Commanding Casey

by Nicolina Martin

  When the door finally opens and I hear him in the hallway, I’m in my pajamas, cowering beneath my comforter. I’ve been reading about Native American tribes all evening and my anger over the slaughter of the innocent and the ongoing expropriation of their land makes my mind explode. At least it’s made me think of something else than the dick just entering our trailer.

  I dart out of bed and throw open the door. He is pulling off his snowy boots, his jacket already on the hanger.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” I sneer.

  Cole stops, looks me over. “That’s thirteen,” he says after a few moments.

  I freeze. What’s he on about? “Why do you treat me like shit? What’s with the cold fucking shoulder today? Do you know how that makes me feel after... after this morning?”

  He finishes pulling off his boots and puts them neatly on the shoe rack by the door. Pulls off his thick, insulated work pants. He’s taking his time. Slow on purpose.

  “God! Say something.”

  Finally, he’s done and stands, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s too many to count. I’m just gonna go with thirty.”

  I shake my head. “Thirty what?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  I take a step back when it dawns on me. He’s counting. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I take yet another step back, then I flee back into my bedroom and slam the door closed.

  “You’re making me count,” he shouts. “I’m not good with math. I’ll just round it up to forty.”

  My heart slams like mad in my chest as I push the bed to cover the door, hoping it will make him stay out. “I’m out, you shit! I’m not playing.”

  The door handle is pulled down. Released. I stare at it, transfixed. Then it’s pulled down again and the bed moves as he pushes at the door. I put my feet against the wall for leverage and push back with all my might, but to no use. The bed slides, the door opens, and there he stands, filling the whole doorway with his hulking presence.

  I shake as I take him in. He radiates danger, and it’s so fucking hot that it makes my insides liquefy.

  “I want to make one thing clear, Keagan. We are not friends. We are not gonna be lovers. I am not interested in a girlfriend. You are not to approach me in public. What happens inside these walls stay inside these walls. I will spank your ass tonight. And with your big mouth, you won’t be able to sit down for two days at least.”

  It feels as if all blood drains from my face. “You’re kidding,” I whisper.

  “I’ll be nice and give you a piece of advice,” he says as he moves in on me. “I suggest you keep quiet from now on.”

  My eyes dart around the room. Maybe if I leap over the bed, I’ll make it to the door? I shoot forward with one single thought in my mind.

  I need to get the fuck out of here.

  Chapter Nine

  Casey

  Cole darts forward and tackles me, slamming me to the bed as he wraps his arms around me.

  “No!” I twist and jerk, trying to get my arms free to no avail. It’s like trying to move a mountain. I kick ineffectively, hitting nothing. Finally, I lie flat with Cole straddling me, holding my arms over my head. I inhale to scream and he slams a hand over my mouth. All that comes out of me is a muffled moan.

  I stare at him in absolute terror. I went along with his games this morning, and it triggered something. I’m so stupid.

  Cole leans in, nose to nose, catching my gaze. “Casey.” His voice is stern, commanding. “Calm down.”

  I can’t get enough air. My nose thickens as tears begin to fall. Cole releases my wrists and I immediately grip his hand that covers my mouth, trying to get it off. He puts a finger to his lips.

  “Shh. Don’t scream. No screaming. Listen.” He releases the pressure slightly, testing me, shaking his head, his finger still on his lips.

  When he removes his hand, I inhale a long, shaky breath, holding his gaze. He doesn’t look angry, or dangerous. He looks amused. It gives me pause and I wait for him to continue.

  “Good girl.” His voice is suddenly graver, huskier, and a shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with fear. He fiddles with something behind his back, and then he holds up a wooden ruler.

  I widen my eyes and shake my head, but I have no control over my body. My mind might scream oh, hell no, but my pussy heats up in an instant.

