“Oh,” she said. I wondered if she was reaching between her legs.
“And I won’t blindfold you, because I want you to see the men who are hurting you for their amusement. I want you to see their eyes and hands, and their cocks.”
“Are you going to let them fuck me?”
I could tell from the way she asked that she wanted me to answer yes, and my dick wanted to answer yes, but my mind thought no. Hell no. No one fucks you but me.
Of course, that was ridiculous. That wasn’t how The Gallery worked. Share and share alike, hurt and hurt alike, and occasionally pass your subs around to other horny Doms, because everyone got off on it. I’d shared dozens of women at The Gallery, and enjoyed watching them open their legs and mouths for other men’s cocks. If the women wanted it, I wanted it, but the idea of sharing Ella didn’t bring the usual surge of depraved pleasure.
“I might let them fuck you.” My erection was fading. “If you deserve it.”
But probably not, because I’m feeling violently jealous right now.
That was a first for me, feeling jealous about actions and situations that hadn’t even happened yet, concerning a woman I’d only known for a week. It was kind of insane. Kind of stupid.
“Are you touching yourself right now?” I asked.
“I might be. The Gallery sounds like a pretty sexy place.”
“Are you wet? Are you soaking your panties?”
“Yes.” I heard the shift in her voice as I unzipped my fly. “Yes, Sir. I’m very wet.”
“You need to take those panties off, then, before they’re a total mess. Do it now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I stroked my fingers up and down my shaft, imagining her getting naked, remembering the delicate way she moved. My body missed her. My cock missed her. I was throbbing with need.
“Are your panties off? Are you in bed?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Because you should be getting some sleep soon. The best way to deal with jet lag is to be proactive. Get totally nude and lie back on top of the covers. It’s okay if you feel a little cold, a little exposed. You still need to do what I tell you.”
“Okay, Sir.” Her voice was so expressive. In that Okay, Sir, I heard humor, dread, curiosity. Definitely lust. “I’m lying down now.”
“Good girl. Now open your legs as wide as you can while still feeling comfortable, because you’re going to keep them open for a while.”
“Okay.”
“Are they open? Take a picture for me. I want to see your pussy.”
A pause, and then, “Please, no pictures. I promise I’m doing everything you say.”
She sounded troubled, even upset. “Okay,” I said. “No pictures.” Some subs got into that, while others were cautious, and Ella barely knew me. “What I need you to do now is reach down and part your pussy lips, and hold them back so you can feel the air on your clit. But be careful you don’t touch your clit, all right? I don’t want you to do that.”
“Okay. Yes, Sir.”
I could hear the echo of her apartment bedroom, since I was on speaker now. I pumped my cock, listening for every small, ambient sound. “Do you have a dildo there?” I asked. “Or a butt plug?”
She let out a little laugh. “No. I was afraid to bring anything through customs.”
“Too bad. We’ll have to use our imaginations. Are you still holding your pussy lips open?
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want you to pretend my cock’s sliding into you right now. I want you to squeeze on it, and arch your hips like I’m stretching you open and coming all the way in.” I stroked my cock along with my words, wishing I was really sliding into her. “Can you feel my cock in your pussy, Ella?”
“Yes, Sir.” She sounded breathless. I was already holding off an orgasm.
“I want you to close your eyes and feel my cock inside you, but I don’t want you to touch your clit. Do you understand? You’re not allowed to come right now, because I’m not hurting you. You’re only allowed to come from now on when I’m hurting you. That’s our new rule.”
She made a sound of complaint, something between a whimper and a groan.
“Don’t you dare touch your clit, girl, even if it’s wet and aching. My cock is aching so bad, thinking about you with your legs spread, a big cock inside you. It’s too bad you’re not allowed to come, but rules are rules.”
“But I really want to come. Please, Sir.”
“No. That’s not the way it works between us. If I was there, I could put some nipple clamps on you, and put a big, painful butt plug in your ass, and maybe then I’d let you come. But you’re not feeling hurt enough right now, are you?”
