Sexy as Hell Box Set (97 page)

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Authors: Harlem Dae

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He responded to my instruction in an instant. Pulling, sliding, ramming at his trousers, underwear, shoes and socks until he stood gloriously naked before me, his cock standing to attention and the dim lights of the room casting angled shadows over his body.

Damn, he made me hungry. My pussy clenched in appreciation of his beautiful physique and his acres of smooth, golden skin encasing rippling muscles. I wanted to mark him, brand him, make him mine and no one else’s, ever. He was just for my pleasure, my enjoyment. He was my future.

I strutted to my side of the bed and retrieved the ZW paddle I’d bought earlier. It was a good weight; the stocky handle had a rubbery grip and the initials were deeply carved and the ends a little curly.

Victor was watching me warily so I slapped the flat surface against my palm, enjoying the sharp sound and the way he winced.


On the bed,” I said, “On your hands and knees, arse facing me.”

He swallowed—I heard the gulping noise—and then did as I’d asked.

God, I loved him. I wanted to not just be with him, but all around him, inside him. Make him feel me in every cell. Stay in every cell, every dark corner of his soul and live there, exist there for all of time.

I moved behind him and
studied his buttocks. Despite yesterdays flogging and my dragging my fingernails over his skin, there really wasn’t much to see, a couple of scratch marks, a few pale bruises but nothing to stop us having fun right now.

I
cracked the paddle on his right bum cheek, hard.

“Ah, fuck.” He jerked forwards and curled his toes so tight the soles of his feet went white.
So there was still a decent amount of lingering tenderness—good, that would get the really dense, deep tissue pain going that released the most delicious endorphins.

I smoothed my hand over the abused patch of skin
, and when he shuddered and groaned knew that I’d penetrated, got right inside him with that first strike.

But I wanted more. And I could have it. So I would take it.

“Keep still,” I said. “Shut your eyes.”

He
groaned again, and without bothering to see if he had shut his eyes I dashed to my case, unzipped it and scrambled around in my sex toy collection. I selected a blindfold, a tube of lube, a cock ring and a butt plug. Oh, yes, my sub wouldn’t forget to take his tablet again—or perhaps he would with this as his punishment.

“I hope you have your eyes closed, Virgin,” I said, dumping my wares on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” I snapped the blindfold straight, the silky black material making a satisfyingly strong click. “I want you to lose yourself in sensation, just feel me and all the things I can teach you about desire.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I tied the blindfold tight around his head, and the ends stuck up from his crown.

Where to start? His body was mine, his pleasure something I longed to indulge in, but I also wanted this to be a good session, not over in an instant as it so nearly was in the elevator.

Sliding my hands over his back then around his waist, I tickled through his pubic hair. The cock
ring was my next plan and after one-handedly applying a little lube to its rubbery surface, I carefully positioned it over the head of his cock.

He whimpered at my touch.

“Shh,” I said. “This will help you keep your orgasm under control. You mustn’t come until I say.”

“Yes, Mistress, but fuck, just your hands on me, just your touch…it makes me want to…argh!”

I’d grabbed the paddle with my free hand and spanked his left buttock. “Learn some self-control,” I snapped.

“Ah, oh, yes, Mistress…”

He moaned and arched his spine as I eased the ring down his swollen shaft. It was a tight fit but that suited my needs. Once it was settled at the base, I treated his erection to several firm push-pulls.

“How is that feeling?” I asked.

“Tight, tight and…fuck it feels good. But not too good, kind of like a lock.”

“That’s the idea, it will stop you coming too quickly.”

I picked up the paddle again and slapped his arse cheeks several times. Not as viciously as the first one, but just enough to get a pretty blush coming on his skin. A blur of ZWs were appearing at various angles and meshing together.

He didn’t cry out but took the blows bravely, steadily, rocking into them then pulling away as though wanting but not.

“That’s it,” I said softly. “Take it, and with every blow get it into your head that you must not be neglectful of your medication.”

“Yes, Mistress.” His voice was breathy.

“Because if you don’t take your medication, what will happen?”

“I’ll get ill, Mistress, ah…”

I’d set a slap between his buttocks, dangerously near his arsehole and bollocks.

“Very ill. You’ll collapse, get rushed off to hospital, and then where will I be, eh?”

“That won’t happen, Mistress Zara.”

I reached beneath him, toyed with his cock; it was hot and swollen. “I’ll tell you where that would leave me, and that’s alone, and I’ve only just got used to not being alone.”

“I won’t leave you, never, I promise.”

