Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

  The basement was one large finished room with wall-to-wall carpeting and its own bathroom. There was even a bed in the corner of the large space, for when he wanted to make love to his chosen partner of the evening and they were too spent to make it up to the bedroom.

  Rae’s eyes were wide as she took in the St. Andrew’s Cross, the wide padded sawhorse, the punishment chair, the stocks, the large, sturdy eyehooks bolted into the ceiling and the impressive array of whips, crops, paddles, floggers and rope hung at intervals on the walls.

  Sam flashed to the one time he’d had her in his bed. She’d come hard while bound beneath him, gasping and sweating, her nipples like marbles as he squeezed and bit them. She’d rejected out of hand his suggestion of a gentle flogging, protesting a little too much that she wasn’t into “whips and chains” and demanding to know what kind of girl he thought she was.

  He was pretty sure he knew, but he hadn’t pressed. She hadn’t been ready, not then. He’d hoped to introduce her slowly to the fiery pleasures of BDSM play, but she’d ended things before they began. Now he had the chance of a lifetime. She was his, all his, for thirty glorious days.

  He watched her gazing with wide-eyed fascination at his toys and couldn’t help grinning with anticipation, though he felt almost sorry for her. But she’d agreed to the terms—thirty days in exchange for his not pressing charges for a very serious felony. She was getting off easy.

  But not too easy—he’d see to that.

  “I put your things in the bathroom,” he said, “except your cell phone. I’ll keep that safe for you.” He patted his pocket. “I’ll check your messages for you and run interference as necessary until you get back from Japan.”

  He smiled. She didn’t smile back.

  He’d stood over her shoulder while she sat at her laptop at her apartment, typing the email he dictated letting her family and friends know she was going on a trip to Japan for business, and would be back in four weeks. He’d allowed her to pack a few outfits and underwear, not that she would need any of it. He let her pack her makeup and the various things women couldn’t seem to live without. Most important was her packet of birth control pills, since he planned on fucking her regularly, once she’d earned the privilege of his cock.

  Sam rubbed his hands together. A part of him could scarcely believe she’d agreed to this setup. That same part could hardly believe he’d even come up with it. Was he really going to go through with it?

  It had been a long-held and deep-seated fantasy of his to keep a woman captive in his dungeon, having his complete way with her. He had read a novel once about a guy who was obsessed with a movie star. The guy made all these elaborate plans to kidnap and keep her in his home in the country. He kept her there for months, locking her into a cage when he wasn’t fucking or torturing her. The book had ignited something in Sam—a dark, dangerous part of his psyche that normally he kept well under wraps.

  How far would he go with Rae?

  How far did he dare?

  *

  “Take off the bra and panties. Now.” Sam’s voice was firm, the smile no longer on his face. Rae bit her lip. She felt frozen in place. He took a step toward her, his expression menacing. Instinctively she took a step back, but she reached behind herself to unhook her bra.

  You can handle this, she told herself. It’s better than jail, way better. She’d understood he was going to expect sex—that’s what being a sex slave meant, wasn’t it? At least she found him attractive and, if she were honest, the one time they’d been together had been explosive. Though she’d been put off by his kink, she couldn’t deny the way her body had responded to what he was doing, even while her mind told her it was wrong.

  She wasn’t shy about her body. She told herself just to think of this as a date. A very long, very strange date in a room full of whips and chains. A shiver ran its way up her spine. She let her bra fall to the floor and stepped out of her panties. She started to cross her arms over her body but was stopped by his command.

  “Arms at your sides. Never cover up in front of me, is that understood?”

  She dropped her arms. “That was a direct question, Rae. You failed to answer. That’s punishment number three. For a bright girl, you aren’t too swift.”

  Rae had to bite on her tongue to keep from retorting that for a smart guy, he was a fucking prick. She was pretty sure that would earn her punishment number four. The bastard was smirking at her, clearly loving her discomfort and his control over her.

