His words were sometimes harsh, even at times beyond filthy, but he turned her on like no other man had before. Yes, she was his whore, his dirty little girl. Every inch of her curvy body was his. Every hair on her head was his to grasp and pull... Her eyes. Her ears... her pussy. All his... he paid for it. Sometimes she wondered if he would be like this if he hadn’t.
He held her hips, looking deep into her eyes. With a soft voice, he asked, “Do you know why you were all alone?”
“Cause you were busy?” she answered. Hoping it wasn’t because he didn’t care.
“Did you hate me, hours ago?” he asked, cocking his brow.
“Oh no, Sir. I would never hate you.”
He smiled. “Seriously, Stella, didn’t you hate me for leaving you alone these past few days? Be honest.”
She sucked on her bottom lip. She wanted to tell him the truth but didn’t want the feelings she had right now to go away. “I-I was angry with you,” she spoke honestly.
“And how do you feel about me now?” He winked.
“Well, I—uhm. I—I’m not angry with you anymore.”
“Not at all?”
“No, Sir. Not angry at all. In fact, I feel a deep, peaceful connection to you right now.”
He slapped her ass playfully. “And that, kitten, is why you were left alone.”
She sat still for a moment, considering his confession. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to remain straddling his lap or if he wanted her to get off him, and she was afraid to ask. She studied him, looking deep into his eyes just like he had ordered, look at me.
“Kitten?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Where’d you learn to come like that?” he asked.
“You, Sir, it’s all because of you.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She laid her head against him, feeling the warmth of his shoulder against her cheek, inhaling his fresh, clean scent. Even the sweat from his exertion smelled good. Powerful, manly, musky.
As he held her, their bodies spent, he started singing. A low, slow ballad. She loved it when he sang and being wrapped in his arms while he did it? Pure heaven. She felt safe, happy, like she mattered. And the way he was holding her, singing to her...she knew she mattered to him. The past few weeks were all forgotten. The rope, the crop, the silence... all forgotten.
A single tear fell down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. Yeah, he could own her, everything except her heart. That she kept closely guarded. Only this time, she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it safe...
He may own my body, but not my soul…
Not yet anyway.
Chapter 8
Her desolate bedroom had been turned into a warm and safe haven overnight. He’d slept with her in the dungeon ever since he’d returned, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. She lay there, listening to him as he slept beside her. His rhythmic breathing was so tranquil. She thought about him sleeping with her. It wasn’t like he was there to have sex, he was just there because he wanted to be, though he never spoke of his feelings. He would enter the dungeon at what she assumed was nightfall, sleep for a few hours, then get up and leave for the day. The first night he came in while she was sleeping, he’d startled her; she only saw him lying there when she woke up. That seemed crazy to her. He had the whole house to sleep in, and yet he chose to sleep with her. She wondered if maybe he had deeper feelings for her than he was letting on. He did write MINE across her forehead, but to her, that was just playtime.
She slid out of bed, careful not to wake him and tiptoed to the bathroom. He hadn’t told her to assume her position for a while, and she had almost forgot about the small role in her training. However, for some reason, she had more desire to please him today.
She turned on the shower and stepped in. The hot water cascaded down her back, and she lathered up her hair and body with his favorite jasmine scent.
The routine was so familiar, razor sliding through foam from her ankle to thigh. Over and over she stroked as her mind thought of Sir. She wondered about their newfound closeness. Was it real? Or just part of the job? It was so hard to tell, too hard to know.
When it was time to shave her pussy, she chuckled to herself as she remembered when he told her why he wanted her to have the landing strip. He liked ‘the lips and ass bare but wanted to make love to a woman, not a girl.’ Funny. It made her wonder how many other men felt like that, because before Sir, she kept her pussy completely shaven.
She ran her fingers across her legs and pussy, making sure she didn’t miss any of the soft hairs before rinsing off with warm water. Every morning after her shower, she primped and powdered and made herself presentable for Sir. Today was no different.
