A Dirty Little Deal

by Theda Hudson

  "Of course you may. This is for both of us. You will enjoy it more if you get what you want."

  I felt her shiver at that idea. "Could you..."

  I watched her struggle with the words. She had never made intimate requests for specifics that would give her pleasure. I had discovered that early on and set myself to learning her. But it was more fun not to have to guess all the time.

  If we could leap over this one, the rest might come easier. Each one building on the last. Little steps, little crumbs crumbling from a single brick, leading the destruction of the entire wall.

  "Could you do it to the other leg?" The words flew out in a rush and I knew her face would have grown bright red.

  "Of course, Cara Mia." The fur brushed up the other thigh, swirling around, over the hosiery, and across her bare skin, all the way around and up the front of her thigh. "There, do you like that?

  If I hadn't been listening, I would have missed the tiny sigh of pleasure. Then her body relaxed a fraction, her legs not so tense.

  So, I rucked the skirt up, revealing her legs nearly all the way up to the glory at the cusp where they met. A couple had stopped to watch and murmured their approval.

  It was too much for Cara Mia. She stood and turned, glaring at the people. "Yellow," she said softly.

  Chapter 9

  But the people heard her, saw her face, and nodded, then moved on.

  She was doing wonderfully well and I was pleased, but a little peeved that they had interrupted the flow of Cara Mia's progress. It was one of the issues with public play as Master Black called it. But we would never have gotten this far in her bedroom or mine. So I would have to chalk it up to the challenges of breaking down her rules.

  I opened the bottle of water and handed it to her.

  "Drink, Cara Mia."

  She did, kicking and shaking out her feet a little.

  "Do your feet hurt now?"

  "More. I feel like I'm planted."

  "Do you wish to take them off?"

  "Not quite yet. She shifted. "The skirt vents a lot more now," she said, blushing as she handed me the bottle back.

  This was good. She was participating and seemed to like it. I took a bottle for myself and drank. The water cleared my mouth, which had grown dry.

  Dropping it, I flowed in and took her in my arms, kissing her. She kissed me back hard, her tongue pressing hesitantly, then more boldly than she ever had against my mouth.

  I twisted her to face the wall and pulled the dress up to her hips, uncovering her ass, shielding her with my body. She tightened, but kept her head turned so we could keep kissing. I took her up on the offer, working her mouth, teaching her how to give her passion up through her lips, her tongue.

  "You are so brave, Cara Mia." I cupped her ass cheeks and grasped her hips, pulling her to me hard. She wore a thong, much to my surprised pleasure. I had never seen her wear more than low-cut bikinis, never even knew she owned one. My dick was like wood and I humped against her. I could smell her musk, her sweat, and I groaned. "Brave and beautiful."

  I skated the bunny fur over her ass and ran the edge between her apples. She would have leaped away, but I held her tightly, then brushed the paddle over her back and shoulders through cut out in the dress. She tensed, and her hands splayed out over the concrete wall, the bracelet winking as she moved.

  We continued to kiss fervently. When we broke and I saw the man who had asked to use Cara Mia for a bondage subject had stopped to stare at us.

  "The dress on my hips," she said. "It feels," she giggled and her face flushed. "It feels naughty. Like nothing I've ever felt before."

  This didn't surprise me. I had rarely seen her naked. She moved from clothing to nightwear or a robe when she stepped out of the shower. Even our lovemaking had been done under a blanket in the dark. And always in missionary, face to face. Even raising her legs was hard for her, an embarrassing titillation.

  "You are so daring, Cara Mia."

  She laughed, shivering, as she allowed me to stroke her back. The bunny fur seemed to calm her so I rubbed her lightly with it, then nudged her chin around so I could look at her face. Her eyes were round and the whites very bright.

  "Stay here, just like this."

  I knelt behind her, her ass at face level. She tightened, nervous, and I laid a hand on her hip to steady her. She was excited no matter how nervous.

  "I can smell your musk."

  Her ass tightened as if to cut off that exclamation of her state, to give a lie to it."

