by Lucy Wild
That’s all I wanted to do to Zoey. I nearly stamped my feet as I walked. I only wanted to break her. I didn’t want her to mean anything to me. The idea was terrifying.
Because if she meant something to me, anything to me, then that might mean I had something to live for. If I opened up that can of worms, there would be nothing I could do to close it again. I’d be that sad old fat bastard on his yacht, hated by the world, clinging onto his wealth, seeing attackers on all sides.
I wasn’t going to become him. I wasn’t going to let life win. I was master of my fate. I was master of her. I would master my own emotions and definitely not develop a connection to her. That wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t who I was. I didn’t connect, I destroyed. I pretended to connect to get what I wanted. I did not care about her. I didn’t.
But despite how sure I was, her face was the one I thought of as I drifted off to sleep.
EIGHTEEN
ZOEY
I woke up, my eyes settling on the ceiling above me, the chandelier swaying ever so slightly in the morning breeze.
I’d left the window open overnight. Before bed, I’d knelt next to it, the sash pulled up, breathing in the night air. I could see nothing but darkness out there and it reminded me of him. I only had to look at him to see darkness blacker than a moonless night.
He’d checked on me twice as I had sat reading in my room, nodding his approval at finding I wasn’t touching myself. On the second occasion, he brought me a beautiful pure white dress, a reward for obeying his commands.
It felt good to be dressed again, especially in an outfit that had clearly cost an absolute fortune. The room became increasingly stuffy as the evening drew in, until I felt obliged to open the window. The air felt good on my face. It reminded me that the real world was still out there, even though it felt a long way away.
He had come to me in the night. I was still not given permission to orgasm. I went to sit up but it was a struggle. For a few seconds I couldn’t think why but then I remembered. He had tied to me to the bed.
He had come in, I had no idea at what time. Without saying a word, he commanded me to get in the position he’d taught me, clicking his fingers next to my ear. I knew from his expression, lit only by the glow of the bulb out on the landing, what he was telling me to do.
I took the dress off, no longer ashamed of my nakedness in front of him. It had already begun to feel natural, as if this was the way it should always be. I had no idea how that switch had occurred in my mind, only that it had. I was not scared of showing myself to him anymore.
Once I was presented to him in the way he demanded, he produced the ropes, tying me to the bed, still without saying anything.
He smelt of whisky, his eyes slightly bleary which I took as a sign he’d been drinking too much. He didn’t act drunk though, neatly tying my limbs in place before standing up and undoing the buttons on his shirt.
The rope pinched the skin on my wrists as I shuffled in place, watching his chest come into view. He was clearly someone who worked out, each ridge of muscle drawing my eye, my body heating up at the sight. He could take me and there would be nothing I could do about it. The idea excited me beyond reason.
But he didn’t do anything of the sort. He instead brandished a long feather, running it gently over my body, circling my nipples, stroking my thighs, running it up to my neck while I fought to control my breathing, staring up at that chest of his.
He knew he was teasing me, a smile playing across his lips as I gasped up at him, pushing my hips upwards, trying to hint at my desire, my need for an orgasm.
He tormented me for I don’t know how long, then he just upped and left, not even bidding me good night.
I slept, fitfully. Then I woke up with the ropes still in place, my limbs aching after a night of being unable to roll over.
I had barely realised where I was and what was happening before he came in. “Good morning,” he said, untying the knots that held my left wrist in place. “You will get into position as soon as you are able. Once in position, you will remain there without moving. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied with a nod, rubbing at my freed wrists, trying to bring them back to life.
Once he had untied my legs, he stepped back and folded his arms, watching as I turned onto my front.
I pressed my face into the blanket underneath me, reaching back to spread my buttocks. I waited, the tension growing inside me as I heard nothing. Was he even still there?
I had dreamt of him during the night. He had teased and tormented me so much, I was unable to think about anything else. He had come into my world and dragged me out of it, wrenching me from my comfort zone, distracting me from the shitstorm that was my life.
In just two days he had changed me. Was it simply my lust? My desire for the orgasm that he had yet to permit?
No, it wasn’t just that. It was something else, something greater. I struggled to put my finger on exactly what it was but it had happened. I was different because of him. I was still shy, still innocent. But I was more myself.
It sounds strange to even think of it that way. Could a person change so quickly? I guess it’s a matter of pressure. I’d been under pressure for so long, I had hardly noticed how much it was crushing me.
Months of searching for money will do that to you, seeing the happy smiling faces of your family, knowing they trust you, they believe in you, knowing you’re going to let them all down.
It drips like a leaking tap. Given enough time, the sink will fill up and then overflow. What had he done? Pulled the plug out? That was melodramatic. But it was kind of accurate.
Maybe it was that the situation had done that. I had been taken away from the worries of my normal life and the intensity of my new worries had made them easier to forget. I’d only remembered again when he asked me why I was doing this. I’d almost forgotten the reason, so swept up in the madness of being his play thing.
