by Grant, Livia
“Say it,” he pressed. “Say that Baby doesn’t mean anything.”
Tori’s lip quivered and he hated himself a little for just how much the sight made his balls pull tight.
Reaching over the side of the chair, he picked up the little silver bullet vibe and held it up between two fingers. “Honest girls are good girls, and good girls get a reward.”
“Ba—” Tori bit down on the name she’d chosen, the first of her lies to herself, and he reveled in the way the muscle of her jaw twitched before her lips parted again. Her eyes were on the little vibe, and not his, but he let it go just to hear her say, “Baby doesn’t mean anything.”
“Why?” he asked, pushing her harder as he twisted the little bullet on and let it buzz in his fingers.
“Because I told them to use it,” she whispered, eyes drifting closed for a second, and he waited for tears to spill, but they didn’t come.
Disappointing.
“Eyes,” he reminded her, and those brown orbs were back on his, burning into him with unshed tears. “You know what I think?”
“No, sir,” she answered, shaking her head slightly as her gaze drifted to the little silver bullet that promised her escape from the discomfort of reality.
“I think you chose to be a little because it was easier. Because it didn’t push your boundaries or test your limits.” Reaching forward, Pierce traced his empty hand over her hip, gliding it down as a little shiver ran through her muscles. “I think you—”
“Didn’t I earn a reward, sir?” Tori interrupted him, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he used his hold on her hip to spin her, leaving the little bullet vibe buzzing against his thigh to deliver a hard spank to her ass. She let out a sweet cry, her grip on her wrist releasing, but he admired the shape of his handprint as it bloomed on her skin before turning her back to face him.
“Hands behind your back again, and do not be disrespectful.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her breaths coming a little faster, and his eyes drifted over the hardening peaks of her nipples.
She likes the punishment, that’s real.
“Are you a dirty girl, Tori?” he asked, squeezing her hip in a firm grip. “Have you ever been treated like a filthy little slut, or have you only let people call you Baby?”
Her brows pulled together, a flicker of something on her face that he actually couldn’t figure out when she replied with, “I’ve only let people call me Baby, sir.”
Hmm…
Lifting the marker, he carefully wrote the words ‘DIRTY GIRL’ on her right thigh. “Do you know what dirty girls get, Tori?”
“No, sir,” she replied, her eyes glued to the stark contrast of the black marker on her pale skin.
“Exactly what they deserve.” Sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh brought him the response he wanted, Tori shifted her legs farther apart, giving him room to trace a finger through the warm flesh between her thighs. Not quite wet yet. Still, she gasped, her shoulders pulling back, and he let the tip of his finger brush her clit, which brought the sweetest tremor through her muscles. When he slid another finger through her folds, purposefully avoiding her clit, she tilted her hips, trying to grind against them, but he wouldn’t give her the pressure.
Not yet.
“Everyone here can see what a dirty girl you are, Tori.”
“Sir…” she whined, eyes closed, face aimed at the ceiling as he brushed the lightest touch across her clit.
“Do you like that? Having everyone know what a dirty girl you are? A filthy little slut, hungry for someone to touch her?” Pierce felt his breath catch, waiting for her to give him that look. The one that so many women like Neva Hawthorn had. The one that said, ‘I’m only tolerating this because you’re attractive and rich.’ But Tori didn’t even look at him, instead she let out the softest sound toward the ceiling, so close to a moan that he felt it like a buzz over his balls.
And the next stroke through her folds was slick.
No way.
“Are you a filthy little whore, Tori?” he asked, giving her just enough pressure so that she could grind against his hand, and she did. Hips working as he pressed against her clit, spreading her juices over his fingers. “Do you want someone to use you like the slut you are?”
“Oh God,” she breathed, the words almost lost if he hadn’t been so utterly focused on every shift of her body, every sinful grind of her soaked cunt against his palm.
