Jack Frost

by Angela Blake

  When the coast was clear I crossed the street and got into my own car. I guess it was a good thing he didn’t know I had my car around because then he might get more creative and think of a way for me to spend the night with him.

  I kind of felt sorry for Nick. He seemed like a nice guy, the type of man who my old self would kill to be with. He was sweet, handsome, gentle and he had a deep, poetic side too. If I didn’t experience something as hardcore as I did with Dylan then I might have found Nick to be the perfect match for me.

  But that just wasn’t how things were. After sleeping with Dylan and Michael alike, both who were rough and dominant in their own way, norJack sex, like the time I had with Nick, just seemed boring.

  Admit it, you can’t escape it. You want Dylan back. You want to submit your fucked up self to him and be his little daughter, his slut and his slave. You love him and you need to be his.

  I wanted to shut my mind up. I just needed to. Confused and slightly disappointed with my night out, I just decided to go get some coffee and head back home defeated.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey,” Vicky called me as she dumped a sJackl stack of papers on my desk. “How come you’re not wearing your little collar lately?”

  My cheeks flushed red. I looked up at her and answered, “I broke it up with my uh…”

  “Master? Dom?”

  “Y-yeah,” I stuttered. Fuck, why was she asking me here instead of in her office, where no one could hear us.

  “Sad,” she commented. “Well, anyway, I need half of these done by today. One more thing too; Michael’s been asking for you. You don’t want to piss of a board member, much less so one of the big guns around here.”

  I reached forward and almost touched her, “Ma’am Vicky? What do you suggest I do?”

  “Spread your legs and let him fuck you.” She then walked away.

  Cold-hearted bitch. Well, at least she lived up to all expectations. She was a mean bitch, everyone gossiped about it and it was quite an accurate description for her, in every sense of the word.

  The only problem though was that I didn’t want to fuck Michael. Sure, my time with Nick was boring and lifeless but that just meant I was still too attached to the rough style Dylan introduced to me. It would take time before norJack sex became exciting for me. If I go out and let Michael take me then he’d abuse it and soon I’d be trapped.

  If only it was that easy.

  I took a moment to get started on the documents Vicky sent me and to my surprise I discovered these were papers for a big deal between this company and Dylan’s. I even saw some of his more personal information, the ones necessary for character screening and such.

  Well, this sort of complicated things. It meant Dylan would be dropping by today or tomorrow for a business meeting. What if he saw me here? Would he even notice me? I promised I wouldn’t ignore him but wow it would be so awkward.

  There was no time to further debate the issue. I just had to finish these papers, hand them to Vicky, then disappear and head back home. That was it.

  What about Michael, then? Fuck. I needed to deal with him too.

  ***

  It was nearly time to end the office day when I walked into Vicky’s office and dumped the required files.

  “I got them all done,” I told her. “I didn’t want to wait and do the rest later on so I just went through the whole stack.”

  Vicky looked impressed. “Good. Now go carry them up to Michael’s office. He wants to see you, personally.”

  Oh fuck.

  “Yes ma’am,” I simply responded and picked up the documents. I scurried through the office and the hallways down to the elevator. Fortunately for me, no one else had to go in and I had a few moments to myself as I made my way up to the boss’s office.

  I hated how Michael was in charge of the board. Being an executive gave him so much power and it just infuriated me to see such an asshole being given his own office. To make it worse, he had the whole floor to himself. What a greedy, narcissistic bastard.

  “Sir Michael?” I greeted as I knocked on his door.

  “I know that voice anywhere,” he said from the other side. “It’s open, just come right in.”

  I opened the door and walked in, carrying the documents with both hands. Michael was behind his desk, working on something on his computer. Behind him was the most beautiful sight in the entire building: he had large ceiling-to-floor glass windows so he had a gorgeous view of the city right behind his desk.

  He, on the other hand, looked as smug as ever. I tried to ignore the creepy way he looked at me and just dropped the stack of papers on his desk.

  “Got these done,” I told him. “Is there anything else I can help you with sir or may I go? I still have a few bits of work to do back in my department and I’d like to get them done before the day is over.”

  Michael shook a finger, “Actually, little whore, I want you here.”

  I took a step back, “Sir?”

  “Don’t you ‘sir’ me,” he kept on going as he stood up. “I call the shots here, lady, and you’re going to do exactly as I say. You got off easy last time, I let you leave my house without having to fuck a few more times or clean or cook. Not this time. This time, you’re going to service me damn well.”

  Hell no.

  “Sir Michael, I’m fucking leaving,” I told him straight to his face. I was done with this shit. He can’t treat me like this, even if he was the boss.

  “You walk out those doors I guarantee you’ll lose your job.”

  Okay, that’s a genuine threat. I didn’t give a damn though. I ignored him and started to make my way back to the door. I was going to leave. If that meant quitting my job and having to work elsewhere, without Ysa by my side, then so be it.

  “Bitch, listen to me when I’m talking to you!” Michael screamed at me.

  Making my way out the door was the only thing in my mind. I had to leave before he could --

  “Oomph!” I groaned when he suddenly grabbed me from behind and tossed me to the floor. I knocked my head against his desk and for a fleeting moment it blurred my vision. As I slowly recovered and looked up I saw him locking the office door.

  Michael began undoing his belt. When he had it off he rolled it a bit and kept it in his hand as he approached me. “Slut, you will do exactly as I say. From now on, I’m your daddy!”

  Smack!

  “Aah! F-fuck!” I screamed when he used his belt to whip me, slapping the leather against my breasts.

  In pain and in shock I could not fight back as he got on top of me, straddling my legs with his own. Michael’s strength and weight greatly overpowered me and he was able to keep me pinned as he ripped through my blouse. Michael tore through and tossed my blouse and bra to the side.