  “You’re slumping. Stand proud for me. Put your shoulders back,” he ordered. She glanced at him, her lips pressed into a nervous line but he stared her down. After a moment, she obeyed, lifting her shoulders, which caused her breasts to thrust forward.

  Sam was looking her up and down, his eyes sweeping in a slow, insolent wave. He walked around her and stood close behind her, cupping one of her ass cheeks. She stiffened but didn’t dare pull away. He moved closer, so his chest was against her back, and reached around her, cupping one of her breasts. He pulled gently at the nipple, which, in spite of the situation, stiffened at his touch.

  She felt his breath warm against her neck as he leaned down, whispering, “Are you ready for punishment number one, Rae?”

  Ready? Was it a trick question? Wait, it was a direct question, so she’d better answer quickly before she got another freaking demerit. “Um, I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

  “That’s correct. You don’t.” He stepped away and moved around her, walking toward the bed. “Your first punishment will be a good, old-fashioned spanking.” He sat and patted the bed. “Come on over here and lie across my lap.”

  Rae stared at him, her body rooted to the spot. She couldn’t seem to move, even if she’d wanted to. Her heart was pounding and her breathing was shallow.

  Sam regarded her, a half-smile playing over his lips. He shook his head. “Rae, Rae, Rae,” he said with mock distress. “What am I going to do with you? You can’t even follow the most basic command.”

  He had unclipped the dog leash from her collar when they’d entered the dungeon. Now he stood and strode toward her and she saw he still had it in his hand. Before she could react, he clipped it to the collar and yanked, sending her stumbling forward. He walked briskly toward the bed, jerking her along like a naughty puppy as she cried out with dismay.

  He sat again and pulled her unceremoniously across his lap while she squirmed and struggled, too frightened to be still. With sheer brute force he held her down, a hand on the back of her neck, his other arm wrapped over her thighs, pinning her in place.

  “Calm down.” His voice was almost soothing though his grip remained tight. “I’m not going to let you go until you calm down and stay still. You earned this spanking and then some.” The hand on the back of her neck tightened and his voice was a warning. “I’m starting to think you weren’t sincere. Should we just end this now and I’ll give the NYPD a call?”

  “No!” Rae cried breathlessly. “No, I’ll be good. I promise. I’m just—I’m scared. You’re really freaking me out, Sam.” The enormity of what she’d signed up for hit her all at once and, though she knew it wasn’t going to do any good in the end, Rae couldn’t seem to stop herself. She started to struggle again, determined to wriggle off his lap and then make a run for it.

  “Damn it, Rae!” Sam lifted her and tossed her onto the bed. He wrestled her down, grabbing her wrists and yanking her arms over her head. He crouched beside her on the bed, pressing her wrists hard into the mattress. “Let’s put an end to this bullshit here and now. You will stick to the terms of our agreement or I’ll call the whole thing off, got it? I’m warning you, this is your last chance to behave. Then it’s back to embezzlement charges and an orange jumpsuit for you.”

  He loosened his grip on her wrists, but kept his large hands wrapped around them. “What’s it going to be, Rae? Your choice.”

  There was no choice and he knew it. That’s how blackmail worked, she wanted to shout at him. She managed t
o hold her tongue, however, and nodded meekly. “I’ll behave,” she said in a tiny voice.

  He glowered at her a moment longer, but at last his expression eased. He let go of her wrists and unclipped the leash from the collar around her neck. Instinctively she reached for the collar, touching the stiff leather as he maneuvered himself again to sit on the edge of the bed.

  He twisted back to look at her. “All right then. We’ll try this again. You’re going to get the spanking you deserve. Not a playful sexy swatting, but a bona fide spanking reserved for naughty little brats. I’ve half a mind to use a belt, but since this is your first punishment, we’ll start easy.”

  Rae swallowed, desperately trying to think of a way out of this, but she gave up as the frown began to return to Sam’s face. She scooted along the bed, draping herself awkwardly over his lap, her heart smacking at her sternum. She pressed her face into the bed, her entire body tense with dreaded anticipation.

