by Zoey Marcel
“Yes, Sir.”
He smirked at this. “Explain yourself. Even if you were sheltered, your little friends in high school should have talked about it.”
“I was home-schooled for my high school years.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Of course you were. Daddy probably fought off all the boys who happened to give you a second glance, didn't he?”
“Yes, Sir, he was overprotective of me. He told me some things, but my tutor didn’t really get into any of that. It was more the academic stuff.”
“Where are you from?”
“Kentucky ... Sir.”
Hugh blinked at this. “Small world.”
“You used to live there?”
“Yes, it was a long time ago. What are you doing out here?”
“I came to L.A. to get famous.”
He smirked. “How is that working for you?”
She frowned. “Not great so far.”
“How long have you been out here?”
“Almost four years.”
“Been on any dates?”
“A few.”
“Then why didn't you do the dirty deed with any of them?”
God, she felt so naked. Why wouldn't he let her dress? When she peeked up at him and found his eyes scanning her head to toe, she got her answer. “I wanted to save myself for them ... I mean him.”
“Your Kentucky cowboy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His expression became softer, sympathetic almost. “If he wants you to be someone you're not, why change yourself and hold out on having fun for someone who isn't worthy of you? Only an idiot would be so stupid. Are you an idiot, Kayla?”
“No, Sir. He doesn't know I'm doing this. He turned me down because I was only eighteen at the time, but I know it's more than that. He and his brothers are into the whole BDSM thing.”
Hugh looked amused as he stared into her now raised eyes. “What do his brothers have to do with anything?”
Crappers! She'd said too much. Warmth swept over her face and chest. “Nothing. I just meant he does it, too. I guess that detail about his brothers wasn't important.”
“It sounds to me like you've got a little thing for all of them.”
Panic sliced through her. “Can't a girl be attracted to more than one man without being viewed as a skank?”
“Watch yourself.” He kept his piercing gaze pinned to hers. “No need to get touchy. It was just an observation. I have a way with people.”
She smiled. “You told me you hate people.”
He looked amused. “I didn't say I liked them. I'm just good at reading them. You can get dressed now.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Now who's the idiot? A body like that should never be covered up.”
“Thank you.” She felt beautiful beneath his lurid gaze, though the keen sense of vulnerability lingered with her.
“I recant. Stay naked.”
Her cheeks burned, and she toyed with the idea of defying him to escape humiliation. Her clothes were right there. What was he going to do—chase her with his cane?
“Don't even think about it,” he warned, giving her a playful glare. “You can make us dinner while I figure out where to start with you and draw up the paperwork.”
She blinked a few times, squeezing her thighs together to hide her dampness. “You want me to cook dinner for you ... without any clothes on?”
“Did I stutter?”
His lack of people skills was laughable, but she'd heard he was a skilled Dom who treated his subs well and somehow managed to connect with many of them on a deeper level he had no interest in reaching with the outside world.
She'd seen in his scrapbook that he'd once been a prominent Dom at a BDSM club. She would love to ask him about it. Maybe later on down the road.
“No, Sir. I'll get to it.” She felt like warm pudding in his hands when he approached and touched her forearm to stop her.
“Remember you have a safe word. Use it if you need to,” he said. “We’ll take this slow. I don’t want to scare you.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Her pulse raced. “Will you ... are you going to show me how to please a man?”
His eyes darkened with lust. “Of course. You didn't really think I was going to play Good Samaritan and not get anything out of this, did you?”
She blushed and turned, but he angled her chin so her focus was on him.
“I won't penetrate you. You can save that for Colonel Sanders.”
Kayla giggled. “Thanks. How long will you teach me for?”
“I haven't decided yet. We'll see.”
“If you need to ... if at some point you want to stick certain things in certain places, I don't mind.”
He grinned and reached out to toy with her nipple, jaw tightening with hard lust over the way her lips parted. “As adorable as your Little House on the Prairie coyness is, I want you to put on your big girl panties and talk like an adult. Tell me what you meant to say, but say it like a woman, not a shy little girl.”
Her cheeks were inflamed, but she did her best to look at him while he cradled her jaw and tweaked her nipple. “If you want to penetrate me, you can.”
He rolled his eyes, looking annoyed. “I'm glad I have your permission to do what I want, sub, but where am I penetrating you? Your nose?”
She smiled bashfully and blushed when he touched the tip of her nose with his finger. The gesture was strangely sweet even though he was being sarcastic. “My vagina.”
“Hmm. Pussy sounds dirtier. Use that word.”
“Okay.”
Hugh stared at her expectantly.
“Pussy.” Lord, she wanted to get dressed and rinse her face in cold water.
He grinned and pointed to his left ear. “You'll have to forgive me, I'm practically deaf. It's an age thing. What's that you say?”
Kayla glowered at him, unable to keep from smiling through her embarrassment. She knew darned well he could hear just fine. The smartass. “Pussy.”
His gloating smile was oddly charming. “That's better. Now, what do you want me to stick up your pussy? A cucumber? Toys?”
She licked her lips at the thought of him using toys on her. “If you like, Sir.”
