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Authors: Chastity Vicks
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pricking at those
first electric currents of compatibility, she’d realized that it was more than
that. Greg’s dominance was sensual, subtle…not the kind of crude, acquisitive
sadism her last partner had shown. Connor had only ever been interested in
making her do what he wanted for the sake of control. His demands had been
designed to exploit her submissiveness, to make her truly believe that she was
worthless, and the legacy of that still lingered in her.
On her last birthday, when Greg had presented her with a
silver play collar, Emily had cried. Not just at how beautiful it was and how
much the gesture meant, but at his kindness and at how badly she wanted to feel
worthy of it.
Now, as her fingers turned aside the layers of
heart-peppered wrapping, her throat tightened again and her stomach knotted in
anticipation. The box was much too big to be cuffs, so maybe a harness? He
loved the way she looked in rope, framed for him, so perhaps that was it…a
leather harness, or maybe lingerie that he could enjoy tearing off her.
Sometimes they bought cheap pantyhose and bra sets for just that purpose, and
very little could match the peaks of intensity Emily hit when, with her wrists
and ankles tied tightly, Master ripped off her clothes and fucked her with the
torn rags still clinging to her body.
She pulled the paper clear and looked down at the plain
white box, a small frown denting her forehead. No store or brand logo, so maybe
it wasn’t something wearable. It was far too huge to be a toy though, wasn’t
it? Her gut flipped as she worried that it would be something too big,
something she couldn’t cope with…but Greg wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t
push her past her limits, wouldn’t make her do things she wasn’t equipped or
ready to do.
She trusted him, so she wasn’t at all prepared for what she
found when she lifted the lid of the box.
“Oh…”
Emily’s mouth froze around that little sound of confusion, a
maelstrom of disappointment, guilt and trepidation whirling inside her. Inside
the plain box sat something she’d never expected to see—a black poly-carbon
case that housed a violet wand, neatly gift-packaged and accompanied by a
series of complicated attachments, cables and a user manual.
It wasn’t what she wanted.
Damn it, he knew the thought of electro-play scared
her…why would he do this? And why today? Emily looked up at him, her dark eyes
wide and her lips bent around a soft sound halfway between protest and
heartbreak.
Greg just smiled.
“I know,” he said soothingly. “But I think you should try
it.”
Emily pouted. The lid of the box slipped from her fingers,
dropping to the coffee table and crinkling the discarded nest of wrapping
paper. She wanted to shout, to sulk and maybe cry, because of all the
inconsiderate, mean, unkind things… He knew she didn’t want this.
“I have tried it,” she said, dropping her gaze to the
floor because, despite how bad she felt, it still felt worse to disappoint him
with her ingratitude. “You know I’ve tried it. I hated it!”
The memory came back and she tensed against it, though she
was ready for it. Connor had been into the idea of electricity. He’d taken her
to a kink show once, marched her up to a booth where a guy was selling violet
wand kits and told him to show her what it was like. She’d been nervous to
start with—the idea was scary, and the wand itself had looked like a complex,
intimidating piece of gear, with a sharp metal tip on the end that had
frightened her—but Connor had grabbed her wrist and held out her arm and the
guy had zapped her just on the inside of the elbow.
Emily remembered the flood of pain, plus the shock and
humiliation that had washed through her as a little arrow-shaped mark bloomed
on her skin. She’d thought it wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t meant to be that
bad, was it? The fact Connor had just laughed—and the vendor had laughed, as
though they were both sharing some
first electric currents of compatibility, she’d realized that it was more than
that. Greg’s dominance was sensual, subtle…not the kind of crude, acquisitive
sadism her last partner had shown. Connor had only ever been interested in
making her do what he wanted for the sake of control. His demands had been
designed to exploit her submissiveness, to make her truly believe that she was
worthless, and the legacy of that still lingered in her.
On her last birthday, when Greg had presented her with a
silver play collar, Emily had cried. Not just at how beautiful it was and how
much the gesture meant, but at his kindness and at how badly she wanted to feel
worthy of it.
Now, as her fingers turned aside the layers of
heart-peppered wrapping, her throat tightened again and her stomach knotted in
anticipation. The box was much too big to be cuffs, so maybe a harness? He
loved the way she looked in rope, framed for him, so perhaps that was it…a
leather harness, or maybe lingerie that he could enjoy tearing off her.
Sometimes they bought cheap pantyhose and bra sets for just that purpose, and
very little could match the peaks of intensity Emily hit when, with her wrists
and ankles tied tightly, Master ripped off her clothes and fucked her with the
torn rags still clinging to her body.
She pulled the paper clear and looked down at the plain
white box, a small frown denting her forehead. No store or brand logo, so maybe
it wasn’t something wearable. It was far too huge to be a toy though, wasn’t
it? Her gut flipped as she worried that it would be something too big,
something she couldn’t cope with…but Greg wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t
push her past her limits, wouldn’t make her do things she wasn’t equipped or
ready to do.
She trusted him, so she wasn’t at all prepared for what she
found when she lifted the lid of the box.
“Oh…”
Emily’s mouth froze around that little sound of confusion, a
maelstrom of disappointment, guilt and trepidation whirling inside her. Inside
the plain box sat something she’d never expected to see—a black poly-carbon
case that housed a violet wand, neatly gift-packaged and accompanied by a
series of complicated attachments, cables and a user manual.
It wasn’t what she wanted.
Damn it, he knew the thought of electro-play scared
her…why would he do this? And why today? Emily looked up at him, her dark eyes
wide and her lips bent around a soft sound halfway between protest and
heartbreak.
Greg just smiled.
“I know,” he said soothingly. “But I think you should try
it.”
Emily pouted. The lid of the box slipped from her fingers,
dropping to the coffee table and crinkling the discarded nest of wrapping
paper. She wanted to shout, to sulk and maybe cry, because of all the
inconsiderate, mean, unkind things… He knew she didn’t want this.
“I have tried it,” she said, dropping her gaze to the
floor because, despite how bad she felt, it still felt worse to disappoint him
with her ingratitude. “You know I’ve tried it. I hated it!”
The memory came back and she tensed against it, though she
was ready for it. Connor had been into the idea of electricity. He’d taken her
to a kink show once, marched her up to a booth where a guy was selling violet
wand kits and told him to show her what it was like. She’d been nervous to
start with—the idea was scary, and the wand itself had looked like a complex,
intimidating piece of gear, with a sharp metal tip on the end that had
frightened her—but Connor had grabbed her wrist and held out her arm and the
guy had zapped her just on the inside of the elbow.
Emily remembered the flood of pain, plus the shock and
humiliation that had washed through her as a little arrow-shaped mark bloomed
on her skin. She’d thought it wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t meant to be that
bad, was it? The fact Connor had just laughed—and the vendor had laughed, as
though they were both sharing some
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