“You need me. Your house is very messy.”
Her laugh was slow, the sound twisted as she made her way towards my head. She paused in front of me, holding up a bottle of lube and a strap-on. “Any more smart ass comments before I decide how much lube to use for our last session together?”
My body clenched, my erection pressing uncomfortably into the wood. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in that dress, Mistress? Red is definitely your color.”
She frowned as she tilted the bottle, squeezing some over the tip of the strap-on. “Can’t remember the last time I violated a man’s ass. Hope I remember how.” Her lips curved as she taunted. “Does that look like enough lube?”
“I’m not sure, Mistress. I’ve never had my ass violated before, but I imagine it’s one of those situations where too much is much better than too little.”
Her smile fell, her eyes widening. “You said you’ve been with other dommes.”
“None I trusted with my ass, Mistress.”
She stared at me, the thoughts scrambling behind her eyes. “How could you be topped by someone you didn’t trust?”
“A lot of people are trustworthy until they get a taste of control, then they forget why they were given it in the first place.”
The strap-on and lube fell to the floor as she circled me, unbuckling the restraints. “Get up.”
I remained still as the straps slipped from my body, freeing me. “Not until you violate my ass, Mistress.”
“Stop trying to top from the bottom.”
“It isn’t topping from the bottom if it’s what you want to do to me.” I grabbed the bench when she reached for my hair, refusing to allow her to pull me off. “Why are you making this a thing–”
“Because I don’t understand why you trust me!” The words fired from her lips, cutting through my chest when I realized she still didn’t trust herself.
I tightened my grip on the bench, bracing myself. “Violate my ass, Mistress! Claim me as yours because your house and your head are a fucking mess and I’m not going anywhere!”
She shook her head, tightening her fist in my hair as she pulled my head back. “You’re not ready for life as my slave.”
I held her stare, refusing to budge. “Violate my ass, Mistress.”
“I’m a domme in the community. If I want to torment another slave, I will. If I want another slave to please me with his cock, he will.”
I pushed up on my knees, wiggling my hips in the air. “Violate my ass, Mistress.”
She bit into her lip, the darkness in her eyes fading. “If I want another slave to service my pussy with his mouth, he will.”
“Claim. My. Ass. Mistress.”
She exhaled, her heel dragging over the floor as she circled me. The sound teased through my bones, tingling through my body. I tensed when she bent down, picking up the strap-on before positioning herself behind me.
“I won’t violate you. I won’t claim you.” Her voice rolled up my spine, taunting in its cadence. I tensed when cold lube drizzled over my ass, holding still while she rubbed the tip of her strap-on through it. She paused, positioning herself over me without pushing inside me. “If you think you can handle everything I am, show me.”
My lips curved, thankful the strap-on was significantly smaller than the one from her house. I pushed back, jumping when the tip slipped inside me, clenching at the unfamiliar burn. I inhaled before exhaling slowly, trying to relax my resistance. She remained silent as I struggled, her body still when I pushed back again. The discomfort rippled through me, my cock pulsing harshly at the sensation, angered by the lack of attention. I inhaled again, pushing back hard, the exhale rushing from my mouth when my muscles faltered, allowing the intrusion to break through, my body stopping its submission when it hit against her hips.
I froze when she moved inside me, the feeling strange. The tension faded when her hand wrapped around my cock, redirecting my attention to the stroke. I grunted when she pushed into me again, desperate to find a focus, my mind scrambling to process the sensations. The heat in my ass twisted down my length, her stroke intensifying the sensation as it sent it spidering down my legs.
The unfamiliar blurred with the familiar, the discomfort entwining with my desperation, my denied need beginning to drip as I clenched. I pushed back harder, her thrust answering back, our hips colliding somewhere in-between. Her hand stroked over me, rough in its tease, a final pulse rocking through me before the heat erupted. It ripped through my body, trying to escape, the only relief the howl that cried from my lips.