When she was finished, she stepped out of the bathroom, turned off the light, and in complete darkness, walked over to her floor pillow to assume her morning greeting position for him. He was still sleeping as she got on her knees and leaned back on her hands to offer her breasts. Lastly, she spread her legs wide, bowed her head, and waited patiently.
As she knelt, a slow trickle of wetness seeped out of her freshly shaven pussy and down her thigh. Being with a man so demanding and tender as Sir made her wet with desire every time she was under his control. He stirred and her breathing quickened, hoping he was waking up. She wanted to look into his eyes, to see his face. She wanted to touch him. When he moved his arm across the bed, patting it—searching for her—she smiled, knowing he wanted her, too.
“Stella?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m here,” she answered softly, keeping her head bowed, eyes lowered as she’d been trained to do. Even after he turned on the light, she didn’t look up. She wanted to be good for him, especially today. She kept her head down and her eyes fixed to the ground waiting for his commands.
“Mmm, you’re looking beautiful today.” He rose from the bed and walked over until he was in front of her. With his cock hard, he pressed it against her face. “Do you know what today is, my dirty girl?” he asked as he tickled her mouth with the round tip of his dick.
She wondered, should I suck it or reply to him? She answered first. “No Sir, I don’t. Is it a special day?”
“Very special,” he whispered as he slid his cock across her mouth, his pre-cum glistened on her bottom lip. “Today is your 21st birthday, kitten, and I’ve got pl—”
Without thinking, she suddenly looked up, startled at his admission. “My birthday? It’s my birthday already?” She started to scramble up, pushing to her feet, but he caught her before she could fully rise. “Fuck, I’m sorry, but I have to go. Our time is up.”
He tried to calm her. “Hold on, Stella, slow down!”
She pushed against him, still struggling to get up. “It’s my birthday, are you sure?” She was repeating herself, but the very idea that she’d been here that long came as a complete surprise.
“How could it be my birthday so soon? That means I’ve been here…” She did a quick calculation in her head. “Sixty-two days!”
Rage coursed through her as she realized she’d been tricked. She jerked away when he tried to touch her. “Don’t touch me ever again. You tricked me, tried to play me for a fool. You thought you could just keep me here forever? Without my consent? Is that why there’s no TV or radio down here? So you could keep me?”
“Stella, stop, listen to me. It’s not like that. Stop.”
“No, I’ve got to go. I have to see my mom. It’s my birthday. Don’t you know what that means? I have to go see–where are my clothes?” She frantically looked around the room for something to put on.
He grabbed her and held her, this time prepared for a fight. “Stella, calm down.”
“No, you don’t understand, you don’t know!” She fought him, pushing against his chest as she started to cry. He let her go, and she threw herself on the bed, pounding her fists in the pillow. “It’s my birthday! My mom! I can’t do this today… I can’t! I must see my mom. You don’t und
erstand…!” Her body shook as she sobbed. She stuffed a pillow against her face to stifle her screams. Sir sat beside her, his warm hands caressing her back.
“Shhh... Shhh... Kitten, it’ll be okay. We’ll go see your mom.” He curled his arm around her and pulled her up closer to him. “We’ll go, I promise to take you.”
Amazingly, she felt calmer. His soothing words and warm closeness took the edge off her anger and fear. “Are you sure we can go? I mean, we’d have to leave the house.”
“Yes, I said we will, and we will.”
She looked at him, his chest muscles gently moving up and down with each breath. His tenderness washed away any more tears that might have fallen. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.”
He softly caressed her cheek, a gesture so filled with affection that it took her breath away. Their eyes connected, and he repeated, “I promise.”
Stella’s heart raced as his lips closed over hers. A kiss, a real kiss. A first between them. It deepened, his tongue exploring her mouth, and she responded as desire ran through her. Moments later, he pulled away, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her temple. “I promise,” he said again.
“But I—I don’t understand. My time is up. Plus, I can’t go out, I have no other clothes except what I was wearing when I got here,” she stammered, overwhelmed and confused. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she still didn’t understand what was happening or even what would happen next.
