by Mj Fields
“Mmmm-kay,” she says, as her head falls back against my shoulder.
“I don’t eat pussy,” I say, as I fuck her swollen little cunt with my fingers.
“But,” she protests.
“You’re the exception, so when you are making that list, remember that I am offering you something that is a rare gift.”
“Mmkay,” her knees begin to give way and her tight little twat squeezes even harder. I pull my fingers out of her. “Sabato!”
“No talking. No thinking. Feel.”
“You—” I push her forward until she is bent over the bed.
“Don’t move. Don’t talk, unless you are asked a direct question.”
And she doesn’t say a fucking word. This will work out just fine.
I grab my bag and take the blindfold and rope out as she watches. “You can’t stay still, Melyssa, this is necessary. You need to tell me with your mouth what your kinks are and what you’re adamantly against. I know you like to watch, but you’re the one who set the monogamy rule up, so I can’t give you a good show with someone else. Not again.”
“I don’t want that.”
“What, then? My bag of tricks here is limited. We can get beads, vibrators, whips, floggers, nipple clamps....” I pull her shirt all the way off, allowing her hands to go free.
She rolls her shoulders and moans.
“I need an answer.”
“I don’t know how to answer.” Her face is red with embarrassment.
“Truthfully.” I put the blindfold over her eyes, “This will make it easier. Watching for my reaction tells me you are not allowing yourself to feel.”
“I feel embarrassed.”
“That’s nonsense. The only feeling you need to concentrate on is how your body responds to my stimulation. When we are together like this, there will be no emotional bullshit, because that fucks everything up. As a matter of fact, let’s have no emotional bullshit, ever. Pleasure, and planning; that’s all you and I need to worry about, Melyssa. It’s a win-win. Do you understand?”
“Sort of.”
I cup my hand and smack her little round ass.
“I don’t like punishment.”
“Noted.” I pull her up and sit on the edge of the bed, then pull her down over my knee. I raise my hand and strike her ass again. “This isn’t a punishment, Melyssa.” I do it again. “Feel.”
“What am I feeling?” she asks. She is not upset, but curious.
“Does this hurt?” I do it again.
“No.”
“The spanking, when done in the right way, causes vibration to ripple through your muscles. It’s actually a form of massage.” I do it again, but this time I don’t stop. “It’s a rhythm. It will relax your muscles, while sending the vibration to your pelvis, stimulating you. It causes fresh blood to flow, which makes this,” I shove my finger inside her and she cries out, “more sensitive and pleasurable.”
“Mmkay,” she whimpers.
“So is this punishment?”
“Nooooo,” she moans, when I curl my fingers up inside her.
“Mmkay,” I say, with a smirk. “Now tell me Melyssa, what else is on your list of hard limits?”
I spit in my hand and rub it between her ass cheeks.
“No um,” before she has a chance to finish, I smack her ass in rhythm again, over and over. With each strike, I watch her ass shake. She really has a beautiful, round ass. I use my hand to spread her cheeks and she tenses up. “No, not that.”
“You’d enjoy it.”
“No.”
“How about ‘not now?’ Keep an open mind.”
“Not now.”
“What else, Melyssa?”
I rub her back and squeeze her ass, while she thinks about it.
“I think that’s it.”
I know better, of course, but I will table that discussion and enjoy this moment, this feeling of giving pleasure to her. Teaching her, touching her. Watching her lose her mind and come until she can’t move.
She may have a strong mind, but she is weak when it comes to touch and desire. I will use that to my advantage.
“Give me your wrists. I remember how much you move around. You need to be tied up. You like that.”
“Mmkay.”
“Are you comfortable?” He asks in his rough, husky voice and tugs on the rope.
“Yes.”
“That word Melyssa, that’s my favorite.”
I am secretly smiling inside. I like to make him happy. I like letting him make me happy. And, oh my god, do I like to be spanked and tied up.
