White Leather and No Regrets

by Adrianna Dane

  “Yes, I love him, sir.” Was she just being obstinate? Was she trying to hold onto Ariyel because she felt a certain level of safety that she wasn’t sure she felt with Creed?

  “And what do you feel for me?”

  She didn’t answer him—she couldn’t. She didn’t dare examine her feelings.

  “Don’t forget your safe word. I mean this to be a hard session. Likely you’ll want to use it.”

  But she knew she wouldn’t. She wanted—she needed—him to know she could take whatever he dished out. And that’s what it had come to.

  He was as good as his word. The crop came down across her buttocks, across her shoulders, time and again. Her body burned, it raged, as more and more of Creed’s marks decorated her flesh.

  She screamed and still he drove her further and further until she was flying so high—so high she felt the rapture embrace her.

  “Fuck me!” she screamed. Such pain, such beauty. Her body was no longer her own. She was his, all his, every single bit of her belonged to Creed. She embraced the pain, loved it…loved him for giving it to her. Yes, she loved him. And then that most beautiful pain soared through her as he entered her, pushing into her ass, stretching her. She shattered, she came with a force that ripped her apart, then reformed her. She felt him come, pulsing inside her. Pleasure and pain so perfectly blended. So beautiful.

  It was a long time later, while sitting in the hot tub, that she finally came more fully back into herself. Creed was there but Ariyel was still absent. It was Creed who had taken care of her. Usually it was Ariyel.

  “It’s all changed, hasn’t it?” she said rather dreamily. “He’s left.”

  “He had to go away on business. Out of town this time.”

  “I usually go with him.”

  “Not this time. This time you’re staying with me.”

  “So I’m handed over just that easily.”

  He pulled her up out of the water and they walked into the bedroom. He stood her before the mirror, her back and ass exposed to the mirror. The stripes were still there, raw and red. Creed’s marks. And she loved the look of them. Then she looked at Creed.

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t expect it.”

  “You didn’t know yourself. But Ariyel knew, right from the start.” He held up a beaten piece of rawhide. He also held up another white braided leather collar. “You have a choice to make. Mine or his.”

  “But he’s not here to give me his collar if I want it.”

  “Do you?” He set down the rawhide and picked up a cell phone. “If I call him, he’ll come back. He’s still at the college, still close enough if that’s what you want. He’ll collar you. And you’ll be his.”

  “And I’ll never see you again is that right?”

  Creed shrugged. “You take your chances.”

  “Am I your only one?”

  His express turned remote. “Does it matter? Is that a question you think you have the right to ask?”

  “Do I have to give up Ariyel?”

  “If you accept my collar, there’s a certain responsibility and commitment in that.” He set the cell phone back down and picked up the strip of rawhide.

  “In other words, if you say I can fuck him, then I can fuck him.” She eyed the collars, her stomach churning. This was an important moment, a life-changing decision.

  “Something like that.”

  So much had changed. The choice was hers. She stepped to the side, to the hand he held the rawhide collar in, and she knelt, bowing her head. The decision was made. He bound it around her neck with a simple knot. It was done.

  He set the white braided collar aside, then helped her up and led her over to the bed. He sheathed his cock. She gazed up at him as she knelt on the bed. She felt the weight of the collar around her neck. He kissed her, then he pushed her back onto the bed. Her back, still sensitive, burned against the cool, white silk sheets. Creed spread her thighs. The clit ring gleamed in the light. Slowly, he fucked in the manner only Ariyel had done so before.

  “Mine,” Creed said, then plunged into her moist wet pussy. “Say it.”

  She thrust against him, taking him deeper. “Yours, sir. Only yours.”

  He wound his hand in her hair, dragged her head back. He leaned down, pulled a nipple into his mouth, and tongued the ring. He thrust deep, then shallow. Each time she came close to climaxing, he slowed, his cock filling her. As soon as the desire to climax became manageable, somehow he knew and began to ride her again, then again, and then again. Time stopped or sped up, Ren couldn’t be sure which. It seemed he fucked her forever, time without end. Until finally she heard the words. His cock felt so big inside her, stretching her, completing her. The pain in her back, the stripes decorating her flesh, meshed together.

  “Come, Ren. Now.”

  And she did. Powerfully, irretrievably, he claimed every bit of her power for himself.

  And as usual, she didn’t look back and she had no regrets. She was content to give Creed everything, including that which had once belonged to her lover, Ariyel.

  * * *

  His. She was at peace standing here in the garden, like a statue, waiting for her master. She had given herself, wholeheartedly, with her whole being and without reserve. And when he appeared through the doors and stood above her on the marble steps, her joy was unequaled and unencumbered.

  A large, powerful man, dark and demanding. When he reached her, she dropped to her knees, bowed her head, offered him the crop. Black leather.

  “Welcome home, Master.”

  He took the crop from her. He pulled a black leather leash from his jacket pocket. She spread her legs wider. He leaned down to clip the end of the leash to her clit ring, then tugged, signaling her to rise. He led her down the pathway to the white iron trellis. Every couple of steps he tugged lightly on the leash and a shudder of pleasure rippled through her.

  It had been more than a month now since she’d last seen Ariyel. It was a week ago that Creed had surprised her with a black leather braided collar to replace the rawhide. She realized she hadn’t missed Ariyel as much as she thought she would. The black braided leather felt right around her neck. The clothes in her closet had been replaced as well.

