She sank her teeth into his shoulder just under the spiked collar. Her mouth by his ear, she whispered, “I’m going to fuck you hard. I’m going to shove this dildo up your ass until it makes you crazy.”
He shuddered and turned his head to stare at her. His eyes were a bit wild, uncertain. But he didn’t say the safeword. She removed her fingers and slid the dildo in his ass. He started to tense, but she used her fingers to pinch his nipples and he relaxed slightly. Her lips brushed his earlobe and his breath whooshed out as one of her hands dipped lower.
The dildo was halfway in when her hand gripped his cock. The lubricant on her fingers let her slide up and down over his flesh easily and he moaned. The dildo slipped in further. Finally, she pushed inside him hard. The tip of the strap-on slammed into his prostate and he cried out, “Mistress!”
The two prongs rubbed on her clit rhythmically as she slid inside his ass and her orgasm coiled, ready to spring free. She grazed her hand faster over his cock and his breath came out in pants. Her pussy ached and drenched the insides of her thighs. His cock pulsed in her hand and he thrust his hips as much as they could despite the restraints.
Tormenting them both, she slowed the pace and held the dildo in his ass, the tip pressed against his prostate. His body quivered as her hand eased the pace over his hard dick. He growled in his throat, words spilled from his mouth. He wanted to fuck her, he wanted to slam his cock inside her sweet, wet pussy. He wanted her to whip him, brand him, scratch him. Every syllable that tumbled from his lips ripped through her heart. She shivered as she struggled against his will and her own. Control. This was about control. She was supposed to play him. Not… Whatever this was, it wasn’t playing.
The prongs against her clit held her on the edge. One stroke, one touch and she’d explode. But she wanted his cock in her pussy. While he fucked her, she wanted to see his face when he came. She wanted to control that moment.
She eased the dildo out of his ass and his groan echoed in the room. With a jerk, she dropped the strap-on to the floor and kicked the step stool directly in front of Christian. His eyelids drooped over his eyes, making them narrow slits of fire. She obtained a condom from the box on one of the tables in the room and ripped it open. Her gaze held his as she slid the rubber over his dick. The sound that came from him was guttural and animalistic. She licked her lips in anticipation.
Sheathed and hard, his cock stood at attention as she stepped up on the stool. Good thing she was agile. She smiled as his face changed when she slammed his cock inside her, her thighs resting on his hips, her booted feet crossed at his ass. He growled low and menacingly as her hands reached up to grasp the ropes just above his wrists.
She rotated her hips and moaned as his cock slid in and out of her pussy. God, the feel of him was so sexy, so fucking amazing. She closed her eyes and just experienced the slap of his penis, the slide of her nipples over his chest, the sounds of his grunts as he tried to hang onto his release. There was something incredible about a man who wanted to come but didn’t. He did it without a cock ring, without a demand he wait. He was perfect, special.
Somehow he got his fingers around her wrists and squeezed. She opened her eyes and his were tightly shut, his teeth clenched and his neck corded. “Mistress,” the word hissed from his lips and his fingers tightened.
A hot fire swept through her when he spoke the one name she wanted to hear from him. When he said it she forgot they were playing, fucking. When he called her “Mistress” she believed it. The power surged through her, rocked her, made her skin heat and her mind blank.
Her teeth nipped his earlobe, his neck and lips. His breath was hot on her skin and his face was fucking hot as he strained to hold back. Even through the condom sheathed over his hard penis, she could feel the throb of his veins. Finally, she whispered in his ear, “Come inside me. Now.”
The last word hadn’t died before he shouted his release and made her ears ring. His expression as he came was a mixture of joy and pain that made her insane with need. She thrust her hips faster and faster. Her own orgasm washed over her and she arched her back. It swamped her, swept her away into an ocean of sensation that overloaded her senses and sent her spinning right off the planet. They swung back and forth as the ropes stretched taut from the force of their fucking. Her pussy convulsed and throbbed as his thrusts became uncoordinated and out of control.