I’m also suspecting that I may really like to be spanked, tied up, kidnapped, threatened at gunpoint and forced to marry a man.
Should I be ashamed of myself? Yes, definitely.
But there is no time for shame, not when he won’t give me time to think. I trust him with my body. I also know his warning about feelings and I know I can handle it. I have to. I have a plan. It’s the only thing that will make this arrangement work for me.
My eyes are covered and my body is bare—except the rope tied around my wrists. He lifts me and drops me on the bed, face down. I feel the cool air from the ceiling fan blow across my back. Then my hands are pulled up above my head and I feel a tug. I hear ropes being tied.
He isn’t touching me, not like I want him to, but he is tying me up. I secretly wish I was suspended and—
My ankles are whisked apart, and I feel the prickle of the rope wrapping around them as I am spread wide.
“You look amazing, Melyssa,” Sabato says. “Your ass is beautiful, perfect, actually. I want to do things to it, things I know you’ll love. But I am not going to push you too hard today.”
“Mmkay,” I whisper. I swear I hear a chuckle in his throat.
I want to scream, ‘Do it! Push me!’ But I don’t know exactly what that means.
Whack! I jump at the sound and the sting.
Whack, whack, whack, whack, he spanks me and then I feel his hands kneading my butt, both of his hands. He pushes up and my back arches under the pressure and then back down. My crotch rubs against the bedding and I am quivering. Whack, whack, whack, whack. I feel my ass rise up of its own accord, accepting each blow. Then his hands, I know they are coming and I meet them by arching my back. When his hands don’t touch me again, I am confused.
Whack, whack, whack, whack, and then cool air blowing across my skin. My butt rises up again, when I feel the air directly between my legs. No touch.
Gawwww!
Stupid butt. I’m catching on now. Butt up, means no touch. I ready myself by gripping the ropes and curling my toes tight.
Whack, whack, whack, whack. It hurts a little more this time.
I wince. His hands are on my ass then, rubbing up and down, up and down. Squeezing, kneading, ooooohhh, kissing. My ass lifts in the air in response and his hands grip my hips and push them down to the mattress. Then I get teeth.
“Ouch,” and a hand smack. Whack! “Mmm.”
“Siete impossible.” He groans.
I don’t say anything then and he doesn’t do anything. I wiggle my butt a little, hoping for a reaction or some more action.
I hear a rip, a groan, then the bed buckles and his arm is under my waist, pulling me up.
“Knees.” The rope loosens and I am plopped down on them.
His hands grab my cheeks, he spreads, he squeezes and I feel something between my legs. His mouth.
“Oh god,” I cry out, as he sucks on my lips.
He squeezes my ass and I know he wants me to be quiet, but...how?
His tongue circles my clit.
“Oh god, I’m gonna—”
He smacks my ass, squeezes my cheeks and sucks.
“Aaahhhh,” I cry. He grumbles something, but doesn’t stop, doesn’t spank, doesn’t— “Stop! Oh god, stop!” I cry out, as my knees shake and he pushes my hips up. “No, don’t. Don’t stop! Don’t!”
He pulls me back down hard on his face. I am not thinking. I
am feeling, feeling…I am feeling. Lightning.
“Oh...no....” He pulls me tighter, sucks, nips and I am shaking. He pushes a finger inside me, and I can no longer hold back. I fall apart then, and it is beautiful. My butt raises and I hear the sound of plastic ripping.
One hand is on my hip, and I feel him rub against me.
“Please, not like this.”
“Melyssa,” he hisses my name.
“I just, I want to see you.” I realize I am begging, but he pulls the blindfold off, appeasing me. I crawl forward and roll onto my back. “Like this.”
He looks at me, then his jaw tenses and he shakes his head.
“This isn’t how I—”
“Please, just this,” I stop talking when he is over me. Eyes angry, breaths rapid, he pulls my leg up with one hand, bracing himself with the other beside my shoulder.
