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pale blue eyes from inches away and snarled, “I want you naked. I want to see it all. I want you tied up and naked, and if you make me tell you to strip again I’ll rip your clothes off your back.” He almost threw Asher away from him and walked away.
Asher staggered, caught the bed to steady himself. When he could stand steady, his shirt went on the floor and the rest of his clothes followed. There was something about Richard wanting to see him nude and tied up that reassured him, made him feel desired. There was no more hesitating.
We tied Asher on his knees to one side of the bed, centered between the bedposts. He was near enough to the edge of the bed that if we wanted to we could have his legs off the side, but we started with him comfortable, kneeling. The bed was the same bed, but the frame had been changed since last we had Richard with us. The frame was metal and custom built so that there were distinct places for attaching things all over the frame. It had originally been done so that Asher could teach me to top Nathaniel, but that meant that all of us had experienced the bed on both sides. The rule was you never try something on your submissive that you hadn’t tried on your own body first. There had been a few things that Nathaniel wanted that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, try on myself because the pain level was too high and I didn’t heal like he did, but Asher had taken more than one for the team in that area, until even he had called no mas, and Nathaniel had still not gone to his limit on pain with us. Frankly, Nathaniel’s limits in this area still scared me, even as they intrigued me.
Jean-Claude had gotten out the toy trunk—not toy box, trunk. It was one of those huge old-fashioned steamer trunks big enough to hide a body in. We’d moved it permanently into the bedroom about a month ago rather than having to get a few toys and carry them in; it had been a tacit acknowledgment of what we were doing in the bed and with each other. I had never dreamed that Richard would be on his knees digging around in the toys. I’d known he liked this kind of sex; he was right: Raina hadn’t created the need, she’d just let it out of its box. That he’d gotten comfortable enough with himself to admit it out loud to us was nothing short of miraculous. If miracles were things you thought you’d never see, like the St. Louis Rams winning the Super Bowl, or ice skating in hell.
Jean-Claude had simply taken off his shirt, and he was in leather pants and boots, very BDSM. With Asher tied up nude, my little businessy skirt outfit looked so out of place, but Jean-Claude had a fix for that. It was a leather dress, short but with a full skirt, and it belted at the waist; it looked like June Cleaver does bondage. I went into the bathroom to change with a pair of stiletto heels in hand. The shoes I’d worn before, but the dress was new. But the true beauty of the dress didn’t hit me until I put it on and started playing with the heavy zipper that went all the way down the front of it. The upper part of the dress was tight enough through the chest that it held me in place without a bra even when the zipper was nearly halfway down. My breasts stayed mounded, and no matter how I moved they weren’t going to fall out by accident. No, I’d have to lower the zipper and let them out. Or I could zip the dress all the way up and show no cleavage at all. It was a nice dress. I played with the zipper until my breasts looked like they were spilling out, or would at any moment, but I knew they were solid in place—well, as solid as real breasts get. I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror as I moved for the door, and it stopped me. I wasn’t into breasts, but the sight of my own chest in that dress with the wide leather belt making my waist look even tinier in all that leather with the full skirt was eye-catching. Okay, it made even me