OnlyatTheCavern

by Anna Alexander

  “Well…” Madeline said as Jasmine sat down next to her. “How did it go with the new sub?”

  “Good.” She took a sip of her soda and turned her attention to the floor show.

  “Good? That’s all?”

  “Yep.”

  “Liar. I can smell your pussy from here.” She reached between Jasmine’s legs and copped a feel. “And your pants are soaked through. Honey, that is more than just good.”

  “Keep your hands to yourself, missy.” She slapped at Madeline’s arm with a chuckle. “Okay. It was really good.”

  “Spill it. I want to hear all of the juicy details.”

  “You know I don’t tell.”

  “Come on. Give me something. Cock size? Any special talent? Did he at least make you come hard?”

  “I didn’t let him make me come.”

  Madeline’s eyes boggled. “Are you serious? Why not?”

  “Because the anticipation is just as sweet for me as it is for him.”

  “That’s insane. I can’t go one day without coming. Keep your head down, Megabyte. Mommy is talking.” She used the sole of her boot to push the sub’s head down. “So. Is he a keeper?”

  Million-dollar question. “I don’t know. He responded beautifully, but I didn’t push him that hard. He’s new. Really new. Time will tell.”

  “Hmmm. But you want him. You want him bad. I can see it in your eyes. You act all calm and untouchable, but you want to ride that man into the ground.”

  Jasmine couldn’t help but smile at Madeline’s words. The woman was incorrigible.

  Of course she wanted to ride the captain’s cock. It was quite lovely, and the way his body rolled with the sensations she inflicted upon him was absolutely delicious. That’s why she had worn pants, to remind herself that the evening was about seeing to his needs and not hers.

  “As I said, he’s new. The moment I really drag him over the coals he may balk and become a complete disappointment.”

  Madeline nodded. “Like what happened to Elizabetta earlier.”

  “What happened to Lizzie?”

  “You didn’t hear? Her new sub tried to Dom her and turned into a big bully when she wouldn’t play his game.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Physically, oh yeah. She had him on his knees real quick when he tried to tackle her. She’s been taking those self-defense classes from Bale, you know. And Lucian and Jax were there right away. But mentally, I don’t think she’s taking it too well. She really liked this guy.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jasmine muttered and twisted the cap off the bottle of water as if it were the asshole’s head.

  Why did men think they had to physically assault someone to show their strength? Elizabetta wasn’t the first one to have a male sub try to prove his manhood by taking it out on his Mistress, and unfortunately she wouldn’t be the last. As long as men questioned their sexuality, there was going to be some dumbass who turned violent when faced with the truth.

  Lizzie was a good Mistress, just starry-eyed and young. She liked them big and muscle-bound. Alphas begging to be mastered. Except she doubted her abilities and suffered from low self-esteem. Jasmine saw she did her best to hide her insecurities, but when a sub who wasn’t fully invested in the relationship sensed a weakness, more often than not, they exploited it. She had potential. She only had to believe in it.

  “Where is she now?”

  Madeline shrugged. “I saw her leave with Amaryllis.”

  “Poor kid. At least Amaryllis has a way making things better.”

  “True that. Now I’m depressed. I hate that. Megabyte.” She nudged him with her heel. “I’m horny. Crawl over here and lick my pussy.”

  And that was her cue to leave. “I’m outta here. See you later.”

  “Are you going to find a man to satisfy that itch? Or better yet, a woman?”

  “No.” Madeline was all about instant gratification and never appreciated the torture of holding out. “I’ll be heading out soon, but first I have a pixie to interrogate.”

  * * * * *

  Marco snapped his gum and tried to instill a sense of calm into his twitchy muscles. This meeting was dragging on for what felt like forever and it was obvious to everyone in the room, except the commander, that nothing constructive was going to be resolved.

  Ever since the state decided to legalize marijuana, the department had had monthly meetings as to what was considered legal and illegal when complying with federal law.

  In other words, government officials didn’t know whether to shit or get off the pot and refused to make a decision that might damage them in the polls.

