by Harlem Dae
The anticipation of it, being unable to discern the whereabouts on my buttocks the new toy would strike, was the most rewarding torment imaginable. Not only that—the not knowing how it would feel was honeyed torture.
I grunted as a long, thin slice of pain hit my right buttock, on the roundest part of the globe. It was a sting, no more than an elastic band, and I couldn’t deny that disappointment blackened my arousal.
But only for a second.
His fingers were back inside me, his clever thumb just stroking my anus, and the sting… Jesus… The sting had rushed into something else. Now it screamed through my entire arse, wrapping up my muscles in agonizing want. Instead of fading it grew, blooming, turning into a blistering heat. So that’s what he’d meant by the gift that keeps on giving.
“You didn’t expect that, now, did you?” he said then kissed my neck.
“Ah, fuck, no, bloody hell.” I clenched my fists on the wall. Writhed against him. “It’s getting worse…not fading.”
He chuckled. “Vicious little thing, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “More.”
Again he pulled his fingers out.
I reached down, found my clit and pressed it hard, clenched my cunt around nothing.
Oh, where would he treat me this time?
“Ah, fuck.” I squeezed my buttocks together as a whole body tremble attacked me.
He’d gone for symmetry. My left buttock had taken the full force of the misery stick, the sting harder than the last twang, which meant the blistering poison in my nerves would be even greater.
“You can come whenever you want, sub,” he said.
“Not your…sub… Sir.”
“Oh, I think you will be.”
Arrogant bastard.
I shoved my fingers into my pussy. The heel of my hand caught my clit, and I went for it hard and fast, determined to find an orgasm while pain still blurred my vision.
He flicked me again.
I cried out. He must have bent the stick farther back from my flesh each time he’d released it because the pain was building, increasing, each slice much more efficient at releasing endorphins.
“Ah, ah, ah…” I panted, heading to the glorious height of my pleasure. “Yes, one more, please.” That was all I needed, one more fantastic bout of pain.
He gave it, and in a knee-buckling, spine-crumbling moment of suspension I burst through my orgasm. I carried on fucking myself wetly with my fingers, bashing into my clit with near violence and struggling to breathe.
I dropped forwards. My face hit the wall hard, my cheek banging against then resting on the smooth, cool surface of a drawing pin.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me up. I was grateful for the support as I came down from my high. My insides spasmed—my guts clenched tight, my ears rang, and the clack-clack, clack-clack had become so distant.
“You sound beautiful when you orgasm,” he whispered. “So fucking beautiful.”
“It felt beautiful,” I gasped.
“It makes me very happy to hear that.”
I pulled in a deep breath. The air was laced with my sex smell as well as his subtle aftershave.
I turned around, placed my sizzling arse cheeks on the cool wall and looked up at him. I knew my hair would be a mess, my mascara no doubt smeared by the dampness I could feel around my eyes—unnoticed tears—and my lips red, not from lipstick but from where I’d just bitten into them.
He placed the misery stick on the nearest shelf. “You look”—he smoothed my hair from my face—“well and truly fucked.”
I giggled, a gush of noise that spilled out of me. I was high, ecstatic, running on overdrive. “Good, that’s my preferred look for the office.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek and he pressed his lips together. I suddenly realized how selfish I was being.
I stretched up, cupped his clean-shaven cheek and spoke into his ear. “Fuck me, Sir.”
His body tensed. He swallowed. “Is it what you want?”
“Yes, and I know damn well it’s what you want.” I brushed my hand over his groin, stroking his long, hard erection through his clothing.
“I can’t deny that.”
“So do it.” I released his belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped him. “You got a condom?”
He already had his wallet in his hand and was pulling out a small blue foil package.
I grinned, anticipating the feel of his solid shaft plunging deep into my pussy. He was well endowed, but I was so wet and ready for cock it would be an absolute treat to accommodate him.
After releasing his dick from his boxers, I made a show of exploring its length, of tracing the veins and smoothing beneath the groove of his circumcised glans. The movement of the train shifted our bodies slightly, rhythmic sways, but that didn’t disturb my adoration of his erection.
“Ah, yeah,” he groaned. “I love your little sub hands on me.”
He tipped his head back, groaned, and I decided to let that sub mention pass.
But I wasn’t his sub.
I gave a couple more languid push-pulls then took the condom and rolled it down his length.
He opened his eyes, watched me, his mouth slack and his eyes wide. He was so hard, so turned on, I really didn’t think he’d last long. But that was okay, I was still buzzing—it wouldn’t take much to tip me over the edge again.
“You’re ready,” I said. “To fuck me… Sir.”
He sucked in a breath. Oh, yeah, that Sir word seriously got him off.
Suddenly I was a foot higher. In a flash he’d slid me up the wall, spread my legs around his hips and had his hands on my sore arse.
“Get ready for it,” he said then claimed my mouth.
A second later he nearly split me in two by shunting his cock into my pussy.
I cried out in delight—the sound mixing with his long, low moan—and clung onto his shoulders.
