Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (125 page)

I do the cuddles and surreptitiously watch Roman finger my wife-to-be. I’m not good at that either, but his fingers seem to be magic, since she’s writhing all over the place. If he wasn’t her childhood friend I’d slit his throat. Plus, I’ve invested too much time and affection into the beautiful bastard.

I suck on Cort’s throat- that I’m excellent at. If it involves marking your territory, then I’m an expert. In a few minutes Cort will look like he was ravished by that sparkling douchebag that our girls have drooled over for the past few years- what’s his face- Aardvark?

Yeah, he totally likes that. Cort turns into a woman when you make love. It’s the strangest thing to watch him transform form a snarky asswipe to a puddle of goo that professes undying love- never fails. What do you expect from a man who writes bodice-rippers under a secret pen name?

“Ah!’ I shout when his nails dig into my ass and his hips rise to roll in a circular motion.
“Aaaahhhh…”  I release a long moan. Who am I kidding- frotting with Cort is just under making love to Regina as heaven on earth. If I could combine those activities, I’d die a happy man.

Roman is smoothly and slowly rocking into my woman, and she’s loving it-
motherfucker!
I push the green-eyed bastard into the depths of my soul where he likes to hide out. I reach over and thrust a couple of fingers into Regina around Roman’s cock. She yelps in surprise and gives me the response I seek. Girl’s got a hair-trigger if you know where to press. One flick of a fingertip and she rains moisture like a fountain.

“Thanks,” I chuckle and retreat with my saturated hand. I rub my wet fingers around Cort’s too tight asshole. I’m gonna stretch him out properly this time. I don’t bother with preliminaries, no one did with me.

That huge beast of a man that’s taking Greta was my first experience. Dev’s cock is scary huge. That beast makes Cort or Dalton’s dicks look like Vienna sausages. It didn’t help that I didn’t want it as I screamed from my restraints on the rack, and Olivia forced him to go in dry. I shudder and push the past from my mind.

Cort- Cort’s sweet rosebud of a tight ass is waiting for my cock. Much better- crisis of a nightmare averted.

I nuzzle the side of his throat and he purrs for me. His body is lax and compliant as our hips grind in an erotic dance. I kiss my way up his jaw and find his eager, pouty lips. Midway into a feverish kiss I slip my cock to his entrance and press in. I slide in nice and slow so that he can stretch around me. He bleats like a wounded animal, but I’m not hurting him. He loves it, or so his cock is telling me as it beats a drum solo against my abs.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I know,” I chuckle.

…and the flow of adoration commences, and I know that he’s way into me fucking his ass. He’ll beg for my fat cock next time.

“Deeper,” he moans, and I give him what he requests.

“Oh Goddamn,” I groan. “I love your ass,” I hiss. And his behavior rubs off on me- the pair of us starts chanting weird shit, and no matter how much I tell my mouth to shut the fuck up, it flows from my lips.

I know everyone is watching us as we fuck on the stage. I can feel Regina’s eyes bore into the side of my face, but I can’t look away from Cort’s stormy gaze. I’d know the feel of her eyes anywhere. I just hope her green-eyed monster doesn’t erupt. She’s as territorial as I am, and I really don’t want to give Cortez up. I would, but I’d rather not. I want to keep him, especially now that I know how fantastic his ass eagerly hugs my throbbing cock.

“Master,” Cort prays over and over
with every thrust of my hips.

“This ass is officially mine. I’m taking over its ownership,” I shout to my son. “You can borrow it, but it’s mine.”

I bury my face against the side of his neck, and he clings to me like a woman, arms around my shoulders as I press his knees tight to his chest. I push him into a pretzel to get a deeper angle- my beautiful boy loves it deep. His whimpers turn to animalistic grunts that echo around the silent dungeon.

“Oh God,” I groan as his inner-muscles start to clench tightly around my throbbing cock. Each pulse draws me closer to the brink. “I’m going to fill your ass up with so much of my seed, that you’ll be shitting out
my cum for days,” I growl. “My scent will be imbedded in your flesh.”

