Bash, Volume III

by Candace Blevins

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bash

  It was still dark outside when I was awakened by her smell being off again. It wasn’t like before, though, so I stayed still as I keyed in on what was going on.

  I smelled adrenaline and fear, but not terror — so a scary dream, but not a nightmare. Her arms and legs jerked, but she was fighting, not running, so I didn’t try to wake her. I stayed alert until it was over, but I didn’t shift to human. We hadn’t been asleep long, and there was still plenty of time for a nightmare. Plus, I only needed to change if I was going to wake her, and it seemed best to let her sleep through this.

  When her scent and breathing returned to normal, I drifted back off as well. I wanted to get up and patrol the apartment, but the bedroom door was closed and Princess had round doorknobs.

  * * * *

  The next time I awakened, it was daylight outside and Angelica was still sleeping soundly. I heard people outside, tourists on the riverwalk and bridge, cars driving by, and the sound electricity makes behind the walls. It all seemed normal, so why was I awake?

  Ah, I had to pee.

  I jumped down from the bed and focused on how it felt to be a man, how my fingers felt, my tongue, my cock. The human surfaced, the wolf backed off, and I stood on two legs, wiggling my fingers and toes as I settled back into this body.

  I felt Angelica looking at me, and I grinned at her. “My bladder woke me up.”

  “Do you still have to pee?”

  “No. I never do. I figure, we come back into our other bodies as perfect specimens, which means all the impurities in our blood are cleaned. I wonder, could someone change every time they have to pee, and never have to go to the bathroom again?”

  “I don’t know. I’m forever grateful to my mom for making me start shaving before my hair started growing on my legs, pits, and pussy. I never had it, so I never saw myself with it, so I come back to human without it. Some women come back with a full bush, and pit hair, and long leg hair every damned time.”

  I ran my hand over my beard with a grimace. “Yeah, I have to trim it when I come back, unless I want to look scruffy.”

  She looked at the clock, then back to me. “It’s only nine-thirty, are you up for the day, or could you go back to sleep?”

  “More sleep sounds good, but I need breakfast.” My stomach growled as I spoke, and her eyes sparkled at me as she laughed, truly happy.

  “Well then, we should eat. I moved some steaks to the fridge yesterday, how about steak, eggs, bacon, biscuits, and gravy?”

  * * * *

  I kissed and teased her a little while we cooked, but the agreement had been for this to start at noon, so I didn’t get her too worked up.

  “Do you remember any of your dreams last night?” I asked as we carried the food to the table.

  She came to a dead stop and stared at me as she nodded her head. “Yeah, the van scene played out again, and I killed them before we got to wherever the hell we went, and then I drove the van off a bridge, but jumped out just before it went over, and turned to wolf and ran home.”

  “Wouldn’t work in real life, because the cops would find the bodies in the van and there’d be questions, but it sounds like a damned fine way to go in a dream.”

  “Yeah, it was. Thanks for arranging for the guys to help me yesterday.”

  “I’ve never had to worry about being taken that way. None of my enemies are ever going to want to fuck me, and if they want me dead bad enough to take action, they’ll likely do it from a distance with a sniper rifle.”

  Too late, I realized I’d just said the wrong thing, because she turned white as a sheet and put her fork down, her eyes focused on her plate while waves of grief and fear poured off her.

  “I’m sorry, Princess. No one’s gonna take me out. I’m just saying none of my enemies want to be within reach of my fists.”

  She took a breath, let it out, and looked at me, her eyes watery. “No, you were right, but it isn’t like I hadn’t already figured it out. You’ve made a lot of enemies as the Sergeant at Arms. I may not know who they are, or the details of what you’ve done, but common sense says they’re numerous already and the number will only grow.” She gave me a brave but sad smile, and my heart broke for her. “My dad told me, if he’d had a choice to not marry my mom in the first place, so he wouldn’t have hurt so bad when she was killed, he’d have still married her, and treasured every minute he had with her until he lost her. I’m choosing to do the same with you.”

