OnlyatTheCavern

by Anna Alexander

  “Good evening, Rookie,” she greeted and circled his kneeling form a few times to enjoy him at several angles. She dug her fingers into his thick hair and tugged. She was fond of his salt-and-pepper locks. Too many men were losing their hair or shaving down to the skull. What was she supposed to hold on to when a man ate her pussy?

  She hugged him from behind, draping herself against his back to whisper in his ear, “Did you miss me?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Hmmm,” she hummed and scored light-pink lines across his chest with her nails. “I missed your cock. I think it’s time we get better acquainted. Stand up and lie on the table.”

  As he rose, she saw him try to suppress a smile. He liked the idea very much, too bad he had no idea what she had planned.

  Once he was laid out, she secured his arms by his sides, placing a kiss onto the center of each palm before wrapping the cuff around his wrist and tightening it into place.

  Just because she could, she ran her hands over his body, enjoying the varying textures and the play of his muscles and body hair under her palms. His contented sighs made her skin tingle and when he closed his eyes, she let loose with a wicked grin. He was so putty in her hands.

  Earlier that evening she had hidden a few supplies in the drawer under the table. From inside the drawer she withdrew a condom and ripped open the top. The wrapper fluttered to the floor as she rolled the latex down his throbbing length with a firm squeeze.

  “Good God,” Marco gritted out and bucked his hips.

  Next she took out a leather and metal contraption that had his eyes widening in surprise.

  “Wha—” he bit back the question with a grimace. The man was learning to hold his tongue.

  She slipped the metal ring down the shaft of his cock until it fit snugly around the base. Around each thigh she wrapped the straps and cinched his balls with the cage into a nice, tight package. As he twitched on the table, she removed her skirt. Dressed in only her corset and thigh-high boots, she climbed onto the table and sat astride him like a rider on a bucking bronco.

  Sweet heavens, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

  She grabbed his cock and aimed the tip at the entrance to her pussy. With Marco’s gaze fixed at her juncture, she began the slow descent down his shaft, her greedy pussy gobbled up every inch until she hit bottom. Oh, the stretch burned so good. This first time was going to be quick.

  She rolled her hips to the right and left, back and forth, taking her sweet time in searching for the perfect fit, and when she found it, her breath caught and her fingers dug into his sides. It was times like these when she wished she could grow her nails out longer. The style was not productive in the medical field, but, oh, how she’d love to draw blood as she rode her toy hard.

  And he was her toy, he belonged to her. Marco was nothing but a beautiful instrument of pleasure. Built to serve her in whatever manner she wished. As she rose and fell, getting closer and closer to the edge, she reveled in his torture. The muscles in his arms bulged, straining against his bindings. His head thrashed against the table and his hips jerked beneath her, trying to plow his cock further inside.

  “Do not come,” she barked and worked her hand between them to rub at her clit. “Do not come.”

  The direction ended on a moan as the rush of electricity swept up her body and set her ablaze. She slammed her hips down, trapping the throbbing length of his erection in her pulsating sheath. Blood rushed in her ears and her vision swam, but underneath it all was the unrelenting hunger for more.

  “Yes, more,” she said out loud and began the rise and fall on his cock.

  “Oh God. God,” Marco began to chant and shake, his sweat-slicked body slid between her thighs with sporadic jerks.

  She dug her fingers into his flanks and bent over to take one of his sensitive nipples into her mouth, taking care not to rip him to shreds. His cries made her feral, ravenous, almost violent as she licked and bit his flesh, leaving streaks of red lipstick to mark her territory.

  The delicious curve of his cock filled her again and again, the head stroking her G-spot and hurtling her to another orgasm with breakneck speed. His name flirted with her lips as she caught fire but she held it back. It was too soon to use his name, no matter how much she wanted to scream it to the sky.

  Spots floated in her vision and her lungs burned as she crashed to his chest. Little jolts of energy twitched in her muscles and her pussy continued to suckle his cock that was still as hard as marble in her soft sheath.

  Above her came the sounds of Marco muttering. Only a few words were understandable, such as sodium, chlorine and iridium.

  Was he reciting the periodic table? She lifted her head and saw his eyes were tightly shut and his teeth clenched together as he rattled off element after element.

  Now this was new, and unexpected. Using sports statistics as a distraction from coming was not unknown. This scientific method was most certainly intriguing.

  “Rookie. Look at me,” she demanded with a twist to his nipples. “Are you ignoring me?”

  “No—no, Mistress,” he gritted out. His face was shiny and flushed, the skin of his cheekbones drawn tight as he fought to remain in control. “Please. Please…”

  Oh, they were so pretty when they begged.

  She climbed down and waited for her legs to steady before crossing to the foot of the table. She made a great show of pulling the stirrups into position. The loud click of the metal snapping into place made his body jerk. After she placed his feet in the holders and tied them down, she lowered the end of the table and stepped between his spread legs.

  At his groin, his cock pulsed hot and heavy. The shaft was so thick and red it was almost obscene in appearance, and she did love obscene. She ran the tip of her finger up the seam of his sac and smiled as he whimpered.

