by Cat Johnson
She exploded beneath him and he rode her orgasm out to the end until he was in agony from wanting her. He was so hard he throbbed. Needing to hide the temptation from his sight, he pulled her dress down after she’d finished shaking.
Flopping onto his back, he tried to regain his own breath and his resolve. Sage panted as she lay next to him, and Mustang concentrated on anything he could besides her in hopes his near-painful erection would go down.
He could still taste her on his tongue, hear her there next to him, feel the warmth of her thigh as it rested against his. He told himself he’d take care of himself later. Unfortunately, Junior wasn’t buying the argument. Especially once Sage rolled over and started running a finger up his leg. He slapped his hand down to still hers.
She sat and crawled on top of him, straddling his legs.
“No, Sage,” he said firmly.
“Yes.” Ignoring his protest, she undid his belt and then lowered his zipper.
Admittedly, it wasn’t like she could overpower him, even with his one arm not as strong as it should be. Yet he seemed unable to stop her.
He made one more attempt. “Please, Sage. Don’t.”
“Shh,” she said while she lowered her head and pushed the waistband of his boxers down.
Feeling her breath on his cock, he shuddered. Then the hot wetness of her sweet mouth surrounded him and he knew he was going to let her do this. Worse, he really wanted her to.
Mustang gave up fighting with himself and watched the tip of his length disappear between her beautiful lips. She couldn’t take him all in, but he didn’t care. She looked up and his breath caught in his chest as he stared into her eyes.
She started to use both her hands and mouth, increasing the speed. As much as he wanted to watch, he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He threw his head back against the blanket and grabbed her face with both hands. He felt his balls tighten and thrust up into her mouth. Holding her, he came deep in her throat.
Sage kept working him as his body jerked, sensitive to the point of pain. Drawing a sharp breath in between his teeth, he pulled her head away. Once free of her mouth, he tried to regain his wits.
The guilt hit when his brain did start to function again. At least they hadn’t had full-blown intercourse. He hadn’t quite broken his promise to himself about not having sex with her before he left. She gazed at him with an expression of complete satisfaction on her face and he groaned. He wanted her all over again. It was going to be a long few months.
Unable to look at her, he stared up at the sky. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wanted to.” He felt the weight of her head resting on his stomach.
“God help me, I wanted you to too.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He knew she was smiling even without looking. A content, sweet smile.
Once he left here, he’d planned on not looking back on his few months of purgatory. But now…
“You know nothing about me, Little Bit.”
“I know lots about you. I always have.”
He raised his head enough to see the determined expression on her face. She sat up. He saw the pinkness still in her cheeks from what they’d done. So sweet. So innocent. So not ready to hear his confession about having sex with another woman on camera, no matter what the reason.
He pushed himself up with his good arm. Standing, he reached down to help her. With guilt lying in his gut like a rock, he scooped her panties off the ground and handed them to her, unable to meet her eyes as he did.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home. I’ll get the food basket. Can you grab the blanket?”
Her face showed the doubts he knew he’d caused in her. He’d messed things up thinking with his dick again. Maybe one day he’d learn to stop doing that.
As she stood waiting with the blanket in her hand, he grabbed her face and planted a quick hard kiss on her lips. He pulled away and stared hard into her eyes. “I’m no good for you, Sage.”
A devilish look appeared in her smile. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
Mustang laughed. Maybe it was.
***
Mustang’s head swirled with thoughts of Sage as he walked home alone after dropping her off. Then he saw his father’s truck parked in the driveway and his mixed feelings about the last few hours were replaced with dread about another workweek looming just hours away.
He was so deep into his misery thinking about work that the sound of the phone ringing in his pocket made him jump.
“Hello?”
“I’ve got another movie for you, if you’re interested.”
Mustang gripped the phone tighter. Interested? No. Desperate? Pretty much. The fifteen hundred he’d earned wasn’t enough to ensure he could pay his bills for possibly four months. And what if he got back on a bull and couldn’t ride? He’d have to keep working with his father.
That thought made his decision. “The same kinda set up?”
“Not exactly. I know you said last time you’re only interested in movies where you can keep your face mostly covered and off camera. This one is perfect for you, but it’s for a niche audience.”
What the hell did that mean?
“But the pay is more because of that,” Missy continued.
More than fifteen hundred? “How much more?”
“Two thousand.”
Shit, now he was very interested. “For one day?”
“Yes, for one day, but I have to tell you it’s for the BDSM market.”
“You mean whips and stuff?”
“Mmm hmm. Among other things.”
Mustang didn’t know if he could whip a woman, even if he was only pretending for the cameras, but two thousand dollars…
Remembering how he’d neglected to ask the proper questions last time, he decided to not make the same mistake again. He considered what else he wanted to know about this gig. “Would it be with Arizona again?”
Considering how she’d treated him last time, he could probably get into whipping Arizona.
“Nope. We have a girl who does all our BDSM films. Mistress Lena. Ever heard of her?”
Mustang smothered a laugh at the name. “No. Sorry.”
