by Drew Sera
With her arms bound behind her back, I kept a hand on her hip to assist her with balance. My other hand had a field day tweaking her nipples that were prominently displayed between a diamond section of the rope. I wasn’t a gentleman with her nipples; I was myself. They were right there for me to touch, slap, tweak and bite. And I did all of it while high from Amy’s moans, yelps, whimpers.
“Oh! J...P...God...Your cock is so...thick.”
Amy’s voice wasn’t steady as she bounced on my lap. Even though she yelped and whimpered, she didn’t say anything about me being too rough. She was taking all that I was giving her, and she loved it.
I felt myself nearing my orgasm and pinched her nipple with all my strength. Amy cried out, writhing around on my cock and I shut my eyes. Her cries of discomfort sent me over the edge, and my cum shot from my cock into her warm, waiting cavern.
I held her still so she could feel my cock pulsate inside her and it only took seconds for her to come. Amy’s pussy gripped my cock, milking every drop of cum from me. As she started to settle on my lap, I pulled her against my chest.
Amy rested her head on my shoulder and buried her face in my neck. Her warm breath brushed my neck at a rapid pace as the sound of Anthony from the dungeon cell across from us caught my attention.
Over Amy’s shoulder, I had a perfect view of my little muse…and his fucking co-top partner. Anthony and Colin fucking Everett were playing with some sub, and Anthony was coming. His voice was raw, and I found it difficult to pull my attention away from him.
For a brief moment, I imagined what his neck would feel like in my hand as he comes. The tightness of the skin on his neck as he throws his head back would probably be one of the tightest necks I’ve ever felt. I could probably come just from feeling his vocal chords vibrate in my hands while sheer pleasure erupts from his soul.
His dark soul.
His dark soul that I knew existed.
Blake didn’t understand that I could help Anthony and give him what he needed. Anthony was a slave to that dark soul, but I could help set him free.
As Anthony pulled out of the sub, he took a few steps back and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Still semi-hard, his cock bobbed a bit. The sight of him naked in the dim light of the dungeon made me throb. Amy’s giggle caught my attention as I stroked her back.
“Thank you for giving me a glimpse of the dark, J.P.,” Amy said and then kissed my neck.
I watched Anthony rub that muscular chest of his as he watched Colin fucking Everett cuddle with the sub. Everett always had to handle the cuddles…Graves didn’t do the cuddle thing. Yet, every fucking woman here wanted to play with him.
Movement between Anthony’s cell and mine caught my eye. Blake was standing there, leaning against the stone pillar watching my scene with Amy...and watching me watching Anthony. I looked away from Blake and turned my head to kiss the side of Amy’s head.
“Oh, Amy, you have no idea what the dark really looks like,” I whispered.
For the days following Amy’s stay, I kept a close eye on her. She seemed to be doing fine from her first scene. Though it was mild to me, I’m fully aware that everyone reacts differently to scenes. With this being Amy’s very first scene, I paid extra close attention.
Physically, she seemed to be doing ok. Her nipples were a little on the raw and bruised side, but I took care of them over the past few days. The evening of the scene, she constantly played with some of the rope impressions while I gave her after care. I enjoyed the innocence of her as she ran her finger along the rope impressions left on her skin.
Amy also seemed to be doing well mentally and emotionally. She was struggling a bit with coming to terms with enjoying pain a bit. Amy adamantly denied liking pain, but when I pointed out how her body was betraying her, she’d see my point and began thinking about it.
I’ve made sure we’ve kept communication open, and a few times a day I make sure to start a conversation between us that would require her to really think about situations and what she wants.
On the last night of her visit, I talked to her about sub drop in great detail. We had had plenty of the sub drop conversations while she was writing Dark Kiss but I wanted her to understand that this could potentially happen to her. She was heading home tomorrow, and I wanted her not to ignore the signs of it or shrug off feelings.
“I need you to promise me that if you start feeling down or upset about something that you will call me, princess.”
“I will, J.P. I don’t think it’ll be an issue but you and I will continue to talk daily. I’ll be sure to bring it up if something doesn’t feel right.”
I woke her up with my hard cock before the sun was even up.
“Early bird catches the worm, princess,” I whispered in her ear before I pushed myself upright and nudged her body to roll over.
“Mmm, I don’t think I like worms,” she said sleepily.
“You like cock, and that’s what I have for you, my filthy, cock-hungry princess.”
I helped move her limp body into my favorite position; her head on the mattress and ass in the air. She was smiling through her bratty protests and got into position.
“Mmm, the sun isn’t even up yet,” Amy whined.
“Nope but my cock is, little princess.”
I shoved my cock deep into her pussy and held myself still as she moaned.
“Ohhh, J.P. You’re such a mean castle-hand,” she teased.
Castle-hand. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at her. New name for me. I sucked on my index finger to moisten it and pushed it into her ass.
“Ow! Oh, God! Mmm…oh…mmm.”
Her initial bratty bitching quickly turned into sweet, needy moans.
“The castle-hand knows what the princess wants and needs. He knows what she likes,” I said right before I slapped her ass hard.
“Mmm, I’m going to tell the King’s security that you’re doing dirty things to me.”
