by K D Grace
She nodded and wriggled her toes happily. She’d never felt more blissed out.
‘You like it here?’ he asked, knowing she couldn’t answer. The best she could do was smile enthusiastically and rub her bare feet along his thigh.
He curled his fingers around her foot and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the arch of it. ‘I knew you would. How could you not?’
She lay back on the huge slab of rock he had found for them and let the sun’s warmth wash over her. She could feel his gaze on her, and that was even warmer than the sunlight. It made her feel deliciously sexy – even more than sexy, it made her feel adored. She knew she was smiling. She could feel it. He watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and she watched him. She didn’t care if he was looking or not. She was a Pet. The rules didn’t apply to her. Sometimes that was a good thing.
‘Stella, my cock’s hard. I need you to make me come.’ She loved the bluntness of the Pet/keeper relationship. Pets were always horny, that was a given, but keepers didn’t have to play coy. They just asked for what they wanted, and that usually made their Pets even hornier.
She rose to find him watching her, as she had expected. He had moved to sit on a mossy stump. His trousers were open enough to free his cock and his balls, and his heavy penis strained in the pull and stroke of his large hand. The sight of him horny made her pussy quiver with anticipation. She started to kneel in front of him, but he shook his head.
‘I want to come in your pussy,’ he said.
She stepped closer and allowed him to slide her trousers down over her hips. She was still barefooted, so she stepped out of them, making sure to do it in such a way that gave Vincent a good view of her plump lips. He reached between her legs and stroked her folds, then offered a lazy chuckle. ‘You’re slippery almost as often as I’m hard, Stel, and knowing that just makes me even harder. Turn around.’ He motioned with the finger still glistening from her moisture just before he licked off the taste of her. She did as she was told. He took her by the hips and guided her back. ‘I want you to sit on my lap,’ he breathed.
As she squatted, he guided her, holding her cheeks apart. Then he fingered his way into her cleft to splay her fattened labia before he pulled her down and impaled her on his erection with a satisfied grunt. In response she let out a series of little animal whimpers.
‘Your pussy fits me like a glove, Stel, like a tight, slippery, warm glove, and I love wearing you.’ He reached around and down over her pubis. ‘Your clit’s always a hard little pearl all pushed out and exposed for me, ready for me to play with.’ He ran fingers over her nub and she shuddered.
‘You like it when I play with it, don’t you?’
She whimpered again then wriggled and tightened her grip as she rocked and shifted on his thighs.
He sucked air. ‘Oh God, woman, I won’t last long if you keep doing that.’
She didn’t care if he didn’t last long. Since Vincent had taken her the first time on the plane, she was always just a stroke away from coming. Somehow he kept her there, right on the edge and squirming, and he did it with no effort at all that she could see. She clenched again and he gasped a tight laugh. ‘All right then, a quickie it is. That should last us until we get back to the jeep. Maybe.’ A few more strokes and she felt him spurt. The feel of his release inside her was enough to send her.
But it hadn’t been enough to get them back to the jeep. He’d taken her again when they’d paused to watch a male robin mounting his female. Vincent had said something about the birds having a possible second brood, but his hand kneading her braless breasts while he spoke made concentration difficult. He had taken her from behind, her bracing herself against the rough trunk of a pine tree, trousers down around her hiking boots.
She had walked the rest of the way to the jeep with her cunt and thighs wet from their juices, looking for all practical purposes to anyone who might meet them as though she had peed herself. But the scent, the delicious rutty scent that perfumed her was a dead giveaway as to what had really happened. At the jeep, he held her back, and before she got in, he bent and removed her boots then took off her trousers and offered her a wicked smile. When she settled into the leather seat, while he belted her in, she held his gaze, opened her legs wide and squirmed enthusiastically all over the warm leather so her pout slicked the seat well.
‘That’s my nasty girl,’ he breathed, and she could already see his cock pressing against his trousers.
