“Be careful,” he warned with a twinkle in his eye. “You might be awakening a sleeping tiger.”
“Just tell me,” she pleaded. “Tell me what you want.”
“Honestly?”
“Of course...I’m a woman and you never lie to women.”
“Good memory,” he nodded. “That’s liable to get me in trouble, isn’t it?”
“Already has...”
He raised a brow, the look of a predatory cat on his face. “In that case, Out of Place Lee, I want you, in that alley across the street, my cock buried deep inside you...fucking you like an animal...”
“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” she rasped. “Come on,” she grabbed his hand. “Your wish is my command.”
The alley was grimy and dirty...and sex charged. A rat scampered from under a cardboard box, damp from an afternoon shower. Soggy bricks lined both sides of the narrow expanse, fresh refuse, vegetable matter of some kind was piled high in a dumpster.
“How do you want me?” she asked, practically panting.
“Against the wall,” he said, his voice taking on the overtones of a good dominant. “Palms against the brick, over your head.”
“Yes...” she sighed, feeling the natural rhythm between them, the rhythm of her own submission, inevitable and right and proper.
“Kyle?”
“Smack my bottom a little first?” she asked, almost shyly.
Instinctively, she knew it was the right thing to say. They both wanted it.
“You have the ass for it,” he said admiringly, lifting her skirt.
“Do you think so?”
“Think so?” He laughed, emitting a low rumbling sound. “Lee, it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
She moaned as he rubbed her bottom through her silk panties. The brick was cool and rough and moist under her palm. She wanted to be naked, rubbing her entire body against the surface of it. “Mmm, Kyle, that feels good,” she said dreamily.
“I want you to have a safe word,” he said. “If anything gets to be too much between us. The word is bourbon. Got it?”
“Got it,” she affirmed. A chill went down her spine. Safe words were an official BDSM concept. No one had ever used one with her before. All sorts of things went through her head. Was this Kyle a lifestyle man? Was there some kind of cosmic significance in their meeting? Lord knows she’d met enough jerks in her life—Virgil aside.
“I’m going to play with you,” he said now. “Sink into character. Are you all right with that?”
“I think so, yes.” She was curious as hell...and twice as hot.
Where would a buttoned-down business man who played pool go...in character...in a dark alley?
“I just grabbed you, Lee...” He whispered it right into her ear, like stage directions. “I took you down this alley. I’m going to do whatever I want to you...”
She nodded. Her toes curled in anticipation. “Please,” she said, slipping into her role as damsel-in-distress. “Don’t hurt me.”
“That all depends, sweetheart.” He clenched her ass cheek. “On whether you cooperate or not.”
“I—I won’t fight you,” she gasped.
Liandra’s panties ripped in his hand. “You have this coming, bitch. You shouldn’t tease men in bars like that.”
“I didn’t mean it,” she played her part. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, slut.” He shredded the material away, baring her ass. He removed her skirt, setting it down on a nearby crate.
“Legs spread!” he commanded.
She yelped as he smacked her bottom, a sharp, decisive blow.
“Wider!”
Liandra suffered another smack. “Ow, please that hurts.”
He hit her a third time, harder than ever. “Call me sir.”
“Yes, Sir...”
“You’re wet.” He worked a finger inside her available cunt.
“Y—yes, Sir,” she squirmed, trying to sound unhappy about it.
“You know what happens to wet girls?”
“No, Sir.”
“They get hard meat. You ready for hard meat?”
“I’ll cooperate, Sir, I won’t make trouble,” she promised.
He yanked her hair. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you were ready for hard meat.”
“Y—yes, Sir, I’m ready.”
“I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you, bitch,” he pledged.
He unzipped his pants.
“Sir...I’m a virgin...”
“You were a virgin, you mean.” He took hold of her hips and rammed his dick home.
She cried out softly, writhing as a virgin would. “Oh, Sir...it...feels so...”
He slammed himself against her, pelvis to pelvis. “Take it, bitch, take it deep like a fucking slut.”
Liandra pushed her ass against him. “Yes...yes, Sir,” she groaned.
Kyle roared like a man possessed, again and again withdrawing nearly to the tip and re-impaling her, filling and stuffing and conquering. She spasmed quite automatically, like he was taking her body over, tripping its triggers with some kind of magical access points.
“M—mmmm—” she hesitated. The word nearly came from her mouth: Master.
In one fell swoop, in one fuck, he was taking her down—like the best of Rave and the best of Virgil...and something else besides...not quite like her dreams but just as good.
The Kyle Factor...
She came screaming, on the razor’s edge, trying not to be too loud out in the open, but wanting the world to know at the same time what was being done to her.
She felt proud that her little body could do this—could be such a vessel of pleasure.
Kyle’s semen erupted into her, a pure stream, a pure, white hot rush, filling and emptying her at once.
He sank his teeth into her neck. She turned her head, giving...
She knew what she had to do when it was over and there was no stopping her.
Liandra knelt in the filthy alley, licking his cock clean, sweet and delicious underneath the veneer of her own come. She dried it with her own hair and put it lovingly back in his pants.