  She felt his hand on her ass and jerked, but instead of spanking her, he began to stroke the skin, moving his hands lightly over her ass, thighs and lower back. She remained tensed, her muscles taut, her hands clenched into fists, but he only continued to stroke and soothe her. After a while, despite her fear, she found herself relaxing, at least a little. Her fingers unfurled and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “That’s it.” Sam’s voice was soothing though his words were not. “Take what’s coming. This is nothing compared to what I’m going to expect of you soon.”

  Rae tensed again. Were those words supposed to offer her comfort? Maybe they weren’t. Maybe he’d been deliberate in relaxing her with his touch, in lulling her into a false sense of ease just so he could turn up the tension again.

  All at once the soothing touch was replaced by a sharp sting as his hand came down hard across her left ass cheek. Rae yelped and jerked on his lap, instinctively bringing her hands back to cover the patch of fire he’d left on her skin. Sam smacked at her hands until she pulled them away.

  “Don’t do that again,” he warned, “or I’ll tie you down. Never block me when you’re being punished. Do you understand?”

  Rae didn’t answer. Three sharp blows, even harder than the first, followed in quick succession. “Answer the question.”

  “Yes! Yes, I—I understand,” Rae managed to gasp. She gripped the bedspread, clutching the fabric in both hands to keep from covering her ass as Sam’s hard palm left streaks of pain over every inch of her bottom.

  “Please, please, you have to stop! It hurts! You’re hurting me!”

  “That’s the point. You’re being punished. It’s supposed to hurt. And you spoke without asking for permission.” He smacked the backs of her thighs, one after the other as she cried out with pain, wriggling on his lap in a vain effort to twist her body away from the stinging blows.

  She began whimpering between yelps, her skin on fire, her body slick with sweat from the struggle and the fear. He was relentless, smacking her ass and thighs until finally she gave up, too stunned and exhausted to squirm.

  As she lay still over his lap she became aware of the hard press of his erection beneath her. He got hard from hitting her, the sick fuck! While she mulled this over in her outraged mind, something strange was happening in her body. The pain of a moment before seemed almost to ebb away. She could still feel the blows, but the sting was gone. Probably a neurologic reaction of her nerve endings to protect her by making her go numb, she supposed. Whatever the reason, this freed her to focus more on the hard cock that was thrust urgently against her with each smack of his palm.

  She remembered that cock—large and thick and hard as smooth, satin-covered steel when it had entered her. In spite of the bizarre situation in which she found herself, she felt her pussy moistening, a tug from deep inside causing her to shift a bit on his lap. He shifted in turn against her, his thigh pressing up between her legs, forcing them to spread.

  He stopped smacking her, now running his hands in slow circles over the heated flesh of her ass and thighs. “Let’s take your temperature,” he said, his voice low and throaty, his cock twitching beneath her.

  She didn’t understand what he meant, until he slid a finger down along the crack of her ass, stopping at her pussy. He probed lightly and pressed harder, the tip of his finger slipping inside her. She tried to close her legs but he stopped her with his knee.

  “Don’t you dare close your legs. Your body is mine to use, did you forget already?” He pushed the finger in deeper. “Hot little cunt. You’re wet, you slut. So much for all your pretend outrage and disgust—you got off on having your ass spanked.” There was triumph in his voice.

  Rae felt her face heat almost as hot as her ass. “I did not!” she shouted, before remembering his stupid fucking rule about not speaking unless asked a direct question. She bit her lip at her transgression but he seemed to let it pass.

  Again she tried to close her legs and this time he smacked her pussy, making her yelp with pain and surprise. “What did I tell you? Spread your legs as wide as you can, slut. That’s my cunt, not yours. Get that straight quick or I’ll give you a whipping with a single tail that’ll make the spanking seem like a tickle in comparison.”

  Frightened by both the threat and the tone in his voice, Rae went limp against him, allowing her thighs to fall open. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t stop the tremor that moved through her when his finger again sought and found her entrance, pushing its way inside her.