“Turn around,” he snapped, pulling his hand away as she obeyed. Reaching across his lap, he grabbed the still buzzing vibe with his left hand and then, before he could second-guess himself, he slid one of his wet fingers between his lips. She tasted so damn good, feminine, tangy and sweet, but she’d have to earn his mouth between her thighs.
Her hips swayed from side to side, her feet planted wide enough apart that he could see the puffy lips between her thighs, her cunt desperate for attention.
“Tell me what you really are,” he growled, low and soft as he brought the buzzing vibe between her thighs, barely brushing her with it as she whined. “Tell me.”
Chapter 5
Tori
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Every nerve ending in her body was tingling, and the teasing buzz of the vibe so precariously close to her clit was scrambling her brain. What did he want from her? What did she have to do for him to stop torturing her with things she didn’t want to think about?
“Please, sir,” she begged the ceiling above her, holding onto her wrist hard to keep her hands behind her back. One of his fingers teased past the vibrator, tracing around her clit as she fought the urge to bend her knees just for a stronger brush of the silver vibe. But if she caved, if she did that, she knew he’d take it away.
“You’re not a Baby, are you, Tori?” he asked, and her body went taut as he slipped the silver bullet between her lips, directly on her clit, and everything went tense with brilliant pleasure until he pulled it back again and she whimpered. “You’re not a little girl, a babygirl, or a sweet little princess… are you?”
Goddammit.
With anyone else she would have defended it, would have begged to have her pigtails back — but with Pierce she didn’t feel like that girl. She’d said tonight was about something new, and this was new and scary and somehow an incredible fucking turn-on.
“Answer me, Tori,” he commanded, a fierce spank on the other side of her ass forcing her hips forward for a moment as the burn of it turned into a humming sting that joined the buzz of need between her thighs.
Words wouldn’t work, her mouth wouldn’t move. She’d been Baby since she’d met her first Daddy Dom. So many men who had called her Baby, so many she’d called Daddy, who had coddled her and comforted her, but none of it had felt remotely like this. That was a cool, placid pond, and Pierce was a stormy sea. He wasn’t here to please her, to be sweet. He’d let her drown in her lust, he’d keep her from coming for eternity, and she knew it. There would be no pouting her way into what she wanted, and she realized she didn’t even want to beg him to let her come, she wanted to earn it.
“Last chance, Tori. Are you a Baby? Are you some Daddy’s darling babygirl?” His finger dipped through her wet heat, teasing her clit with a feather-light touch, and she shook her head.
Not just a little. Her hair whipped from side to side as she dug her nails into her opposite wrist, holding her hands behind her back like he’d asked.
“That’s right,” he purred, and the vibe slid against her clit, almost buckling her knees as she whined past clenched teeth. Panting as his palm overlaid the little bullet, keeping it in place as the marker traced across her back. “Only a slut humps someone’s hand like this in front of an audience.”
She was pretty sure she had just felt the sweeping curve of a ‘U’ on her back as he wrote the word on her back that from any other man’s lips would have sounded like an insult. A disgusting catcall. But Pierce said it with reverence, overlaid with unspoken promises of ecstasy, and as the c
rippling pleasure built between her thighs, she couldn’t help the moans, the desperate pants as she rocked from heel to toe, craving more.
“Say it for me, Tori,” he growled, pressing the little vibe against her more firmly and she licked her lips as the edge called out to her.
“I am,” she whined.
“You’re what?”
“I’m a sl-slut. A dirty, dirty girl,” she said softly, and just behind the buzzing vibe, two fingers slid deep inside, and her knees shook as he started to move them in measured thrusts. Too much, too much.
“Louder, Tori. You’ve got an audience that wants to know what you are.” A hard thrust of his fingers, a third finger joining the others just before he curved them toward her g-spot and she cried out, dissolving into whimpers when he backed off again, taking the vibe away. “Now, Tori.”
People are watching. Listening.
