“You can eat and drink just fine. Put your panties back on.”
With hesitation, I climbed off the bed. My legs felt strange when I moved them, and it seemed like there was a giant stick up my butt. I tried to move smoothly and normally.
“Is it safe to bend over?”
Clay gave me a look which implied I’d said something ridiculous, but I didn’t understand.
“It’s not going to harm you. Just do what you’d normally do.”
“Okay.” I nodded but I wasn’t completely confident. I trusted Clay not to hurt me, but I didn’t really understand how all that biology stuff worked or where it all went, and that worried me a little.
“Put your panties on. If I have to repeat myself, you’re getting a spanking.”
I flushed with heat remembering the last time he’d spanked me. It had been sexy and punishing at the same time. The downside was, I doubted he’d give me a pass from dinner, even for long enough to come, so if I earned a spanking now, I’d probably be struggling with even more odd sensations coursing through my body, more arousal, more need, the entire time we were downstairs.
The butt plug was doing more than enough to drive me crazy with distraction.
I reached down for my underwear and carefully stepped into it. The plug wiggled a little, sending pings of heat straight to my clit.
“How do you feel?” he asked, once I was dressed again.
“It’s a lot sexier than I expected,” I confessed, as my face got far too hot.
“Now you’re gonna focus on that plug, and the man who put it there. Every time you feel uncertain or worried, remember what I can make you crave. Remember what I’ve done to your body and what I can do in the future.”
I moaned a little, unable to control myself.
“That’s right. You’re mine now, and wherever we are, I control your body.”
“Please fuck me,” I murmured weakly, unable to concentrate on anything else at all.
“Later. Right now, we have barbecue to eat.”
I wondered if it was possible to die from pent-up arousal, since the pressure inside me was so intense, but Clay took my hand and led me downstairs without further discussion, so I guessed I was going to pull through.
Sitting on a chair in the kitchen, I felt the plug nudging my insides and reminding me of Clay’s control. It was so distracting.
“C’mon, missy, you can microwave this lot while I go out to the patio and get the outdoor fireplace going.”
Clay put a big pile of leftover food on the table, still boxed. I got up and slowly moved to the microwave while he left through the back door. Several minutes later, I carried the food outside, where Clay had started a fire in an odd metal thing that was sort of stove-shaped. The scent of burning wood filled the air. Chairs were arranged on the paving slabs and overall it looked more cozy than Lawson’s backyard.
I put the food on an upturned wooden box and sat down, wincing slightly as the plug was jolted again. Clay got himself a beer and put a cherry Coke down before sitting next to me. With the stars twinkling above us, the evening was a relaxing haven from the long day we’d had.
“This a private party?” A man’s voice called over a fence.
I looked up and saw blond hair. Jake.
“Come on over!” Clay said. My heart sank. It was bad enough that there was a plug in my ass. Trying not to show it in front of a visitor was just too humiliating. I wriggled, unable to stop myself.
Jake made himself at home, pulling up a chair beside the fire. I busied myself eating my food and trying to pretend there wasn’t a ginormous lump of plastic in my butt.
“How were Lawson and Alana when you last saw them?” Jake asked Clay while we all got stuck into the re-heated beef.
“Surprisingly calm. They got a room at the hospital and said they wouldn’t need us for a day or two.”
“Do babies take that long?” Jake wondered.
Clay shrugged. “Guess so. Never had one, so I can’t speak from experience.”
I giggled at the idea of Clay being pregnant, because it was an utterly ridiculous mental image.
“How’s your food?” Clay asked me pointedly.
“Mmmm,” I replied through a mouthful of food. The barbecued food was good. Real good. I’d never had barbecue like that. I was sure it existed somewhere in Alabama, but there was a difference between something being available and being able to get it. I hadn’t had a car or money, which had pretty much left me stranded in my small town. There were few vacancies in Siddle, and they tended to go to friends of the family. My mom wasn’t really friends with anyone’s families, so my resumé didn’t have a chance.
“This sauce... I can’t believe someone made this! It’s amazing!” I said after swallowing a mouthful of the sort of beef that had just fallen apart in my mouth.
“It complements the beef pretty well, don’t it?” Clay nodded wisely, his response to the food far more measured than mine. I got the impression he ate stuff like this all the time.
When I had an acting contract, I couldn’t wait to buy whatever food I liked. I would try all of it. Not at the same time—I knew I’d need to watch my weight if I wanted to act—but I was confident that the occasional fancy meal wouldn’t be a problem.
“Lawson’s the barbecue king,” Jake added. He and Clay got to talking about horses and I savored the quiet time because I didn’t know what to say around someone else.
I ate two big plates of food while they talked about so many things and my ass started feeling a little sore, but I didn’t want to say anything and ruin this cozy evening.
“Well, I better get back to the stables,” Jake said at last, standing up. “Nice to meet you, Kinsley.” He nodded to me, then left.
A few seconds later, I was finishing my cherry Coke when my ass twinged around the plug and I gasped.
“How’s that butt plug feeling?” Clay asked, fixing me with his intense gaze again. It was like he just knew.
