Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

  “No, no! Oh no, please…”

  “Slave girls don’t say no.”

  I groaned as his fingers pressed deeper. He withdrew them and pushed me down, letting out the leash. He tore off his toga and stood before me in all his glory, a Greek god. He gave me just a moment to look before he shoved me to my knees. “Suck me. Use lots of spit, girl. It’s the only lube you’re going to get when I ram it into your ass.”

  I opened my mouth to accept him. I sucked him and caressed him with my tongue. I worshipped. I lapped at the bulging head of his cock and then took him deep in my throat. I salivated on his huge tool so it could more easily rend my asshole. I could have worshipped him that way for hours, in thanks for his party. For the leash and collar I wore. For fulfilling my fantasies. But a moment later, he jerked the leash and pulled me back from him. He stood me up and bent me over.

  I gasped, struggling for breath. He held my hips in his hands and trapped the dangling end of the leash under his foot.

  “Oh please! Have mercy.” I didn’t know if I was playing the slave girl anymore or if it was actually me crying out for release. He drew the copious moisture from my pussy and rubbed it up over my nether hole. He pressed the head of his cock against me and, with a grunt, popped the head inside.

  The pain was terrible and wonderful. He stopped, let me adjust. I moved my hips back toward him. With a groan he drove forward, then back. He began to fuck me, quick, bucking strokes that made me totter on my feet. My arousal was already at a fever pitch, my pelvis ached with the weight of my excitement. I squeaked and moaned as his hands grasped at my hips. Soon I began to pant.

  “Master, Master!”

  He reached down for the leash, yanked me upward. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and squeezed me back against him. My hands were crushed against his abs. I could feel his trail tickling against my ass cheeks. I scratched at the hard muscle I discovered beneath my fingertips. He growled and wrapped a fist in my hair, and shook me hard. He put a finger through the ring in my collar and held me, while the other hand reached around to grasp a straining nipple and twist it. Frantic sounds rose up in my throat.

  “Come for me. Come now, right now, slave girl.”

  A shock of release rolled over me. I convulsed as pleasure emanated out from where he was buried in my ass. It traveled to my tits, to the swollen clit at my center and even up to the collar chafing my neck. He held me with a hand splayed over my throat as I yowled and jerked against him. His cock convulsed in my ass.

  “Master!” I turned and gasped into the hollow of his shoulder. I felt the collar press against my flesh, solid and real. I felt the leash dangling down between my outthrust breasts as my chest heaved up and down. The leash ended in his fist—inexorable control over me.

  *

  Later we lay exhausted and fucked-out in bed. I told Jeremy a few of the racier Greek myths I knew.

  “That’s the best mythology, isn’t it?” he asked. “That’s why I made your party Greek. Not just so I could make you a slave girl in a toga and fuck your ass.”

  I snorted. “Yeah. You can do that anytime.”

  “I think from now on I’ll do it at least once a week.” He had put the collar and leash away with all the other toys. I had a feeling I’d be seeing them again.

  We laughed together. It felt so easy and comfortable with him sometimes. He could be so amazing, so creative.

  “Jeremy, thank you. It was fun tonight. It was a wonderful birthday. One of the best ever, really.”

  “You deserve it. It was my pleasure to give it to you.”

  I looked into his eyes. I hated to ruin the atmosphere we’d created, but there was something I had to know. “Jessamine said something weird to me tonight.”

  His gaze shifted away. “Yeah, well, she’s weird, so that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “She said you were worried about a stalker.”

  He shrugged. “I have a lot of stalkers.”

  I thought about him, Martin, and Kyle hunched over the laptop, and the way he wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone. “Do I have a stalker, Jeremy?”

  “No,” he said quickly, but the look on his face gave him away. I watched him, wanting to know more but afraid at the same time. “I mean, there’s some weirdo…” He waved his hand. “Doing some weird stuff, but nothing you should worry about.”

  “What kind of weird stuff?”

  “It’s just a jealous fan, some woman. Doing stupid shit. Just… Nell…please—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? This is what you were fighting with Martin about last week. Isn’t it?” It all made sense now, his anger, his frustration. The way he’d pulled away from me and punished me for asking too many questions. This was the source of the anxiety that I couldn’t place.

  He sighed. “Yes. Okay. There’s a stalker. And I’m taking care of it.”

  “Taking care of what? What is she doing?”

  “Oh, some web sites she has—”

  “Some web sites? Plural?” My eyes widened in alarm. There were stalkers, and then there were stalkers. “Am I in danger?”

  “Just calm down. If I thought you were in danger, I’d—”

  “Never let me go out alone? Keep secrets from me?”

  He brushed my hair back from my face and kissed my forehead.

  “Don’t fret about it. I just didn’t want to worry you about something that was out of your control. And listen, that’s just what happens when you’re in the public eye. I wish Jess had kept her mouth shut. You’re worried about something that’s not worth worrying about, believe me.”

  “She said you were alarmed.”

  “Well, she’s an actress. She lies and tells stories. She exaggerates.” He couldn’t look at me. I could tell just from his body language that Jessamine didn’t lie. “Anyway, I just wanted to protect you from worrying about it. And…”

  “And what?”

