Written in collaboration with the most excellent Laughing Warrior. If you haven't read her works, you're really missing out. Oi! Hey, don't bugger off just yet, read this first!

The mundane bit:

We own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

Parental Advisory Warning: Contains activities of an adult nature, only to be performed between consenting adults.

The interesting bit: Chapter 1.

"What the fuck happened?" Jax came storming into the clubhouse, his trademark swagger even more distinct in his anger. It wasn't yet noon, too early in the day for bullshit like this. He and Tara had had another blowout last night about her wanting to leave Charming and take his sons away, and she'd left for work this morning, and taken Abel and Thomas to daycare, without a word—without even a note. He was really not in the mood.

Chibs was sitting at the bar with Bobby, hovering over a cup of hot coffee, probably Irish. He rose from his barstool and moved into the President's path. "Easy, brutha. Just a burst pipe. We got it stopped. But the basement's flooded, and there's shite down there we gotta deal with before the plumbers get here. Prospects cleaned up best they could, but some of what's down there is above their pay grade."

"Has anyone even been in the basement?" Truth be told, Jax had completely forgotten the building even had a basement. He couldn't remember ever having gone down there, and he'd been raised in this clubhouse.

Chibs made a wry smirk. "From wha' I saw, I'd say Tig's been down there a time 'er two. That's not the shite I'm worried about, though. C'mon. Lemme show ye."

They went down the hall, where the carpet runner had been pulled back and a trap door exposed. A narrow, fold-out staircase descended into a dark void, like something out of a horror movie. Chibs went down first; Jax followed. As he stepped off the ladder, he went about ankle-deep into water. "Fuck!"

Chibs laughed. "Sorry. Told ye it was flooded."

Once they were down, it wasn't quite as dark. A couple of bare bulbs hanging from the low ceiling pushed back the gloom. Jax looked around. Most of the space was empty. Some random basement-type odds and ends, but nothing much. There was a large metal table off to one side, however. If Jax's spatial orientation was right, it was just about underneath the chapel and the carved wooden table around which they sat at least weekly.

On that metal table were several boxes in varying degrees of waterlogged. Chibs and Jax sloshed over and checked them out. Most were boxes of papers, all of them from years before—when J.T. was alive. Jax rifled through the yellowing pages. He was shocked at the records his father had kept. It seemed absurdly reckless to have this all on paper. "We need to burn this shit."

"Right, boss. S'what I thought. I'll call the shitheads back down for 'em."

Jax nodded and pulled a much bigger box across the table, opening the flaps. He peered in. "Jesus Christ."

Chibs laughed. "Told ye I thought Tiggy'd been down here more'n the rest of us. He's been keeping his toys down here."

Jax stared into the box and fought to keep his jaw from dropping. He won the battle, but only just. His hand hovered over the open box. His eyes couldn't make sense of all of what he was seeing, but he, President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, hardened and cold-blooded killer, couldn't bring himself to sort through the mass of rubber, leather and steel.

"Shit!" He muttered. "He's been using this shit on the girls? How the fuck have we got any 'Eaters left?"

Chibs peered over Jax's shoulder. "Christ! It's a wonder we've nae found one or two chained up down 'ere. What the feck is that?"

Jax knocked Chibs' reaching hand away and folded the lids of the box closed.

"We can't leave this down here. Not that I give a shit what it does for our reputation, but word gets out and it'll be the last time we'll ever be able to do any fund raisers for the schools or charity shit for the kids' ward at St Thomas. Christ! He's a fucking deviant!"

"Aye. That's our Tiggy, bless 'im."

Chibs and Jax waded back to the step ladder and trudged back up into the clubhouse, the soaked hems of their jeans making their steps heavy and leaving dripping trails of water behind them. Both men gulped relieved lungfuls of moderately fresh air. The miasma of smoke, sweat and wheaty alcohol that was the permanent odour of the clubhouse was a welcome reprieve from the heavy, musty damp of the flooded basement.

As Chibs hollered for the prospects, Jax went to put the box behind the bar. Halfway there he halted mid-step and thought better of it. "Fuck!" He muttered to himself. "Can't have this shit laying around. Fuck knows who might get hold of it."