When she was done she looked up at him, moist eyed, purest anticipation and gratitude.
“We have to talk,” he said, expressionless.
Liandra was sure she’d done something wrong. “I’ve never played a game quite like that,” she began to apologize. “I know I took it in the wrong direction totally and...”
“Hush,” he said, his voice soothing and gentle. “That isn’t it at all.”
Her heart was throbbing. For some reason she was desperate for the man’s approval. He must have read her emotions.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Lee, you were wonderful, ok?”
She nearly died from the touch of his fingers on her cheek. She wanted to live for this man, to exist for his approval.
But he was a stranger, wasn’t he?
“Okay,” said Lee, smiling through tears. “Oh, lord, what a mess I am.”
“Well, I wouldn’t take you to a five star restaurant at the moment,” he teased. “How about coming over to my apartment. You can take a shower—solo, I promise.”
“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she said throatily.
Listen to her, being so forward...
And what about Rave? He’d be checking up on her.
Liandra had a sinking feeling. She’d just used this man, to fulfill another’s dark fantasies.
“We’ll negotiate,” he said, concerning the shower.
The light was gone from her face. “Kyle, I have not been as honest with you...”
“I know that,” he said.
She blinked, astonished. “Y—you do?”
“I told you, I can see through people. In your case I could tell whatever was hiding it was a cover up for someone else. Your own heart is pure.”
“I don’t know if I should fall down and worship you,” she said.
“Or be paranoid, as hell.”
“Maybe a little of both.” He offered a wink, melting any possible resistance she could have offered.
“Come on,” he took her arm. “My car is just down the street.”
“Awfully convenient,” she said, taking her own turn to tease.
“Yep,” he played along. “I fuck ‘em in the alley and kidnap them afterwards.”
She put on her skirt, removing the scraps of underwear first. They’d make a nice souvenir for some alley way denizen of the future. “Well, you picked a poor candidate. There is no one to pay fifty cents to set me free let alone a million dollars.”
“I wouldn’t want a million for you, you’re worth much more.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said. “Then again, you’ve already been everywhere in my case.”
“Not yet,” he took her arm. “But give me time.”
“Be careful,” she said. “I just might take you up on that offer.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two hours later, Liandra was sitting in Kyle’s living room, legs tucked up under her on the couch. She was freshly cleaned and wearing one of Kyle’s t-shirts, dark blue. It fit like a dress on her, though she was conspicuously naked underneath. Her clothes were in the washer—thank goodness for polyester blends.
Kyle was sitting next to her wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. The proximity of his bare chest was making it damned hard to concentrate on the photo album he was showing her.
He and his wife Vanessa, a couple of years before she got sick. She was tall and beautiful, perfectly dark skinned with long angel black, curly hair. Her eyes were almond shaped. She’d been a model briefly and then a travel consultant. The cancer had come on at age twenty eight. A lump in her breast; fairly routine nowadays, except in her case it spread. The chemo and radiation made her miserable but did little to hold back the onslaught.
It’s just some people’s time, that’s what the preachers and doctors said, which was bullshit, even Liandra knew that. The thing was, Kyle never cried at the funeral, not like he was supposed to. Everyone said he should—but what the hell did they know.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know you, then,” Liandra said. “I would have tried to make you feel better.”
“I appreciate the thought, angel,” he gave another of his devastating winks. “But I don’t think the guests would have appreciated me fucking another woman at the funeral.”
They went into hysterics.
“I can’t even believe I said that,” he exclaimed.
“You need to say whatever’s on your mind,” she encouraged.
He gazed at her deeply.
“What is it?”
“I’m just thinking I’m glad I didn’t know you then. I wouldn’t have been ready for you...”
Liandra sucked in her lower lip. Kyle eased her back on the couch, setting the photo album on the floor. Her legs parted for him, he entered her hard and throbbing as before.
As passionate and furious as he was before, this time he was gentle, intense. He moved in and out of her like he’d been there a thousand times before, like he knew her pussy better than any man, better than she did herself. “Why aren’t you taken?” he asked her, mid stroke.
“I am,” she croaked. “In a way...”
“No,” he said. “You’re not.”
She looked over his shoulder. They were back around to Rave again...the part where she was going to need to confess.
“What is it, Lee?”
“I’m not what you think I am.”
“And what is it I think you are?” he mused.
“I don’t know.” She wrinkled her nose. “Pure, I guess.”
He chuckled. “You’re a lot of things, pure isn’t one of them.”
“Screw you,” she said, feeling a dose of feminine pride.
Pride...wow. That was something novel.
He grasped her fingers, pinning her arms above her head.
Liandra’s pulse blood raced; Kyle had put her in bondage.
“I am screwing you, you lovely, sexy little slut.”
She gushed, being called a slut.
“Lee, look at me.”
She made eye contact, commanded.
“You’ve played at BDSM before, haven’t you?”
“A little...”
“I’d say a lot.”
“All right,” she conceded. “It’s the only way I can come. Sex isn’t sex without a man over me, the nastier the better. And I’m not real smart about it. I like them to treat me like shit; I like to crawl, in the bedroom and out of it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with crawling,” he floored her. “Women look best on their knees.”
