In His Custody

by Morganna Williams

  She came closer and put a leg around me. “Mister, what do you think of bad girls?”

  It’d been a while since I was in an opportunity like this. “It depends on just how bad they are,” I told her.

  As if this couldn’t get any hotter, she leaned over my lap. “Bad girls are sexy. We’re even sexier when we are punished, Mister.”

  The way she said Mister, it was such a turn-on. “How are bad girls punished?”

  I knew what she wanted. Due to an inner dominant side that only came out for the right woman, I’d be more than happy to give it to her, as well. I just wanted to make sure this sweet bartender was leading me to the right destination.

  She grabbed my hand and guided it to her leather-clad ass. “Spank me, Mister. Make me beg for your forgiveness.”

  There it was; Mindy wanted me to spank her. The curve of her ass practically begged to feel my hand give her the swat she was asking for. Who was I to deny Mindy what we both desired? I brought my hand down upon that leather-clad ass, the material cracking under my palm. My sweet little bartender let out a moan I’d never forget.

  “Mister, oh, Mister, harder! You don’t know how bad I’ve been!”

  At her urging, I connected again on her ass, and again. With each successive crack of my hand, Mindy let out breathless sighs that told me she was very much enjoying this. Going with it, I grabbed the waist of her pants and pulled them down. There was no underwear, just a bare, reddening ass.

  She looked back, her gray eyes meeting mine. “You’re entering the Land of No Return. You spank me now, and you’ll never be able to give me up.”

  I didn’t respond with words, I responded with the flat of my hand. The feel of her soft skin under the contact sprang my semi-erection into a full-blown hard-on. Seeing my handiwork against her pearly white ass was a joy in and of itself.

  My next crack got a bit closer to her pussy lips. There was heat coming off of them. When I plunged my finger down, I could feel just how wet this made her. It only took two strokes of my middle finger to get a little shiver from her. I teased her, in the most sensitive of places. Then, skillfully, I palmed her neatly trimmed bush near her clit. Mindy’s reaction was instantaneous.

  Her voice was unsteady. “Mister, can you finish the job? Can you really show me who’s boss?”

  I picked her off my lap and placed her ass down on the couch. Her pants were around her thighs, so I pushed them down a bit further over her boots, giving me leverage to insert my throbbing erection into her. Her eyes widened as I entered, a guilty pleasure shared by the both of us in that moment.

  Because of how long it’d been, my eagerness got the better of me this night. There’d be no slow buildup, there’d only be maximum pleasure at warp speed. I don’t know how long it took, not long I am sure, for me to dump all of my seed into Mindy’s precious womb. On the second rope, the feeling of my cum against her brought her to her orgasm and she let loose a wild scream as her body succumbed to mine.

  Mindy’s body drew close as she bucked against me. Her legs squeezed in tight as the trembling of her body crescendoed against mine. Her face contorted with each spasm as the orgasm took hold completely. I looked on in delight as she continued to come for me.

  When we were finished, she looked over at me. With satisfaction in her eyes, she said, “You’ve made me yours, Mister.”

  Chapter Seven

  Excerpt from Under His Hands by Mona Hyatt:

  She was tied with her arms over her head, her legs spread-eagle, the air of the room touching her wide open labia and caressing her clit. She shivered when he came to stand in front of her, every cell in her body aching for his touch.

  He ran a finger from her collarbone to the end of one nipple, already tightly peaked as if it was begging for attention. Catching her eyes with his, he began to pinch and twist her sensitive bud.

  She gasped, straining in her bonds as each pinch of her nipple seemed to send a jolt directly to her clit. She threw her head back with a howl of pleasure when he caught her other nipple between his lips and sucked hard. Her body clamped down on nothing, her empty sheath pulsing as the dual stimulation of her breasts and the insistent throb of her clit became almost more than she could bear.

  “Please…” she begged as her need began to grow to almost unbearable proportions.