He cocked his brow and a half smile swept across his face. “You will for tonight, kitten. Now get—”
A frantic pounding on the door stopped him and before he could open it, Maga burst in, slamming the door behind her. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and her breath was short. Panting, she blurted out, “Master... Master, he’s here.” She dragged in an unwavering breath. “Walt, is here. Inside—inside the house. He’s looking for you! I don’t know how he got in… But...he’s here, Sir, and I think he’s got a gun!”
Panic overcame Stella. Her heart jumped inside her chest, and her mouth went dry. “Walt? What the hell is he doing here?” She grabbed the sheet instinctively, covering herself up. “What do you mean he’s got a gun? Isn’t he here to get me? Let me go talk to him.” She wrapped the sheet around her like a robe, got up from the bed, and started toward the door.
“Stella, stay put!” Sir embraced Maga as she shivered uncontrollably in sheer terror. “Calm down, Maga. It’s okay. He’s been here before, so why are you so terrified?”
“I’m so sorry to burst in on you like this, Master, but I saw him come into the house! I was gardening and…and…he… he came inside. I ran after him and called out to him, but he just ignored me. And when I saw the… the gun in his hand, I got sca-scared. I’m sorry, Master.” She struggled to catch her breath through her sobs. She looked up at him, and all the color had drained out of her face as she noticed how angry he was. She fell against the wall and slid down to the floor, landing hard on her bottom. Her sobs were a heavy downpour of fear.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.” He turned to Stella, still standing there frozen in her tracks. “You too, Stella, sit down, relax.” He walked over to the door and opened it just as Walt’s booming voice echoed down the corridor.
“Carrington, you sick, kinky bastard! I’ve had it with you,” Walt bellowed. “Come out and bring my girl with you. Your time’s up!”
Sir smiled and rolled his eyes. “Ladies, please don’t concern yourselves with this shit. I’ll take care of it.” He shook his head, talking to himself. “Idiot.” He turned to Stella and said, “Maybe he didn’t think I used enough light in those photos I sent him? What do you think, dirty girl?” His voice was smooth and reassuring as a wry smile crept across his face.
Sir didn’t seem bothered at all when Walt stormed in, pushing him back on his heels. He managed to keep his balance as Walt’s finger thrust toward him, stabbing him hard in the chest.
“Carrington, you fuckin’ slimy bastard! Trying to hide from me with these bitches?” He glanced over at Stella. “Get your ass up, Shorty, we’re going home.”
With a strong grip, Sir grabbed Walt’s wrist, lowering his thrusting fingers, and got up in his face. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are coming into my house like you fucking own it, but you need to turn yourself around and leave. If you need to talk to me, you call for an appointment. I am a very busy man.”
Walt snarled back, jerking his arm away. “Fuck you, man, don’t fuck with me! Stella is my whore… she’s mine. Get it?” He glanced quickly over to Stella. “And I’ve only come to claim what’s mine.” He moved toward her and said, “Get your things.”
Michael was like a steel wall as he stepped between Walt and Stella. “I said you need to go. We had a business arrangement. It’s over, now leave.”
Walt’s hand swung through the air and grabbed Sir’s shoulder. “Don’t you fuckin’ get wise with me, Carrington. You paid for sixty days with this bitch and as of right now, we’re at sixty fucking two!”
“Stop it!” Stella screamed, holding the sheet tight around her body. She glanced at Sir and said calmly, “I’ll go with him, Sir. Don’t fight over me, I’m not worth it.” She looked over to Walt. “Let’s go. I don’t have anything.” Her heart wrenched, but she knew this gig was over. She’d grown accustomed to having her own space and Maga as a friend, but it was over. The sixty days were up.
Walt looked over to Michael and sneered, “I told you, ya little fucker. She’s mine.”
Like a rattlesnake striking its prey, Sir’s fist lashed out and landed a hard punch squarely in Walt’s face, sending him reeling back hard against the wall.
Walt raised his hands to his face, blood dripping from between his fingers and down his arm. “You just broke my fucking nose, you asshole!” he yelled as he lunged forward. He grabbed Sir in a bear hug, and they both crashed to the ground, grappling with each other.