I contemplated how to answer while I finished my latest mouthful of food.
“It’s a little sore. I think it’s getting dry, but I don’t know if that even makes sense.”
“Yeah, the lube will only last so long, and since it’s your first time, your ass will be more aware of the new sensations. It’s been in for about a half-hour so you did really well. Eat up and we’ll go upstairs to take care of it.”
A wave of heat ran through me. I’d known since he put the plug in my ass he was going to want to do something very depraved and naughty when he took it out, but it suddenly got a lot more imminent.
A knot of tension tried to constrict my belly, and swallowing the last of my food was hard. I wasn’t afraid of Clay, I realized, I was worried about letting him down. We’d had sex once already, and I wasn’t sure what I could do differently that would ensure he had a good time. Especially since I wasn’t exactly very experienced.
I didn’t want to disappoint him.
“Hey, you okay? You look gloomy,” Clay remarked.
“Yeah. Fine. Just... got lost in thought, I guess.”
“C’mon, you can have more food after.” He held out a hand and I took it, not wanting to disappoint him.
* * *
Kinsley
In Clay’s room again, the functional but tidy decor was starting to feel familiar. So was the sense of uncertainty, as I wondered what he was going to do with me this evening.
He closed the door and stepped closer to me. I stopped breathing. The scent of his shower gel was strong in the air and it mingled with his natural, masculine musk.
His fingers dipped under the hem of my T-shirt and slid it upwards, until I had no choice but to raise my arms and let him pull the shirt over my head. He discarded the shirt. A moment later, he reached down and unfastened my skirt, tugging it past my hips. It fell to the floor and I gasped as the evening air swirled around me. I was still not used to standing before him so undressed, and a flush stole over me as I realized his hand was already snak
ing around my back. He unclasped my bra and it snapped open, falling away immediately and revealing my breasts. Deciding to level the playing field a little, I reached for his shirt, but he grabbed my wrist and shook his head.
“We do this on my terms, missy,” he chided. He released my wrist and slipped his fingers into the waistband of my panties, easing them down until they joined my skirt.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, imagining all kinds of depraved and messed up things.
“I’m going to deal with that plug, first, and take things from there. Bend over the bed.”
I moved to climb onto the mattress but he put his hands around my waist and stopped me. “That’s not what I told you to do. Bend over the bed.” He swatted my ass and a riot of flame broke out across my skin.
Leaning forward felt scary with the plug in my ass and no panties to stop it coming out. Luckily, I was fairly flexible, and my face touched the bedspread while my ass stuck up high into the air.
“Spread your legs.”
I wiggled my feet wider, but Clay wasn’t happy with that, so he nudged them further apart with his foot. It had the added effect of making it easier for my face and arms to rest on the bed, so I didn’t complain. Anyway, being manhandled like this made my belly ache to be filled.
His fingers touched the plug and I winced, clenching my ass tightly in response to the sudden sharp discomfort.
“Let go or I’ll spank you again,” he ordered.
“Sorry,” I offered, making an effort to relax my butt muscles. He tugged gently on the plug and I had to fight to resist the urge to clench. The sensation of someone pulling something out of my ass was just as weird as how it had felt when he’d put it in.
Once it was out, however, my ass closed around nothing and I felt it winking every few seconds.
“Sore?” he asked.
“Not now,” I replied.
“Good. Because I’m gonna pound your pussy so hard, you’ll think you just gave birth.”
I descended into outright laughter, because the idea was so ridiculous. Then he began tickling me and I fell forward, wriggling around on the bed and laughing harder.
He rolled me onto my back and pinned me there. The sensation of his fingers became lighter. They danced over my naked flesh, tracing patterns of sensual tingles over my belly. Moving upwards, he lightly touched my breasts, his fingers so gentle I moaned as the nerves glowed.
This was a different kind of control to the time when he’d spanked my ass. He could turn me to a puddle of tapioca by barely touching me. The same raw power defined his actions. He was proving he didn’t need to do much to make my body respond exactly the way he wanted.
I arched my back, offering myself to him. I craved his touch. Needed his control. The depth of my desire scared me a little, but I was too lost in a haze of pleasure to spend any time thinking about my fear.
His fingers swirled around my white flesh, never touching the pink. Teasing me. Tantalizing me. I wriggled my hips from side to side hoping some friction would give me relief.
“No fair,” I pouted.
“You’re starting something you might not be able to finish. Are you sure you want to go here?” His fingertips spiraled in tiny circles, all the way up to my collarbone, and I had the mental image of him putting his hand around my neck, squeezing, cutting off my air while I let him. It was unusually extreme and didn’t quite fit with my regular fantasies. What was happening to me?
“What do you mean?” I asked, struggling to concentrate through the rhythmic throbbing of my clit, stoked by the way he was touching me.
“I’ve been holding back,” he admitted, as his fingers continued their salsa. “I want to do very bad things to you. I want to hurt you. To make you cry, so I can bring you back from despair and drive you into the highest climax of your life.”
“Then why don’t you?” I asked, as every part of me silently urged him to take what he wanted from me.
