by Desiree Holt
When she was hired to help his executive assistant, he’d spotted her at once as prime submissive material. She was thrilled when he asked her to dinner, even more so the first time he took her home. Her reaction to the activities in the bedroom confirmed his feelings, that she had been involved in BDSM before. Perhaps nothing as extreme as what Brian practiced, but at least he hadn’t had to start from scratch.
In the beginning, he’d allowed her to keep her position at the office but once he actually moved her into his house, she’d worked from there. If Jocelyn, his executive assistant, had any questions about that, she didn’t voice them.
And then, so imperceptibly Natalie barely noticed, he’d shut the door on her friends and acquaintances. He didn’t want any outside influences, neither personal nor business. She was his. Every minute of her life belonged to him.
She had been with him six months now and her training had come along nicely. No one questioned her isolation. When she accompanied him to certain events, no one commented on her docile attitude or her complete deference to him. He dressed her appropriately, schooled her on proper behavior, and displayed her like a prized possession. He thought secretly other men envied him; men whose women spoke in shrill voices, wore too much makeup, behaved unacceptably. Questioned their authority.
Whatever the reaction might be when he and Natalie were out in public, who would doubt the motives of the great Brian Willoughby? He believed most of her friends thought her damn lucky that she was in a relationship with him. Living in his house. Enjoying all the advantages he provided. They didn’t need to know the particulars of the situation.
“You may look at me now, sub.”
She lifted her gaze and in her eyes, he saw intense relief that he had actually come home. That she hadn’t been forced to spend another day alone in the room, watching only the television shows he permitted, reading the books he left for her, taking her meals in solitude. She was never allowed in other parts of the house when he wasn’t home.
“I decided not to leave you alone again tonight.”
Her mouth curved in a familiar tiny smile. “Thank you, Master.”
Brian took a moment to let his eyes rove over every inch of her body. Her skin was smooth, almost the color of alabaster. Her high breasts were firm and tipped with large, almond-colored nipples. Her legs were long and slim and she always moved with the grace of a dancer. Sometimes he just sat and had her walk around the room naked so he could watch the movement of her body.
He insisted she wear her hair down all the time. It fell just below her shoulders, a rippling mantle of sable-colored silk that moved fluidly whenever she turned her head. Once a month he took her to a high-end salon where a stylist trimmed and fluffed and conditioned. At the same salon, she got manicures and pedicures and complete waxing, including her eyebrows. It was important to Brian that Natalie’s body be well cared for so it was always pleasing to his eyes.
He admired her now the way he would a statue, the lust in him brewing at the satisfaction of owning such a slice of perfection. His cock was giving him fits and already in his mind, he was devising ways to torment her tonight to give himself the maximum amount of gratification.
He undressed, hanging his suit in her closet and discarding everything else in a clothes hamper. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and tugged them on, the waist resting low on his hips. He turned to find Natalie watching him intently, poised on the edge of her chair as she waited for his commands.
“Come closer, sub,” he directed, standing with his feet apart and his arms folded across his chest. “Do it the way I like you to.”
She slid from the chair onto her knees, placed her hands behind her back and crawled to him. He had spent some time training her to move that way without toppling to the side or falling forward. He watched the movement of her legs, her thighs still open so her cunt was exposed, and the sway of her breasts, the nipples already hard and darkened.
When she was in front of him, she bent forward, hands still clasped behind her back, and touched her forehead to the floor. Brian knew she would stay in that position until he told her to move, no matter how uncomfortable it became. He was tempted to leave her for a while but his barely leashed rage from earlier in the day demanded that he release it in some way. And a passive situation wasn’t going to do it for him.
“Did you shower and prepare yourself for me?” he asked. He knew she had. The special bath soap and the cream he insisted she apply to every area of her body were made just for her, and he could smell them now. For each of his subs, he chose a different fragrance. With Natalie, it was the soft aroma of apricot that drifted from her body, tantalizing him.
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Rise to your feet.”
She stood somewhat awkwardly but waited in an expectant pose. Yes, she was definitely coming along very nicely. Her entire life had become bound up in his wishes, desires and commands. Her pleasure now came only from doing whatever he dictated, and from knowing that she pleased him. The satisfaction he derived from that made his cock harden and swell even more. Tonight he would drive her crazy until she screamed for mercy. Maybe that would help wipe the anger at Fallon Crowe from his mind. And the sense of betrayal.
Brian opened a drawer in the long dresser and removed several items. Placing most of them at the foot of the bed, he handed her the steel butt plug and a tube of gel.
“This is the special lube, Slave. Just a hint of spice, right?”
Her eyes widened just slightly and she licked her lips. She knew what he meant, of course. This particular lube was prepared with a tiny bit of ginger, just enough so there would be a stinging sensation on the tender flesh of her rectum. A little something to enhance the stimulation. In the beginning she’d complained about it, but lately he’d come to realize she almost craved it. He continued to be amazed at the levels of pain people could not only become accustomed to, but sometimes actually beg for. Increasing that level gave him enormous pleasure.