  “Forty. Because I lost fucking count. From tonight, you will always ask permission to speak. I might grant it, or I might deny. It depends on what you need the most. Blabbering on about nonsense isn’t always best for you. Sometimes there is peace in silence. I told you there will be rules. You agreed but have chosen to disobey them and I will discipline you because this is what you need. Do you understand?”

  I’m so tense that I don’t know how to get air anymore. My head spins. Forty? Rules? How did this happen?

  “Casey?”

  I open my mouth, then snap it closed again, swallowing hard. No talking. Just let him...?

  He sits up and then steps off the bed, pulling the curtains to the little window closed. “Stand up, pull down your pants, and bend forward. You can support yourself on the bed if you need.”

  My breath hitches in my throat and I don’t know how I manage to make my limbs obey. I inhale to tell him that I’m new to this, that I have no idea what I’m agreeing to, but the warning look in his gaze makes me press my lips together. God. Okay. I give him one last glance, trying to gauge his mood, but his face might as well be carved in stone. My breath hitches as I turn and grip the waistband of my pajama pants, then I push, slowly, intentionally, teasingly slowly. I hear nothing but my own harsh breaths. When I have bared my ass, I take a step toward the bed and lean forward, gripping the bed frame. My stomach is in knots, and my pussy burns. I want him to touch me so bad that it chokes me.

  “You cannot scream. Do you understand this?”

  I nod, swallowing hard, already shaking from the uncomfortable position, and the shameless act.

  The sting comes without any warning and I yelp.

  “Casey. Shh.”

  I grit my teeth and await the next slap. He takes his time. I think the anticipation is worse than the actual pain. Then he lets loose a barrage of slaps, the ruler hitting my ass, warming my skin and then making it burn like a thousand suns. I lose count. Maybe fifteen. Finally, I scream at him to stop, and he does.

  He grips around my neck and twist my head a little until our eyes meet. Raising an eyebrow, there’s a question in his eyes. Does he need to stop? I don’t know. Then I shake my head and jut out my ass, inviting him to continue. The low growl he emits almost makes my knees fold. I grab my pillow and bury my face in it, waiting.

  “Twenty left. I won’t stop no matter what you say. Take the pain, own it, and think about what obedience means to you.”

  My stomach clenches. Then he smacks me again, harder, without pardon. It feels as if my skin comes off, the pain radiating up along my back, down my thighs, deep into my bones. When he stops, I float, as if gravity has ceased to exist on the spot where I stand. I sway. I think I’ll crumble, but then he catches me, puts his arms around me and pulls me into his lap. Wrapping the comforter around me, he cradles me like a baby. I have no anger left. His cock is hard against my bottom even through the fabric. I’m painfully aroused and I want him between my legs so bad.

  “Stop squirming. That’s not happening.”

  I freeze. ‘We’re not gonna be lovers.’

  “Permission to speak,” I whisper.

  His eyes are tender. I try to see if he’s turned on. He must be. I push my burning ass against his cock, teasing him, needing him.

  “Granted,” he says.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Holding you.”

  “But—”

  “Think hard, Casey. You have one more sentence you are allowed today. No more. Do you have something you want to get off your chest?”

  I’m so embarrassed that I can die. I can’t beg him for se
x. I won’t.

  “Never mind,” I mutter.

  “Okay.” He lifts me off him, plants a kiss on my forehead, and then stands. “3:59. Sharp. Tomorrow you will be naked.”

  And just like that my arousal flares up again. Fuck, I won’t sleep tonight again.

  * * *

  Cole

  I leave the trembling girl without looking back. The knowledge of her presence in the little room, her wide eyes and the smell of her hot pussy, burns in me, but I force my feet to move. I am not fucking her. This was punishment. Not amusement.

  I shower much longer than needed, fisting my rock-hard cock. I don’t need much imagination to picture myself pulling down my pants and thrusting it between those firm ass cheeks, ravaging her pussy. I wrap harder and stroke, seeing her lush mouth, seeing her on her knees before me, parting her lips, letting me fuck her throat until she chokes. I explode, the release almost making my knees buckle, the hot spurts of cum flushed away by the increasingly cooling water as shame grows inside.

