by Leigh Lennon
Rubbing at her eyes, she starts to cry. “I haven’t eaten all day, Sir. And I hate peanut butter and jelly like some people hate liver and anchovies. My dad never had money, and we ate it most of my childhood.” I have a feeling there’s so much more to the story, but I don’t have it in my heart to push her, not after seeing the puffiness in her eyes.
I knew PB&J was certainly not what most want for dinner, but I had no idea she hated it like she does. Or it would make her cry. Yet I’ve never had compassion for any girl I’ve played with. And why the hell do I think this could have all been avoided if I’d not stood my ground? Fuck, what am I saying? Was I wrong? Surely not. I, Chadwick Westbrook, can never be wrong.
Pulling at her hand, I bring her toward me. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s get you fed.”
“You can spank me now. I won’t fight you.” Her voice makes me crumple, but I can’t. I can’t let her see that she affects me this much.
“Kitten, are you sure?”
She moves her head away from me. With one fluid motion, I move her chin back to meet my eyes. “Kitten, it’s been a long day. Let’s start over. You understand now when I say something, I mean business, so let’s start brand new in the morning. For now, let’s find food that will put a smile on your pretty face.” I’d be a fuck of a Dom for not feeding a woman under my care, but I made my point, and it’s all that’s needed, but fuck, she’s made her own point and put her own mark on my heart. With her little hand in mine, I take her down the back staircase to the restaurant and order her a steak, salad, and a baked potato. In the thirty minutes it takes for her to devour her food, I sit in silence, watching her as if she is the most perfect person in this world. Is this what she is?
My head is foggy as my eyes open before the sun rises the next morning. My thoughts are still on Eve and the quick hold she has on me already. I’d love to hear her story and show her a different side of me when an idea hits me. Grabbing for my phone, I send a text to the only woman I’ve ever loved—the person I call Grams.
For a woman nearing her nineties, though she looks like she’s in her seventies, she’s very tech savvy and prefers messages over phone calls, especially since she’s on vacation. I say vacation but spending the week with my aunt Karen is its own living hell. But Grandma endures because, like my piece of shit father, she loves all her children.
Me: Do you mind if I run out to the farm to ride today?
She’ll fuss at me, but this is also my way of checking in on her.
Grams: Oh, honey, you don’t ever have to ask.
She’s the only person in my life who’s given me affection, and the only person besides my best friends I give two flying fucks about. My grandmother has been my weakness, one of the only people I’d move heaven and earth for. That is until a feisty and curvy brunette entered my life.
My grandmother has never had to say this. I’m her favorite, and this isn’t my ego, but a fact.
I pull at my phone and send my new Kitten a message.
Me: Kitten, be ready in an hour.
I don’t say anything else because why would I?
Chapter Eleven
Eve
“Where are we going, Sir?” I’ve asked him this several times from the back seat of his Town Car. “Do you not drive, Sir?” Again, he’s ignoring me. He’s given me a little hint into the non-douche part of Chadwick Westbrook for a single millisecond, and then he’s back to his overly asshole ways the next.
“Are you ignoring me, Sir?” The s in sir is emphasized just enough to get his attention. Yeah, it sure as shit has accomplished this when he swings his stare to me.
“Kitten, dial it down a little because I’d hate to spank you on this excursion of ours in my quest to get to know you better. As for me, what you see is what you get when it comes to me.”
You mean a total prick? It’s what I want to say, but I don’t. I’ve learned how my mouth needs to be a little tamer with Chadwick—at least until I can win this ludicrous fucking bet and pad my savings with a hundred K.
“It’s dialed down, Sir,” I reply, slightly emphasizing the d on down. His gaze sweeps to mine, and I can feel his stare pinning me to the window.
“Ah, good to hear this.” Now it’s his sardonic tone filling the car, but I stay quiet. It’s best for me and my ass.
Sitting in silence, I continue to study the view out the window on this already hour-long drive from his mansion sex club.
I don’t realize I’m doing it when my hands land in my mouth, and I’m biting my nails.
