by Sophia Reed
"Too bad you're lusting for that Cole guy," she said, tipping her tequila gold at me. "We could celebrate graduation in epic style."
I smiled, giving her my best Ahh, but we'll never know how good it could have been closed mouthed grin. Knowing all along if I did chose to find out I'd have to tell Cole. And then he'd have something to say about it. The DEA training showed me what my body could do.
Cole told me what I could do with my body.
"And what are you ladies talking about over here, all secluded?" Danny draped an arm over each of us, and leered, obviously suspecting that, when left to their own devices with liquor in the mix, girls only ever talked about sex. Probably about having it together. While being watched. By a guy.
…for once in his life, he wasn't wrong. I smiled to myself. Danny would be the kind of military or law enforcement sexual harassment problem except that at twenty-four he'd been married for seven years and was obviously so in love with his wife that if another girl looked at him, he'd run screaming.
"Why, Danny? You want to watch the show?"
Okay, that was cruel of me. Usually I'm the masochist, not the aggressor.
Danny turned dangerously red and hemmed and hawed and then said, "Hell, yeah," and tipped his glass in our direction, making me and Meg laugh.
"Sorry, Charlie. We're not even going to kiss with you watching," Meg said, and winked at me.
"But you can imagine it later tonight," I added, and then a burst of laughter from a nearby table in the bar let us know some of the higher ups had arrived to party with us. I lingered for a minute, watching Meg. She was amazing looking and if I was ever gonna consider it …
But I wasn't. There were hard limits to what I thought I could give Cole. I smiled to myself at the thought of what I'd be offering him – like it or not – when I got home.
Suddenly I couldn't wait for the night to end.
6
Cole
Annie got back early morning.
Seeing the plume of dust her Jeep kicked up as she drove across the desert to the compound made me suck in breath. I'd never tell her how much I missed her. Instead, I'd take it out on her in play.
And punishment. She was coming home with a handwritten list of lines she'd been forced to write 500 times each, because she'd refused to leave the Jeep in Virginia and allow me to bring her back by private jet.
I deserved something for being forced to wait.
There were other indiscretions she told me in low voiced conversations over the 126 nights she was away. About touching herself – I was thinking about you the whole time! She told me, compounding her crime because I hadn't asked for justification. She'd missed a dawn run I'd ordered her to take. She had refused any kind of sexual email or text, not sending me any pictures.
That was a cheat. I'd known she wouldn't. I hadn't even wanted her to. The DEA appointment was too important for her. But ordering her to do something I knew she wouldn't made her concentrate on me for at least a few of her off-training hours, and gave me something to threaten her about as she returned.
"May I come in?"
I'd stepped back inside as the Jeep started into the close driveway and waited for her. She didn't need to know I'd been on the front steps, watching her come closer.
"Of course. Then kneel."
She came through the door, closed it, set her bags down, and knelt on the hardwood floor. I could sense her need to be in my arms.
And my own. I pulled her up by the biceps and wrapped her in a hug, kissing her neck and the side of her face and then her mouth. Her hands were in my hair, mine on her back, and then we tore at each other's clothing, she reached back and locked the front door and I added it to the list because I hadn't told her to, hadn't asked her or allowed it.
Didn't care. If I remembered. If not, I had a laundry list of things I wanted to do to her and "reasons" for doing all of them and mostly I just loved to make her scream and cry and then come until she pulsed around my hand or my erection and Annie?
Loved all of it.
Time to push her, then, I thought, even as I sank naked onto the couch and pulled her down to straddle me, kneeling around my legs, trying to tease by holding herself just off me.
I growled and slammed up into her. She bit her lips, eyes fluttering, then ground herself down on me, bucking her hips until I stood and cradled her, turned so I could lay her on the couch, her back against the back of it, her legs over my shoulders, and then I fucked her hard, jolting both of us, our breaths coming in gasps. Her nails raked my back. I pulled back and bit her nipples. She said my name, said Sir like she meant it, asked if she could come.
"Oh, yes, I think you better fucking come!" I pummeled her, slamming into her, and she made a sound in her throat, high and excited and then she was pulsing around me, and I was burying myself inside her, filling her, hard inside her until every drop was spent.
We collapsed together giggling, head to head, her eyes half mast in exhaustion.
"Oh, not yet," I said and scooped her up. I carried her, mostly naked, through the house, out the back door in full view of the guard shack, turning once to display her, naked from the waist down, wet and glistening. I thought Scott was on duty and he liked her, but I doubt he'd look at this display. Scott was loyal but he wasn't interested in games.
That was fine. He couldn't have her.
But I'd sell her at auction in our billionaire dinner parties and use the money for charities to fight sex trafficking. I'd let Fleet take her at some point, fascinated to see what he'd do to her.
And I'd share her with the right woman. And that we still had to talk about.
7
Annie
The instant I saw the exam table I fought. There was no way to control the reaction. I'd been hurt too many times on the damn things, controlled, displayed, assaulted.