  Now it was my turn to be speechless. First, that her dad had been on my side, and second, that she’d chosen to give me her heart and join her life with mine when she assumed I was going to leave her by getting myself killed. Dawg had talked to me about the impact losing her mom had likely had, and about her fear of losing people close to her, so I was careful with my wording.

  “Won’t make promises I can’t keep, but it isn’t my intention to do something boneheaded and get myself killed. I’m looking forward to growing old with you, having you around past our hundredth birthday.”

  “I know, Bash, and I don’t want to talk about it. Want to focus on the beautiful day. Want to have fun.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Angelica

  I’d expected him to tease the hell out of me all damned day, but he’d only brought me to the edge maybe a half-dozen times, and then had just gotten me moderately horny another couple dozen times. Somehow, he managed to do it without pissing me off, but maybe that’s because we spent a good part of the day on his bike, flying around curvy mountain roads.

  Now, it was nearly eight o’clock, and I was naked in my bed and determined I wasn’t going to beg him to get me off. He wasn’t going to let me come for another two hours — begging would be pointless.

  So I lay on my back, my legs spread with Bash’s hands on the backs of my thighs making sure they stayed up and apart, and I moaned as his oh-so-fucking-skillful tongue worked me over from asshole to clit, and everywhere in between.

  I tried to stay relaxed, tried to enjoy the sensations without getting too worked up, but Bash was too good and he played me like he was an exceptionally skilled musician and I was his instrument.

  When I was millimeters from coming, he pulled his mouth away and blew lightly over my heated skin, drying me out and cooling me off, and I swallowed the growl that wanted to come out. He could smell my frustration, no need to give it to him vocally, too.

  Plus, he’d cajoled me into agreeing to follow all orders pertaining to sex until midnight tonight, or he could punish me however he saw fit. I was terrified that would mean making me wait past ten o’clock to come, so I was doing everything I could to obey his orders.

  He pushed a single finger into my pussy and chuckled sadistically at my moan. “Mother Nature made pussies get all warm when they want to be fucked, but assholes don’t have that feature.” He took his finger out. “So, if one wants to fuck a warm ass, one must flog the hell out of it, first.” He sat back and ordered. “Roll over, stick your ass up, get your knees under you, and reach back and spread your cheeks, Princess.”

  What the hell had made me agree to follow orders?! I glared at him, but then rolled over, pushed my ass up, and reached back to spread my cheeks. Fuck.

  I’d determined to stay in place, but the first strike was right on my fucking asshole, and it hurt like holy hell. I came up, twisted around, and sat on my butt as I exclaimed, “Shit, Fuck! What the hell?!”

  He showed me a short little whippy thing. “It’s a rubber flogger, made out of bicycle inner tubes, with a piece of metal pipe inside the other end for a handle. I have a thick rubber strop, too, but figured it would be a little much for your first asshole beating. Turn back around, Angelica — want to make your cute, tight little asshole hot before I stick my cock in it.”

  I sat still and stared at him, and he said, “Or, I can bend you over and give you twenty of the best with my belt, and then you can spread your cheeks for me to flog your asshole.”
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  I kept glaring at him, and his voice softened as he said, “Trust me, Princess. Has today been terrible, or has it been kind of fun? I know I’m frustrating you, but that’s part of it. You’ll see, when I finally get you off so many times you lose count, tonight, it’ll all make sense. Okay?”

  I still didn’t say anything, and he smirked. “I can smell your arousal, Princess. Turn around and stick your fucking ass in the air.”

  He didn’t say it mean, though how that came off as affectionate, I can’t explain. It had the desired result, though, because I stuck my tongue out at him, and then turned and assumed the position once again.

  The next couple of strikes weren’t so bad — whether he backed off on them, or whether I knew what to expect, I’m not sure. Eventually, he hit harder, and I yelped and wiggled, but it wasn’t all bad.

