by Rebel Rose
I stretch a bit. “A massage will be wonderful. I’m super sore from that wild fuck yesterday.”
He smiles. “The wild fucks have only just begun, bebelle.”
“I’m bebelle again?”
“You’re always bebelle.”
I like being bebelle, but I also liked being Mrs. Broussard yesterday.
“Would you like to do another scene like that? Be Mrs. Broussard?”
“Only if it’s what you want.” Lie. I’m dying to do it again. I want to strip off his suit and do it right now.
“I would like to do it again.” He pushes his hand below the sheet and rubs my butt cheek. “I also have other things that I want to do to you.”
I sense something anal-related. “Like what?”
“Can’t tell you. Gotta show you.”
Maybe he isn’t referring to anal sex. He never hesitates to tell me that that’s what he wants.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Good. Hopefully my soreness should be worked out by tonight. “Look forward to it.”
He leans down, presses a closed-mouth kiss to my lips, and digs his fingers into the flesh on my ass. “Have a fun day.”
“I will.”
“I’ll text when I’m finished with my meetings, and we’ll have dinner together.”
“Do you want to choose my outfit now so I can be dressed and ready to go when you finish with your meetings?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Wear the royal blue dress. Hair down in loose curls. Nighttime makeup that will go well with the dress.”
“As you wish.”
He moves his hand from behind his back, and I see why he was keeping it out of my sight. “I’m going to use this on you tonight.”
Shit.
Strips of leather attached to a leather braided handle. All black. The thing screams pain. And ecstasy.
He drags the leather tails of the flogger over my thighs. “We both have all day to think about it.”
I’m tempted to ask him to hit me with it now, so I won’t spend the day worrying about it. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say them.
“I’m very excited about taking our relationship to this next level. How are you feeling about it?”
“Scared.”
“I understand, bebelle. But I’m not going to do anything to you that you can’t handle. Ever. All you have to say is rouge, and it ends right then and there. I swear this to you.”
I look at the flogger in his hand. “What if I can’t handle it?”
“We’ll start out slowly, and you can tell me what’s okay and what’s not. I will listen and honor whatever you say.”
I nod. “All right.” I want to tell him that I trust him. I know that’s something that is very important to him, but I’m not there yet.
Tristan leans down and kisses my forehead, and it feels so affectionate. “I will see you this evening.”
“All right.”
“Enjoy your massage and spa day.”
As if there’s a chance I wouldn’t. “I have a feeling that I will.”
An affectionate kiss on the forehead this morning.
An ass-whipping tonight.
I need a massage because the man gives me whiplash.
The door shuts and I pick up the flogger. I drag the leather strips over the palm of my hand and know exactly what I have to do if I’m to have any peace of mind today.
I lift the flogger and bring it down as hard as I can on my thigh. The leather strips sting my skin, but it’s tolerable. Maybe even pleasurable in a weird kind of way, but I already know that there will be a lot more velocity behind it when Tristan uses it on me.
Maybe he’ll let me be Mrs. Broussard again.
I enter the spa and the receptionist heads me off before I can say a word. “Mrs. Broussard?”
Well, well. It looks like I am Mrs. Broussard. “Yes.”
“We’re ready for you. Right this way.”
I follow the small brunette into a room at the back of the spa. She places a luxurious robe on the chair and instructs me on what we’ll be doing. Once changed, I’m taken to a private room where the magic begins.
I’m mannied, peddied, scrubbed, and buffed to perfection. My time ends too soon but then I’m moved to another room where I’m instructed to lie facedown on a table, draped only across my butt.
The next hour flies entirely too quickly, but I’m feeling refreshed and relaxed when I leave. I almost forget entirely that I’m going to get flogged in a few hours. Almost.
I walk by several shops in our hotel lobby as I’m walking toward the elevator and something in the window of a shop catches my eye.
A showgirl costume. And it is magnificent.
The black bustier is trimmed in scarlet red with a bow sitting directly between the breasts. Black and red feathers form a skirt across the back and it has a small matching headpiece. The look on the mannequin has been completed with black fishnet stockings.
Hot. Hot. Hot.
Tristan says that I’m to never wear lingerie that he hasn’t chosen, but I think any man would love this. Plus, it’s a costume. It can’t be considered lingerie.
The urge to wear it for him is overwhelming. I don’t think that I can resist buying it and surprising him by dressing as a burlesque showgirl.
When in Vegas…
Tristan is a Dom. No one could be more open-minded when it comes to sexual role-playing. Isn’t that what we did yesterday when we pretended to be husband and wife?
I enter the boutique for a closer look at the burlesque outfit, and a saleswoman is by my side immediately, asking how she can help me. “How much is the burlesque costume?”
“Two thousand dollars and worth every penny. It’s one of a kind, and I assure you that the craftsmanship is excellent. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Shit! Two grand for that tiny little outfit? I’m not a tight ass when it comes to spending some money, but that seems excessive to me for a bustier and feathers.
