by T. Evans
Dirty Domination
The Accidental Billionaire
Part 2
by
T. Evans
© 2019 Ted Evans
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
About Dirty Domination…
Enter the dark, twisted world of Kenneth Marshall's dirty domination.
She took up my offer to spend one weekend with me and in return I'll enjoy playing with my new toy.
I'll make her serve my every dirty desire.
Procure to my every need.
I'll own her pleasure and make her come in more ways than her heart desires.
I'll make her fear and submit to me.
She wants to be punished, once I have her to myself she'll realize that she should have been careful about what she wished for...
Author's Note:
This is part two of a dark romance with plenty of BDSM. Be sure that you are ready to enter the dark world of Kenneth Marshall!
Chapter One
Anita stood motionless in the middle of The Playground. Sir had taken her shoes off, and she already had the blackout mask on her face. Fortunately, Sir had not put that very strange and unpleasant looking spider gag in her mouth yet. He was busy wrapping lengths of rope around her legs.
“The most important thing to remember about the way I’m tying you right now is to be aware of your body. The bindings I’m using are designed to be unpleasant. They will restrict blood flow with the intention of causing you discomfort and pain.”
Anita had to wonder if he was binding her the way he said he was. He already had her lower legs wrapped and while the rope was constricting, and there were knots over her shin bones, it was only a mild annoyance.
“You need to pay attention to the pain that restriction will cause, and call ‘Warning’ before it becomes unbearable. Because once I release the bindings, blood is going to rush freely into those parts where it had been restricted, and the pain will increase markedly. This is one place where I need to be sure you are listening to me, Miss Rhodes. I want you to warn me when the pain starts to noticeably increase. Do not try and tough it out. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir,” Anita said.
Sir started wrapping rope around her thighs – it felt like one hank per leg, and then brought their free ends together to form a belt around her hips. The final piece of rope went around her wrists in the form of a thick pair of cuffs. She heard something that sounded like him bringing a stool up in front of her, and she felt her hands lifted high above her head.
That’s when she remembered seeing the eye bolt with its swivel mounted to the ceiling.
“Very good, Miss Rhodes. Open your mouth for me.”
As she did so, Anita caught a brief whiff of metal and leather.
“Wider,” Sir said.
Anita did her best, and she felt the pressure of something being pushed into her mouth. Her tongue and gums were still very numb from the toothpaste he’d had her use, but she could feel the ring against her teeth. The metal prongs kept her lips open wide.
Sir did something that released the tension on the wrist cuffs. “Kneel tall, Miss Rhodes,” he said. As she bent her legs to lower herself down, she immediately realized that he knew exactly what he’d been doing with the rope on her legs. The act of kneeling flexed her calf muscles, and tightened up the ropes on her lower legs. That’s when the lines and knots over her shin bones started to positively bite. With the gag in her mouth, she couldn’t grit her teeth against it. She could do nothing, really, but put her knees on the floor without fighting and without complaint or pause.
Besides, the harsh sensation of the rope cutting into her shins made her feel so much more alive than just kneeling or playing furniture had. Anita decided she had a very strong preference for enduring pain than having to just hold still. She wondered if it was her duty to inform Sir of this, so he could tailor future punishments for maximum effect, or if she should make him figure that out on his own.
Her knees got to the floor, and Anita took as steadying a breath as she could with the gag in her mouth and her arms still up above her head. She felt Sir do something with the rope around her wrists. The line got tighter until her knees were lifted an inch off the floor. This increased the tightness of the wrist cuffs, and put a strain on her shoulders, but anything she did with her legs to try and relieve that pressure tightened the rope around her calves considerably.
“Fortunately for you,” Sir said, “I utterly adore what I’m about to do to you. A lot. It’s going to be very unpleasant, but won’t last terribly long. Do remember, though, that if the pain starts to rapidly increase, signal me. Three of anything in quick succession, since you won’t be able to speak.”
All Anita could do to acknowledge him was nod her head. She’d barely started when she felt him shove his stiff penis right through the metal ring in her mouth. She wasn’t able to feel much of him against her tongue or the insides of her cheeks, but by the way her head moved in response to his motions. He was clearly going at her with some vigor. There were times when she felt herself involuntarily gag as he thrust deep, but most of her attention was focused on her wrists, shoulders, and calves. Since the gag and the numbness kept her from being an active participant to him essentially fucking her mouth, she concentrated instead on trying to find ways to minimize the pain the rope was causing her. The calf binding was by far the worst of it, and when she could relax her shoulders enough, she was able to get her knees to brush the floor and take some of the flex out of her calves. There were times when she really wanted to surrender herself to that subspace she’d discovered under his previous attentions, but she remembered he had strictly forbidden that.