"More'n likely yer'll find dildos poppin' up all ova tha place." Chibs said quietly, having followed after Jax once he'd finished yelling.

"I'll take it back to mine. Tig can come and collect his shit or I'll get rid of it."

Jax carried the box out of the clubhouse, holding it slightly away from his body as if afraid the contents would contaminate him somehow. He walked all the way to his bike before he realized that there was no fucking way he'd be able to get the box on the bike. It was too big.

"Fuck!" He turned around and stormed back inside. "Chibs—I'm taking the van. I'll be back for my bike later. Goddammit." He hated riding in a damn cage.

Jax pulled into his driveway and yanked the box out of the back. Tara's car wasn't there. She was still at the hospital—that was good, anyway. He juggled the box and the house keys in a desperate endeavor to prevent the contents of the box cascading all over his front porch. Having managed to get into the house without exposing his neighbors to Tig's excesses, Jax dumped the box onto the small dining table. It settled with a series of small noises, mostly the clink of metal against metal. He stepped back and just looked at the box where it sat innocuously amidst his homely furniture, before he turned into the kitchen and snagged a carton of milk from the fridge. Drinking directly from the carton he tipped his head back, savoring the fresh cold, liquid.

He paused, carton in hand, staring back into the house. He didn't want to, really, he didn't want to. There was a whole mess of shit in that box. Jax wasn't exactly a prude. After splitting from Wendy, before Tara had appeared back in town, he'd gained a bit of a reputation with the ladies, but the stuff in that box was way beyond his wheelhouse, way beyond it. There was… a sneaking voice in his ear, a sick sort of compulsion, like riding past a crash, he just had to look.

With hesitant steps he made his way back over to the box, sat there, so innocently, on the table It was stupid. No one was in the house, no one would see. Why did he feel the taint of Tig on his skin at just the thought of delving into that… Pandora's Box.

His feet made their own way without instruction from his brain. Before he knew it he was stood at the table with the box, just sitting there, in front of him. His hands, seemingly of their own volition, set the milk carton down and reached for the top of the box.

He stared at the contents for long seconds, unable to comprehend individual items. He reached in, and began to pull the toys out one by one, laying them delicately on the table.

Apart from the obvious assortment of dildos, anal beads, blindfolds and such that he'd seen in use at Cara Cara, there were a few other things, some of which defied explanation. There was a roll of what looked like shiny black duct tape and something that Jax recognized as a spreader bar. He'd pretty much expected to find some sort of whip, so the flogger and the cat o' nine tails weren't exactly a surprise, but the long thin plastic stick topped with feathers threw him for a moment.

It took him a few moments to organize the strips of black leather with strategically placed steel loops until he recognized the short part went around the neck and figured out that the rest either draped down the front of the back of a body. The cuffs dangling from the lowest loops of the longest length could obviously be attached to any of the series of D-rings, forcing the arms higher or lower as required.

There was a deceptively innocent item consisting of three lengths of chain. But it was the three wicked tweezer-type attachments on the end of each piece that caused Jax to pause. When he'd laid it out on the table in a form that made sense, he felt his cock begin to swell in his jeans. The long, silver, rubber-tipped tweezers with a silver bell at their apex had a similar effect.

The next item he pulled out, though, left him confused. Partly, the idea of it, once he'd figured it out, excited him; but there was a large part of him that felt ashamed of that excitement. Surely no one normal would want to use this?! It was an equal mix of leather and steel. A metal ring was fixed by four large metal hooks to two leather straps which obviously buckled together. After a few moments of twisting and turning it in his hands he figured out it was a gag, then he realized that the purpose of the gag was to force the wearer's mouth open. On the one hand the idea of someone being used whilst wearing such an item repulsed him, on the other; subjugating someone in that manner, especially if used in conjunction with a couple of the other items in the box, had him reaching to readjust himself in his denim.

