Safeword Quinacridone (13 page)

He smiled. “It doesn’t matter who paid for anything, they’ll print whatever will bring the most eyeballs to their site.”

“You know what? I’m tired of giving them my attention. No more talk of paparazzi gossip asshole
s, at least until dinnertime...
or, whenever you take me home. Deal?”

* * * *

Cara wore one of Travis’ robes. It was huge on her and he’d roll
ed
the sleeves up until the cuffs were like giant donuts around her wrists, and it trailed behind her like a princess’s wedding gown, but she loved the weight of it around her shoulders. She snugged it around her before choosing a strawberry, and remembered the robe at the condo in Atlanta. “You don’t keep women’s robes here, for guests?”

He shook his head. “I play a lot in Atlanta, not so much in Chattanooga. The condo is mostly for entertaining, but this is my home. I don’t bring people back here.”

“But, you brought me?”

He swept her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re special, Cara. I’ve had to learn to guard my privacy, and only friends are invited here. I hope you’ll be much more than a friend. I wanted to show you my home.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she took another bite of cantaloupe. Travis reached for his spoon and asked, “So, can you tell me about your research? You said you’d joined a site?”

She told him about joining Fetlife and he let her talk for a while before he took charge of the conversation, asking questions about what she’d read, what other websites she’d visited, and what she’d been told online by the people she’d friended. He wanted to know what had turned her on, what turned her off, what was scary but she’d like to try anyway, and what was too frightening to even consider. They talked about whether she wanted to submit to him or thought she only needed the pain.

She still wasn’t comfort
able talking about these things
but finally understood he wouldn’t know what she was thinking unless she told him. She pushed her shyness aside to look him in the eyes and say, “From what I’ve read, I don’t believe it’s the submission I need as much as the objectification. I think I’m probably a masochist, but I don’t feel very submissive.”

“So for now we’ll focus on objectification and masochism. Last night you said you liked to be called bitch
. D
o you want me to call you names?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, but I’m not sure. It was okay for jerks and assholes to call me crass names but I’m not sure it’ll feel real if you do it. I can’t imagine you saying it and meaning it.”

A cold smile made a brief appearance before he whisked it away with a warmer one. “I can assure you I’ve called a lot of women bitch and whore and cunt, and meant every word. But you’re correct, with you...” He looked away, thinking, and turned back, meeting her gaze. “I’ll play it by ear and if something feels right I’ll use it. If I call you a name you don’t like then yellow for me, okay? I don’t want to say anything to spoil the mood for you, but understand I won’t say anything solely for your benefit. If I call you a name it’ll be because it feels right, but it needs to be good for both of us.”

“You aren’t used to this. It’s just been about you, hasn’t it? Not having to worry much about how the other person felt?”

He shook his head. “No, not as much as you’d think. In some ways it was, but even though they were paid to accept whatever I did within their boundaries, I still took the time to learn what they could and couldn’t handle, what worked for them and what didn’t.”

“Will you still need that, with them? I mean, if I’m a total wimp will you need to hurt them since you won’t be able to hurt me?”

“I hadn’t thought playing with others would be an option if we became exclusive.”

She’d considered this and knew what her answer had to be. “If it’s something you need, and if I can’t provide it, then I’d be okay with it. I wouldn’t want you fucking them, but if you needed to hurt them or, whatever, and then vent your sexual energy on me... I’d be good with it. I mean, if I can’t give you what you need.”

He tilted his head as if he weren’t sure what to say, finally settling on, “Thank you for the offer but let’s play it by ear.”

They spent a long time in the shower. He washed her first, going so far as to stick a soapy finger up her rear, and then thoroughly rinsed everything with a strong shower spray. He talked her through cleaning him
and let
her spend a little time playing with the soap on his cock
,
and indulg
ed
her with his frustration as she enjoyed bringing him to the edge and backing off. She knew this wasn’t something he’d let anyone else do and loved that he gave her free rein.

They even washed each other’s hair, though Travis had to sit on the built-in bench so she could reach his head. When at last they exited the shower she discovered he’d had someone bring a hairbrush, toothbrush, pair of jeans, fashionable t-shirt, bra, and another package of panties.

“What will the paparazzi make of you paying someone to buy this stuff?”

He smiled. “They’ll never know. Debbie picked them up and dropped them off. You’ll meet her later, I hope. She runs the house — keeps it clean, does the cooking, takes care of my laundry, makes sure I don’t run out of anything, arranges to have the grounds mowed and the flowerbeds weeded, that sort of thing.”

“Why won’t I meet her today?”

“She’s off on the weekends. I called and asked if she could pick some stuff up and drop it off, and it turned out she was free this morning. I don’t ask a lot of her outside of her normal duties, but I’m flexible when she needs time off so she’s flexible when I need something extra.” He shrugged. “She’s been with me so long she’s almost like family.”

“How old were you when you hired her?”

“Seventeen. She has a son who’s only
a few
years younger than me
,
and somehow she managed to fill the place of a maternal advisor while leaving me in charge of my life. She’s a good friend, and wise about the ways of the world well beyond her years.”

“Does she know about your, umm, kinks?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t think she knows the specifics, but I guess everyone
probably figures
my sexual tastes aren’t normal. She’s never brought it up, and I doubt she ever will.”

Cara didn’t say it out loud, but it dawned on her that if everyone knew he was kinky they’d assume she had to be, if she was his girlfriend.

The care package included another bottle of the expensive shampoo and conditioner he’d bought her before, and she stepped back into the shower to condition her hair properly before drying it.

