by Stone, Piper
“You challenge me,” he murmured, fingering his glass.
Looking across the tiny table, studying the man who’d become my master was a reminder of the first night in Chicago and that he had two distinct sides. “A good girl wouldn’t do that, now would she? Her master’s hand is always present and available.”
Jagger chuckled, his eyes twinkling, even in the shadows. “Touché, my lovely Lola.”
The music filling the dense space was wild, a pulsing like jungle beat fueling the young crowd. Bodies gyrated to the music as the liquor flowed. Everywhere there was the scent of sex mixed with exotic perfumes. Men and women were barely dressed, the sexual banter more in line with three in the morning instead of in the extreme heat of the afternoon.
But I had to admit, I was fueled, so alive. I couldn’t escape watching the women, their legs spread open, grinding against first one exquisite and rugged man then another. There were no inhibitions, no apparent couples and I envisioned a heated orgy, legs wrapped around slickened skin, men eating pussies while women deep-throated first one then another, the scent of cum filling the air.
“You’re intrigued by the atmosphere,” he stated as he leaned closer, a single finger brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes.
I crossed my legs then re-crossed, the act a blatant overture. I was allowed to be another woman, sexy and vivacious. “Yes, very much so.”
“And what do you see?”
“Sex. Copious amounts of delicious sex.”
“And you can see yourself joining in?”
“Perhaps,” I purred, giving him a slanted look, the tips of my fingers dancing absently across the skin under my jaw.
“But only if I allow,” he half whispered, his tone of voice oozing with lust.
I licked my lips in an exaggerated fashion, cognizant of the effect I was having on him.
“You’re a very bad girl and you do know what bad girls deserve.”
“Yes, sir, but I’m also a very good girl.”
He snickered under his breath and pulled his wine to his lips. His eyes never left me as he took a sip, taking his time to savor and swallow the liquid. I remained fascinated by this man, the way he acted, the way he dressed. He was far too enticing.
Jagger tipped his head when another customer came in, narrowing his eyes as if studying the young man, determining if the newcomer posed any threat.
If we were being watched or followed, there was no way for me to tell. Jagger was far too relaxed, even enjoying the moment. However, the gun was still in his possession, although he hadn’t been flagrant about placement, preferring his usual clandestine approach to everything.
“What about the flogger?” I asked, merely to draw his attention back to the table. I was leaning further over, blowing several puffs of hot air in his direction.
“I’m sorry?”
“I thought the very disturbing looking flogger was the only surprise I deserved.”
He shook his head more out of amusement. I hadn’t expected such a change in his demeanor, or the dominating commands he’d given me through the day. This was an entirely different man, reeking of blatant confidence, as if screaming that if anyone fucked with him, they would do so at his peril. “The flogger is for later.”
“Then...” I swirled the tip of my finger around the glass, giving him a sultry look.
“You mentioned a fantasy and it’s one I’d like to fulfill.”
“I mentioned several.”
“Yes, you did and some of them you’re simply not ready for.” He tilted his head, studying my eyes.
I swallowed and lifted the glass, taking a sip, trying to figure out what he was referring to.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, absolutely no inflection in his voice.
“Yes.” Saying the single word held implications but I did trust him. There was no absolute reason why I should, especially given his credentials, but my instinct was almost never wrong.
“Then finish your wine.”
I heard the ring of his phone, could tell the interruption angered him. I looked away, trying to concentrate on the activity inches away, my lips longing to be kissed like the girl stretched out across the bar, the man holding her keeping his grip firm.
“I need to take this. I’ll be right back. Stay here.” His direction was firm, the single squeeze of my hand emphasizing his command. I didn’t have an opportunity to acknowledge before he hurried out of the café, moving out of my line of sight. There was no real reason for me to be nervous, but prickles occurred along the back of my neck, forcing me to rub my skin. My pulse was rapid, thumping against my fingers. Even my mouth was dry, terrified the intimacy would end.