Oh, such sweet words that made a delicious, honeyed warmth spread through me.

I cupped his balls, tugged, pulling them away from his body, and hit him again, harder. The sound was wonderful, a thwack that vibrated through my head and up my arm to my chest, filling me completely.

“Jesus, fucking hell…” he groaned. “Mistress…”

“I can feel your cum boiling up inside you,” I said, stooping to kiss his arse cheeks. They were like radiators, heat simmering from them. “It’s all in here, all that pent-up desire you’ve been wanting to unload for hours.” I massaged his balls, knowing how near to the edge that would send him, but not over it because of the ring and how I’d stretched his bollocks.

“Please, oh, fuck, please can I come? Let me…”

“No, not yet.” I straightened, reached for the butt plug and squirted lube on the end. “You will always remember this moment, Victor.”

“I remember every moment with you.”

I paused, knowing exactly what he meant, then, “This is special, this is us, together, you being completely open for me, under my control.”

“I think that’s happened several times.”

“Not completely, not one hundred percent. You’re getting better, but certainly to start with you resisted, pretended to submit, rose to the challenge, so to speak.” The memory was clear in my mind, the determined set of his jaw, absolute resolution to take what I gave him, whatever it was. But this, what we had in Venice, was different. He could be a brilliant Master but also a loyal submissive, and that was what I needed from him now. To know he was mine.

“Yes, Mistress, you’re right, Mistress.”

“I know I am. Now take this, my final invasion of you this weekend, which shows your willingness to belong to me.” I separated his hot arse cheeks and touched the pointy tip of the plug to his hole.

He groaned and hung his head low.

Good, he knew what was coming.

The purple silicone slipped in easily. I knew he could take it so let it ride to full depth. His anus stretched
around the widest circumference and then caught on the safety flare, held it firmly in place.

“Perfect, so obedient.” Again I kissed his buttocks, loving the feel of his blushed skin on my lips and cheeks.

“I’ll do…whatever you ask of me…” he panted.

“You’re going to take ten more strikes of the paddle,” I said. “And you must shout out the first word that comes to mind after each hit.”

A shiver wound down his spine and the gully between his buttocks. His arsehole quivered. He was clenching already, just at the thought of being spanked with a plug in.

“Yes, Mistress. Shout out a word.”

“Are you ready?” I positioned myself at the end of the bed, side on, retrieved the paddle and swung it through the air a few times, delighting in the whooshing noise and knowing the air would be shifting on his bare skin, making him wonder when the first hit would arrive.

This should be interesting.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Words. Bloody hell, the woman thought I could find ten profound words when I had my arse filled, my cock strung up and my tormented bum shining like a clown’s nose.

My head was swimming, endorphins ruling my black world. I buzzed all over; the need to climax was all-consuming but also held just out of reach by the ring. And when she’d pulled my bollocks like that, away from my body, I’d never experienced anything like it—it was as if she’d embraced my orgasm, right there in her hands, owned it, controlled it, had stolen it.

Of course, as soon as she’d let go, it had raged twice as powerfully, as though every nerve in my balls had been put on overdrive.

“Fuck!” I shouted as she walloped me. I squeezed around the butt plug
—it was instinctive when my arse was being whacked—and it felt fucking amazing to have my ever-greedy prostate get a good bashing by my internal contraction.

“Oh, you can do better than that, sub.
Fuck
is a boring beginning.”

She hit again.

I bit my bottom lip, prayed she’d give me a second to think. “Love,” I shouted. “Love, fucking love.”

“Better, but still, Victor, you’re an intelligent man, be creative.”

Another hit, seriously hard.

“Collar.” I gasped as an image of us in Geoffrey’s summerhouse besieged me. Zara in that collar, thick, the silver hoop catching the weak
moonlight the night had given us.

“Oh, I like it.” She rewarded me with a stroke over my arse cheeks. “Good boy.”

I relaxed into her caress, but as soon as I did she hit me again.

The third word popped out. “Dog.”

“Dog,” she repeated. “Interesting. Now are you thinking of Roly and our reconnaissance mission into Geoffrey’s garden or are you thinking of the shed and when we licked each other’s arses?”

“The summerhouse, Mistress,
and
the shed. It was all sexy, all hot, all got me the hell off.”

“Me too. Me too.”

She’d sounded wistful, and a stitch of pride filtered through me that I’d given her new dog memories—sexy dog memories that filled her with nostalgia and not nausea and fear.

The next assault slapped directly over the plug. I yelped in surprise then groaned in bliss. Fuck, that had hit the spot good and heavy.