The lure to go there to escape the pain was powerful, though. She tried to concentrate on the quality of the pain, remembering his warning about restricted blood flow and how much worse it would be after the ropes were loosened. The bulk of the torture wasn’t in the tightness of the bindings around her wrists or ankles, but specifically in the way the rope ground against her shins. It was the concentrated digging at the bones that was really challenging her. She started counting Sir’s thrusts into her mouth, checking in with each ten thrusts to see if it was time to signal him that she’d reached her limit with the rope.
When she started counting, she started paying attention to the sounds he was making. So far, she’d learned to appreciate the fact that Sir was not silent about sex. Most men Anita had been with had been very quiet, even when really giving it to her. Sir did nothing to hide the pleasure he was taking from her. And it wasn’t any sort of silly porn talk, either. It was the moaning and groaning, grunting, the audible breathing, but very rarely words. She could hear that he was getting very close when she did another mental inventory of her wrists and feet. They were starting to protest rather loudly, but he was so very close.
If only she was allowed to go into subspace, she would have gladly surrendered to it, hoping she’d ride out the promised second wave of pain after unbinding. That wasn’t an option, though. She had to choose whether to let him go a little longer so he could finish, or interrupt him and have him unbind her before he could complete h
er punishment.
She gave herself one more ten count, but he finished before she hit five. As soon as she heard and felt his orgasm, she immediately tried to snap her fingers, but her hands were too numb. They were bound too tightly together for her to clap, and with him still filling her mouth, she wasn’t able to really grunt.
Shaking her head was out, with him inside that gag in her mouth. She worried she might damage him. She thought about her hands again, since they were closest to her face, noticed the tension in the rope attached to the hook in the ceiling. She lifted herself up by her wrists once, twice, three times.
As soon as she release the third time, the overhead rope went slack, and Sir was out of her mouth, lowering her to the floor, laying her gently on her side. He unbuckled the gag, and said, “What should I untie first?”
“Wrists, Sir.”
“Are you distressed, or are you at your limit?” he asked, as he started to work on the cuffs. It took him surprisingly little time to break the tension. As he had warned her, the intensity of the sensation in her hands very rapidly went up quite a bit. At least she hadn’t waited until they were really hurting before she gave the signal, so while the return of the blood flow hurt, it was still manageable. Still not as bad as what her shins were still going through, she had to admit to herself.
“At my limit, Sir, not past it.”
“Good,” he said, moving down her body to work at the rope around her lower legs.
As he relieved the tension on her shins, a new variety of pain, something thrumming from inside of her skin in time with her heartbeat, introduced itself to her. She groaned as it burned through her legs. Straightening out and flexing her knees and ankles kept it at a level where she could bear it, though. Once she found a bit of relief on that count, she was finally able to think about other parts of her body. The shoulders were still sore, but not bad. She was starting to get feeling back in her mouth. Like her shoulders, her jaw was feeling the strain of being forced into position and held there, but it was more of a lingering discomfort than anything that really hurt. It was only as she worked her mouth to ease it a bit that she realized how badly she’d drooled all over the place. Her face, neck, and chest were all wet.
Sir undid the last knot of the lower leg rope, and Anita let out a very long and loud sigh of relief.
As he started on the ropes around her waist and thighs, he asked, “Have I adequately demonstrated my ability to punish, Miss Rhodes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you going to do your best to avoid a repeat demonstration this weekend?”
“I will, Sir.”
“I don’t know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing. I did really enjoy using your filthy, unmannered mouth that way.”
“We agreed to obedience and compliance this weekend, Sir. Would I best serve you by keeping to that agreement?”
Sir rolled Anita onto her back and handed her a towel.
“Are you asking in a roundabout way whether I’d like you to be a bit bratty this weekend, Miss Rhodes?”
“I am asking how I may best please you, Sir,” Anita said, drying herself off.
“Then do your best to remain within the bounds of our original agreement.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“We need to discuss your duties after play, Miss Rhodes. Now that we are well into our day, it is time for you to learn your responsibilities. You will need to put the space back in order after I am finished with you. Anything that needs to be cleaned will be set aside for that. Anything that doesn’t needs to be returned to its place. Do you remember how the ropes were wrapped when you took them from the drawer?”
“I do, Sir, but I do not know how to wrap them that way.”
He handed her one piece of rope and had her mimic him as he neatly folded the rope and wrapped it into a tight bundle. He supervised her as she wrapped the other two bundles, giving her a few pointers on how to keep everything tidy and even. When she was finished, he unwrapped all four bundles and told her to present them to him when she was satisfied they were all up to his standard. Anita watched him walk out to the living room, with a rather self-satisfied and cocky stride.
