by SE Chardou
“When’s the last time you moved your bowels?” he inquired in a non-descript and neutral tone of voice.
“What?” she inquired as if he were speaking a foreign language. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Have you ever had anal intercourse?”
“No . . . yes . . . I mean, once but it was a long time ago.”
“Then I will repeat my question: when was the last time you had a bowel movement?”
“This morning . . . I get regular colon cleansings every couple of weeks at a clinic uptown since Grayson believes they are quite beneficial despite there being evidence to the contrary and it’s a green tea cleanse. Everything comes out. I don’t usually eat after the cleansings and the only food I have had was the fruit you fed me when I got here,” she explained in a voice so soft, he had to strain to hear her.
“Good, then I don’t have to use a condom back there if I didn’t want to but rest assure, I will. I am quite fastidious about these types of issues and I don’t like to ‘double dip’—so to speak—when I am bare-backing. I assume you are on some form of birth control?”
Aurélie breathed out as he continued his assault on her tight, puckered asshole with three of his fingers slid inside her to the hilt. “Yes, I am. I have . . . an IUD inserted.”
Rory slipped his fingers out of her ass and ran them up her back in a slow teasing manner. “I thought you had to have a child before you could use an intra-uterine device.”
“It used to be the case but not anymore. Besides, Grayson and I aren’t sure if we wanted kids so we decided to do the IUD for a few years and if it worked out, I would go ahead with a tubal ligation. However, our plans didn’t work out quite that way. We found out only recently he’s been firing blanks the whole time. He can’t have kids so . . . I planned to have it removed but I just haven’t gotten around to making an appointment yet.”
“Why can’t he have children?”
“We were merely told our body chemistries are highly incompatible and basically, my body is killing off his sperm before they can make it far enough to fertilize an egg even if I wasn’t on birth control. This is beginning to feel a bit like an interrogation. Do I have to undergo anymore embarrassing questions about my sex life with my fiancé?”
“No,” he said quietly, “I’m done.”
He slipped on a condom and applied more lube on the condom and at the opening of her anus.
Aurélie began to hyperventilate the moment she felt his cock at the crack of her ass. He thrust into her brutally, knowing she wouldn’t relax in time for him to make it inside anyway. He didn’t move as he allowed her body to become familiar with his size and length. Her hands were fisted in balls and she tried to hold up her head before she allowed it to sink down on the liberator ramp.
The whole point of this session was for her to derive absolutely no pleasure at all from his vicious assault on her body. Her pleasure would come later but this was about him and what he needed from her.
Rory was intentionally cruel as he ground his way into her and began to fuck her almost mechanically. He’d lubed her up good enough she wouldn’t tear but it didn’t make it anymore comfortable for her especially since she was a novice when it came to anal intercourse.
He thought about all the women he’d been with who absolutely loved to get their ass pounded and loved the feel of a fat cock in their asshole, much more than they preferred getting their pussy fucked but Aurélie obviously wasn’t as enthusiastic about the sex act as her sister.
Not yet at least.
No! There would never be a next time. Just this once and they would go their separate ways. He couldn’t afford to have this kind of intense relationship with another person so soon and yet again.
Rory pounded into her quicker and harsher as he felt the orgasm begin at the base of his balls and wind all the way up inside of him. He was going to come and unfortunately, it would be inside a condom this time but not the next. The next time he would use her without any barrier between the two of them and she would love it just as much as him.
And then he allowed himself to come and the orgasm flowed out of him with such force, he dug his hands into the soft yet firm flesh of her hips and collapsed on top of her body.
THEY SAT IN A DEEP ornate tub filled almost to the brim like long-time lovers.
Rory washed Aurélie with scented expensive soap and since she was no longer bound, she could have fought him if she wanted to but she didn’t.
The perfect submissive, he thought to himself before his brain screamed “No!”
She could never be his and he knew that without a doubt but why couldn’t he convince his fucking heart to just keep out of it? He shouldn’t have felt anything for her because he was grieving and basically transposing his feelings for Trésor onto her. She was a living, breathing human being and he wanted her with all the passion there was to want a woman but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe insta-love existed either.
It had taken him a full eighteen months to realize he felt anything other than a patronizing fondness for Trésor and her sister couldn’t possibly be any different. He used women . . . he used people and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon. He loved his life and all the different ways to explore pleasure in pain; the feeling of shaping someone else in his image of what he wanted them to be to satisfy his needs.
Rory wasn’t completely a monster. He’d made sure Trésor never wanted for anything and he allowed her to work because it satisfied her, not because she needed the cash. He vowed he would take care of her forever and he’d meant it. Her family would receive her body and she would be buried in France but he’d taken care of all the arrangements and merely called her parents to let them know.
Although she’d had a Will, her small net worth—barely five million dollars—would be wired to a bank account of her family’s choice but he’d left her with an additional fifteen million dollars should she decide to move on with her life and leave him.