But it is gorgeous. And I think Tristan would love it. I bet none of his other submissives have ever shown up in the bedroom in something like this. “I’ll take it.”
I walk out of the bedroom into the living room, and Tristan is talking to someone on his cell. Sounds like a business call. “That’s not acceptable. I’m only in Vegas until next Sunday.”
Tristan takes notice of me and inspects me from head to toe. He winks and mouths, “Beautiful.”
I mouth, “Thank you.”
He motions with his hand for me to join him on the couch. He inspects my nails and removes my fuck-me pumps so he can see my toes. I giggle when he brings my foot to his mouth and sucks my big toe, all while never missing a beat as he talks business.
If this leads to where it did last time he sucked my toes, I’m going to be on my back getting fucked when he ends this call. And that can’t happen. I want to save it all for tonight when I’m wearing my surprise for him.
He gives me those eyes—the ones that tell me he wants to do something very dirty as soon as he finishes this call. I shake my head from side to side and mouth, “No.”
Lifting his brows, he counters with a slow nod and look of determination. “Yes.”
“No,” I whisper. “There will be none of that until later.”
I’m certain that he’ll hate being told no, but he’s just going to have to not like it because I want to save all of the fun for tonight. I want his anticipation to be at its highest.
“That sounds good, Trevor. I’ll call you in a couple of days, and we’ll discuss it further.”
I suspect that he’s ending his call sooner than he would have because of my rejection. “And just why not?”
“I have something special for you later, and fucking right now will ruin it.”
“Fucking never ruins anything. It makes everything better.”
I sigh loudly. Dramatically. “We’re not doing it right now. You’re waiting until aft
er dinner. Sorry.”
“I’ve never been told no by my submissive.”
I don’t think that this man has heard no many times in his life. It might do him some good. “Well, this sub is telling you no.”
“I don’t like it worth a fuck.” He’s sullen, but I swear that he’s still hotter than hot.
“It’s going to be so damn good. You just have to wait a few hours.”
“You’re being pretty cold to the man who just arranged for you to be pampered today.”
He won’t say that when he sees me in that costume. “The wait will be worth it. Promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
8
Tristan Broussard
I sit on the bed while Emma Lia is in the bathroom changing into the red teddy I chose for her to wear tonight. I lean back, propping my weight on my arms. I probably appear carefree, but there’s nothing carefree about the way I feel as I look at mon bebelle.
The drive to make her my submissive in every way is fierce. It’s quickly becoming an obsession that goes beyond a simple sexual need. Though my body burns for her, I don’t just want to fuck her. I want to imprint myself on her, to mark her from the inside out, so that she will never belong to any man but me.
I want to own her completely.
She opens the door an inch or two and peeks out through the crack. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
“You’ll love this one, so do it.”
I close my eyes, and a few moments later hear the start of slow, seductive music. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”
I’m more than a little surprised to see her standing in front of me, hands on hips, dressed in a black and red showgirl costume with black thigh-highs. She lifts the back of her hair from her neck and bites her lower lip as she bends at her knees, swaying her hips.
Mother. Fucker.
“It’s not the red teddy you chose for me to wear tonight, but I hope you still like it.”
“Fuck yeah, I love it.”
She begins to move to the music, turning her back to me and slowly swinging her ass from side to side. The feathers forming the skirt oscillate back and forth, and all I can think about is what I’m going to do to that ass with the flogger.
My dick is so hard. It’s as though it’s been months instead of hours since I had her. It takes every ounce of my self-control to not tear off her costume, bend her over the bed, and pound into her flesh until I explode.
I control myself because I don’t want this to happen too quickly. We have new things to try tonight.
“Come here,” I say hoarsely, my cock straining painfully against the fly of my trousers.
She shimmies her way over and sits on my lap with her legs wide apart. She rubs her ass back and forth across my hard-on and then leans closer until her back is against my chest. She drops her head back and my mouth hovers over her ear, nipping at her earlobe. “Who do you belong to?”
“I belong to you.”
“Yes. Yes, you do, bebelle.” My voice is thick with lust.
I suck her earlobe and then release it as I move my hands to her proud tits standing up in her bustier. “Lie on the bed. Facedown.”
“Yes, Master.”
I get up and begin to undress while she slowly crawls onto the bed. “Head down, ass up.”
She follows my instructions, but I see the hesitation in her movements. There is a part of her that fears me, that senses what I’m capable of. And she’s right to be afraid. There is something within me that thrives on the pain of others, that wants to hurt them.
That wants to hurt her. And her vulnerability turns me on almost as much as her beauty.
Once she’s in position, I’m able to see her pretty pink pussy and asshole peeking out from beneath the feathers. No fucking panties. That shit just about robs me of my last ounce of restraint.
I have to touch her.
I cup my hand between her legs, my middle finger pushing into her small opening. The warm moisture that I find there makes my cock jolt.
She wants me. She wants this. Although she isn’t really sure what this is.