Anita sat in the middle of The Playground floor, carefully binding up the lengths of rope. Her hands and feet still throbbed lightly as the circulation returned, and any movement of her legs reminded her sharply of the cruel knots he’d laid across her shins. She had to keep working at the stiffness in her jaw from the gag, which was still sitting on the floor next to her.
She decided that she did not like that spider gag, not at all. Of course, that was probably the point. She had dared to direct foul language at Sir. He was fully within his rights to punish her as he saw fit. And if it was her mouth that was the problem, it was rather logical for him to focus his correction there. The soreness in her jaw, and at the back of her throat from having him take charge and use her mouth twice in a day was a constant reminder to her that she had chosen to submit to him, to make herself his personal plaything and toy for the weekend.
As she unbound a length of rope because the wrap was loose, she wondered if she wasn’t in over her head. There wasn’t much of her body that wasn’t tender, and it was still only early evening on Friday afternoon. So far, Sir had inflicted some pain or discomfort on her hair, mouth and throat, back, wrists and shoulders, the side of her ribs, and her ass. There wasn’t much left of her that he hadn’t penetrated, bound, dug his fingers into, or whipped.
And yet, Anita found herself not wanting to leave. She remembered their early dinner, with the key to the apartment door still sitting in the middle of the table. Her key to freedom from Sir’s domination and control. As she tried again at wrapping a length of rope, she examined her thoughts and concluded that he had been truthful when he told her that at any time, she was free to simply call “Danger,” dress, and leave with no consequence. It was the firmness of his discipline that convinced her of that. He had warned her before she came into the apartment that he was going to punish her and push her limits, and he had.
When she’d sworn at him, he told her that breach of her conduct was going to be addressed, and he had. When she’d failed to hold off her orgasm the first time he had given her the color countdown, he’d immediately dealt with it. When he had her hanging from the ceiling, her mouth full of his cock, and she’d signaled a warning by just yanking the ropes three times, he had her on the floor way faster than she expected, was unbinding her, and was clearly checking her status immediately. There was no reproach in his voice when she’d signaled her limit. He did not show any disappointment that she hadn’t held out longer for him.
Sir was clearly a man of his word. He had a reputation for that in the business world, and he was demonstrating it to her in a very personal way inside the apartment. He had promised her pain, and he’d delivered. He had also promised to respect her, and he had.
Besides, there was the kindness he showed her as well whenever she fell deep into subspace and came back. The fruit and sweet water, the soft blanket, holding her close to him with his strong body. For him to use relentless pain and pleasure mixed to push her until she passed out or tranced out, or whatever it was that had her go away for a while, and then be there caring for and protecting her… She had never before imagined that somebody could so easily be both so cruel and so compassionate like that.
It reminded her again of something the little voice inside of her had said. Sir’s cage keeps her in, but it also keeps everything else out. It both restrains and protects her.
Through all of that thinking, she managed to get the ropes wrapped nicely. All she had to do was stop obsessing over what her hands were doing, and just let them do their work, apparently. She picked up the ropes, the evil little spider gag, and the blackout mask, and took them into the living room where Sir was in his chair again, a glass of water in his hand.
She walked up to him, went down to her knees to kiss the tops of his feet, and offered the ropes for his inspection. He
looked at each hank, running his fingers along the wrapping, checking that the folded ends were consistent. “Very nice, Miss Rhodes,” he said. “But why did you bring the gag and mask to me?”
“To ask if there is any cleaning or special care required before I return them to their places, Sir.”
She watched him as he tilted his head a little to the side and considered her question.
“I appreciate your initiative, Miss Rhodes. But if you had needed to do anything to them before putting them away, I would have told you.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“The ropes are acceptable. Put them up. Put your heels and your bra back on, and then come kneel down at my left side.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When Anita got back to the living room and had settled in beside Sir’s chair, he rested his hand on her shoulder, stroking her skin gently.
“I want to check in so I know how best to chart the course for the remainder of the weekend. It will be best for both of us for you to speak freely and honestly. There are no incorrect answers, except for untruthful ones. ‘I don’t know’ is also acceptable. Understood?”
“I understand, Sir.”
“What do you think of what we just did, Miss Rhodes?”
“It was extremely unpleasant, Sir, but I also understand it was supposed to be. You had adequately set the expectation that I would not enjoy it, and I did not.”
“I had ’adequately set the expectation,’ Miss Rhodes?” He laughed, then his voice became stern. “If you ever use corporate speak like that with me in this space again, I’m going to put the spider gag back in your mouth, and I’m going to fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to eat, drink, or speak for two days.”
“Of course, Sir.” Anita swallowed painfully at the thought of that.
“But what exactly was unpleasant about it?”
Anita took a moment to try to assemble her thoughts as best she could. “I would welcome the physical pain again. I had earned it. I knew I had to take it. I somewhat find myself enjoying the struggle to endure your punishments, Sir.”