  He released her left nipple from his mouth with an audible pop. “What do you need, little girl?” he asked her, never losing eye contact with her.

  The intensity of the gaze seemed to magnify every sensation… every touch. She looked up at him almost desperately as he continued to work her nipples with his fingers. Her voice was hoarse and breathless when she answered, “You…”

  I shuddered as I read over what I’d written; what would it be like to be at a dominant’s mercy like that? Completely under his control as he teased and tantalized me to the point of insanity before finally taking me hard; I couldn’t help squeezing my thighs together against the throb in my clit.

  A secret part of me longed to experience everything my heroines did, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be brave enough to seek it out in the real world. The cyber world of D/s would have to suffice… for now anyway.

  As if right on cue I heard that tell-tale ding announcing a message waiting.

  I grinned and clicked on the blinking icon, then frowned. It was the china doll man again… Deacon.

  Deacon: “Hihi.”

  With a sigh I responded.

  Mona216: “Hello.”

  Deacon: “Hello.”

  Deacon: “How are you?”

  Mona216: “Fine and yourself?”

  Deacon: “I am well. I am pleased to be speaking with you.”

  Another ding sounded and Gregor’s icon popped up. I did not have to pretend enthusiasm to speak to Gregor.

  Gregor: “Mona, my sweet.”

  Mona216: “Hello, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Take off your panties.”

  I grinned; Gregor wasn’t wasting time today. I slipped my panties down my legs and spread my legs wide, enjoying the feel of the cool air of the room against my bare slit. I might not be bound but this was still reminiscent of the scene I’d just written.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Pet that naughty little clit of yours for me.”

  Mona216: “With pleasure, Sir.”

  I moved my legs further apart as I stroked my finger around my clit firmly. I was so slick, my finger was quickly covered in my arousal. It felt so good.

  Gregor: “Don’t come.”

  Mona216: “Should I stop petting my clit?”

  I hoped with everything in me he wouldn’t tell me to stop.

  Gregor: “No. I want you to keep petting that little clitty and stroking it but have enough control not to come.”

  I ignored the insistent dinging indicating Deacon had sent several messages; my conversation with Gregor was too important to allow distractions. I shuddered, fighting the urge to come as I continued to firmly stroke my swollen clit. It was getting harder and harder to keep from going over the edge.

  Gregor: “Shove two fingers into that greedy little pussy hard.”

  I eagerly followed his instructions, pounding two fingers deep inside me as hard as I could while still rubbing my clit. I immediately came with a little scream, spasming hard around my fingers.

  Mona216: “Thank you, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Did I give you leave to come?”

  I grinned; I couldn’t help it… I might have disobeyed but I’d had a rocking orgasm.

  Mona216: “No, Sir.”

  Gregor: “I believe punishment is in order. Don’t you?”

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Slap that greedy little clit hard.”

  I blinked… unsure if I really wanted to do that. The thought of spanking my wet slit was equally frightening and intriguing.

  Gregor: “Now!”

  Almost of its own accord my hand raised and slapped down on my still spread lips
, sending a jolt of stinging pain through my labia and my clit that immediately seemed to morph into a different type of heat. I gasped, shocked by the feelings going through me.

  Mona216: “Ooh.”

  Gregor: “Again.”

  He directed me to slap my wet slit again and again until with a little high-pitched mewl I came after one particularly hard swat to my poor weeping pussy. It was exhilarating!

  Gregor: “Did you come?”

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Good girl. I have to go. Behave, Mona.”

  Then he signed out while I was still trying to catch my breath. In the aftermath of my intense orgasms I felt a wave of sadness I didn’t completely understand. He’d given me exactly what I’d been looking for; why did I feel so empty?

  I clicked on the consistently blinking icon for Deacon, eager to distract myself with something else.

  Deacon: “Where did you go?”

  Deacon: “Why aren’t you talking?”

  Deacon: “Where are you?”

  Deacon: “I don’t like being ignored.”

