by May Sage
Bryant frowned, confused for a minute. “Wait. You’re assuming this is to be an open relationship?”
It was her turn to be confused. Wasn’t that what he was saying?
“Tori, there’s a very big difference between a couple having sex with a third party, and a man - or a woman - cheating on their partner with a third party. I’m monogamist. I wouldn’t pick up another girl and fuck her while in an agreement with you. But if both of us feel like it, I’d be open to bringing a third party to our bedroom. This isn’t something everyone can do. Or want to do, for that matter.”
“But you do?” she asked. “You like that sort of thing?”
“Yes.” He sighed again, looking frustrated. “Yes, I do. I’m an exhibitionist, first and foremost. Showing off is my thing. Freud would have a lot to say about lacking attention in my formative years, I’m sure. But whatever the reasons, I like public settings. Threesomes are just an extension of that. But I can do without.” He pointed to the list. “This isn’t about me. It’s about whether there can be an us.”
She re-ran his last couple of sentences in her mind, biting her lip hard. Finally, she grabbed the pen and quickly, without thinking about it too hard, checked off everything in the amber column again.
In for a penny…
Next to ‘following orders’ she added the same addendum, stating that she was only open to it when they were here, and next to ‘double penetration’, she quoted him, stating that they’d work up to it.
“Page three?”
Gags (tape)
Gags (cloth)
Hair pulling
Hand jobs
Harnessing (rope)
Harnessing (leather)
Having clothing chosen for you
Fellatio / cunnilingus (giving)
Fellatio / cunnilingus (receiving)
Flogging
High heels wearing
High heels worship
Intricate rope bondage
Kneeling
Licking (non-sexual)
Lingerie (wearing)
There was a decent amount of green on the third page.
Manicure (receiving)
Massage (giving)
Massage (receiving)
Name change (for scene)
Orgasm denial
Orgasm control
Phone sex
Public exposure
Punishment
“You want to give me a manicure?”
She couldn’t tick green fast enough.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind brushing your hair, either.”
“Almost makes up for the orgasm denial part.”
He grinned as she ambered and greened most of the page, stopping at the last item.
“Punishment? Define that.”
Bryant felt a little less stressed out when he explained things now, she could tell. “It’s linked to the rest. For example, the ‘following orders’ or ‘orgasm control.’ If you don’t do as you’re told during a scene, I will punish you. You’ve put a maybe on flogging and caning; if these are green for you, that’s some of the ways we’ll go about it.”
She nodded, definitely anxious, but also eager to try, especially after seeing that woman scream like a banshee earlier.
Riding crop
Serving
Serving as a maid
Serving as a waitress
Serving as a wife
Skinny dipping
Slutty clothing (private)
Slutty clothing (public)
Spanking
Swallowing semen
Vibrators
Wand
“I take it you’re not talking about using Harry Potter’s wand on me?” she asked, all the while ticking some green, some amber, and marking that the slutty clothing in public were reserved to The Tower.
“It’s a sex toy. I can google it,” he offered.
She just ticked on amber again. “There, all done. I figure, after trying out a few things, I’ll have more reds and greens, but in the meantime…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence; Bryant’s lips were on hers, kissing her like he might die if he had to wait another second.
“You can’t imagine how privileged I feel right now. I know at least some of that freaks you out. The fact that you’re willing to try is a gift I’m not taking for granted.”
Tori shrugged. “I’ll try anything once. If it isn’t my thing, then we can just cross it out, right?”
Bryant shook his head, chuckling. “Perfect through and through.”
“So what, now?” she asked, although she knew the answer to that.
“Now, we can try our first scene.”
23
Anything
The first scene, as he’d called it, felt intense, overwhelming, and she wanted more as soon as they were done.
He took her to his office, a simple, small, and empty room with a desk similar to hers at work.
“What are your safe words?”
“Amber to stop what we’re currently doing and talk it out,” she recited, paraphrasing what he’d just told her. “Red to stop the scene.”
“Good girl.”
She took a step to walk in the office, but he stopped her by just holding his hand up.
“Not yet, Tori. We need to clarify something first. Here, you’re Victoria, smartass extraordinaire and badass businesswoman. When we start a scene, you’ll be Vicky. And Vicky will get punishments for disobeying. She’ll get punishments because it’s fun.” He stopped talking for a second. “If we do this long term, I’ll push your boundaries, but, right now, I want you to use those safe words right away if you need to.”
She nodded, promising, “I will.”
There was a bundle of nerves inside her tummy, growing more unstable every second.
“Good. I want you to know that everything in this office is clean, brand new, and has never been used on another woman. Today, Vicky is a stripper who’s been arrested for propositioning. I’m the best defense lawyer she can get, and she’ll do anything, anything to secure my services. She can’t afford me, so she’ll let me use her body. You good with that?”
Tori chuckled, but replied, “Yep, sounds awesome.”
He went around his desk, and sat down.
“Then, step in.”
She didn’t know how her legs carried her past the threshold.
“Excuse me, Mr. Parker…”
“Croft,” he corrected.