  I kissed one cheek and gripped her when she would have jerked away. Making a trail with my lips, I began nipping and licking. Goosebumps rose up across that flesh and I slipped the hand that had held her hip between her thighs and climbed upward.

  She jerked, but stayed in place. The thong was sopping and I smiled. It was working. My finger teased the edges of her lips, the mouth of her sex.

  Her body tightened and I knew the moment her rules had won out over the moment.

  She bolted then to the corner crying, "Yellow. Yellow." It came out half growl, half cry as she turned to me. "I cannot do this. I can't," she said.

  "But you did."

  She had no answer, but her face reddened.

  After a moment, she asked, "Now what?"

  I stood up next to her. "I will back off. You didn't cry red, so I will give you space." I smiled at her. "See how much pleasure you give me?" I said, taking her hand and pressing it to my dick.

  She resisted, but touched it tentatively. "So hard," she said, "And all you've done is kissed me, touched me, and cut my dress."

  I took the knife out of my pocket and flicked it open. Her eyes got large and I could see her throat move as she swallowed.

  Chapter 10

  She shivered as she watched me rub my fingers over the slick, soft material at the front of the dress, then pinch a bit, lifting it away. Suddenly I cut a swooping V, following the lines of the frogging to a point below her breasts. When I pulled it away, I saw she wore a black lace bra that matched her thong.

  Her cleavage mounded up and I wanted to lay my head on it and rest. Instead, I buried my face between her breasts and breathed in her fragrance, and licked and kissed them. After a long moment she stroked my hair, then grasped the back of it as I began to nibble the flesh along the cup.

  Her flesh goose pimpled and I pulled the lace aside to reveal the hard nipple surrounded by the crinkled aureole. I suckled it, cupping her ass, letting my fingers delve between the cheeks.

  She tightened, her sense of propriety embarrassed at such liberties, but I gave her no way out and she submitted, never crying "Yellow". Her hand tightened in my hair painfully, yet I gave no sign, simply continued what I was doing, baring the other nipple so I could switch sides.

  Suddenly, there wasn't enough leeway and I reached up with both hands and tore the material until it ripped to the waistline below her belly button.

  Now, I had freedom and slipped the bra straps down over arms so that her breasts were completely revealed to me. She was disheveled, her clothes in shreds, her body revealed to me through the whims of my efforts.

  My dick was raging against the constraints of my pants and I humped at her while I devoured her breasts. I moved up to claim her mouth in a frenzy, my tongue working hers, my hips pressing my rock hard dick against her hips, my hands pulling her to me.

  Her musk intensified as her hips came to me, small moans escaping her mouth as I rocked against her quim.

  I broke away to look at her. Her head was laid back, her nipples rising up into the cool air, the flesh reddened where I had licked and chewed along the flesh of her breasts.

  She was so beautiful and I wanted her. I imagined pressing her face first against the wall, pulling her thong down between her thighs and fucking her with her dress rucked up around her hips and her panties half way down.

  I nearly did, but realized it was too soon, too much.

  Instead, I slit the dress the rest of the way down the front t
o reveal her taut belly, just beginning to pouch, and the lacy front of the thong, with its tiny bow surrounded by a semi-circle of shiny black seed beads.

  I heard the murmured, "Yes," at the same time Cara Mia gasped and pulled the edges together, looking over my shoulder. I turned to see Don Coil watching avidly.

  "Red. I cry Red," she shouted, pulling herself away from me and turning from the man's eyes. Except I saw he watched even more avidly now to see what would happen.

  "What boundary have we crossed?" I asked.

  She drew herself up, mouth set like police boundary, and I knew that Tasha had pushed Cara Mia down, away, and she had opened her book of rules. I took a breath, ready for whatever chapter and verse she was going to quote me.

  "I cannot do this. It's shallow, base, and filthy." She shook her head, and added more quietly, "And it is perverse that it is out in the open where just anyone can see."

