Game. Justine Elyot

of attention, letting the vibrations pulse gently through my swelling clit. I get close, and then I pull the thing out, wanting more of Lloyd’s desperation and frustration before I come.

      ‘I preferred when you were whacking me!’ he yelps when I plunge the vibrator back in. ‘This is way more cruel.’

      ‘So sorry.’ But the murmur is a reflex, not sincere, because I am too focused now on the tide lapping slowly forwards once more, creeping up, getting ready.

      When I come, I try not to make a sound but just let the breath ebb from my body, controlled, unhurried. Although my eyelids flutter, I can still see most of what Lloyd is doing and it intensifies my pleasure to know that he is in his predicament, restrained and erect and raring to fuck me.

      ‘I think,’ I say, sounding slightly drunk as I try to swing my legs back over the chair arms, ‘it’s time for your treat now. I’m gonna uncuff you, but don’t you even think about touching me, OK?’

      ‘Hard to make that promise, Soph.’

      ‘I know. That’s why I’m asking you to make it.’

      ‘All right.’

      I start to unbuckle the straps of leather encircling his wrists. They are pink and a little sore looking. He lowers his arms stiffly. ‘I want you to go over to that piece of furniture I got out earlier and bend over it.’

      ‘What?’ He puts his head to one side, examining me as if aiming to look into my mind. ‘What’s the plan, ma’am?’

      ‘You’ll see, boy. Now do it.’ I let my palm ring out on that still-welted backside.

      He growls, then realises that submissives are not meant to growl and lunge at their mistresses, shrugs and slopes over to the bench.

      ‘Get that behind nice and high,’ I command as he positions himself. I tie his wrists again, and his ankles. Don’t want any misdirected kicks, not when I do what I’m planning to do. ‘Just keep still while I go and get my equipment.’

      ‘What equipment?’

      ‘Aha. Wait and see. Don’t move.’

      ‘I can’t bloody well move anyway. You’re going to whip me again, aren’t you? Oh my God, you’re going to get a dildo and …’

      Now he’s on the right track. But I don’t want to ruin the surprise, so I simply shush him and grab the harness from the cupboard.

      He must be able to hear it jingle and clink while I attach it to my pelvis. The cock part of it draws its centre of gravity down, the weight is a little disconcerting. What would it actually be like to have a cock, I find myself wondering. Does it get in the way of stuff all the time?

      ‘Have you guessed what it is yet?’ I tease, practising a few different poses, grabbing hold of the dildo part and pointing it towards his distant pink bottom.

      ‘Something with metal … a harness of some kind.’

      ‘Now I just need to choose the right lube … maybe some of this tingle gel, eh?’

      ‘Oh, Sophie!’ He says my name with such reverence. ‘I never dreamed you’d go this far. Are you really going to …?’

      ‘Fuck your arse, darling? Yes, I am.’

      ‘Oh sweet Jesus.’

      ‘You drove me to it. All your goading at me to concede. All your smugness about how sure you were I’d fail. This counts for several successes at once, I feel.’

      ‘I’ll be the judge of that. You haven’t done it yet.’

      ‘You haven’t done this before then?’

      There’s a pause.

      ‘Actually, yes,’ he admits.

      ‘With a girl? Or a boy?’

      ‘Boy. Experiment.’

      ‘Good experiment? Or not?’

      ‘Pretty good, actually.’

      ‘Definitely the tingle gel then.’ I sigh heavily. ‘I was all excited about taking your virginity. That’s one thing I’ve still never done.’

      ‘Noted.’

      ‘I’m going to stop telling you things. I’ve never been pleasured in a sheik’s harem by eight naked oiled male models either. Is that noted too?’

      ‘No, because I think you’re lying.’

      I’m close to him now. He needs to start feeling the seriousness of his position and he needs to start feeling it now.

      I keep adjusting the harness as I walk, not sure how it’s meant to sit. Like this? Like that? I pull it as tight as I can, the fake cock bowing out in front of me.

      I put my hand on his bottom and he flinches. I know his sphincter has tightened.

      ‘Dear sweet Lloyd. How do you like it? Hard and fast, or slow and sweet? How do you like your arse fucked?’

      ‘I … can’t remember.’ His teeth are gritted.

      I squirt some lube on the exposed part of my fingers and slot them between his cheeks until I feel that wrinkled texture amid the softness. Tight, squeezed shut. Can I do this? Will I tear him?

      I get it nice and slick and slidey then I push it forwards a tiny bit. I’m as tense as he is, every muscle of my face pulled into a grimace.

      He breathes in short puffs. I know he’s making an effort to remember what he always tells me during anal sex. Bear down, push back, relax.

      It takes just a moment of screwing my finger left and right and I’m in. How peculiar it feels to press against the narrow walls of his passage, so hot and so tender.

      He makes an incoherent noise, and I remember I need to be domming it up big style, talking him through this.

      ‘You’ve got a finger up your arse, boy – how does that feel?’

      ‘Uh, quite nice, ma’am.’

      ‘Does it? Because you’re going to have more than a finger soon enough. How’s the tingle gel?’

      ‘Tingly.’

      He illustrates this with a wiggle of his arse and a tightening of the muscles, closing around my finger like a trap. Where’s the prostate? Is it near here or further up? My strap-on and I will investigate its location.

      ‘Are you ready?’ I pull out my finger, watching the aperture close up again like one of those doors in space operas with multiple triangular blades that meet and seal up the exit.

      ‘As I’ll ever be,’ he says with some effort.

      ‘Right.’

      I stand there, taking deep breaths. I’m more nervous than he is. Oh for fuck’s sake, I should just get on with it.

      ‘If you want to concede …’

      I attach a limpet hand to one of his hips, press the dildo between his cheeks, find the target.