At least he wasn’t questioning.
That would be a serious mood killer.
Wrists went into leather straps, feet went into stirrups, and then leather straps secured her ankles. Michael ran his fingers up the inside of her leg, making her squirm a little as his fingertips brushed over her sensitive skin. She also felt a trickle of dread as he neared her pussy, but she trusted he remembered her hard limits.
No touching the top of her mound.
For just a moment, she felt dragging fingers pulling on hair that no longer existed, and she shuddered as her skin crawled, fear welling in her chest. Michael stilled immediately, his fingertips soft against her inner thigh.
“What is it?”
Dammit.
“Just…” She hesitated, wetting her suddenly dry lips with her tongue. “You’re getting close to my mound.”
His eyes softened. “I remember your limits, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“I know that… it was just a physical reaction.”
Tilting his head to the side, Michael studied her, and Ellie flushed, suddenly feeling vulnerable in a not very good way. She was on the verge of saying yellow when he spoke again.
“Would a lighter or firmer touch make you more comfortable?”
“Firmer,” she said immediately, her words almost a plea. Anything but dragging fingers. It was too close to feeling like her skin was crawling.
Watching her closely, Michael immediately dug his fingers into her thigh, massaging the muscle, and Ellie closed her eyes as her body relaxed.
“What color are you, Ellie?”
“Green,” she said, with a little sigh. She’d prefer not to spend their entire scene saying colors, but she understood why he needed a little reassurance right now, and she was happy to give it to him, especially if he kept massaging her legs. Slowly, his hands moved higher, bringing them closer together, but that didn’t bother her at all.
The firm, stroking motions of his fingers felt good, even as he neared her mound, and she didn’t have a single moment of dread or even trepidation, not a single flicker of memory. Just pleasure. She sighed happily. This was good.
His hands curved over her hips, sliding up her body to her breasts, and Ellie arched a little. Part of her was almost sad he hadn’t continued the firm kneading onto her mound… she thought it actually might not have bothered her as long as he’d continued the motions he’d been using, which were nothing like scrabbling fingers. As he cupped her breasts, kneading the soft flesh, the bad memories slid even further away, and Ellie relaxed further, moaning a little as his fingers plucked at her nipples.
“I know blindfolds are on your soft limits, but how would you feel about wearing one this evening?” Michael asked, his voice deep and almost hypnotic as he continued to massage her breasts, which were starting to feel swollen and achy. “I’d like to indulge in some sensory play with you.”
Curiosity rose. Ellie hadn’t ever really been interested in sensory play. Impact play was what she was used to and what she enjoyed, but… well, it was Michael.
“Will you still whip me a little?” she asked, her voice almost wistful as she opened her eyes to look at him.
Chuckling, Michael pinched her nipples and made her squirm. “If you’re a good girl.”
This time her wiggle was deliberate and provocative, lifting her chest further into his hands.
“I can be a good girl.”
“Okay then, good girl, I’ll get the blindfold.”
Not being able to see didn’t bring up any bad memories, she just didn’t usually like feeling quite so vulnerable. She liked being able to see what was coming. But, with Michael, she felt vulnerable in a good way. It was a little scary, but the kind of scary that made her heart beat just a little faster, her nipples pucker, and her breathing become more shallow in anticipation.
The blindfold was a good one, it shut out all of the light even under her eyes, leaving her completely blind.
Soft lips pressed gently against hers. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She blushed. “Not like I haven’t been blindfolded with you before.”
“I thought we were pretending you didn’t know it was me,” he teased, and then his hands closed around her breasts, warm and firm, but somehow rubbery, as he kneaded her soft flesh, avoiding her nipples. It took her a moment to realize the rubbery texture of his hands was because he was wearing plastic gloves. To give the medical thing more realism?