  "And yet, I can smell your heat. I can feel your desire." Every word was another way to say exciting if none of her rules applied. I felt triumphant even though she was so horrified.

  Her eyes dropped along with her chin, then lifted, her eyes blazing. "I am not a slut, I am not for public display, for just anyone to enjoy."

  Damn him. Because she was that woman we saw earlier in that she needed to be forced to confront her desires, to be forced to recognize them. But she wasn't ready for the likes of a man like him. I wasn't either, but the rules of the dungeon didn't prohibit anyone from watching.

  She looked at the watching man and marched to the bag at the edge of the tarp, unzipping it. She had the shirt out when I reached her and laid a hand on her arm.

  "What has happened here that is so unbearable?"

  "He saw you touch me."

  In a way it was exciting that he saw me with her. He wanted her, but I had her. He could watch me enjoy her, but that was all he could do. I glanced at him and my lip wanted to curl before I turned back to her.

  "He saw me touch Cara Mia. He saw her take pleasure from that touch. Nothing horrible has happened."

  "But he saw."

  "He saw a man give pleasure to a woman. An anonymous woman wearing a mask."

  She looked down at the shirt.

  "Would you throw everything away because a man saw Cara Mia enjoy her lover's touch?"

  She swallowed as she thought about my words. Then she dropped the shirt back in the bag, and said, "That Cara Mia," her teeth catching at her lower lip. "She must really love you."

  It was my turn to swallow hard. "As much as I love her," I said, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek.

  She walked back to her mat, each step deliberate. She stood facing away from me. A wonderful signal, I thought, to tell me that she was ready to proceed. Even if she was hedging by facing the wall.

  When I stepped in front of her, I put my index finger under her chin. She was sweating, her face streaked with tears that come as she walked to the mat, her lipstick smeared from the kissing. My heart went out to her even as my dick leaped in my pants.

  How beautiful she was, torn by passion, and fighting her head for control of her body. "Don't let anything stand in the way of releasing that glorious passion."

  She shook her head hard. "You're asking too much."

  "Your body tells me you're lying. I know you've enjoyed some of it." I brushed over her thong. "Your snatch is swollen and wet. All these feelings, they can be turned to increase your pleasure. Own them, acknowledge them, and enjoy what we do here."

  She shook her head, unable or unwilling to accept my words.

  Chapter 11

  I swore I wouldn't wheedle, and kept my voice even. "Cara Mia, think of it. No one knows you here, no one sees anything but a woman and a man enjoying themselves. Even if they did see your face, the rules of this community forbid any unbidden mention of this life, the things that happen here. In public."

  She shook her head again, but more hesitantly, her chin quivering. I believed she wanted to be convinced, to not let our relationship end.

  Kissing her, I felt the tension in her back, the muscles tight under my fingers as I massaged and worked the knots. She relaxed a bit and I pulled her hips to me again so she could see how much I wanted her.

  When I felt her worm against me, I asked, "Shall we continue?"

  She moaned, in a quandary.

  "It is hard, I know. Rules have held you tight. But Cara Mia isn't bound by them. Only by her own desires. I love you. I want to release you. And I swear with all my heart I will let nothing harm you."

  A tear ran out from under the mask, leaving a black trail down her cheek. I wasn't sure if I had broken her or relieved her.

  "Will you continue?" I asked.

  "Do I have to turn around?"

  "You must confront all the hindrances that keep your passion bound."

  She growled, but allowed me to turn her around. The man was still there, watching. I wondered what he thought. She sucked in a breath and stood tall as she faced him.

  I breathed across her neck, ruffling the hair and raising a rash of goose bumps that trailed down her arms. Nonchalantly, I kissed her neck, caressing her arms with my fingertips.

  She had expected that I would force the reveal, but I gave her easy pleasure, nothing untoward, until she relaxed, becoming, if not comfortable with her position, then, at least finding terms she could accept.

  "How do you feel, Cara Mia?"

  "Embarrassed, humiliated." She paused as my kisses forced an indrawn breath that ended in a moan. "And...turned on. More than I would have thought possible."