***
Gemma
***
Music pounded through the Château, the party already packed, the dommes already staking their claims, the slaves already praying for stamina. I wrapped the leash around my wrist, leading him through the mass of dommes. He didn’t belong to the community. He wasn’t there for the taking. If they wanted any part of him, they would have to go through me. Their eyes followed us, glancing from below his waist to the rest of him before meeting my gaze. I met their smiles with my own, hinting I was willing to share.
I led him farther into the massive dungeon, searching for an empty space. Mistress Karmen, the goddess of pain, laughed as she taunted her captive with a cane. A cage full of slaves awaited their fate at her hands, jumping at her every move. Mistress Eli, a queen of bondage, spun a cocooned slave, explaining to the dommes watching how she accomplished the impressive feat. Mistress Morgaine, a brilliant huntress, circled her prey. His fingers nervously touched his trainee collar, his body shivering as she whispered in his ear. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the curve of Cole’s lips. No hesitation met my stare. No fear. No vanilla. Arlo would have never survived my world.
“The rumors didn’t do him justice,” Mistress Marjorie mused as I walked by, her hazel eyes scanning his skin. “Is he available for use?”
I paused, trying to remember her vanilla name as I assessed her, enjoying her discomfort when I circled her. Dark hair barely reached her shoulders, teasing over the thin straps of a sheer, red dress.
“Like what you see?” she taunted, raising her chin when I stopped in front of her.
I smiled at her effort to maintain on level ground. “Shaved?”
Her eyes narrowed at the question, glancing around before raising her chin again. “Bare.”
“Cock only. One orgasm only. No missionary. After you come, no lingering. I reserve the right to end your access to my cock at any time. Those are my terms.”
“He does the work and I want it from behind. Those are my terms.”
“Agreed.” I tightened the leash around my wrist, leading him to an empty bed. Mistress Marjorie climbed onto the mattress, pulling her dress up. “Get me wet, sla–”
“I said cock only,” I cut her off, wrapping my hand around Cole’s length.
“He can’t fuck me dry with that thing!”
I shrugged, staring down at her as I stroked my hand over him. “We can wait.”
“You can’t be ser–”
“You knew the terms.”
She sighed, laying back as she spread her legs, rubbing her fingers over her clit. They slid between her bare folds, slipping inside her before returning to her clit, sliding over the swelling skin. Cole’s need began to pulse against my palm, his eyes locked on her movement. I continued my caress, enjoying the rhythmic beat in my hand, the thought of how it would feel inside me drifting through my head.
Mistress Marjorie rolled over, rising onto her hands and knees before searching over her shoulder. I held his leash while he positioned himself behind her, watching when he rubbed himself over her folds, her arousal soaking his tip before he steadied himself to push inside her. She shivered when he slipped into her, far from fully inside when he began to thrust. I’d never seen him in control of the movement, only watched as he was mounted and used. He took his time, going deeper as her body allowed, careful until her hips shifted, pushing back for more.
I was lost in his movement, hypnotized by every inch of him disappearing inside her, the way her body stretched to accept him, the tremors the movements were sending through her muscles, her arousal glistening over his skin each time he pulled out. Her moans grew louder the easier he slid, the noise drawing curious dommes to the bed. Their skin flushed as they watched, their lips curving, fingers pointing as Mistress Marjorie trembled.
Obscenities fell from her lips as Cole pushed inside her, falling into an easy rhythm. What did she know that I didn’t? What was bringing them all into this strange heat, surrounding the bed in hopes they’d get a turn? Longing laced with jealousy rippled through me. It was a knowledge I would never have. A closeness to him I wanted to feel but doubted I could ever obtain.
He grabbed her hips, steadying her when she sank to her elbows, her fingers clawing into the bed. I wanted to yell enough, my lips pressing together to prevent the word from screaming out of my mouth. He could be mine in all ways but this, our souls always seeming to entwine into one but this was a connection our bodies could never achieve. I wouldn’t demand his celibacy, show him another weakness when he’d already accepted all the rest. When my trance broke I found him watching me, sending a flash of heat through my skin.
Mistress Marjorie’s moans broke the air between us, her head buried in her hands as her body convulsed. She tightened over him, her muscles grasping and releasing him as the orgasm claimed her. He continued to thrust until she weakened, her body jerking as he slipped out of it.
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