The Dollhouse Society: Isabelle (New Adult BDSM Erotica) (7 page)

“You mustn’t come until I say,”
Damian said, lunging and withdrawing, training my body to fit his.

“Uhh,” I responded, all I could manage.

My body responded to them both, naturally and instinctively, I raised my legs and crossed my ankles at the small of Damian’s back. I writhed both with and against them. Damian grunted as he plunged in and out of me in slow, deep thrusts, taking his time, enjoying every moment of our lovemaking. My body squeezed him, tried to hold him deep inside as his thick, spongy head slid over my g-spot in a deliberately teasing motion.

Slowly he increased his rhythm, his pelvis pistoning forward and back, making me rock against the surface of the bed and dragging a gasp
of unexpected pleasure from my throat. My big breasts jiggled and I found that in my present position, with my back arched and only the crown of my head touching the bed, I was more or less flaunting them right in front of Dorian’s face. I finally cried out right into Dorian’s mouth, then reached up and wreathed my arms around his neck in an effort to hang on as Damian pushed me to the edge and beyond into release.

Dorian groaned, overwhelmed by temptation, and clamped his mouth down around one stiff nipple, biting hard even as
Damian bit the sensitive skin at the base of my throat. I cried out at the sudden, sharp sensations coming at me from both sides. I could see, from my position beneath him a little, that Dorian had undone his own trousers and his own cock was hard and tight against his belly, and that copious amounts of precum were pouring from the little slit.

“Christ, you’re sexy,” Dorian moaned around my nipple.

“Come for me, Belle,” Damian growled into my throat. He thrust one last time, hard, so hard he actually lifted my hips up off the bed, and I came, crying out, between my two gentlemen.

My orgasm left me
trembling with weakness as I fell back onto the bed, my whole body alight with pleasure and satisfaction. I wanted to rub myself against the bedclothes like a cat, then curl up against my lovers and enjoy the afterglow of our sex, but Dorian was still biting me and I could feel the mania of his passion, his as-yet-unfulfilled need to take me, to be inside me. He let me go, my breasts splattered with his saliva, and growled, “My turn. Hands and knees.
Now
, Belle.”

Damian
moved so I could scramble onto my hands and knees in the middle of the bed.

Damian
was right. It wasn’t he I had to worry about. Dorian was the rough one, the demanding one. No sooner was I in position, but he was mounting me, pushing my head down so my ass was in the air, easier for him to fuck hard and fast. He probed my wet opening, his big cock slapping against my ass and cunt, streams of precum pouring down the insides of my thighs. He teased me, dry humped me, only stopping to slip on a condom and to bump my ass with his giant, soft head.

“I’ll have that
pretty ass in time. But not tonight.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure if I could handle him filling my ass as well as my cunt
tonight, not after Damian had finished stretching me. There was already a pleasant, thrumming ache that filled my womb, similar to when I went on a wild diet-and-exercise routine that left me aching the next day. His arms went around me tight, his hands grabbing and squeezing the heavy globes of my breasts until I cried out in delight and surprise.

He leaned down,
whispered, “Belle, I will never, ever hurt you.”

“Yes,” I said. I knew he would not. Somehow, I knew.

He bit my shoulder, heaved himself upward and slid home. I came again, immediately, almost painfully since it was my third orgasm and I was nearly dry, wrung out, but this little pain was magnificent and left me gasping and arching against him, trying to take him as deeply as I could.

He
pinned my upper body to the mattress and sexed me hard, and I knew it was only the fact that Damian had already stretched me that kept what he was doing from feeling uncomfortable. I still gasped at the sensation, my entire body rocking as he penetrated me, withdrew, filled me once more, his huge balls slapping against my ass as he drove himself, growling, ever deeper inside me. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head at the unbelievable sensation of being used so roughly, so completely, and I had to stifle a scream when he forced my head down, my cheek against the mattress, one of his fists tangling in my hair as he altered his angle, went deeper still, to the end of me.

Damian
chuckled from his position on the bed beside me. “I told you he was far worse than I. Belle and her beasts.”

“Oh god
,” was all I can manage as my body was assaulted by striking waves of almost painful pleasure. A few more thrusts and Dorian grew still, shivered all over as he came, then sighed with satisfaction into my hair.

He pulled me up
, against the front of his body, his cock still buried deep inside me, and just held me like some precious treasure, stroking my hair and down the front of my body, squeezing and plucking at my nipples, kissing all along my hairline and chin. “You’re fucking perfect for us, my little beauty,” he hoarsely whispered.

“I told you she would be,” Damian added.

I smiled, my heart happy and proud to have pleased my gentlemen so well.

***

In the days that followed, it took me longer to finish my job at the Michaels mansion, but I didn’t mind so much. There were some wonderful perks.

I tried to arrive a little earlier now, so I had time to go upstairs to the playroom and change.
One of my orders as the Michaels’ new courtesan was to wear the cute little maid outfit I’d worn that first night at their dinner party, along with stockings and heels. Damian said the dress made me very sexy, very desirable, and I wanted to be that for my gentlemen. I pulled off my panties and pulled on long fishnet stockings and stepped into the three-inch Mary Jane pumps they kept ready for me. I checked myself in the full-length mirror and felt really beautiful for a change. After that, I went downstairs to do my duties for the afternoon.

Little had changed there. I took an inventory of the household, then went to work vacuuming and dusting, clearing the fast food debris in the liv
ing room (if there was any), loading the dishwasher in the kitchen, answered the door and saw new patients in, and ran the dry cleaning the service left hanging in the foyer up the stairs to the Michaels’ bedrooms. The heels slowed me down, but I was getting used to them, and the looks I got from the Michaels brothers when they passed me in the halls was more than worth some achy feet at the end of the day.

