A surge of frustration and desire rushed to my groin. I pushed my tongue forward, hoping he would let me at least lick him. I wanted to taste him.
Another slap, first on the same cheek, then the other. I groaned.
“You’re such a greedy girl.” He held the beautiful mushroom head of his cock centimeters away from my mouth, so that I could tilt my head forward and lick it. A tiny bead of pre-cum topped the head and I slurped it up. “I like that about you.” He pushed his cock toward my face, and with his fingertips guiding me, slid it between my lips.
Hungrily, I devoured him, my mouth quickly filling with saliva as I worked the underside of his shaft with my tongue. His hips pressed into me, fucking my face at whatever pace he chose. I relaxed my throat as best I could so I could take more of him. When his prick hit the back of my throat I heard him make a strangled noise that I interpreted as positive reinforcement.
One thrust went too far, igniting my gag reflex. A chilly tremor rankled through my body and my nipples hardened with a ferocity that made my breasts cry out to be touched. I heard him chuckle and go deep again. My throat accommodated him this time, but soon I struggled to breathe.
At the very moment I was gasping for air, it occurred to me that the elevator would more than likely have cameras installed in it. I pictured the hotel staff gathering around watching Quentin fuck my throat, with me on my knees, worshipping his cock. I imagined the onlookers high-fiving each other, and I made a squeaky noise of protest as my Master continued to take my mouth and use it for his own pleasure.
The experience made me feel, at the same time, humiliated and more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. A part of me wanted him to stop, wanted to never have agreed to do this in a public place, but the part of me that took over wanted to be his slut, wanted to be taken by him whenever and wherever he saw fit. I liked giving the control over to him and letting him use me like this. It gave me a high that doing what was expected of me never had.
“I’m going to shoot my load down your throat, you little bitch.”
I managed a slight nod, but I felt weak again, dizzy with lust, and I let go of my hands behind my back and dug my fingers into his thighs, holding tight to steady myself.
His legs were muscular and solid as tree trunks. I clung to them, and when I felt his seed coursing through his penis and finally down the back of my throat, I felt a peace and happiness that I’d never experienced before.
He pulled out an inch or two. “Clean it.”
I lovingly laved my tongue around his softening penis, licking and swallowing every drop of cum on him, which wasn’t much because he’d deposited most of it deep at the back of my throat. What there was tasted salty with a hint of sweet, precisely what I would have expected to come out of him.
Removing himself from my mouth he tucked his dick back in his underwear and his shirt back in his pants. Then he pressed a button on the elevator that made it start moving again.
I wiped my hand across my mouth, trying to clean myself up, then I tapped him on the leg and stretched out my hand for him to help me to my feet.
He winked at me. “You stay right there, princess.”
Before I could process what he was saying, we went up two floors and the door opened. Two businessmen stood in front of us, arms crossed, waiting for the elevator. When they saw me on my knees, their eyes lit up and I saw one of them bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
My face felt like it was on fire, and when Quentin turned and offered me a hand I considered not taking it, but struggling to stand up on my own after rejecting his help would only make me look even more foolish. I took his hand, stood up as straight as I could and said, “Thank you.” Looking past the men, I kept my eyes forward, and without saying another word, followed Quentin to the hotel room.
Even the way he inserted and pulled back his key card had a sexual undertone to it, and I wondered if he had perverted my brain for life. “Come in,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just humiliated me in public.
I crossed over the threshold into the hotel room, which was beautiful and luxurious, all clean, modern lines and muted colors. Standing with my arms crossed over my chest, I asked, “What the hell was that back there?” I hooked a thumb in the direction of the elevator.
“To what are you referring?” The opaque look on his face made me want to punch him.
“The way you wouldn’t help me up off the floor. You wanted me to be humiliated, wanted those men to see me, to know that I ‘serviced’ you in that elevator.”
“So what if I did?”
“Ugh! You’re such a perv! And you know that they probably have cameras in there. There are probably people who work in the hotel, watching that right now and laughing.”
He arched a brow. “The cameras. I hadn’t thought of that, but that adds a nice touch, doesn’t it?”
I glared at him.
“As for being a perv, that’s old news. In fact, I was under the impression that was what you liked about me. Come here.” He beckoned me with his index finger.
Slowly, I plodded toward him, a frown on my face.
He took me in his arms, the way I had wanted him to when we were first alone in the elevator. He positioned my arms around his neck then held me around my waist, and even though I’d fantasized about this moment a thousand times, the real thing felt so much better. “What do you think those men thought when they saw you on your knees?”
“That I was a slut.”
“And?” His voice was a velvet whisper against my ear. His hot breath made me strain against my clothes. I wanted them off, wanted nothing between the two of us.
“I don’t know,” I hedged.
“Yes, you do. Don’t be lazy. You don’t need to be coy with me. What else were they thinking?” he demanded.
“They wished they could fuck my mouth.”
“Good girl. That’s right. They were thinking how lucky I was to have a beautiful girl like you on her knees, sucking me off in an elevator. How they wished it was their cocks in your throat.”
“Yes.” I knew my pussy was dripping now, and my nipples strained against my bra.
