Cherry Bomb

by J.W. Phillips

  “Music suddenly filled the room.” His eyes remained closed. “I couldn’t see or move, but damn, I could feel. I felt amazing. She started trailing something soft over my body. I was suddenly aware of every nerve ending I had. This time she worked back down over my chest and to my waistband. She popped the button and released my dick. I was about to come and she hadn’t even touched me yet. Her naked body skimmed over mine as she dropped to her knees. She did these little circular motions over the head of my cock with her tongue. I was a non-responsive, quivering wreck.”

  I moaned causing his eyes to pop open. His lips lifted into a sinister smile when he saw how I was sprawled out in my chair.

  “I think you get the idea,” he said and bit his lip.

  I was sure it was to keep from laughing at me as I sat adjusting my clothes in some sort of presentable fashion.

  “Any more questions?” he asked.

  “You only want this? No vanilla?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Webb. Don’t you? In BDSM, you’re free to be yourself sexually. This is, I need a woman to be submissive. I love to dominate. It makes me feel like a true protector and nurturer. The way a man should be.” Sir never shifted his eyes from mine. It was his Dom glare. Cold. Hard. Sexy as all get-out. I cracked, picked up the glass of water, and took a sip of it causing us to break eye contact.

  “Couldn’t you be all that in a vanilla relationship?”

  He tilted his head and pouted his bottom lip, pondering the question. “I suppose so,” he suddenly said. “But humans are all shapes and sizes. We’re not one size fits all. So why should our sex life be?” He arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever thought of walking on the wild side, Mrs. Webb? I will gladly be your guide.”

  My panties instantly damped. “I don’t think so. A spanking is not my thing.”

  “What is your thing?”

  “Not a beating, that’s for sure.” I shifted in my chair and frowned.

  “Ninety percent of BDSM is all about sharing a sexual experience. Yes, there are those who choose to live the Master-slave lifestyle. To each their own. However, there are couples out there that live that way only it’s forced, not consensual. So who are really the freaks?”

  “You are against abuse are you not?”

  “Abuse is a hard subject for me. Someone I care about was brutally forced. I would never want what I enjoy ever classified in the same category as that. What I thrive on is the give and take of each other’s trust. It’s not all riding crops or leather floggers. Good God, would you ask someone that wants to try lifting weights to lift a large amount on day one? You build up to that. It’s all trial and error. And the error can be fun too. Most importantly, it’s always consensual. I don’t think most vanilla sexual relationships have the same level of communication, trust, or honesty that a BDSM relationship has. Why? Because BDSM relies on it. It’s a given.”

  My mind went blank and luckily a waiter approached us. It was easy to tell that Sir was regarded as a celebrity within the walls of the Pier. He explained that The Dungeon hosted mixers there weekly and a few other gatherings from time to time. His brother actually owned a few shares in the company.

  “Will you take a walk with me?” He stood and held out his hand. I’d hardly touched the food, but a walk along the waterfront with him was more appealing. I nodded and placed my hand in his.

  Drake Hart

  I led her out to the edge of the Mississippi River where The Pier had built a long dock; which spanned the entire edge of the property. My stomach was still grumbling from all the food I had left on the table. However, the way she was working that tongue around her fork at dinner, and the submissive way she was cutting her eyes up at me, my safest bet was to leave. All I could imagine doing was tying her to the cross at the dungeon and showing her how amazing my lifestyle was. Showing is always better than telling anyway.

  “How did you learn you were a Master?” she asked and slipped her hand in mine. It felt right. I had never been one for the romantic gesture. But as a Dom, I learned to give the sub what she needed. Cherry needed that.

  “It’s not something you learn. It’s something you are. You would be an amazing sub.”

  "Am I that weak?"

  "A woman that can totally submit to another is the strongest woman there is." I turned, bringing my face within a breath of hers and pushed the hair off her face. “Cherry, as a sub, you would have all the say. It takes an untold amount of strength to give it freely to her master without question.”