  Deacon: “Don’t ignore me!!!!”

  Deacon: “I will punish you, whore!”

  I gasped as I saw how quickly his messages escalated into cray-cray. Ignoring the dread pooling in my stomach, I closed out and deleted his messages.

  I wasn’t going to let one idiot ruin the fun I was having with Gregor, Tom, and the rest.

  Chapter Eight

  “Even when Judas hanged himself, there was thunder.”—Tuco the Ugly

  We’d been pulling an all-nighter when Mike Evans, the newest agent that Langley sent down, punched his desk in excitement. “I got a bead on him!”

  “We need to catch this bastard before anyone else dies,” I growled. In the two weeks that I’d been leading the investigation, the fresh-faced Leo Jackson was gone. In his place was an imposter, I felt, a man who was cold and bitter inside. One who was obsessed with catching the Dollface Killer. “What’s the lead, Agent Evans?”

  He was typing away furiously; I’d been in his shoes before so I backed off any more questions. Felicia O’Dell, the original FBI agent assigned to the Orlando field office, was in the office with us. Patiently awaiting my orders, I pointed over to the computer beside Evans. “He might need backup at any moment. Log in and be ready at a moment’s notice.”

  The quiet redhead did as I ordered and within moments was up and ready. My attention went back to Evans, who was engaged in an encryption duel with someone on the other side of the screen. He took a second to fill me in. “The ping came off of some unusual activity on the social media site, Facebook. The user it led back to was an anonymous account in a,” his face got red, “in a BDSM group chat.”

  I could tell Felicia wanted to laugh but given the gravity of the situation, she backed off. “I’m logging in now. I will go after the other users in the group.”

  “Good idea,” I said. If we lost him, I wanted someone to talk to. With both agents occupied, I popped open my phone and dialed my boss. On the second ring, he picked up. “Boss, it’s Jackson in Orlando. We might have the son of a bitch.”

  Alexander, who had probably been asleep, sounded alert. “The Orange County police chief is aware of the case. SWAT is ready at a moment’s notice. Whatever it takes, Leo. Whatever it takes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I had just hung up when Evans spun his chair around with the look of victory on his face. “I broke through. The IP address is in an apartment complex off of Orange Avenue.”

  “Call the police chief. I want SWAT to meet us there in ten. He knows we’re coming.”

  * * *

  Police Chief Marko Sanchez was at the SWAT van when I walked over. “I’m FBI Special Agent Leo Jackson. Thanks for getting ready so quick.”

  Sanchez was an older man with graying hair and years of experience etched into his features. His olive-toned skin looked out of place in the demographic, but the population of the county loved him. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such shitty circumstances.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a quick shake.

  “Me too,” I replied. Surveying the scene, I asked, “Have the apartments been evacuated?”

  “Yep, my officers got here before SWAT—they formed a perimeter and started evac protocols. There’s nowhere for this sick psycho to go.”

  Three SWAT team members came over. “We’re under your command, sir. Whenever you’re ready.”

  My vest was on and my gun in my hand. “Let’s take him down.”

  Two more SWAT members joined us as we rushed the entrance to the apartment complex. We quickly made it upstairs to apartment number two hundred and five. This was the place that Evans traced the user profile back to. Whoever was behind this, they were good. The trace had to cross over fourteen servers scattered across eight different countries.

  Worse even, the apartment was registered to a Harry Johnson. It was so juvenile that it didn’t even set off any alarms with the management. Just who would actually want the name Harry Johnson?

  I reached out and knocked on the door. “FBI! Open up or we’re coming in!”

  There was a noise, barely audible but there. I waited until the count of three before I gave a quick nod to the SWAT team member beside me. Using his shoulder, he rammed the door in. We busted into the apartment with guns raised, ready to shoot.