  Good hurt.

  Even as the thought filtered through my brain, I wished it hadn’t been Thomas who’d introduced me to the term. Still, it was a perfectly good way to describe it. I needed to come up with something better, though. Delicious hurt. Yeah, that worked.

  He hit me hard three times in a row, and growled, “I want your mind back on me, Angelica. Not sure where you went, but I want you here, present, and feeling every damned thing I’m doing to you.”

  “Sorry, shit, that hurt. Not so hard! Please!”

  “I know what you need, Princess. Spread your cheeks a little wider for me.”

  I adjusted my grip and felt the skin between my fingers stretch, and wondered what was making me want to do this. The rubber strands landed again and again, most of the strikes bearable, but he’d occasionally give me three or four hard ones in a row that had me crawling up the bed to escape, and then he’d order me back into position and I’d have to spread myself for him all over again.

  The whole experience was horrible and awful and terrible and... divine. Don’t ask how it could be all of those things, because I can’t make sense of it, either, but even though I didn’t want this to be happening, I also didn’t want it to stop.

  He didn’t stop, though, and he gave no signs that he intended to anytime soon. I let go of my ass cheeks, flexed my fingers, and grabbed them again. He paused when I broke position, and didn’t order me back to it right away, but then hit me a lot harder for the next dozen or so strikes, until I was squealing and yelping, but I didn’t crawl up the bed away from him this time.

  Just when it felt as if the rubber were taking a tiny bit of skin off with every strike, he stopped, lubed a finger and pressed it into me.

  “Mmmm. Getting warm, but we still have a ways to go.”

  He withdrew the finger and wiped lube all around my asshole before he struck it with the rubber flogger again.

  The sting and slap were worse on my now-oiled asshole area, but the rubber strands slid off without feeling as if they were pulling skin cells with them.

  The knowledge he’d known there was a problem and fixed it, let me relax, and I found I could enjoy the experience a little more.

  I pulled my bottom a little farther apart, and then gave a long, low moan as the next series of strikes were just the right speed and strength to feel good.

  And then I froze, because as he said, “That’s what I want out of you, Angelica,” I smelled relief flooding from him. He’d been worried I hadn’t been enjoying it. He’d known I was aroused, but there’s a difference in aroused and hating it, and aroused and enjoying it.

  I hadn’t exactly hated it before, but I hadn’t been into it, either. Not like I was now.

  Fuck. He’d done so much to make my fantasies come true, and I wasn’t even trying to work with him on this. He’d asked me to trust him a dozen times, but I hadn’t. Not really.

  He’d had to show me he knew what was going on with me, show me how in tune he was with me, before I’d gotten it.

  “Will you give me five hard ones, please?”

  He stopped a second, then went back to giving me the same tempo and strength of the ones he’d been delivering. “Why?”

  “I didn’t trust you,” I told him, determined to hold position and not let go of my cheeks again. “You asked me to, but I didn’t, and I want to make it up to you.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but trust me to know what I’m doing now, too. You’ll get harder strikes later, and a lot more than five, but it isn’t time yet. Good to know I’ve earned a little trust, though.”

  I hadn’t seen this as the same kind of things Thomas had done to me in his dungeon, because Thomas had been so clear on negotiating ahead of time, and Bash was doing it whether I wanted him to or not. But, it finally all fell into place for me, and I understood how it was the same thing, because Bash knew me inside and out, knew what I liked, and could smell my arousal, or distress.

  I pushed my bottom towards him, practically begging for him to hit harder, or fuck my ass, or something. I wanted more, though I didn’t know exactly what I wanted more of.

  “Talk to me, Angelica. Why are you frustrated?”

  “I wasn’t fair to you, and I can’t explain why right now, but I get it, and I’m sorry I fought you. I can’t promise I won’t fight you again next time, but thanks for pushing me.” I stopped to get a few breaths and try to put my thoughts together — not the easiest thing to do when someone is raining down lashes on your asshole. The strikes weren’t especially hard right now, but still.