He gave her a knowing, dirty look. “But what did you mean when you said I could penetrate you? Toys are a given. With this?”
She lost her breath as her hand trembled against the hard ridge of his length when he guided her hand to his crotch. The searing heat of the bulge burned through his Levi's. “Yes, Sir.”
His eyes closed when she gave it a light squeeze. Seeing him turned on sent a hot rush of energy through her.
“I thought you wanted to save yourself for Buffalo Bill.”
She smiled. “I did, but maybe that was my problem. I'm too innocent. If I knew how to please them, then they'd want me.”
“You said 'them' again.”
Her heart thumped frantically in her chest. “I meant him.”
Hugh appeared skeptical as he moved her hand from his groin. “I'll teach you how to be a good sub, but you should lose your virginity to someone who means something to you. Now turn around and place your hands on the wall so I can spank you.”
“Okay.” She turned, feeling shy again and put her hands on the wall. “Why?”
He answered her with the flat of his palm making its point on her soft ass. The hard smack dragged a startled yelp from her.
“That's for lying to me about your sexual experience. You're not going to do it again, are you, cinnamon?”
“Cinnamon?” She grinned. “Because of my hair? Aw! That's cute. Ow!”
The spanking certainly wasn't cute, and it made her butt jiggle. Damn all this attention to her posterior. She wasn't used to it. Her breasts were her assets. Why did he focus on her flaws, acting like they were worth looking at?
“No, Sir. I'll be good.”
“Stop clenching. I want this to hurt.”
“Yes, Sir.”
And boy, it did
.
“Five more. Count them out.”
Kayla flinched, feeling her cheeks heat. “One.”
She heard the loud slap and jolted at the force of his hand.
“Two.”
Her butt cheeks stung and grew warm beneath the spankings. Oh lord, her buttocks would probably be a glowing pink when he was done. How embarrassing to have blushing ass cheeks like a naughty little girl.
“Three.”
Slap.
“Four.”
Smack.
“Five.”
She winced at the last one, feeling the lingering sting spread over her sensitized skin. Her inflamed buns prickled with the strangest sensations of pain and pleasure when his fingertips trailed over them.
“Does your ass feel hot and sore?” His seductive timbre made her weak.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you want me to stretch your tight asshole with an anal plug before you go back to Kentucky, so it's nice and ready for your kinky hillbilly?”
“He's not a hillbilly, but if you think you should stretch me then go ahead.”
“You need to learn to share your feelings in a more submissive way,” Hugh told her. “Saying 'go ahead' sounds like you're giving me permission to breach this ass with a toy. But I don't need your permission to play with my ass, do I?”
She swallowed, clenching her anus in apprehension. “No, Sir. Do you really think he'll want to do ... that?”
“What?”
She grimaced, knowing he wanted her to talk as brazenly about sex as he did. “Do you think he'll want to ... you know?”
“I'm not a mind reader, Kayla, and I told you to talk like an adult. This isn't happy horse country. You're in L.A. now.”
The slur about her home state made her eyes roll, but fortunately he didn't see it. “Do you think he'll want to have anal sex with me?”
“You know him better than I do. Not every man is into that, but a lot of them are.”
She felt her juices trickle down the insides of her thighs when he twirled one finger in her pubic curls and slowly penetrated her with another digit.
“Do you know what an orgasm is?”
Kayla rolled her eyes. She wasn't completely ignorant. “Yes, Sir.”
“Ever had one?”
“No. I was a little sheltered before I came here.”
He snorted. “More than a little. Want one?”
Her heart skipped in her chest, and her pussy dampened. “Please.”
He pulled his finger out of her vagina and stepped back. “Make dinner first and then I’ll give you one.”
God, what a tease. She nodded.
“What's my title?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Does this backwoods boy want a sub or a slave?” Hugh asked.
Her mind skipped back into the past, but she honestly didn't know. The Langley brothers were dominant in bed from what she'd heard and they were into BDSM, but how heavily they delved into it remained in the dark.
“I don't know.”
“Forget what he wants. What do you want?” Hugh inquired thoughtfully. “Do you want to play kinky in the bedroom and maintain your independence outside of it, or do you want to be controlled at all times while having your boundaries respected?”
She wanted to be whatever Travis and the other two Langleys wanted her to be. But what was that exactly? What if they all needed different things? What then?
“I'm not sure. You can decide for me.”
Hugh got a big smile on his face. “I think I have my answer. We'll take things slow and see what you are and what you like. When you go back to Kentucky, you’ll be nice and green broke for your cowboy.”
She smirked. “Green broke?”
“Was that tacky of me?” His sassy tone and wry smile said he didn’t care, and something about that unapologetic self-assurance was irresistible to her.
Chapter One: Open Wounds
Two years later
Los Angeles, California
Kayla returned from the store, greeted by the seasonal fragrance of stewing pumpkin when she got home.
“Oh good, you’re back.” Hugh smiled when he saw her and took her bags. “Here. Get frisky with that pumpkin.”
Her eyes widened when she looked over at the table. She laughed when she saw the pumpkin with a hole cut in the top and an inserted dildo rising from it, ready to impale her once she straddled it. “Seriously, you want me to get myself off on a pumpkin?”
