Under His Watch (10 page)

It was the fantasy she absolutely, positively had never let herself entertain or elaborate. It was the place she never touched when she played with herself, no matter how much she wanted to touch it. And yet somehow she knew that if Ryan were going to teach her how to belong to him, and to be a good girl for him, she needed to yield her bottom up to him. If she couldn’t earn the privilege of having his cock in her ass, she would, she felt in that instant, shrivel up and die.

When he had told her he might punish her by having her wear a butt plug to work, with no underwear, that arousal had reawakened. When he had called her a fuck-toy, the first place she had thought he might enjoy playing with was her bottom.

After they did the dishes together, Ryan said, in the voice of authority Charity had quickly come to recognize as his ‘sir’ voice, “Okay, honey, go into your bedroom and kneel on the bed, facing the headboard. Leave the apron on.”

“Why?” Charity whispered, turning to him at the sink, still holding a dishtowel.

“I think you know why.”

Charity felt her pussy contract. “Say it, please, sir.” Her mouth felt very dry.

“Turn around and bend over,” he said in the same voice, but more softly.

Charity gulped, and obeyed.

“Hands on your knees, and back arched, honey.”

Charity drew a sharp breath as she felt how the simple posture thrust her backside out lewdly at the man who knew how to take it, and her, in hand. Then he did, putting his big hand there and pushing with his middle finger.
Oh, God,
Charity thought.
Can I really do this?

But the best part was that she wasn’t doing it: Ryan was doing it to her, and with her—by
means
of her. Yes, she obeyed, but it felt good to obey when you trusted the person who required your obedience—especially when he stood at 6′ 3″ and had enormous muscles.

“Because it’s time to train you, honey. That’s why you’re going to go into the bedroom, and do as you’re told.”

“Yes, sir,” Charity gasped, as the finger on her anus became more insistent.

“I’m going to make sure you can give me as much pleasure as I want, here.”

“Ah!” The finger pushed in, just a little. “Yes, sir!”

“Do you want to please me with your bottom, Charity?”

“Oh, God… yes… y-yes, sir…”

He pulled his finger out, making her gasp again. Then he put his right hand on her hip, underneath the skimpy fabric of the apron, making her feel even more controlled. He bent down and murmured in her ear, “Well, if you’re a good girl for your training, you may earn that privilege by tomorrow night. I’d certainly like to put my cock in there, because I know how nice and tight it’s going to be, but you’ll have to show me how much you want me there first.”

Then he spanked her once, very hard. “Ow!” Charity yelped and jumped away, turning around to look at him reproachfully. She put her hands down behind her and rubbed her bottom, trying to ease the sharp sting of unexpected discipline.

“Never try to get away from me like that when I spank you, honey. And never rub without permission.”

Charity felt her eyes widen, and she took her hands away. How could he be so severe, and yet also so… wonderful? How could his being severe itself
be
wonderful?

“Come back here and get yourself back into position.”

Now her heart quailed. “Sir, I…” She just wanted a moment to think.

“Do as I’ve said, Charity,” Ryan said. “This is important. I have to know you’ll stay where I put you, even if it’s for a spanking.”

Charity felt her knees start to shake. His authority sometimes seemed just too much to handle. She took a step toward him and, slowly, willing her body to comply, she turned around and put her hands on her knees.

“Bottom out,” Ryan said, seeming more patient now that Charity had begun to comply. Charity arched her back.

Ryan took firm, but not painful, hold of her left shoulder, and Charity felt her body tense, knowing that a painful swat was coming.

But it wasn’t. Ryan caressed her bottom instead, pushing his fingers gently between her thighs and into her pussy. Charity cried out louder, she was sure, than she would have cried out if he had hit her.

“See?” Ryan said softly. “I know what you need, honey. I know how to train you. Now get going.”

Aching with arousal, and not daring to turn around, Charity obeyed and went to her bedroom.

* * *

Five minutes later, she heard Ryan’s astonishingly soft footfalls enter the room. How could he walk so quietly? Catlike? Tigerlike?

Charity had only switched on the lamp again; now Ryan turned on the overhead light.