  He was quiet a moment. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to leave me. I don’t. I don’t want you to leave.”

  He looked so lost, so terrified for a moment, it took my breath away. All this time I’d been the one afraid of being sent away. Silly. We belonged together. Didn’t we? For now anyway. Stalker or no, I didn’t want to live without him. I looked into his eyes. “I won’t leave you.”

  His gaze left me. He looked over my shoulder and pursed his lips. “They always leave, and you will too.” He looked back at me as if he dared me to disagree. “I mean, you should. This isn’t a good life for anybody. But don’t leave me yet.” He pulled me close and twisted his fingers in my hair. “I don’t want you to go yet.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Good Friends

  ‡

  Jesus, I was going to kill Jess next time I saw her.

  For over a month I’d been hiding the secret from Nell, only to have Jessamine blab it out in the open at the girl’s own birthday party.

  Happy Birthday, Nell. Someone wants to kill you.

  For fuck’s sake, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

  I looked down at Nell fast asleep in my arms. For now I thought I’d smoothed things over, but if she asked to see the web sites, if she wanted more information…

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  It had started innocuously enough, a web site with a fake blog that painted Nell in a decidedly unflattering light. Martin had it taken down fairly quickly, and in truth it had been almost funny with its petty, jealousy-fueled rants.

  But another site was fast on its heels, this one not so innocuous as the last. Again we were successful in shutting it down, but another two or three popped up in its place. They were all hosted and maintained by the same person, a woman by the name of Leslie Gray, who was absolutely no relation, although to my horror, I’d recently discovered she believed she was my wife.

  I’d done a lot of stupid things when I was drunk and horny, but getting married was something I’d definitely never done. The more Martin learned about Leslie Gray with
the help of a private investigator, the less soundly I was able to sleep. The defamatory and vindictive web sites were one thing, but the correspondence we intercepted was another thing altogether. The scrawled notes were pages-long ravings about what happened to whoring home wreckers. The crazy woman outlined scenarios of how to knock Nell off with the most pain and least chance of being discovered. Was Leslie Gray a danger to Nell? She absolutely was.

  But I also believed there was no safer place for Nell than with me, for now anyway. While Martin and the police wrangled with the restraining orders, cease-and-desist writs, and other legalities, Nell was relatively sheltered halfway around the world, living in high-security hotels and accompanying me to closed sets. I would have sent her away if it would have been safer for her, but my spotlight was the safest place for her to be.

  And she trusted me for some reason. I won’t leave you. I looked down and watched her breathe in and out, my pervy sex girl, so innocent and hapless in sleep. What on earth did I give her to make her trust me, to offer me the loyalty she did? I wanted to kiss her, lick her, wake her up and make love to her.

  Make love to her? Fuck her, anyway.

  God, I just really, really didn’t want her to leave.

  *

  The next day I left Nell at the hotel and jumped on Jess the moment I saw her on the set.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  “I’m sorry, Jeremy,” Jess said. “But I can’t believe she didn’t know! I can’t believe you didn’t tell her. I really think that’s wrong.”

  “She doesn’t need to know. I’m taking care of it. By the time we get back to the States, this woman will probably have gotten over Nell and moved on.”

  “I don’t know, she sounds like a pretty deep wack job to me. I don’t know that she’s just going to get over you and the fact that she wants to kill your girlfriend. Not in the next couple of months anyway.”

  “I can take care of it. I can keep Nell safe.”

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t take a chance.”

  “Well, what do you suggest I do? Send her back to the States? Let her fend for herself?”

  “Break up with her! If you cared at all about her safety, that’s what you’d do, as quickly and as publicly as possible. You know how to engineer these things. Tip off the paps, sell them some nice ‘fight’ pics, and put her on the next plane home!”

  “I’m not breaking up with her!”

  Jess narrowed her eyes. “I thought so.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ.” I threw up my arms and stalked away, but Jess was at my side like some nagging, unwanted pet.

  “If you love her—”

  “I don’t love her.”

  “If you like her that much, you have to send her away. Pretend. Let her go to ground and hide, and then you can go back and pick her up sometime down the line, when this fan has moved on to another target.”

  I stopped and spun on her. “I’m her target, Jess! I’m not going to live alone for the rest of my life so I don’t piss off one jealous, unbalanced fan.”

  “And what about Nell?” she shot back.

  “I told Nell about everything, thanks to you, and she still wants to stay.”

  Jess looked at me suspiciously. “You told her everything?”

  “Everything she needed to know. Anyway, why do you care? Why are you so obsessed with the safety of my little toy?”

  “She’s not a toy. She’s a person.”

  “Yes, you should remember that yourself.”

  Jess rolled her eyes at me and retreated. By this time in our friendship, we could say a lot to each other between the lines.

  “You’re the one who needs to remember,” she called out over her shoulder before slamming her trailer door.

  *

  Nell didn’t bring up the stalker issue again, and we left for Bulgaria shortly afterward. I was so busy during the week we were there that I barely saw Nell, and neither of us even bothered to unpack.