  "How is that?" she whispered, her eyes closed tightly, and she shivered at my side.

  "Because before you can give yourself fully to someone, you have to know your worth. You’re very strong. You just don’t realize it. Who hurt you?"

  She halted, jerking my arm with the force of her hand. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I’m very good at judging people. I can tell someone has stolen the part of you that makes you see how precious and beautiful you really are.”

  She sat down on a nearby bench and looked out over the waves. “I recently discovered the man I’ve been married to since I was twenty had been screwing everything with two legs and willing; including my so called best friend.”

  “Your boss?”

  She shook her head and scrunched up that cute little nose of hers. Holy hell, cute. I never think anything is cute.

  “No, why would you say that?”

  She held her head down in obvious shame. It infuriated me. I was there to help the bastard who caused that look. I needed to get myself back on track. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at it and saw my brother’s name flash on the screen. Turning toward Cherry, I held up a finger. “I have to take this.”

  I got up and walked a safe distance from Cherry before spitting, “Hello,” into the cellphone.

  “Shithead,” Billy said. I was not in the mood. I had what I needed, waiting for me on the edge of the mighty Mississippi.

  “What?” I asked and waved over to Cherry who was sitting on a deck, overlooking the water.

  “I need you to go to New York next week?”

  “Why?”

  “To be a chorus boy. A job. Why else?” Billy said.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ve run into some unseen complications.”

  “Is this complication a she or a thing?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  I pushed end on the phone, tossed it onto the ground, and sat down on the edge of the shore to look out over the horizon.

  All women were the same. They were no more than a job for me. We meet, they fall to their knees, and I get my evidence. I sure as hell didn’t let feelings get involved with even the hottest of them. So I couldn’t figure out why Cherry was so different. I felt a hand on my shoulder and a body slip down beside me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really.” I tried composing my dominant persona. It didn’t quite work. Cherry made it easy to let my guard down and truly be myself. She started trailing her hand up and down my back. Fuck, it felt good. I felt myself leaning into her. Shit, get it together, Drake. “Tomorrow night, the Dungeon will be empty. Can I show you around?”

  “Yeah. I need to get home anyway. I have a Chamber Coffee to cover at seven in the morning.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  I did something I’ve never done before. I laid my head over on hers.

  “I really need to go.” She took my hand in hers. “Will you show me what it’s like to be your sub tomorrow night, Master?”

  The sound of Master rolling off her lips was enough to cause my cock to rise to a full erection. I could never give her what she really needed, a man that she could lean upon, but I’d give her a night she’d never forget. “Meet me at eight in front of The Dungeon. Plan to stay awhile.”

  She got up and swept the dirt from her pants. After she kissed me on the top of the head, she walked away without a word. I sat there long after she left, pondering my future. Something told me that my life was a
bout to change forever.

  Cherry Webb

  I sat in the middle of my living room stroking a large white box with an over-the-top red bow. I was completely giddy at the thought that my ex-husband was leaving after picking up the kids, when Sir’s security guard dropped it off. I was a little timid about opening it though. I picked up the card taped to the top and read it.

  Mrs. Webb, the last two nights have been medicine to my all-too-damaged soul. Tonight, I don’t plan on talking, but showing. Come ready for a night I hope you never forget. Until then, D

  My heart sunk to my groin. He didn’t sign it Sir, but D. It was not his name, but it was one step closer to breaking through to the prize that was Master. I carefully opened it, trying not to mess up the perfectly placed bow. Inside was a red halter dress. I picked it up to inspect the fine bead work on the bodice when I discovered a black lace, see-through bra and panties set. I examined them, shocked they were the correct size for my large frame. Tucked into a pair of six-inch heels was another note. I traced my index finger over what was obvious male handwriting. It was bold, masculine, and sensual, just like the man who wrote it.

