by Jasmin Quinn
She waited as the minutes ticked by, wishing he would return but also dreading it. He’d been so angry with her, the heat rolling off him in waves. Why did he do this? Chain her like this as punishment or to remove himself so he wouldn’t hurt her? Or maybe she’d just changed the rules? Maybe with her attempt to seriously injure him, all bets were off. What if his promise not to injure her was revoked?
She took a deep breath, not sure what to do, then almost laughed out loud. Maybe what she should do was stay naked and chained in the playroom, waiting for him to return to her, either to kill or punish her. That seemed like a good option given her limited ones. She tried to turn her thoughts from him, tried to think about her world, the world she would return to Monday morning if she survived the weekend. Would it be forever changed by what Jack did to her, told her? Would she still have a job, a life, a world worth keeping? Would any of it matter?
The door opened again, light from the hall drawing her attention away from her churning brain. Jack was back. Her stomach roiled as he walked up to her. He was clean again, hair wet, all traces of blood gone. The slash in his chest, held together by some butterfly band-aids. Still pajama pants, low on his hips, still dark, hard, chiseled. “How are you, Mira?” he asked. The anger gone or buried, the cruel mob boss back. He stood before, hands on his hips, waiting for her to answer.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He scowled. “I asked how you were, Mira.”
Mira took a breath, deciding on her response. “My hand hurts.” It was feeble, but it was an answer.
It appeared to satisfy Jack as he reached down and uncuffed her legs, folding her thighs together with biting fingers and helping her straighten up so she didn’t lose her balance. Then her hands. She crossed her arms across her chest as the cuffs fell away, stood in front of him, shivering, wary of what he was going to do next. He grasped her by the wrists and pulled her arms away from her chest forcing her palms up and inspecting the cuts. “You’re a little fool. Why would think you could overpower me enough to kill me?” His voice was quiet, his inflection gentle.
Mira’s heart leapt to her throat choking her with its fear. She almost wanted his anger back, at least she understood that.
“I’ve been in a few fights, have a few scars. I’ve even been shot once. No one who’s ever attacked me has lived to brag about it.” He was probing her cuts with his fingers, almost mechanically.
Mira started quaking. “Please don’t kill me.”
He looked up from her hands into her eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you this weekend and look at this. Look what you’ve done to yourself.”
The salty sting of tears bit her cheeks. “Please don’t kill me.”
He sighed and pulled her to him, encasing her in his arms. “I couldn’t kill you even if I wanted to.”
She started sobbing against his chest folding her hands into small fists, pushing between them, trying to create a barrier. “I don’t know what to do, Jack. I can’t accept this.”
He stroked her hair. “You will, Mira.”
Eight
Jack cleaned the cuts on her hands with such care that she felt a tug in her chest. First her body betrayed her, now her heart was about to. He wrapped her right hand in soft gauze. Most of the cuts weren’t deep, except for where the shard of glass dug into her palm as she grasped it. But she would live. That’s what Jack said, and she took it to heart.
They were in his bathroom and as he washed the blood off her body, he talked to her. “You’ve not been well-behaved this morning. I had a plan for our play today. I can’t decide whether to alter it.”
She stood in front of him, her eyes glued to his chest, her body shivering. It was not from cold. He pushed her chin up with his fist, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I have to though. You can’t do what you did and go unpunished.”
“Jack,” Mira trembled.
“Perhaps I should let you choose.”
“Don’t.”
“Follow me,” Jack said and walked out of the bathroom. Mira stood alone, bewildered, not sure what to do. Her legs made the decision for her as they trailed behind of their own accord. He walked to the play room and stood waiting for her as she walked up to him.
“Open the door, Mira. Hold it for me, follow me in and close it.”
Mira obeyed. She couldn’t quite understand why she was suddenly so compliant, but thought it was related to Jack’s talk of punishment. She didn’t want more of what he was thinking, like last night when he paddled her. She followed him over to the king-sized bed. “Sit down,” he said softly as he sat on the edge and patted the spot next to him with his palm. The skin on Mira’s arms pebbled as she obeyed. Was it anticipation or fear?