Cole swore and put me on my feet, turned me to face it, cranked it down from whoever he'd used it with last, then bent me over it and said, "Don't fight me," in a voice that chilled me to the core.
His hands went between my legs, manipulating, making me wet and swollen and then hurting, hard fingers jabbing inside me, making me go up on my toes. I cried out and twisted against him and he said savagely in my ear, "Don't make it worse, girl."
Then he lifted me bodily, draping me so I bent at the waist across the table, the edges of the stainless steel digging into my hips, and he plunged into me again, fucking me hard this time, making me hold the table to avoid being bounced on it. Or bounced off of it. His hands came forward at one point and he nailed me to the table with his hips, with the force of his fucking, and grabbed my nipples with both hands, twisting and pinching and pulling until I screamed.
And came again, and again, and again.
Draped over the damnable table, I almost could have slept.
But Sir had an agenda. Before I understood what he was doing he had me on the table on my back, hands chained over my head, legs spread wide and tied to the stirrups and he was gathering his equipment, ready to clean me out.
"Cole, Sir, no, please, I just – "
He turned and with economy of motion, put a strip of duct tape across my mouth. Then he used a crop between my legs until he had to let me go and get myself taken care of.
I came back into the play room woozy on my feet, swaying, totally naked without asking because the open shirt had started to feel absurd and the bra shoved up over my breasts was annoying in a non-sexual way. Just in a bra-like way.
I knelt at his feet. "Sir?"
He was on the couch, a drink in his hand. Probably Coke. He tended not to drink around me. He offered a hand and pulled me up to curl beside him, his arm around me. With his other hand he fished an ice cube out of his drink and held it on my nipples until it melted, then pressed another up inside me. All of it was dreamy, as if somehow we'd both ended up in subspace no matter how much I hated the term.
Finally he pulled me down over his lap and started spanking me, slowly and dreamily, long spaces between
the thunderclaps and the pats. Eventually his fingers found their way inside.
"You're wet," he said, and used the wetness to slide his fingers up somewhere else. I squirmed against him and he gave me several hard smacks with a hairbrush I'd stupidly overlooked. His fingers went back to what they'd been doing. He didn't seem to be leading to anything.
"Do you know I'm proud of you?" he asked out of nowhere and I stilled, my mind racing. Did he mean for admitting I was a sexual submissive and masochist? For finding my way across country by myself? For getting into the DEA?
"For the training, sir?"
I could sense his smile. "That training and this," he said, and pulled his fingers out of me. I had just started to sigh with relief when they were back and he added a third. "I know you don't like it and it makes me happier to do it to you, and very proud of you for fighting and then for understanding when to give in."
"Yes, sir." It was almost a question.
"So," he continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "There's something we need to talk about."
8
Annie
The girl's name was Cassie. She was every bit as slim as Cole had said. Thin in a nonthreatening way that didn't make me feel like my recently bulked up muscle made me too big. Slim in a way that made me want to feed her a meal.
Cole brought her to the playroom in chains, her head bowed, the thin silver chains running from a collar around her neck to her wrists, from her wrists between her leg to a stainless steel butt plug. From the plug, down to her ankles. It was artistic and elegant in a deviant sexual way.
I told myself that as I fought to avoid really looking at her and to pretend I wasn't as embarrassed as I truly was.
"Over here, Cassie," Cole said, and she yes, sir'd in such a tiny voice I almost couldn't hear her.
She was very new to the scene, scared and hopeful and trying not to look at me as hard as I was trying not to look at her.
I was terrified as Cole led her to one of the padded spanking benches and chained her in place that he would not only demand I top her, but hand me a cane. My breathing was fast and ragged and there was a desert between my legs. I'd never been less turned on.
I was scared, instead. Because I didn't know what to do and what if he handed me a cane? What then? Throw it across the room and accept the consequences? Then I almost smiled at myself. It was possible to refuse without throwing things. Just say I don't feel comfortable doing this, Sir and then refuse to move.
No matter what he did to me.
Or her.
No. That I couldn't do. Because if I said no, he'd take it out on her. That was definitely the scenario going on here.
"Annie."
That was his no nonsense, Master voice. I'd certainly been hearing enough of it since coming back to Southern Nevada. Since coming back to him.
I didn't say anything, just looked at him, waiting. Trying to look accepting when I was anything but.
"Come here."
That was a direct command. Everything in me started to protest and resist. At the last second, the last second before there'd be repercussions for not going where he'd commanded me to go, I realized the best thing I could do was each thing, one at a time.
He'd told me to come to him. I could do that.
Then we'd see what the next thing was. If he handed me an implement, well? I could hold it.
And see what happened next.
9
Cole
The battle on her face was epic.
And funny.
God, she was changing me. Once I'd have been in a rage to see a sub so clearly debating what she intended to do, how far she intended to go before she either safe worded.
Or just refused.
Now with Annie I was all but smiling, watching her hesitate and move forward in little fits and starts.