The last item that had fallen, almost lost into a corner of the box, had Jax questioning if Hap hadn't been involved somehow with this eclectic collection. It was a metal implement consisting of a long slender handle and at the end, seven wheels, side by side, each wheel ringed with spikes. He ran it over the palm of his hand. It definitely didn't tickle, but the spikes didn't hurt, he couldn't even define them as pin-pricks, it was more of a sharp but insistent pressure.

Jax looked at the selection of toys strewn over his innocent dining table and shuddered, feeling the chill travel the length of his spine. He quickly gathered them all up and stowed them back in the box, which he carefully placed on the sideboard, pushed to the back, out of the reach of searching little hands.

He settled down on the sofa to watch a sports news channel, gulping deeply from the carton of milk to quench his suddenly parched throat. It must have been later than he realized because it wasn't long before Tara tumbled through the front door, Thomas on one hip, various bags slung over her other shoulder, and Abel ushered before her lest he decide to follow his usual impulse to run off down the street after his friends.

Between the hectic routine of getting the kids into the house, getting them settled and getting supper cooked and the table set and everyone fed, it felt as though they hardly had chance to say two words to each other. If he was honest, Jax wasn't sure where he'd start the conversation. "Hey honey, guess what we found in the flooded basement of the club house today?" Their last words, last night, had been angry ones, and Jax still didn't know where they stood, whether her relative warmth now was for the boys' benefit, or whether the fight was over. For whatever reason, for the life of him he just couldn't organize his thoughts into a G-rated conversation.

They tripped through the usual routine of getting both children ready for bed and settled in their respective beds and cribs. Jax had kissed Abel goodnight and had resumed his spot from earlier on the sofa when Tara came back into the room after settling Thomas.

"What's this?" Jax feigned deafness as the box on the sideboard caught her eye.

Tara took half a step back as she opened the box and discovered the contents. "Oh my!" She turned to Jax. "What is all that?"

Jax turned off the TV and went over to her. "Pipe burst in the basement at the clubhouse last night. We had to clean shit out of there for the plumbers. I found this down there. Gotta be Tig's shit."

"And you brought it here? Into our house, with our boys? Jax, what were you thinking? This stuff is . . . sick." She was rifling through the box as she talked, pulling pieces out, one at a time, much as he'd done earlier in the day.

Jax moved to stand right behind her and put his chin on her shoulder. Watching her fondle Tig's toys had his cock all kinds of alert. "Sorry, babe. I was thinking I had to get it out of the clubhouse, where who the hell knows would get into it. We don't need people outside the club knowing about Tig's deviant psycho shit. Talk about a PR problem."

"Yeah, but here?" She'd found the nipple/clit clamp combo that had caught Jax's interest earlier. He watched her untangle the chain and work out the sense of it. When she did, she dropped it back into the box as if it an electrical current had suddenly run through it.

"Not a lot of options, babe." He put his hands on her hips and kissed the side of her neck.

She pulled the neck and wrist restraint gizmo out and ran her fingers over the soft, pliable leather. "I'm still pissed, you know. You can't think I'll keep my boys in Charming just because you think you've laid down the law." She figured out what the piece she was holding was and whispered, "Oh." Jax knew that sound. She was turned on. Tig's toys had her hot. His cock pulsed hard.

He clutched her hips and gave her neck a bite. "Our boys. And shut the fuck up. We can fight later." He didn't know whether it was her threat to take his family away, or the sight of her fingers winding around Tig's toys, or just the presence of her, this woman, his old lady, who'd haunted his thoughts since he was 16 years old, but he had a sudden, overwhelming need to dominate her. He wanted to bind her, hold her, keep her.

Sucking on her neck, he slid one hand into her jeans and the other under her bra. She gasped and relaxed back on him, her head on his shoulder. He pinched her clit and her nipple at the same time, hard, giving each a sharp little pull. She arched back with a strangled shriek, as if, remembering their children sleeping down the hall, she'd caught her full-throated wail at just the last second.

He did it again, this time rolling her between his fingers as he pulled. "Oh, fuck, Jax!"

He released her and straightened her clothes. His mouth against her ear, he murmured, "I think we should try out some of Tig's shit, babe. You up for it?"

Tara was quiet for several seconds, resting back against him, panting lightly. "Like what?," she finally asked.

