Cuff Me, Sheriff
Page 6
“Best make it count, then,” he replied easily.
Okay. He wanted something short term with no strings. I could go with that. I didn’t know why my heart was protesting but I overruled it. Rules and consequences for a day or two sounded good.
“Won’t this compromise our working relationship?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Don’t see why. You’ll have a safeword, and I’m not investigating you.”
“Good point.”
“Is sex off the table?” he asked. I guessed if I said yes at that moment, he’d never ask again and never try to coerce me into going along with it. He seemed like the perfect gentleman. And I already knew he was a harsh disciplinarian.
But I didn’t want to say yes to abstinence. At the same time, I didn’t want to sound too eager. It was really the structure and rules I craved much more than a one-night stand.
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” I replied, trying to seem like it wasn’t of any great importance to me one way or the other.
“Is your butt trained?”
I giggled. “Of course.”
He made a low growling noise that vibrated through my core. “You’d never know it, given the stick you keep up your ass.”
I made a face that was half-gasp of disbelief, half-laugh. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me. I decided the best thing to do was to push back a little.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a polite Southern gentleman?” I teased.
“Where d’you think we are, missy? This here is Arizona. We ain’t in the South, here.”
“The Mexican border is, like, right down the road,” I countered.
“Ah, see, we’re in the south, but not the South.”
I knew that, but it was funnier to tease him about it.
“So, anyway, you avoid Christmas day, but what would you usually do on a day off?” Bob asked.
“Go to the club and find somebody to play with,” I replied without thinking.
“Hard or soft?” His questions seemed to be funneling me in a certain direction. I recognized the technique but didn’t feel like getting out of his snare just yet.
“Hard. And rough.” My core spasmed at the thought of a really intense scene.
“What’s your favorite implement to be spanked with?”
I had an opinion, but for some reason I decided to be flirty. “Whatever you say it is, sir.”
He choked on his soup. Not the intended reaction. Oops. I got up and thumped him on the back until he stopped coughing.
“Think I just swallowed my tongue. Geez. You sure go from zero to a hundred, don’t you?”
I laughed but didn’t reply.
“All right, you wanna play it like that, I’m gonna tie you to the bed and show you what happens to sassy submissives in this house.” He picked up his bowl, finishing his soup in three gulps, and got to his feet. Towering over me in his sheriff’s uniform, he looked every inch the dominant silver fox that he was. I caught my breath.
“Follow. And remember your safeword,” he growled.
“Aren’t you supposed to wait a half-hour after eating before doing BDSM?” I teased. He looked over his shoulder and fixed me with a dark gaze, one brow raised.
“That’s swimming,” he replied. “And just for that, Miss Sassy, I’m gonna add extras.”
A shudder ran through my body, even though I had no idea what he planned to do or how many there would be, never mind what he was adding extras to.
Upstairs, he led the way to his room. Simple décor but functional. Tidy. No laundry on the floor anywhere. He obviously respected himself and his surroundings deeply.
I didn’t take the same care of my apartment. I always made the excuse that I didn’t have time, but deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. Keeping my home clean wasn’t a priority for me, but I always wished I was better at it.
“Get your clothes off, sub, I want to inspect you.” His tone was rough and it reminded me we were dom and sub, tonight, rather than two law enforcers collaborating on a case.
I shrugged my jacket off and dropped it on the floor. My fingers found my top button, and I began unfastening my dress shirt. It joined the jacket on the floor and I stood before him in bra and pants, already feeling exposed and on edge as I slipped into the beginnings of a submissive mindset.
“Hold it. Let me look at you like that.” He stepped closer, eyes drinking in my meager cleavage. My chest rose and fell as I took deep, calming breaths. I was doing this. With him. I wanted this so bad, but I was scared of fucking it up.
He reached out his right hand and stroked my skin with the back of his fingers, making little circular motions as he caressed every part of my breasts that wasn’t in my bra. Gentle tingles awakened the surface of my skin.
“I approve.” He spoke in a low voice. I smiled, keeping my eyes on the floor.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And it’s ‘sir’ from now on.”
“Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir.”
I waited for him, watching, wondering what he would do next. I wanted him to paw my body, to use me for his pleasure, to push my limits as hard as he dared. If he backed out, he wasn’t half the man I thought he was.
“Continue stripping,” he commanded. Oh, God, he did commandments so damn good. I’d walk off the nearest cliff if he ordered it in that tone.
“Yes, sir.” I unbuttoned my pants, feeling like there was a rhythm to undressing. I couldn’t skip to my bra until I’d taken my pants off. They tumbled down my legs and crumpled on the floor around my feet. Bra, panties and socks were left. I went for the bra. That was the natural order of things. Fumbled with the clip. Old bra. One of the hooks was slightly bent. Usually, I fastened it at the front then turned it around, but right now that seemed like the least sexy thing I could possibly do. Thirteen-year-olds fastened their training bras that way. People who couldn’t reach behind themselves. No red-blooded, sexy woman in the history of stripping for daddy ever unhooked a bra from the front unless it fastened between the cups.