“You feel so hot, so burning hot, in your cunt and on your arse,” he said onto my lips. “Fuck, I’m not going to last long. It feels fucking fantastic to have you on fire in and around me, on me… Oh, yeah…”
“Me either, Sir.” And I wasn’t going to last long—it was there, building up. “God, I want it so much again.”
He squeezed my bum, shooting pain through my pelvis. But I was an expert at harnessing discomfort and delivered it straight to my clit at exactly the same time that he ground into me, trapping my body between him and the wall.
My head lolled. I was being transported there again. I was one lucky girl.
His movements were frantic. I could feel his buttocks pistoning, the muscles taut and powerful. There was nothing slow and gentle about this fuck. It was all about the finish line. Getting the crazy need out of our systems as fast as possible.
“Jesus, it’s here…” He groaned and dug his fingers into my sore welts.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” I cried, spinning into free fall as he pumped his cum inside the condom.
My pussy hugged and released his pulsing cock, my body claimed every bit of bliss it could, and I willed him to keep pinching my arse until the orgasm had faded.
He stilled. But not his hands—he kept on abusing my tormented skin. It was perfection. He was a skilled master, that was for sure. The lingering, ongoing abuse eked out my orgasm until I wasn’t sure it would ever end.
I groaned, moaned, flexed and unflexed my fingers, curled my toes in my high-heeled shoes. My pussy didn’t want to let him go, my clit was still bobbing, shooting out darts of extreme pleasure that rattled up my spine and settled in my chest.
“That’s it, take what you need,” he panted against my cheek. “Take it all, I have plenty more where that came from.”
Chapter Four
Plenty more where that came from? Oh, God, he was up for doing it again? Could my fantasy get any better? I thought of the other scenarios I’d entertained in my head and knew that yes, it could get better.
“I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Sir,” I said
, out of breath and hotter than I’d thought I was going to get when I’d woken up this morning.
“Well, now, there’s a challenge if ever I heard one.”
He gave me a smile that melted my insides. I was ready to go yet again. Multiple orgasms would rule the day every time I was with him, I knew that. There was something about him that set me off, tripped all my switches and created total blackout, where nothing existed except him and me, what we were doing and the feelings I got from it.
Could I handle such a sexy man? One that was so on my level?
Fuck, yes.
He licked my earlobe. Gave my arse an extra hard squeeze. Sharp stabs of pain radiated through the flesh, zooming in on my clit again. My internal muscles clenched.
“And it seems your cunt wants more—that you want more…”
“Yes, I do, Sir. When do you propose to give me more?”
He licked down my neck then said, “We don’t usually get the same train back, but if we made it so we did, I assume you’d be ready for me on the way home? In here, against the wall?”
“I want something different,” I said. “I get bored easily.” I paused to make him wonder what I was thinking. Waited for him to fill the void.
“So you like variety,” he said. “I’m very pleased about that. It seems we’re well matched. Me a Dom, you a sub.”
“I’m not a sub and never will be. I only called you Sir because you said you prefer it that way.” I bristled, disliking being plonked in a category that I didn’t think I belonged in.
“In denial?” he asked, easing out of my pussy then lowering me to the floor. He put his hands on my shoulders and massaged, arcing his thumbs back and forth over the sides of my neck.
“No, I’m just not sub material, that’s all.” My legs were wobbly, as though what we’d done had sucked all the stability out of them. As though his little stick had been the catalyst in draining me of energy. How the hell was I going to get through my work day?
By thinking about him, that’s how. By relishing the pain on my arse every time I walk around, remembering how it got to be so sore.
“I beg to differ,” he said.
I stepped to the left then turned my back on him to give him some privacy in sorting out the condom. I heard the sound of his zip and waited a few seconds before swiveling to face him again. I put my knickers and skirt on.
“You can beg to differ all you want.” I smoothed my palms over my clothes, straightening them out. “But I know exactly who I am—and I am not a sub.”
He held up his hands as though admitting defeat. I could almost hear the words “We’ll see!” as they floated through his mind. He wore his emotions on his face—and as a Dom he might do better if he learnt to mask them. A sub could easily take advantage of him if they wanted to.
Suddenly, I didn’t want a sub doing that to him. Oh, I didn’t care about him, didn’t love him or anything like that, but I imagined that could come in time. If we both wanted it. I just didn’t want to see him topped from the bottom without realizing it.
“So,” I said, deciding to change the subject before he insisted again that I was someone I wasn’t, “you may want to have a little nap once you get home because our next encounter is at three a.m.”
He widened his eyes, scraping one hand down the side of his cheek. Was he fighting the urge to tell me not to give him orders?
“What?” he asked. “Why so late—or early, depending which way you want to look at it?”
“I’ve got this little scenario I’d like to try out.” I hoped he’d be up for it, that I’d see him, that he wasn’t just stringing me along in saying he was interested in fucking me again. I had a serious crush on him—him and that wicked stick—and I couldn’t wait to have more of it, of him. Of everything he had to offer.
“And what’s that?” He moved the two steps toward me. Crushed me to his chest. “Fuck, you’re such a dainty thing. I wouldn’t have guessed you could take it on the arse like you did. Being as it was your first time and all.”
“Like I said, I’ll take whatever you want to give me. And tonight you’re going to give me something in the deserted storeroom of a supermarket.”