  You would be simply magnificent in a cotton tee-shirt and yoga pants. I want you to feel as beautiful as you are. Please wear them tonight. At least for a little while.

  I took out the heels and tried them on. I wobbled and felt like a newborn calf. I was far from graceful and beautiful, but Sir went a long way toward showing me differently.

  I called Amy to inform her I would have my interview written and on her desk in less than two days. But the truth was I wanted someone to know I was meeting him at The Dungeon that night. Safety was the first rule I was taught in journalism. She shrilled and she didn’t even know what I was truly planning on doing with him.

  I spent the rest of the day writing and then editing, which I dreaded, my article. Just listening to Sir’s smooth, lyrical voice on my recorder caused lust to pool dark and dangerous in the little black panties Sir sent me. It had been so long since I felt anything; it was strange how he affected me.

  I had to quell the ever-growing tension in me. So I spent the remainder of the day, showering, shaving twice, washing my hair, and then spent a good hour drying and styling it so that it fell in thick, soft curls down my back. Thanks to James insisting that I stayed perfectly put together the last sixteen years, I was a pro at makeup. That night, I wanted to appear more polished than ever. I think I hit the mark too, even I could see I was somewhat hot.

  I took the ex-husband’s corvette that I had made sure to ask for in the divorce. It was the first time I had ever driven it, but something about high heels and a sports car gets the juices flowing. I even caught myself rubbing my thighs together on the ride over to meet Sir. As soon as I shifted into park at The Dungeon, the cellphone vibrated in my cup holder.

  Master: Go through the front door

  It will lock behind you

  Take the stairs to the right

  At the top of them turn left

  I held my phone in my hands, making sure I followed each direction correctly. Sir was right. Anticipation was the biggest aphrodisiac. Lust bubbled through my veins. I could no longer deny it; I was wet and totally aroused. I’d never felt so turned on even when James was actively fucking me. I got to the top of the stairs, turned left, and almost slammed into a door.

  “Come in,” I heard Sir say from a distance.

  I cautiously opened the door and stepped into what appeared to be a padded room. I jumped and dropped the cellphone at the sound of the lock snapping closed. It was dark, but well over a hundred candles glowed within the gloomy walls. I never saw Sir, just suddenly felt his solid body at my back and his breath swishing down my neck. My heart raced in my chest until he slid his arms around my waist. His lips worked over the contour of my ear causing a shiver to prickle down my spine. “You’re too fucking perfect,” he purred, skimming his lips down the base of my neck.

  I gasped, feeling his erection throbbing through his jeans, and pulsating against my ass cheek. He stepped back and started to unzip my dress. I was completely his to control.

  “Think of a word you won’t forget,” he said and slipped the dress off my shoulder, letting it pool on the ground.

  However, the soft sound of his voice lured me in until I didn’t notice I stood exposed in only the underwear, he had delivered earlier to my home. I felt his index finger trail a slow, definite stroke down the center of my spine, causing my head to roll freely.

  “Word, beautiful.”

  “Why?”

  I started to turn around, but he gripped my shoulders, stopping me. I couldn’t even turn my head. I wanted to do nothing that Sir might consider defiant.

  “Because you need a safe word if you want me to stop.”

  “Do your subs often use one?”

  My eyelids fluttered before I closed them.

  “I’ve never had a sub use one before. As an experienced Dom, I thrive on reading my sub’s body. A true Dom will stop long before a safe word is needed, but I need you to know you have the power to stop everything.”

  “Red,” slipped out of my lips as he gathered my hands together. The rope that he used to bind them was soft and felt of silk.

  Everything went dark as he pressed a scrap of red material over my eyes. Encased in complete darkness, I was aware of nothing but his touch. He was gentle. Almost too gentle, as if he was frightened he would chase me away. Then he was gone. I twirled around and around trying to find him. He was nowhere to be found. The wait was crippling. I started to hyperventilate then suddenly the room was filled with the sounds of Nine Inch Nail’s Closer. My heart beat in rhythm with that awful music. However, a single tear fell down my cheek. Something told me Sir could have written the words to that very song. He was possibly more depraved than I even dreamed. No matter what the state of his mind was, my body craved his return.

