Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

she didn’t notice that she couldn’t see or hear. Her other senses were giving her so much, she could see them around her in every way that mattered. She felt the hold of the corset keenly, the power it gave her through its possession, and responded to it.

Lifting her head, she straightened her shoulders further. Using her heart and soul, she found the unique signature, the male scent she wanted, the one for whom she wore the corset. Adjusting her direction, she walked six steps, and knelt, bowing her head and holding up the leash. “Forgive me, Master.”

It was noisy, but not that noisy. He heard her. Peter stared down at her bowed head, the offered leash. She’d driven them all crazy with that performance. Hard as a rock, he was raging to put his claim on her. Lucas, Jon and Ben had all done what came naturally to them, and Peter had been satisfied with how it increased her desire. These men were capable of giving any woman the most intense orgasms of her life. He’d love to give her that gift . . . another night. She hadn’t been his long enough, and there was still too much ground to cover, before he would be willing to share more than this.

He’d had a bad moment when she jerked the leash away. He’d known she was more

hardcore, but that had been before. Afraid he’d gone too far, something in him had broken loose. Fuck, he didn’t care what the right thing was to do. He was going to do what he’d wanted from the first. Scoop her up, take her away, protect her from

everything. He couldn’t stand doing this to her, seeing her fear and pain.

It had been Jon who’d steadied him, placing a hand on his arm, giving him a steadying look before he stepped out and let Dana run into him first. And now, in those six steps she’d taken toward him, Dana had given herself a glimpse of what she could choose for herself. Maybe it would lead her to trusting him, not just for this scenario, but to the deepest levels of her soul, so eventually she might choose him. Then he could spend his life ensuring she never regretted that choice.

Taking the leash from her hand, he wrapped it around her wrists, holding on to them for a few long moments, tracing the fragile bone and smooth skin. When he at last drew her to her feet, he brought her to him, keeping the leash taut this time. The bare brush of her body against him, the near embrace, the tremble that swept through her as a result, almost broke him. But with a light squeeze of her hands, he guided her through the circle of the other K&A men, to the opposite wall where a favorite device waited.

Guiding her hands to it, he let her explore the breast stock while he released the sliding adjustment. As he found the right size, her fingers drifted down his back, grazing his arms. Most Masters had firm rules about their subs touching them without permission, but he liked how she used him as an anchor in unfamiliar surroundings. He couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually he turned her square to him and opened up the hooks of her corset until it gapped below her breasts. When he removed Jon’s invention, he bit back a groan, seeing how distended the nipples were. The boning of the corset was stiff, but he was able to fold it back enough that he could guide her breasts into the two spaced circles in the smooth mahogany wood. Tightening the metal adjustments inside the circles diminished their size, so that it held her fast. Her blood vessels would constrict, enlarging her breasts and making them more sensitive.

He raised the height of the stock, so she was straining on her toes. Then he placed the nipple clamps on her. She cried out at the stimulation, biting her lip at the pain that came with it. Easing the screws, he found that balance where she was on the knife-edge, her tremor from intense arousal, not unbearable pain. Then he connected the clamps with a chain, meeting in the middle with a padlock he held in his palm. Guiding her bound hands up to feel where he’d placed her, he saw her register how the stock worked, like one of old, only instead of arms, its torturous focus was on a woman’s luscious curves.

The circle adjustments kept her there with a snug hold, but as an added psychological measure, the locked chain between the nipple clamps underscored how impossible it was for her to pull away and free herself. When he let the padlock fall out of his hand, she jerked hard, a cry wrenching from her throat at the shock of the sudden pull against the clamps and her already hugely aroused nipples. Beautiful, mauve, impossibly aroused peaks.

“Oh, God, Master . . .”

She was so wet that her thighs glistened with it, the thong useless to absorb her arousal.

He loved it, couldn’t wait to strip her out of it and take her in only the stockings, corset and collar. If he had his way, that was what he’d always have her wear when she was in his house, in his bed.

“Now for what I promised you.” He made the words wet, covering her ear with his lips, dipping in with his tongue to trace the crevices around her hearing aid. “I’m going to make you come by sucking your pretty tits, sweetheart. You’re going to gush like a man.

I know you want my cock, but you’ll wait for that, as punishment for pulling the leash out of my hands, until you’ll never do that again, will you?”

She shook her head wildly, eyes glazed and mouth parted. “Please . . . Master.”

Jon had had a staff person bring Peter a chair, so now he sat to study the display in front of him,