“No more demands,” he says. In his eyes, there is something different.
I nod and he slams fully into to me. I cry out and he stops. I open my eyes to see that his are blazing. I pull my hips back, trying to alleviate the pressure, just a little.
His jaw is clenched, nostrils flared.
“Damn it,” he growls.
I push against him and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Open your fucking eyes, Melyssa.”
I open them and when I look up at him I can’t hide the pain. He looks concerned, as he slowly pushes into me again, then stills and rotates his hips. I let out a breath and he pulls out, slowly. In and out, he pushes further each time and I can feel myself beginning to relax. He drops my leg to his side, grips my hips and pulls me close as he leans back, never breaking the connection.
He gyrates his hips and bends down, kissing me as he pushes further in.
He pulls me to him more tightly and suddenly I am not touching the bed. I am suspended. After a moment, my shoulders ache. I look down, as his thumb begins to rub my clit and I feel it again. The warmth, the heat, and then the burn. He isn’t looking at me, he is watching us. His pace speeds and he pushes in further. The bed creaks and he looks up and into my eyes.
Concern and then it’s gone, as he leans forward, allowing my back to touch the mattress again. I let out a sound that concerns him.
He quickly reaches up, unties the ropes and pulls me up, bringing me down on him fully. I cry out and my arms are lowered over his head, slowly. I moan, because it feels good to have my arms in a different position. He looks into my eyes as he moves me up and down on his hard cock.
I tremble and cry out. I lean in, seeking his mouth as I come. He pushes his forehead against mine, keeping me at a distance as his thrusts hasten and I swear he grows thicker. His teeth bare and he growls as he twitches inside me, still looking into my eyes.
I lean against his shoulder and he cradles my ass as he leans forward, depositing me on the bed. He is still inside me when he ducks his head out from under my hands. He covers me with all his weight. His body is so hard, everywhere. He unties my wrists and I try to touch him. He takes my hand, quickly stopping it. He bends down, kisses it and pulls out of me.
“Rest.” He gets off the bed quickly and unties my ankles. “Stay there and rest.”
He walks out the door and his ass flexes with each movement, until I can’t see its perfection anymore. I roll onto my side, pull a pillow down into a hug and hold it tight. I shudder and try not to think, just to feel.
My body is coming down from the most unbelievable high.
*.*.*
I wake up feeling a bit disoriented and sore. Very, very sore. My shoulder, my wrists and everything between my legs.
I roll to my back and look at my wrists. They’re red and I can imagine I’m a little red ‘down there,’ too. I force myself to sit up and even my bottom is sore.
I hear Sabato talking in the other room and immediately I am concerned. I jump up and grab the shirt I was wearing and throw it on. I can’t find my panties, so I grab his shorts.
When I walk out, he is on the phone, a phone!
I stop before he notices me and I hear him speaking in Italian. The only word I understand is, Valentina.
I try not to think, to focus on how I feel. I feel stupid. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel angry.
I walk past him, shove my feet in my shoes and head to the door.
“Melyssa,” he snaps. “Melyssa, where are you going?”
I lift my hand up, give him the finger and then I am gone.
I walk fast down the path, holding onto the shorts that are falling down.
I am not stupid, I am not.
I hear footsteps and I am assuming they are him, so I speed up. I need to think and he had damn well better allow me the time to do it.
Sabato’s hand grabs my elbow, but I yank it away and turn to face him. I put my hands on my hips and the shorts start slipping. I grab them to stop them.
I scowl at him, he scowls back.
“You need to come back to the cabin. Now,” he says, between clenched teeth.
“No.”
“So help me god, Melyssa, you are making a scene.”
“You’re the one chasing after me, buddy. Go back and talk to your lover and leave me the hell alone.”
He shakes his head, rolls his eyes and grabs my wrist. I wince and he lets go. When he looks down, I expect to see concern or regret but no. His lips curves a bit and then, back to emotionless.
“Walk, or I will carry you.”