I wasn’t just a thing though, I wasn’t just there for his pleasure. He’d already shown me more about pleasure than my ex ever had. He’d made ever movement of his hand on my body full of meaning. He’d made my body change, it was on edge at that moment without a single thing happening.
He wasn’t touching me, he wasn’t doing anything, yet I felt more excited than I ever had. Perhaps it was because the excitement was mixed with fear of the unknown, of wondering just what he might do to me this time. All I could do was wait to find out.
NINETEEN
ETHAN
I took a moment to admire her. She was as beautiful as a sculpture, her skin pale, her ass perfectly rounded, her hands gripping her buttocks, pulling them apart. Even her tiny little puckered hole looked beautiful. My cock throbbed in anticipation of what I was about to do.
I still wasn’t sure exactly why she was doing this. I had been so sure in the past, of everything, of my reasons for doing everything. But she’d brought doubt creeping into my mind. I had done my best to stamp on it but it was like stamping on a shaft of light coming in from under a door. I could stamp all I liked, it would still be there, unharmed and untouched after I was done.
I was worried that metaphorical door would open and let in all the light. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to think about doubt. I refused to. Doubt was weakness. I had got where I was by being strong, by making decisions, not by doubting myself.
I should have been able to tell by now. I should have taken one look at her as she got into position and known. I’d known with all the others. But with her, I couldn’t tell. Was she scared of me? Was that why she was acquiescing to my commands, even the one to present her body to me in such an obscene way? Or maybe she thought this was some kind of game? One in which she only had to run out the clock to win.
I needed to get the power back, to get the certainty back. I had slept with doubt in my mind, I had heard the whispers in the back of my head, the ones that began when Emilia broke me, that told me revenge wasn’t winning. It was. Of course it
was. Every action movie I’d ever seen ended with revenge, the hero never shrugged his shoulders, forgave the villain, walked away. No, you had to stamp on your enemies, show them who was boss.
Focus on the fact that she is doing what you tell her. That’s what I told myself as I paced back and forth from one side of the bed to the other. It was going more easily than it might. She wasn’t fighting, she was willing to submit.
I wanted to punish her for defying me but she wasn’t. I could make up a reason, change the rules, of course I could. But that wasn’t the way to win this. Even without an adjudicator, I wanted to do things properly.
I moved towards her side, looking closer at her body. I ran my hand slowly between her buttocks, loving how soft her skin felt. There was one way to be sure about her, to be sure about all of this. I had to fuck her.
But the moment I made that decision, she looked back at me, her eyes meeting mine.
“You know the rules,” I said, realising I had the perfect excuse now. “You broke them. You must be punished.”
I thought the notion would terrify her but there was a flicker of something that mixed in with her fear and confused me even more. It was pleasure.
The smile vanished when I spanked her, replaced by a look of shock. She let out a yelp of pain. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she managed to say, turning her head back into the blanket.
“It’s too late for that,” I said, looking at the red palm print I’d brought to the surface of her skin, her ass looking even hotter than before. I spanked her again. “Get on the floor and on your knees.”
She was up off the bed in under a second, as if she thought I might grab her. Once she was down on the floor, I began to undo my belt, staring at her as I did so. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
She nodded. “I have, Sir.”
“Did you like it?”
She shrugged before shaking her head slowly, doubtfully.
“So that’s a yes. You know you shouldn’t lie to me. You can admit you like things. You can admit you like sucking cock.”
I pushed my zip slowly down, watching her reaction. “Do you want to suck my cock?”
She nodded, again slowly.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say you want to suck my cock. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to suck your cock, Sir.”
“You want it in your mouth, don’t you?”
“I do, Sir.”
As she answered me, I pushed my trousers down to the floor, stepping out of them, my hard on pressing against the front of my boxers. “Open your mouth.”
She did as I asked, her lips parting, her eagerness all too evident. I slid my boxer shorts down slowly, taking my time, watching her eyes widen as my cock sprang into view, hard as rock, pointing upwards. It throbbed as I took hold of the shaft and stroked it slowly, right in front of her eyes.
“Do you still want to go home?” I asked, holding it an inch away from her. “You can go if you want. I won’t stop you.”
She shook her head, keeping her mouth open like I’d told her.
I couldn’t wait any longer. With my hands on either side of her head, I pushed myself into her mouth, sliding over her tongue, not stopping the motion of my hips until I was buried inside her throat. Her face turned pink, then red, as she gagged on my length, saliva starting to run out the edge of her mouth, turning me on even more. She looked as if she only existed to please me and the thought drove me wild. I had to resist coming in her mouth at once, knowing how much more work I had to do yet.
I pulled back out, letting her take a quick breath before sliding in again. This time, I rocked back and forth, pressing my hips towards her face, fucking her mouth, showing her that she belonged to me. She was mine to use. I would give her pleasure when she had earned it but I could take my own when I chose. That was the nature of our agreement.
I could tell from the look in her eyes how happy she was, even as doubt flashed across them. I knew that doubt. It was the doubt that this was allowed, that it was all right for her to enjoy herself like this. She had a lot to learn.