  I’m lost. I’m fucking lost. Since the first moment I laid my eyes on her, standing in the snow outside the airport, I knew this was where it would end. I’ve fought to stay away, fought to hold her at arm’s length, but Max had to go and fuck it up by putting me in her trailer. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know my vices, he surely doesn’t know her vices.

  A girl with no attachments, hot as all hell, begging for someone to take charge, sharing a few square feet with a brute who has deprived himself of closeness, of sex, of the rush, for too long.

  That’s a perfect storm.

  It’s a disaster.

  I toss and turn. Listen to the clatter of water as she starts a shower, hearing her curse when she realizes it’s cold. I lost track of time. This time it wasn’t intentional. Finally, everything is quiet. In the far distance the eternal faint clanking sound from the front of the pipeline is heard. Through a sliver between my curtains I watch the falling snow.

  I wake as soon as I hear her feet in the hallway. Opening one eye, I peek at the clock, then I frown and look at the unmoving curtain. 3:30. When the bathroom door clicks closed I suddenly know what she’s up to, the little minx. She’s going to shower. Yesterday I took all the hot water, both in the morning and then again before bed. The realization that this crafty little thing is making up new ways to bend my rules makes blood rush to my cock in an instant. I told her to shower after I was done. I never told her she couldn’t also shower before she woke me. Sneaky.

  The water runs for way too long. She’s in severe trouble if that shower is cold when it’s my turn. I look at the clock. 3:55. It’s silent. 3:58. The door opens. 3:59, the curtain is pulled to the side. I close my eyes, feel her hand on my shoulder.

  “Cole.”

  I strike, grabbing her wrist, then I look her over. She is indeed naked, her skin flushed, and she smells of the flowery soap she uses. She is absolutely edible.

  “Did I allow you to speak?”

  Her eyes widen and she slaps a hand over her mouth. Good girl. She’s learning.

  “Did you use up the hot water?”

  She looks aghast, tries to take a step back, but I hold her in a vise grip.

  “Did you think you were clever?”

  “Permission to speak?” she whimpers.

  “Granted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and pull her with me. “Oh, trust me. You will be.”

  “What? No.” Her eyes widen as they dart along my body, taking in my naked state, my semi-hard cock that reacts from her mere gaze.

  I glance at the clock and tsk. “Three slaps in the first two minutes.”

  She lets out a groan.

  “Four.” I pull her toward the bathroom and shove her inside.

  “That wasn’t a word!”

  “Eight.”

  She snaps her mouth shut and stares at me in delightful horror. I reach for the knob and get the shower running, then I gesture for her to step inside. The water is indeed cold.

  “You’re not serious.”

  I count. This is getting messy. “Eleven.”

  She tries to pull her wrist out of my hand, digs her heels into the carpet. “Cole. No. I’m sorry!”

  “Every second you resist me will add to the count. If you think your ass burns today—” I shake my head. “Step inside, Casey. Now.” I push her, mildly, but with no remorse. She stumbles and then squeals as the water hits her, dancing and covering her chest with her arms. She darts forward, reaching for the knob, but I grab her arms and spin her around, holding her wrists in one of my hands on her back, admiring the blotted bruising and the horizontal red marks on her ass.

  Casey gasps and jerks, her skin developing goosebumps; her hair lies plastered over her face and she whimpers.

  “Are you sorry yet?”

  “Yes!”

  I freeze up and slam a hand over her mouth, thinking about how thin these walls are. Our... activities can not be heard, or we’re in deep shit. “Keep your voice down.” I pull her out of the shower, turn off the water and wrap a towel around her. I still circle her wrist and tug to make her follow me. She stumbles behind me, her teeth chattering loudly. I pull her into bed with me, wrap my arms around her and cover us with the comforter. She’s still in the towel, and it’s damp. I pinch it. “Get out of this.”

