by RoxAnne Fox
Ricki’s words had my ex-husband’s chiseled features crossing my mind. Quickly I pushed his handsome, hate inducing, face away.
Taking the necklace out, I handed it to Ricki then lifted my hair so he could clasp it around my neck. “You’re wrong there. Walter would shower any woman he had with all his money and attention.” Letting my hair fall back in place I turned to face my friend. “He probably just wishes I would be that woman forever. Men who make demands have the looks to back up the dick head attitude.”
Ricki laughed and planted a kiss on my cheek. He knew the stories of how cruel my ex was, and how handsome I thought him to be, even if he had never seen the man himself for reference considering there was not a single photograph of him in my new home.
“If any man now treated you that way he would be a sorry sight after I was done with him, even if he was as hot as Robert Pattinson.”
“Bleck! Not hot enough.” I wasn’t as fond of the Twilight star as my bestie.
Ricki laughed along with me before he let out a small cat call. “Yowza, how about that hunk of meat?”
Still giggling I turned to see a client on the monitor approaching the front door and my laugh stopped short, choking in my throat.
“Now I bet that is a man who knows exactly what he looks like and makes sure every woman, or man, he is with knows it too.”
Ricki’s words were barely heard over the pounding of my own heart. The man was handsome, very much so, and the expensive tailored suit he wore, as well as the Mercedes he was walking away from, said he made big money. I didn’t need to have those cues to know how much he made though, I knew precisely what he was banking, because the man who would be my next client—since I was the only day girl—was my ex-husband, Eric.
Chapter 3
Unaware of who he spoke to Ricki was as gracious as ever to Eric, whom apparently was a former client of the previous day girl Rachel, aka Savannah. Clients didn’t know me as Lynette either, I was strictly Mistress. Eric was getting the run down on me as I watched from my room. Just like the desk clerk had video surveillance of the outside of the building and in each of the girls’ rooms for security, the seven of us girls had video feed to our rooms showing the lobby. That way we could see potential clients and if we didn’t like the looks of them, we said so with a call to the desk and the client was offered someone else or turned away.
I hadn’t called Ricki yet.
Instead, I watched a man I despised hear about my rules, requirements, and the precautions of working with me, as well as view pictures of my nude and semi-nude body. Clients wanted the fantasy of knowing what the body of the girl looked like that would be using them, even if they were not allowed to see the face. They were expected, though, to have an understanding of what the woman may do once in their chamber.
Ricki was always careful in explaining my rules since I was a little harsher than most of the other girls. The extreme treatment of my slaves was why days were easy to move to; after a year on nights I had a built a particular client base that didn’t mind switching for me. The fact my ex was a previous day client and willing to change girls said he was a day-time walk in; not unheard of but very rare and not something I had seen since switching to days almost nine months ago.
“Is this really necessary for this chick?” There was something in Eric’s voice, a hesitation maybe.
Ricki rolled his eyes. “Yes. Look, maybe you should come back after five when there is a selection. You can even see Savannah again if you would like.”
Dueling emotions took over in me. Part of me wanted him to say, “fuck it” and come back another time but another part of me wanted a chance to enact a new kind of revenge on the prick.
“Okay, fine.” Eric shook his head and signed the waivers as Ricki pulled out a new blindfold.
It was as though I watched Eric finish signing and remove his suit jacket and tie, items he didn’t want destroyed, in slow motion on the monitor.
“He signed it.” The empty room ate my words as the intercom crackled to life.
“My sweet Mistress, are you ready to entertain a new slave.”
The words were hollow in my ears when normally they were sweet, coating me like a lust inducing honey.
“Mistress?”
Snapping out of my stupor I cleared my throat and pressed the button. “Yes dear, give me a moment to prepare the chamber while you prepare my new offering.”
Eric made some noise behind my friend and I had a feeling Rachel and the former morning attendant weren’t as theatrical as Ricki and I preferred to be. Well, whatever he was thinking it didn’t matter now because as the hollow sensation in me began to fade a new one of excitement and anticipation replaced it. In mere moments I would have that cowering fuck in my domain and at my will. He was about to be my slave.
“Thank you Rickard,” my pet name for Ricki when clients were around, “that will be fine.”
I motioned him to place Eric in the restraints on my floor to ceiling poles. He nodded to me and brought the man’s arms above his head—not to high to hurt him but enough to keep him in one place—and spread his hands apart so as to shackle his wrists to the movable bar I had hooked on the poles. His feet too were shackled at the bottom, but not to a bar. Upon restraining, Eric decided he wanted his slacks removed as well. Ricki did so, then restrained his ankles once more before leaving; taking the pants with him and fanning himself dramatically while mouthing, “oh my god.”
Oh my god indeed, I thought as I walked around him; spread like an offering on the padded surface set higher than the ground surrounding it. Relishing the sight of his lean tan form, lightly haired in all the right places, obscured by only white briefs, a button down, and the blindfold, I made sure my heals clacked with each step on the harder surface as I took him in. He looked almost angelic amongst the mainly black and red motif of my chamber. Stopping in front of him I gathered the first button of his shirt in my hands.
