Three Strikes (Desire Island 3) - Page 31

On the fifth day, Master Ryan strapped Abbie on her back on the bondage table. Her arms were stretched back over her head, her wrists bound together, her legs spread wide. He left her a moment, returning with a small rectangular case. He opened it, turning it so she could see the contents: a set of beautiful stainless-steel knives.

Abbie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She was no stranger to knife play, but it had always been in the context of a playful, public scene. She wasn’t afraid of blood, per se, but nevertheless, a very real spurt of raw fear shot through her veins and made her heart race as she stared at the blades.

Master Ryan didn’t speak. It was understood that she would accept whatever he had in mind for her, and she did want to. Beneath her fear, a dark, sensual eroticism moved like molten lava through her body, stiffening her nipples and moistening her cunt.

Master Ryan set down the case and produced a sleep mask blindfold, which he slipped over her eyes. This increased both her fear and her arousal tenfold.

She felt his hand, warm and comforting, over her pounding heart. “Shh,” he murmured gently, his mouth near her ear. “Slow down. Use your breathing to calm yourself. You belong to me, and you know I’ll keep you safe.”

He kept his hand on her heart, his touch reassuring. Abbie took deep breaths and let them out slowly until her submissive calm returned to her.

“That’s better,” Master Ryan said approvingly.

Then she felt the cold, sharp point of a knife at her jugular and she again forgot to breathe.

“Trust,” Master Ryan murmured. “Surrender.”

The knife dragged down her throat, its touch sharp but not painful as it drew along her skin. He ran the flat of the chilly steel blade along her neck, over her breasts and around her nipples.

She managed to remain quiet until then, but she squealed when the pinprick of the knife’s sharp point poked first one nipple, then the other. She settled again as the knife resumed its downward journey over her abs and belly, though she couldn’t control her trembling body.

When the steel slipped between her legs, the tip lightly grazing her labia, she panted, her heart racing with both terror and desire. The combination of feelings was far more potent than either emotion on its own.

The knife was withdrawn, returning again to scrape along her calves and the sensitive soles of her feet. Then it journeyed back over her body, making her jerk when the steel grazed her underarms.

Time lost its meaning. There was only now. Her entire being was focused on the sharp, cold blade moving over her sweat-sheened skin. Finally, he removed the blindfold.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the glint of the steel against the top of her right breast and felt its cold touch on her skin.

“This will be strike three for today,” he murmured in a sexy, throaty voice, his deep blue eyes trained on her face. Abbie had come to both love and crave the thrice-daily ritual, which reinforced her total submission. “Lift your head so you can watch, but then stay perfectly still. I’m going to cut you, just once.”

A burst of adrenaline galvanized her heart and set it galloping. Her safeword leaped to the tip of her tongue, but through sheer will, she kept silent. Summoning her yoga training, she breathed through her fear, freeing her to acknowledge her fierce desire to submit in this intense, visceral way.

Lifting her head, she focused on the shiny, sharp blade poised above the pale skin of her breast. A deep, submissive calm settled over her as he repositioned the edge of the knife lightly against her flesh.

Then he pressed, sending a sudden, sharp bite of pain through her nerve endings, gone as quickly as it had been delivered. She watched in fascination as the blood beaded along the small, neat cut.

He dipped his head and licked the blood away, the gesture at once primal and deeply sensual. When the bleeding had stopped, he gently cleaned the nick and smeared soothing antibiotic ointment over it.

She waited expectantly for him to let her up. She very much wanted him to take her into his arms. But instead, he moved down to the end of the table, leaned forward over her and placed his mouth at her sex.

She closed her eyes, moaning softly as his warm, soft tongue snaked over her clit. Lifting his head a moment, he said, “Permission is granted in advance. I want you to come for me.”

His hands on her inner thighs, he licked and suckled her to an orgasm so powerful she actually blacked out for a few moments. She came back to herself as he was releasing the leather restraints.

“I’m very proud of you,” he said as he lifted her tenderly from the table.

Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic
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