by Zoey Parker
Something hot and angry formed in my chest at the thought of her with someone else.
Not a good sign.
“I can’t do this with her,” I muttered to the ceiling.
Because if this was all about sex or money, I wouldn’t have been concerned, but at some point last night, possibly while I was buried deep inside of her, I realized the truth. It wasn’t just about either of those things. It was about something more desperate, more primal. I had needed things and unexpectedly found them in her.
Which was dangerous, because I could feel myself becoming attached. I wanted to keep her for myself, not send her back out into the world wiser and more experienced. I wanted to make her my submissive, to have her wear the clothes I picked out for her and to have her make my breakfast and to make sure she didn’t cut herself as she shaved her perfect pink pussy. I wanted her in bed, my hardened cock was proof enough of that, but I wanted her in my life, too.
“I can’t fall in love with her.”
And with those words spoken out loud, I realized my true worry: That I already was falling in love with her.
Beautiful.
Submissive.
Smart.
Sexy.
Allison.
How easy it would be to put her on a leash and keep her here all to myself. Just like I had with Sandra. And that thought was why it couldn’t happen.
Sandra had been my submissive. For five years, we’d lived together. I was her Dom, someone to take care of her, and she loved that. She wanted nothing more than to relinquish everything to me. She didn’t want to make choices or have to approach those big things in her life alone. I gave her safety and security.
Until the day I didn’t.
I fell in love with Sandra, fell harder than I’d ever fallen for anyone. And all I ever wanted was to do right by her. But we were a Dom/sub pair. That meant I had control over her and it meant that she had to be obedient. And sometimes she wasn’t, which meant I had to punish her.
Sandra, I found, liked the punishment even more than she liked the pleasure. Toward the last year of our relationship, I found that she was deliberately disobeying me more and more just so that I’d have to punish her.
Some of it was as simple as spanking her, just as I’d done with Allison yesterday, but some of it was more. She wanted to be caned, to be flogged. She liked the whipping and the spanking. It got to the point where she wanted more of that than the sex and the soft touches and the cuddling.
To me, that wasn’t what punishment was about. Punishment was about changing a behavior, something bad in return for something done wrong. But for Sandra, it grew to be something else.
And that got dangerous. Suddenly, the lines between pain and pleasure were so blurred for her that I didn’t know where to stop. And I loved her so damn much that I would do anything to make her happy. Even if it meant hurting her.
Except that one day I went too far.
I hurt her badly enough that she had to go to the hospital. The doctor checked her out and she recovered fine, but there was always something between us after that. She wanted punishment, but was scared of the pain now. And I wanted to make her happy, but couldn’t trust my own control anymore.
I was the one that ended it. I couldn’t go on hurting her anymore and I didn’t know how to change that for her.
We haven’t spoken since, though she’s called a handful of times.
“Allison isn’t like that, though,” I murmured. But then I remembered how she’d enjoyed the spanking the night before. It had been light, but would that enjoyment only grow? It was impossible to say. Not everyone was Sandra, but anyone could be.
And that terrified me.
My chest aching, I pulled back the covers and got out of bed. I washed quickly, then got dressed, all the while knowing what I had to do. It wasn’t something I wanted, but it was my only option. I couldn’t risk what I might one day do to Allison. I couldn’t risk that she would want it – or that she wouldn’t.
“I have to end it.”
I caught the smell of breakfast just as I pulled my shirt on. Turning, I caught sight of Allison. Her womanly curves were on display, her hips swaying, her breasts bouncing. In her hands, she had a tray with a plate, silverware, and both coffee and juice on it.
“I wasn’t sure what you would like, sir, so I tried to go with something healthy. An egg white omelet, the turkey bacon I found in the fridge, a bowl of fresh fruit with powdered sugar on top, and some whole-wheat toast. I brought both orange juice and coffee, since I wasn’t quite sure which you’d prefer in the morning. And I brought some creamer, too, because I didn’t know if you liked it black.” Her big doe eyes looked up at me bashfully. “There’s so much I don’t know yet.”
Staring at the breakfast that she’d taken the time to think over and make for me, I almost couldn’t do it. I wanted to keep her and she was such a natural at this… But I couldn’t.
“Allison, thank you,” I began, taking the tray from her. She seemed a little surprised, maybe catching the tone of my voice. I placed the tray on the dresser, then turned back to her. Her body called to me, but I did my best to resist and stick to my guns. “I’ll pay you for your virginity. That was the agreement and I took that.”
Her normally flushed cheeks paled, the corners of her mouth dropping down. She had definitely picked up on my words and tone by now. “Sir—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t interrupt,” I ordered her and she fell silent, her face dropping so that she stared at the floor. “I’ll transfer the other quarter of a million, as one million was the original price for your virginity. But that’s all I can do. The rest of the weekend can’t happen; I won’t risk it.”
