by Terry Towers
I did as told without hesitation, spreading myself a little wider. The coolness of the bathroom air teased my exposed pussy. I couldn’t let my modesty get in the way of what I’d determined to be my more important mission, although I wasn’t sure what was more detrimental to me at this point, my reaction to him or my modesty.
“How long have you been doing this, Sir?” I asked just as he placed the razor at the top of my mound, at the hairline. He paused the razor on my flesh and looked up, catching my gaze.
His brow furrowed. “Shaving pussy?”
I blushed – I couldn’t help it. It was still going to take some time to get used to his blunt language. “No, like, kidnapping and training women.”
He sighed and lowered his eyes to the task at hand. He brought the razor down, removing the hair. He continued with a second and third strip of hair. Each time he ran the razor along me, my body trembled. By the end of the third stroke, my mound was halfway bare and a dampness was forming at my entrance.
“A long time, Emily.” He spread some more shaving cream on the unshaved areas, which just happened to be on the sides of my pussy lips and hood. As he spread the cream, his finger rubbed against my clit and I inhaled sharply, my hands fisting at my sides.
“Y-you don’t l-look that old. Can’t be that long.” He slid his fingers between my moist folds again, keeping the flesh taut but also torturing me in a way I can’t say I hated, even though I wished I did. I knew he could feel me trembling, and from the smirk that was beginning to form on his lips, I suspected he knew why. In fact, he seemed to be purposely teasing me, his fingers stroking my clit with each pass of the razor.
“Long enough.” He took a final swipe of the razor, leaving me bare. As I watched him clean me off, I had to admit I liked the way I looked bare. It made me feel strangely sexy. Messed up, I know, but it did. He wordlessly put the razor and cream away, and when he stood I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans.
The ache between my legs intensified and I closed my eyes as I turned my head away. “So? We’re good.” I needed to distract myself. My head still ached because of him. I needed to focus on the pain – the pain he’d caused me.
“Not quite.”
I yelped when he grabbed me by the hips and pulled my bottom closer to the edge of the counter. My eyes flew open as I watched him kneel before me and place a kiss on my left knee. A part of me screamed to pull away and not let what I thought was going to take place happen, but the realization only fuelled the need within me.
His kisses worked their way higher on my inner thigh. “Wha-what are you doing?” I attempted to pull away, but it was a half-assed effort at best. His hands on my hips kept me rooted exactly where he wanted me.
It’s going to happen regardless of whether I want it to or not, so why not enjoy it, I reasoned.
He lifted his eyes and his smile widened. “I think you know.” He didn’t wait for a reply, although one hand left my hips and began to stroke my slit, from my ass to my clit, taking a moment to tease my swollen nub with each pass. With every inch his lips moved up on my inner thigh, the ache between my legs increased, and I began to squirm, no longer to get away but to help relieve the tension between my legs.
When his lips reached the apex between my thighs, he stopped and looked up again. The hunger in his dark eyes sent a tremor through me. I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning.
“What? You’re not going to beg me to stop? You’re not going to try to get away?”
I shook my head. “No. What would be the point, Master?”
“Or maybe you want me to.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to my mound. “Maybe you want to feel my lips on you. Perhaps…” He spread my lips wide, exposing my clit, and his tongue lashed out, flicking at it. “You liked what I did to you earlier today and want more.”
He nipped at my clit and I cried out, one of my hands grasping the back of his head, burying my fingers in his dark hair and urging him for more. “No. I don’t—”
“I told you already, don’t ever lie to me.”
Chapter 8
Tanner
I thrust a finger into Emily as I flicked her clit with my tongue once again. She moaned. She’d been holding back, but as I stroked her core and teased her clit she was quickly losing all resistance. She could lie to me all she wanted, but she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to me as her hand on my head urged me to continue what I was doing, or the wetness that had formed between her legs in preparation for me.
My cock was getting bothersome, straining against my jeans. I’d denied myself earlier that day, but refused to deny myself tonight. I didn’t plan on fucking her – not yet. But I was going to get relief. Pulling my finger from her core, I licked the length of her slit before standing.
Her eyes were closed and she was leaning against the cracked mirror, her lips slightly parted and her chest heaving. It took a second for her to register the fact that I was no longer kneeling between her legs. She frowned as she opened her eyes and peered up at me, the lust and need in her dark eyes making my cock jerk in my pants.
“I don’t understand…” She sat up straight and continued to stare up at me, her eyes questioning.
“If you want to come, then there’s a price for that.” Grabbing her hips, I lifted her from the countertop and set her on her feet, then led her into the main room and over to the bed. Fuck, it was taking every ounce of restraint I had in me not to pull out my cock, bend her over the bed and fuck her until she collapsed from exhaustion. Normally I wouldn’t have held back now that I’d decided I was going to have her, but in the interests of not fucking up this new strategy…
“What kind of price? I thought…”
I motioned toward the bed. “Sit down.”