I can sense her nervous anticipation. She simultaneously desires and fears me, which is a huge turn-on. It also triggers another kind of hunger in me. A darker, more perverse desire.
Standing at the edge of the bed, I reach out and trail my fingers along her spine. She trembles under my touch, sending a sordid thrill through me, and I realize that I have everything I want and need, right here, right now.
Emma Lia. She’s everything, and I couldn’t ask for more.
I want to swallow her fear and pain. I want to hear her screams. I want to feel her fight against me and then melt in my arms while the sheets absorb the sweat of our sins.
She’s the only woman that I’ve ever wanted this much. Having her here and at my mercy, ready to take her first flogging, is intoxicating. It’s the most powerful drug I’ve ever tasted. Because the submissives who came before her were nothing more than diversions while I was waiting for Emma Lia.
I stroke the soft skin of her thighs and ass. Soon they will be striped, but for now I’m enjoying their unmarked smoothness. “Use your safe word and it ends immediately. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Master.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do, Master.” She doesn’t hesitate in answering. And although I’m grateful for her trust, I don’t understand how she can so easily give it to me.
Bending down, I press a gentle kiss to the soft ivory skin over one of her cheeks and then caress my hand over it. “I took your submission by force, bebelle. But now I want to truly earn it.”
A change comes over her body. The tension melts away and is replaced with relaxation.
I straighten and raise the flogger, bringing it down against the cheek that I just kissed. I don’t use a lot of force, but she still jerks when the leather bites the skin covering the orbs of her ass. She almost instantly releases a soft whimper from her parted lips, and the sound forces the blood in my veins to rush to my cock.
She moves back into position with her head lowered, face pressed against the mattress, and arms outstretched. “Did that hurt?”
“Yes, but it felt good too.”
This flogger is designed for a low-impact, stinging sensation. We’ll need to build up to something with deeper impact.
I swing harder the second time and she still jolts, but to a much lesser degree. I bring the flogger down again and again, my motion taking on an entrancing rhythm. With each strike of the leather tails against her virgin skin, I slip further and further into a world where all I can see and hear and feel is her.
The reddening of her pale skin, the gasps and moans from her sweet mouth, the way her body tenses under each stroke of the flogger and then relaxes… I become lost in it.
My addiction is being fed. My needs met. My cravings satisfied. All of it is fulfilled by her—my obsession, my fixation, my addiction.
I stop when I feel satiated and admire my work. Emma Lia is now lying on her stomach, her beautiful alabaster cheeks and thighs adorned with pink stripes. So fucking beautiful.
I drop the flogger on the bed and crawl onto the bed, lying next to her. “Come here.”
She rolls to face me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her body against mine. This is what she needs right now—to feel taken care of, to re-establish our connection, to strengthen our bond. And this closeness is what I need too—to comfort her, to feel her in my arms.
I want to be her everything: her lover and her tormentor, her pleasure and her pain. I want to bond her to me physically and emotionally, to brand myself so deeply inside her mind and body and soul that she won’t be able to leave me when she does finally pull that key.
I hold her close and stroke her hair slowly, giving both of us time to absorb what just happened and recover from the endorp
hin-crazed high that we’re both riding. My soothing caress becomes more enthusiastic, my hands roaming her body with a new plan: to arouse, not just to calm.
My hand slips between her thighs, my fingers searching out that little bud at the top of her slit that I already know will be rigid and erect with longing for my touch. I find her needy clit and pet it with my index finger. My other hand grips her hair and pulls, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes are dazed but filled with passion as they lock on mine.
Her sweet lips are parted when I lean down and devour her mouth with a deep, thorough kiss. She moans into my mouth and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me hard against her.
My balls draw up tightly against my body, my cock aching for her slick, warm flesh. But right now, I only want to pleasure her—a reward for the way she trusted me with her body just now.
“I want to make you come.”
She releases her hold on my shoulders, and I crawl down her body as she turns to lie on her back. I push her legs apart and she cries out when I drag my tongue across her bare slit. My tongue laps at her, tasting all of her sweet, sticky goodness. I tongue fuck her little cunt, the scent and taste of her making my head spin with raw lust before moving up to swirl my tongue over her clit. I’m merciless with it, flicking my tongue over it again and again.
I suck and release the needy little nub until her body begins to tense. Suddenly, she becomes rigid, every muscle in her body tensing. She shatters beneath me, her whole body trembling, and I taste that salty-sweet goodness on my tongue.
“Oh God. I’m coming. So hard.”
I give Emma Lia her moment.
And then I want mine. “Turn over.”
She obediently rolls to her stomach and gets on her hands and knees.
On all fours. Her ass tilted up. Her back slightly arched. Just the way I want her to be.
Damn, she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I can see everything. The folds of her wet pussy. Her virginal pink puckered hole. The delicious curves of her cheeks, pink with marks from the flogger. My heart is pounding heavily in my chest, and my cock is throbbing painfully as I grasp her hips, lining up the head of my dick against her opening.