“Evelyn.” His voice is demanding in and of itself, and the timbre assaults my ears. What in the fuckity fuck could I have done?
I swing my eyes to his. “Yes, Sir?”
He swats at my hands in my mouth. “That’s a disgusting habit, and it needs to end now.”
I move my head to the side in order that his incessant stare can’t see the roll of my eyes. Hell, this man is bossy to the hundredth degree.
“I went through your clothes last night.” I whip my head around so fast it would normally cause whiplash.
“You what?” He bends his lips into a snarl, and I change my sentence. “You what, Sir?”
“I told you not to get used to your shit. Now, I wouldn’t just throw it away.”
He wouldn’t? That’s news to me with his controlling ways.
“But…” He pauses, indicating there’s more. “I did have it packed up and moved to storage in the club. You won’t need it. Certainly not your Betty Boop or Garfield underwear.”
I blush. Of course he went through my panties. “Don’t forget my Jetson and Flintstone underwear, too.” I’m tapping my chin because I have a whole array of cartoon undies. “Let’s see, there’s also Wonder Woman and about ten other shows I must own in the panty department, Sir.”
“Oh, yay, just what a man wants to hear. Can’t say Barney Rubble on your ample ass would be a turn-on.”
“Are you trying to change me, Mr. Westbrook, Sir?”
He ignores me, and the idea of Barney Rubble on my ass shouldn’t matter to him because he’s never going to get the chance to stare at Barney Rubble on my ass. I don’t say it out loud, just only in my mind when he continues with the inventory of stuff he considers shit.
“For a woman down on her luck, you own every color in the rainbow of Converse.” I sit straight up and want to punch the man. If he messes with my Converse, there will be war.
“And before you say anything, my kitten, I left two pairs in your closet. I was feeling generous, and because blue is clearly your favorite…” He pauses for dramatic emphasis. How in the hell did he know they were my favorite? Part of me is touched he’s been taking notes, this is until he opens his mouth again. “And because of this, I kept the blue pair and the black pair for you. No need to thank me.” His smirk has me seething, the arrogant son of a bitch. And the fucking asshole will see generous in a second when I generously punch his lights out.
I take a deep, calming breath, square my shoulders to his, and ask, “Was there anything else you deemed to be trash, Sir?”
His deep chuckle comes from his chest, and he throws back his head. “Eve, I’m going to enjoy the next month together with you.”
I turn my head from his. That will make one of us, at least, I retort in my mind.
We turn onto a long, narrow dirt driveway with the huge mansion-like farmhouse at the end. My eyes widen, and my lips open, and I’m instantly in love. The country is one of my favorite places, and to the left is a large barn with a huge horse painted on the side.
“Did you bring me to a horse farm?” I ask. My eyes have to be lighting up like a Christmas tree.
“This makes you happy?” His smile is genuine, or at least I think it is as it lights up his entire face, too.
“Yeah, I love horses. I’d dream my dad would get his shit together one day and take me riding. This never happened, but my first roommate worked at a horse farm, and we could go riding anytime we wanted. I must have begged her e
very weekend to take me. It was so freeing to be on the back of such a powerful animal.”
“Well, Kitten, if you want to be on the back of a powerful animal, all you have to do is ask.” His normal douche-like exterior returns to his face, but for a brief second, we share a moment.
Our ride had been gorgeous as we trotted to a small pond and around the hundred acres of land. The best part of the afternoon was being alone in my thoughts and not forced into chitchat with Chadwick. However, after a couple of hours, I sort of missed him, though he had never been farther than twenty feet away from me.
On the huge front porch, a maid appears with lunch and lemonade.
“I forgot to ask, is this your house?” It’s apparent Chadwick has lots of money, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had many properties.
“No, it’s my grandmother’s. I spent every summer out here, and sometimes my best friends would come with me. My grandmother is the only other person, besides the boys I grew up with, who I give two shits about in this world.” This is his way of saying he loves his grandmother.
