by Anthology
“It’s not a name,” I whisper, forcing her to lean in closer so she can hear me. “It’s a title.”
“A title?” she breathes, her ample bosom heaving with excitement.
“Sir,” I say in a low voice, and her eyes flicker. “I like to be called Sir once in a while.”
“Oh,” she whispers.
“Do you think you’d like that?” I want to know.
She inhales nervously. “What do you mean?”
“Do you like to be controlled, Ava?” I ask. “To submit to a man, surrender your free will to his to please him—and receive pleasure in return.”
“I-I-I’ve never done that before,” she stutters. “It sounds kind of scary.”
“Just scary? Or scary exciting?” I ask.
She smiles. “Scary exciting.”
“Do you want to try it out?” I want to know.
“Tonight?” she asks, and I nod.
“Yes, tonight, Ava,” I say. “Maybe even start right here, right now.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, actions speak louder than words,” I tell her. “And sometimes, it’s easier to let actions speak instead of words, wouldn’t you agree?”
She nods silently, her eyes hanging onto my lips.
“I work with punishments, and rewards,” I continue. “And if you’re willing to do something for me right here, right now, you’ll get rewarded like a good girl.”
“What kind of reward?” she asks.
“Wouldn’t you want to know what you have to do first?” I wonder.
She bites her lower lip and nods.
“I want you to get on your knees, right here, next to the table, in front of me and for everybody else to see,” I whisper. “I want you to display your will to submit.”
She inhales audibly, shivering with excitement at my demand. Her eyes browse the room, searching for any potential onlookers. The restaurant is crowded, but of course most people are engaged in their own conversation, too busy to cast any attention our way. That might change if she actually does what I just told her to do.
Her gaze returns to me, and her expression changes. She nods with determination.
We don't lose eye contact even for a second when she finally stands up, fixing her dress, before she slowly goes down on her knees in front of me, placing that perfectly round ass on her heels and her hands on her thick thighs as she looks up at me. A few heads turn our way, but most people don’t notice the little goddess sitting in front of me, going a considerable length to show her submission to me.
The corner of my mouth rises and I reach my hand out to help her back on her feet.
“Good girl.”
Chapter 7
Ava
We walk along an elegantly lit hallway with dark red carpet and the same shining gold details that were present in the hallway downstairs.
The corridor is not very long, a lot shorter than I expected. Derek aims for one of the last doors on the right and produces a card to open it quickly.
I gasp with wonder when he beckons me to walk through the door behind him. I expected a beautiful, lavish room, but this exceeds everything I could have imagined. First of all, it's not a room but a suite. We are standing in a living room with lavish furniture in warm colors. A sofa with dark red fabric and two armchairs in the same style are placed in the far left corner of the room next to a bar table that is equipped with all kinds of drinks, a shaker and different kinds of glasses. The entire room is held in the same colors as the hallway and the reception area of the hotel. Light walls with high ceilings and elaborate stucco, a dark red carpet that matches the furniture and golden details at the door that presumably leads to the connected bedroom.
“Wow, this is...,” I utter, slowly stepping forward. “Too much.“
Derek steps behind me and places his hands on my shoulders.
“You delicate little flower,” he whispers. “I want nothing but the best for you tonight. This is not too much, trust me.”
This must be a dream. This cannot honestly be happening right now. Just a few weeks ago, I was standing at our office's Christmas party, stuffing my face with mini quiches as I got handed a present I never asked for.
Never in a million years would I have expected anything even close to this. To say that I am overwhelmed would be the understatement of the year.
“Get yourself fresh and comfortable,” Derek says behind me. “There's a bathroom with everything you need next to the bedroom.”
“Thank you,” I say, and he pinches me in the arm.
“Sir,” I correct myself. “Thank you, Sir!”
“Good girl.”
I make my way through the door, behind which I assume is the bedroom.
“Oh, and Ava,” Derek says before I walk through the door. “I want you to wear nothing but the black silk robe when you get out. Absolutely nothing underneath. Understand?”
“Black silk robe?” I ask.
“You'll see,” he says, nodding toward the door.
The bedroom is just as grandiose as the living area, with a giant bed in the middle, dark red sheets topped with golden pillows.
I should not be surprised to find the bathroom decorated with white marble entirely, but somehow, I still find myself gasping like an idiot. A big shower cabin next to a ridiculously big bathtub make up most of the room that is bigger than my own bedroom.
The black silk robe Derek was referring to is hanging next to the door, presented like an evening dress. I smile as I stroke my hand along the costly fabric.
I took a shower at the gym, but decide to pamper myself with the products that are laid out for me here, if only to make sure that I feel as comfortable as possible with my body when I present myself in front of him.
I stand in front of the large mirror above the sink and give my naked and floral-scented body one last check before I slip into the black robe. The material feels so soft and comfortable, I wish I had one of these at home. It is not very long and barely covers my naked behind, but I am sure that is how it was intended by him.