Within seconds, I sensed eyes roaming me, a looming round of infused desire for the girl sitting alone. There was so much current flowing, voices louder, the music vibrating the floor under my feet. Suddenly, I was uncomfortable, almost terrified that I’d be left alone, a game in order to test my priorities, perhaps my loyalty. No. Jagger wasn’t heartless, at least with regard to my safety. A full two minutes passed and he hadn’t reappeared. I knew better than to search for him. That action alone would destroy our afternoon. He was not to be challenged in this kind of manner.
I craned my neck, searching for the restroom, for a few minutes of peace. The darkened hallway near the edge of the bar was the only obvious location. After gulping another sip and searching for Jagger with my eyes, I headed in the direction, pressing through several groups of people. Hands were everywhere, touching, groping, the soft brushes sensuous and inviting. I was breathless by the time I pushed my way through. The signs were in French and there was only one bathroom, unisex in design.
The tile floor was the first thing I noticed walking in, intricate in design, my slender heels clicking against the ceramic. There were several people inside, both men and women, and every one of them seemed to be studying my entrance. Urinals were next to two stalls and I waited until one was available, trying to drown out the mixed voices, the intense laughter. Once inside, I closed my eyes, counting to ten, then fifteen. And still, I could hear the music, the base thumping. I took several deep breaths, steadying my legs as I adjusted my panties, my hand resting on the knob for a solid minute.
Clicking and opening the door, I moved toward the sink, gazing at my reflection. The dress he’d selected was alluring, showing far too much cleavage, and almost the entire length of my legs. In flaming scarlet, the material hugged every curve, accentuating if not begging for hands to slide just underneath, exposing the slip of a thong, the sheerest lace. I noticed a couple in the mirror as I washed my hands. The raven-haired girl’s leg was wrapped around his thigh, her skirt riding up to the point I gathered a glimpse of her shorn pussy. There were no panties to hinder the man as his hand moved from her breast to her thigh, finally sliding between her legs.
The man was tanned, his body sleek and the way he whispered, captivating. I was mesmerized as he finger-fucked her, thrusting all four fingers inside. Exhaling in an exaggerated manner, he lifted her leg higher as he plunged in hard and fast. Her cherry-stained lips were pursed, her head lolled back, murmuring in French as she rolled her nipple between her fingers, pinching until she moaned.
I was hot and wet, my pussy clenching, watching the scene unfold. I had no fear of being seen, no care if they noticed me. I wanted this, to be enticed, turned on to the point I could no longer stand being without Jagger’s touch. My panties were soaked, the lace clinging to my skin and I hadn’t realized I’d eased my hand under my dress, rubbing myself, my fingers digging into my thong.
The man slowly turned his head, studying my reaction, a slight smile on his face. The glaze of lust in his eyes was similar to the way Jagger looked at me just moments before issuing the first strike along my backside or thrusting his cock deep inside my pussy. He licked his lips, as if appreciating my sinful act, whispering something in his native language that I couldn’t understand, but I certainly knew the meaning.
He was inviting m
e to their private party.
My breath skipped, beads of perspiration slickening my forehead and the skin above my lip. I wanted to be bad, the kind of nasty girl that my master had already created. I pushed aside the hindrance, plunging my fingers deep inside, rolling my thumb around my engorged clit. Every person in the room noticed, but ignored me, as if this was an everyday occurrence. Dear God, my heart was beating to the point I could hear the sound thrumming in my ears.
The girl gave me a glance with narrowed eyes, purring in my direction. She shifted her dress, exposing both breasts as the man unzipped his fly. The sight of his thick cock was delicious indeed, sending a shower of electricity shooting through every cell, every vein. I’d leaned further over the counter, enough so my heated breath flushed a jagged circle across the mirror. I blinked several times, trying to avoid the salty beads of raw sweat slipping into my eyes.
He slapped his cock across the girl’s pussy before leaning over, sucking on her neck. And all I could concentrate on was the way he teased her, driving her just as crazy with lust as I was. He beckoned with his head, blowing a single kiss before shoving the entire length of his cock into her cunt. I could smell the scent of their combined sex from where I stood, mixing with my own, the longing intensifying. I was no longer in control of my body, let alone my mind as I watched him fucking her in a savage fashion, drilling into her with enough force that her body was slammed against the wall.