Jax pulled the neck and wrist restraint back out. "This for sure." He turned her chin so he could look her in the eyes. "Okay?" After a moment spent contemplating the apparatus, she nodded.

"Good girl. Now you pick something." Right away, she pulled the nipple and clit clamps out. Jax laughed with delight. "Oh, babe. You nasty girl. Come on." He led her toward their bedroom.

But Tara pulled back. "Wait."

Jax stopped and turned to her, already starting to feel pissed that she'd dangle this in front of him and then back out. "What?"

"That's Tig's stuff. It needs to be cleaned before we use it." That was a damn good point, actually. Probably should be sterilized. Twice. But Jax didn't want to wait that long. He thought for a minute, then grinned and grabbed her. "I got it. Come on." On the way down the hall, he grabbed the box of baby wipes off the divider between the hall and the living room. They'd do.

Jax thought he'd hold off telling Tig to claim his shit. There was more in that box he wanted to try out.

Once they'd reached the sanctuary of their room, Jax slid the small bolt on the door home. It wasn't often that they felt the need to use it, but this was definitely one of those times that it wouldn't do for Abel to wander in wanting a glass of water.

He turned to find Tara stood at the end of the bed, the sliver chains dangling from her fingers, just watching him. He paused a moment to enjoy the feeling of seeing her stood waiting for him; his woman, waiting for her man to fuck her, to make her scream. And boy was he going to make her scream. With a crooked smirk lighting his face he swaggered over to her. He tossed the leather restraint and the baby wipes onto the bed and ran his palm lightly down her arm from her elbow to her finger tips. He twisted the chain in his own palm and tugged it from her, before dropping it on the bed too.

He slid his fingers into her hair, his palms brushing her cheeks, cupping her face as he pulled her into a deep kiss. He could feel her body relax against him, feel her moulding herself to him as she tried to get closer. He almost jumped at the electricity that flowed over him when he felt her delve under his hoodie, running her hands over his hips just above his low-slung jeans. The smirk returned when Tara broke their kiss, still running her palms upwards, signaling for him to raise his arms. He did so, allowing her to pull the garment over his head. She wore her own satisfied smirk as her gaze roamed over him. Seeing her look at him like that, desire naked in her eyes, had him licking his lips in anticipation.

"Off," he murmured, jerking the hem of her top.

He was pleased when she stepped back, giving him space to appreciate the view. She paused to shake her long, chocolate curls over her shoulders before pinching the hem of her tank top with both hands, raising it steadily, but slowly, until she could pull it over her head and toss it across the room. He thought she'd go for the bra next, but with a wicked grin she stroked the waistband of her jeans before unfastening them and smoothing them slowly over her hips and down her thighs. She stepped out of them and kicked them over to join her discarded top.

He licked his lips again and scrubbed a palm over his beard. His Old Lady was a vision, standing before him with nothing but black lace over her porcelain skin. The design of the lingerie set revealed more than it covered. Jax reached out to cup a breast in his palm, intending to run his thumb over the rosy nipple peeking from beneath the lace, but Tara stepped out of reach.

"Tit for tat baby."

It hadn't escaped Jax's notice that Tara had bumped into the end of the bed when she'd backed up. Girl was cornered now and she'd pay for her teasing, but he'd give her a little win first. He took his time stripping out of his denim. He wasn't about to pull any cheesy moves, but he didn't want her thinking he was over-excited either. His jeans soon joined hers in the pile of discarded clothing.

They stood facing each other, Jax in his white boxers, Tara in her black lace lingerie. He stepped up and hooked his arm around her waist, pressing his body firmly along hers. Now she was well trapped between his body and the foot of the bed. He grabbed her hand and pushed it between them and into his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his erect cock.

Her hand snugged firmly around his girth and stroked; he couldn't hold back a rough grunt. Nothing would ever compare to the touch of this woman, the feel of her. He'd had her, he'd lost her, he'd pined for her, and now she was really his, always. Sometimes, when things were hard between them, he let himself forget the empty hole his life had been without her. His heart swelled with recollection now. So did his cock.

With a saucy grin she asked, "Oh, baby. Is that for me?"