“Mira, did you try to kill me today?”
Mira looked at his chest, not into his eyes. “Yes… no. I don’t know.”
“What then?”
She bit her bottom lip, she didn’t know how to answer. “You want me to be something I’m not,” she stuttered, clasping her hands together, trying to conceal the slight shake. “You won’t let me talk. You won’t tell me what I need to know.”
“You’re wrong about what you want. And because you’re resisting, you won’t hear me when I tell you what you need to know.”
Mira blinked back her tears. They were going around in circles. “I don’t want you, Jack.”
Jack laughed, loud and long. “Yes, you do, Mira.” He drew his fingers through the folds of her pussy, then brought them up and showed them to her. “You’re wet, baby. You’re sitting in front of me shivering in anticipation.”
“It’s fear.”
He forced his fingers past her lips. “Taste yourself, Mira. Does that taste like fear?” She let his fingers invade her mouth but did nothing to welcome them. He leaned into her, his expression unyielding. “Suck them Mira. Suck them like you sucked my cock.” While she sucked at his fingers he slid his other hand to her pussy, stroking it, thumbing her clit, moving in and out of her vagina in concert with her sucking. “How do you feel, Mira?” She dropped her eyes to his hand. How did she feel? She was coming undone. It was like he was forcing her to come, but then he withdrew his hands, from her mouth and her pussy.
“It’s like giving yourself a blow job, isn’t it?” He wiped his wet fingers across her thigh leaving a trail of her juices behind. “So, now that we’ve determined that you do want me, let’s talk about your punishment. You have to understand that you cannot knock tables over, you cannot try to harm me, but most importantly, you cannot cause yourself harm.”
“Why does that matter?” Mira asked, not sure if she should.
He brought his hands to her shoulders, drawing them down her arms, over to her breasts, flicking her nipples. “Because I don’t want you hurt. If anyone else harmed you, I would kill them. But when you harm yourself, I have to punish you.”
“Why does it matter to you that I not be hurt?” It was perverse, her pursuing this line of questions. But for some reason she wanted to know, needed to know. She hated this room, hated Jack, but at the same time, felt safe and cared for in his presence. It was so contradictory.
Jack shrugged caressing her arms. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever dreamt about, lost sleep over. Wanted to keep.”
Mira shivered involuntary. “Are you going to keep me?”
Jack hesitated and then, “No. I brought you here for a reason. Once you’ve accomplished what I need you to do, then you and I can talk. You have to be with me willingly.”
“That’s a bit contrary, Jack.”
“I know.” He leaned towards her and kissed her lips softly. “Your distracting me from your punishment. You have two choices, Mira. You must choose one.”
Mira drew her bottom lip between her teeth and bit at it. Did he want her to answer him? Did he want her to ask what the choices were? She looked up and saw him gazing at her with half-lidded eyes, gazing at her teeth raking her lip. She was turning him on. She flushed and forced her lips toget
her.
He smiled at her as he picked up her hand and brushed the back of it with his lips. “You could do anything and I would find it sexy, but if you’re trying to distract me from your punishment, you shouldn’t. It will just mean that the punishment will get more intense. Do you want to know what your choices are?”
“No,” Mira whispered, casting her eyes down to the hand Jack was stroking.
He lifted her chin with his free hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Do you want me to choose for you?”
She sucked in a breath as his face creased into a smile. “No,” she shook her head. “I’ll choose. Please tell me the choices.”
He removed his hand from her chin and stood up, taking a few steps away from her then turning to face her. “Your first choice, my dear Mira. You will wear an anal plug, while you are whipped on your ass with a belt. 20 lashes, not gently. Afterwards, you will beg me to have anal sex with you.”
A small sob escaped Mira’s throat, but she hung on to her tears. How could she choose that? How could she submit to anal sex, let alone beg him for it? He waited, letting the silence lengthen. Finally, she asked, in a voice so soft she wasn’t sure he could hear, “What’s the other option?”