I really had only intended on fucking her this morning, but her mouth was turning me on and putting me in the mood to play just as I liked to play; rough and raw. Adrenaline flew through my body, and I was so turned on.
“I’m just giving the princess what she wants and needs.”
My bed was cold and lonely in the days that followed Amy’s visit. Her first bondage scene went well and I knew she’d continue to process it this week. Each evening we talked on the phone and I’m trying to gather how she’s doing. Even though it was tame for me, it was her very first. I was prepared when I got the phone call in the middle of the night from her upset and wondering if we were “okay.”
Loneliness can bring out uncertainties and sometimes thoughts that have no validity. But, a sub expressing these kind of questions is one that needs to be soothed, calmed, reassured. A sub with worries and doubt, is one that isn’t processing the right stuff. Therefore, she’s not fully taking in everything about the scene.
It was necessary to sit up in bed and give Amy my undivided attention. I knew she pondered for a while over calling me and by the time she did, she was in need of security and reassurance. She worried about what it meant for her not to find the pain that I gave her during our play as a turn-off. She’s caught up and worried about that fucking label; masochist.
Amy was also worried that she wasn’t going to be able to give me what I needed because she didn’t know what her tolerance for pain was. I told her that we would go slow and experiment carefully with pain. She seemed pleased with that but mentioned that maybe I should scene with others in between her visits while we’re trying to find her pain tolerance.
I knocked that idea out of the air while I was on the phone with her that night and even for a few days after. But as much as I didn’t want to admit, I needed to have a rough play scene.
Play, no sex.
I knew that communicating this to Amy needed to be done cautiously because she could view this need as being a sign that I couldn’t be happy with what she was able to give. I di
dn’t want her to worry, so I debated not telling her. By the end of the work day though, I decided to talk to her about it. Open communication was vital for our type of relationship and especially with the physical distance right now.
J.P.: Princess, will you be available to talk tonight?
Amy: Yes, Sir, my romantic sadist.
We arranged for a phone call, and I carefully explained that I was going to go to Irons and possibly have a scene. I wanted it abundantly clear that I would not be having sex. And there was even a chance that the heavy-handed scene I was seeking may not even happen.
“Okay, I understand. It’s fine. I told you that you need to feel that you can still do that if you need to,” her sweet voice filled my ears.
“It’s not for sex, Amy.”
“I know.”
“How about I call you when I get home?”
“J.P., please don’t feel like you have to call. It’ll be late, and I’m not your keeper. It will be fine, and we can talk tomorrow.”
I considered her words carefully before choosing mine. Amy and I have had many conversations about how we hate when people only say what they think is expected.
We promised we’d never do that, so I had to take her words as her honest thoughts and feelings on the matter.
“I will send you a text to let you know when I make it home,” I promised.
“That sounds fine. I hope you have a great time and leave some nice marks on someone who wants them.”
We ended our call, and I gathered my toy bag and headed to Irons. I was feeling really good about tonight and cranked my stereo when one of my favorite songs came on; “Mama” by Genesis. The mood even struck me right to sing along a bit.
“Now I can’t keep you, mama…But I know you’re always there…You listen, you teach me, mama…And I know inside you care…So get down, down here beside me…Oh, you ain’t going nowhere…No I won’t hurt you, mama…But it’s getting so hard.”
I hit repeat and played it over and over until I pulled into the parking lot. As I pulled into a spot, I noticed a few guys gathered around the back of a new car.
“Damn, someone got a nice set of fucking wheels,” I said out loud as I grabbed my toy bag and got out of my car.
The car enthusiast in me took over as my eyes slid over the sleek body.
The car really wasn’t just a car; it was a machine. It was a sleek as fuck dark blue BMW M6 coupe. The letter “M” in front of the number represented a whole different world of a car. This thing comes with nearly 600 horses sitting quietly in its’ V8. The engine was the beautiful work of BMW on steroids and cocaine. An “M” series BMW was a gentleman’s machine. A man who drives that most likely wears a suit and carries the badass “don’t fuck with me persona.”
As I rounded the back of my car on my way to talk with the guys and get a closer look at the dragon on wheels, I stopped.
I quickly surveyed the guys in the parking lot. Colin fucking Everett was there along with Anthony, Will, and Blake. The parking lot already had Will’s Cadillac, Blake’s Mercedes and Everett’s fucking special edition BMW.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It’s was Anthony’s new car.
Too many thoughts pissed me off instantly, but Blake’s voice pulled me from them.
“Evening, Paul,” Blake called out and held his hand in the air to greet me.
Will and Anthony turned to look in my direction, but that smug ass fucking Everett didn’t even bother turning. Will shouted out a greeting but Anthony said nothing. He couldn’t even fucking say hello. Of course, I shouldn’t have expected anything since he’s best friends with Everett.
Maybe he’s Everett’s submissive after all and only following directions.
No, that’s not it. Graves wasn’t his submissive. I had to get that thought out of my head because that was quickly sending me racing for the edge.
I nodded and headed towards the club door as I heard them talk specs on the fucking beast. Now the fucking Prince of Irons had a badass BMW just like his fucking co-top partner. Fucking Golden boy.