“She’s visiting her piece of shit children who literally are only waiting on her to die so they can inherit her money. But the woman, the funniest and strongest person I know, is healthier than an ox at eighty-eight. I swear she will outlive us all, and because I love her more than anyone else on this planet, I hope she will.”
Chadwick is human after all. And with the passion which he speaks of his grandmother, I have been introduced to a whole new side of the man.
In one week, my new waitressing job has kept me busy. I work in the restaurant every evening until midnight. Afterward, I escort the hot asshole down to his dungeon. I’d never seen such depravity before in my life, but with it being consensual, it makes me want more. I find I count the minutes until Chadwick escorts me to my changing room, and I transform to the submissive he wants in me.
After a week, my body isn’t as shocked as it was the first time I entered the dungeon. No, tonight my hands are laced with the hot asshole who wants to spank me. And after a week, he still has not spanked me. Though he’s alluded to it a lot. I think he gets off on this, and sometimes, I fear the sparkle in my eyes tells him I want this. The spanking, that is.
I’m off tonight, and we retire to the dungeon earlier than most evenings. Descending the stairs to the large open space, I’m witness to Jared who has Kira suspended from the ceiling. She’s naked on display for everyone to see. Attached to her nipples are clamps which he pulls every so often. She moans as if an orgasm is about to overcome her. I can’t put into words what this does to me, but the phrase “beyond erotic” fits this scene very well. Chadwick leans down once we’re seated in his VIP section. “You can play with yourself. It’s not part of our deal that you can’t get yourself off.” With a touch of his cell phone, the lights darken in the club, leaving only Jared and Kira illuminated. She now has a vibrator inside her pussy, leaving her breathless—and me, too.
It’s open season in the club with the darkness, and the moaning throughout the space indicates others are getting off as Chadwick has said. His breath lingers on me. “Kitten, I know you’re excited. How could you not be? Just because you please yourself doesn’t mean you’re telling me you want me as your Dom.”
If I’d been wearing any panties, they would be soaking wet. My pussy is clenching without any stimulation. Kira’s on the stage, and Jared is almost as hot as the asshole sitting next to me. I’ve witnessed him over the past week, and he’s just as dominant but sweeter.
Jared’s slacks are not hiding his bulge, and I wonder if he’ll fuck her on the stage. Out of nowhere, a table with binding contraptions appears, and he’s releasing her from the restraints. Chadwick leans over, and the warmth of his breath brings the hair on the back of my neck to attention. “Kitten, suspending her with the ropes is a form of shibari. And this tantalizing table in front of Kira is called the punishing table. It can also be used to restrain her when bringing her to ecstasy.”
I turn my head to whisper in his ear. “Is he going to fuck her?” I backpedal and change my wording. “I mean, have sex with her?”
His low rumbling chuckle sets my body on fire, and from the lights on the stage, I notice his Adam’s apple constrict in his throat. How is this natural act so sensual, watching him swallow? But it’s almost as sexy as what I’m witnessing on the stage.
“Um, Kitten, when you use fuck as a verb, it’s okay. Call it what it is. You’ll beg for it, for me to fuck you.” I turn from him because he can’t see the look on my face or the glint of my eyes at the thought of him taking me every way he wants.
“I’d take care of you.” It’s more than words; it’s a promise, and if I’m a betting woman, which apparently I am, I wager he’s not made this proclamation to many. But, this might be too much of a leap on my part. Or maybe I’m just hopeful.
He leans back into my ear, and I can’t take his warm breath on my skin much longer. “Anyway, Kitten, I’m not sure if he’ll fuck her. But Jared is a kinky son of a bitch. He loves to be watched, so if I were to guess, I’d say yes.”
My reply is low but breathy. I can barely contain myself at the thought of his dick disappearing with each stroke into her pussy—then to only reappear as he pushes back into her. My imagination has always been a little on the dirty side, but the dungeon brings it out in full force. “Kitten.” Can someone come from another person’s hot breath on their skin? I may just be the first one in history. “I can’t command you. We aren’t there yet, but please, don’t be shy. Let yourself experience some release. I know you want to.”