“A word,” she said harshly into my ear. “A word, Virgin, the first one that comes to mind.”

“Vixen,” I panted. “Foxy.”

She laughed. “Foxy?”

“Yes, that’s you, cunning, clever…” I paused to pant through a sudden burst of sensation in the root of my dick, directly beneath the ring. Damn, it made me want to shoot my load.

“Shh,” she soothed as though understanding my dilemma. “It’s okay, just carry on talking. Tell me more, cunning, clever and…?”

“Nocturnal, sly, seductive…” The words were stockpiling so I let them spill. “Sexy, devious, altruistic, carnivorous, beautiful, so, fucking beautiful…” I gasped, fisted the sheets and rested my forehead on the bed. Holding my neck up had become too much of a chore.

For a moment I thought she wasn’t going to hit again, that I’d said so many words my delicious torment was over. But then the strike came to my left buttock, near to the top of my thigh.

Again I compressed the plug and my cock bobbed. “Jealousy.”

“The green-eyed monster. I thought we’d agreed to let that one drift away, into the canal out there.”

“Yes,” I gasped
again, wanting to grab my cock and masturbate but knowing that wasn’t allowed. “Yes, that’s why I said it. That word means nothing.”

She hit again. I could only just imagine the dyslexic appearance of the ZWs on my arse now.

“Trust.”

“Excellent.”

Another hit.

“Desire, fuck, desire, that’s what I’ve got now. Desire for you and everything you can give me.”

She honoured me with a kiss, but only after she’d grasped my hair and pulled my head up off the bed so she could reach my lips.

I drank in her flavour; she was excited, turned on. I could tell.

I barely had the chance to breathe and another hit caught me. “Cunt, your cunt.”

“What about my cunt?” I could hear the smile behind her words.

“I fucking love it, everything about it. Licking it, burying my dick in it, shoving my…”


Hand in it?”

“Yes, Jesus, yes, my
hand, yes, everything.”

She chuckled. It was a low, joy-filled noise that came from her chest. “Good, because I happen to like you doing all of those things to my cunt.”

Another strike.

Somewhere in the back of my brain I wondered if I’d nearly reached my ten.

“Pain.” I called, for that was the burning word written across my flesh. Pain spelt with a Z and a W.

“Tell me more. Pain is a simple word for a complex sensation.” Again she stroked my arse cheeks.

I raised my head, bowed my back, and revelled in her sweet attention. “Pleasure and pain when linked provides the sharp bite of desire that comes with a great mouthful of lust and makes every single part of my body hum, from my hair roots to my toes.”

“I like it.” Again she reached for my balls, stretched them from my body. “Nice description.”

Oh, fuck. I was dizzy with lust. This was reaching a crescendo, it had to be.

Another direct blow from the paddle. This time over the base of the butt plug again.

I was going to burst, I was sure of it. The direct line of electric bliss from my rectum to my cock was cataclysmic. I wanted to come. I was going to.

I wasn’t. Again she held that bollock-simmering climax in her hands. She’d pulled it down into her possession. Controlled it for me.

“Forever,” I panted, both loving and hating the stretch in my scrotum.

She laughed. The paddle flopped onto the bed next to me and she let go of my balls. “You’d done your ten, but I like forever.”

She tugged up the blindfold and the room swam in my vision.

I held my breath. Fought for control. The pressure in my sac was monumental.

“You’re so good,” she said softly, stroking my hair. “At being the perfect, inventive, intelligent sub.”

Something shifted within me. It was like a pendulum that had been swinging to the maximum velocity one way and was now racing towards the opposite end.

My arse was on fire, my bum chock full of arousal, and my cock, it was ready to burst.

And it was all my little
vixen’s fault.

She was lying next to me on the bed now. A flush stained her cheeks, her lips were moist—she must have just licked them—and her eyes…her eyes held a look I’d seen before.

It was a plea for me to take control. Own her. Hold the reins. Make her mine in a way that made it clear that’s how it would always be for us.

I lifted up so my knuckles were pressed into the bed. Sensations in my balls and rectum shifted, but I beat down the need to drift into a luxurious groan and let my eyes roll back in their sockets.

She needed me in the here and now, not in sub-space.

“Your turn,” I said, pressing my hand around the base of her throat, fingers spread, palm against her larynx. “To do as I say. You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to submit to your one and only Master.”

Her eyes widened and she panted out a breath. “Yes, yes, your paddle, the VP one. Make me yours.”

“Great minds think alike.”