I looked up at him. It really wasn’t opening and I was stuck. Was it worse to slow down the scene until I could get it undone from behind, or worse to turn the clip around and do it like I’d never opened a bra before? Which was least unsexy? Was that what this had come to already? Trust me to klutz the shit out of this situation. Anyone else would probably have had stockings on beneath their work pants. I was in white underwear that I couldn’t seem to remove. Argh.
“Here.” He reached a hand out. Barely brushed me with it. My bra fell away. My mouth fell open. Awe-struck.
“Thanks, sir,” I mumbled, trying to save face. I hooked my fingers into my panties and was about to wiggle out of them when he covered my hands with his. I heard a tearing sound, felt him tugging, then he held the remains of my panties in one huge mitt. He put it to his face and inhaled.
“There’s something pure and honest about the scent of a woman’s panties,” he remarked. “I’m keeping ‘em,” he added, as if I’d never owned them in the first place.
“Yes, sir,” I responded, unsure what else to say.
“Lie face down on the bed, missy, I’m gonna teach you what we do with lawbreakers in Snake Eye.”
I tried to cross the room, feeling his eyes on my naked body. I was so bare and exposed, and somehow I wanted him to approve of me. No idea why. Didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t like I was going to see him again after my long flight back to the East Coast in a couple of days. This was supposed to be two kinky people playing around to forget about the holidays, nothing serious.
I got onto the bed and lay on my front, shamefully aware that my pussy was quite wet and it was pressing into the Sheriff’s comforter.
“Ever been handcuffed?” he asked.
Chapter 9
Mariella
“No, sir.” I actually hadn’t. In all the training and practice we had to do, I’d never taken the role of the perp, so I’d never had to rely on anyone else
to let me out of their cuffs.
“These are proper standard issue handcuffs. You can’t get out of them. There’s no escape switch. You wanna escape, you gotta be real nice to the Sheriff.”
He held them out for me to see. Definitely not cheap tat from the dollar store. He took my left wrist in his hands, almost with a reverence that was at odds with his rough demeanor, and he clicked the cuff closed around it, trapping my hand.
I tried to stay calm as a frisson of fear worked its way down my spine. He could do anything to me once I was cuffed, and I had to trust that he’d honor my safeword. And what if he lost the keys? I knew how hard these sort of cuffs were to escape from, that was why I’d never let anyone use them on me before. At least if I got into trouble with rope play, a big pair of shears would free me quickly.
I trusted him more than anyone I’d ever played with, I realized. And I hadn’t even known him for long. There was something inherently in-control about him. He radiated a sense that I was in safe hands. That everyone was in safe hands because he was protecting the whole town, even when he wasn’t working.
I could do this. With him. I could only do this with him. I took some deep breaths as he maneuvered the cuffs around one of the wooden spindles of the bed and closed the cuff around my right wrist.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Scary. But I think I’m gonna be okay, sir,” I replied. Honesty was the most important thing during these kind of check-ins, even if I hated admitting my fear.
“Good. Let me know if it’s too much for you and we’ll change pace, maybe use some rope or somethin’.”
“Yes, sir.”
He leaned closer and muttered into my ear, “Spread those legs.”
Heat surged through me. I pulled my legs apart until my toes touched the edges of the mattress. It seemed like a reasonable place to stop, although I could flex more if he wanted me to.
“Good girl.”
His two brief words of praise filled my submissive soul with joy. I’d been good. I’d pleased him. Awesome.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to warm you up with a flogger. You got your safeword ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Don’t you forget it.” He snapped a flogger down on my back and sharp pain burst like a firework across my skin. It was only a light flogger, not penetrating deeply or leaving any lasting damage. But that didn’t mean it was painless, of course. The burn was immediate and intense, but shortlived. It had faded by the time he brought it down again, between my shoulders. I tried to control my breathing as the pain lit up my nerve endings.
Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack...
He brought the flogger down, dotting my back with bursts of pain, in a rapid and rhythmic pattern, feeling like raindrops of fire were pelting me. Soon, there were more parts of me in pain than weren’t in pain, and the residual burn turned into a delicious glow, like eating a really tasty chili burrito.
I gave myself to this moment, accepting his control over me, and sank into the deliciously empty mind of submission. I trusted him, even though I hardly knew him.
He thoroughly worked over my back, ass and thighs, simultaneously burning and feeling good, while I writhed and moaned under his skillful hand. The flogger seemed to always land exactly where he wanted it to, never wrapping around or catching anywhere unsafe.
When he stopped, I was breathing heavily and ready for more.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Sooooo gooooood.” I spoke in a moan.
“Next I’m going to take my belt to you.” There was a clink of metal as he unfastened it, then the sound of it sliding out of the loops in his pants. I wanted to look and see what he was doing, but I wasn’t in a position to bend like that. Was he folding the belt over in his hand, or would he just use the tail of it? The anticipation made my clit throb as I waited to find out.
Crack.
The belt landed straight across my buttocks, making me gasp. It landed with such force that I knew he’d used it just as hard as when he’d punished me, before, but this time, the sudden pain transformed into pure heat, tearing through my core.