The dress is tight, but I can pull it up to gain access to my sex. Just when I decide to let myself go, Jared loses his pants on stage and calls to Kira. “My little girl deserves a treat. So you tell me, my slave, what would you like? To be fucked hard or soft?”
My eyes don’t move from the beauty I’m witnessing before me. I’m not sure how, but my hand finds the folds of my pussy, and then moves to my swollen clit. I want to watch this unfold before me more than my need to breathe. Kira’s eyes lock on her sweet but dominant man, and in her gaze, I know her answer.
“Fuck me, Master, hard and quick if you could. I need it rough, Sir.”
I can watch with fascination at the goods on the stage, but I know I want to sample the goods next to me. I won’t give in to him, but I’ll certainly pleasure myself.
When my index finger touches my clit, the unexpected happens on the stage. “And, Slave,” Jared begins, “what if I want to watch someone else fuck you?”
Kira’s panting is heavy, and with her hooded eyes, she tells him silently her answer. “Slave, words, use your words.”
“As long as it pleases you, it pleases me, Master.”
Without averting my eyes, Taya and the hot ginger lawyer now are on the stage, and I’m taken by surprise. It didn’t take me long to realize Taya was the Domme, or should I say dominatrix, and the ginger lawyer hottie is her sub. Why do I find a male sub, especially the asshole this ginger is, so fucking hot?
“Pet,” Taya begins, “undress.” And just like he’s been instructed, Ginger is naked. And he’s glorious. I don’t go for redheads often, but shit, he may sway me. Taya is dressed different than the female subs, but it’s more her confidence because the second she’s on the stage, you know she’s in control. Opening the foil of a condom, she sheaths him and places him in front of Kira’s legs, which we in the audience get a side view of, but it’s still as hot as sin.
“Kitten, need any help?” he whispers in my ear. Do I need help? No. I’m about to come with the thought of this redheaded hottie and my friend fucking. But do I want help? Now this is a completely different question.
“No, Sir, I think I have it covered.” I turn to see a tic in his jaw, and though it’s dark, I witness the outline of his cock. It’s hard and ready to go. “But it looks like you may need some help, Sir.”
A thick groan leaves his lips. “Oh, be careful, Kitten. You don’t eve
r want to offer me something you can’t follow through on.” I hear his zipper open, and in the little bit of light between us, he unleashes his creature, and it can’t be described. I’ve always been a fan of the dick. It does its job, especially the size his is. It’d fill me up, but with a man with the size of his ego, I have no doubt he has the equipment to back it up.
“You’re staring, Kitten.” His seduction is present in his lucid timbre. “I’d say it’s unbecoming, but hell, it’s a turn-on.”
I’ve completely lost track of my focus on the stage. The idea of Chadwick’s hand on his cock permeates my mind at this moment. However, the moan and groans from the stage bring me back to the event at hand. Both Taya and Jared stand behind the table. Jared is near Kira’s head, and as my eyes bring in this vivid entertainment, Taya moves around behind the redheaded hottie.
His cock is at her entrance, and as the anticipation is about to kill me, Taya takes her flogger and smacks his ass with it. “You love when I make it hurt?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I love your pain.” His words now elicit my nipples to harden, and my other hand goes to my tit, squeezing it. Around me, not from the stage, moans are filling the air.
“Sir?” I ask. “Are other people having sex?”
“Ah, Kitten, I love how naïve you are. People are doing a whole lot of many things.” And in his explanation, I’m pushed over the edge. I try to contain my orgasm in silence, but Chadwick leans over, and murmurs, “Kitten, let it out, it’s okay.”
But even in my release, my eyes are still fixed on center stage. Taya’s movements have stilled. “Pet, suck her, eat her out. Make her come.” The redheaded wonder kneels with Kira’s legs spread eagle, and we can all see him. “Her clit, concentrate on her clit,” Taya instructs; her hands are kneaded in his hair. The nipple clamps are still on Kira as she writhes in pleasure.