While I was taking one of Dorian’s tuxedos in its plastic bag up the stairs, I saw Veronica step
out of the consultation room and into the hallway. “Belle!” she said, waving.

I stopped and gave her a wide smile. “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Veronica. How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful.” She looked very smart in her white suit, even if she was wearing “falsies” under it. “My surgery is planned for next week, so I’m very excited about that.” Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “And very grateful to you for being my ‘model’.”

I blushed at that.

She flicked a long, russet lock of hair off my forehead. “You’re so pretty. Have you ever considered being a model?”

I laughed at that. “At my weight? No.”

“Plus-sized models are all the rage, my dear.” She winked. “If you ever change your mind, you know who to come to.” She gave me her card and turned her svelte self toward the door.

I was feeling very beautiful after talking to Ms. Veronica.

I finished running Dorian’s clothes up, then came back down, frowning at the hallway runner, which always got the most traffic. I got out my trusty Dyson from the hall closet and went over it carefully, then decided to give the living room a sweep.

With the vacuum running, I didn’t hear Dorian come in or take his place in one of the wing chairs by the hearth.
As I was shutting off the Dyson and coiling the cord up, I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting in the chair, his chin cradled on his fist, and enjoying the sight of my legs and bare ass cheeks that always wound up on display whenever I bent over in the tiny dress.

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t see you there,” I said.

“That’s because you work too hard.” He smirked to show he was teasing me.

I smiled back. “I like the work.”

“You do, don’t you, my dear? Don’t find it beneath you?”

“I don’t believe any kind of honest work is beneath someone.”

“True,” he agreed. “But I do hope you’ve set your sights on something bigger in the future. What’s your major, if I might ask?”

“Business administration,” I told him.

“And you’re graduating next year?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What are your plans?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t decided.” The truth was, I was having difficulty thinking that far ahead. Ever since Clark, I had taken the philosophy of living one day at a time.

He continued to look me over. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor.

I knew what he wanted. Had another man made such a gesture, I would have told him to fuck off, but Dorian was my gentleman. I wa
nted to please him.

I went to him and knelt down. I undid his trousers. His cock was huge and hard, and his balls swollen
and tight against his groin. I bent my head and licked at the rigid, veiny underside of that beautiful cock, little licks that I graduated upward until I reached his crown. I squeezed and kneaded his balls in my hand. By then he was moaning and tangling his hands in my hair, and his cock was pulsing out a steady stream of precum. The sight of it made the wetness between my legs grow. I couldn’t believe that I had such control over this man, that I could wring such a reaction from him. It was very empowering. I licked up every drop before taking his huge, bulbous head in my mouth.

“God, you’re
fucking sexy, Belle,” he said. “And you always know exactly what I need.”

I smiled around the thick, meaty organ in my mouth, happy to draw such an admission from such a normally stoic man.

He nested his hands in my hair and pulled, guiding my head up and down over his cock until I felt the now-familiar contraction of his belly muscles that signaled that he was close to coming.

“I want to see my come all over you,” he said, and pulled my hair, pulled me off his cock, and dragged me upward until I was straddling his lap
and pressed against the hard muscle of his chest under his suit, his stiff cock sandwiched between us. He easily ripped the buttons open on the little maid’s dress and my breasts bounced out, the peaks stiff and strawberry red and as ready to serve him as the rest of me was. He cradled my breasts in his big hands, working the nipples harder still, worshipping them in a way that made me feel both proud and beautiful. His. I gasped and writhed at all the attention he was showing me.

“Do you like that, Belle?” he asked
in a scorching voice.

“Oh yes. I love the way you touch me, sir,” I told him honestly.

He squeezed my breasts together and lifted his hips, sliding his cock into the space between. He slid in and out, and it was only a matter of moments before he came, shooting his load between my globes so the stickiness poured down the front of my body. Then he seized my cheeks and kissed me, shamelessly rubbing his suit against my sticky breasts, rubbing his scent into my skin so I smelled like him, like his come and his cologne.

“Are you mine, Belle?”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered against his lips, breathing in the loamy, male scent of him.

“Good girl,” he said, giving my right breast a friendly squeeze before dropping his hand to the wet, slick folds between my legs. “You’re
always so beautifully wet and ready,” he said, hooking two fingers inside my body and making a come-hither gesture that stiffened my back and forced me to stifle a cry of pure pleasure.

After only two weeks of being his courtesan, he knew my body so well, knew what got me off.

I gripped his shoulders and arched upward. He hit me just right, with just enough force, sliding his fingers along my ribbed g-spot so my orgasm was powerful and immediate. My body clenched up around his fingers and my pelvis undulated with the shockwave of sudden release. I tilted my head back and cried out as I came for him, wetting his hand with my come, not that he seemed to mind.

He was smirking at my reaction.
He licked the wetness from his fingers before rebuttoning my dress. “I’ll let you go now, my dear. My brother wants to see you in the administration office.”

When my breathing returned to normal and
I found I could stand up straight again, I thanked him and took myself off to the office where I had first met the Michaels brothers.

Damian
was sitting behind the desk, frowning over the laptop where he was doing the business finances, a job I knew he hated. But as I stepped into the room, he said, “Desk, please, Belle.”

Like with Dorian, after
weeks of working for the Michaels brothers as their courtesan, I knew exactly what he wanted, what he liked. He was my gentleman; I wanted to please him. I thought at first I might find it demeaning to be used this way, but the brothers didn’t treat me that way. They were good lovers; they worried constantly about my satisfaction as well as their own.