I am glad he didn't ask me to come out completely naked and exposed from the beginning. Even stepping in front of him like this, with only the thin robe covering my nakedness, is a little awkward, especially since he is still fully dressed when I return.
He is standing next to the bar table, still in his perfectly well-fitting suit, holding up two glasses of champagne as he turns around to face me.
“You look wonderful,” he compliments me, handing me one of the glasses.
“Thank you, Sir.”
We clink glasses and I am afraid that my sip of the relaxing liquid is a lot bigger than his.
Derek does not show any sign that he notices, but puts his glass down as soon as he has tasted the champagne.
“Now,” he says. “I know you need some time to get comfortable, so I won't ask of you what I really want, instead we will start slowly.”
I look up at him, tilting my head to the side as I try to process his words.
“Take another sip if you need to,” he says.
I gulp, embarrassed about the fact that he notices my insecurity. But I do need that second sip, so I take it, almost finishing the glass before I put it down on the table.
He steps forward, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in close for a kiss. This kiss is different than the one in the elevator, more careful, soft and loving. He licks along my lower lip, planting innocent kisses around the corner of my mouth before his lips meet mine and his tongue explores my mouth as if it were the first time.
In fact, I am the one who starts begging for more. I dig my hands into his side, feeling his strong muscles even through the thick fabric of his suit, and get up on my toes, kissing him back, a lot more greedy than he has shown himself to be.
He doesn't let that imbalance happen for long, though. His hands wander, one of them upward, grabbing a fistful of my hair by which he tilts my head back, exposing my neck, wh
ile the other wanders lower. He grabs my ass with a strong grip through the thin fabric of the silk rope, lifting my ass cheek as he squeezes it passionately.
A little moan escapes my lips, ending our seductive kiss abruptly.
“Just as impatient as I am, aren't you?” he whispers.
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“Let me see,” he adds, leaning down to kiss me again. He is holing me in place with one hand by pushing against the back of my head, while the other moves to my front and between us.
He doesn't hesitate to move his hand below the robe, quickly moving any fabric aside and aiming for my center. I start to tense up, but he tightens his grip around me, silently telling me to remain as I am, while he move his fingers between my legs, spreading my lips and stroking along the inside.
“Soaking wet,” he assesses. “What a good little slut.”
I blush, not sure whether the heat in my cheeks is caused by embarrassment or arousal.
“I need to get a taste,” he adds.
Before I dare to ask what he means by that, he remove his hands from me and takes a step back, leading me to the sofa behind us.
“Sit,” he orders. “Lean back and spread your legs for me.”
I hesitate.
“Now!” he adds, looking at me impatiently, hunger burning in his eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” I utter and do as I am told.
I sit down on the couch and slowly lift my knees up, spreading my legs as far as possible. In a ridiculous attempt to cover myself, I make a move to adjust the robe that has slid upward as I was sitting down, but Derek slaps my hands away.
“No,” he warns. “This is mine now, don't try to hide it.”
I gulp. My hands are shaking when I put them down on the sofa, supporting myself as I try to gather the confidence that would usually help me through the day, through any uncomfortable situation, really.
“I promised you a reward after all, didn’t I?” he whispers.
Derek goes down on his knees in front of me and bends forward, spreading my lips to expose my trembling center before dives between my legs and slowly licks across the inside of my labia.
I close my eyes and moan, trying to forget about the awkward position I am in or all the worries in regard to my worth for him.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”
He joins my moaning as he continues to tease my throbbing center with his skilled tongue, leaving out the most sensitive spot, but coming terribly close every so often. This teasing is driving me insane and I find myself sliding lower, pushing my center closer to his face as if to invite him in.
“More,” I breathe, almost begging.
He chuckles and does the exact opposite. He stops.
“What a greedy little slut,” he says, looking up at me with a naughty smile. “Do you know how many times I've had to correct and remind you tonight? Do you really think that you're in a position to ask favors right now?”
I swallow hard as I look down at him, his piercing blue eyes fixating mine while his hands are still on my thighs.
“No,” I whisper helplessly. “No, Sir.”
He nods. “That's right. I will taste you as long as I wish to and in any way that pleases me.”
He leans down again and I gasp in surprise when his lips meet my center. His tongue is circling my most sensitive spot with aggressive force, causing me to moan and squirm in pleasure. It feels so intense, so good!
My eyes open wide in wonder when he starts sucking on my clit. The sensation is so strong and powerful that I fear it might make me come. I want to warn him to stop, but find myself unable to speak as I am overrun with sheer pleasure.
A sigh of disappointment escapes my mouth when he stops again and moves away from my center. He gets up on his feet and looks down on me, assessing me as I sit beneath him, breathing heavily and dizzy with lust.
“Stand up,” he orders.
Chapter 8
Ava
I follow his command and jump up to my feet as quickly as possible, greeted with a terrible head rush that almost forces me back down.