“You will still wear the anal plug, Mira.” She cringed. “You will masturbate in front of me, twice. Bringing yourself to an orgasm each time. The first time will just be you and your beautiful fingers. You will let me tell you what I want to see and then you’ll do it. The second time, you will use a vibrator and fuck yourself with it, until you come. And then after that, you will beg me to fuck you and you’ll come again, while I’m fucking you.”
Mira whimpered. “Those aren’t choices. They’re demeaning. Let me do something else. I’ll clean up the mess, I’ll cook for you, I’ll crawl if you want.”
Jack chuckled. “I do want you to crawl for me, Mira. But no, you won’t clean or cook for me. Not ever. That’s not your role and it’s hardly a punishment if you’re willing to do it.”
“You’re trying to humiliate me!”
“I am trying to teach you, Mira. There is more to sex than vanilla sex. There’s no shame in what I’m asking you to do.”
“You are not asking me to do it. You’re forcing me to.”
Jack drew his breath in slowly. “That’s not true, Mira. I’ve asked and you’ve complied. You even begged me to fuck you.”
Mira dropped her head, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. He was twisting her words, enjoying her discomfort.
He sat down then, in an armchair next to the bed, leaning his elbows on the chair’s arms and clasping his hands in front of him, holding them up. “Look at me, Mira.”
She hesitated.
“Look at me!” he shouted, and she jerked her head up. “Stop hiding your face with your hair. If you do that again, I’ll cut it off.”
“I’m sorry,” Mira said quickly. She wasn’t so vain that the threat of him cutting her hair stirred her. But it was her veil in life and she didn’t want to let it go.
“You’re trying my patience.” His words were sharp. “Choose now or I’ll choose.”
She felt her body shake. Choose? How could she? But she knew she didn’t want him to take her anally.
“The second option,” she whispered, then dropped her eyes. She doubted she could come for him as he watched her, instructed her. But she had to try. She couldn’t conceive of the first option.
“Excellent,” he said, sitting back in his chair, crossing his legs. “Come to me, Mira. Stand in front of me.”
Mira got up off the bed and shuffled forward. She already felt exposed and he hadn’t made her do anything yet. He ran his hands down the sides of her waist, looking into her face. “Shall we start then?”
No, please no. “Yes.”
He stood, forcing her to take a step back from him, then turned her round and pushed her into the chair he’d been sitting in. “Stay still,” he said as he walked away to the cabinet again. He returned with a pink vibrator in his hand. Her stomach clenched as he set it on the small table beside her. Then he held up the anal plug. It was glass, with a knob on the end of it shaped like a large round diamond. Like jewelry for her ass, she thought sourly. Not large like she imagined it would be, but not small either. It would stretch her. She would feel it. He dropped to his knee and brought it down to her pussy, running it through her folds, pushing it into her vagina. She flinched away from it, it’s coldness, it’s hardness.
“Let me tell you a couple of things to put you at ease, Mira.” But he wasn’t looking into her face, he was staring at her pussy as he ran the plug up and down her folds. “You’re wet, Mira. Are you excited?” His eyes shifted to her face, waiting for her to answer.
“No, I’m not excited, Jack. I’m terrified.” Did he have any empathy at all?
“You’re not terrified.” And he proved his point by running his finger over her clit and jolting her. He grinned at her response to him. “This anal plug won’t hurt too much and your muscles will get used to it quickly. These toys, all of them in here, are new. I bought them for you. They’re yours, only for you.” He pulled the anal plug away from her pussy and held it up to her, in all its wetness. “You’ve lubed it but I’m going to give you a break.” He stood and walked over to the cabinet again, returned with a small purple pump bottle, like hand soap, but Mira knew it was not. He handed the plug to her, forced the diamond into her fingers.
“I want you to lube it and then insert it.”
Mira shook her head. “I can’t do that, Jack. I don’t know…” She didn’t finish because it sounded foolish. It wasn’t rocket science. Lube it and shove it in. Her hands were shaking so bad, she almost dropped the plug. Jack wrapped his hand around hers, holding it.
“Is your ass virgin, Mira?”
Mira nodded, then as he furrowed his brow, said, “Yes.”
He took the plug from her and handed her the lube. Put some in your left hand. A good amount. You can use the leftover for your pussy.”