"You know it, babe. It's all for you. If you're a good girl, that is." He leaned down and kissed her, drawing her lush lower lip between his teeth for a taste. Still sucking her lip, he pulled her hand free from his cock and out of his boxers. Then he broke away from the kiss and winked down at her. "Time to play."

Her hand still firmly in his, he reached around her and snagged the restraints from the bed. "You ready for this, babe?"

Tara looked at the leather with avid trepidation. "But don't hurt me, right?"

There was something sweet and untested in her expression; it was the way she used to look, when they were young, before the life had taken such a toll on her, on them. She looked like the girl he'd fallen in love with. He loved her still, but there were times when the memory of the girl she'd been sustained him. Jax pulled his one true love close again and kissed her neck. "Never hurt you, babe. Only what you like."

She leaned into his kiss, her cheek on his. "Okay."

He kissed her cheek and turned her around, facing her away from him. He laid the leather bands on the edge of the bed; then gently, with just a whisper touch, he slid the straps of her bra over her shoulders until they hung lightly against her arms, held patiently at her sides. When he unhooked the clasps at the back, it fell loose. Tara gave her body a little shake and it dropped onto the carpet. He trailed his fingertips down her spine, causing her to shiver, before slipping his fingers into the band of her panties at her hips. Slowly, he eased them down, dropping to his knees as he did so, allowing his warm breath to follow the path recently set by his fingers. Tara stepped tentatively out of her underwear and Jax sent them spinning across the room with a quick flick of his wrist.

He rose to his feet and pushed her beautiful hair over her shoulder before pressing his lips to the perfect skin he'd uncovered. Then, gently, he wrapped the neck piece around her delicate throat and fastened it on her nape. A long strap lay down the length of her spine, with twinned sets of D-rings, occurring at regular intervals, and another single ring at the bottom. Jax reached for her left wrist and wrapped a cuff around it; then he did the same to her right. Each time he touched her, she jumped just slightly—barely a twitch, really—and gasped.

He ran his hands down the length of her arms to calm her. "Easy, babe. I got you."

This was their first time trying something like this. Tara was nervous, and he didn't want to hurt her, so he hooked the cuffs through the lowest ring. He kissed her shoulder, and she laughed nervously, a breathy little giggle.

She was bound, her hands fastened behind her back. She was his. He turned her to face him. "Now what am I going to do with you?"

He saw her pupils dilate as the realization hit her that in this position he could do whatever he damn well wanted to her and she would be powerless to stop him. The thought made his cock throb. The scratch of the material of his underwear was almost painful against the highly sensitized skin. It was all about priorities. As Tara watched he slipped out of his boxers, gratified by the small gasp that escaped her when she saw just how solid he was for her.

Moving quickly, aiming to shock her on purpose, as he straightened he caught her in his arms; one arm behind her knees, the other around her waist. With a lift and a jerk he lifted her and dropped her lightly on the bed. Her squeak of alarm hit him in his gut, somewhere that he wasn't sure he wanted to examine too deeply; but it sent an extra pulse of blood down south.

He reached across Tara's prone body to grab the cool lengths of metal and the baby wipes. He knelt up over her, his knees either side of her hips, looking down on her. Extracting a wipe from the pack he gave the rubber-tipped ends of the three tweezer-like attachments a careful once over before carelessly dropping the square of cloth over the edge of the bed. He wanted to capture her attention whilst he cleaned the toy. He wanted her to think about what he was about to do, to anticipate what she was about to feel at his hands.

He wrapped the cold cords around his hand a couple of times and then leant forward, leaning his weight on his palms on either side of her face. He was careful not to trap any of her luxurious hair. He leant forward, face-to-face with the love of his life, so close that they were sharing warm breaths. He kept his heavy-lidded gaze on her as licked across her lips. She opened under his caress, and he kissed her deeply, barely allowing her to breathe, pouring his heart and soul out into her. He was determined not to hurt her, but the strength of his reaction to her bound like this, helpless, under him, kindled a wildness in his core that he wasn't sure he could control.

