth, growling as he does so. Discarding the panties, he laps at me, his tongue trailing my thighs, my red curls, my engorged lips, licking away my honey, before briefly sucking on my clit.

It is divine.