“I’m hurting a little bit,” she said. Almost a whine. “I mean, it hurts that I can’t touch my clit.”
“Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll know if you do it. You keep those fingers right where they are. Close to your clit, but not touching it. And don’t roll over and try to hump the bed or anything. Only whores do that. Just lie there and imagine my cock moving in and out of you, pounding your hungry, juicy pussy. Are you imagining that?”
She didn’t respond, just made a sound that was so pained and frustrated I almost lost it. My orgasm throbbed to be let loose. I held to the last few moments of stretching pleasure, basking in her discomfort.
“I’m going to come, baby,” I told her. “I’m fucking your pussy so hard, and it’s so beautiful that you’re doing as you’re told, even though it means you can’t come too. Are you hot, baby?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“I know, it’s so hard. It’s so sad. Just keep those legs spread. I promise next time we’re together I’ll hurt you and let you come, but not tonight.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice trembling with disappointment. “I wish you were here to hurt me. I really do.”
“I know.” I gritted my teeth, so close, so close. “I’m coming now. God. Jesus. I’m coming inside you. Can you feel me?”
“Yes. Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t close your legs.” I gasped as I spurted all over my hand. The sensation was nothing without the gorgeous visual of her suffering on her bed across town, thighs spread, clit exposed, her features twisted with longing. I shuddered from the power of it, and her willingness to play along.
“God, baby, that was so fucking good.”
“Yeah,” she said, forlornly. “I’m glad it was good.”
“It wasn’t as good for you, was it? Take some deep breaths, and pretend your clit isn’t there.”
“That’s hard to do,” she whimpered. “Because it’s really buzzing right now.”
“I know. Just stay as you are, perfectly still, until the arousal starts to fade. Because you aren’t allowed to come, are you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Why, baby?”
“Because you aren’t hurting me, and I’m only allowed to come when you’re hurting me. Although, this kind of hurts right now, a lot.”
“I know it does. Deep breaths.”
She made another of those desperate, breathless sounds, half gasp, half grunt. If I wasn’t so wrung out, I might have come again.
“You sure you won’t take a picture for me?” I asked. “I bet you look beautiful right now.”
“I’ll take one of my face if you want. But no nudity. It’s…to be safe.”
“I get it. That’s fine. Yes, let go of your pussy lips and send me a picture of your beautiful face, of how you’re feeling right now.”
The shot came across a moment later. Flushed cheeks, wet eyes, lips parted in gorgeous need. I saved it to my porn folder, it was that good. She looked tired, sad, horny. Obedient.
“You’re such a good girl,” I said, replete with satisfaction. “Such a fucking amazing girl. How’s your clit doing?”
“It’s still sensitive. Painfully sensitive.” She sighed. “I want to come so bad.”
“No.” I used my Dom voice, because I’m a sadist, and I wanted to keep her
hot. “But if you like, I’ll stay on the line with you until you feel calm enough to put your panties back on without messing them up.”
“Okay. That might take an hour or two.”
“Poor baby.”
I listened to her slow breaths, staring at the photo she’d sent me. Now and again, I’d hear quiet mutters, or a sigh. Maybe things were kind of complicated between us, as she would say, but it had been a long time since someone had turned me on this much.
Chapter Thirteen: Ella
Honest truth: I didn’t finish myself off that night. I really wanted to. Let’s be honest, I could have hung up the phone and jerked off ten times in a row, but in some strange way, I didn’t want to break the spell.
And I didn’t masturbate the next day either, or the next, and then Devin was back at work, and so was I. I was far behind in my reading, and I was expected in the lab by Wednesday at the latest. I decided to get there on Tuesday and start wading into the fray. I didn’t want to give Leo any possible reason to criticize or belittle me—the blackmail was enough.