She was silent for a long time, then asked timidly, “Sir, may I speak?”
Only because she asked politely, I nodded and allowed her to speak her peace.
She pulled her head up and the look on her face broke my heart. She looked devastated. As though my words had truly and honestly just wrecked her world. I would give her the rest of the money and then some just to take that pathetic, heartbroken look off her face.
I told myself that was all it was. It was just because of the money, but I didn’t entirely believe it. In 24 hours, she had become the woman that was all but built specifically for me. Wasn’t it possible that she felt the same toward me?
Don’t be a fool, I thought. She needs the money for her sister. So much more than I ever thought. It’s all the more reason to leave her be. To not take advantage of her. How can I show someone so innocent my darkness?
“You said that I had the power. I want to continue.”
Chapter Thirteen
Allison
I needed the money. Yes, if he paid me the million as promised, I’d have enough to cover the costs of the surgery and both pre- and post-op. I’d have enough for the medication and the doctor’s visits, everything involved with my sister’s heart transplant would be covered.
But what about the days before that? I was so far in debt that money lenders felt sorry for me. I had years of debt from the hospital to pay back and that didn’t even break into the back rent I owed on my little piece-of-shit of an apartment.
What was the point of saving my sister’s life just to leave her starving and homeless?
I needed that extra half a million dollars and this was my one and only opportunity to get it. Otherwise, I’d spend the rest of my days at that diner trying to play catchup on a messed-up life that wasn’t even my fault.
Or worse. I’d have to do this again. Only it wouldn’t be with Jules and it wouldn’t pay as well. I hadn’t even considered it until this moment, but I understood how women fell into prostitution. What did you do when you were uneducated, young, and buried beneath insurmountable debt? You sold the only asset you had. Your body.
And now I knew how easy it could be. Sell a little sex and earn the money three or four times as fast as I would at the diner. Probably more than that.
The tho
ught made me shudder.
I didn’t want to do that. Yes, I’d really enjoyed sex with Jules last night. So much that, despite my body’s soreness, I found myself craving a repeat performance. But that didn’t mean I wanted it with everyone. I wanted more sex with Jules, not just some Joe Blow. I didn’t want to think about the dangers of it. How they could be cruel or abusive, or maybe sick or have STDs. God, any number of things could happen to me…
Or I could spend the weekend with Jules and earn that money to get me back on my feet. I can’t let him send me home now.
So I tried my absolute hardest to get him to let me stay. I didn’t want to beg, but I would if I had to. I’d say anything – I’d do anything to follow through with this weekend. “You said that I had the power. I want to continue.”
His expression shifted to one of surprise. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead and his blue eyes widened slightly. Those full lips parted slightly, as though to ask me what the hell I thought I was doing. Because it was clear that no one had ever stood where I was standing now and told him no. No one had told him, “I’m not going to just do as you tell me to.”
And that was likely the truth, given his… sexual preferences. It was pretty clear to me that he didn’t his women talking back and for a long moment I thought I’d messed up. He wanted a submissive, not someone who was going to question his orders. But I also figured that he was sending me home anyway; what did I have to lose?
“You want to stay?” he asked in a low, deep voice that sounded like it belonged to a predator stalking its prey. Silky, but dangerous.
I swallowed. No backing out now. “Yes, sir, I do.”
He considered me a moment, his bright eyes raking over my naked body. I shivered beneath his gaze, but did my best to stand still and tall. I refused to let him scare me away. I needed this too badly.
“Alright. Then come with me.” He offered out his large hand, the smooth features of his face mimicking calm, but hinting at something restless beneath.
I swallowed, then accepted his hand.
Jules led me out of the room. I expected that he might take me to my room and tell me to get my things or maybe back to the library to spank me again. The thought sent a little thrill through me. I didn’t necessarily want more than those little pats against my rear, but I acknowledged that I’d gotten something unexpected from it.
But Jules took me down the stairs instead, leading me into the long hallway with the mirror lining it. We passed the door that led to his man cave and the one that went to the kitchen. I was wondering where he was leading me until he finally stopped.
In front of the red door.
He spared me a glance before pulling out a key from his pocket. It fit perfectly in the lock. He twisted the knob and pushed open the door. Turning to me, he said, “Let me show you exactly what you’re asking for.”
He stepped inside and I followed. It was only dimly lit, so for a second I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. But slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was another bed, just as large as the one from upstairs. It was stripped down to just a silk black fitted sheet that covered the mattress. There weren’t any covers or pillows or any frills at all. Along the edges of the mattress were lit candles. They looked like they’d been burning for a long while, so I doubted he’d snuck down to light them just for this moment. Wax spilled down their sides, coating the plain, dark wood tables surrounding the bed.