Her face was on fire, her stomach in knots, but somehow she felt like Pierce was there for her. Or would be there if things went wrong. Hopefully.
“Now!” he commanded.
“I’m a dirty slut!” she shouted, desperate for more, for release, for whatever lay beyond this agonizing edging, and she kept her eyes shut tight so she didn’t have to see the faces around the platform. The people watching her body shudder, held taut on the edge with Pierce’s fingers buried inside her.
“Again.”
Biting down on her lip, she tried to ignore the buzz of voices, the sound of someone chuckling outside the platform. This time it wasn’t Pierce laughing, and when she whimpered, he brought the vibe back to her clit. It was fuel on the fire, spiraling the heat up her spine in a tight coil as his last command floated on the surface of her awareness. Again. “I’m a slut! I’m your dirty little slut! I want this, please! Sir!”
“You can come.” Pierce granted permission she hadn’t even been aware she was waiting for, but with those words the world flipped, light stroked down her spine and shattered in a bomb of ecstasy as she cried out.
* * *
Pierce
It was pure instinct when he caught her.
He hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t even been prepared, but as Tori came, her legs buckled, and he’d pulled the vibe away to catch her. Wrapping his arm around the front of her hips, bracing her against his shoulder. Her cunt squeezed the fingers he still had buried inside her, pulsing in spasms, her body trembling against his, and his dick was so hard it hurt.
She’d called herself his dirty little slut.
Jesus Christ.
Nothing about the little schoolgirl outfit had prepared him for this. He’d thought she’d start crying, that he’d break her down and then make her come until she forgot to complain about his head games — but Tori hadn’t broken at all. The truth had hurt, as it always did, but his penchant for name calling, for degradation… that had turned her on. She’d been wet before he’d even really touched her, before he’d rubbed her clit or used the vibe.
The tremors were starting to subside, and he felt her leaning into him, trusting him to hold her up, not to let her fall, and he took the responsibility on without question. Slowly, she slid down, his fingers slipping from her, but he never moved his arm from her front. Keeping her safe as he shifted back far enough in the chair that she was able to sit on the small bit of cushion between his thighs.
Tori, the babygirl who should have been terrified of him, was leaning back on his chest, her breathing still rushed, with her soft ass nestled directly against his rock-hard cock.
Fuck.
Looking down the front of her, he ran his hand across the swell of one breast, around the hardened peak of one nipple, moving to trace the marker on her stomach, and then he slid his fingers back between her thighs. She gasped, brown eyes open as she turned to look up at him from where her head rested on his shoulder, and then her gaze dropped to where he traced her slick cunt. The puffy lips, swollen from her arousal, and when he shoved two fingers inside, she arched against him with the sweetest little sound.
“Knees apart,” he whispered, meeting the gazes of several audience members who were watching, practically eye-level with her pussy as he touched her.
“Sir,” she whimpered, and his cock twitched against her ass, wanting her, but it was too early in the evening for that.
He was teasing her, listening to the sounds she made with each brush over her clit, watching the rise and fall of her breasts as he flicked off the vibe and set it aside to capture her nipple in his fingers. Tori gasped and — the lights went out.
The fuck?
Pierce tightened his arm around her waist, listening to the drone of voices rising around him, and he felt her lean into him as dull emergency lights kicked on around the club.
In the half-light, he felt Tori wrap her hand over his forearm, the one he’d used to catch her, the one that had instinctively pulled her closer when the dark hit, and for some reason feeling her cling to him didn’t bother him like he thought it would.
“I got you,” he whispered, and immediately clenched his teeth tight.
Where the fuck did that come from?
That wasn’t him. He wasn’t the kind of dom that comforted his submissive — at least, not until after he was finished torturing them, and he was just getting started with her.
As quickly as the lights had turned off, they came back on, and he almost forced her to the floor in front of him. His cock liked the idea, and visions of her soft, pink lips wrapped around his shaft made him groan internally, but… he couldn’t make himself do it. Tori was still tucked against his chest, her small hand squeezing his forearm lightly where he still had it banded around her waist.