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“I’m going to fuck that ass of yours tonight until you scream down the house.” He heard the rough edge in his voice but he didn’t care. It was who he was. “So put the lube on this and get ready for me to slide it in. I want your tissues good and stretched. And burning.”
Natalie took the plug from him and squeezed about an inch of lube onto her finger. Brian swallowed a smile as he saw how stingy she was being. She spread it over the metal before handing it to him and, without being told, climbed up onto the bed, settling herself on her hands and knees.
Brian stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, enjoying her complete subservience. Holding the plug in one hand, he delivered a hard slap to her buttocks with the other. She flinched but remained silent, even as she tensed slightly for whatever came next.
He couldn’t resist spanking her again, and yet again. Her light skin turned such an arousing shade of red. Not as bright as when he paddled or flogged her, and certainly not with the very satisfying results achieved with caning. But for the moment it would do.
She held herself as still as possible while he rained blows on her tender skin, but with each contact he could see her trembling a little more. When he was satisfied she’d reached the maximum level of pain for the moment, he nudged her thighs farther apart so he could test the condition of her cunt.
Soaked! Of course. She had developed nicely, from a tentative sub who could respond properly to a low level of pain, to one who could tolerate and be aroused by several levels higher. And he hadn’t realized her full potential yet.
She tensed but then he watched her force herself to relax.
“Deep breath,” he reminded her, and waited until she’d inhaled.
Separating the cheeks of her ass with the fingers of one hand, he used the other to press the tip of the plug against the tight ring of her anus. He twisted it slightly, until he’d placed a thin coating of the lube at her entrance. As she slowly exhaled, he exerted p
ressure, and little by little the toy disappeared into her dark tunnel until it was all the way in. A slight shudder raced over her as the ginger began to do its job.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
Walking to the head of the bed, he removed two of the thick pillows from beneath the spread and slid them under her stomach for support. Then he fastened wide leather cuffs around her thighs and wrists. Finally, he threaded chains through the eyelets and linked each wrist to a thigh cuff, so her arms were immobilized.
Captured.
No—trapped. Just as he liked her.
He had to suck in a deep breath of his own. His cock was sending him emergency messages and he was determined not to let it rule his head. The big one. Brian Willoughby controlled his body. His body did not control him.
One of the many things he enjoyed was teasing Natalie nearly to the point of climax then backing off, time after time. When he was finally ready to give her relief, she was a sobbing, begging mess, ready to do anything if only he would let her come.
He reached between her thighs to find her clit, attaching the tiny butterfly vibrator that clamped onto the swollen bud. Natalie flinched but only slightly. Brian smiled to himself. She tried not to react but he always pinched hard enough to make that impossible. He enjoyed seeing her flinch.
For him, it was never about satisfying the sub. Her sexual needs were the least important thing. It was always about total control. She responded when he allowed her to. She climaxed when he permitted her to. His own sexual gratification came from the power he exerted over her and the ability to make her beg for climax. For Brian, power was the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Standing back, he pressed the button on a small remote in his hand and the butterfly began to hum busily. The muscles in Natalie’s body tightened and her body quivered under the onslaught of the vibrations. With her legs spread wide and her pussy exposed, he stared at the tender pink flesh, slick with her juices.
When he increased the speed of the tiny vibrator, Natalie’s breathing sped up in response. She was trapped, helpless, bound as she was, and in frustration she rocked her body. Brian leaned forward and touched her opening with the tip of his finger, knowing the muscles of her cunt were clenching over and over.
“Please,” she cried.
“Please what?”
“Please put your fingers inside me. Like you do.”
His laugh was more in satisfaction than humor. “Like this?” He slid two fingers easily into her spasming tunnel.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. “Like that.”
Just as quickly he pulled his hand away. She cried out in protest and he slapped one cheek of her ass with the flat of his hand, hard.
“Who decides when my fingers go inside you?” he demanded.
She sucked in a breath. “You do.”
“And what do you say when I take them out?”
“I-it would please me if you would leave them inside, Master.”
He slapped her buttocks again. “And if I choose not to finger-fuck you at all?”
“T-that is your decision.” She pushed against the pillows propping her up, her body shivering.
“Perhaps the little butterfly needs to move its wings faster.” He pressed the remote again and the sound of the humming increased.
“Oh, oh, oh!”
Brian saw the terrible battle she was waging trying not to squeeze her legs together. Her body shook with the onslaught of sensation and the pink of her cunt lips turned a darker rose. He didn’t even have to touch her to see she was soaking wet, her juices flowing copiously. Her trapped fists opened and closed spasmodically as she did her best to resist the stimulation of the vibrator.
And then, without warning, he turned it off.
Natalie’s entire body tensed with the absence of the stimulation and she turned her head, trying to see him.
“Sir?” she asked. “Master? Have I displeased you? I-I promise I will do my best not to come.”