Pulling back, leaving her gasping for oxygen, he began to move down her body. He'd meant to only trail teasing kisses, but something harder and darker was riding him now. He nipped the tender skin of her neck between his teeth. He licked a pointed tongue across her collar bone as if tasting her. He nibbled his way down to her breasts, using the weight of his body against her hips to keep her still.

He shuffled down a little until he was level enough with her breasts to take a nipple between his lips, sucking it hard. The position brought him some tenuous relief given that his cock was now pressed against the bed sheets instead of Tara's mound, but there was no such amnesty for his wife.

He was more forceful than he'd ever been with her before, but despite the small gasps that may have signaled some fear, she was moaning, muttering curses and writhing against him as much as she was able. He lavished attention on both nipples, nipping, sucking and blowing on them, until he was certain that they were painfully stiff; before continuing his journey down her body. Her clit received the same attention, but for a much shorter time. He wasn't going to allow her to come, not yet.

When he knelt back up, the thought crossed his mind that if he stayed still, just contemplating her as she lay there, that there was a damn good chance that he would explode without needing to be touched. He could see the edges of the soft leather chaffing ever so slightly at the delicate skin of her neck. She was squirming, trying to relieve the tension he'd built and resisting the hard knot of her hands bound at the base of her spine which forced her to arch up, presenting her whole body to him whether she liked it or not.

Jax reached down, and with a couple of quick tweaks to ensure her nipple was as swollen as possible, he positioned the first clamp and slid the small ring up the metal prongs until they pinched the stiff pink peak hard enough to make Tara curse.

He stopped and met her eyes, a silent question between them. After a moment, she nodded slightly, and Jax plucked at her other nipple, bringing it to a peak. He attached the other clamp and tightened it, making sure it was even with the first. Tara whimpered and squirmed but said nothing. She was panting, her exhales going out with a slight tremor. He leant down, his eyes still on hers, and flicked his tongue over one distended, blushing nipple. Tara jumped and cried out.

Jax sat back on his knees, straddling her, keeping his weight off her legs. "Too much, babe?" He hoped not. He was so hard and hot for her, lying trussed up under him, her breasts straining against the clamps. He didn't want to be done. He wasn't done. He wanted her to want the pain.

Her breath was heavy and uneven now, and she bit her lip as she stared into his eyes. Whatever she found in their depths, finally she said, "No. Not too much. Keep going."

He grinned. "You got it, babe." He drew the chain through his fingers, pulling gently on the clamps attached to her sweet nipples, distending them steadily further. She arched back, her eyes closed and her mouth open. When he had the clit clamp in his hands, he shifted and spread her legs wide, so that he could settle between them. Before he did anything else, he pressed his hand against her mound, caressing her, reveling in the soft silk of her most sensitive skin, marveling at the heavy wetness beginning to soak the sheet under her. He slid two fingers deep into her heat. She gasped as her hips rose from the bed. "Jax," she whispered, her voice low and sultry with want.

He held up the last clamp, lifting his eyebrows—one final check. This time, she smiled and nodded. She was acclimating to these new sensations and becoming less fearful. He slid the clamp around her clit, sliding the ring slowly, steadily, watching as the clamp tightened just below the hard bud of her most intense pleasure, making it swell. Then, when the clamp was secure, he bent down and flicked his tongue back and forth over that bud. Tara screamed and tried to roll to her side—he reached up and pushed her back to the bed, her arms trapped under her.

"Gotta stay put, babe. You good?"

Breathing heavily, each exhale a moan, Tara nodded. "It's intense," she gasped.

He bet it was. Hell, it was intense for him—he didn't know how much longer he could play with her without some relief for himself. "That's good, right?" She nodded energetically, and he chuckled. "Good girl. Damn, Tara, you're sexy like this."

"I want more—I want you." She licked her lower lip, dragging her teeth over it.

"You want me? You want this?" Jax grabbed his cock. Tara nodded, her eyes flaring.

He loomed over her, careful not to disturb any clamps, and kissed her, filling her mouth with his tongue the way he'd soon fill her core with his cock. As she became more aggressive, he pulled back and winked. "Not yet, babe. But soon."