He smiled. “I'm making puree from the insides of another pumpkin. While it cooks I need to be entertained. So get to it, slave. After that, when this is ready, you can make us a homemade pumpkin pie.”
She made a face as she shed her suede boots, gray wool skirt, and burgundy turtleneck. She missed the way the leaves changed colors back home during the fall, but at least today was actually abnormally cold for Southern California. Fall fashions were always a blast to shop for and wear, especially all those boots and hoodies.
“Do we have a pre-made pie crust I can use?” She peeled her nylons, bra, and panties off and then climbed onto the table.
Hugh stirred the stewing pumpkin innards. “No. I outlawed those, remember?”
Kayla frowned, becoming distracted and utterly fascinated by the toy he'd made her. It looked like he had cut some kind of lid on the side of the pumpkin with a hole in it. He'd wedged the dildo through the hole in the lid, and the base of the toy probably kept it from popping out of the pumpkin. Would the tempting phallus wiggle while she played with it?
She patted the solid pumpkin. It hadn't been scooped clean. He'd probably carved a hole or concavity in the pumpkin directly beneath the lid closed over it to hold the dildo still while she fucked herself on it. Brilliant, and pure, wicked fun.
She awkwardly positioned herself over the orange squash. “But I suck at making pie crusts. They always fall apart and taste like bland crap when I'm done. It's one of the few things I can't bake.”
“That’s why you're going to learn. I found a no-fail recipe from off the internet. See, it even says 'no-fail pie crust recipe’.” He waved a piece of paper at her, but with the way it wiggled and where he stood, she had no chance of reading the words. “The only way you would fail with a no-fail pie crust recipe is if you're an idiot. Are you an idiot, slave?”
Kayla poised the tip of the dildo at her pussy. Maybe she should make herself wet first.
“There's lubricant on the table,” he informed her without looking up from the saucepan.
She smiled and used the lube to prime her folds. Of course her Master had thought of everything. He always did, with one exception. He still refused to take her virginity. In the beginning she'd understood and somewhat agreed that she should hold out, but over time she'd depressed herself with the thought that the Langleys were probably married by now.
Besides, Hugh Randall was her Master. If anyone deserved her virginity it was him.
“I'm still waiting to find out whether or not you're an idiot,” he reminded her facetiously.
“No, Master. I'm not an idiot.”
She grinned and pushed down on the dildo, wincing at the way it stretched her. This fake phallus was bigger than the one he normally used on her. Was he preparing her for his cock? God, she hoped so, but she was leaving him to go to her new job next week. The thought depressed her whenever it crossed her mind, but they both knew this had only been temporary. He'd trained her to be submissive, and now he was letting her go.
He'd seemed pretty unhappy about her leaving as well, but he hadn't blubbered his eyes out over it the way she had while alone in the shower.
“Are you having dirty sexual relations with the pumpkin yet?” he asked in a saucy tone.
“Master, you're a freak ... with all due respect.”
Her smile vanished, and a feeble cry slipped from her as she gradually sank down on the thick dildo. It stretched her painfully, causing an unpleasant burning sensation, but she wasn't giving up. Her Master had been generous
enough to make her a homemade toy, and she was going to play with it even if it killed her. Judging by the liberal girth of the silicone bastard, she guessed she probably would die from it.
Master Hugh turned his attention to her naked self sinking steadily down on the dildo. “Beautiful. Play with my clit.”
Kayla whimpered when she felt the sensational zing that resulted from the feather-light touch of her finger on her eager nubbin. “Yes, Master.”
He watched her in quiet awe for a moment and a hint of sadness before turning his attention back to the pumpkin puree. “I'll let you know when you can come.”
She made a protesting squeak at him, and he grinned like a charismatic ass. She slowed her strokes on her clitoris and rode the dildo at a gentler pace to keep from coming too soon. Lord, she was ready now, but of course he wasn't. Freakin' twit.
He appeared to wrestle with whether or not to speak before he finally came out with it. “Let's play a little game. Pretend you're a sadistic Russian bastard.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
“You escape from jail and no one hears from you again. Where would you go?”
Was he referring to someone he knew? “What country am I escaping prison from?”
“America. Keep fucking yourself.”
She moaned and started maneuvering her hips again. The hard, smooth flesh of the pumpkin was marred only by the lines garnishing its shell. Otherwise it felt delicious against her bare legs. “I guess I would go back to Russia.”
“You would think so, wouldn't you?” He paused for a moment, seeming to ponder something. “Then again, maybe that's too obvious. But wherever you'd go, you wouldn't stay in the same country and hook up with an enemy's ex, would you?”
Kayla stopped rubbing and thrusting. “Are we talking about real life, Master?”
Master's countenance appeared reflective and shadowed with anger. When his focus shifted to her, his expression changed, and the light returned to his eyes. “I told you this was a game, Kayla. Here's another what-if scenario. Suppose decades had passed and you heard a Russian accent just once, and somehow you knew, you just knew it was the same person.”
“Did you see the man in person?”