Stubborn to the end, my Annie.
"Come here faster," I said.
And started a new mental list of Annie's punishable misdeeds.
10
Annie
He didn't hand me anything
Cassie lay face down on the spanking bench, naked and pale and beautiful. The craving for what was happening warred in her as it did in me. I could see her blushing darkly at the same time I could smell her arousal.
Unfortunately for Cole, that did nothing for me.
The idea of doing anything to her just scared me.
"Annie."
He'd obviously said it more than once.
"Sir?"
"Just use your hand. But I'm ordering you to try it. You don't have to fall in love with it." He laughed to himself. "You shouldn't, because if you think you're going to remain in control, my sympathies."
Whatever I did wrong, he'd correct. First on her. Later on me.
She wouldn't have a problem with that because if she did, she wouldn't be here.
I didn't have a problem with that because if I did, I wouldn't be here. I didn't have a contract. I was not running because I chose not to run. This time.
So I didn't quite understand my own reluctance. Why deny the girl what I thought she wanted? Why insist she couldn't have the same desires I did, couldn't possibly feel the same conflicting feelings?
I'd done far worse than this undercover. Anyone who thought as a narc I'd never had to fuck someone I didn't want to fuck, or perform in some way to prove myself, sexually or otherwise, as part of the gang? Even to sell drugs to children, knowing I'd be arresting the real perps didn't help that much – but anyone who thought that wasn't part of undercover was overly optimistic about how things worked in the real world.
This had become my real world, one I welcomed.
I moved over and took Cole's place, standing where he showed me. "How many, sir?" I didn't miss the flush that traveled through the girl's body, lighting up her skin at the same time she shivered down onto the bench, away from me.
"Start with 50."
I swallowed loudly, hardened my hand and my resolve, and began to hit her. I was going too fast, my palm stinging and bouncing off her ass. Cassie gave a bark of surprise, then bit hard into her lower lip.
"Slower," Cole advised. "Feel what you're doing to her. Understand the resistance of her flesh, how to make your hand harder or softer, what will be a hard stroke and what will only sting. Learn the difference between a snap and a thud."
He showed me, his spanking not even counting toward her total but I didn't think she cared. He stepped back so I could try again, and this time I went slower, which meant I could feel the way her flesh gave and jiggled under my hand, the shock waves of each blow racing through her. I got to eight before I started backing away, absolutely unable to stop myself. The rubbery feel of flesh I didn't want to touch and didn't touch voluntarily and only touched at command but the wrong command, it was too much.
I turned back to Cole, explanations and excuses and entreaties on my tongue. What I'd do in place of this if he'd just relent. Only to find his shoulders shaking, his eyes nearly closed.
I narrowed my own eyes at him. "Are you laughing?"
He shook his head, as insincerely as anyone had ever done such a thing. "Not me. I don't laugh. Big, bad Masters don't laugh at irresponsible, disobedient slaves."
Good to know.
11
Cole
She disobeyed.
It didn't go down on any list, mental or physical. She had tried and it wasn't for her and trying to continue forcing Annie to switch would be a waste of time. The masochist under her hands wouldn't enjoy the tentative, unwilling blows, and Annie wouldn't benefit from it at all. There'd be none of the growth I'd been seeing in her as she accepted both who and what she was and what she wanted, and learned to be the sub who took what was given to her, even when it horrified her.
Watching her jump away from Cassie as if the girl had just turned into a large, pink bottomed spider, though. That was priceless, worth the price of admission and Annie's disobedience.
"Go on," I told her. "Go take a shower and w
ait for me. I'll deal with you in a little while," I said in my most mock severe voice.
Annie ducked her head and all but ran out of the room. Probably she knew if she lingered I'd use her as an example of what a sub could and should on a regular basis take, and then order her to teach Cassie more of the ropes. With special attention to the fact that advice about topping from below was actionable.
Before she made it to the door, I turned back to Cassie. "And you," I said, and now I wasn't kidding. "You I'll deal with right now."
12
Annie
I got as far as the bathroom before he had a better idea and called me back. When I returned, Cassie was doubled over the edge of the bed, her arms out in front of her on the bed and her legs dangling.
Cole gestured for me to climb up on the bed and lay on my belly, facing her. Tentatively, I did so, worried what he might have in mind.
"Take her hands," he said. "Walk her through a strapping."
I wasn't sure what that would entail. It didn't seem like there was a lot to say. Okay, he's going to hit you with a strap, a canvas fire hose strap from the look of it, and you're going to scream, because it's going to fucking hurt. What else?
"Whatever you do," Cole said, and I realized there was still laughter in his voice. "No explaining topping from below."
I bit back a smile and met Cassie's eyes, surprised to find laughter there, too.
"What's topping from below, ma'am?" she asked and I instantly went rigid.
"Whoa!" Cole shouted. "There's no better way to get Annie to beat the living daylights out of you!"
At the same time I said, "Ma'am?? How the fuck old do you think I am? Call me Miss!"
