Traded for Love (13 page)

“Ah! Fuck!” she cried out.

“Want more?” I shouted.

“Yes, sir! Please spank me again!” she begged.

I struck her again, so hard that her calf muscles flexed. The leather left behind a nice red mark that began to swell almost immediately.

For five minutes, I wailed on her, taking out my frustrations on the curve of her ass. Why couldn't she be
her
instead? Why couldn't it be
her
begging for the pain?

By the time I stopped, I was out of breath. Julia was sobbing.

“Have you learned your lesson?” I asked. “Do you want more?”

“I … I want whatever you want, Master,” she said.

I took a fistful of her hair and gently tugged her across the room, guiding her to the bed. I pushed her upper body over onto the bed. She braced herself. “Oh Julia,” I said, unzipping my pants, “you can't possibly give me everything I want.”

I found my keys in my pocket and the tiny key that would unlock my slave's pussy. I disengaged the lock and pulled the lower piece of the belt off, then tossed it onto the pillows.

Almost on its own, my cock sprung out of my boxers, eager to fuck anything if it would help ease the burn of wanting the other woman. Anything to lessen the ache. She was dripping wet, but I smirked when I saw her asshole flinch.

Inspired to fuck her there instead of her pussy, I spit on that tight entrance.

“You know what I want, slut?” I growled.

“What do you want, Master?” she moaned desperately.

I gripped the hair that lay over her shoulders and yanked her head back. “I want you to be her.”

An impossible request … I knew it was.

She sobbed again, but I put a stop to that with the head of my cock, which I pressed into her asshole. “That's right. You want it, don't you? Who's despicable now?!” I asked triumphantly. She didn't respond, so I gave her hair a pull. “I asked you a question, slave.”

“Me, Master, I'm despicable!” she answered.

“That's right. You love this. You love this cock that fucks other woman, don't you?” I swatted her beet-red ass-cheek as I fed her two inches of my dick.

“Yes! Yes! I love your cock, sir!”

Of course she did. As I slid all the way in, she was arching her back like a cat in heat. I knew it was torture. She'd told me many times that receiving anal just made her pussy hotter for me. In a sense, it was worse than most other punishments because her cunt was wide open but empty and desperate to be filled.

Her ass was tight, and I reveled in the feeling of sliding in and out of that forbidden place, the place that only I could fuck, because I owned her.

“That's right,” I growled as I quickened my pace, “you're mine, aren't you slut?”

“Yes, sir, I'm … yours. Please, don't stop, Master!” As she begged, she moved back against me, taking all of me to satisfy her craving. I cursed her on every other stroke.

Her moans became more insistent.

“Is that a complaint?” I asked, slamming into her without reprieve.

“No, sir!”

“You're not about to come without permission are you?”

“N—no!”

“You're fucking lying!” I spanked her good and hard. “You want to come, don't you, slut?”

“Yes, Master, please allow me to come!”

“Oh, but that means I'd have to bother fucking your pussy. Is it even worth it?” I feigned a sigh and slid out of her. Just like a good slave, she maintained herself to the point that there was never any mess from using any part of her.

Always the good girl, aren't you, bitch? I thought.

“Beg,” I commanded.

“Please, fuck my pussy,” she entreated. “Please, sir. I want your cock so bad. I'll do anything!”

“Spread your cunt, bitch. I'm going to fuck you til you're numb,” I threatened.

She reached back and used her hands to open herself up. The glistening lips parted like a blooming flower. My cock throbbed in approval. No one else had access to her except me, thanks to the device, not that she would even consider fucking someone else. Knowing that I controlled her pleasure almost made it okay that she wasn't the other woman. Almost.

Without priming her, I buried myself inside of her. Her muscles flexed around me, welcome, inviting, sucking me in.

I couldn't make the other slave come, but Julia was going to have several to make up for it. And tomorrow, I would bring the other woman to her knees.

Making Julia come was easy. I knew exactly which buttons to press.

With each thrust, I felt her polished fingernails against my skin. She was so wide open and yet so tight, so unused, yet so very used, dirty … soiled.

“Fucking come, you slut. Come right now!” I shouted.

“So close!” she promised. “I'm so close, Master!”

“I'm not stopping until you come, Julia! Come, damn you!” I pumped her until I was moving at breakneck speed.

Finally, with a loud scream, she gave in, let the crash happen. As she melted, white-hot around me, I kept up the dialog. “That's right, bitch. That orgasm is on loan. I expect to get it back.”

Inside, I felt the euphoric wash. Sweet control. I'd forgotten how good it was.

She collapsed onto the bed. My cock bobbed in the air, dripping with the evidence that it'd been a while since she'd had an orgasm.

“Lick it clean,” I demanded.

Out of breath and exhausted, she turned around on shaky knees and settled her sore ass on the bed.

She knew the drill when it came to sucking me off.

With her hands flat on the bed, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, lay her tongue out and waited.

I stepped up to her, took the sides of her head in the palms of my hands and guided her open mouth onto the head of my cock.

Just as she had many times, she took the entire length without flinching. We'd spent a long time training her throat. Emily hadn't mastered this, not that I'd pushed the issue. No, Julia was perfect for this when I needed it.