Again he laughed. He could hear the conflict in her voice. On the one hand, she wanted the vibrator to do its worst again, yet on the other, she was afraid he would leave her suspended between arousal and completion. Sometimes he left her like that overnight, on her stomach with her legs separated by a spreader bar, wrists handcuffed to the headboard. Fastened to her clit, an invention of his very own, a vibrator that activated intermittently for very brief periods of time. When he woke the next morning, she would be in such an agony of arousal, she’d fuck him in the middle of downtown San Antonio if he told her to.
“No, you haven’t upset me. But I haven’t had the best of days. Making you aware of my control right now is the only thing taking the edge off. So we’re going to play with this little vibrator for a while, making sure that pussy of yours is good and hot and ready. Until you’re half out of your mind, needing that orgasm. And then, if you obey me and don’t come until I tell you to, I am going to take that plug out of your ass and drive my cock in there. Only then will I permit your orgasm. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Her voice broke on a half sob.
Brian rolled the tiny remote in his hand for a moment, watching Natalie, enjoying her distress, before pressing the “on” button again. It amused him for some time to vary the intensity of the little vibrator, as well as the length of time he left it on. He was careful to take her just to the edge each time, tease her by holding out the promise that perhaps this time she could tip over, and then haul her back. Sweat formed a thin sheen on his sub’s skin and her fists were clenched so tightly against her thighs, he was sure her nails dug into her palms.
The longer he watched, the more his cock and balls throbbed and the more he wanted to be inside her body. He was well aware that when he fucked her, it was an impersonal act. She was no more than a receptacle. The real pleasure, the most fulfillment, came from doing exactly what he was doing—controlling his sub. And when he was ready for his own release, to take her as hard as he could, in a way that let her know everything she was, every breath she took, was only because he permitted it. Her very existence depended on her pleasing him.
He’d been at it for nearly an hour, and Natalie was doing her best not to sob out loud, when he finally reached his own point of no return. Pulling the silver plug from her butt and tossing it on the floor, he discarded his sweatpants and rolled on a condom. Kneeling behind her on the bed, he checked with one long finger to see if any of the lube still coated her rectum. Satisfied that there was enough in there so he did no damage, he guided his shaft to her entrance.
Turning on the butterfly again, he grabbed her hips and plunged into her fully.
“Aaahhh!” she cried, the latex sheath exacerbating the spicy sting of the gel. “Oh god!”
“Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “I am your god, and don’t you forget it for one damn minute.”
He pounded into her as the little vibrator hummed and did its work, and Natalie clenched around him, shaking as she waited for the magic words.
Unbidden, as he drove into his sub over and over, came a vision of Fallon in this same position, her ass tipped up to receive him, her body crying for release.
“Goddamn it,” he ground out. And then he broke. “Now,” he hollered as he fell over the edge himself, exploding into her rear tunnel.
He came like a maniac, ejaculating again and again until he thought his balls would shrivel up and his dick would break. When he was finished at last, he felt completely drained, as if he’d just run a marathon. It took him a long moment to gather himself and pull out of the limp woman beneath him. And even longer until he was sure he was in full control of himself.
He entered the bathroom and turned on the water to fill the tub before releasing her from her bindings. Normally he concerned himself very little with aftercare, but just when he’d conditioned a sub not to expect it, to lie shivering and insecure until her body quieted again, he would throw her off balance with something like this. The unexpected kindness that kept the little flame of hope
alive. The hope that, if she bore the punishment, pleased him well, a reward would eventually come.
Brian lifted Natalie’s limp form and carried her into the bathroom. When the tub was full, he added a generous sprinkling of healing salts and lowered her into the water. The pleasing aroma was an unintended side effect. He wasn’t attending to her, just making sure that his toy was kept in good condition. It was all part of the mental environment he created. Everything—from pain to comfort, from pleasure to denial—was dispensed at his discretion, until his sub totally accepted the fact that her very existence depended on him.
Brian propped up her in the tub as he lathered a soft, fluffy cloth with soapsuds and proceeded to apply it slowly to every area of her body. He moved her this way and that, adjusting her as he bathed everything, from her breasts and nipples to her cunt and ass. No inch of skin, no orifice was left untended. At last, when he was satisfied, he flipped the switch to drain the water, lifted Natalie from the tub, and dried her slowly with a warm towel.
Finally he carried her into the bedroom, slipped a thin silk gown over her head and eased her into the bed.
“Are you coming to bed with me tonight?” There was no mistaking the slight hint of fear in her voice, as if she’d somehow displeased him and he was punishing her again.
He liked withholding his presence. It kept her off balance. But tonight he would share her bed, needing the feel of her body to wipe away the thoughts plaguing him.
“Not yet.” He tucked the covers under her chin. “Do you need something to help you relax?”
She shook her head. “No, Master. I’m fine.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s foolish to refuse something if you need it,” he reminded her. Sometimes she became so overwrought that only a mild sedative could ease her into sleep.
“I only need you,” she told him in a soft voice.
“And I’ll be here when you wake up. But I have some things to do first.”
Natalie closed her eyes and turned on her side. Brian flicked off the bedside lamp, leaving only a nightlight burning, and left the room, heading for his home gym downstairs. He needed to burn off enough of the residual rage so he could also sleep tonight.