She was holding onto him like a life raft, which he wasn’t, at all, but he wasn’t letting go of her either.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“That was weird,” she said softly, and it broke him out of the haze of whirling thoughts in his head.
“Yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat quietly as he pried his arm away from her waist. He shouldn’t be holding her like some lover, like a Daddy comforting his little, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her completely.
Tori was still breathing fast, likely a combination of the orgasm and the dark, and it did wonderful things to her body. Her breasts rose and fell, she shifted constantly, occasional shivers rushing through her muscles as he traced a hand over her curves. The other cupped her breast, pinching her nipple lightly, and the sweet sigh that escaped her lips as she dropped her head back on his shoulder was pure sin.
He couldn’t resist dipping the fingers of his other hand between her thighs. Soaking wet, slick and warm, and each movement pulled more delicious sounds from her.
Pierce wanted to fuck her throat, needed to feel her wrapped around his cock somehow, and sooner rather than later — but not yet. No. He wanted to peel a few more layers of his sub away before he let her taste him.
What to do?
Orgasm torture wasn’t out of the question, and he still had the little vibe to put to good use. Her hips were lifting to every lazy stroke of his fingers between her soaked thighs, soft, breathy sighs humming out of her chest, but he was just keeping her focus on his touch while the audience got an eyeful. And she had quite the gathering at the edge of the platform.
More than he’d expected, actually.
Some unfamiliar part of his brain wanted to move, to go to one of the fantasy rooms where they’d have more privacy, where she’d be exposed for him and only him… but now wasn’t the time to discover some previously undiscovered possessive tendencies. The audience would be voting on their favorite couple and exposing her was drawing a decent crowd. It didn’t matter what strange thoughts were running through his head, this was meant to be humiliation, wasn’t it?
Snap out of it, Pierce. She’s not your type. You’re not hers.
She’s only putting up with this because of Roulette.
Get your head in the game.
“Open your eyes, slut,” he whispere
d directly into her ear, nipping the round of it through her hair, and he felt the jerk of her muscles when she saw the audience. Her knees twitched inward, but he pulled his fingers free to jerk one leg wide again, draping it over his. “Don’t make me hold you open, dirty girl.”
“But, sir…” Her voice trailed into silence as he glided his fingers back up her inner thigh, and this time he gave her three fingers, listening to the throaty moan buzzing in her chest as she took them in.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, but it was mostly rhetorical. Her hips were rolling, seeking, hungry for more and he wondered what it would feel like to bury his dick between those thighs, to say the words he wanted to right against her ear and feel her come underneath him.
Not yet. Maybe she’ll be able to handle it later, but not yet.
“Oh, fuck,” Tori whined, pressing back against his chest, completely exposed to the audience, and he pushed back his own urges so he could dig the marker out of the cushion beside him while he let her fuck his fingers.
“You’re so wet,” he growled against her neck, nudging her hair out of the way with his nose so he could bite down on her shoulder as he drove his fingers deeper.
She let out the prettiest whine, an unspoken plea for more or less, he didn’t really care — he knew what she needed.
He pulled his fingers free and teased her entrance with the buzzing bullet vibe for a minute, waiting for her sounds to turn desperate before he pressed it inside, catching her hip when she arched hard, moaning through gritted teeth.
“Spell wet for me, little whore.”
Planting the marker just above her cunt, he stroked her clit gently, waiting until she whimpered out a breathy, “W.”
He drew it, poorly, upside-down, but it was clear enough. The kiss he pressed to her shoulder wasn’t planned, it was an accident, a weird instinctual thing that he turned into a nip as he urged her to continue. “What’s next?”
“Sir, pleaaaase!” Tori was trying to grind against his hand, but he wasn’t giving her any of the friction she wanted. A second later, she let out a frustrated little scream. “Jesus, it’s E!”