She reached up, gripped my forearm and closed her eyes. She looked pitifully vulnerable, and I’d seen her plenty exposed, but this was different. She’d switched in an instant, the way I could, and she was okay with it. Had accepted that it was how we were together.

I kissed her—an urgent mating of mouths, my hand still about her neck, her pulse thudding against my palm. She let me lead, my mouth dictating the pace, the dance, the depth.

My paddle.

I remembered where it was. What I’d just promised.

“You should get naked, sub,” I said with a twisted smile that I hoped didn’t look quite as predatory as I felt. “So I can drag ten words from your sexy lips.”

I rose from the bed, my body alive with every wonderful, erotic sensation that had ever been created.

“Yes, Sir.” She began to shimmy out of her dress and underwear.

After collecting my paddle, I glanced in the full-length mirror and checked out the state of my arse scored scarlet by my woman. The base of the plug was only just visible, but damn, I knew it was there with every step, every movement, every breath.

My cock was hideously engorged, but I loved the sight. The head shiny and taut, the ring a new piece of what Zara had made me. And my balls, bulky with cum, hung low, and although they didn’t swing beneath me they were so sensitive it was as though they were.

I turned back to the room.

Zara had stripped and was now standing as I had—head bowed and hands gripped at the junction of her thighs. Her flesh looked so fragile, the ripe swell of her breasts so inviting, and her downcast eyes, long lashes spiked, made me want to protect her with everything that I was.

I patted the paddle against my palm and stepped up close.

She caught her breath when I pulled it over her breasts in a smooth wooden caress. Her nipples were tight and tempting, so I stooped and pulled the right one deep into my mouth and pressed the centre of the paddle over the left one.

The sweet flavour of her skin and the zesty shower gel from earlier flooded my
tastebuds. I remembered the foulness of my urine on her breast and laved more thoroughly in an effort to disperse that memory from my mind.

“Oh…” she moaned. “Victor.”

Was she thinking the same thing? How my mouth could pull her from depraved longings to blissful new beginnings?

“Hit me, just there.”

I lifted up, stared at her face and then where the paddle was resting.

“Oh your…?” I asked.

“My tit, yes. I want VP on there.”

“But it might hurt in a bad way?” I didn’t want to see her perfect tits stained with painful slap marks. Her arse was different, that looked hot with my brand. Her breasts, well, they were delicate.

“Yes, do it.”

I tipped my eyebrows. “Are you ordering your Master about?”

Immediately she shook her head. “No, no, please forgive me, but…”

“But you need it?” I seemed to recall her saying that in the shed her chest had been hit. By that bastard Conner if memory served me right.

I nodded, knowing this was a demon we were fighting, a demon that was cloaked and could slip through the night, tail us, infiltrate our most personal times. But when I could see him, like now, I’d befriend him, hold his hand, make him think he belonged, and then I’d shove him out of the way. Fill his shoes and make it impossible for him to come back.

I cupped her right breast until her flesh spilt over my hand and the top swell jutted upwards, the nipple shielded by my
fingers. Paddle raised, I saw my target and slapped it down with a practiced flick of my wrist.

She hissed out a breath and screwed up her face. “Jesus, that hurt.” A tremor attacked her body but before
her shivers had even hit her belly I had her nipple in my mouth, combining the pain of the whack with the heat of my adoration.

She grappled for my shoulders, and
, after tossing the paddle to the bed, I pulled her close, held her up to my body. My cock surged at the feel of her warmth.

“Victor,” she said, “let me see.”

I straightened and we both looked at the VP emerging on her chest—white, the skin around it rushing to flare red.

“It’s beautiful,” she said with awe. “Thank you.”

“That’s just the start.” I stroked my hands down her arms to her wrists and captured them behind her back. Keeping them locked in just one of mine.

“This way.” I
grabbed the paddle again and urged her to the mirror.

When we were there I pressed her up close, so her nipples were just skimming its smooth surface.

“Are you ready to come up with your ten words?”

“Yes, Master.” She finally lifted her attention from the VP on her chest and caught my gaze in the reflection.

“Good.” I pulled at my cock, collected drip of pre-cum on the tip of my finger and then swiped it over her bottom lip. “
Don’t
lick it off.”

“Yes, Master.” Her bottom lip quaked and something flashed in her eyes.

Was she impressed with that tiny but agonising torture I’d come up with? If her cum sat on my lips it would be impossible for me not to drink her in.

“And are you hungry for me?” I asked.

“Starving, Master.”

“And are you wet for me?” As I’d spoken I’d ran my hands down her back and through the cleft of her arse. “Is your pussy still soaking, like it was in the elevator?”

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