  From her drawer of tools she withdrew a small anal plug and a tube of lubricant. When he saw the appliance in her hand, he began to struggle in his bonds and let loose a stream of curses. The restraints creaked and the skin around his wrist turned bright red, but she sensed that all of his snarling was not caused by pain. That was until she flicked the cage around his ball sac with her fingers.

  “Silence,” she said in what Madeline called her Maleficent voice. Deep, booming and unforgiving.

  Once his moans settled into whimpers, she teased his puckered hole, around and around with the tip of her finger. Oh, there was nothing more delicious than watching a big, strong man squirm as he had his asshole played with. Despite his protestations, he was loving it, judging by the way he pushed back against her. She added a generous amount of lubricant then inserted the small plug in a slow glide. She flipped the switch on the bottom of the plug and grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed hard.

  “Are you ready to come, Rookie?” she asked and worked his shaft up and down with her hand.

  “Fuck yes.”

  “Where do you want it?”

  His feverish stare nailed her in the eyes. His nostrils flared and the tendons of his neck stood out in stark relief as he snarled, “Down your throat. Every drop.”

  If it was possible to orgasm by words alone, she did so as he raged at her like a raving beast. There was no doubt in her mind that if he were free, he’d be on her in an instant, tearing her apart as he fed his lust.

  And sweet heaven above, she wanted him to. She wanted him to hold her down and pillage her body for his relief.

  But not today. Tomorrow she would examine these newly found longings this beautiful man aroused within her. Today she was in charge and she would take from him what she wanted.

  Her hands shook as she released the straps and slipped off the cock ring and condom.

  Precum oozed from the tip, opaque and creamy. “Watch me and come,” she said and swallowed his cock until he hit the back of her throat.

  His hips lifted off the table as the first stream shot out so hard, she didn’t even taste it. The second and third were just as fierce but spread acros
s her tongue with a sweet aftertaste.

  As he bellowed, she smiled. He had done as instructed and drunk the juice before he arrived.

  She used both hands and a firm suction to milk him of every drop, just as he wanted. The plug in his ass kept his orgasm going for several long seconds and added another level of ecstasy she could see turn him inside out.

  The power she held over him was like a drug heightening the senses. Her vision was sharper, her skin more sensitive. She couldn’t get enough of his texture, his taste, the sounds he made as he continued to jerk in his bonds. The dichotomy was amusing. She, a mere woman, made this big, strong man turn into a sobbing heap and made him love it.

  Whether he realized it or not, she just made him her slave. Only she had the power to make him feel that good, that elated, that treasured. Who wouldn’t kill for an opportunity to feel that way again?

  But as Spider-Man often said, with great power came great responsibility. Riding a high of endorphins made him a danger to not only himself but to her as well. One brief loss of focus on her part could result in an injury to them both.

  As if she was in any shape to take care of either of them. Her legs shook as she walked to the bar to retrieve a set of warm, wet towels. The weakness made her smile in victory. What better indicator of success than feeling as if her quadriceps were on fire?

  Aftercare was one of her favorite moments of playtime. Seeing the results of her work, demonstrating to her sub that they meant more to her than a plaything, even though she may have treated them as such not moments before. But she truly cared for her lovers, and this was her preferred method of showing them her affection.

  “I’m going to step away to call a steward to carry you to the bed,” she said once he was unbound and the last bit of lipstick was removed from his skin.

  “No.” He latched on to her wrist with surprising strength. “I can make it.”

  “And fall to the floor the second you try to stand.”

  “I can make it.” He dark gaze sought hers. “If you’ll lie beside me. I can make it. Even if I have to crawl.”

  Her breath caught and a shiver stole across her bare skin. “This time,” she conceded and stepped away from the table.

  At least he took his time in sitting up and waited with a few shallow breaths before trying to stand. He wobbled the few steps to the bed but made it under his own power before collapsing onto the mattress.

  She stifled a chuckle and crawled in beside him then drew the covers over their bodies.

  “That’s nice,” he murmured and drew her close. Sleep tugged at his eyelids and she expected him to pass out at any second.

  Only he didn’t fall asleep. He lay quiet in her arms as she traced the lines of the muscles in his chest and shoulders with the tips of her fingers, yet his lips quivered and his brow furrowed as if he had something on his mind but didn’t know how to ask.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked and brushed his hair off his forehead.

  “Amazing. Light.” He let go with a dry chuckle. “Humble. I had no idea… I guess I should turn in my man card.”

  “Why? Because I penetrated your ass?”

  He laughed. “No. Because I bawled like a kid and felt completely helpless.”

  “And you liked it.”

  He looked into her eyes. “I loved it. I just didn’t realize I was so weak.”

  “Being submissive is not a sign of weakness, remember?” She reached out and twisted his nipple. “A weak man would have run, not reveled in the pleasure.”

  “Right, right. I guess I never considered how…intense this whole experience would be.”

  “And we’ve only begun.”

  “I won’t survive,” he moaned, but his smile suggested he wouldn’t mind, then the smile faltered. “Am I performing as you expected?”

  Ah, man-speak for “do you like me?”

  “Yes. You are.”

  “Better than expected?”

  “No.”