She fell asleep in the jeep on the way home, and he carried her into the house and placed her gently on the bed, removing the rest of her clothes while she half dozed. ‘You’re still jetlagged, Stel. You lie here and rest a while.’ He glanced down at his watch. ‘I have a conference call in a few minutes and I’ll be busy for an hour or so, then after I’m finished, we’ll have some dinner, and we can play.’ He cupped her breasts, dropped a quick kiss on her mouth and left her to rest.
It had been her plan to cat nap nestled in the middle of his big bed. The room was awash in the late afternoon sunlight morphing to shades of tangerine through the huge picture windows. She was still unbathed, still fragrant with the heady scent of Vincent and her together. It was such a perfect way to doze. But then she noticed the two photo albums at the bottom of the bookshelf. They were old and dog-eared. No one kept photos in albums any more, so she slipped off the bed and onto the floor.
Just as she had hoped, they were photos of Vincent’s childhood. She would have recognised him anywhere, and at any age. It certainly didn’t hurt that someone, probably his mother, had carefully labelled each shot. Most of the first album was of the pre-teen years, with Vincent looking too tall and too thin for his age, and with his hair as unmanageable as ever. In most of the pictures, he was with another boy, shorter, lighter haired, always perfectly combed, always looking like he couldn’t wait to get into trouble. The caption beneath a photo of the two of them standing in front of a tent read: Vincent and Alan. Crater Lake National Park.
Throughout the entirety of the two photo albums, Vincent was always accompanied by Alan. There was a familiarity about Alan that made him feel like someone she should know. He had that sort of face, she decided. Even in their senior pictures, Alan still had that look of awkward adolescence. But by their high-school graduation photos, Vincent had grown into his body and she was certain he would have melted the heart of any girl his age. Yet there seemed to be relatively few girls. There were photos of the two looking uncomfortable, all trussed up in their tuxes next to their dates at junior and senior prom, and the odd snapshot here and there that included female companionship. But Vincent’s reclusive tendencies seemed to have been already well established. Already he preferred to spend his time in the woods, a passion Alan seemed to share.
From the photos, it appeared the two were inseparable and yet their journey together seemed to end after high-school graduation. Or maybe Vincent’s mother was just no longer there to take photos.
Stella leant over to check the shelves in case she had somehow missed another album.
‘What are you doing?’ The voice behind her was sharp, accusing, causing her to jump, as Vincent’s large hand grabbed the volume away from her and pulled her to her feet. His eyes were cold, hard, and she felt a tremble in her belly that was not arousal. ‘You know you’re not supposed to be looking at those.’
Immediately her gaze dropped to his belt as he began to undo it, and she knew what was coming. How could she have forgotten?
Under no circumstances are Pets allowed to handle books, magazines, newspapers, computers, mobile phones or any other information device or print media. A Pet is never, without express permission, to browse, look through, or disturb in any way any of the personal belongings of her or his keeper.
Both of the above offences are to be punished severely.
Her heart raced in her throat, her palms were suddenly moist with nervous sweat. Vincent didn’t take his eyes off her while he removed his belt. As it cleared the last loop, she
felt more like a trapped animal than a Pet, and without thinking, she turned to run, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her close. ‘I have to punish you, Stel. You know I do. You broke the rules.’
He surprised her by pushing her back onto the bed bum first. He lifted her legs together, as one would to change an infant’s nappy. Then he pulled her toward him until both legs rested on his left shoulder exposing the whole of her arse at just the right angle for him to wield the belt, which he gripped tightly by both ends creating an elongated loop of leather. For a brief second the thought raced through her head that his belt was not a Pet Shop-approved spanking implement, but when the first lash came down hard against her arse, sounding like a gunshot and stinging like fire, it seemed irrelevant. She howled with rage, and struggled to keep from calling him the choice names that nearly erupted from her throat.
When the second lash came, she tried to buck away from it, but he held her tight, his face set and grim. ‘Sh! Stella, Sh!’ His voice sounded almost tender. ‘I hate to do it, Stel, but I told you I’d discipline you, and you know the rules. We both know you do.’ She could feel the rise and fall of his shoulders beneath her thighs, hear the wind of his breath racing in and out of him as he paused to examine his efforts, trailing the belt over her stinging butt, making her clench and hold herself tight, hoping that he was finished, but knowing that he wasn’t.