  Once we were inside, it was apparent there’d be no need to shoot, except in rage. It was a studio apartment and there was no one here, just a rat who scurried across the floor to get away from us. But, just because no one was home, didn’t mean there was nothing to write home about. The walls were covered in pictures of women’s faces. And on the floor were hundreds of little china dolls. They were exactly the same as the one I found after the death of Agent Perez.

  “Damnit,” I muttered to myself. “Get CSI up here,” I said to no one in particular. “God knows what they’ll find.”

  On the way out, I gave one last disgusted look at the scene behind me. This guy was taunting us and I wouldn’t stand for it. “Your days are numbered, psychopath,” I said to no one in particular.

  Chapter Nine

  The cell phone bounced loudly off the wall. “You will be punished for ignoring me!” he screamed as he spun to face the new mirror on the wall. “You said she’d talk to me! You lied!”

  Once again the reflection offered no response, further enraging him.

  “She won’t talk to me! You won’t talk to me! Why won’t you talk!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled, “You always do this!”

  He sank to his knees with a wail of frustration. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

  A weary sigh sounded and he looked up to see his reflection rolling his eyes. “I have never stopped talking to you. I wasn’t in the room, I was talking to Mona… making her moan,” the reflection said with a laugh.

  “Not in the room?” He was confused; he looked over to the mirror on the wall and studied his reflection… it was everywhere there was a reflection on each wall and one standing directly in front of him. “You’re always with me.”

  “That’s right… I’m always with you… you’re never alone. Where is your cell phone?” the reflection asked.

  He guiltily looked toward his smashed phone on the floor.

  “You smashed another phone? Sometimes you’re worse than a two-year-old.” There was a hint of disgust on the reflection’s face.

  “She wouldn’t talk to me,” he explained.

  “I told you to lose the creepy doll profile picture. Besides I’m pretty sure it was me that distracted her with the opportunity to orgasm. When a woman has a choice between china doll boy and a man that will make her come hard… well… sorry, but china doll boy is shit out of luck,” the reflection said matter-of-factly before yawning as if he was bored by the conversation.

  “My dolls are beautiful! Mona is a slut! She will be punished!” he screamed, enraged again.

  “All in good time, Mona and the rest will ge
t what they deserve. You just have to be patient. I brought you a new one already.”

  He calmed as his mouth curved upward into a smile. “Yes… her eyes were perfect. Come and see,” he said, hurrying to the doll room and throwing on the light in triumph.

  The lights reflected in the mirrors surrounded the room, each one catching a different angle of the row of dolls on display. The new doll was set a little apart, clear gray eyes floating in fluid resting in the face of a delicate blonde doll. He lovingly stroked the doll’s cheek. “Isn’t she beautiful? So much better now, she is here with us and away from all that filth. Purified and perfect.”

  A deep sigh of contentment escaped him as he fully relaxed, once more surrounded by his dolls.

  “You will have more for your collection in due time,” the reflection told him with an indulgent smile.

  Chapter Ten

  “Love all, trust a few, do wrong to no one.”—William Shakespeare

  “Whiskey sour, extra sour,” I said as I placed the ten dollar bill on the bar top.

  Mindy smiled as she put the bill into her top. “I’ll never understand why you always order a drink, Leo. We can go right on back to our room, if you’d like.”

  This was the seventh time I’d come to The Red Room, which it turned out was a local dom/sub club, to see Mindy. After the fourth time, she started counting our little visits together as dates. After missing Dollface the other day by the skin of my teeth, I needed her sweet and passionate embrace.

  Just like every previous time, I dropped the drink down the hatch and Mindy walked around the bar to get me. We made our way back to the room, the exact same one we visited each time. After we entered, she took a seat on the couch and crossed her legs, barely hiding her feminine wiles under that short skirt. “You have that dark look on your face again, Mister.”

  At the bar, she addressed me as Leo. In the room though, she referred to me as Mister. This was where I was in control, the master to her submissive. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, darling.” On the second visit, I picked that pet name for her. She liked being the darling to my Mister. “Just know you’re the bright spot in my dark days.”