“I love it when you get possessive on me. It’s fucking hot,” Cort groans and his ass flexes a half a dozen time to my delight. 

One final pulse and I’m done. I scream bloody murder as lightning hits my spine and radiates down to my lower back. The current balls up and pulses in my nutsack. Cortez’s scream joins my own as his cock spurts cum up my chest, and it hits me in the throat. One last thrust and that agonizing pressure is released up my shaft and into Cort’s eager, clenching ass.

I arch my spine and growl like a rabid animal on crack. I sound like total fucktard, and I don’t give a shit. This is one of the best orgasms I’ve ever experienced. Raw and brutal as it rips out my throat in a torrent of
I’m-not-going-to-survive-this-intensity!

All my energy shot out the tip of my dick and emptied into Cortez. I exhaustedly fall on top of Cort, and he grunts. A few pushes of his palms and I slip to the side so he can breathe.

My eyes slowly crack open and connect with Regina’s. Touching Cort always makes me feel guilty- like I’m cheating on the love of my life. Every touch is fantastic until the guilt settles in the second the pleasure ebbs. I never think of Ezra or Katya, and what our affection means to them. My mind instantly projects a vision of emerald eyes and blonde hair, and I feel immense guilt.

I shouldn’t have worried.

She gazes at me with love.

And lust.

She’s fucking horny. I can tell.

My cock screams to life as all the blood flows from my body to nourish it.

Holy shit! It made her hot. Cort and I made her hot. I’ve died and gone to heaven. Someday I’ll figure out how to frot with Cort and include her. Maybe she can use her strap-on… On Cort… never me… my ass is never open for business.

“My love, did you like that,” I purr drowsily. “Kiss me if you did.”

I don’t have the energy to move, so she crawls over to me and kisses me passionately. I groan when her tongue pierces my mouth. “Go
od boy,” I mutter about Roman.

He didn’t spurt in my wife-to-be. He came in her mouth, and I’m happily lapping it up and devouring it, after I roll it around my tongue to gain the full experience of its exotic flavor. The word
cum-slut
flashes in the back of my mind a few times, and I tell it to shut the fuck up. I love the taste of pussy better- Regina’s pussy. I can’t force myself to go down on anyone else. Too many nightmares return to life with the experience.

I push the bad thoughts to the back of my mind, and linger a kiss on my woman’s lips.

Applause erupts from the silence, and shouts and barks of laughter fill the air.

“This is the reason I am the Master of the Universe,” I call out. “No one else has such a bounty.” A few laugh- mostly my family. Dexter sounds shocked. I gain enough strength to look out over the dungeon to the Masters of Restraint. They are replete and satisfied, and I know they played switch-a-roo several times over.

We are unity. We have bonded over tragedy and troubled times, but it’s the pleasure and friendship that weaves us tightly with unbreakable thread created out of love and respect.

“To Restraint,” I call out, and my Masters echo me…
Restraint
…
Restraint
…
Restraint
bounces off the walls of the dungeon long after our voices cease to rise.

Restraint
!

~KING~

Master of Restraint

Coming Early Spring 2013

If you liked the Mistress and Master of Restraint series, try the Playroom series next.

The series Debut, Good Girl, is available now: Erotic Romance with a slight BDSM twist- funny, lighthearted, and heartwarming.

Good Girl, Playroom #1

Willow, the wayward, is just another disillusioned teenager with no path in life.  She spends her days haunting Revamped and her nights taunting her family.

Willow’s high school diploma didn’t make her feel like and adult, nor did the eve of her 18
th
birthday.  Everything changes dramatically on the night of her birthday when her cousin inadvertently takes her to the Playroom.
Willow finds something she wants for the very first time in her life and she’ll stop at nothing to obtain it, even if it means becoming a responsible adult.

Ride along as Willow innocently learns everything the hard way with hilarious, heartwarming results. Will she stay the Willow-monster or become a Good Girl?