I focused on the floor in the lobby as I waited to check in. Looking upward would have indicated that I was in the mood for conversation...which I most certainly was not. I signed in and handed my toy bag over the counter to the club slaves and made my way to the bar.
I knew better than to negotiate a scene right now because I was spitting mad. Where did he get his money? Fucking prince. He had money before meeting Everett and going to work for him. Which left his daddy.
Glancing over my shoulder, I surveyed what my options were for that heavy-handed scene that I was desperate for. There were just a few women over in the unattached sub area. Too delicate.
“Warren, a Coke with lots of ice, please.”
The voice of the man I’d love to have under my grip casually said as he sat down at the bar. I sat on the corner seat, facing the long, center bar top and the Prince of Irons just sat his arrogant ass down three barstools away from me.
He didn’t look my way or even acknowledge that I existed. Can’t he just fucking say hello? It’s probably Everett’s doing. As Anthony sipped his Coke, I watched his throat move as he swallowed. Fuck, to feel that throat move in my hand. The thought gave me chills.
Yet he wouldn’t even look at me.
“Nice car,” I said loud enough for him to hear.
I knew he could hear me because there were hardly any people around. It was deep into the evening, and many scenes were already taking place and had been negotiated. I wasn’t going to be ignored by this selfish fuck.
“Graves, I’m talking to you.”
The obnoxious fuck kept his head facing forward staring at the bottles of liquor lining the shelf behind the bartender. He took a long sip, swallowed and set the glass down slowly on the bar, then he turned his head and glared at me.
If I was smart and played my cards right with him, I still might be able to talk him into a physical beating session. Not tonight, of course, but in the future. Because if there was ever a man who deserved a beating to take him down a notch, it’s Graves.
“Nice car, man.”
He nodded and said, “Thanks,” then picked his glass up again.
“It’s quite the car,” I said, hoping for a conversation.
He nodded. Just nodded. Who the fuck gets that kind of car and just nods about it? Was he that ungrateful? Did he not even realize what he has sitting in the parking lot? Was he just so self-absorbed that he didn’t even want to talk to me?
We weren’t done talking.
“Is it brand new?” I asked.
I saw the BMW dealership temporary plate tag, so I knew he didn’t buy it off some used car lot. But it could be pre-owned. Though very doubtful.
Anthony’s response was just another fucking nod. The fucking prince was pissing me off. Time to toss a little irritant in his face.
“Doesn’t Everett need you for a scene tonight?” I asked casually.
I worded it that way to get a reaction out of him. Instead of asking if they were doing a co-topping scene where both of them sounded as equal components to the scene, my phrasing made it sound like Everett was in charge, and that Graves simply appeared when Everett needed him. And my phrasing got the exact reaction I wanted.
“We decide when we’re doing a scene,” he stated in a matter of fact tone.
Perfect.
I made a pacifying “o” with my mouth and nodded condescendingly. Then I gave him a look of, “Okay, if you say so.”
I was under his skin now, and perhaps he was even thinking about what I was saying and if there was truth to it.
“So, no scene tonight for the popular Dom with a new car in the parking lot,” I said and took a drink from my beer bottle. “What’s wrong? Dick too sore from sitting in that street hugging car of yours and feeling every groove in the road?”
Come on, Graves...let me see your fire...come on.
Anthony slowly took a sip from his glass and smiled when
he set it down.
“My dick is just fine.” He turned to look at me and with that obnoxious smirk on his face, he said, “I don’t feel any vibrations in the road. That car floats and feels like a cloud.” He guided the glass to his lips and drained it. “I don’t feel anything but power in my hands when I drive it. Power that makes your Challenger look like one of the Hot Wheels.” He tilted the glass back again letting ice fall into that mouth...that mouth that needed to learn. “I’m sorry to hear you end up with a numb dick while driving your car.”
The sparks were all lit, and the fire was simmering.
“How much did that set you back, if you don’t mind my asking?” I calmly asked.
I knew this prick had money and that it probably was a drop in the bucket for him.
“One fifty,” he said and took more ice from his glass and chomped on it loudly.
“Forgive me; I meant to ask how much it set the fund from your daddy back.”
He firmly set the glass on the bar top, and his head spun to look at me. Fire burned in his eyes and made my insides tingle with excitement.
“That’s right; I know your daddy left you lots of money. And I know that you still ache for him and miss him.” His eyes softened, but the fire was still there. Now was my chance. “Remember, I can help make that ache go away. Open door invite, Graves. Don’t deny yourself what you need because others would view it as unacceptable. You need it and want it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you miss daddy and have those aches.” I took another slow sip from my bottle. He was listening. “I know you’re scared that you might discover that you like it. And realize you need it. You need discipline. Obviously, your daddy never disciplined you.” I laughed out loud. “I remember hitting you with a belt all those years ago. You were so shocked, as if no one had ever raised their hand to you—”
“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” he interrupted me with his snarl.
Fire glowed in those gray eyes of his and his fist was clenched on the bar top. I glanced at his neck and could see the corded vein prominently pressed against the skin I wanted in my grip. He was an upset, angry little Prince of Irons.