“She’s good at what she does. Lena will be able to lead you through, no problem. So you game?”
Mustang stifled some more guilt. The only woman he wanted to be with was Sage. The one woman he shouldn’t be with was also Sage. Meanwhile, he was about to agree to fuck another stranger for money.
It’s not sex. It’s a job. Jon had said that and Mustang did his best to believe it. Clint and Arizona felt the same as Jon, judging by the whole division between boyfriend-sex and work-sex thing.
Two thousand dollars. Mustang glanced down at his bum arm that still had months of healing to go before he could ride.
“Yeah, I’m game.”
Chapter Twelve
“Here’s your mask.”
Mustang took the black item in his hand, frowning at the object that looked more like part of a superhero costume than something used for bondage.
It would cover his face nicely. He guessed that was the most important part.
The guy handed him a pair of black vinyl pants next. “And these are for you to put on.”
That was it. The man’s hands were empty. “No shirt?”
“Nope.”
Mustang’s incision was still very visible, but he’d protected it with clear surgical tape again. Since Missy hadn’t mentioned it being a problem last time, he didn’t think he’d have to worry today.
He looked around him. This shoot was in what he could only call a mansion, judging by the huge columns outside, the marble-floored foyer bigger than half his parents’ house and the sweeping staircase leading up to an open second-floor hall lined with doors.
“Where should I change?” The guy’s eyebrows shot up and Mustang guessed that even though they were standing in the foyer, it had been a stupid question. “Here, I guess?”
“Yeah. Her
e is fine.” Missy’s assistant pointed to a table against the wall. “You can leave your stuff over there. We’ll be filming here in the foyer.”
“All right. When do I get my whip and stuff?” He kind of wanted to get a feel of it before the cameras started rolling.
“Lena’s the only one that touches the whips.” The guy laughed at him. “She’s the dominatrix. You’re the sex slave. You didn’t know?”
“Um, no. I guess I didn’t ask.”
“Oh, man. Are you in for a hell of a day.” He walked away still chuckling.
She handled the whips. It sure explained why he wasn’t given a shirt. Unbuckling his belt, Mustang began an internal pep talk to calm himself. How bad could it be? He could handle pain. He was a bull rider for God’s sake. Besides, she wouldn’t really hurt him. This was all for show. He could handle it.
Feeling better, he dropped his jeans and unfolded the black pants…and things got a little bit worse. He held them up and inspected them more closely and yeah, he was right, there was no ass and no crotch.
Maybe his back wasn’t going to be the only thing getting whipped today. Shit.
He pulled on the pants, feeling like an idiot with his business hanging out and then feeling even stupider trying to tie the mask around the back of his head.
“Need some help with that, sugar?”
A woman dressed all in black leather, right down to the thigh-high boots, and carrying a whip sauntered up to him. Mistress Lena, he presumed.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He held up his left arm. “I had surgery a few weeks ago and it’s still a little stiff.”
“No problem.” She put down the whip and came up behind him, taking the mask and making quick work of tying it on. “That’s done. Now let’s see what else I can make a little stiff besides your arm, shall we?”
She smacked his bare ass with the flat of her open palm hard enough to cause a pretty good sting. His brows shot up in surprise. She was flirting with him? What happened to the this-is-a-job-not-sex rule?
Lena couldn’t have been more different from Arizona and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“You ready to get started?”
“I haven’t been told my lines yet.”
“You don’t talk, except to answer if I ask you a question. Like if I say, ‘Call me mistress’, you answer, ‘Yes, mistress’. It’s easy. You’ll get the hang of it. And if you mess up, that’s okay too. It’ll just play into the scene.”
“I guess I’m ready then.”
“Great. Missy, we’re ready, hon. I just need the rest of my stuff brought in.”
Missy appeared. “You heard her. We’re ready. Someone get Lena her stuff. Places.”
Lights flipped on, blinding him. “You get over by the stairs, sugar. On your knees on the bottom step, your arms braced a few steps up.”
Oh boy. Mustang swallowed hard. “Okay.”
He kneeled, realizing the position left him totally out there for all the world to see when he felt the cool air hit his balls.
“Action!”
Lena launched into her lines, something about how he’d been a bad boy and needed a spanking. Then she proceeded to give him that spanking until he was sure his flesh was as red as a baboon’s ass.
“I think you like the spanking. Do you like the spanking?”
Uh oh. Time for his line. “Yes?”
“Yes, what?” she shouted, accompanying the question with another slap.
“Yes, mistress.”
“Louder!”
“Yes, mistress!”
She took out the whip she’d hung on her belt and started belting him with that while she talked more about his need for punishment, most of which he didn’t pay too much attention to as he wondered what kind of people got off watching this stuff. His mind was wandering when suddenly, the whipping stopped and he felt something cold and wet press against his anus.
Mustang jumped and spun his head to look back at her. “What are you doing?”
While he watched, she took another dollop of lubricant from a jar someone must have handed her off camera.
