Kallypso Masters debuted her BDSM club Rescue Me series in August with Masters at Arms, a unique 58,000-word erotic-romance series introduction that begins with three prequels that seem separate until the three men begin to come together in the months before they deploy to Iraq, where an unbreakable bond will be formed. (See Smashwords coupon code and link below for a free copy through Dec. 31).
The series sets the reader on a journey where they meet the heroes of the next three novels in the series—Marc, Adam, and Damián (in the order their books will be published). Marc’s romance has begun with Nobody’s Angel. Adam’s begins later this month, and Damián’s tentatively in April 2012. All but Marc meet their future heroines within this book, as well (but must be patient for their happy endings).
The man on the cover of Masters at Arms and Nobody’s Hero (Rescue Me #3), to be released Dec. 31) is Adam Montague, a retired Marine master sergeant, widower, and quite the master of the ropes. He loves performing and teaching the art of Shibari and in the still-being-edited scene below from Nobody’s Hero, he engages in some sensual “foreplay” as he prepares his new slave, Karla, for their upcoming rope suspension scene.
Special thanks to rope master TOYMAKER on FetLife for his input on this scene, teaching me to draw out the “foreplay” to help build the anticipation and excitement, and for suggesting he “flog” her with the rope before binding her with he. He also provided much more detail in the completed scene (which was about 20 manuscript double-spaced pages long, excluding aftercare!) as the scene progresses in the book.
Excerpt from NOBODY’S HERO:
“Clasp your hands behind your lower back, just above your ass.”
The abrupt command sent her erotic nerve-endings back on full alert. She straightened her back yet again and did his bidding.
He released her and picked up a red-dyed bundle of rope, unwrapping it and finding the ends. She lifted her butt off her heels and knelt taller for him, her breasts jutting out, erect and proud. She watched in the mirror as he shook out the strands of red rope, preparing for the binding to begin, she thought.
Instead, he took the strands, threading them between his fingers, and rubbed the cold rope and his warm hands over her bare breasts. The sensual feel of the rope, along with the pressure of his hands, elicited a moan from deep within her throat. This was so different from the demonstration at Marc’s house. For one, her breasts were bare this time. But he seemed to be spending so much more time preparing her.
“That’s right, kitten. Embrace the rope.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered. Her heartbeat fluttered. Waiting. Wanting. Needing.
“Breathe, baby.” Master Adam’s voice reminded her of the need for oxygen. She took a deep, relaxing breath. He continued to rub the rope over her breasts, abdomen, mons, even pressing it against her thong-covered clit and pussy, causing a delicious friction there that sent heat radiating throughout her body. Her breath hitched as her nipples became even more engorged. The rope and his hands moved up her arms leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their path. She fought to maintain her kneeling position, but the sensory overload left her wanting to puddle at his feet.
She did as he commanded. His hands returned the rope to her breasts and her breath caught when he brushed the rope across her sensitive nipples. No longer able to fight gravity, she sagged against him, her head lolling to the side. His body surrounded her and enfolded her. His lips kissed the curve of her neck, then nipped at the flesh there. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and panted. Now. She wanted him to touch her now.
How could she do anything else?
He rose and she planted her butt against her heels for support. She watched the rope dance in his hands as he prepared it for the binding to come. Her eyelids drifted shut. Of a sudden, the rope lashed her torso, licking repeatedly at her tender nipples. She opened her mouth to scream, but realized she wasn’t experiencing pain, but surprise. He walked in a circle around her continually flogging her with the ends of the rope—touching every exposed area, shoulders, breasts, arms, thighs, hands, butt. The nerves rose to the surface to welcome the sensual lash of the rope.
Just as suddenly, he stopped and knelt behind her again, separating her hair into two shanks and letting one fall over each shoulder to cover her breasts. Apparently, this time, he wasn’t going to bind it in the hair corset as he had at Marc’s house.
“Bend your elbows behind your lower back at ninety-degree angles and grab the opposite elbows with your hands. Your inner wrists need to be flush against your forearms.”
Karla hoped she did everything he’d ordered in his list of rapid-fire commands. Where did he want her elbows, hands, and wrists? Had she done it right?
Her body warmed at his praise. Her breasts jutted out even further in front of her, making them seem larger than they were.
“If you feel any tingling, especially in your arms, and eventually your legs, I want you to tell me immediately. Understand?”
He tied her forearms together, midway between her wrist and elbow, and with bone-melting movements, Master Adam’s hands wrapped, twisted, and threaded the rope with quick precision around her upper arms. She pictured countless scenes of his club demonstrations where he created what looked like a box out of the model’s arms, wrists, and hands. Occasionally, he tugged at her arms and the ropes, checking for tightness or comfort, maybe both.
She’d watched Adam bind Mistress Grant many times in demonstrations for other Doms wanting to learn the art. Those demonstrations had been so torturous for Karla that sometimes she’d had to turn her attention to other scenes happening in the club’s great room, because watching him touch someone else so intimately hurt too badly to watch.
But he’d been much more intimate doing Shibari with Karla than he’d ever been with Mistress Grant—and tonight he wasn’t performing for anyone but the two of them; wasn’t touching anyone but her. She smiled.