  “No?” His brows shot up. “What do you mean no?”

  “I expected perfection.”

  “Oh,” he breathed out on sigh, then his eyes widened as he understood her meaning and a smug grin spread across his lips. “Good. That’s good.” He melted deeper into the mattress. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You may.”

  The smile turned into a smirk at the subtle correction of his grammar. “How was your day?”

  “How was my day?”

  “Yeah.”

  How was your day?

  Each word on its own she understood. Even those words combined into a query, she was able to comprehend, yet at the moment it was as if he were speaking a foreign language.

  “How was my day?” she repeated with a pause between each word.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a simple question. Did you work today? Did you run errands or meet with friends? Was it good, or did you have one of those days when you want to bitch at the world, or did something neat catch your eye that made you glad to be alive?”

  “My day was…fine,” she answered slowly, still uncertain as to the motivation behind the question. “Why do you ask?”

  “You go to great lengths in taking care of me and I wonder who takes care of you?”

  She drew back in surprise. “I do.”

  “Then where is your release? When are you able to step away and relax?”

  “Being with you like this is my release.”

  “And afterwards? Who bathes the sweat from your body? Who tucks you into bed? Who is there for you to lean on and make sure you’re getting what you need?”

  “I, um…I—” Her throat closed up and suddenly it felt as if the blankets wrapped around her chest tightened to steal her breath away.

  The relationship Marco was describing was what “normal” people had. It was coexisting, long-term, intimate on a level far greater than what the two of them shared, yet far more superficial as well.

  There was only so much time she had to devote to another person. It wasn’t fair to pretend to offer more than the brief moments she painstakingly carved out for her submissives as she did now. Did she ever long for more? On occasion. And then she’d see one of her colleagues at the hospital embroiled in a spat with their significant other, and the longing died.

  However, lounging besides Marco’s warm body, with his sexy half-smile just inches away from her as they shared the same pillow made her question her “Cavern only” policy.

  Foolish thoughts. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and shrugged as if the idea amused her. “You want to give me a bath? That can be arranged.”

  “I mean it. Who takes care of you, Jasmine? I mean, Mistress.”

  The use of her name was deliberate and they both knew it. His gaze fell to her lips, which softened in response. With a slight tilt of her head, her lips would be on his. Touching, rubbing, tasting him in a way she had yet to do.

  Tears welled in her eyes and that panicky feeling returned to take flight in her chest like the flutter of hummingbird wings. To kiss him right then would not be as a Dom with her sub, but as a woman kissing a man. Neither one in charge. No one steering the ship. Chaos created on a whisper.

  Marco shifted a scant millimeter closer. His hand on her arm tightened, subtly pulling her closer toward him although they lay breast to chest. As the puff of his breath kissed her cheek, the lights flickered.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  A timely reprieve.

  She drew back with a small sigh of relief. And the captain thought a little anal play was intense.

  “Someone’s at the door. A flashing light is less obtrusive than a knock or doorbell. Come in,” she said in the door’s direction in a raised voice.

  When Jax entered the room, she immediately sat up. The bouncer would never interrupt her unless it was an emergency, and the clench of his jaw only added to her concern.

  “Sorry, Jasmine,” he said from
the door. “Madeline’s sub is having chest pains. Apparently the dumbass took a blue pill and he’s on heart medication.”

  Men. Son of a bitch.

  She looked back to Marco and mentally cursed again. He looked so cute and rumpled lying against the bedding. She wanted to stay by his side, but duty called.

  “Rookie, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Go.” He settled deeper into the pillows. “I’m fine right here. Take as long as you need.”

  “Your adrenaline is still crashing.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Jax offered.

  “No offense, but I can look out for myself,” he huffed.

  “No offense,” she responded for the bouncer. “I don’t want you falling to the floor. Be good.” She ran her hand down his chest before climbing off the bed to dress. “Besides, I don’t want anyone else to stumble upon you and think you’re ripe for the taking. And Jax will wait outside and come in only if he hears the thud of your body hitting the hardwood.”

  “I’ll try not to be so irresistible,” he said with a smug grin.

  “Rest.” She pulled the covers up over his chest and dropped a kiss on his forehead. Oh, why did he have to be so adorable?

  The moment she stepped out into the hall she asked Jax, “Has 9-1-1 been called?”

  “Of course. He’s in the clinic now. I’ll fill you in on the way then come back for your man.”

  The clinic was the name of the onsite medical room they used for any emergency situation. When one combined alcohol, sex and people in one location, it was inevitable a crisis would erupt, and Amaryllis liked to be prepared to take care of the people under her roof. All of the bouncers were trained in first aid, but Jasmine was often asked to assist in the more serious situations until medics arrived.

  “He’s sweating like a pig and breathing hard, trying to make it seem as if he’s fine, but you can tell he’s hurting.”

  “Understood.”

  “So…” he said in a way that put her instantly on edge. “I didn’t take the cop for a screamer.”

  “Don’t you know, Jax? I turn them all into screamers.”

  “I know.” He chuckled. “But I have to admit, Jaz, I was getting turned on hearing you work him over. When’s his contract up? I may have to petition you to take his place.”