I dressed in nice, professional clothes to meet my new co-workers. A white blouse and slacks, with a pale gray cardigan sweater. I did my hair and put on earrings, and made sure my glasses were clean. I was trying not to stand out, or perhaps trying not to look like the kind of woman who was late because she’d been fucked by a pilot in the Azores the entire last week.
There were nine of us around the conference table, and I was the only female—not unusual in my field. Unlike Leo, the rest of them seemed like nice guys. Once we said our hellos, they scattered to communal workspaces while Leo showed me around the office and caught me up on the team’s various projects.
I hadn’t seen Leo since I’d gone to Europe two years ago. He looked the same—black hair, compact body, freakishly long arms. I’d forgotten how overpowering he could be in person. He had the gall to act amiable and breezy, enthusing about my decision to “join the team.”
“It wasn’t my decision,” I reminded him. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I didn’t know how else to get you on a plane. We need you to do important work here. We need your expertise.”
I looked around the office he’d assigned me, with Dr. E. Novatny stenciled on the door. I’d had a nicer desk in Santo Stefano. “I was doing important work at the EGO facility,” I told him.
“Were you?” He scoffed. “Let me guess, your ludicrous time travel project? It was cute when you were an undergrad, but you’re a grown woman now.”
He was bold, bringing up my undergraduate years, when he’d exploited my naiveté to get me into his bondage bed. “I’m a theoretical scientist,” I said, refusing to accept his mockery. He’d used it to control me so many times, but I wasn’t putting up with it now. “Theoretical scientists are supposed to have unconventional ideas. That’s how discoveries are made. And I’m not the only one talking about time travel since the last neutron collision. We’re getting closer to quantifying the ripples in space-time—”
“Which can teach us about the nature of the universe, but there’s no evidence that man will ever be able to manipulate the direction of time.”
“The lack of evidence means nothing,” I argued. “These waves we’re measuring have been around for millennia, but when’s the first time we were able to perceive them?” I paused, pursing my lips. “Two years ago, right? So how can you be sure about anything?”
“You’ve always asked the wrong questions,” he said, with a critical tilt to his brow.
“You’re the one who wanted me here. Now you have me, and my various scientific interests, to include the plausibility of bending time.”
His eyes rested on me, an uncomfortably heavy stare. “I’ve missed you, Ellie.”
“Don’t call me that. I don’t go by Ellie anymore.”
“You’ll always be Ellie to me.”
This was classic Leo, the way he talked around my requests, and tried to intimidate me with his gaze. It had worked so well on me when I was young and stupid, but it wouldn’t work now. “You used compulsion to get me here,” I said in a quiet voice. “And I’m here to make the best of things with your team and see where we can take the science of gravitational waves, but that’s where it ends.”
“Is it? How can you be sure about anything?” he replied, tossing my words back in my face.
“I can be sure we aren’t going anywhere, because I’m…I’m seeing someone.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Devin wouldn’t mind if I used him to make my ex-lover back off.
“You’ve met someone?” he asked as I sat at my new desk. “Someone serious?”
“I’d rather not discuss my personal life with you.”
He laughed—a nasty, short laugh. “Not serious, then. More like what we had, a meeting of the minds and bodies.”
I glanced toward my open office door and hoped no one was listening to his suggestive, snide voice. “I’ll probably boot up my laptop and settle in, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded. “That’s one thing I always loved about you. Your focus and determination, whether in the lab or the dungeon.” He moved toward the door when I shot him a nasty glare. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I can’t just pretend we never ‘happened,’ especially when I haven’t seen you in so long. Maybe one of these evenings we can catch up over drinks, if your not-serious love interest doesn’t mind.”
“Or we could preserve a professional working relationship, especially considering what I gave up to come here.”
He waved a hand. “Trust me, this will end up being the best decision of your career. Those idiots in the EGO lab are mucking about with last year’s interferometer.”
“Idiots? They were my friends.”
He shook his head like he felt sorry for me. “Ellie, please. You’re old enough now to understand that friendship doesn’t matter as much as scientific progress. It can’t, not if you’re a professional. You have to keep pressing forward. We’re talking about the universe here.”