“I’m walking.” I turn back around in a huff, grabbing the shorts that are once again falling off—although half of me would love to bare my ass to him right now. But, I’m sure it’s red too and the asshole would find that just as amusing.
He is at my side as I walk. “You’re not seriously going to go around...in public...like that.”
“Screw you, I’m taking a walk. You’re the one causing a scene Mr. Shirtless.”
“I apologize for not putting on the proper clothing,” he growls. “However, I had to catch a fucking wild animal.”
“Sorry to interrupt your little phone date. Won’t happen again. Maybe you should marry her, while you’re at it.” I pause, when it strikes me. “Oh, that’s right! Valentina can’t give you a green card, now can she? How stupid am I?”
“You’re fucking ridiculous, is what you are,” he snaps in a whisper. “You were told not to feel anything but pleasure, Melyssa, and you’re fucking that up within an hour.”
“Pleasure? I woke up sore and honestly,” I trip on a rock and he catches me by the elbow. Once I regain my footing, I quickly pull away. He grabs the shorts I had completely forgot about in that moment, which are now about plumber height.
“Your hair is fucking crazy, your shirt is inside out and your ass has been half bared a couple of times already. There are people watching us, Melyssa. Come with me now, or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you. Though, to be honest, my fucking leg is sore and I would prefer to save my energy and take this out on you later, while you are tied up.”
The leg injury gets to me and I’m not gonna pretend it doesn’t. “Fine.”
“Good.”
“Don’t mock me,” I warn him.
He reaches over, grabs my hand, pulls me against his side and rasps in my ear, “Mmkay.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
“Mmkay.” He smirks.
“Don’t—”
“Mmkay.”
“I’m serious, Sabato!”
“Mmkay.”
I smack him in the stomach and he chuckles. I want to smile, but I won’t.
Because I keep reminding myself. “If you feel the need to have Valentina come up here, just warn me and I’ll—”
“She won’t. She is doing me a favor.”
“I bet she is,” I retort.
“I am concerned about getting an infection in my leg. Tomorrow, when we are back in New York, she is going to get some medication to you. Today, she is calling the doctor and pretending she is you, to say that she lost the prescription an
d she needs it refilled. We’ll both then have something we need.”
“Well, I’m sure that makes her happy.”
“Melyssa, for the last time, sex is sex. You and I know this, correct? Monogamy is part of our agreement, only because it is not in your...public character...to have an open marriage.”
I nod, because in fact we did have that agreement. But now, after doing ‘it,’ I felt differently about things than I know I should. I am sure I will get over it soon, just not right after.
Not this soon.
“Good.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “She is also helping me try to pull off a little get together and contact a justice of the peace for tomorrow. She even offered to get you a dress.”
“I will get my own dress, thanks.” I try not to sound bitchy, but I know I do.
“It’s already taken care of.” I snap my head around and look at him. “I mean, I already took care of it. I understand that you’re concerned that it will come out and mess up this interview that may occur. We both have the same goal here. This will be beneficial to you, Melyssa. When we get back inside, I will explain more.”
I feel my stomach knot and have to remind myself that his intent is not to feel, or even to protect my feelings, but to make this arrangement work. I also have to remind myself that I am trying to help him and those are the only feelings I can allow to enter into this. I just have to find a way to not confuse the feelings I’m having with the feelings I am not allowed to be having.
Back inside, he immediately lets go of my hand and I feel the distance growing between us.
“Let’s continue our ‘business’ chat.” He pulls out the chair at the little table and I sit. He moves the chair to the other side, away from mine and pushes the folder across to me.
“As I said, I own several clubs in Italy, which are being—”
“Like the one here? Steelettos?”
“Much nicer, but yes. They all went up for sale when Salvatore and Benito were arrested. All but one of them sold within hours.” He seems proud. “The last has not sold.”
He pauses and I feel like he is waiting for me to say something.
“You must be...happy?”