When she finally came out of the
bathroom,
he was nude and sitting in a straight-backed chair he’d brought in from the dining room. He patted has thigh and said, “We’ll do this a bit different today. Drop the robe and bend over my lap — hands and toes on the floor, ass in the air.”

She did as he said, feeling terribly vulnerable and off balance. The heat that’d been gradually building between her legs had reached bonfire proportions though, and she wanted this. Badly.

One of his hands caressed her upper back and then settled with some weight, gently holding her in place. The other rested on the back of her thigh, open palmed.

“I gave you a nice warm-up last time but I want to give you four hard hand spanks to start this time. They’re going to hurt, but won’t harm you. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Count out loud. You’ll say the number when you’re ready for it. Say one and we’ll begin.”

“One”

SLAP!

“Oh FUCK that hurt! Shit!” She tried to stand
,
but the hand on her back kept her firmly in place.

“It was supposed to hurt.” His voice was calm. Deliberate. “You get three more. Say two when you’re ready, or say your safeword if it’s too much.”

It took all she had in her to say, “Two.” The second spank landed with the same intensity and she yelled a few more expletives. The third strike brought heat as well as pain, and she felt warmth blooming across flesh and through muscle as the pain faded. The fourth hurt for a briefer moment, and the heat that followed set her insides on fire.

Travis hands immediately started the warm-up, striking her over and over with barely more than a pat, building the intensity gradually, and before she knew it she was so horny she was in danger of self-combustion. From the way his cock hardened under her stomach, she figured he must be in the same situation.

She didn’t know how long he spanked her. Five minutes? Ten? Cara’s toes and calves began to cramp but every time she relaxed against him he stopped spanking until she returned to position.

Her ass throbbed and a fire kindled inside as liquid heat spread across her skin. She craved more, yearned for something harsher than his hand. She wanted it to stop; she needed it to go on.

“Please, fuck me already!”

Had she said that? She heard him chuckle as his hand slid down her ass. “Spread your legs, let’s see how wet this pussy is.”

She slid her feet farther apart
and lifted
to her toes. His hand felt proprietary — he wasn’t trying to make it feel good, merely checking her as one would check a car for oil. She was an object, or maybe a piece of mechanical equipment, and he was verifying the system was ready for use.

“Yes, I suppose you’re ready. Stand up.”

He walked her to his bed and had her sit on the edge before stepping away to remove a perfectly folded sheet from a beautifully carved armoire.

He tossed the sheet over one of the metal vines over their head and it draped like a curtain, puddling in her lap and blocking her view of him. She pushed it behind her back and watched him step to the headboard to retrieve a pillow. He placed it behind her and stepped in front of her again.

He smiled, but it was a cold smile and it simultaneously turned her on and scared her. He stroked himself once, twice. His cock was rock hard. “Lay back.”

It wasn’t a request, and her body obeyed before she realized what she was doing
, giving her no time to
argue or question.

The pillow caught her off guard as it forced her back to arch, and the draped fabric slid to her front, blocking her view of him once more. He lifted the sheet a bit, though not enough so they could see each other, and said, “Knees to your shoulders and keep them there.”

Again, so obviously
not
a request. She pulled her legs up and he let the makeshift curtain fall, spreading it so the fabric rumpled over the back of her thighs. She only wondered what he was up to for a few seconds; quickly realizing all he could see was her pussy and ass, and a smidgeon of the tops of her legs. He could see her sex, but not her. She felt her hips move at the thought — a sex object. A thing to be fucked.

She heard the condom package tearing and his hands pushed at the backs of her thighs, angling her pussy down. He gripped her hips, drove himself into her, rearranged the pillow to get a better angle, and thrust deeper.

She’d read stories describing the sensations experienced when blindfolded, but this was so much more dehumanizing. Cara was alone on her side of the curtain while he pounded into her, his grunts and growls passing through the fabric to her ears.

Her ass was still hot from the spanking, and the fire of his hands pressed the backs of her legs, holding her in place as he repeatedly plunged into her. Heat, touch, desire, need, loss of power, the shattering of her humanity — everything merged into a singular awareness
and thrust
her into a primal response that tore through her consciousness like a bolt of lightning. Her climax shot her blood straight to boiling and she clutched wildly at the blanket beneath her as she rode the waves of pleasure.

Her orgasm didn’t stop, and the idea of being an object — a piece of equipment utilized for his pleasure — kept her soaring as he held her thighs and continued to destroy her.

Without losing rhythm, he pulled out of her pussy and plunged into her ass like a beast in rut. The storm inside her surged, the blood roared in her ears, and she screamed in pain and surprise as her body continued to convulse around his cock, and still he pounded her relentlessly.

With a loud bellow he stopped, shoved all the way in,
and held
as throaty sounds between human and animal filled the room and his cock jerked in her ass.

Her climax hadn’t peaked, but before she could be disappointed his fingers were at her pussy, his cock still in her ass. Her clit exploded in pain and she roared as her orgasm came slamming back with a vengeance, her hips hopelessly trying to buck as his hands and cock held her in place by her pussy and ass.

He stretched her impossibly wide with the fingers of one hand while the other worked her clit, and she continued to jerk and spasm uncontrollably. How obscene it must look — a distended pussy without a human attached, trying to move, writhing and spasming around his hand. She screamed as the orgasm reached a zenith and flowed out, draining her. And she melted.

He swiped the sheet away and was on her, kissing her gent
ly, stroking her arms, her face
. Holding her. No speaking, just reconnecting.