“Pardon?”
He appeared so shocked I nearly laughed.
“That’s right. My daydreams involve many, many things. Me in ordinary situations, getting fucked and spanked and whipped and smacked and…lots of delicious things—things you need to think about if we’re going to make this a regular meet-up. Is that what you want?”
“Fuck, yes. I want to do so many dirty, kinky, debase things to you. Have done for quite a while. Like I told you, I’ve been thinking about you for a long time.”
I nodded, lifting one hand to brush a fingertip over his bottom lip. “I never would have known, to look at you—and believe me, I must have looked at you over a thousand times—that you’d change from the man you were when you offered to brush my hair from my face to…to who you just were. A no-holds-barred Dominant.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I love it.” And I had, did. He was right up my street, and hopefully, if he wanted to fuck me a third time, he’d be just that. Up my alley, too—in more ways than one.
“So, let’s get the rules straight before we go further.” He dashed his tongue out to lick the end of my finger.
A shiver went through me, and I imagined what that tongue would feel like if he slicked it up and down my slit. It would be hot, and he’d flatten it so my folds opened up and everything was there for him to take.
Heat threatened to fill my face and combined with his close proximity, I might have to step away very soon. To get air—he’d stolen all of mine, leaving me breathless just by staring down at me with those mesmerizing eyes of his.
“Tell me, who does what?” he asked. “What roles will we be playing?”
“Yes, what roles?” I said, struggling to keep my mind off thoughts of him hurting my arse again. Those questing fingers digging into my flesh and making me squirm, bringing on a fresh round of pain, a new edge to the burn. “You’ll bring the toy—I don’t want to know what it is beforehand. Surprise me. If it’s anything like you just used, you’ll be onto a winner. I choose the locations and, as I told you, tonight is in a supermarket. They’re empty at three in the morning, only shelf stackers and a couple of people on the tills. The security guard on the door. And that’s it. No one to interrupt us in the storeroom. I want you to fuck me in one of those metal cages they use to push the boxes around in. Do you know the kind I mean?”
He blew out a breath and nodded. “Yes. Which supermarket?”
“The one on Bridgewater. Know it?”
“I do. Go on, tell me more.”
“We’ll arrive as though we don’t know one another. Enter the shop separately. We’ll do a little role play—you know, single people browsing with our baskets, then oh, we just happen to catch one another’s attention at, say, the fruit aisle. All those bananas, cucumbers… Cock-like, aren’t they?”
“Jesus Christ…”
“You’ll be willing to take that nap after you get home then and meet me at three?” I smiled, knowing I’d got him, that he’d be meeting me all right.
“More than willing.”
I glanced at my watch, sad to see our intimate encounter would have to come to an end. “We really ought to get going.”
He grinned. “I thought we’d already done that.”
I returned his smile, moving my finger from his lips to trail it down to the collar of his shirt then swirl it over the knot of his tie—a tie I’d very much like binding my wrists while he wielded that stick of his again. Either stick, actually. His tie was red, and an image of it on my wrists—that were just as red from chafing—flicked through my mind.
“Make sure you wear this,” I said, tugging the tongue of his tie. “And”—I went on tiptoes to glance over his shoulder—“you might want to get that device of yours. You left it on the shelf there.”
He stepped back, me still holding his tie, and reached blindly for the stick. After finding it, he slid it into his inside pocket, and before I knew it, he was looming over me again. He kissed me—long and hard and oh so bloody toe-curling—then let me go, abruptly, as if I’d given him a shock.
I cocked my head and stared at him, disguising my surprise.
“I need to get away from you, woman,” he said, holding his hands up. “Because if I don’t, I’ll spend all day fucking you on this train. We may well go to Swansea and back and we wouldn’t notice.”
Relieved he hadn’t meant something else entirely, I laughed. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“No, and that’s the problem. I have an important meeting today. I can’t miss it. And believe me, if I could, I would. You’re far too tempting.”
“Delilah to your Samson?”
“Something like that.”
He stared at me for what seemed a long time, and I kept a steady gaze, unwilling to let it waver. I had a feeling he was once again trying to prove I was a sub—to make me look down or at least shift my eyes left or right.
He wouldn’t win this battle.
A tinny voice came from a hidden speaker, announcing the stop before ours. He glanced at the door. I allowed myself the beautiful taste of victory. It spread through me, giving me the shivers and resulting in a tremor in my pussy.
Oh, God, the things he does to me…
“Normally,” he said, “I’d say ladies first, but in this situation I think I’ll leave before you. In case that man’s out there again.”
“And if he is?”
“I’ll distract him so you can come out.”
He moved toward me, touched his fingertips to my cheek, then walked out of the door.
It closed behind him, and I went to it, opened it a tad to peek into the buffet carriage. Gabriel was at the other door. He turned and jerked his head. I left our little room and followed him into our carriage, but I didn’t sit when he did.
Instead, I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to the toilet. I want to look at my arse. Sir.”
He stared up at me, clamping his lips tight as though if he didn’t, he’d say something he wouldn’t want others to hear. The man next to him had left, but the woman beside my seat was still there, this time with her headphones dangling around her neck.