The French girl purred and moaned, her leg twitching as he drove in hard and fast. Within seconds she was wailing, slapping her hand against the wall. Her creamy white skin was covered in a light perspiration, much like the sheen covering my face.
My fingers had a mind of their own, flexed open, pumping brutally. I could taste my own desire, the sweet and sultry combination lingering on my tongue. I heard a noise, yet I’d already sensed his presence, the volatile man that I could no longer resist.
The door had been flung open, Jagger’s massive body remaining in the entrance, his hand clenched around the edge of the door, obvious anger on his face. There was also something else. Fear. As if not being able to find me had driven him almost mad. His chest was heaving, and he issued the kind of low-slung growl as if preparing for battle and he was king.
I noticed his weapon, given the way he was standing, but his face was gut-wrenching. He was furious, and torn as his eyes settled on my action, shifting only once to take in the scene at hand. Then he shifted his head, issuing an elongated and husky breath. “Lola.” My name echoed in the humid space, floating toward the dilapidated ceiling, leaving every inch of my body tingling.
The couple didn’t bother stopping their sinful actions, even though I sensed at least the girl had seen the gun. Perhaps the slice of danger only added to the lascivious act, fueling their inhibitions.
He advanced, taking only two steps inside, allowing the door to swing shut. And suddenly, there was no one else in the room, at least in my mind. I no longer cared where we were or who might happen on the carnal acts being performed. I was Jagger’s submissive, ready to surrender.
I was panting, the longing in my loins further intensifying my wanton act. I was a very bad girl, disobedient in every manner and the way Jagger was glaring at me was suffocating. Moving directly behind me and pressing his groin against my ass, he snagged my wrist. His muscular hand squeezed, but instead of removing my fingers, he began using his to masturbate me. The feel of his throbbing cock slicing back and forth intensified my yearning. The way he stared into the mirror, his eyes never blinking, so full of unbridled ferocity was overwhelming. It was as if he could devour me in the middle of this tawdry bathroom, feasting as others watched.
“You disobeyed me,” he whispered so that only I could hear.
“Yes, sir.” As he pumped my own fingers deep inside, the force bordering on painful, I was jutted against him. With every push I was reminded of the last round of discipline, the redness and slight bruising covering my ass. A series of moans slipped past my lips, more strangled than I’d intended.
“Imagine what I’ll do to you later, the punishment you’ll endure.”
“I... Yes. Yes, sir.”
“Mmm... I’ll shackle you outside, wedged between two trees, waiting for my arrival. And I will take my time whipping every inch of your delicious body.”
The promise was brutal. Amazing. I had difficulty swallowing and every portion of my body was shaking. A shadow caught my attention, drawing my eyes to the right. The girl had moved closer, riveted by our display, her boyfriend watching from a short distance, as if prepared to control his pet. Jagger nipped my earlobe, his gaze drawn to my line of sight. The girl’s breathing was rapid, scattered, obvious desire crisscrossing her face.
Removing my hand, he held my slickened fingers in the light, dragging his tongue down the length of my finger. A simple nod of his head was all that was necessary. He was giving his approval. The girl crowded in ever so slowly, taking my wrist from his hand, purring as she began to lick. The soft mewing sounds were additive, her catlike actions sensual as she undulated her body, her eyes closed, her studded tongue rolling across my skin.
“See, my sweet? I will allow certain pleasures.” Jagger’s heated breath skipped along the back of my neck. He lifted my dress, yanking the ‘G’ string out of the way and kicking my legs apart. I knew he was unfastening his trousers, that he would fuck me and dear God, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.
I was unable to take my eyes off the girl, the way she used her entire tongue to lick and savor my cream. Blinking several times, I tried to focus on the provocative scene as Jagger thrust his shaft all the way inside, taking only a second before repeating the move.