  Casey is stiff, shivering, little gasps escaping her, but she doesn’t speak, and she does obey. Wriggling, she manages to pull it off her and then drops the towel to the floor next to the bed. I swallow hard at the realization that I now have a naked woman next to me, in my bed, albeit cold as fuck, but desperately willing for me to touch her. I could spread her legs and push inside within a couple of seconds. It would be pure fucking heaven and would throw me right back to my own hell. I can’t go there. But I can touch. I haven’t made any rules to myself about touching. I only swore that I would never fuck a woman again. I didn’t forbid myself to play. Now I know I should have, because this will ruin me.

  She turns, her big brown eyes nearly doing me in with the pain in them, the desire, and all the questions she doesn’t dare to ask. I pull her to me, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  “Let’s get you warmed up.”

  She nods. No words.

  “Will you take all the hot water again?”

  She shakes her head. I kiss her wet hair and then push the soaked strands behind her ear.

  “Good girl.” I tuck her closer, her body flush against mine. She squirms, no doubt feeling my aching hard-on that pushes against her belly. It’ll stay there, no matter what. Between us. Skin on skin. But I’m not fucking her.

  Letting my hand slide lower, I caress her ass. It’s warm despite the rest of her skin still being cold. It makes me grin with delight. She took a good first spanking yesterday. I follow her hip, reveling in her smooth skin, down along her thigh, then I pull up her leg, draping it over my hip, giving me better access to the not-so-cold area between her legs. Casey lets out a soft mewl and arcs closer, rubbing against my cock. I hold my breath as I close in on her pussy, dragging my fingers along the silky inside of her thigh, feeling coarse hair, and her hot, slick, swollen folds. Casey gasps and pushes her breasts against my chest, jutting out her ass, giving me better access. I caress along her seam, parting her folds. She gets slicker, hotter as her breathing changes to little pants that she gasps out in rhythm with my rubbing up and down along her slit. My cock aches for her, pre-cum making it slide between our bellies. I rock my hips, unable to resist the friction, the pressure that builds, the need for release, for the bliss of a numbing orgasm.

  I fight it down as I push two fingers inside her in one rough thrust. Casey shoots up along my body, tensing, gasping, clutching my shoulders. I grab the hair at the back of her neck and tug her head back, force her to meet my gaze. Her eyes are dark and wide, her nostrils flare and her lips are clenched tightly together as she chokes down on the whimpers. I hold her gaze as I thrust. I’m frus
trated, desperate to plunge my cock deep into her pussy, shove her over on her back and fuck her until she won’t be able to stand for a week. Then I’d fuck her again, and again. I’d take her pretty little mouth, claim her tight ass, ravage her until she’d had it, until she can’t stand me anymore.

  Because that’s what I do. I claim. I take. I have a beast inside me that hasn’t been allowed out to play for a very long time. It destroyed my life. If I don’t keep it at bay, I’m doomed, and so is she.

  No drinking, and no fucking. Those are the rules I pledged myself to abide.

  That’s how it needs to be.

  I pull out my fingers, and she groans her disappointment. I take a firmer hold of her hair, tight enough to make her grimace. “You do what I tell you, when I tell you. You are mine, your body is mine, your mind is mine. Do you hear me?”

  She nods, her hips bucking, as if she’s trying to get the release I denied her.

  “You are not allowed to touch your pussy without my permission.”

  Her mouth falls open, as if she’s going to object. Then she snaps it closed again and swallows soundly, nodding.

  “You do not get up and shower before me. You do not speak to me outside of this trailer, unless it has strictly to do with the job. You don’t even look at me. I am not your friend. Do you hear me?”

  I make my voice stern, and close my heart tightly shut because the way her eyes gloss over does me in. I don’t want to hurt her, but this game can’t be more, and the sooner she knows it, the better. Some part of me hopes that if I’m enough of an ass, she’ll tell me to go fuck myself and end this for us. If I piss her off enough, maybe she will save me from myself when I can’t?