He read her open mouthed hunger and surprise. “Vanessa wasn’t just my wife, Lee, she was my submissive.”
Liandra tried to picture the beautiful, lithe black woman on her knees, crawling for her Master, for Kyle.
“She was generally naked at home, leather restraints aside,” he explained. “She called me Master, we had plenty of rituals. When I came in any room she was in, she’d stop what she was doing as quickly as possible and kneel. She wasn’t allowed on the furniture and when I ate, her place was at my feet. She ate before me or after me. If I felt especially devious I would make her feed and drink from pet bowls. I didn’t spare her discipline, either. It was the crop or cane for her at least once a week and I never let a day go by without some kind of reminder spanking...”
“Reminder spanking?” Liandra whispered the words, wanting to understand every nuance.
“Yes, that’s right, a spanking for no particular reason except to let the female know who is in charge, to let her feel her man’s power hot and hard on her ass. It keeps a woman focused, needy, obedient. Don’t you think so, Lee?”
Liandra wasn’t capable of thinking a damn thing.
“Oh, god,” she groaned. “Kyle...I need...”
“What do you need?” he pressed her. “Tell me.”
“Pain,” she blurted it out. “I need...pain.”
He reared up, slammed his cock down and took hold of her nipple in his mouth. She screamed. Not even Rave had pushed her this hard. “Fuck...fuck...fuck,” she cried.
“You have a safety word,” he refreshed her memory.
Liandra was torn asunder. “I—I don’t want it to stop...”
“Then suffer, little girl.”
He clamped hold of the other nipple, twisting it in his teeth. Liandra sobbed in response, even as her pussy began to convulse.
She was going to climax, humiliated, under torture.
“Did I say you could have an orgasm?” His voice was cold and harsh, she lost herself in the icy depth of his eyes.
“I couldn’t help myself...”
“Maybe a nice little twat caning will improve your self discipline.”
“Yes...”
“Yes what?”
What indeed? Sir...Master?
“Yes, Sir...” she offered tentatively.
He lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted her own blood.
“How long can you stay with me?”
“Wh—what?” He’d released her lips throbbing, branded, confused.
“Can I have you for the weekend?”
Liandra stammered, driven to near stupor in the face of so much raw, unbridled male power. Rave was a child in comparison to this, and Virgil...Virgil was too nice, too distant somehow. “I—I don’t know what to say...”
“It’s a yes or no question, Lee.”
Rave...what about Rave?
“S—someone is waiting for me.”
Maybe, maybe not. Weeks could go by with her luck.
“What is it you want,” he said, paring everything down to a single, simple reality. “Do you want to give yourself to me this weekend...or him?”
“You.” It was a no brainer. “I want you.”
But what about all the details? Rave had his claim already. Kyle had no idea how black her heart was. She wasn’t
any good, she really was a slut, in the worst way, no faith.
“Good. You’ll stay with me until Sunday night.”
“But you don’t understand,” she blurted. “I’m...his. I—I fucked you under orders. He made me find a man, told me to give myself to the first man...”
He took her chin between thumb and forefinger. “Listen to me, Lee, listen carefully. What happened between us was between us. You gave yourself to me, I took you. It doesn’t go any further than that. Do you believe me?”
“I want to...”
“It takes time, Lee, I know...”
How could he know, though? They’d only just met?
“Sir, come inside me,” she begged. “Use your slut.”
“Not like this.” Kyle withdrew, leaving her empty, tormented.
She whimpered, helpless.
“Hold them together.” He took her hands. Straddling her, he had her cradle her own breasts. He was going to fuck them!
“Oh, Sir, yes, please!”
He slid his glistening, hot dick up her belly, pushing it into the pocket of her pillowed breasts. His face was a study in male supremacy; a dominant using his sub exactly as he wanted, his merest whim her law and bible.
He was going to come on her...
He was going to use her tits...
She clamped tighter, giving him maximum pleasure. He pushed forward then pulled back, his buttocks tight and sweet and muscular on her belly.
“That’s it, girl,” he encouraged, working up his friction. “So fucking good.”
“Yes...Sir, yes, fuck my tits, oh, god, come all over them...”
His body tensed, muscles rippling, she could kiss him all over, lick the salt from his skin. His come burst out of the tip of his gorgeous shaft, spraying her chin and chest. She reveled in the heat of it, the savage, blatant hedonism.
He came and came, squeezing every drop; she wanted it to be his best ever. She wanted him to never want another after her.
But was she ready to pledge herself only to him?
Kyle continued to straddle her, giving Liandra the order to scoop the come from her body and lick it from her fingers. She took it down as a gift, recovering every drop.
They lay down side by side on the sofa after that, falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Liandra awoke first. Kyle had an arm and leg over her body, pinning her. His strong chest was squashing her breast. Her nipple burned against his skin. She was instantly aroused. She shifted her thighs, a tiny moan escaped her throat. She was trapped...captured, horny.
Yes, Master! Page 9