“I really should have had Rickard remove all your clothing except the ball-strangling excuse for undergarments you wear.” There was a moment I worried he may recognize even a fake voice from me, but I stuck to what I had been doing for so long and stayed on script.
He pulled back as far as the restraints would let him. “What?”
The strike was so swift I almost hadn’t expected it. There was no thought in the action of who it was in that moment. As soon as he opened his mouth all that mattered was my slave spoke out of turn. All worry in me vanished and I knew I was the Mistress and he was nothing but a slave.
Grabbing him by the collar I pulled it tight against his adam’s apple. “I know you had to have understood the paper you signed and it very clearly said that you are not to speak unless I ask you a direct question, and that is only with ‘yes Mistress’ or ‘no Mistress’ except when I state otherwise. Will we have another problem?” The words came out bitten off and mean; as they should have, since I spoke them through gritted teeth.
“No Mistress.” Eric’s voice was weak and I had to wonder if it was from the force I was putting at his throat or something else.
Loosening my hold I went back to the buttons. “Just so you know your place, this session will not be as easy as they normally are for a new slave.”
“Yes Mistress.” This time when he spoke the edge in his voice sent small tingles of electricity down my skin.
His tone, his posture—taught and ready for what was to come—all spoke of the same thing; he was mine.
“Now,” I said just a breath above a whisper before ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying.
Eric responded with a small gasp.
“Why don’t we really begin?”
Grabbing a pair of shears from off the nearby cart I proceeded to cut away the rest of Eric’s shirt. The need to protest was obvious in the way his lips formed a grimace and how each snip pulled a small noise from him. Those cuts were slow too, precise, teasing at the fact I was ruining a shirt which I had no doubt cost more than a sim
ple button down should. As it fell to the floor I saw the tag—black with white letters spelling, GUCCI—and knew I was right.
“Awe, I hope that shirt wasn’t special. Don’t worry you’ll be compensated.”
My patronizing tone twitched at his lip and I knew, just knew he wanted to comment; and that, of course, was why I was saying what I was—doing what I was. I knew Eric better than anyone and knew how to get at him, push him to break the rules I set in place, and the best part was, he had no idea it was me.
Merely thinking about the added layer of deception to what I was doing started that low burn in me and I had to hold back a groan. Breathing deep I pushed aside the blooming desire to focus on the job at hand. Bringing the scissors to the collar of his undershirt I snipped the tip at the neck and the shoulders before setting them aside. Grabbing the sides of the neck in my hands I tore the fabric apart and let it join it’s destroyed brethren on the floor.
The swift motion must have startled Eric because he let out a short gasp then snapped his mouth shut.
It was almost unfortunate he couldn’t see the devilish smile which graced my lips. “Is there something you need to say slave?”
Eric’s swallow was audible. “N-no, mistress.”
Taking the leather paddle from the cart I rubbed it across his cheek. “Mmm, good,” I said before smacking the smooth pampered skin there.
The noise that left him could only be described as a yelp of pained shock.
“Something you need to say now?”
Eric didn’t respond in words. Instead, he thrashed his head back and forth indicating a “no.”
Letting the paddle trail down his throat to his chest I teased his nipples with the rough sewn edge, getting them hard, before smacking each one. The sculpted flesh turned red as each slap struck with more force. After delivering a volley of blows to both nipples, leaving them scarlet and sore, I ran the edge of the paddle down again; across the plains of his stomach to his bulge which hid behind white cotton fabric. A dick much larger than what Walter had, hell it was larger than what most men I had from what I had seen, which made what he did to me when we were married so much worse.
Remembering how and why I was connected to the man in front of me I pressed the side of the paddle into his most sensitive area, pushing a small whimper out of him in the process. The sound sent more electric caresses down my skin so I pushed deeper, almost to the point where I thought it might hurt. When I saw him bite his lip, probably preparing for a beating on his cock, I pulled the paddle away to reach around and strike him as hard as I could on the ass.
This time Eric’s cry was much louder, sweeter; like a candy for my ears. Walking around him again I fingered along the edge of his briefs; dipping my fingers in to tease his pubic hair line before thumbing the hallow at his hip and scratching around his side and lower back, stopping just above the crack in his ass.
“I want you to tell me something slave.” The whisper was low, near his right ear.
“Yes Mistress.” His voice held a tantalizing hint of fear.
“Why are you here?”
While I waited for a reply the paddle hung loosely from my right hand as I massaged one of his ass cheeks. My left was busy scoring a line of red from shoulder to shoulder but when no reply came, or at least not one I felt was fast enough, I braced it there to strike his rear again with the paddle. The blow was much harder, being that I had better leverage, and shifted him forward. His hips snapped back in place and I had to wonder if he had been paddled before.
“Answer me dog.” The last word was punctuated by another crack of the paddle.
Eric let out a small choked noise before replying. “I don’t…I don’t know Mistress.”
“Wrong.”
Wrenching his underwear below his butt, exposing the already crimson cheeks, I hit each one with enough force to leave multiple welts. When I was finished I put the band back in place and lightly massaged the sore flesh through the fabric. The damage skin below would make the cotton, no matter how expensive, feel like sandpaper against it and the light sobs coming from him told me that the sensation was close to that.