“I’m gonna fuck you up! You’re gonna be sorry you did that, Carrington!” Walt tried to pin Sir down with his heavy body and swung his huge fists at his head, but he was no match for Sir’s fitness and skill as a fighter. With a twist and a flex of his athletic body, Sir sent Walt flying over his shoulders and into a heap. Walt groaned in pain as he hit the floor.
Sir sat up, brushing the dust off his sweatpants. “Don’t be an ass, Walt, let’s sort this out like gentlemen. There’s no need for all this unpleasantness. We had a deal, the deal is over, and I’ll pay you what’s owed, so go get another whore.” He glanced over at Stella, still wrapped in the sheet, frozen in fear. He cocked an eyebrow and winked at her. Smiling at her he said, “Stella is mine, now. I’m keeping her.”
Stella looked at Sir and then back to Walt bleeding out of his nose. She was enraged to be treated with such ill regard, like a damn possession. She may have been an escort, but she refused to be tossed around like a common rag doll. She clenched her hands into fists and shouted, “This is utterly fucking ridiculous.” She walked toward the two men, but Sir put his hand out to stop her. Her steps faltered as the sheet wrapped round her ankles, and she tripped, stumbling forward. As she grasped at the air to steady herself, Walt wrapped her up in his arms and slung her behind him.
She let out a yelp as she landed and caught a glimpse of something shiny beneath Walt’s jacket as it swung open. “Oh my God, Walt, what is that? You have a fucking gun? For me?” She tried to shove out of Walt’s grasp, terrified of what would come of the situation.
He glanced at her and back to Sir. “You sorry ass motherfucker!” Walt’s harsh words interrupted her train of thought. “I’ve had enough of your shit.” Walt reached inside his jacket and pulled out the gun. He fumbled with it for a second, easing it into his palm then pointed it at Sir. “Now you aren’t gonna do one fucking thing to stop me from taking back my bitch, or I’ll pop a cap in your ass right now.”
“Walt! No! I’ll go!” Stella screamed. “Put it down!” Her heart quickened, and she wrapped the sheet tightly around her so she wouldn’t trip ag
ain. “I said I’ll go! Now put it down!”
“Stella, sit your ass down,” Sir demanded in a thunderous tone that frightened her. “Walt, don’t be so fucking melodramatic. I can’t believe a man of your caliber would kill me over a dirty little slut like this. They’re a dime a dozen on Main Street, go and get another.”
Stella gasped at his harsh words, struggling to take it all in. Sir glanced at her and gave her a little wink. She thought maybe he was trying to give her a signal, but the adrenaline rushing through her body kept her from thinking rationally. If he had a hidden message, she had absolutely no idea what it was.
“Carrington, you’re one stupid fuck if you think you can rip me off. That’s my best-earning bitch right there, and I’m taking her home.”
With an evil grin spreading across his face, he flicked off the safety and slowly pulled back the slide on top of the barrel. The familiar sound of a bullet being loaded into the chamber punctuated the silence. He leaned down, putting a hand under Sir’s chin, and shoved the Glock hard against Sir’s head.
Walt stayed focused on Sir and spoke calmly in his ear. “Carrington… you broke my fucking nose, you stole my property, and I told you two months ago... No kinky shit with my girl. I thought I’d made myself clear, but you didn’t listen, did you? And on top of all that, you rub my nose in it by sending me pictures of her all trussed up like a fucking Christmas turkey. Well now, you’re gonna die.”
With that last word, Sir started laughing. “How did you like those pictures, Walt? Did they make you hot? Make you want your little slut back. Make you realize what you’d given up?”
Walt’s face turned even redder, and his lips twisted in pure rage. “Motherfucker, you’d better shut up!”
“Why? Are you in love with her?” Sir goaded and then laughed again. “You are, you’re in love with that little slut.”
Walt’s finger extended, slipping inside the guard toward the trigger, and as if in slow motion, he began to squeeze. Stella leaped toward him, swinging an eighteen-inch spreader bar, and brought it down hard on Walt’s arm, sending the Glock flying from his hand.
Shameless Submission: A Dark BDSM Romance Page 6