As he sat in the tub with Aurélie, that money had already been wired into one Swiss and two Cayman Island accounts underneath her name. His attorney would call her the following week before she left for the funeral with all the information. Regardless what she thought of him, she would never have to whore herself out to any man ever again and if Grayson wasn’t what she wanted, she could leave him and still carry on with her career for as long she desired without a thought towards money.
“Why are you doing this to me? What is it about me that makes you want me so much?” she finally inquired, breaking his contemplation and the silence between the two of them.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” He held her close against his body and drew lazy circles around her areolas with his fingers.
Aurélie turned toward him though he only glimpsed her profile. “There is nothing about me you should want when you can have any woman out there. Surely it isn’t just this: a shell that vaguely reminds you of the person we both lost? If you need me to be my sister for a night then just say so.”
“Trésor has nothing to do with this!” Rory stood and stepped out of the bathtub. He grabbed a black terry cloth robe and wrapped it around his body before he stepped out of the bathroom.
His heart thundered in his chest and he realized he had revealed too much. He’d always valued his complexity and the ability to control his emotions. If no one knew what he was thinking then he always had the upper hand so how had this woman brought out a side of him no one should know anything about . . . ever?
Rory walked to the kitchen and immediately grabbed a bottle of Cristal chilling in his fridge. He fiddled with the plastic wrap and threw it on the island before he popped the cork and grabbed two fresh champagne flutes.
He poured a glass of champagne for himself and downed it in two swallows before refilling the glass.
“I’m sorry I said that to you. I shouldn’t have.”
He looked towards Aurélie’s direction and had to look away. She wore Trésor
’s robe and he couldn’t stand to see her in it. She walked into the kitchen and he poured champagne in her glass before he handed it to her.
She downed it quickly and set it on the island counter.
Rory gazed at her for a long time. He meant for his study of her to intimidate but he couldn’t focus on her face for long before his eyes wandered down to her lush body.
Trésor had been much thinner but Aurélie was womanly and beautiful. She was shorter than her sister—barely five-foot-three. Although his former lover’s lithe, exquisite body had been one of her best features, her sister’s voluptuous lines were tailor made for sin and temptation.
“Come with me,” he ordered and grabbed her hand before she had a chance to object.
He had finished off the champagne in his glass but grabbed the half-empty bottle and took it with them upstairs to his bedroom.
Some people might have found it ironic but although he and Trésor had been lovers, she’d never slept with him at night. They usually did their sexual activities either in the basement or her former bedroom, which resembled a sexual playhouse for deviants. However, after they were finished with what ever they did, he went back to his bedroom and she slept alone. She preferred it that way and he never pushed her as he secretly found it hard to rest when another person was in bed beside him.
Rory wasn’t stupid and knew it stemmed from a childhood where everyone had their place in the home and even his parents maintained separate bedrooms, for what reason he would never know. His parents were still sexually attracted to one another but for some reason, they never had sex in his mother’s bedroom but his father’s and then she would quietly steal away in the night.
He remembered seeing his mother creep back to her bedroom on various occasions, her negligee perfectly in place though her blonde hair was always slightly tousled. She’d always give him a gentle smile and order him back to bed. He would always comply and wonder what they did that his mother found so distasteful she didn’t want to share a room with his father.
He couldn’t hide his discomfort at the thought of someone sharing his bed but that night he would make an exception because some part of him wanted to finally break past that barrier. He needed to discover what was so awful if he did the unthinkable and allowed a woman into his private sanctum.
Rory swigged from the bottle of Cristal several times to calm his nerves before he opened the double doors to his bedroom.
The place he called his own was cold, neat and masculine. Lots of stark whiteness against a large California King poster bed with perfectly polished steel, ivory sheets and a matching duvet set with European pillows fluffed perfectly. He liked pale sheets because they were easy to clean and easy to spot dirt. He was fastidious with his hygiene and although they would only be used once, everything on his bed would go right into the laundry shoot the following morning.
The polished marble floor felt cold against his feet until he stepped on the large area Persian rug placed in close proximity to the bed. Aurélie looked around before she turned back to him.
“Are you never here at all? This place looks like a showcase at a museum, not a bedroom anyone actually uses.”
Rory smiled and offered her the champagne bottle which she took gratefully and sipped from delicately before she handed it back to him. “Of course I use this room. No one else does and I am a bit of a neat freak so if you’ll forgive all the perfection, just know you are free to mess it up at anytime.”
“Somehow, I think that will get me punished and I’m not ready to try that aspect of this lifestyle yet.”
Did she just say yet?
Perhaps he’d misunderstood what she meant but it mattered very little as there wouldn’t be a next time and besides, he didn’t want to bring that part of his life in that room. For the first time in what seemed like forever, all he wanted was to indulge in good old-fashioned vanilla sex. French vanilla in his case as there would be a bit of domination and submission but no toys, no games—just two young, healthy individuals who would enjoy carnal knowledge in all of its bold and exciting glory.