‘If you relax, sweetheart, it’ll be easier for you.’ And the next lash fell like fire, and she bellowed at the insult.
These were not the gentle smacks on the bottom she had issued Tino; the sting had bloomed into a full-blown inferno on her arse. And the humiliation stung even worse. She wanted to scream at him that she hadn’t meant it, that she didn’t deserve this, that she’d only wanted to know a little more about him. Surely that wasn’t wrong. But each time the belt came down, she knew he was right. She had to be punished, and everything else went out of her mind but the sharp focus of the pain and her humiliation.
He paused again. ‘Look at me, Stella.’ His voice was forced, clipped between heavy breaths that seemed disproportionate to his task. ‘Look at me when I punish you,’ he said.
She forced herself to do as he commanded, holding his gaze as though her eyes were lasers and they could bore into his soul, make him feel what she felt.
‘It hurts, sweetheart. I know it hurts. But when it’s over, when you’ve taken your punishment, you’ll understand, and you’ll be a better Pet for it.’
By the time the last lash burned across her fevered bottom, she could hold back the tears no longer. She let them spill, but her gaze never wavered.
He stood over her breathing heavily, his drawn face now refracted through her tears.
She heard the clank of the buckle as he dropped the belt to the floor. She felt a stubbled kiss on the side of her thigh where it rested on his shoulder. ‘Don’t cry, Stel. I never wanted to punish you, but you know I had to. Sh, sh, sh! It’s over now. It’ll be all right. It’s over.’
She heard the zip of his fly and felt him shifting beneath her still raised legs. Dear God, surely he wasn’t going to fuck her now! And yet as he lowered her legs from his shoulders and she winced as her sore bottom came to rest fully on the mattress, she could see he was heavily erect. The tip of his cock shimmered with precome.
‘You would never have spanked Tino like that, would you?’ he breathed. His face was flushed, his mouth set in a tight line.
Swallowing back tears, she tried to turn away, but he settled on the bed next to her and pulled her close.
‘Perhaps you should have,’ he whispered. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her hard, kissed her until she stopped fighting him. ‘Perhaps you should have spanked Tino like that,’ he said again when he pulled away. He ran a hand down over her belly and slid two fingers between her labia. She gasped at the wet swell of herself against his stroking, amazed at the bloom of hunger for him that had somehow pushed its way through the rage and the pain.
He rolled onto his back and lifted her on top of him, careful of her burning bottom. Her pussy gaped for him, as it always did, hungry to be filled with him, as though he hadn’t hurt her, as though he hadn’t humiliated her, maybe even more so because of her punishment. And as he lifted his hips to push up into her, she trembled all over with want that made no sense to her at all. And yet it was there.
He rested a thumb against her clit and began to circle and press, and her brain practically buzzed with endorphins.
‘You’re my Pet, Stella. For this weekend, you’re my Pet. I have to treat you as my Pet. And you have to understand. You have to understand what it means to be a Pet. And it’s so much more than what the manual teaches you.’
It was crazy insane. She couldn’t stop crying, but her cunt felt even more on fire than her wounded bottom. Vincent inside her. Vincent filling every part of her. That was all she could think about. That was what her world had narrowed to, and she wanted nothing else.
‘It’s all right, Stel, sweetheart,’ he whispered between tight breaths. ‘Let it out, darling, and you’ll feel better.’ His voice was heavy with tenderness she’d never heard there before. ‘My naughty little Pet. You get your bottom spanked for being a bad girl, and even that makes your pussy wet. How can I possibly resist you?’
He held her there, rocking gently, thumb caressing her clit to its own heavy erection. He watched her, fondling her with a gaze so hungry it burned over her skin and flayed her to the depths until she was sure she could come just from his gaze. And she was so close, so fucking close.