I opened my laptop and turned it on. “I can be professional and still value my friends. Not that you’d understand.” I stabbed a finger in his direction. “I’m talking to the man who turned out to be the worst friend in my life.” I put the word friend in air quotes. “But the rest of the guys here seem okay, so I’ll make the best of it.”
“They’re a pretty good group, aside from Tourmel. Watch out for that one.”
He can’t be worse than you. I missed my friends in Italy, and my nice office. At least I had Devin and his friends to hang out with here…and adventures at The Gallery, if I could work up the nerve. From what Devin described, it seemed especially intense. It was definitely more regimented than any BDSM club I’d attended to this point. There were actual papers to sign, and uniforms to be fitted for. I wondered what they looked like. Sexy, no doubt. Stripper couture? French maid?
When I got home from work on Friday, there was a package waiting at my apartment, a smooth, rectangular box from Devin Kincaid. I took it into the living room and sat on the couch, and cut away the seal holding it closed. I pulled back the cover to reveal deep blue tissue paper, along with a note in messy handwriting.
Dear Ella,
I’m back at work, and won’t return until Tuesday. Enclosed you’ll find some things to make you uncomfortable until I can put my hands on you again.
You’ll also find a paper detailing the rules of The Gallery. I want you to wear my “gifts” while reading over them, and if you’re sure you want to go, I’ll take you for your uniform fitting on Tuesday evening.
Have fun, you little pervert, and only come if you’re following our “rule.”
Dev
I flung aside the note, my stressful time at work forgotten, my pussy throbbing with sudden lust, but he hadn’t sent anything for my pussy. That would feel too good. There was a pair of black clover clamps—shudder—and a thick, black butt plug molded to the shape of a cock. I regarded the thing. It was made of metal, not the
more forgiving silicone. It was wider at the tip than most, and it barely tapered inward where it ended at the flanged base. It was a masochist’s butt plug, made for killing, not thrilling.
Along with the butt plug, he’d provided some anal-specific lube in a bottle that read “BACK DOOR” in large neon letters. I’d need to find a hiding place for that, but I appreciated that I didn’t have to go out and buy my own.
Beneath his “gifts” was a manila envelope with the Gallery rules, but I wasn’t supposed to read them until…
I took a deep breath, looking at the thick plug, not to mention the medium-weight nipple clamps. They weren’t going to feel good. You’re only allowed to come from now on when I’m hurting you. That’s our new rule.
I wondered where he was right now. Flying, maybe, thousands of feet off the ground. I wondered if he knew that right now, this moment, he was turning me on beyond bearing. I went to the bathroom and took a shower first, thinking about Devin and the time he’d fucked my mouth under the water, and shoved my face back under the shower head, so it felt like I might drown.
When I got out of the shower, I lubed my asshole, taking my time, being thorough. The lube was slick and smooth, and warmed my skin as I penetrated myself. I stretched my ass a little with my fingers, but nothing was going to prepare me for the thick, cock-shaped plug he’d chosen. It would hurt going in no matter what I did beforehand, but I wanted it to hurt. Devin wanted it to hurt.
I put a generous sheen of lube on the hard plug and bent at the waist, reaching back to position the toy at my asshole. I pretended Devin was doing it, so I wouldn’t be too gentle and tentative. I pressed it in, pushing it back and forth to work the hard crown past my sphincter. Ow. The pain arrived, the smarting stretch. I withdrew it a little and pressed it forward again, gritting my teeth against the increasing discomfort.
At last, I relaxed enough to push it in, and the lube eased the plug deeper, filling me up. The pain of the toy’s entry had my pussy dripping and my legs trembling, and I wished Devin was here to see me taking his huge, uncomfortable probe up the ass. I arched my back and shoved it the last few inches, slowly, slowly, letting out a breath when it was finally seated with the flange between my cheeks.
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