He reached up and pinched one of my nipples hard, and I whimpered with a combination of pleasure and pain.
“See? Doesn’t it feel good to embrace your inner slut?” he growled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t you like knowing there are men out there who are probably going to jack off to thoughts of you tonight, if they haven’t already gone to the bathroom and done it already?”
On one level, the thought sickened me. It was sleazy and crass and disgusting, but on a deeper, more primal level, the thought of starring in men’s fantasies made me hot. How could he know me so well? How could he possibly know these depraved corners of my mind? I certainly didn’t tell him that. How could I, when I hadn’t even realized it myself?
“I didn’t hear you,” he warned.
“Yes, I like it.”
That seemed to appease him for the moment. “Good girl. I think you’ve been so good that you earned those kisses you wanted.” Then he dipped his head and planted those gorgeous lips of his on mine.
I was so aroused that I thought that almost anything he did now would make me come, so I dug my fingers in his dark hair and kissed him back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Whether it was because it had been such a long time coming, or whether he was really that good of a kisser I wasn’t sure, but Quentin’s lips left a scorching trail of lust wherever they touched and I couldn’t get enough. Darting into my mouth, he penetrated me with his tongue. I devilishly sucked on it, but he pulled back slightly, letting me know he would be the one leading this dance.
He tugged on my lip before leaving a trail of hot kisses down my jaw all the way to the hollow of my throat. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him, fearing this moment wouldn’t last. Giving me a final squeeze, he slapped my bottom and stepped back.
“I’d lik
e you to undress for me,” he said, walking over to the bed to sit down.
“Here?” I stalled, remembering that he’d never seen me naked before. I had successfully avoided the cam sessions, and even though we’d been intimate in numerous ways, I’d never shown my body to him.
My soul yes, but my body no.
My body was something I was neither proud nor ashamed of. Average in many ways, and about ten or fifteen pounds heavier than I would have preferred, but I did have an hourglass shape. Each summer I survived bathing suit season, and every few years took advantage of a gym’s January specials. I usually only went a few times before the rest of my life got in the way. Mostly I relied on my walks with Felix to keep me in shape.
Since I knew I would be meeting Quentin, I got a full wax a few days ago, so at least I had confidence in the grooming aspects of my appearance. In a moment, he would be able to inspect every inch of me, the way a farmer would inspect his livestock.
Quentin held up his wrist to look at an invisible watch. “Anytime…”
I started to unfasten my skirt, but he held up a finger. “Not so fast. Put on a show for me.”
A show? My gut tightened. I was no exhibitionist, and unlike Shelby, I let the whole pole-dancing classes craze pass me by. I gulped, and slowly let my skirt fall to the floor then began unbuttoning my blouse, trying to make it as tantalizing as possible, but fearing that I was failing miserably.
He observed me in silence.
I let my blouse drop, unhooked my bra, and wriggled out of it. As I stood there in my panties and heels, he motioned with his finger for me to continue so I kicked my shoes into a corner, hooked my fingers in my panties and pulled them off.
“Good,” he said, but I was unable to read his reaction. Did he find me attractive? His expression gave nothing away as he strode over to a suitcase resting on a luggage stand, retrieved a few items, and placed them on the bed.
“The first thing I’d like you to do is choose which of these tools you’d like me to use on you first.” He beckoned me to come toward the bed, where he laid out three implements. One looked like a long reed, the other was a black riding crop, and the third was a silver stick with a wheel made up of tiny tines. As much as I enjoyed our play with the forks I wanted to try the last one, so I reached to pick it up.
“Ah, ah, ah!” He held up a finger to stop me. “That’s not how you’re going to show me. Choose the one you’d like me to use on you first, then I want you to pick it up with your teeth and bring it to me.”
Odd instructions, but I felt a stirring between my legs nonetheless. Climbing on the bed, I tried to pick up the wheeled toy with my mouth. Several times I almost had it, but then dropped the blasted thing. It was almost impossible to get it to stay in my mouth. Finally, I caught it between my teeth and crawled toward him with it.
He removed it from my mouth and patted me on the head, which felt better than it should have.
“Now pick out the next one.” I turned and looked at the two items left on the bed. At this point, I based my decision on which would be easier to pick up and carry in my mouth. The reed looked difficult to get hold of, but I was afraid the crop would be too heavy, so I went for the skinny bamboo-looking stick.
I sucked it between my lips, clamped it tight, and brought it to him proudly.
“Good girl.” He petted my head and stroked my hair in a way that made me want to nuzzle him like a cat. “Now, lie down on your back, spread-eagled, and raise your arms above your head.”
Getting into the position he choreographed for me, I felt more like a performer than myself, a magician’s assistant—part of the act. The whole thing was so surreal. Especially because Quentin had turned out to be so good-looking. It was like being trapped in the dream sequence of a movie.
I was disappointed to see that he remained in his clothes, but since I tasted his cock earlier, I expected to see it again. My mouth began to water as I pondered how it was possible to have two such incredible surprises in one day.