She dropped her hands to his shoulders and her nails scored his skin. He shuddered and growled, a sound of pleasure and sensuality that made a purr escape her own lips. She noted that she’d dug her heels deep into his ass and marked him there too. His lids drooped over his eyes and his body jerked and twitched.
She slid off him, satiated, warm. And confused. After a few blinks to regain her composure, she opened the manacles, first on his ankles and then on his wrists. She caught him as he slumped into her arms. He trembled and she lowered him to the floor, his head in her lap. He trembled and his fingers sought her booted foot. He shifted and brought his lips to her boot to kiss it.
A tremendous wave of something disturbing flooded her. She wanted the boot off her foot so he could press his mouth to her naked foot. She wanted to fuck him again. She wanted—
Her lips tightened. It was too easy to read into this kind of play. She should have chosen a woman. For her, a woman presented fewer emotional complications. But she had a job to do. With gentle hands, she stroked Christian’s hair as she made a decision. This would be the last time she’d play this submissive. He offered her something, but she didn’t trust it, didn’t know what it meant. She was…off-balance and that was a new and unwelcome sensation.
Going through the motions, she removed the condom from his flaccid penis and used a wash cloth to clean him. His completely subservient attitude created mixed feelings for her as she cared for him. He stood, completely at her mercy, content to follow her lead. She’d seen other submissives dip into this deep subspace, but it was rarely with her.
He waited as she dressed, acquiescent, quiet. Normally, she would ask questions, converse, fill the silence. But with him even the silence meant something special. She faced him and touched his cheek with her hand. He leaned into her palm with his eyes closed and then turned his head to kiss her wrist. It was an effort not to snatch her hand away. She clicked on the leash but didn’t demand he crawl behind her.
Together, they meandered back to the front counter where she removed his collar and the leash. “You can’t drive,” she stated.
His gaze rose to her face and he blinked. The stunned confusion there made her heart clench. Dominique retrieved Christian’s clothes and Pamela dressed him. His whole body was relaxed as she slid his T-shirt over his head and his underwear and pants over his ass. She was careful not to meet Dominique’s watchful stare. She called him a cab and made sure he got in.
Fog swirled around her feet as she watched the cab disappear in the distance. Her stomach churned and tears clogged her throat. It was better this way. She had nothing to offer anyone. “Know thyself” was David’s motto in their little community. How many times had she talked with him about these very issues? He’d warned her she was shutting down, closing off. But he never told her what to do when she was ripped wide open.
***
It was the next morning before Chris had a coherent thought. His apartment, his clothes, everything seemed strange to him. His only thought was about her. How he’d gotten in his door, set his alarm and fallen into bed was beyond him. How he was going to go to work like this was beyond him. Another day of anticipation, delicious torture and definitely cold showers.
All those years of playing around in the lifestyle and he’d never experienced that place, that elusive goal, subspace. He’d been lost but content. He floated, drifted, felt a bubbling sense of well-being. It was like being drunk without all the discomfort of alcohol. Now he better understood the limits in place. Before, he’d been like an actor running through his lines with a prompter. Last night had been opening night and the
play had been spectacular.
Excitement tore through him. He’d see her tonight. He was sure of it. All he had to do was get through another day of work. And he’d know his part even better now.
There was no confusion in Chris’s mind, no turmoil. She had opened the door, expanded his choices and freed him from the things that held him prisoner. As he did his usual morning routine, he had something to look forward to at the end of the day. For the first time in his life there was more to Christian Nolan than his job.
Chapter Four
He waited for two hours. Shirtless, subservient and alone, he stood at the front of The Cage and waited. Then she came through the door. His heart thumped and his blood boiled. His cock hardened at the sight of her. Long black hair swayed in time with her hips and her boots seemed to glide along the floor. Her breasts were pert, pushed up by the black corset she wore. Her black leather skirt emphasized her long, fantastic legs.
She approached the counter and he struggled to maintain his position. He wanted to run to her, kneel at her feet, touch her. A second later, he was glad he’d remained still. She sailed past him like he wasn’t there.