“I’m teaching you a lesson. Don’t question me.” Lena pushed his shoulder until he was facing the steps again and couldn’t watch what he feared was about to happen. He sure felt it though as she slowly pushed her finger deep inside him. “Do you like that?”
“No, mistress.”
She laughed. “I think you do. I think you’re lying, and lying needs to be punished.”
Her finger withdrew and returned, feeling slicker than before. She added a second finger and his muscles tightened against the invasion. It didn’t stop her. Instead, she pumped them in and out a few times and then left him totally. He dared to turn his head to see what she was doing, not daring to hope this part was over and she’d go back to whipping him.
He wished he hadn’t looked when he saw her lubricating the handle of the whip. He swallowed hard and watched in horror. For the first time he took a good look at her whip and realized the handle was shaped just like a penis.
It was a big handle and he had a bad feeling she was about to stick it in a very small place while he could do nothing but kneel there helplessly with his lubricated ass waiting in the air for her. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it vibrating his throat.
Now he knew what the extra five hundred dollars in his pay was for. It must be the anal-intrusion bonus. He considered yelling “cut” himself and leaving. How angry would Missy be? Considering the number of crew and the amount it must have cost her to rent this place for the day, he figured she’d be pretty angry. Plus he’d signed some papers when he’d arrived. He probably should have read those. She could most likely sue him for breach of contract or something.
Lena kept talking, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything else besides his fear of what was to come. This was only the first scene. He was here for the whole day. Holy crap. What else would they do to him?
It was too late. Mustang had to go through with whatever Lena had planned. He swallowed hard and decided it might be best if he didn’t see what was happening. Pressing his forehead against the step in front of him, he closed his eyes and drew in an unsteady breath, praying it would all be over soon, just as Lena pressed that big, slick cock-shaped whip handle against him and pushed.
***
Mustang’s cell phone rang during the drive home. He really didn’t want to talk to anyone. Every time he moved his butt in the seat the soreness reminded him of what had happened that day.
A ringing phone was hard to ignore, but he managed it. He didn’t even glance at the caller ID. If it were Sage he would have been tempted to answer it. He couldn’t talk to her right now. Not when he couldn’t even face what Lena had done to him with that big, phallic whip handle.
He’d never had anything up there. Ever. One woman had ventured near the area with her fingertip once while they were fucking and he’d shut that plan down right away.
Yet for money he’d let Lena stick not only her fingers in him, but push that obscene-looking thing deep inside. Lena was nothing if not patient and thorough. Oh, yeah. She’d taken her time sliding it in and out of him agonizingly slowly. Over and over while she talked some nonsense and slapped his ass cheek. He couldn’t comprehend anything she said. He’d simply knelt there, his head pressed against the cool marble step, and felt that thing push past muscles he knew he should try to relax but couldn’t.
Push and withdraw. In and out. Every time she pulled it out he prayed it would be the last time. When it finally was, what happened next was worse.
Lena strapped on a harness, complete with a frighteningly life-like dildo, lubed up until it glistened. She’d made him face her, his knees against his chest. After the size of the whip handle, the smaller, flesh-colored cock had slipped easily inside him. Like his body was made for it. He felt the blood rush to his face just remembering that.
What Jon had told him the week before didn’t help the situation or make him feel any better about it. You can
fit pretty much anything up there if you prepare.
She’d grabbed his hips and thrust into him like he was the woman and she was the man. Then he’d gotten aroused. Not just partially, but a full-tilt, point-to-the-sky erection.
Mustang couldn’t even conceive of that. He knew for a fact he wasn’t gay. He loved sex with women above all else. So why did Lena sliding that thing that looked like a man’s dick into his ass get him hard? Not just hard either. When she’d ordered that he make himself come, he’d stroked himself barely a dozen times and, beyond all comprehension, he’d shot off like a rocket.
While she pressed that thing deep inside him, he’d come with one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced. What the hell did that say about him?
The phone rang again and this time he couldn’t ignore it. Anything was better than reliving the scenes from today, so he picked it up and pushed the button for speakerphone. “Hello.”
“Hey. You haven’t called since right after your operation. We were worried. How are you?” Jenna’s familiar voice filled the cab of the truck.
“I’m okay. The arm’s healing. I can use it pretty much. I’m actually driving right now.”
“You’re driving? Mustang. It’s bad enough you’re driving with one broken arm. You shouldn’t be talking on the phone too.”
“Jenna. He’s a big boy. Leave the man alone.” Slade’s muted voice came through the phone.
“You’re there with Slade?” He hadn’t noticed how much he’d missed them both until he’d heard their voices again.
“Yeah. I’ve kinda been traveling with him the last two weeks.”
Mustang could see he wasn’t exactly being missed by his best friend. He guessed he couldn’t blame them for taking the time to be alone together.
His mind flashed back to some of the stuff he, Slade and Jenna had done together and he couldn’t resist asking her about what was uppermost in his mind. “Um, Jenna. Can I ask you something personal?”
She laughed. “Yeah, sure. I suppose so.”