He paused, and when I looked up, I saw the obvious conflict on his face.
“You have to want it, too. It doesn’t work, otherwise. I’m stronger than you, I could easily overpower you, but I don’t want to take it by force. I want you to give yourself to me, of your own free will. Submission should be your gift to me, not my robbery from you.”
I didn’t hesitate before replying. “Please. Do it.” My voice broke as I said the words. If he didn’t, I thought I might implode from pent-up need.
Chapter 7
“We think too much and feel too little.” — Charlie Chaplin
Kinsley
“Tell me your safeword,” he prompted.
“Green means I’m fine. Orange means I’m struggling. Red means stop,” I recited.
“Good girl. You’ll need them, this time.” Without further explanation, he picked me up, putting me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, giving him easy access to my ass as he carried me out of the room, taking care through the doorway. He crossed the floor and I watched his butt move, clenching and releasing, left cheek, right cheek, while he ascended the staircase to his attic space.
In the top of the house, he lowered me to the ground and helped me balance with hands around my upper arms.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Then that’s, ‘yes, sir,’ from now on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Better.” He reached out and wrapped his big hand around my throat. In his bare arms, the huge muscles flexed a little, hinting at the raw power he possessed. I relaxed into it, letting him take control, allowing him to do what he wanted with me.
Silently begging him to.
“You’re gonna do exactly as I say, or you’ll find yourself over my knee, little miss.”
“Yes, sir,” I chanted.
“You’ve been stealin’ apples from my orchard, haven’t you?”
My heart did a squee as I realized he wanted to role play. Improvisation was one of my favorite things to do. I inferred we were pretending it was a hundred years ago, on a ranch, but I needed more cues from him before I could be certain.
“Yes, sir. I stole the apples. But they were so ripe and delicious looking, sir!”
“You know what happens to naughty young women who steal from cowboys around these parts?”
I shook my head, pretending innocence. “No, sir.”
“You’re on my land, which means you’re at my mercy.” Hand still around my throat, he marched me, making me step backwards, trusting him not to lead me through any furniture. I reached the wall, but I didn’t slam into it. He had been carefully guiding me the entire time.
“You took my ripe fruit. I’m going to take yours, now. You’re a wayward young woman and you need to learn the error of your ways. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ask me to teach you a lesson about what happens to apple thieves.”
I had to ask? My mouth didn’t want to form the words, and I hesitated for a couple of seconds before I responded.
“Please, sir, teach me a l-l-lesson... uh... about what happens to apple thieves,” I parroted eventually.
He moved closer to me. His eyes were on my lips. I parted them, ready for him to kiss me. Instead, he growled, “Get on your knees.”
Wrong-footed, I sank down. My eyes were only a few inches above his cock, which was thick and hard already. The veins stood out. A sparkle of liquid waited on the tip. My pussy spasmed.
“Ever sucked a man’s cock before?” he asked.
I shook my head, flushing with embarrassment as I admitted my lack of experience. “No, sir.”
“Then I’ll have to teach you how to do it. Open your mouth. Don’t let your teeth touch my shaft.”
I parted my lips. My eyes were fixed on his cock. Slowly, I moved my head forward until the tip was close. I licked the droplet of clear liquid. It tasted salty and potent; a distilled version of Clay’s masculine musk. His essence. I fell into a reverie as his thick cock
slid into my mouth. The heat of his steely flesh against my tongue was mouth-watering.
He reached down and put one hand on my head. I felt so powerless. He thrust into me a little deeper, until the tip of his flesh pressed against the back of my throat. At first I choked a little. His fingers swirled in my hair, reassuring me that he wasn’t going to do anything that might harm me.
“Try to relax your throat. Don’t fight it. Fear will make it harder to submit,” he coached. I would have nodded, but that was impossible in my current position.
I had to trust him. I did trust him. But was that enough to overrule my survival instincts, which clearly thought I was in danger when he pressed his cock like that, poised to go down my throat?
I tried to give myself over to the scene. He was an old-fashioned cowboy from the old west and I was a naughty young thing who he’d caught stealing apples. He could do anything he liked to me on his ranch.
“If you suck my cock real nice, I might just forget about one of those apples,” he drawled. I tumbled over the edge into the simple bliss of submission, giving myself over to obeying him. I let his hands guide my head, slowly moving me up and down his shaft. It felt so good to let him take control. He contented himself with shallow thrusts for a few minutes, before pausing momentarily.
“Take a breath.”
I did. I was mesmerized by the joy of this act. I knew what he was about to do, and I wanted him to. Needed him to make me.
He pushed in deeper, his tip nudging the back of my throat gently, then more persistently. I tried to relax. He pushed in all the way, sliding back out again carefully. The sensation was foreign and laced with an edge of uncertainty. He did it a second time, and my body turned to jelly. Only his hands in my hair held me up.
I choked as he pulled out again. He rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, soothing me.
“You did really well. We’ll try that again some other time. That’s one apple you’ve atoned for. Two to go. Right now, I’m going to tie you to that tree over there and make you work off another apple.”
Take Me Hard: Arizona Heat 3 Page 7