  After a moment he withdrew his finger and rubbed lightly over her clit, moving in easy circles that she had to admit felt good. Again he laughed that soft, superior laugh that made her want to slug him. He added a finger, pushing both deep into her until she groaned, unable to stop the clamping of her muscles against the invading digits.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky. “That’s it, babe. Work it. Show me what a little whore you really are.” He did something with his hand so he was both inside her and rubbing her clit. She moaned, unable to stop her hips moving in a grind against his hand.

  What was he doing to her? She groaned again, grabbing handfuls of the bedspread and hiding her face in the folds. Each time he swiveled his fingers inside her he was touching something—it was almost like she had a second clit inside, only it was different—the sensation more intense, deeper somehow, each time he strummed that sweet spot.

  Was this the G-spot she’d heard of but never really believed existed? Certainly no other man had ever found it, that was for damn sure. Jesus god, it felt so fucking good! She groaned again, and again he chuckled. Fuck him, why shouldn’t she take the pleasure when it was offered? She’d endured enough to get it! She gave herself over to the sensations, letting them fill her mind and body with a sweet, white heat that left her burning for his touch.

  He was as relentless with his fingers inside her as he’d been with his hand on her ass. Over the roar of blood in her ears, dimly she heard Sam bark, “Don’t come. You may not come.”

  Was he joking? She must have heard it wrong. And anyway, if he didn’t want her to come, he’d better stop whatever the hell it was he was doing to her. Oh, god, it felt good. So incredibly, amazingly intense, like nothing she’d ever experienced. She no longer even tried to control the writhing and shuddering of her body as he wrested the powerful reaction from deep within her.

  “Fuck. Oh, god, yes, fuck!” she heard herself shouting as her body went suddenly rigid, impaled against his hand. Beyond control, she began to thrust and gyrate as spirals of fierce, nearly intolerable pleasure wracked through her body.

  When she was finally able to stop the trembling that had overtaken her, she lay like a rag doll, her legs akimbo, her head hanging half off the bed. His fingers were still buried inside her. He moved them just slightly, but it was enough to set off a series of tiny convulsive shudders, aftershocks of the intense orgasm. Maybe, it slowly occurred to her, it wouldn’t be quite so terrible to be this man’s “sex slave” for the next thirty d
ays.

  He pulled his hand away, but she felt too limp, too sated, to move. Standing, he leaned over her, slipping his arms beneath her and lifting her from the bed. He set her down none too gently on the floor.

  “Kneel,” he commanded. “Get on your knees, forehead touching the carpet. Go on, move!”

  His words penetrated the endorphin-induced fog, the words burning it away. Though her limbs were heavy from the powerful orgasm, she didn’t dare disobey. As she scrambled into the humiliating position, he said, “I told you not to come. It was a direct order.”

  Rae lifted her head. “I couldn’t help it. Whatever you were doing, it was just—I couldn’t stop my body. If you didn’t want me to come you shouldn’t have—”

  Sam knelt suddenly beside her, jerking her head back sharply by the hair. She cried out but he kept his fingers entwined in her hair. “Don’t you tell me what I should or shouldn’t do,” he hissed. “You will learn to control your body. You will come when I tell you and not a moment sooner, no matter what is happening to you. You are my property now. My sex slave. You do my bidding. I decide, not you. Do you understand?”

  It was a direct question.

  “Yes,” she managed. “I understand.”

  And to think, a moment before she’d thought this wouldn’t be so bad.

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  “Kneel up, hands behind your head, knees spread wide so I can see your cunt.”

  Sam stood over Rae, his cock throbbing at the sight of the naked girl at his feet. She was one of those women who was always perfectly put together, her hair hanging in a glossy curtain just to her shoulders, the flawless makeup, the shiny lips as forbidden as Eve’s apple, the supple curves of her youthful body hidden in linen and silk tailored to taunt without revealing much.

  Now she was his—naked and at his mercy, her hair tousled, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, no trace of lipstick on that pouty mouth. She stared up at him, biting her full lower lip, the fear in her eyes like an aphrodisiac.