Her whole body shook and had become a beautiful shade of pink, jittery and flushed with arousal. The power he felt over her was like an aphrodisiac. Jax felt wild. He scooted down and pressed his lips to each nipple in turn, making her twitch and squeak. He took small bites—not hard enough to bruise, but not gentle, either—of the skin over her ribs and belly as he worked his way lower, finally pausing at her clit and lightly, so lightly, licking the swollen bud like a tiny lollipop.

Tara squealed and tried to sit up and scissor her legs together, but Jax held her in place. "Fuck, Jax! It's too much!"

He let her go and rested back on his heels, between her legs. "You sure about that, babe?" He plucked the chain connecting all three clamps like a guitar string, and she cried out again.

"Fuck! No! Don't stop—just—just please make me come. No more teasing. Please, Jax. I need to come. I need it now."

He needed it, too. His cock felt enflamed. Leaving the clamps in place, he straightened his legs and loomed over his old lady. With one forceful stroke, he filled her wet, dark heat to the hilt.

Tara screamed, "Yes! Jax, yes!" Jax put his hand over her mouth—she was going to wake the boys. Losing the support of that hand brought his body down on top of hers. He could feel all three clamps moving on his chest and above his cock. Oh, shit.

Tara's eyes were wide and frenzied; she was whimpering against his palm, but he kept thrusting into her as hard and fast as he could. When he felt her legs wrap around him and clasp him snugly, he knew she was enjoying the weight and friction of his body on the clamps.

In all the years they'd been together, he would never have guessed that pain would make her so wild. In some way, it changed everything he knew about her.

Suddenly, she was screaming, really screaming against his palm, the muscles of her throat corded with effort. The muscles holding his cock flexed strenuously as she climaxed. At the peak of her release she bit his hand, and that, somehow, set him off to follow her. He snatched his hand away, shouting, "Jesus Christ!" as he exploded inside her. He thrust almost helplessly, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm as Tara's body bowed beneath him, arching so violently that she almost threw him off.

He collapsed, panting against her neck. He was filled with the scent of her skin, leather and sex. Despite, or maybe because of, the all-consuming orgasm his cock twitched, still buried to the hilt in her body. Tara's body was pinned by his weight, but at the feel of him moving so suddenly deep within her it spasmed again as if trying to curl into itself.

Jax realized he was crushing Tara, even though she hadn't complained, and rolled onto his side. He chuckled breathlessly when he looked at his wife; seeing her eyes glazed over he realized she was dazed with passion and not quite back on Planet Earth yet. He ran his eyes over her body, taking time to appreciate the way her sweat-slickened skin gleamed in the low light of the room. He noticed that her nipples were darkening towards purple and moved swiftly to release the clamps. The sensation of blood flow returning to her nipples and clit seemed to bring Tara violently back to the land of the living again. Jax had barely moved back with the toy in his grasp when her body curled in on itself and she rolled onto her side with a guttural moan.

"Babe?" The clamps were dropped and forgotten as he quickly freed her from the leather restraints and took hold of her shoulder and tried to roll her back over.

"Gimme a minute." He barely heard her reply as she gasped it into the pillow.

"You hurtin' babe?" Jax was worried they'd taken the play too far.

Tara rolled somewhat stiffly onto her back, blinking at the ceiling. "That was… oh…" She took a deep breath. "I came again when you took them off. It was painful, but then… hhhhmmmmmm" She raised her arms over her head and stretched out like a cat enjoying a warm patch of sunshine; her face a pure expression of blissed-out satisfaction.

Jax chuckled. "Guess Tig's gonna have to wait a bit longer 'til he gets his shit back."

Tara didn't answer, she was still luxuriating in the afterglow; but her smile said it all.

"I'm gonna have to gag you if you're gonna turn into a biter though babe."

She cocked an eyebrow and Jax raised his palm to show her the rapidly bruising mark on his palm. When she didn't immediately disagree with the idea his cock, which had been in the process of relaxing, began to perk up again. Oh yeah, Tig was going to have to wait awhile to get his box of tricks back!

Dedicated to the Freak Circle. We couldn't ask for a more amazing group of ladies to play on the Dark Side with.