  We left Bulgaria for a remote and scenic area of Portugal, where we’d spend a month and a half. Instead of a hotel, I had Kyle rent a local property for us. Nell practically swooned when we arrived at the small, secluded villa surrounded by romantic gardens and lovely, rolling woods.

  “Jeremy, this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen!” She ran through the tall wildflowers to the trees. “Come look. There’s a lake in the woods!”

  “It’s November. Do you want to go swimming?”

  “No, but it’s—God, look! The view is beautiful! It’s just breathtaking!”

  Yes, it is, I thought to myself.

  If I’d brought my last girlfriend here, the pouts and complaints would have killed me. I took a deep breath of the crisp fall air and then went to help Kyle bring in the bags. Let her run around and play, I thought to myself. Tonight I would play with her.

  It had been far too long since we’d really played hard together. The Bulgarian shoot had been mercifully short but one hundred percent wretched. We hadn’t had any time to do bondage or punishment scenes, just hurried quickies and blowjobs when I wasn’t too tired. But not tonight. Tonight I was going to spend time. I was going to play with my lovely toy.

  Kyle cooked dinner for us, and I was reminded again why I paid him such an obscene salary. We ate the fresh chicken and potatoes with a huge appetite, even Nell, who normally ate next to nothing.

  “That was really great, Kyle.” She sighed when she finished. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” He smiled in return.

  I dropped my fork and stared at them. “My God, the world is ending. Kyle and Nell just exchanged a couple of civil words.” I made a big show of rushing to the window to look out at the darkening sky.

  “He’s looking for pigs,” I heard Kyle whisper.

  Nell and Kyle laughed together, and it was great to see them getting along, although I figured it was a momentary truce. We were all in a great mood. New villa, beautiful surroundings, and the knowledge that we had a good, long time to feel at home.

  “You,” I said, pointing to Nell with a satisfied grin. “Go in the bedroom and put on something really, really hot.”

  *

  I stood her against the wall for a long time. She’d put on the ivory corset she wore the first night she and I had played. I had her take her shoes off, because I liked when she looked shorter, more innocent. Her wispy auburn curls were a mess as usual, just the way I liked them. She stood still, patiently…submissively. She could be so normal and then turn the submissive on and do it better and more skillfully than any sub I’d ever known. Her lovely little nipples were clamped. I used the gentler ones so I could leave them on a long time. Every time she shifted, the delicate silver chain swung between them.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  She looked up at me shyly from beneath her lashes. “Wet. Horny.” She was silent a moment. “Treasured. The way you look at me…”

  So it was that obvious. I took up the thin leather lace beside me and turned her to tie her hands behind her back.

  “Do you know why I treasure you?” I asked beside her ear.

  “No, Jeremy, I don’t know.”

  “Because you’re the only one who gives me exactly what I need. You’re the only one who ever has.” I turned her face to mine to give her a long, lingering kiss. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered against her lips.

  “I’ve missed you too.” Her voice shook a little. She was so emotional, this one.

  “I’ve been too busy to just take time to tie you up like this. To look at you, and make you do things. I hate being busy like that, too busy to play with you.”

  Her eyes closed, and she let her body melt against me. “I’m yours.”

  “I know you are.” I kissed and licked her eyelids and trailed my fingers down over her hips. “I love the shape of you, and I love how you smell.”

  She shivered against me.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No, Jeremy.”

  “Just horny? I don’t
want to have sex with you. I just want to tie you up.”

  Her squeak of dismay made me laugh.

  “Down. Kneel down.”

  She knelt on the floor and looked up at me with wide eyes.

  “Down, Nell. You know what I mean. Be a good girl.” She leaned forward, balancing carefully with her hands tied behind her back. I nudged at her thighs to spread her wider. I knelt next to her, stroking the perfect arch of her smooth back and thrusting two fingers up her wet, hot slit.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Vulnerable. Desperate.”

  “How desperate? What will you do for me to make you come? How far will you go?”

  “I’m yours, Jeremy.”

  “I want to use a cane on you.”

  She tensed. I didn’t move my fingers.

  “Do you trust me? Do you trust me not to hurt you?”

  “You will hurt me.”

  “I hurt you all the time,” I said. “Now I want to hurt you this way, and I want you to let me because you trust me.”

  She was quiet. I let her think it over. It was something I’d wanted to do for a long time, not because I wanted to hurt her, but because she’d told me she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. I wanted her to, for me.

  “How many?”

  “Ten. No more.”

  “Just this once?”

  “I can’t promise I won’t ask again. But I do promise I won’t gag you, no matter how noisy you are.” No matter how much you scream, I had almost said. “We’re not in a hotel now. You can be a loud as you want, as loud as you need to be.”

  “I want to, but I’m scared.”

  I stroked her back. “I know. I know you are. But I want you to do it for me anyway. It’s your hard limit. You have to tell me it’s okay.”

  She was already crying. I don’t know why I was asking her for this. Because it was as far as she would go, I supposed, and I wanted to take her there.

  “Afterward, I promise I’ll make it all better.” I withdrew my fingers and smoothed them over her clit. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”