He took some rope from his bag and wrapped it around my wrists. I loved the feel of the rope, there was something about it… something raw and sensuous that made my pussy clench. The rope he used was made of hemp, and it was more coarse than the silky white rope I’d been eyeing at the hardware store, fantasizing about. He secured the ropes under the bed, and made sure my restraints were sufficiently tight, but not so tight they cut off my circulation.
As I lay there with him kneeling over me, working on my wrists, his crotch loomed centimeters from my face. I wanted to nudge him with my chin, but I knew better so I lay there patiently, aching to touch him, but knowing I had to earn those privileges.
Moving down my body, he made a production of letting the coarse rope scrape across my nipples. The rope slid over my skin, lightly scratching me, making me arch my back for more, but instead he turned his focus to my ankles.
“You’re very responsive. That’s good. I want you to feel everything I do to you. Everything.” He went back to securing my left ankle then he teased me with the rope on the other side, making my nipple harden into a tight bud.
He groaned and bent his head to taste me. His lips covered my breast, flicking over the hard point of my nipple with his tongue. Then he bit down, trapping me between his teeth, and gently gnawed at me, sending jubilant waves through my body and making my cunt throb with need. His hands caressed my neck, my torso, my other breast, and I lurched against my bonds, trying to touch him back. Biting my nipple, he rose, stretching it away from my body until I yelped in pain, then he released me from his grasp and went back to work binding my other ankle.
I wanted to complain, to yell at him not to get me all worked up, then leave me there helpless with no way to satisfy myself, but I knew this was precisely the state he aimed to put me in.
Once he had me bound, he sat at the edge of the bed between my legs. I felt so vulnerable, with my pussy exposed, no way to close my legs. Modesty was nonexistent in our relationship, but I’d grown up with the concept so ingrained in me that it was hard to ignore my wish for it now.
“Close your eyes. Focus on the sensations.”
“Yes, sir.” I had no idea what would come next, but I shut my lids and tried to breathe evenly.
He took one of my feet firmly in his hands and began to massage it. Rubbing the length of my sole, he squeezed and worked my heel, kneaded inside my arch, pressing his thumbs in just the right spot. I relaxed completely, savoring his touch. He massaged the balls of my feet, then wiggled each toe, stimulating them in places I didn’t even know were there. He blew on my little piggies and rubbed the crevices between them. It felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Then he gave the same amazing treatment to my other foot.
When he finished, he must have picked up the wheeled toy I’d first chosen because, even though I didn’t dare open my eyes, I felt the cold steel run up the bottom of my foot then up to my thigh. He ignored my pussy, but dragged the wheel over my breast, and up to the top of my head via my hairline.
“Is that what they call a Wartenberg wheel?” I asked.
“It is. Do you like it?”
“So far…”
“Yes, it can be evil as well. It depends on how you use it.”
He raked it down my other side, down my other breast, over my abdomen, down my inner thigh, ending at the bottom of my foot. Each place he’d rolled it over had awakened and it invigorated my skin.
Suddenly something cold and wet entered my vagina. A hard object, definitely not human. I stiffened, trying to keep myself from peeking. “What is that?” My voice trembled.
“A nightstick, actually. Not as pliable as a dildo, I know, but it will suffice for now. If you’re a good girl, you might earn the real thing.”
“A real dildo or a real cock?” I asked, half joking.
“My cock.”
A shiver of anticipation zipped through me. God how I wanted to have his cock inside me now, though my body did seem to be responding to the current intru
ding object as he fucked me with it. I tried to relax again, to focus on the fucking. I was happy that it was my Master doing it, pleasuring me…
But my thoughts were interrupted by a vicious roll of the Wartenberg wheel zinging across my breast. This time he dug in deeper, and it hurt. Well, it almost hurt. Confusingly, it felt rather nice at the same time. Another zinging combination of pleasure and pain.
He fucked me with the nightstick while he wheeled that baneful tool over my nipples one at a time. I tugged at my arm restraints and groaned through tight lips.
“Relax. It will hurt less if you do.” He finally stopped with the wheel, but as soon as he did, I felt the whack of what must have been the crop on one breast, then the other.
“Aye-yi-yi!” I cried out.
“Do you need to be gagged while I abuse your body, sub? If you make too much noise the hotel is going to send someone up here, and I don’t think you want me to explain to them that there’s a naughty little schoolteacher in here who needs her cunt fucked relentlessly, but that she has to earn it first. Or do you?”
I shook my head wildly. I must be quiet. There was no way I wanted him to explain that to anyone!
“Then be silent.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, and he went back to swatting my breasts with the crop. Each blow stung, and I was certain my skin was bright pink by now.
Then as quickly as he’d started, he stopped.
The “cock” in my pussy slowed. He dipped a finger into my cunt and smeared my juices on the rest of my lips, coating me with my sweet nectar all the way to my clit. I felt my folds being spread apart, and to my dismay I felt the mean little pricks of the wheel rolling slowly, menacingly, across my clit.
I let out a shriek.
“What’s your safe word?” he asked.
“Bluebird,” I managed through gritted teeth.
“Do you need to use it?”
“No!”
“You sure?”
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