Something inside him wanted out and just seeing her in that robe made everything male and primal about him crazy. He set the bottle down on a glass art deco bedside table and strode toward her with precise movements. Before she could say anything, his left hand reached out and grabbed her by the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a hungry kiss.
Another first in a long time—he wasn’t big on kissing either; it was too intimate and could easily lose the balance of what was just physical pleasure and what went further.
Rory thrust his tongue in her mouth and she responded eagerly as she allowed him to control her movements. He undid her robe with his right hand and ran his hand from her collarbone to her pussy. She had a Brazilian wax, which didn’t hide much and he easily found the swollen nub between her legs. She had no idea what he’d done but she had learned her first lesson in orgasm denial.
He’d purposely fucked her in her ass earlier that evening knowing she wouldn’t get any pleasure out of the act because she wasn’t in the lifestyle. Had she been, it would have turned her on even more but she was pretty hot and wet now so he hadn’t done too bad of a job.
Her robe came off as she shrugged out of it and he pushed her onto the bed. “I want you flat on your back and do not move. Put your hands over your head and lace them together. No matter what I do, you are not to move your hands. If you do, I’ll be forced to put the handcuffs and blindfold on you, understand?”
She nodded her head vigorously as he slipped off his robe and let it slide to the floor. Her eyes fixated on his pulsating cock and although she tried to act coy, he knew she wondered how something like that had fit into her anus. He wasn’t John Holmes—the famous dead porn star—that was for sure but he had a healthy penis size of eight and a half inches when erect and girth along with his over-average cock.
He was hard at the moment, so very hard his scarlet cock curled against his belly and the mushroom head was a deep purple.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded and she did so with a wanton elegance only a French woman could have done.
Rory smiled before he spread her pussy lips with his fingers and circled her clit. She tensed under his touch and a soft moan escaped her mouth as she watched him with hooded-eyed interest.
He settled between her legs and began to dart his tongue inside her as she began to writhe under his fingers. He stopped playing with her clit and brought his hands underneath her buttocks. Her anus was still red and swollen from his rough treatment and he kissed it before he began to rim her with flourish.
She twisted underneath him uncomfortably, whether from pleasure or pain or perhaps both, it thrilled him to his very bones he could still bring this kind of response out in a woman.
Perhaps his manhood had taken a beating when he lost Trésor. If anything, she had made him a better lover and a better Dom because he still wanted to please his submissive. Yes, she wasn’t his equal but if she derived absolutely nothing out of the arrangement then a Dom could soon find himself alone. He’d seen it happen to many friends who went too far and didn’t realize although they thought they were controlling their subs, they were actually bottoming out to them.
When these very same submissives left them for other masters, they were heartbroken and became more sadistic due to the departure. Many of them took the culture to an extreme and he didn’t like to watch their handy work therefore he managed to keep himself to himself and indulge when it suited him.
Rory met Aurélie’s eyes and glared at her like a scolded child. “You’re not to come unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“What?” she asked out loud.
“You heard me perfectly.”
“But . . . how do I control something like that?” The look on her face and in her eyes, which were completely gray at the moment, was one of apprehension and confusion.
“It can be done. Just learn to control the impulses inside of you
. Believe me, I am only asking you not to come for a short time. I will let you come tonight, just not now.”
Rory began to tease her resolve by licking and sucking on her clit. Her breasts heaved up and down and he reached up with careful fingers and pinched her nipples hard.
The sensation was to take away the pleasure from him tonguing her but it seemed to do the opposite. Her hips bucked against his face and she shook with an ache so deep, he knew he had made her come and it was not a feeling she could have stopped under any circumstances but he would still punish her regardless.
“Bad girl,” he whispered and flipped her over from her back onto her stomach. “Get on all fours and stick your ass in the air.”
She did as she was told and her ass puckered high before him, her pussy lips slick with juices from deep inside. He touched her ass possessively as if she already belonged to him and slapped her hard. She winced with pain but said nothing. He slapped her again and wished he had a paddle because they did more damage than his hand ever could. He had no wish to break her skin but he did want her red and sore.
Every time his hand hit her ass, there was just the sound of the slap. She was defiantly quiet as if to make a sound would be a sense of weakness and she would never give in to him. Her defiance made him hit her harder and still—nothing—not one peep out of her.
He stopped and soothed her aching ass cheeks that were still brightly scarlet against her healthy olive skin.
“Turn over.”
Aurélie did so and she stared at him with a look of forlorn shame yet underneath, defiance clung to her expression. Her face, wet from the tears she’d allowed to fall and her eyes, red yet the color didn’t take away from the beautiful green-gray of her irises. She’d cried silently but she’d never said a word or buckled underneath the pressure.
He settled his body between her legs before he licked the tears from her cheeks. She didn’t flinch or turn away but she almost seemed to be in a fugue state, her eyes wide-open but so little movement.