His stomach dropped into his shoes as his mind processed what had just happened. She strode into the waiting area and chose a woman, a blonde. His breath was labored and his chest hurt. Why? What had he done wrong? His feet dragged like lead weights. He could just escape, run out the door and nurse his wounds in private, but he had his pride.
Bitterly, he shuffled to his usual corner and ignored the curious glances from his fellow club members. Humiliation of this kind wasn’t something he enjoyed, but he understood it. She was punishing him for something, some unknown slight. Anger saved him from being a complete pussy about it. His teeth clenched and he did something he rarely allowed himself. He stood at the edge of the cage and ripped open his pants. She could reject him, give him the heights of heaven and then toss him into fucking hell, but she couldn’t control this.
Again, the waves parted for Mistress Dane. She cleared the cage as other players deferred to the expert. And how professionally she’d played him. He’d been putty in her hands. Even now, as emotional pain wrenched his stomach and made every breath like nails ripping his lungs, his cock responded to her aura of power and confidence.
The blonde woman was a regular. What was her name? Trina? Tina? Did it matter? She had what he wanted. He wanted to rip through the cage and tear her away from his Mistress. His hand clenched on the mesh of the cage as his other hand stroked his cock with vicious pulls. Maybe if he could spew his come all over the cage floor he’d get rid of this poison, this addiction, to a woman who’d clearly used him and then dissed him.
For one moment, as Mistress Dane raised her hand to flog the blonde, her gaze met his. Something flickered there, something uncertain. In a second, it was gone and replaced by the Dominant, confident expression of a woman in charge. She played the blonde like a virtuoso, her blows with the flogger beautifully choreographed. The blonde woman was big, with large tits and a generous ass. There was an abundant amount of skin to use as a canvas for Mistress Dane to paint her pretty picture.
Nipple clamps, an anal plug and well-placed spanks sent the blonde into a screaming orgasm that Mistress Dane seemed to enjoy. She fucked the woman relentlessly with the anal plug and pulled the woman’s hair. All of it, Chris thought, was a show, a shadow of what they’d had together. He glanced at the other club members. They still masturbated and got off, but Chris kept a steady grip on his release and stared at her, willed Mistress Dane to meet his gaze and silently give permission for him to come.
The blonde was relaxed in post-coital bliss when Mistress Dane’s gaze lifted to meet his. Conflict raged there. Indecision. He continued to pump his cock, the vein on its length throbbing and pulsing in his hand. She stared at him and then crooked her finger.
He raised an eyebrow and she glared at him. “Now,” she demanded. The other members’ excitement rose and the energy in the room spiked unbearably.
Anger simmered and adrenaline poured through his veins, but he tried to maintain a casual attitude. He tucked his hard penis inside his pants with a wince and entered the cage. Though he kept his eyes lowered, her rejection of him still stung and his body language probably conveyed his defiance, but he didn’t care.
“Fuck her.” Mistress Dane stepped back from the blonde and waited.
He risked meeting her glance. Hard and tight, her features held nothing of the pleasure he’d seen on her face the night before. His fists clenched and he forced them to relax. Without another thought, he dropped his pants and kicked them away. He strode over to a table in the cage and snagged a condom. With angry rips and tears, he yanked the thing out of the package and slid it over his aching dick. He hated her. She was demanding his compliance, his submission, but at what price? And what had he done to her?
Mistress Dane knelt to speak to the woman prone on the floor. “I’m going to have Christian fuck you, Sheena. Say your safeword if you’re not comfortable with that.” Her voice was kind, but firm.
Sheena glanced over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were china blue and her face was pretty. And she didn’t do a damn thing for him. He returned her gaze with a steady one of his own. The woman studied him from his shoulders to his extended, sheathed cock. She licked her lips and nodded.
“Get up, Sheena. All fours so he can ride you,” Mistress Dane snapped.
God, Christian’s cock jumped and throbbed when she spoke like that.