“When I pull out,” I said, looking down at her cheeks as she fought to breathe around my cock. “You will stay still until I tell you to move. Now close your eyes and do not open them.”
TWENTY
ZOEY
His cock was in my mouth. Six short words. So much could be contained in six short words. The physical sensation, the size of it, the way it almost hit the back of my throat, only his self control making him pull back in time.
The taste, the heat, the way it throbbed and twitched as it ran over my tongue. But that was only the physical sensation of it. I was choking, unable to breathe, my mouth wide open to accommodate him. It felt incredible.
My mind whirled, the emotions involved so much deeper than the simple physical. He was hard because he was in my mouth. He was hard when he’d slid down his boxer shorts and revealed his huge cock, big enough to make me nervous. If he was going to fuck me, would it even fit? Would it hurt? I’d never seen one like his before and my body ached with need before he even asked me if I liked sucking cock.
What was I supposed to tell him? That I loved the idea of it but my ex had thought it was disgusting? Seemingly, he was the only man in the world that didn’t want my lips on his dick, telling me those were the lips that kissed him, why would he want to kiss his own cock?
I could tell him that I wanted to taste him more than anything, but then he’d think I was a slut. He’d think I was obsessed with cock. In that moment, he’d have been right. It was the only thing I could see as he stroked himself right in front of my eyes.
My own body had been teased for so long that I was no longer thinking straight. I could only think about him, about the way he felt when he slid into my mouth, the way he looked when he first revealed himself to me. Then he pulled out.
I was to keep my eyes shut. I’d closed them as soon as he told me to, my mouth tingling from the heat of him. I took several deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing down, my heart pounding nervously as I waited to find out what was going to happen next. Was he going to fuck me? My pussy contracted around emptiness at the thought, wanting him in there, filling me, giving me the release I’d needed for what felt like forever.
I heard the jangling of metal and then he took hold of my left wrist. Was that a handcuff he was clicking over it? I desperately wanted to look but I managed to do as he’d ordered, keep my eyes shut as the same thing happened to my right wrist. A heavy weight was holding them apart, some kind of bar.
I winced as something clamped down onto my right nipple. I had barely got used to the sensation when he did it to my left nipple. Was that the nipple clamp I’d seen in the drawer?
“Stand up,” he said. “Open your eyes.”
As I did so, he lunged at me and before I could blink, there was a ball gag in my mouth, the elasticated band stretched over my head, holding it in place, stopping me from speaking. Saliva was already forming behind it as I looked at the black bar that held my hands apart. The nipple clamps were connected by a gold chain and he tugged at it as I looked, making me wince at the intensity of the sensation, my clit throbbing with desire at the sight of his cock swaying slightly in front of me.
“Onto the bed, all fours,” he said, his voice as ordinary as if he’d just told me to collect his newspaper for him. He almost sounded bored.
I did as he asked, falling forwards as I was unable to balance on either hand. I went to right myself but he pushed my back down. “Stay there,” he said, grabbing my right ankle and clicking a handcuff over that. Another bar. This one holding my feet apart.
I was presented for him in that moment but in a very different way to before. I could not bring my hands or my legs together. My pussy was on show to him until he untied me.
I couldn’t see him. I had no idea what he was doing behind me. All of a sudden, I felt and heard a vibrator being turned on at the same time as it was pres
sed directly to my clit. I screamed into the gag, the sensation too strong to handle.
He sensed my discomfort, lowering the speed of the thing until I began to groan with desire, my hips rocking in place, the only real movement I could make.
It took only minutes to bring me to the edge of orgasm but even as my thighs began to tighten in readiness for my climax, he pulled it away, switching it off and leaving me thwarted once again.
I only had seconds to hate the lack of sensation before his cock slid between my legs, the heat of the shaft pressing directly onto my pussy. He ground himself against me, holding onto my hips, his legs over the bar on the bed, keeping my feet in place.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock around the entrance to me. I tried to say yes, the sound strangled by the ball gag in my mouth. I pushed back, trying to encourage him to get in me but he just laughed.
“You’re not as innocent as you look,” he said, pushing his cock towards my clit, rubbing over it and then back again. “You want me to fuck you. You want my cock inside you, don’t you?”
I again tried to beg him to fuck me, my mind lost in the need to feel anything in me that could fill the emptiness inside me. I needed it so badly, I screamed, wishing my limbs were free so I could make him get in me. I was going mad with need.
Then he did it.
His cock slid through my wetness, pushing into me, making me wince at the damned size of it. His shaft stretched me and it took time to get used to the feel of it but he gave me no time, continuing to slide deeper and deeper until I was sure there could be no more. I shook my head. No more, I couldn’t take any more. I couldn’t.
He added another inch and I lost any self control I’d had. I cried, actual tears running down my cheeks as I tried to get used to the size of him, how much he’d filled me. The ache of emptiness had gone and I doubted I’d ever feel it again. He couldn’t leave, he had to stay there forever.