But just when she was about to slip over the delirious precipice he’d led her to, he held her hips, held her very still on his cock. ‘Hold it, Stella, make it last. Hold your heat. I don’t want you to come yet.’
She squirmed and mumbled something incoherent. Pets don’t speak, and in truth she felt as though she had totally forgotten how. And as he held her there, unable to move, her tears became tears of frustration.
‘Sh, Stel, sh! Just hold it there, tight in your little cunt. Hold it for me.’ Then he slid his hands down and gave her stinging arse cheeks a hard knead, hard enough to make her gasp and cringe. The cringe tightened her grip on his cock and made him groan in reply.
‘Ah! There, you see? You feel it, don’t you?’ He gave another squeeze, and she saw red and would have bucked off him, had she not been so deeply impaled.
He held her unmoving, frustrated and aching, while he suckled his middle finger until it glistened with his saliva. Then, still holding her, he pushed and wriggled it into her back grip, causing her to pull a deep breath. With the other hand he squeezed her arse cheek in warning. ‘Don’t come, not yet. Hold it.’
She breathed in shallow little pants, trying to hold still against the invasion of her arsehole that only made the buzz in her cunt feel more urgent. Vincent’s hands were large, his fingers thick, and the one up her anus felt nearly as big as his cock. It made her want to squirm and thrust against it like a cock. And yet at the same time it made her want to be still, like she was holding something in her that shouldn’t be there – and yet something she didn’t want to let go of.
‘Relax for me.’ His voice was calm, focused. ‘Good girl, now push out. That’s it.’ She felt him manoeuvre his hand to catch the gush of her pussy juices from where his cock penetrated her. Then the well-lubricated second finger slipped into her tight hole, and this time she did squirm with the discomfort of it.
‘Sh! Hold still for me, Stel, sweetheart, just a little bit longer then you can come and it’ll be so good.’ As the second finger slipped past her back opening to join the first, the sound that escaped her mouth was somewhere between a growl and a cry. He no longer prevented her from moving. Instead he now returned to circling her distended clit with the thumb of his other hand while the two fingers in her back-hole began to scissor ever so slightly, ever deeper inside her. Until at last they were able to reach forward just enough to stroke the thin wall of her rectum that separated
them from his cock. He sighed his satisfaction, and she held her breath. For a second neither of them moved, everything felt suspended, heavy, like syrup too thick to pour. Then, with his gaze locked on her face, he began to stroke and press, and she felt the pressure of his stroking against his cock. The shudder of breath that ran up through him told her he did too.
‘Now, Stel,’ he forced the words out over a tightly held breath, and for the first time, she became aware that she wasn’t the only one struggling to hold back the flood. ‘Now we’ll come together.’ Then he began to thrust beneath her, somehow managing to keep his rhythm perfectly timed in both her stuffed holes and still press upward with his pubic bone enough to rake her clit with each thrust. The cocktail of feelings rushing through her dwarfed the pain of the spanking. She fucked him with anger and shame and lust and hurt and pain and need and other things she had no name for. She rode him down hard into the mattress in spite of the pulling stretch of her anus, in spite of the burning of her arse cheeks. And he took it, all of it. And when she passed the point of no return and shuddered as though she would break apart into a thousand tiny pieces, he came in tremors that shook the bed, that shook his body, that shook her to the core. Then he pulled her down against his chest and smothered her face and throat and shoulders in breathless hungry kisses.
They never did get around to a real meal, but it didn’t much matter. Sometime in the hours before dawn, she woke to find him standing naked in front of the sliding window and she thought how beautiful he was standing there bathed in moonlight, but the thought barely surfaced above consciousness before she slept again.
In the morning, she awoke to find Vincent gone and a smiling female handler waiting to bathe her. ‘I’m sorry, Stella, darling, but Mr Evanston got called away unexpectedly. He’s asked me to apologise to you for his untimely departure and to see that you get safely to the airport and back home to London.’ In the gut-punch of emotions that followed, Stella couldn’t keep from thinking about Audrey saying that withdrawal of affection was the worst punishment of all for a Pet.