Mistress Dane strode behind him and pressed on his shoulder. “On your knees.”
His muscles tensed and everything in him screamed to refuse, walk away. Instead, he sank to his knees and grasped Sheena’s hips. With one finger, he tested her pussy. Sheena was hot and wet. She wouldn’t notice that he pumped her and thought only of the woman that controlled them both.
He glanced at his Mistress and asked a silent question with his eyes. She stared at him, something hungry and desperate in her face. His cock twitched at the sight of her. Her nod was sharp and insistent. He closed his eyes and slid his dick into Sheena’s pussy. The walls of the blonde’s channel clenched around him and he thought of how Pamela’s sweet cave had squeezed him dry. Sheena cried out as he thrust in and out of her pussy, but his thoughts were only on how his Mistress had tasted and smelled.
Suddenly, that smell was close, just under his nose. Mistress Dane lifted her leg and wrapped it around his neck as he slammed inside of Sheena’s pussy. “Suck me. Show me how talented you are,” she ordered, her voice bitter for some reason.
But she was his drug and he was an addict. The smell of her reached his senses. His penis stretched inside Sheena’s slick cave and she moaned. Mistress Dane shifted and her pussy was within reach. His tongue flicked out and he groaned as he tasted her. Her hand gripped his hair and shoved his head closer. He inhaled her scent, reveled in the feel of her clit against his tongue. He followed her instructions and sucked on her erect nub as his cock pounded Sheena’s body. Soon, Mistress Dane’s hips and his moved in perfect concert and Sheena screamed as she came, bathing his dick in hot wetness. In his mouth, the tang of his Mistress’s essence sent his body into a sexual frenzy.
He slammed Sheena’s pussy harder and extended the blonde’s orgasm. When Pamela came in his mouth, he could have died from the pleasure of it. Her come dribbled down his chin and he growled with need. He wanted to come. He wanted to fuck Pamela, not this woman beneath him. He wanted his Mistress.
She dropped her leg and ran her fingers over his cheek. Without realizing it, he’d stopped fucking Sheena. The blonde quivered, tears stained her cheeks, satisfaction made her pretty face glow.
His Mistress walked away.
He stared after her, his cock still hard and throbbing. What the fuck just happened? As he slid out of Sheena’s body, anger gripped his gut. Pain shot through his body as he ripped the condom off and tossed it in a wastebasket. He yanked up his pants, ignoring the bite of the material on his
distended and sore penis. His lips tightened and his fist clenched, he stomped out of the cage.
With his duffle bag slung on his shoulder, he strode for the door.
“Christian.” Her voice was like the snap of the flogger to his system. It rocked him with malicious anticipation.
He turned, all submissive attitude in the fucking toilet, and glared at her. “Yes, Mistress.” It irritated him that the word “Mistress” still came out in that husky, needy tone.
“I apologize,” she said.
He frowned and studied her more carefully. Underneath the makeup, dark circles rested beneath her eyes and strain showed. Within the swirl of color in her eyes, she seemed uncertain, confused. He waited for her to go on.
A jerk of her shoulder seemed so unlike her. “I shouldn’t have pulled you into play with Sheena.”
“You broke no rules,” he said mildly, though his very soul had been scarred by her indifference.
“Not officially. I promise you, Christian, I wasn’t trying to fuck with your head.”
Aware of the avid curiosity of the other members, he stepped closer. “Perhaps,” he began slowly, “we should discuss this away from the club.”
She sighed and pursed her lips. “That might be best.”
In an awkward silence, she put a long dress coat on over her corset and skirt. She strode for the door and he beat her there to open it. She met his gaze and blinked. “Thank you,” she said in a tight voice.
The cool night air turned her cheeks a dusky red and she flipped the collar of her coat closer to her chin. Her voice was muffled as she said, “I don’t know San Francisco very well. Is there somewhere we can have coffee this late?”
“I know a place.” He held out his arm and, after a moment’s hesitation, she took it and they headed down the street.
***
The Christmas She Rules Page 4