  To make it look as if they were making an effort, the commander tasked them with these monthly sessions. It was all bullshit and Marco found them tedious on a good day.

  But tonight was a Mistress Jasmina night. In two short hours he’d be submerged in her world. All day long his skin tingled with anticipation, his body anxious to feel her hands on his flesh, and his eyes kept skipping to every clock and timepiece in the vicinity. The only time he felt the least bit calm was while working on details of the Smithwick case.

  They were homing in on his capture and the minute that rat-bastard stepped back on city soil, his ass was grass.

  But Smithwick was not in the city. And all of Marco’s daily work was caught up. Funny how the prospect of mind-blowing sex motivated a man. The only thing standing in his way was Commander Asswipe and his long-winded speeches.

  The commander lifted is eyes from the stack of papers on the podium and heaved a sigh. “Are there any questions?”

  If any of you shitheads makes a sound, I’ll kick your ass into next week.

  Marco held his breath and counted to ten. A quick glance around confirmed that almost every man in that room was just as tense as he.

  Asante sighed again. “You’re dismissed.”

  Hot damn.

  Marco was the first one to the door and halfway down the hall when Coulter caught up to him. “Good lord. I thought he’d never shut up.”

  “You and me both, kid.”

  He stopped by his desk to do a quick scan to ensure everything was locked, off and put away. Of course anything of real importance was hidden where snoopy bosses couldn’t find it.

  “Spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch,” he mumbled as he slapped those areas. He was good to go. “See ya, Coulter.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. What’s the rush? Trent’s poker game doesn’t start until eight.”

  “I told Trent I’m not going to make it. You guys have fun.”

  “What do you mean? You’re always there.” He followed Marco to the elevator. “What’s more interesting than Samuel’s melt-your-face-off chicken wings?”

  Marco paused with his hand over the down button. “I can think of a thousand things more interesting.”

  Coulter shrugged. “I can only think of one. Women. Oh, hey. Are you meeting a woman?”

  “On a Tuesday? No.” He felt his face heat with the lie and pressed the button several times in rapid succession.

  “Holy shit. You’re blushing. It must be a woman. Who is she?”

  The doors swooshed open. About damn time. “Goodnight, Coulter.”

  He slapped the doors back open. “Come on, Cap. A name, description, something.”

  “Move your hand.”

  “A name.”

  “Look.” Marco pointed over Coulter’s shoulder. “Boobs.”

  The man fell for it and turned. “What?”

  Marco knocked Coulter’s hand away so the doors could close then sagged against the wall with a sigh. Coulter was going to be worse than the paparazzi on the trail of a juicy scandal. An annoyance for certain, but for Mistress Jasmina, completely worth it.

  The heavy rush-hour traffic had his hand reaching for his flashing light, but he left it in its holder. She already had enough power over him as it was. No need to prove how desperate he was for more of her attention.

  The gate for the private pa
rking garage under The Cavern lifted with the swipe of his entry card and reminded him of the parting of the red curtain before the feature presentation. The card was a perk of being Mistress Jasmina’s submissive. Private parking and backdoor access to the club.

  He breezed past the doorman at the entrance without making eye contact and headed straight for the dungeon. The guy knew what he was there for and didn’t need to know any more.

  To his surprise, Mistress Jasmina was already seated in her chair when he opened the door.

  She was dressed in his favorite mesh halter top and a skirt that was so short, it appeared as if she wore nothing from the waist down.

  He shut the door behind him and dropped to his knees before her as he had been instructed. As much as he wanted to follow the long line of her bare legs with his gaze, he kept his head down and waited and waited. And waited.

  “Rise and undress,” she said without the slightest inflection to give away her mood. He rose and reached for the top button of his shirt. “Like last time.”

  The act was like last time, but there was a different, tense vibe in the air that made his mouth go dry. At any moment he expected the proverbial other shoe to drop, and he didn’t mean his wingtip or the stiletto balanced on the end of her foot.