  Creed hung the leash up from a hook on the side of the trellis. He then cuffed first one arm above her head in white leather, and then the other. They’d given her time to change her mind. She hadn’t. She glanced around the garden, inhaled the fragrant scent. Then exhaled slowly. Creed bound first one leg in white leather, and then the other, spreading her wide.

  He moved in front of her. He reached out to flick a nipple. The rings had been replaced. Black ebony glimmered in the dying light. He opened a case setting on the table and settled a weight onto one of her nipple rings. She hissed as she took the stretch. He settled another onto the other ring. And then one more on her clit ring.

  “Master,” she moaned.

  He straightened to look at her. He pressed two fingers into her wetness. “You want this badly. Are you sorry you’re leaving him for good?”

  She looked into his eyes. “I love you, sir. Haven’t I shown how much?” she said. Was there anything else to say?

  “I know. But you realize we won’t be coming back here after tonight?”

  “I love you,” she said. “Only you can make me happy.” She leaned into the bite of the weights as they swung free.

  He removed the silver mask, tossed it aside, then walked behind her and gripped her ass. The tattoo was healed. He’d asked her to have it done several weeks before. Black roses now stretched down her spine, curling over each cheek of her ass. Ending on one side in the subtly masked letter C and on the other cheek the letter B. Black gothic lettering blending seamlessly in with the black roses. She loved that she was marked as his.

  “I’m yours, Master.”

  “What’s your safe word?” he asked.

  Every part of her began to tingle. “Cornmeal. My safe word is cornmeal.” But she’d never use
it—not with Creed. Never.

  He held the crop up to her lips and she kissed it. Then he stepped around behind her. She gazed at the lush green vegetation around her. She inhaled the sweet cleansing aroma of the garden.

  “I’m not touching your back yet. The markings are too fresh. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. He ran his hand across her shoulder, down her spine. He brought it back up to cup her neck, his fingers stroking across her throat, across the collar. His arm curled around her and he released the first weight, letting it drop to the ground. He cupped her breast; he stroked his thumb across her throbbing nipple. He released her, then did the same to her other breast.

  He had wonderful hands, strong hands. Her whole focus was on his hands and what he was doing to her. With one hand he stroked between her labia. The weight swung, sending a shock of sensation flooding her. He circled her clit, then released the weight. She almost came. Her passions rose as he stroked over her—neck, shoulders, arms, back, ass. Her whole body throbbed from clit to nipples, soaring upward to her mouth, as he explored inside with his thick fingers. He took his time, driving her higher and higher.

  “Now, my Ren. Are you ready for me? I think you are.”

  The first sting of the crop soared through her as it striped the back of her thighs. She gasped and then sighed and smiled.

  I love you, Creed. I’m yours, Master. She glanced at the discarded mask that had started her journey and then she looked away, focused on Creed. Ariyel was a good man, but not the man for her, though it had taken her some time to realize it. Yet, she would always think of him kindly. He’d taught her so much.

  The crop landed across her thighs again. Then again. The familiar sensation lanced through her, exciting her, making her tingle and throb and burn.

  In the end it was Creed who truly understood her heart and soul. He hadn’t forced her—neither man had. What she gave, where she was, whom she wanted—was her choice and hers alone.

  She’d leave this house with nothing of Ariyel’s. Everything she was now belonged to Creed. Only Creed.

  Even her, body and soul.

  She didn’t look back and she had no regrets.

  The black leather crop came down again, sending a blinding pleasure-pain deep into her wet pussy. Tears of joy and raw emotion wetted her cheeks. He stepped around in front of her. She couldn’t keep the groan from passing between her lips, her thighs burning. He looked into her eyes. His eyes were so black—the color of the new rings piecing her nipples, her clit. She saw herself in his ebony eyes. Then he kissed her deeply, breathlessly. His fingertips blazed a path down across her breasts, her ribs, danced between her labia, teased her clit, tugged lightly on her ring. He cupped her throat.

  “Mine, pretty Ren. Mine.”

  He stepped away and brought the crop down across her breasts, until her breasts burned with passion, striped red with his ardor. He studied her and his handiwork for a long moment. Then again he wielded the crop, this time between her legs. She screamed.

  Creed. My truest love. Love me harder.

  Ren sighed in agonizing ecstasy as he gave her exactly what she needed. She screamed her love from the very depths of her soul. No regrets.

  ~ 0 ~

  Author Bio

  Adrianna Dane has been putting pen to paper since the age of ten. She currently

  resides in the state of Washington. She has a great fondness for using a fountain pen when writing her first drafts. Hobby interests are varied, including photography and traveling.

  The first defining love story Adrianna read back in junior high school was “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte, and that set her on the road to her long-standing love affair with books of all genres. Her inspiration in writing often can be found by listening to song lyrics, from hard rock to classical, and reading poetry by such poets as Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edgar Allen Poe, and Ranier Maria Rilke. But finding inspiration for her stories truly has no boundaries for Adrianna.

  In 2006, her dark fantasy GLBT story, Body Parts, won its category in the Dream Realm Awards. Adrianna has written more than 100 stories, short, novella, and novel length, delving into many facets of the human condition - contemporary, futuristic, and fantasy, and all the flavors therein and in between. In other words, wherever the story and the characters, as well as their intricate stories, take her imagination, then her pen and/or computer keyboard, are sure to follow.

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