The image of her on her knees praying flashed into my mind. She started to sit and I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I’ve changed my mind. On your knees.” I’m a sacrilegious motherfucker and quite okay with that. Hell, if I could handle listening to gospel music I’d have had her hum a hymn while sucking me off – still might, just not tonight.
She hesitated, but wordlessly did as told, the gentle trembles her body made telling me all I needed to know. She was a long way from trusting me, but despite what I’d previously told her, I’m a patient man.
I ran my fingers through her chestnut-coloured, satiny locks, the smell of the strawberry-scented shampoo I’d supplied her with drifting to my nose. I was glad I didn’t have to tell her to shower each day. Some bitches would think that not showering would be some sort of annoying rebellion; an inconvenience to me. It only took a couple of baths with me holding them under the water until they nearly drowned for them to change their mind right fuckin’ rickety-tick.
Looking up at me from her position at my feet, she waited for her next instruction, eyeing me intently as I pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it onto the bed behind her. “Have you touched a man’s cock before?”
A mix of fear and curiosity flashed in her eyes. “No, Master. I don’t—”
“Then this will be another first for you. And you can.” And I liked it. No, loved it. I’d be the only man she’d ever know, the only one who would know her… I stopped my line of thinking right there before I got too carried away. I wouldn’t be the only, I’d be the first.
First, NOT only.
“Master?” She reached up and touched my stomach, her index finger tracing the lines of my abdominals. She paused at one of the many scars my body possessed. My flesh carried with it the history of my life as a trainer, not something I talked about to anyone – ever.
Giving my head a shake to clear my thoughts, I focused my attention back onto her. “Undo my belt and jeans. Take me in your hand.”
Her eyes remained fixated on the largest scar along my left side as she traced it. “What happened to you?”
“None of your concern. Now do as you’re told.”
It looked as though she was about to protest
again, but after a moment her hands grasped my belt and slowly pulled it open. She fumbled with the button on my jeans, but managed and pulled down the zipper. With no briefs to contain it, my cock sprang out, standing full and ready. I’d been suffering since I’d stepped foot into her room. Hell, most of the day because of her. It was time to get my relief.
Hooking her fingers into the belt loops on my jeans, she tugged them down to the floor. I chuckled, stepping out of the jeans and kicking them off to the side. “Well, sweetheart, I appreciate you taking the initiative.” She looked up and smiled. What she did next shocked the living shit out of me.
Standing, she pressed her naked body against mine and as she grasped my cock in her hand she slid the other hand up my chest around my neck and urged my head down until her lips touched mine. I inhaled sharply as she tightened her grip on me and stroked my shaft.
“Did I say you could stand up?” I asked, before slipping my arms around her and pulling her tightly to me.
“No, Master.” She thrust her tongue out, tracing my lower lip.
I was still trying to process what was going on. This wasn’t the plan. I hadn’t kissed her since that first night at the club, and there was a reason for it, but I couldn’t resist her. I was the captor, but at the particular moment in time I was the one being controlled. As her lips parted, I took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She moaned against my lips and melted into me, her hand stroking me harder and quicker. My mind was beginning to lose hold as my body and urges took control.
She was supposed to be on her knees sucking me off, but instead I was picking her up and laying her down onto the mattress, my body covering hers, indulging in the softness of her lips and eagerness of her tongue as it danced with mine. My hand slid between us, cupping her breast and gently kneading it, pinching her nipple and turning it into a hardened peak. While in the back of my mind there was a voice chanting that giving her control was dangerous, her soft body and the hand that wrapped itself around my cock once again persuaded me otherwise.
I flipped onto my back, taking her with me as my lips left hers and began to work their way down the side of her neck. I wanted to claim her, explore her, devour every inch of her pure body. Kissing and biting at the sensitive flesh, my bites leaving indentations in her ivory skin, my lips and teeth continued their travels down her neck, but she didn’t scream or attempt to get away.
I had to stop this or I’d be fucking her within minutes. Really not part of the plan for the night. Slipping a hand into her hair, I fisted her locks and yanked her head back roughly. She cried out.
Mmmm, yes. That’s more like it. Scream for me! I didn’t need the moans of pleasure; I needed the screams and the fight.
“You’re not in control, love,” I growled. Never let them have control. Never. It’s a cardinal fucking rule.
“Tanner?” A single tear ran down her cheek. With all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the fact that I’d hurt her head when I slammed it against the mirror. Fuck. It was her own goddammed fault – had she stayed on her knees like she’d been told I wouldn’t have had to hurt her.
Her own fucking fault, I told myself a second time.
“Turn around and suck my cock until I come, slave, and I want you to swallow every drop.”
She released me and began to turn. She wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking. Grabbing her ass, I positioned her over me in the 69 position and pulled her pussy toward me.
“Master?”
My hand pulled back and came down on her ass with a loud smack. I waited, preparing to slap her a second time, when she told me what I wanted to hear. I felt drops of warm liquid falling onto my cock and balls – tears.
Good. Cry for me.
Tears, screams, fighting…they fed the beast, not looks of affection or moans of pleasure.
“Master!” she screamed out.
“Fucking right.”