Soon he had her upper arms and torso tightly secured by the rope, her arms pressed snugly against her sides. She tested the bindings to see how much movement she still had in her arms and realized there was very little give, if any.
“Don’t move, unless you need to flex your hands or fingers. Don’t shift your body. The ropes will be placed on your torso, hips, legs, and arms in very precise ways so that, when I suspend you, I won’t put a strain on your arms.”
Suspend? She remembered the ring hanging above her. Oh, my! His explanation made sense. She didn’t felt any sense of panic, though. She trusted Master Adam not to harm her. He’d been her guardian and protector in many ways since she was sixteen.
Again, he worked in rapid motion behind her back and she wondered if there was a name for this design, but knew if he told her the Japanese word, she’d forget it anyway. He reached around in front of her and threaded a blue rope above and below her breasts, adjusting the tension and attaching these ropes to the red ones on her arms. Her breasts were squeezed between the ropes, but not so tightly they hurt. He pressed a kiss against her right shoulder and she shivered with need.
Rather than analyze what he was doing, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the ropes and Master Adam’s hands once more, letting him push and pull the rope through the bindings, moving her torso left and right, forward and back, as he manipulated her body as if she were a rag doll. Her head fell forward as she lost the ability to hold it upright. Her loose hair cascaded over her breasts and swung in the air in front of her as he bound her. Time ceased and Karla felt as if she were levitating off the floor, floating above her body.
When Master Adam took a shank of her hair and slowly pulled her head back, her eyes fluttered open to find herself staring upside-down into his mint-green eyes. “I’ve never worked with anyone so responsive to the rope, kitten.” He smiled.
That sounded like a good thing. She smiled, feeling half drunk, before her gaze settled on his lips. All she wanted was to feel them on her—anywhere. His smile faded. “Up you go, pet.”
His strong hands gripped her tightly bound upper arms and lifted her to her feet. He walked around to stand in front of her and stared down at her breasts, which had swollen and turned red between the rope bindings. When Master Adam bent to brush his tongue over one of her protruding nipples, she gasped at the hyper-sensitivity.
“Oh, my God!”
He chuckled. “I’m flattered, but you know better how to address me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m a little…disoriented.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d gone into subspace.”
She’d heard Angie talk about the time her mind and body separated when the abusive Dom beat her. “I thought you have to be in lots of pain to go into subspace.”
“No, it can happen anytime a sub or slave so completely surrenders and is able to move outside her conscious mind. It’s like going into a trance—or being stoned.”
She smiled. “I felt that, Master. I floated. Time disappeared.”
He chuckled and stroked her cheek. “Thank you, kitten, for your sweet surrender. Those are the sweetest words a D—a Master can hear.”
Master Adam was pleased, which pleased her. She’d been a good slave for him. All she wanted was to be what he wanted. To give him herself.
“Time to heighten your senses even more.”
She felt herself grow wet at the threat in his words—or was it promise? She bowed her head. “Thank you, Sir.”
He reached out and squeezed her tender nipples until they were hard and even more sensitive, which didn’t seem possible a moment ago. From the right pocket of his leathers, he pulled out a chain with clamps on either end. Master Adam took her left breast in his cupped hand and bent down to place her erect nipple between his lips. His teeth bit down gently and she sucked in a sharp breath, feeling weak in the knees.
He stood tall again. “Perfect.” Still cupping her breast, he took the clamp with his other hand and placed her nipple between the pincher-like ends, then slid a tiny ring along the shaft closer to her nipple, causing the pinchers to squeeze tighter and tighter onto her nipple. “Tell me when it’s too tight.”
She tried to hold out as long as she could to show she could be a good slave and take what her Master meted out, but when she could stand it no longer, she screamed, “Now!” Rather than stop, he pushed the ring just a little further sending a raging fire of pain burning through her nipple, until her knees buckled. He grabbed her arms to steady her, chuckling.
“How do you address me?”
Oh, shit. She hadn’t called him a sadist to his face, had she? Then she remembered what she’d forgotten when she’d tried to get him to stop squeezing her nip. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
How was she supposed to remember protocols when he did such mind-blowing things to her body? Would addressing him as Sir ever become a natural response for her? When he went to attach the other clamp to her right nipple, Karla instinctively moved away from him.
“Do. Not. Move.”
Ka-thunk. Her stomach dropped into her pelvis at his stern words, which left her feeling even more skittish. He bent down and bit her nipple, causing it to double in size, and placed the other clamp over it and began to tighten the pinchers. She decided not to let the pain go beyond her tolerance level this time and quickly shouted, “Now, Sir!” But he continued to adjust it to about the same tension as the other. The pain! Oh, God! Then she realized he hadn’t asked her this time to tell him when it hurt too much.
Kallypso Masters can be reached on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/kallypsomasters) and on her Facebook Author page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kallypso-Masters-Author/260576087323803); at Twitter (@kallypsomasters), Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomkallypsomasters), and by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org. Her Ahh, Kallypso…the stories you tell blog can be read and followed at http://kallypsomasters.blogspot.com/.