~
Good Girl~

Chapter One

“Mr. Kline,” I say to my boss as I whirl into
Revamped.
The store is warm and cozy, but the chill followed me in, along with a healthy dose of snow.

“Willow,” he chastises me.
“Me- Auggie. You- Willow,” he says caveman style by pointing at his chest and then mine. I can’t help but giggle at the display. His hearty, deep laugh makes him look like a gigantic teddy bear.

“It just feels strange calling you by your first name, Sir.” I sigh dramatically when the heavy weight of my puffy coat is lifted from my shoulders. Mr. Kline tugs it down my arms and stows it under the counter.

I’ve worked at
Revamped
for a couple of months, basically since I graduated high school. There aren’t many options for a girl who falls in the middle. I wasn’t an athlete or a geek. I wasn’t an artist or a musician. I didn’t shake my pom-poms along with my ass. I was a good girl who got good grades and kept her mouth shut. I didn’t date my high school sweetheart and promptly get married the second I was handed my diploma. I’m not shiny enough to attract notice, nor dark enough to be a problem.

I don’t have a tragic story that I sob about. My daddy didn’t leave us destitute and I’m not a victim of a bad neighborhood. I am middle-America, middle of the road, middle class girl with both parents fussing over their youngest daughter who has no aspirations or goals. I have every opportunity to succeed- supportive parents, stability, and a strong upbringing. I’m wayward and everyone looks at me like I’m an alien.

My philosophy is: how should I know what I want to do with the rest of my life the day I graduate? How am I supposed to know the second I turn eighteen what I am destined to become? One moment you are a disillusioned seventeen-year-old with the world at your fingertips and the next, congratulations, you’re eighteen and you’re on your own.

“Don’t call me Sir,” Mr. Kline gruffly says with a shudder. He really hates it when the sirs pop out my mo
uth. He always winces in pain.

“Sorry- sorry!
I can’t help it. It’s hard to break twelve years of conditioning. I see an adult and they are Sir or Ma’am. I still can’t believe that I’m an adult. It’s surreal.” I smile apologetically at my boss.

“I’ll get to work. Go on and create.” I push him into the back of the store where he works. Mr. Kline- Auggie is a graphic artist. He had goals and aspirations when he graduated. He was the geek and the artist when he was growing up. He opened
Revamped
when he was twenty with the money he earned selling comics at conventions. He isn’t wayward like me.

Revamped
is like me. It’s a quirky store filled with used everything- books, movies, old magazines, records, CDs and video games, comics, toys, and eclectic whatnots. We buy and sell anything that appeals to Mr. Kline. We offer new items that are exclusive to local artists. Mr. Kline’s designs are front-and-center. My brother’s works are here as well.

My brother Robbie isn’t wayward either. He is an artist. He makes my parents proud. He’s the middle child and I’m the baby. Every family dynamic is the same- the oldest is a type-a personality, the middle is artistic and emotional, the youngest is labeled lazy and uninspired as
they live in their parents’ basement and mooch. I don’t actually live in the basement, but it’s close enough.

My sister is seventeen years older than me. Robbie is ten years older than me. I was a menopause baby- a huge freaking surprise. After raising my siblings my parents didn’t have the energy to inspire me. I grew like my namesake- I flowed in the wind. My sister is strong and resilient like her namesake- Clover. Nothing kills that shit in the lawn. No weed killer is strong enough for the force of Clover and neither were my parents. Clover thinks she’s my mother and she’s a pain in my ass.

My parents weren’t born in the right generation. They were one decade too early to be hippies, but they succeeded by naming us cheesy names. I’m thankful I won the lottery of names from nature. Poor Robbie- Robin. Yeah, he got beat up a lot. And that is where Mr. Kline came into it. My boss is Robbie’s best friend and that is the only reason I got this job. I didn’t even earn this. It was handed to me like everything else. I’m good at it though because I don’t want to disappoint and I am thankful. It’s not like it’s all that difficult- a monkey could do it. I’m not a complete dipshit.