  “I love you,” I continued. “Want to be your fantasy. Want to be what you need.”

  “You’re exactly what I need and want, Princess, you just need to get out of the way and let me show you.”

  Fuck, was it normal to have this kind of conversation in the middle of an asshole flogging? I drew enough breath in to speak, and said, “Yeah, I’m getting that. Sorry it took me so long.”

  “We have the rest of our lives, Princess.”

  Several long minutes later he stopped, touched my asshole again as if checking to see how hot he’d made it, and said, “Okay, twenty this time, and they’re gonna hurt. If you can’t stay in place for them, or at least back up and spread again for me, then I’ll put you over my lap and do it, but I’m hoping you can find it in you to cooperate.”

  I settled my knees into the bed again, arched my back, and readjusted my grip so my cheeks were spread wide — determined to do as he asked.

  Until the first strike landed and I found myself across the room before I realized I’d moved. It took me a few breaths before I could form words, but even then, all I could manage was, “Fuck.”

  “Nineteen more. Get back in place.”

  He wasn’t mad or frustrated, just matter of fact. And he looked like he’d have some patience with me, if I needed a minute. I started to tell him there was no way I could take one more, much less nineteen, but the words froze before I got them out. I breathed in deep, let it out, and nodded as I stepped towards the bed.

  As I got into place, I could hear the sincerity in his voice as he said, “Thanks, Princess. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Don’t suppose my cooperation will grant me some mercy?”

  “If I gave you mercy we’d both be disappointed in me.”

  A small scream escaped on the next strike, and I fell forwards and then sideways on the bed, curled into a ball. The thing about having your asshole flogged, is you can’t really rub it to make it feel better.

  I managed to stay in place for a few of the god-awful strikes, but when I couldn’t manage to stay put, Bash was patient with me as he told me to get back in position. He held me a few times, told me how much he loved me, and then helped me back onto my knees and chest, coached me back to the way he wanted me.

  I don’t know when I started crying. The tears weren’t for the pain — though it certainly hurt — but for the emotions between us, the promise he’d given me to stick with all twenty, and the passion, love, and commitment I gave him, in baring my asshole for him, knowing full well it would hurt, but showing him this was important. He was important.

 
“Need you to stay here, after this one,” he told me, as I got back in place for the final strike. “It’s going to be harder than any of the others, and you can fall forward if you want, but I need you to not run.”

  “I’ll try,” I told him through my tears.

  “I know you will. If you can’t, it’s okay. All I ask is that you try.”

  Somehow, I managed to stay where I was. My upper torso came off the bed, but my hands stayed on my butt, my cheeks stayed spread, and I sucked air in as I tried to deal with the sharp, fiery, stinging pain on one of the most sensitive, usually protected (when in human form) parts of my body.

  It didn’t take me long to realize why he wanted me to stay in place, because he pressed my upper back to the bed with the palm of one hand, touched the tip of his cock to my asshole, and forced his thick length inside. He didn’t go slow, didn’t let me adjust — he just shoved all the way home in one long slide, and he held me in place as he invaded my backside despite my squeals.

  It isn’t like I wasn’t warmed up and lubed — he’d had two fingers in me a couple of times, and I was slick, but the entire area felt bruised, hot, and swollen. There simply didn’t seem to be enough room for him, and yet he started fucking me with long, smooth strokes, and his groan was so deep it sounded as if it came from his toes, all the way through is body, and out his throat in slow motion.

  His noises, his obvious pleasure, totally did it for me. I was reminded me how much enjoyment he was getting from my body, from using me and taking me, from making my asshole hot so his cock would enjoy it more. I heard myself groaning back, in harmony with him, and I reached for my clit but Bash grabbed my arm and held it to the small of my back. “Not time for you to come yet, Angelica. I’m gonna come deep in your ass, though, knowing you’re frustrated and horny while I find a goddamned beautiful release.”