There’s a slight tug on my harness and a click as he removes the leash. I shiver as he runs a feather over my skin, paying particular attention to my nipples, which harden almost painfully with the light, tickling sensation. I gasp as he attaches a clamp to my left nipple. Fuck, it bites, reminding me that my nipples are a lot more sensitive than my arm. He attaches the second clamp, and I whisper a curse. The chain has a bit of weight to it, something I hadn’t noticed before, so there’s a constant, if slight, tug on the clamps that make them pinch that bit more.
“Green,” I mutter when nothing else happens, although I’m not sure how long I’ll honestly be able to say that.
Hamish begins to run feathers over my body. My senses are telling me he’s got one in each hand because I can feel the tickling sensation on both sides of my body, sometimes crossing over. He works the feathers over the most sensitive parts of my body: my face, my throat, over and behind my ears, the insides of my wrists, my inner thighs, and over my feet. The pleasant stimulation of the feathers and the stinging pain of the clamps—both enhanced by my inability to see—quickly turn me on, making me hard. Hamish runs a finger under the waistband of my jockstrap.
“Green, Sir,” I whisper.
He takes it off me and, then as I’d hoped, starts to use the feathers on my cock and balls. I groan and then make the mistake of thrusting towards the feathers. I yelp as Hamish tugs on the chain connecting the clamps. They tighten. Fuck, do they tighten. Tears gather in my eyes, hidden by the blindfold. I suck in a shuddering breath and bite my lower lip as pain pulses in my nipples.
“Naughty,” Hamish says in a stern tone. “Now you know what will happen if you’re naughty again.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Gradually, the pain subsides to a dull ache again as the clamps loosen just a little. Hamish goes back to running the feathers over my body. I let myself float in a sea of pleasure and pain. I’m rapidly coming undone, just as I’d wanted to. I want our play to last as long as possible, so I cling on to my impending orgasm and focus on holding it back. Pressure builds up in my groin, and my balls draw up tight enough to make my eyes water. I’m high. My skin so sensitive as the feathers glide over me.
“Do you like that?” Hamish asks in a gruff, sexy voice.
“Yes, Sir.”
I thrust my hips again, and Hamish punishes me with a harder tug on the chain. I cry out as, for a moment, the pain eclipses everything else. I adore everything he's doing to me, and I'm turned on by the knowledge that someone is probably watching us play. My heart soars with emotion as the tickling and the clamps become too much for me to hold in. Hamish is my sun. He's everything I've ever wanted in a man, a lover, a Dom, and a partner, and more besides. I want him. I need him. I—
My orgasm rocks through my body, hard, fast, and as all-consuming as a flash flood. I'm drowning, gasping for breath over and over. Blood rushes back into my nipples as Hamish removes the clamps. I wince at the shock of pain and then groan as Hamish gently massages my nipples until they've stopped being hypersensitive. Once I'm fully relaxed again, he undoes my wrists. Then I'm in his arms, and we're on the ground, and he's cradling me against his chest, whispering to me, kissing me, loving me. It's a perfect moment, one where my heart is soaring, even though I've crashed to earth.
Hamish strokes my hair and face until my breathing is calm. Then he removes the blindfold and puts my glasses back on. He comes back into sharp focus, every inch of him beautiful.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes. That wasamazing, Sir.”
“Not too painful?”
I lick my lips and shake my head. “Just right. I like a bit of pain.”
He smiles. “I know you do, Archieosaurus.”
I cuddle up to him, running my fingers over his hairy body. God, I adore how furry this man is and that his body is soft and cuddly, not hard as a board and rippling with muscles and veins.
The thought that had crashed into my mind right before my release returns, nestling into place perfectly. I love him. It’s not the right time to say the words out loud because I know I’m still recovering from my orgasm, and I’m tired and muddle-headed from my orgasm. Anything I say now will have an air of doubt attached to it, but I know I love him, and I want him to know I mean it when I say it.
Gently he gets us both to our feet and leads me over to one of the sofas, where we cuddle up again, me partially lying over his body. He wraps his arms around me, making me feel safe and wanted. I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat, which drowns out the sounds of play around us.
Gradually, as he strokes my shoulder in a drowsy fashion, I come back to myself. My thoughts sharpen, and energy returns to my body. I fold my hands over Hamish’s chest and rest my chin on them so I can stare up at his face. His eyes are closed, his expression content.
“Sir?”
“Hmm?”
“I…” I falter. Even though his embrace has brought me well and truly out of sub-drop, I’m still not sure this is the right time and place to tell him how I feel. “Could we go downstairs?”
He opens his eyes a fraction, the blue of his irises dark in the dim lighting. “Oh?”
"I…" I take a breath and force confidence into my words. "I want you all to myself for a bit, Sir."
He opens his eyes fully. “Oh?”
I stare at him, hoping my need is clear on my face.
"I'd like that," he says. He kisses my forehead and tips me onto my feet.