Without mercy, I fucked her mouth. Once in a while she let out a small gag, but I knew it was just for show. She had no trouble servicing me until the end.

I thought of the woman I'd fucked an hour before. As I shot my load into Julia's mouth, it wasn't the memory of how good the other woman felt, or even how pretty she was, it was the look in her eyes as she told me
no
.

Don't worry, honey, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be saying yes to me … over and over again
.

(Emily)

The front door opened and closed. I hadn't been able to fall asleep. I lay awake in our bed wondering where Jack had gone and whether he would come back that night.

He came into the bedroom. I heard him take a deep breath and untie his tie. Groaning, he went into the bathroom. The toilet flushed. Then, for fifteen minutes, the shower ran.

When he returned, he was naked and dripping wet.

“Jack?” I asked quietly.

He grunted. “I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep.”

“I'm sorry about earlier.”

His silhouette was all I could see, the only light being the moonlight streaming in through the blinds of the closest window. He'd been drying his hair with a towel, but he stopped and tossed it on the dresser.

“It's okay,” he said.

“Are you coming to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah. I'm tired.” He climbed in beside me but as far away as possible.

His breathing slowed and I curled up to his back. “Jack?”

“Jesus, you're cold,” he complained, pulling the sheet up to his neck.

“Sorry.” I licked my dry lips. “Jack, do you remember our wedding day?”

“Hm?” He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Remember what you told me?” I asked.

He didn't answer. A moment later, a snore rumbled from his chest.

I sighed, turned over and stared at the wall.

I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the pearls that had been threaded through my hair
.
Kim was busy lacing up the back of my wedding gown
.
I felt more beautiful than ever in that dress
.

“There,” Kim said, smiling at me over my shoulder, “You're buttoned in back here
.
”

“Thanks,” I said
.
When our eyes met in the mirror, both of us got teary
.

Kim spun me slowly
.
“I can't believe it
.
It seems like just yesterday you were running around in diapers and now you're getting married
.
I'm so happy for you
.
” She grinned
.
“You're so gorgeous
.
Dad would have cried
.
” We laughed together
.
“And mom … mom would have definitely been a mess!”

She swept away a tear before it left a trail down her cheek
.

“I love you, Kim
.
”

“I love you, too,” she said, folding me into a tight hug
.

The door opened, interrupting our Kodak moment
.

“Jack!” I exclaimed
.
He looked stunning in his classic tux
.
“Go away! You can't see me before the wedding! It's bad luck!”

“Nonsense
.
That's just an old superstition
.
Kim, I'd like a moment alone with Emily if you don't mind
.
” He stepped in and held the door open for her
.

She cocked an eyebrow
.
“I'm not sure why I ever expected you keep to tradition
.
” With a shake of her head, she gave in to Jack's wishes and stepped out
.

His face was serious as he closed and locked the door
.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” I asked
.

“Nothing's wrong
.
”

I was anything but assured
.

“Are you … sure? You're acting strange
.
”

“I wanted to talk to you before we do this
.
” He strode across the room and looked me up and down
.

“What's wrong? You can tell me
.
” I took his hands in mine
.

His blue eyes looked into mine
.
“I want to hear you say that you're mine
.
”

I chuckled
.
“Of course I am, silly
.
”

“I'm fucking serious,” he spat
.

I was taken aback by his harsh tone
.
“Jack, I am yours
.
I promise
.
”

“Say it
.
Say you belong to me
.
” His gaze penetrated me to my core
.
He looked afraid and it was contagious
.

“I belong to you,” I repeated
.

He dropped my hands and turned his back to me
.
“Fuck
.
” He ran his fingers through his hair
.
“It's not enough
.
… Why isn't it enough?!”

“You don't believe me?” Tears stung my eyes
.

“No … no
.
” He turned back
.
“I believe you
.
I'm sorry
.
” He heaved a deep breath
.
“I'm sorry
.
I guess I'm just nervous
.
I needed to hear it again
.
”

I fought the tears and gave him the biggest smile I could muster
.
“I'm yours, Jack Duncan
.
To cherish
.
To have and to hold
.
”

His face hardened
.
“Right
.
To have … and to hold
.
” He bent and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek
.
“Forever
.
”

I nodded
.
“That's right
.
” I stroked his forehead gently
.
“Forever
.
”

“To have and to hold,” I whispered to myself as the memory faded. “To hold.”

It was then that I realize he'd never repeated the part about cherishing me.

Then I wondered if I should be surprised.

The next morning, I turned over to continue our conversation from the previous night. Jack was gone.

I sighed and sat up. I'd passed the restless night thinking of his words. He'd begged me to promise him I was his. What had he meant by, “It's not enough?” Enough for what?

A headache was already forming at my temples, so I headed for the shower to try and ease it away. When
that
didn't help, I took aspirin and got dressed.

Katherine was laughing hysterically at something. Hearing her be happy reduced my misery—at least a little. Eager to escape from the memory of last night, I went into the nursery to see Donna sitting on the floor, stacking blocks into a tower.

“Look! Mama's here!” Donna announced.

Katherine clapped her hands together, then reached out for me.