Mira took the lube, and squeezed a small amount into her hand, then more. She handed him back the bottle, holding the small pool of liquid carefully in her palm so it didn’t slide out. It was cold and felt like loose jelly. She hated it. He reached into her hand, drew a finger through the lube. “Open yourself, put your legs over the arms and slide your bottom to the edge of the chair.
Tears slipped from Mira’s eyes as she followed Jack’s instruction. How could something like this be at all sensual? She dropped her head back against the back of the chair, exposing her neck and staring at the ceiling. She didn’t want to watch. Jack brought his lubed finger to her anus and ran it around the ring of her ass rubbing the lube, then sliding a finger in, just up to the knuckle, playing with the hole, circling it, tugging at it, not gently or patiently. She felt pressure in her belly, a bit of pain as he played, but a heat too, in her pussy, radiating outward. Then he withdrew and put the plug in her hand, cold and glassy to the touch. Hard, no give.
“Mira, look at me.”
She dropped her eyes from the ceiling and looked into his face, trying to maintain a blankness. Trying to keep her breathing even. “Lube it. It’s going in whether you lube it or not. I suggest you lube it.”
Mira reached over to the plug, grasping the hard diamond knob and rolled it in her hand, through the lube until Jack said, “Hand it to me, now.” She obeyed, and then sucked in her breath as he ran it along her pussy, it’s coolness a contrast to the hot wetness on her thighs. As he slid it in to her ass, she jerked a little, at the small slice of pain, at the invasion. She wanted to push it out, but Jack kept pressure on it until she settled. “Keep it in, Mira. It stays until I say otherwise. Understood?”
“Yes,” Mira nodded. Her voice was barely audible. Such a strange invasion to have. A different sensation and every small shift of her body caused her ass to clench on it, causing a ripple of heat to course through her, a cramping and a heaviness, creating a need in her pussy. Jack grinned as h
e watched, then he stood up, and brought over a matching arm chair placing it in front of her, a few feet back. He sat in it, and crossed his legs, watching her. “Keep your right leg over the armrest. Bend your other leg so that your foot is on the cushion.”
Mira did as he said, more exposed than she’d ever been in her life. She was visibly shaking and that seemed to fuel Jack’s excitement as he drew in a sharp breath. “Push your back out a little, Mira. So your tits are thrust up. Squeeze them, I want to see your hard nipples.” Then he stopped talking as she ran her hand down her pussy, wiping the excess lube off, then squeezed her breasts with both hands, running her fingers across her nipples, pinching them to hardness. It wasn’t nearly as sensuous as Jack’s touch. How could it be? But it did the trick. Pleasure snaked through her ending at her pussy, her clit crying out for attention.
She closed her eyes and waited for instructions but was met with his silence. She slid her lids up a fraction and caught his stare, unfettered, unguarded, mesmerized by her. It gave her a sudden thrill to know that she could have this affect on him. It was perverse but enthralling at the same time.
“What do you want, Jack?”
“Whatever you have to give, Mira.”
She smiled more to herself than him, then dropped her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes again, her mind leading her back to this morning, in the bath, on the table. She brought her fingers to her neck and ran them down each side, then slowly, so slowly, softly, she pulled at her breasts. Kneading them, pinching her nipples, drawing a finger into her mouth and wetting it, then rubbing it across her nipple. She drew her hands down to her belly, and caressed it, caressed her waist, back to her breasts and down again. Shifting her hip, she ran her hands over her the sides of her ass, the bite of the paddle still fresh, mingling her pleasure with pain and causing an ache in her pussy.
She thought of Jack, his head between her legs, his lips on her pussy, tonguing her. “Fuck,” she moaned softly, but he heard her and let out a jagged breath. She opened her eyes a sliver, watched him watching her. His show. His whore. She drew her finger down the trench between her thigh and her pussy, then traced her folds, letting them lead her to her clit. She raked at it with a nail, shivers cascading down her spine, pushed her thumb against it, thinking of Jack as he held her down by the neck and fucked her from behind. Her other hand was clutching at her breast, squeezing it. Never as good as Jack’s touch.