“That’s left a beautiful dark red line across your pink bottom,” Bob said, and I felt the approval in his voice.
“Thank you, sir,” I breathed, feeling liquid escape from my pussy.
“How many do you think you can take before you beg to come?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know, sir.” I liked to play hard. It was reasonable to think I could take quite a few.
He brought it down again with a loud snap and the leather bit into the full width of my bottom cheeks, making me groan with the initial pain.
The belt came down so many times I was struggling to stay quiet. The strokes were merging together on my skin, the burn building to an intensity that I knew well. He began on the backs of my thighs, and I yelled with pain. The belt was so much harder, there. The pain transformed into a fierce tingle that made me shake with need as my whole spirit seemed to focus on the sensations.
“Please, sir,” I mumbled, only wanting one thing.
“What?”
His voice implied he already knew what I wanted to ask, but he was going to make me say it, anyway.
“Please fuck me, sir.” My cheeks flushed with shame.
“Already? Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t even started with you, yet.”
I heard the sounds of fabric moving rapidly, and guessed he was stripping. Boy, what I would have given to see that show. A few seconds later I squeaked as cold liquid drizzled against my ass.
He was going to go... there. No one had done that since... a long time, anyway. I waited to find out what he intended to do and how hard he planned to do it.
The warmth of his big finger pressed against my hole and my ring ached a little as it yielded, slowly. Inch by inch, he worked his finger deep into my rear until it was buried.
“How’s that feel, sweetheart?” His voice had gone gravelly, and I caught my breath, realizing he wanted this as much as I did.
“Full, sir,” I replied.
“I think your ass will adjust, and when it does, I’m gonna put two fingers in there. And when it’s good and happy with two fingers, I’m gonna fill you with a plug.”
His finger slid out almost completely, then he pushed it all the way in again. He fucked me with it, pumping as I rolled my hips side-to-side on the bed beneath him. The inside of my ass was lit up with tiny sparks, awakened every time he moved. My ass cheeks tried to clench in response to what he was doing to me. Pressure built. I caught my breath. Needed more. Harder. Faster. I bucked against his finger, trying to get more friction—
Whack!
He slapped my ass hard with his other hand and I yelped, involuntarily clenching around his finger, which momentarily felt very hard inside me.
“I decide how hard and fast. Not you.”
“Sorry, sir.” Outwardly I was contrite, but inwardly I was cheering because he was showing his dominance by putting me in my place. I needed that.
He pressed a second finger against my tight hole, and I wondered how it was ever going to fit, but my ass clearly remembered its training, because it gradually stretched to let him in. Like with the first finger, he worked the second one into me slowly, so by the time he was buried all the way, the initial soreness had almost passed and my rear passage had almost adjusted to him.
He fucked me with his fingers, igniting more vivid tingles than before, and I was quickly moaning and clenching my fingers and toes, while a giant ball of energy inside me built up. It felt better with two fingers, and I enjoyed the fullness. It didn’t seem likely that his cock would fit, given that I already felt a little stretched.
That didn’t deter him. He slid his fingers back out.
“I’m just gonna wash my hands.” He stepped out for a minute, leaving me with time to think about whether I could take his cock or not. Perhaps that was his real reason for leaving. I
was definitely full of butterflies when his footsteps got closer again.
He stroked my parted legs with his fingertips and I shivered with delight at the gentle glow that spread across my skin.
“You ready for my cock?” he asked.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Don’t be scared. You’re good and stretched. And if it’s too much, you remember your safeword?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
He wasted no time. Kneeling behind me, he drizzled extra lube over the entrance to my ass then positioned his cock. I knew he was about to fuck me in the ass but I still hadn’t seen his cock and I was worried it might be huge, given how tall he was.
Sure enough, when he began pressing against my sphincter, the head splayed me wide open, stretching my ring until it burned. I buried my face in the comforter and gasped for breath, trying to control the pain. He was far too big. He’d never fit in there!
“Slow your breathing down, and clear your mind,” Bob coaxed in a gentle voice. I tried to do as he said. As soon as I focused only on my breathing, the pain seemed to ease off a little.
“That’s it. When you relax, it makes it easier for both of us,” he told me. His cock inched in a little more, then the flared head was in and the shaft moved in far more easily.
Soon, he was buried to the hilt in my ass. I hadn’t felt this stretched in a long time, and never from someone’s cock. The feelings of warmth and fullness were intoxicating, and he’d gone so deep, too.
He put his hands either side of my hips and began fucking me, making gentle movements at first, sliding in and out slowly, so slowly, giving me the chance to get used to what he was doing. The tingles in my ass sheath combined with the extreme tightness as I surrounded his cock. I moaned again, needing more.
He increased his pace gradually, until he was fucking me hard and fast, his body slapping against my ass each time he bottomed out. The tingles turned into a warm glow emanating from every nerve ending in my ass and I tightened around him while my body prepared for an orgasm. His hands controlled my body’s movements as he pulled my hips back against him each time he thrust into me. My breasts grazed the comforter, adding to the pleasure building in my core.