Ah. So, the Dom was Bryant Croft. That made an awful lot of sense. She wondered if she needed to call him sir or something like that.
“Mr. Croft. Your secretary said I could just let myself in.”
“Indeed.” His voice had never seemed so hot and smooth, like some decadent chocolate. “I’ve been expecting you, Vicky. I believe you contacted my office regarding your recent issue with the law.”
“Yes, I…” Tori blushed. Why was she feeling shy and all? It wasn’t like she was an actual ho. “It was all a big misunderstanding. I was just hitting on a guy and for some reason, they thought I was trying to sell my body.”
“Of course. They must have been confused. Well, that being said, Vicky, I’ll be entirely frank with you: for that type of case, considering my rate is five hundred per hour, you’ll be looking at anything upward of ten thousand dollars. I don’t think I’m the right fit. I could recommend you see a colleague of mine…”
“But you’re the best,” she moaned, pouting. “Is there any way I can get you to help me? I’d do anything...”
She’d never acted a day in her life, not even in high school, so her performance was probably comical, but that was fun. Especially when Bryant got up from his desk and walked around it, leaning against it, and tilting his head.
“Anything?” he repeated.
“Anything.”
Bryant’s eyes flashed blue
“Very well, Vicky. In that case, get on your knees.”
That voice. The way he said it. Her greedy pussy
was begging for attention, although it had been seen to less than an hour ago.
Her movements were pretty awkward, but she dropped to a crouch, and then sat her ass on her feet, before looking up, staring right at his crotch. He’d put his clothes back on, and she’d never removed hers. She expected him to get his pants down and make her suck him; she wondered how that was supposed to work around his piercings. But, instead, he gave her further instructions.
“Put your hands flat on the floor, and lean forward.”
Flushing, she did as she was instructed. “Now, lift your hips, Vicky.”
She pushed her ass up in the air.
“Good girl.”
Bryant took his time talking to her; she heard his shoes on the floor as he circled around her, before grabbing the back of her dress and bundling it up, exposing her glistening ass to the air.
Tori didn’t know what she expected, she had no idea what he was going to do, and she couldn’t even look at him from this position. Her heart was beating so fast, as she expected a blow on her flesh at any moment.
There was a noise, she turned her head to try so see what he was going, but he was behind her. She knew that if she moved, it was going to be considered punishment-worthy.
Her pussy pulsed, as if to say, it’s not like we are against receiving punishments.
Finally, his steps approached again.
Something cold and wet touched her where she hadn’t expected, right against her asshole.
Fuck. What was he…
“Push out as I push in, Vicky.”
She gulped as the cold object tried to intrude inside her ass, everything in her revolting against it.
“Vicky.”
The tone held a warning. Biting her lips, closing her eyes, she tried to push out, praying to every god revered across the world that she wasn’t going to fart in his general direction.
Thankfully, she didn’t. The next second, the butt plug was lodged inside her.
Oh.
She wasn’t certain what to think about that. It filled her. Completely. Wiggling a little, she had to bite back a moan. Oh.
“Good girl. Now get up, and bend down across my desk.”
Fuck. Getting up involved far too much moving, and with that thing making itself known at each smallest shift, she was dripping by the time she’d taken her position.
“See, Vicky, I think you are lying to me. I think you did exactly what they accused you of doing. Which makes you a bad girl. And do you know what happens to bad girls?”
Did she?
“They get spanked.”
On that note, a slap resounded on her left ass cheek, and she resolved to never, ever live another day without doing something that might qualify her as a bad girl.
Her toes curled, her legs tensed, and she rubbed her thighs together.
“Count each hit, Vicky. You’re getting ten.”
At three, she came. At seven, she was begging, “please, please, please,” without knowing what she actually wanted out of it.
At ten, Bryant plunged his cock inside her incredibly tight pussy without removing the invasive plug in her ass. She expected the police to break in any minute, wondering who was getting murdered, because surely, they must have heard her scream in the nearest precinct.
Fuck. How had she spent twenty-six years without this?
Finally, he grunted and came inside her, his cum dripping along her legs; he kept on pounding her into oblivion, his dick still impossibly hard, until she followed suit.
Bryant then bundled her useless, unmoving body in his arms and took her to bed.
He watched her sleep through Sub-drop, a hot chocolate at the ready for when she opened her eyes, but it was morning when she resurfaced. He hadn’t even tried to sleep, unable to stop looking at her, like he expected her to disappear if he even blinked.
Their scene had been tame compared to some of what he’d done in his day, true, but he knew he’d pushed so, so many of her boundaries in one night. She should have run for the hills, because, now it was too late. She’d let him mold her into his everything, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let go now.
She woke up early. Bryant chuckled, loving how her perfect hair had made a messy nest overnight.
“How the fuck is that lipstick still on?” he mused.
“It doesn’t come off for about twenty-four hours,” she replied sleepily. “Doesn’t mark either - or your face would have been all purple by now.”
His thumb played with her bottom lip, and then he looked at it. She was right. “Basically, you’re made of magic.”
That made an awful lot of sense.