“I want to see you,” he announces. “Really see you. Show me that beautiful body of yours. Take off the robe.”
I blush when I look up at him, looking for reaffirmation.
Beautiful body? What the hell is he talking about?
He smiles, noticing my self-doubt.
“Do what I tell you,” he whispers. “And trust my words.”
I nod silently and look down to open the robe. My head stays low as it slowly falls down to the floor. I withstand the urge to cover myself with my hands because I know he wouldn't like that.
My eyes remain fixed to my toes. He said he wanted to look at me, but that doesn't mean I have to look at him while he does so. I don't want to see his face as he scans this imperfect body that he referred to as beautiful before he saw it.
I cannot see him, but I hear him humming in approval.
“Delicious,” he whispers. “Look at me, Ava.”
I obey and slowly lift my head, my eyes finding his as soon as I do.
He doesn't smile but casts me a serious face, his eyes narrow and his eyebrows slightly furled.
I knew it. I disappointed him. This is not the kind of body he expected, even after getting so close to me.
“That's better,” he says. “When you present yourself to me, I want your eyes on me just as much as mine are on you, do you understand?”
I nod, slightly confused. “Yes, Sir.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed about,” he says. “And I told you to trust my words. When I tell you that you're beautiful, you better fucking believe it.”
I smile. “Yes, Sir.”
He reciprocates my smile.
“Good girl,” he says. “Now show me again what you did at the restaurant. Show me how beautiful you are on your knees in front of me.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, slowly going down onto my knees. I place my hands on my knees and look up at him expectantly. This position makes me strangely aware of the wetness between my legs.
“What a delightful sight,” he says. “A beautiful woman down on her knees, waiting to serve me, to please me, to become mine.”
My lips part slightly and my breathing accelerates. I cannot explain why his words have such an impact on me, but I know they do. They are enticing and feel so damn right.
“You still owe me something,” he says. “But lucky for you, I am a giver.”
I raise my eyebrows in question as he opens the button of his jacket and takes it off, presenting a perfectly fitting white shirt underneath. He starts to undo his tie, his eyes never leaving mine as I watch him undress. Once the knot of the tie is loosened enough for him to remove it, he steps forward and leans down to put it around my neck.
“Cute,” he assesses as he fastens the knot. He steps back and continues to look down on me while unbuttoning his white shirt.
I gulp when he takes it off and his well sculptured chest comes into view. This is e first time I've been intimate with a man who has an actual six-pack. His tanned and hairless skin spans over a perfectly arranged pattern of muscles.
I am having trouble keeping up eye contact with him. Instead, my eyes travel along his chest, down to the lines along his pelvis until further examination is inhibited by his suit pants and a black leather belt.
“Like what you're seeing?” he asks, throwing me a confident smile.
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“I am happy to hear that,” he says, approaching me.
I tilt my head back to look up at him as he comes to halt directly in front of me, his crotch only a few inches away from my face.
“Open my belt,” he orders. “Without using your hands.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I rise up on my knees so that I am able to reach the buckle of his belt with my teeth. The belt is rather thin, so it is not hard to lift it up with my teeth and pull it through the belt loop and loosen the clasps by pul
ling on it a little more. It does get a little trickier when I try to open the buckle. I am drooling all over his costly clothing and almost get my lower lip stuck in the buckle, but it just won't move.
“This is pathetic,” he comments, looking down on me while I struggle with his belt buckle.
I blush, angry and embarrassed at this task and my failure to complete it satisfactorily.
Soon, he has enough of my attempts and pulls my head back by the hair.
“You may use your hands,” he says. “Open it, remove the belt and hold it up with both your hands.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, disappointed at myself. “I'm sorry.”
“You will be,” he says simply.
I do as I am told and remove the belt, which is done within a moment now that I am allowed to use my hands. I wipe off my own drool at the part around the buckle and fold the heavy leather in half, holding the belt up to him with both my hands.
My head is low, my eyes fixated on my strong thighs, illustrating the shame I feel about not being able to complete the task I was given.
“Good girl,” he praises nonetheless. “Now, turn around, rest your arms on the sofa and present that perfect ass to me.”
He takes the belt out of my hands.
I shiver as I follow his orders and begin to realize what is going to happen next. My arms rest on the seating surface of the sofa and I slightly part my knees, knowing that it will show my body in a more beautiful shape.
“Ass up!” he snaps.
I hollow my back and stick my ass up as high as possible, exposing my throbbing center in the process.
“Do you know what is going to happen next?” he wants to know, gently stroking the belt along my spine.
I nod with my head low. “Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me.”
“You are going to spank me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I didn't please you,” I answer.
“No,” he objects. “You do please me. You wouldn't be here if you didn't, Ava.”
I gulp. My entire body is vibrating with anticipation. I have never been spanked before, not like this at least. Not with a belt, and not with this kind of preparation involved.