  Once bared, he knelt on the floor and waited for further instructions. Jasmina crossed then re-crossed her legs and watched him in silence for several long minutes. Her intense gaze on his naked body felt as strong as her hands actually touching his flesh.

  After a slow blink of her eyelids, she rose to her feet and stood above him like an Amazon warrior. She crossed to the wet bar and poured a glass of yellowish liquid into a crystal tumbler.

  “Have a drink, Rookie. You’re going to need the calories tonight.” She handed him the glass with a daring smirk. “Don’t worry. It’s only pineapple juice.”

  He took the offered cup and brought it to his lips. As discreetly as possible, he took an exploratory sniff for good measure and breathed a slight sigh of relief at the familiar but unexpected sent of pineapple. Liquor made sense, but why pineapple juice?

  When the glass was drained, she took it from his grasp and licked her lips while tapping a steady rhythm on the crystal with her short fingernails.

  “Last week when I left you, I had given you specific instructions. Did you follow them? And I suggest you think carefully before you answer, Rookie.” Her softly spoken question cracked in the air as effectively as a whip.

  Shit. The pixie squealed. Panic beat in his chest, and a thousand excuses flew to his lips. But Mistress did not suffer excuses. If he dared to utter them, there was nothing stopping her from walking out that door.

  He swallowed down his nerves and answered, “Not exactly.”

  “Explain.”

  “I helped Pixie to dress me.”

  “I see,” she sighed with disappointment. “It appears as if you require another method of training for you to understand my word is to be obeyed. Forehead to the floor, hands by your head. I want that delicious ass pointed to the sky.”

  Marco bent over as a new wave of panic washed over him. There was no doubt in his mind that this time she was going to punish him with more than a pinched nipple.

  The click of her heels against the floor sent shivers down his spine. The creak of the wardrobe cabinet doors opening and the clunk of unseen items as she sorted through her equipment made his gut clench with anticipation.

  “I knew you hadn’t followed my orders the moment I looked at Pixie’s face. The way she held her breath told me she had something to hide. Plus if she had gotten her hands your body, she would have been wet and ready to fuck. I’m sorry it has to come to this, but you have to learn. Now, what should I choose? Ah. A good old-fashioned wooden spoon will do nicely.”

  Oh my God, she’s really going to spank my ass.

  He gulped and tried to relax. The last time he’d been spanked with a wooden spoon was when his mom caught him dumping food coloring into his sister’s bottle of hairspray. He doubted this experience was going to be the same.

  “Count each one out loud and say thank you.”

  Crack.

  Her swing landed as her words registered. He wasn’t sure what shocked him more, the blast of pain across his butt cheek or the order to thank her.

  “Ah, one,” he stammered. “Thank you.”

  “Louder.” Thwack.

  “Two. Thank you, Mistress.”

  Jasmina peppered his ass in steady smacks from the fleshiest part of his cheeks to the backs of his thighs. The sharp stings settled into a fiery ache that pulled him into another dimension in a gentle suction like the tide pulling back from the shore. God, yes. This was what he needed. Nothing else existed but the burn encompassing his body and the way he felt as light as a feather, rolling along on the current of Jasmina’s ocean. Not his job, not his family, nothing but what Jasmina granted him to feel.

  The smacks stopped at twenty-five, yet he swayed backward, reaching for the next swat.

  “Good boy,” Jasmina cooed and placed a kiss on the curve of his hot skin. “You may sit up.”

  As he sat upright, the room swayed then cleared in sharp relief the moment his tender backside hit his legs. Damn. He might not be able to sit properly for a week.

  “Do we have an understanding now, Rookie?” she asked as she secured the cabinet.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Part of me wishes you disobey again just so I can redden your fine ass some more, but I think you may have enjoyed it too much. Perhaps I’ll spank you again for a reward some other time.”

  With that his cock jerked in agreement. God, he really was a perverted bastard.

  “I must say, watching you fall into the rhythm of the spanking made my pussy ache.” She reached for the zipper on the side of her hip and tugged down the tag. The skirt fell to the floor without a sound to pool at her feet.