The floor of the room was a polished marble, so smooth and perfect that I could just barely see my own reflection in the surface. The walls were lined with what looked to be black drapes, though they might have been just a really dark color.
Although the room was… odd, it didn’t really freak me out. Not until I spotted something shiny hanging above the bed. It was attached to the ceiling by a chain. A pair of thick, leather straps that looked like… cuffs.
I finally turned to look at Jules.
“I told you what this place was,” he told me calmly. “But have you finally come to understand what it is?”
I was starting to. And I was starting to understand that he was showing me this to… to scare me off. But I won’t let it work, I promised myself.
Even though for the first time, I actually was a little scared.
“So you like candles and cuffs. I’m not worried. Sir.”
He raised a single eyebrow at me, then let his full mouth pull into a slow, languid smile. “People are pretty used to cuffs these days, aren’t they? Even the uninitiated.” He laughed a little. “So maybe I should show you the rest.” He stepped past me, heading toward the back wall.
I felt a prickle of fear along my spine, but did my best to shove it down. I reminded myself that Jules wanted to take care of me, not hurt me. And when I felt like maybe he and I had different definitions of “taking care of” I reminded myself that I needed the money.
Properly braced, I followed him to the wall.
His large hands gripped the heavy fabric of the drapes – they were blood red, not black – and jerked them open. At first, I couldn’t even tell what I was looking at. It was just a wall, but there were hooks and shelves lining it. The hooks had leather pieces hanging off of it. They mostly looked like… straps.
“What… is all this?”
“My toys,” he answered simply. “Toys that I use on my submissive – for my pleasure.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as I turned and looked at these items in a new light. They were straps… for me.
“Shall I explain them to you?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He started by picking up a long stick with a leather flap on the end. “A riding crop. This can be used in punishment – or during sex to increase both my pleasure and yours. Like a paddle, I might use it to spank you or even to tease your clit with the leather tip. I’ve also been known to choke my subs with the length. But they’ve never complained.”
He whispered the last part in my ear, sending a shiver through me that was equal parts fear and arousal. I couldn’t even say why.
Putting it up, he moved on to the next. It was a silver chain with what looked like two metal clothespins on either end that were covered with rubber tips. “These are nipple clamps.” My eyes widened. “First, I’d get your nipples hard, then I’d snap the clamps into place.” He opened them up, then let them snap closed. “The chain hangs between them and sometimes I like to tug on it or attach it to something.” He paused, then smiled at me wickedly. “Like a clitoral clamp.”
A clitoral clamp? I thought, flushing from the sheer dirtiness of it, but also from the potential pain. Wouldn’t that hurt?
He put up the chains, but not before letting his eyes drop to my chest. I was slightly horrified to see that my nipples were erect – almost as though they were volunteering for his toys already.
The next thing he grabbed looked like just a plain leather strap, but with a loop on either end. He put his large hands through either loop, then held it up straight in front of me. “This is a blow job strap. It’s simple, but effective. When I order you to swallow my cock, I put this around the back of your head. That way, your mouth stays close and I can control just how deep into your throat I go.”
My mind flashed to an image of that. Of me on my knees, mouth open, his hard, thick member pushing between my lips. Could his huge length even fit in my mouth? I tried to picture it and with the strap… I wouldn’t be able to pull back. He could force my head down on him and he could choke me with his manhood.
But he wouldn’t, a little voice in the back of my head whispered. He’d never go farther than I wanted.
I didn’t have time to linger on that, because he’d put the blow job strap back in place and had picked up a long metal bar. I frowned at it. Did I even want to know what this was?
“This is a spreader bar,” he informed me blithely. “As you can see, it has four cuffs on it. These two—” he pointed at the ones at the ends of the bar, “—are for your ankles. As you can guess, that means that your legs
will be forced apart and held there. And these—” he pointed to the inner cuffs, “—are for your wrists. They’ll force you to bend over. And then I can do whatever I want to you. I can have your pussy, your ass… I’ll go deeper than I went ever last night.”
This time I admitted it to myself: Amidst the fear of what these things might do, there was a very real, visceral promise of pleasure. My body could look past the helplessness – or maybe even enjoyed it – to the pleasure that came from it. But even while my body responded, my mind balked.
I couldn’t give up control like that… could I?
I don’t have much choice, remember? I need this.
So I lifted my chin, and tried to act unafraid.
His lips pursed together, almost like he didn’t appreciate my bravery. Maybe he didn’t. He seemed like he was trying to scare me. Maybe this was his way of trying to get me to leave on my own. But I wouldn’t.