  I didn’t sense him anywhere around me until I felt his hands skim the band on my panties. His touch sent an electric current through me. I tasted the juice of a cherry as he ran it across my lips.

  “I’ve always loved the taste of cherries, and tonight, I get to taste the most delectable cherry of them all.”

  I no longer felt the cherry upon my lips, but I soon tasted it as Sir kissed me and swished the cherry from his mouth to mine. I took three steps back at the intrusion, and bumped into something soft. He shoved me back. I realized it was a bed. My back was lying against my hands and the downy softness of a mattress when I first felt his lips smooth over the plains of my stomach. He untied my hands only to retie them almost instantly to what I assumed were the bedpost. He kissed me hard and furiously, and I was almost positive I would still be able to feel his stubble jaw, rough and heavy against my face the next day. His broad chest rose and fell as he nudged his hand over the wet spot on my panties.

  “Damn, you’re too much, Mrs. Webb. Already wet and I’ve just gotten started,” he whispered as he worked the pad of one of his fingers under the panties I was wearing and over my clit. I opened my mouth to speak, but a moan escaped instead.

  He brought his hand to my face and caressed my cheek. “Taste yourself. See what exquisiteness I get to savor tonight.” He placed his finger on my lip. Drawing his index finger into my mouth, I wrapped my lips tightly around it, sucking hard. Sir breathed out forcibly. He gently tugged my hair, angling my head, giving himself easy access to my neck. He nestled his mouth against the vein pulsing in apprehension.

  “What’s your safe word?” Sir whispered against my skin as he worked down to take a nip at the budding nipple on my left breast.

  “Red,” I groaned out between moans as he cut the bra away from my body. I, then, felt a vibration glide over my sensitive breast. Fear enveloped me. I was not ready for the pain part of his games.

  I heard the gadget fall to the bed beside my head.

  “These do look stunning on, but you’re not going to need them anytime soon.” He swept the panties down my legs a
s if they were an unwanted guest.

  I wanted to smile, but simply couldn’t make my lips cooperate. I was deafened by the erratic beating of my own heart as the blood pounded against my eardrums. His long fingers stroked down the entire length of my leg before tying my feet to what I suspected was the foot post. I was laid out spread eagle on a bed and never felt more assured of myself. I could picture Sir standing over me smiling. The thought made me only wetter. I sighed.

  Suddenly, I felt something unbelievably soft being languidly dragged down between my legs. It was a feather. Sir was rubbing a feather deliberately slow over my stomach and around my aroused nipples. I tried to anticipate where he was going next, but between the music blaring in my ears and the beating of my heart . . . my mind couldn’t concentrate. Sir pulled the feather along the line of my groin, and yanked a strand of my pubic hair.

  “I like this. You need to keep it. It shows how much of a woman you are.” He leaned in and spoke in to my ear then kissed the tip of my nose.

  The sound of music was transformed into sounds of nature. My mind was briefly preoccupied by the rustling of wind and chirping of birds until the feather running over my body was replaced by the motion of a vibrator flowing over my skin and heightened nerve endings. It was all too much, between the ethereal sounds of nature playing in my ear and the soft feel of the vibration dragging across my skin.

  “Oh, Cherry, you’re flawless. I wish you could see how truly beautiful you are. I want to kiss every inch of your skin.”

  I thought of his crystal blue eyes as he first pushed the wand inside of me and kneaded his fingers deep into my left breast. The vibrations rocked my body, sending shivering pleasure through me. He pushed my legs father apart before moving to straddle my right thigh. I heard him swallow hard, making me clench around the dildo in response. He moved his hands to cup my breast all the while holding the vibrator in me with his knee.