  With her sheer top clinging to her torso, she was just as good as naked. Maybe even better. Her breasts were still a mystery but from the waist down she was all lush curves with full hips and thick thighs that looked as soft as velvet and strong enough to grip him tight around the waist while he fucked her hard.

  And hard he would take her when finally granted the opportunity. Mistress was not a delicate flower, and he knew a timid lover would disappoint her.

  “You like to talk a good game, Rookie. Let’s see how talented your mouth is.” She sat in her chair and hooked a leg over each arm. Her thighs parted, giving him the perfect view of the bare lips of her pussy that were already slick with her arousal and made him hunger for a taste. “Crawl to me.”

  With pleasure.

  He felt like a feral jungle cat with his shoulder blades rolling and the heavy weight of his cock bobbing between his thighs as he stalked across the floor, only she wasn’t prey. Even spread out in a vulnerable position, Jasmina held all the power.

  “Use your mouth and your hands to make my pussy feel good,” she ordered.

  It took a great deal of effort not to fall upon her like a starving beast. The silky skin of her inner thighs felt cool against his hot palms as he skimmed them up her legs to part the petals of her labia. In the past, oral sex had been something he had performed more to pleasure his partner than because he enjoyed the act, but now he craved the feel of her clit on his tongue and her flavor on his palate.

  He touched the tip of his tongue to the pink bud, just a brief flick, then long licks up and down in slow circles around her labia before plunging both thumbs into her sheath.

  In anticipation of when he’d be asked to please his Mistress in this manner, he was not ashamed to admit he did some online research by watching a lot of videos. By the way she squirmed in her seat, the effort had been well worth it.

  “Ah!” she gasped with a startled jump and tunneled the fingers of her hand into his hair as she melted against his tongue. “Hmm. That’s nice. Slow down. I don’t want you to tire before I’m ready. That’s it. More pressure.
Umm.”

  With her direction, Marco brought his Mistress to the brink over and over again, learning what pleased her most. He discovered she loved to walk the razor’s edge, relishing the anticipation of being pushed off the cliff into the sea of oblivion. He replaced his thumbs with two fingers and worked them deep inside her. Just as her cunt quivered with orgasm, she would tug at his hair for him to back off and build her up again.

  As he fucked her with his hand, he watched from beneath his lashes the way she clenched her teeth together to hold back her moans, how her dark eyes glittered with lust and the pink flush graced her round cheeks. Her breasts heaved beneath her top, and with her free hand, she pulled the material across her nipples for more stimulation. Even so close to orgasm, she was in complete control.

  Desperate to see her come undone, he crooked his fingers and began massaging the inner walls of her pussy, learning where the sheath was smooth, and where she was rough, experimenting with his touch from glancing caresses to solid taps on her flesh.

  When he hit a sensitive area, she cursed and pressed his face tighter against her snatch. “Right there. Don’t stop. Yes. Yes. God. Don’t stop. I swear if you stop, I’ll hang you by your dick.”

  For some reason that thought turned him on and he moaned around her clit, making her sheath tighten in return.

  “Yes.” She worked her hips harder. “Open up, baby. I’m going to come on your face. Yes. Yes.”

  A deep groan eased out from her lips as the walls of her pussy rippled and her cream flooded his mouth, but he didn’t stop his massaging fingers. Damn, he felt like a god as he hovered over her and watched as she writhed against his hand.

  It was at that moment when he realized the truth of their arrangement. They might have signed a document that stated for the next three months she owned him, but he now saw how he owned her as well. As he worked her down from her high and her body jerked with residual spasms, she belonged to him. A fact that was confirmed when she raised her sex-drugged eyes to his and he saw the surrender in her gaze.

  For a brief second he felt the earth move and the planets align in that heart-stopping bullshit way that signified a significant life change. It was as if a neon sign in the shape of an arrow was pointing right at her saying, “She’s the one. This is your woman. She’s yours for the taking.”