“Oh, sir,” Charity said. She didn’t know why having him do that felt so humiliating. She was comfortable with her body, and she loved to look at
him,
but something about knowing that he wanted to see her as clearly as possible, while he… She still couldn’t seem to think the word ‘fuck’ smoothly—maybe it wasn’t because the word had anything all that dirty about it, in her mind. Maybe it was because it was such an inadequate word for the world of pain and pleasure, and discipline and sex, into which Ryan had plunged her without warning.

Something about knowing that he would look at her while he trained her for his pleasure seemed to push a shame button deep in her heart—and, it seemed, also in her pussy, for she grew instantly wet as the implication of the light’s being on grew clear in her mind.

“Honey,” he said. “I’m going to see what I want to see. Do you understand that, or do you need me to spank you to get my point across?”

Charity swallowed hard, beginning once again to pant with arousal. “I understand, sir.”

Ryan closed the door. Then his voice came from right behind her. “Cheek to the pillow. Bottom up and out. Knees spread.”

Charity obeyed, still breathing hard at the implication of the posture. The apron’s front fell to either side of her thighs, emphasizing even further that it left her completely exposed in just the place Ryan said he would train her.

“What a sweet pussy, honey. So nice to look at, and…” She felt him climbing onto the bed, and then she felt his weight shift. He crouched over her, and then his cock was right there, pushing in swiftly, making her moan. “…so nice to fuck.”

The pleasure flooded her body; the combination of his demeaning little words of praise for her pussy and the sheer sensation of having his enormous cock there, where it belonged, threatened to push her past the bounds of reason.

“So nice to have you in this apron,” he murmured as he continued to fuck her at a leisurely pace. “I know I said you won’t be barefoot in the kitchen, but I think you’ll always be dressed like this when I give you cooking lessons.”

“Oh… sir, please…” The image seemed so hot and so wrong at the same time. “Sir, I’m…” The pleasure ballooned inside her belly, and she knew she would go over the edge into orgasm soon. Never in her life had orgasm been anything but a sort of pleasurable chore for herself or for one of her boyfriends; one that took patience and labor. Now, with Ryan, they seemed to come before she even knew what was happening.

“Go ahead, honey,” he said, seeming just a little bit short of breath. “I want to come inside you, too.”

So Charity came, and Ryan came: the first simultaneous orgasm of Charity’s admittedly fairly limited sexual experience. The bed creaked loudly, because as Ryan pounded her bottom his thrusting grew very hard, and that made Charity have another one of her new found multi-orgasms as his cock seemed to come all the way up into her chest, and the feeling of being impaled by a mighty weapon, as silly as it might seem when she wasn’t actually getting fucked by her spec-ops warrior, nevertheless sent her flying off into ecstasy.

Then Ryan’s cock started to pulse inside her pussy, and Charity cried out at the lovely feeling that told her she had pleased the man who possessed her. He shouted with pleasure, and Charity thought she had never heard a sound more wonderful than that. Then, at last, he was still. He murmured, “Good girl. Such a good girl. Thank you, honey.”

Paradoxically, being called a good girl seemed to make Charity feel naughty. “Am I closer to earning my privilege?” she asked, trying to sound a little mischievous.

Ryan chuckled. “Yes, little slut. You certainly are.”

* * *

They slept after that, and didn’t wake again until almost noon on Sunday. Charity opened her eyes to find that Ryan had already risen. When she moved her legs, she realized that her pussy was sore—very sore. Ryan’s cock… well, a dirty part of her had always wanted to be fucked by a huge cock, so she had gotten what she deserved yet again, hadn’t she? And the soreness—it was kind of like the spanking, as long as she didn’t move too suddenly; it made her warm yet again, especially when she remembered how insistent Ryan had seemed to be on making sure she
would
be sore, and would remember her first day as his girl—her first day of training—for a long time.

“How are you doing, honey?” Ryan said from the doorway. He held two cups of coffee. “I’m bringing you breakfast in bed—here’s the beginning.”