I slapped her ass a second time, harder, leaving a palm print on her perfectly round ass. “And who owns you?”
“You do, Master!”
“Better.”
Emily
Turned away from him, I let the tears flow, streaming down my face and onto him. The tears didn’t come from the pain in my head, which was throbbing, but were from the knife in my heart over the rejection. I’d tried. I’d tried to accept him and my position in this place. What more could I do? I’d thought he’d be happy with me.
I just don’t understand…
I’d never given a man oral sex, but I knew the mechanics of the act. Even if I hadn’t known the mechanics, my body seemed to know. With his shaft in my hand, I stroked him as I lowered my head and licked at the tip. A pebble of cum had formed at the tip and I licked it up. The salty taste took me by surprise for a moment, but it wasn’t horrible, so I lowered my head a second time and took the mushroom-shaped head into my mouth and sucked softly.
His moan told me I must be pleasing him, so I kept going. I had no doubt if I was doing it to his dissatisfaction that he’d tell me, or I’d receive another painful slap to my bottom, or worse. When I ran my tongue down one side of his cock and then back up the other, his fingers dug into my hips and he pulled my pussy down to his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue on my clit and the pleasure that went with it effectively removed all thoughts of his treatment of me and gave me the drive to satisfy him as he was beginning to do for me. His dick was too big for me to take fully into my mouth, so with my hand at the base of his shaft, I managed to take him in until my mouth reached my fist and the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. I gagged as his dick hit the back of my throat, but I refused to allow that to sway me.
As I began to pleasure him, Tanner alternated sucking my pussy lips into his mouth with running his tongue along my slit and teasing my clit. My body felt like it was vibrating as I rocked against his mouth while working his cock. Several times the pleasure rushing through me became too much for me to concentrate, so I was forced to stop what I was doing to bask in the sensations running through me. However, a quick, light reminder slap on my ass spurred me back into action.
I was climbing the summit of my desire at a rapid pace, and if I didn’t get off Tanner there was no doubt I would release over his face. I attempted to pull away, but he pulled me back, thrusting his tongue deep into my core. I cried out, then took him into my mouth again while gently massaging his balls.
His groan of satisfaction made me want to work harder to please him. I wanted him to cum as much, if not more, than myself. Maybe I was crazy for wanting to return the pleasure he was giving me, but my mind wasn’t in the past, it didn’t consider the future or who he was or what he was doing to me – all I could focus on was the now and the pleasure and how my body ached for him.
I was almost there and I didn’t even attempt to cover my moans and whimpers. The closer I came the more frantically I worked his cock. His dick swelled even larger than it had been, throbbing in my mouth, and he began to thrust. I moaned again and the final moan became his undoing. His balls tightened in my hands and his cock exploded, filling my mouth with his warm cum. The amount of cum was more than I’d expected and I attempted to keep up, swallowing as much as I could.
He pulled my pussy tight to his face and slammed his tongue deep within me, sending me into a state of pure ecstasy. I forgot I needed to be swallowing him and pulled my mouth from his dick and pressed my forehead to his thigh, trying to settle my body from the series of tremors that overtook me.
“Tanner,” I moaned softly, trying to catch hold of my breath.
I wanted to curl up next to him. I wanted him to gather me into his arms and tell me it was good and he would care for me. I didn’t get those things. Instead he tossed me off him and got up from the bed.
“Not bad, but you spilt some on me.” My brow furrowed as I looked up at him through lust-filled eyes. I didn’t know what to say, but the look of disappointment in his expression was upsetting. “We’ll need to work on that.” Not sayin
g another word, Tanner bent, grabbed his jeans from the floor and exited my room, locking the door behind him.
I looked blankly at the door for a long time, my emotions running cold. Eventually I crawled over to the pillow and laid my head on it, pulling the green army blanket over me and up to my chin.
Bastard. Heartless bastard. Well, fuck him!
Chapter 9
Tanner
I watched her – again – on the computer monitors. Watching her was becoming a bit of a bad habit, keeping me from things I needed to do. I saw the tears, but didn’t feel the satisfaction I ordinarily would have. Mind you, the tears were for an entirely different reason than they normally were from my slaves and that seemed to make a huge difference. That being said, I didn’t feel bad, I just felt nothing.
This is what you wanted, a voice in the back of my head chimed in.
The voice was right. This was exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want a mindless drone, I wanted a woman who held on to her passion, while being the obedient slave she was expected to be. I was succeeding, and here I was, sitting staring at her, not sure if my experiment was such as good idea after all.
After some time she fell asleep. I was about to get up and head to bed myself when I noticed something in the bathroom of her room. The shaving kit. Fuck. I didn’t want to go back in there with her; if I did, I might do something stupid like not leave and instead stay the night lying with her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually slept with a woman. I’d fucked tons, hundreds. But actually slept? Nope.
But I needed that kit, I needed that razor. If she had hold of that razor she might attempt to kill me, or maybe even herself. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid as to leave it behind. It was her fault; she was getting under my skin. The virgin church girl was fucking with my head. I was better than this.