The part in me that was doing this for spite was rolling, giddy with each cry, and hungry to see the soaked through blindfold showing me the tears of pain it so desperately craved. Taking my time, I walked back to the front of him; running my nails along his skin and keeping my eyes up, ready to delight.
“Oh, poor, poor baby. Did I punish you too hard? I guess you should have answered the question correctly. If you lie again, and trust me ‘I don’t know’ is a lie, I’ll have no choice but to take drastic measures.”
Stopping in front I licked my lips, loving the dampened cloth at his face, and continued. “Unless, of course, that is…you say the safe word. All this could be over with one small word.” Leaning in closer as I spoke I ended at his ear and began whispering the word to him, his own; diamond.
“No Mistress!” There was a desperation in his voice, something I hadn’t expected.
Curious, I stepped back and saw his chiseled body glistening with a light layer of sweat, his chest heaving with each breath, not unusual or unexpected. What I hadn’t expected, what I could never dream of seeing from a man I thought I knew so well, was the massive erection pressing at the white fabric which strained to keep it in.
A small gasp of surprise escaped me but the fact I even gasp surprised me more and brought my hand to my mouth as though to hide it. Remembering my role, and that Ricki could be watching, I composed myself and hoped he wouldn’t ask about it.
“Well slave, out with it.” The demand was as harsh as I could make it as I grabbed his stiff beast through its clothed prison.
As soon as I touched his cock my body wanted it—to stroke it, suck it, be fucked by it in each hole—and I fought to remember why I should abhor such acts. Fucking with it was part of the job, fucking it in any way was my choice, and I shouldn’t make that choice.
“I,” Eric began. “I need to come here,” he finally said.
Giving his cock a squeeze I asked, “Now why would that be?”
There seemed to be some hesitation in him as he swallowed and didn’t reply immediately. My hand went to the softer bit of flesh below his dick and cupped the tender balls. The slight intake of breath from Eric hinted at a building fear but the fact his cock danced at my touch spoke of something else.
“I don’t know how to get off without it.” The words were fast, as though he wanted to rip the emotional band-aid off at once and expose the raw truth to be done with it.
Instead of mangling or mashing the tender sack I massaged it as though I was his lover readying him for my mouth. The tension in him eased, but his cock remained hard and ready. The urge to pull it from the undergarment that held it, keeping it in what had to be an uncomfortable angle, and lapping at it like a greedy whore pulsed through me, making my mouth water.
Not giving in to my desire I focused on Eric and what I wanted to know. “Tell me slave, did Savannah do this for you? I know she has used domination, but it is not her specialty.”
“Yes Mistress.” His response was quick, showing no weakness or fear. “She was not as.” Eric paused seeming to struggle with the right words. “As skilled,” he finally said, “as you are though.”
“I’ll take that as a high compliment.” My words were purred in his ear as I dared to release his cock and stroke it, running my thumb across the tip. “And when Savannah would be doing the less skillful domination play did you ever give her a reason as to why you were there?”
My toying with his dick showed in his breathless reply. “She never asked.”
“But I ask.” Both my hands were on the monster now, one at his balls squeezing and one on the shaft. “What I want to know now is why you have to be abused, dominated by a woman to get off. What is at the core?”
His throat moved and his body tensed. In that moment I knew the answer wasn’t going to come so easy; it was time for a little more persua
sion.
“I sense some hesitation in you so I want to make it perfectly clear how far I can push you if you don’t wish to answer.” Letting go of his junk I stepped back and reached for the cart, grabbing the shears once more. “I’ve been known to push my slaves to the edge, some too far, and I have had clients cancel their contracts with me in the process.”
Eric jumped at the feel of the cool metal against the edge of his underwear, but still didn’t say a word. Opening the scissors I began to cut away the fabric bit by bit as I spoke.
“In order to continue as my slave you have to learn compliance.” His right ass cheek was exposed, the welts showing a hint at fading, but that would soon change. “If you don’t want to comply willingly it will be forced into you.”
His briefs were no more and the shears were back in their place. Eric still hadn’t spoken a word. Unhooking the bar his hands were clasped to I pulled him forward to bend at the waist so his hands were on the floor with his legs still spread and hooked to the lower rings.
“Down on your knees slave.”
Eric dropped to the padded surface without a word and I had to wonder if he knew what was coming. After attaching the bar at his hands to the floor hooks I used the straps at either side to lash his calves down. Going back to the cart I gathered my harness and sat on my lounge to strap it on.
“You have a moment to think now and decide if I need to go further with you in your instruction as my slave, or if you are going to willingly answer me. You know at anytime you can forfeit and use your safe word. This is all in your hands slave.”
As I finished, I grabbed the rubber cock and wondered if Savannah had gone to such extremes with him. This wouldn’t be the first time for me, man or woman. Screwing women with it was for fun but screwing men was more. It was a convenient tool used to break those who thought they were too strong. I was well within my right to use it; if a slave didn’t do as they were told in my chamber I was privy to do as I wished, short of permanent bodily harm or death, to teach them what they needed to know.