Tori chuckled, stretching like a cat, and making him want to kiss her from head to toes, so he did just that, while she giggled. When he put his head between her legs and kissed her there, though, she held his hair in her hands and started moaning instead. He’d genuinely intended to make her come with his tongue, just like the first time he’d had her, but she moved her hips, shifting on the bed to wrap her long legs around his hips and take his hard cock. What’s a man to do?
After morning sex, and breakfast sex, he asked casually, “Fancy house shopping? The agent accepted to see me on Sunday.”
Tori laughed. “Of course she did. Any of the homes you were looking at is going to bring in a big, fat commission. And, sure. Is Carter coming, too?”
Bryant shook his head. “We can do without him. He’s not the one who’s gonna have to live there.”
“Neither am I,” she replied, before catching his pointed look.
Her eyes widened, and she laughed. “Wow, I must have a gold-plated pussy if you’re asking me to move in after one night.”
See? That was why he wanted her. “Molten gold. The fucking best.”
“You’re insane. Certifiable. No one moves in with a guy that quickly.”
He sighed, conceding her point. He could wait.
She came with him, and he picked the house she liked without a second thought. Then, the next day, after coming inside her that morning, he asked again, “Move in with me.”
She said no. And the next day. And the day after that. It took a whole thirty-two tries to get the only answer he was going to accept.
As it was a work day, they should have gotten up and gotten dressed after that, but he just couldn’t.
“Turn around, and part your ass cheeks, Vicky,” he ordered her.
She stilled, because he’d never brought Vicky to their bed before. Vicky was Mr. Croft’s Sub, and she only existed in his home office.
But, instead of protesting, she got on her belly and put her hands on her ass, pulling each cheek apart.
She tensed when the head of his dick pushed against her tight entrance, but she knew just what to do to relax for him now, so, after a while, he was clasped in a vice so tight he couldn’t see straight.
Bryant almost embarrassed himself by coming right away; his balls tightened; he closed his eyes, gripped the bedding with his fists, and slowly pulled out, before thrusting back in. Repeating the process again, and again, and again, faster, harder, three fingers lodged inside her pussy, curving to bring her closer to the edge, he wondered how the hell a man was supposed to survive this.
Then, he remembered what his gender had done for centuries when they found themselves completely, utterly pussywhipped like him, and he said, “Fucking marry me.”
24
Maverick
To say that everyone was happy about the announcement of their engagement was a gross exaggeration, but, to be honest, Tori had expected - and dreaded - more enthusiasm from one person in particular.
Bryant had convinced her that eloping and hiding their upcoming change of marital status until the end of time was a little childish, so, at long length, she resolved to tell her mother.
“Bryant Parker,” Sandra mused. “Well, he’s certainly pretty enough to look at, so there’s that. He’ll do, I suppose. But you’re gonna have to make some effort if you want to keep his attention, dear.
Men like him are always chasing the next pretty skirt. It’s rather impressive that you managed to get a ring at all.”
She didn’t bother to point out that Bryant hadn’t bought her a ring. They were getting infinity tattoos around their fingers, instead.
“I suppose you told him you’d keep your legs closed unless he agrees, hm?”
Tori had put her on speaker the whole time, because she was pretty sure that if she’d just repeated that bullshit, Bryant wouldn’t have believed a word of it.
Once he’d managed to overcome the shock, Bryant shouted down the phone, “No, Mrs. Brown, that’s very 1979. Tori had her legs wide open the first night. That’s how it’s done nowadays.”
Which was one of the many reasons why she’d said yes, when he’d prematurely, unexpectedly proposed, although it probably certified them both as insane.
Her grandmother made up for it, because when Tori took Bryant to see her at the care home, she yelled, hugged them both, and promised to bake pie.
Work, of course, was another kettle of fish.
Everyone offered their congratulations, but Tori heard her name whispered each time she entered the break room for two weeks, nonstop. Eventually, someone put a stop to it.
“Right, while Jana’s off, everyone on her team will be reporting to Tori,” Bryant had said, which was protocol; sure, he could have picked another team member, but he’d chosen her knowing she could deal with the extra work.
Someone snorted. She wasn’t sure who, as it had come from behind her back. Bryant’s eyes snapped to the area where the sound had come from and he glared, but he visibly hadn’t seen anything either. Not that they would have done anything; they’d already talked about it, and they’d resolved against canning the idiots who made a fuss about their engagement.
“Oh, enough, for Christ’s sake,” someone snapped.
It wasn’t Bryant; it wasn’t even Lexi. They all turned to Langdon, who was staring in Vanessa’s direction.
“In order to avoid making this work environment more toxic than it already is, I suggest you fucking do your research about the company you work for, and quick. You might then notice that twenty percent of it belonged to the late William Brown and has been transferred to a Victoria Brown upon his demise. So, the girl you think is fucking her way to the top owns Croft Advertising. And could have quite easily fired all of your asses if she so wished. Just like she could have grabbed a cushy job without doing the legwork like the rest of us. But she has. Think about that tonight, and see if you manage to sleep for being class-A jerks.”