The girl began to suck on my finger, taking it all the way inside her hot, wet mouth. Her sucking sounds were mixed with the pounding noise created from my hard fucking. The entire display making me drunk on the scents alone.
Jagger slid one hand into my dress, squeezing my breast until I winced. With the other, he issued a series of hard slaps, keeping the same rhythm as his powerful plunges, one after the other. The girl moved to another finger, her entire body shimmying, the guttural sounds more pronounced. Other people came and went from the bathroom. I could sense their presence, but everything was a beautiful haze, a foggy blur of sexual sin.
“My beautiful, unruly Lola,” he huffed then bit down on my neck as he pinched and twisted my nipple.
Pain coursed through every cell, mixing with the extreme bliss and I was thrown into nirvana, panting and moaning, losing control of my own body. The girl continued to suck, her body bucking as if she knew I was close to climaxing.
The spanking continued, his hand smacking then clamping, his cock filling me completely.
There was no way to stop the orgasm. I slapped my other hand on the glass, my fingernails dragging down the mirror as I clamped my pussy muscles. “Oh... Oh!”
Jagger’s husky growl was all I needed, the climax erupting, forcing me to throw back my head, issuing a strangled scream.
“Yes!” He wrapped his arms around mine, folding us toward the mirror. “Never forget you belong to me.”
“Yes, sir.” I was vaguely aware the couple had left, leaving us in the darkened space, now scented with our combined sex.
He rubbed his hand across the mirror, the light steam that had replaced our reflection. “That is the expression I want to give you every day.”
Minutes later he took my hand, leading me back to our table. No one had attempted to clear our glasses or take our seats. It was as if they’d known we’d return to reclaim our space.
“Now, finish your wine, Lola. And never disobey in that egregious of a fashion again. Understood?”
“Yes. Understood, sir.” What had been said on the phone call? I could tell he was even more troubled.
We remained in silence for another ten minutes, people watching. He never reached out to touch my hand or arm, or invade my space in any manner, but his gaze never left me. When I’d
finished the last drop, he rose to his feet, holding out his hand. “Come with me.”
I was led outside and down the street, turning onto yet another and walking two full blocks. He never stopped scanning the area, his grip on my hand forceful.
Finally, he stopped just outside a shop, turning to face me. His eyes were twinkling, as if he’d been holding some kind of secret.
While the lettering on the store window was in French, I didn’t need a translator. He was going to have me pierced, my nipples, maybe my clit. I was thrown, my mouth suddenly dry. Even my legs were quivering and for some crazy reason, all I could think about was his cum slickening my panties. This isn’t anything that I would have anticipated. I’d admitted my desire, yes, but to actually go through with the... the... I blinked several times, more shaken by the fact tears were threatening to give me away. The little girl inside might crave the pain of a spanking, but this was something else entirely. “Jagger. I...” My inner voice was barking at me, screaming to run away. There was no reason for this kind of reaction, yet I was unable to stop the building nausea.
He placed his index finger to my lips. “Quiet. Trust. Remember?”
“Yes, sir.”
Smoothing my hair, he rubbed his thumb across my cheek as he inhaled. The move was comforting, perhaps giving the inner child just enough courage. “From here on out, there will be no doubt who you belong to. The greatest gift is for a woman to submit. When I told you that you were one of the strongest women I’d ever met, I was being truthful. No matter what happens, what we’ve shared is life-changing.”
I could only nod. The words were disturbing, raw in ways that I’d never be able to explain to anyone, including my best friend. This wasn’t normal to any degree. Shutting down the ridiculous thoughts, I vowed to go through with this. I had stated I wanted something of this nature. This was my test, facing my limitations.
The shop was clean, the scent of vanilla and jasmine nothing like I would have expected. My fantasies were filled with darkened spaces and shadowed people, the lure of the unknown a powerful draw. Being inside was simple, artists painting beautiful works of art, only using human skin as their canvas. I walked closer, my eyes capturing the intensity of the complicated work. The walls were decorated with vivid pictures of various colorful tattoos, dragons and snakes, skulls and butterflies. Every piece drew me in, telling a story. And what would my story be?