A rush of what could only be the start of love for him filled her heart. He probably didn’t know
exactly
when to shift between ‘sir’ and ‘Ryan,’ but so far he’d come pretty darn close to perfection. Even the moment the previous night, when he had flipped up her apron and arrogantly started to play with her pussy hadn’t really been a mistake, on that front. Feeling the beginnings of her bodyguard overpowering her resistance, holding her hand in place so that he could do as he wished between her legs, had been as arousing as any experience in her whole life. And his instant shift, his immediate retreat to ‘conventional boyfriend’ behavior had demonstrated even more forcefully to her that she could trust him.

“I’m sore,” she said, pouting as theatrically as she could.

Ryan chuckled and brought her the coffee. “I kind of thought you might be. That’s why you’re having breakfast in bed, like an old-fashioned newlywed bride.”

Charity giggled. “Do you like knowing I’m sore, sir?”

Ryan grinned. “Yup.” He kissed her, tasting deliciously of coffee and toothpaste. “I’ll go get the rest of breakfast.”

He disappeared back through the doorway. Charity thought for a few moments about Alexandropolis, wondering whether she should simply accept—as it appeared she had now begun to accept—that the Temple of Apollo was doomed. But her thoughts kept turning in a very different direction: how could she earn the privilege of anal? What would Ryan’s next lesson be?

Sighing at her weakness as a warrior for cultural heritage, she put her hand to her bottom experimentally, and gave a long, drawn-out moan at the lingering ache of the belt marks there, and at the way, when she moved her cheeks a little, the delicious soreness of her pussy rose up again. As long as she didn’t move those parts
too
much… Her arousal seemed to build and build with those gentle touches, and her moan became a little whimper.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, holding the tray in the doorway. His voice, thank goodness, was amused rather than stern.

“I’m sore,” Charity said again, to cover her illicit activity, and guiltily removed her hands from her lower regions, moving slowly so as not to let Ryan see exactly where they had been.

Chapter Twelve

Ryan did love to know that his cock had made his girl’s pussy sore. But he knew from experience that they should probably wait a while before they began the intense stuff again. He sat next to Charity on the side of the bed and ate a few bites of the pancakes he had made for her. After she had finished eating, he took the tray away and washed the dishes.

When he returned to Charity’s bedroom, she was sitting up in bed, looking at him with a secretive little smile on her face. After he had finally taken the apron off her, she had moved to get out of bed as if to put on her PJs, but he had forbidden it, and that—as Ryan intended—made her snuggle her beautiful naked body even closer into his, as if seeking warmth from his own strong limbs. It was summer in New York, but her apartment was very well-air-conditioned.

He studied the mischief on her face and reached a conclusion. He chuckled. “Honey, were you playing with yourself?”

“I was thinking of you!” she protested.

“What did I tell you yesterday?”

Charity’s face fell, at least on the surface of her expression. Ryan could tell, though, that she had a smile just underneath her apparent remorse. She had started to understand when he was playing and when he was being serious about taking care of her.

“Not today,” she mumbled.

“What’s that?” he demanded.

She kept looking down at her hands, folded on her lap over the comforter, and said, a little louder, “Not today.”

“Look at me, slut,” Ryan said, his dominant blood starting to pump—to his cock, above all—as he ratcheted matters up. Charity’s eyes snapped to his, much wider now. “I said not yesterday, and not today, and this is the second time I’ve caught you playing with my property just this morning.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered.

“I think you’ve just set back your progress toward earning anal, young lady.”

Charity’s chest heaved with two sharp breaths that Ryan knew indicated he had lit a fire in her pussy. “Oh, sir,” she pleaded. “Please, no.”

“Do you really want my cock in your bottom?”

Now her eyes betrayed that, really, she wasn’t entirely sure she did, but that the fantasy had nevertheless taken firm hold of her.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Let’s see that bottom, then. On top of the covers, cheek to the pillow. Spread those cheeks for me.”

Her mouth fell open, as if she were going to voice some protest, like “Not yet,” but then to his enormous satisfaction, Ryan watched Charity decide to trust him. She scrambled out from under the comforter, her cheeks pink, and assumed the wonderful position, showing him the view he loved, of pussy and anus ready for both their pleasure.