  "Very good. I am so pleased and I love you more for the admission."

  I released her arms and I slid around her until I pressed against her back, my hands tracing their way around her front, hugging. She laid her hands on my forearms, lightly, stroking over the dark hairs that lay there.

  When she laid her head back on my shoulder, I took it as permission to move on. My hands opened the dress to the air, the man's enjoyment, to Cara Mia's entrance.

  With a moan that sounded more like a woman surrendering everything, she squared her shoulders and stood straight, her arms falling to her side as she took refuge behind the domino, the name, the thought of what was at stake.

  I whispered, "Brave Cara Mia," in her ear. She considered it, looked to Don Coil, and she sighed, resigned. My heart lurched. I wanted not resignation, but an embrace of her body, the pleasures I evoked, and the opportunities we could find there.

  I wanted her to stop this ridiculous adherence to rules that served to do nothing but keep all that passion bottled up where it did no one any good.

  Sadness washed over me, which made me angry at my failure. Perhaps I was wrong. She couldn't overcome the stupid rules that kept her so bound up.

  But she hadn't let them go. She just kept holding on to them, like she was adrift in a sea of passion and they were her life preserver. I think she was afraid of what would happen if she dove straight down into the heart of all that passion.

  I had to tear her away from that, force her to swim free in all of that hunger, that warmth she felt, sail away with me on a tide of pleasure.

  With a harsh cry, I pulled the edges hard, and they tore, catching on the Mandarin collar and following the seam around her neck.

  Stepping back, I pivoted her to see the full extent of my work. Her eyes were wide, the whites gleaming in the dull light, her hair escaping the clips that held it in place, her face smeared with black.

  The dress barely hung by the shoulder seams, the neckline looking like an elegant collar on a beautiful woman, ripe and ready for the taking.

  I pulled her to me roughly, feeling her cool flesh against the smooth softness of my shirt. I rubbed against her, the mounds of her breasts mashing against my chest. My dick lurched in my pants and I held her hips to me tightly, feeling the surge of pleasure as my hips rocked in small movements against her.

  Her muscles worked under my hands as she met my strokes. I wanted to fuck h
er, fuck her hard, fuck her amidst the grotty concrete walls with the screams of pain and pleasure rising up around us.

  I wanted to fuck her in the remains of the dress I had bought her, the dress I had cut and torn to reveal the woman I knew was there.

  I stepped back, breathing hoarsely, concentrating on not coming, on not stepping forward and finishing the job I had started on her dress so that I could have her, here, now.

  I heard boot steps and looked to see Master Louis approaching. He didn't look to me, but watched Cara Mia.

  Chapter 12

  She started to pull her dress together, but paused, and then nodded to him. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking to me and then back to her, questioning. She nodded again, gave him a little smile and offered a hand to me.

  I met her eyes, unbelieving that she would be so forward, then took it, and she pulled me to her for a kiss that traveled down to my neck, then boldly reached a hand for my cock, a place she had never ventured before, preferring to allow me all the liberties.

  She cupped my balls, running a nailed finger up the length of my cock. Her skin was hot where I slipped my hands beneath the shredded dress. My hands fit perfectly around the sides of her waist, resting on her flared hips.

  It was time. I pulled her with me as I walked back to the back corner of our space, then turned her. She looked at me, questioning as I pushed her forward until she spread her hands against the wall. The red tips of her nails stood out, shockingly bright against the dull gray of the concrete walls. Her bracelet caught bits of light and twinkled gaily.

  I lifted her hips.

  "Wait," she said, and kicked off the heels. "Ahhh," she groaned. "Much better." I wished I could bring the mat to her, but realized it would ruin the moment. She shook her feet out and flexed her toes before taking up her position again.

  "Cara Mia, you are so beautiful in this moment. I will never forget it."

  Indeed, the torn dress fell away like a stage curtain revealing the lines of her ass, the knots in the backs her legs, the arch of her back. If I painted, I would have sketched it and called it, "Lines of Desire".