  “Fuck you! Get the fuck off me!” I screamed and squirmed, trying to fight and get him off.

  Smack!

  Michael whipped me again, this time against my exposed tits. The sting hurt the most around my belly and my nipples. I wanted to fucking scream but all I could muster were tears. I began to cry and all my strength drained out of me.

  “I am going to fuck you,” he told me, his eyes bloodshot with lust and anger. “I am going to shove my cock so deep in you you’ll find it hard to walk for a week. I’m going to drill in your ass and drown you in my cum. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your goddamn name.”

  He quickly began removing my skirt and as soon as I was completely naked and exposed he pulled out his cock.

  Okay, I did admit I want it rough. I did admit I want to be kidnapped and fucked like a little fuck slave… but I didn’t want this. At that point I finally understood the main difference between Michael and Dylan. The latter had respect even when torturing me and punishing me and he had the main goal of pleasing us both. Michael just wanted to humiliate me and rape me, with absolutely no regards to my health, my mind or how he handled my body.

/>   Giving up, I simply closed my eyes and waited for him to thrust his cock into me.

  “Open your mouth, bitch!”

  I opened my mouth and Michael shoved his cock into it. For the first time since my last night with Dylan a cock went so deep into my throat I thought I was going to choke. Tears welled in my eyes I began to cry, completely messing my mascara, as he pounded his cock in and out of me.

  To take complete control and dominion over me, he began sliding his middle and index finger into my pussy. He didn’t wait until I was ready. He didn’t care if i wasn’t wet enough. All he cared about was shoving his digits in and parting my walls.

  With his cock thrusting in my throat I was beginning to weaken even further. I lost all strength to struggle and finally I just spread my legs, allowing him to finger me viciously.

  Please don’t get wet! I tried to prevent my body from getting aroused but there was no helping it. The rougher he was the more my body got turned on, even if my mind and heart was completely against what was happening to me right now.

  “See, you can’t deny it,” he said as he noticed I was beginning to get wet. “Your pussy needs it. You crave to get raped like a little fucking slut. I’m your daddy now, bitch.”

  Pop! He took his cock out of my mouth and I began to sob and cry. He didn’t care. He just turned me over and decided it was time to fuck me in his favorite doggystyle position. This time however he was much rougher. As he penetrated his cock into my pussy he took the opportunity to grab my hair, yank it so my mouth would gape open, and he took his one free hand to choke my neck. I was completely at his mercy.

  “Tell me you like it,” he commanded me. “Say you want to get fucked like this.”

  “I-I want to get f-fucked like this,” I said between my sobs. “I like it. I love it, d-daddy.”

  “I am going to cum in you and break your mind until you become nothing more than a fuck hole. When I’m tired of you I can let my friends use you. I don’t care. You’re just a meatbag.”

  Boom!

  The door suddenly swung wide open. I opened my eyes and looked.

  “Dylan!” I exclaimed in joy as I saw him rushing in to help. He slammed a foot on Michael’s face and then grabbed Michael by the hair. Dylan yanked the asshole across the office and then smashed his head repeatedly against a sJackl coffee table.

  “W-wait,” I called out. “D-Dylan stop! You’ll kill him!”

  Fortunately, he did stop and dropped Michael on the floor. Michael was in a pool of his own blood and one of his eyes were shut. Blood was spilling out from a concussion on his head. Despite the injuries, he was still slightly conscious.

  Dylan pointed a finger at the enemy and then at a pin he had on his breast pocket, “See this thing here? It’s got a camera and I’ve got everything recorded. You better shut the fuck up about this incident. Nothing happened. You don’t get to fire her or else I release the footage and completely fuck you up. You’ll be tried for rape and the press will be all over it. You understand?”

  Michael could only nod.

  “Good,” Dylan stated. “Now stay down. You’re going to sign those documents she finished, seal the deal between my company and yours, and then you’re going to stop bugging Olivia forever.”

  Dylan then turned to me, “Let him stay there for a while. He isn’t hurt too bad, despite how he looks. Here, put this on.” He took off his jacket and wrapped it around me. For the first time since we met, Dylan actually wanted me to put some clothes on instead of taking them off. It was a sweet gesture amplified by the fact that he just saved me from the asshole on the floor.

  “Thank you, daddy,” I told Dylan. He immediately looked at me and smiled at the mere mention of the word ‘daddy.’

  “Come on,” he then grabbed my hand. “Let’s get out of here. You’re done for the day. Let’s get you some clothes and some space to relax before anybody else figures out what happened here.”

  Dylan then faced Michael one more time, “I’m warning you.”

  Michael sobbed and nodded. He was already wiping his wounds with the sleeves of his shirt and was probably just trying to put himself back together. He just got beat by an older man, after all. That must have hurt Michael’s pride.

  He had it coming.

  I took one last look at Michael, imprinting the image of his bloody mess into my mind, and then turned around to follow Dylan.

  ***

  Dylan drove me back home, quickly and without any stops. He was quiet along the way but I could see he was just giving me space to think and calm down.

  During the ride home my mind raced to the night Dylan kidnapped me and then introduced me to his BDSM ways. Bondage, slave, master and domination were all things I had only seen briefly in porn and I didn’t really understand it all. Now that Michael tried to rape me I finally saw the big difference between consensual submission and rape.

  With Dylan, I was willingly giving up my freedom but at the same time I was being pleasured, teased and the effects were psychological as much as they were emotional and physical. After time I felt a sense of pride to serve him, to submit to him. With Michael I got no sense of satisfaction. I felt no pride whenever he’d try to use me and I definitely felt no lust for him. There was no respect.

  “Uhm, daddy,” I started to say as we drove up to my place. “Would you please come inside?”

  For a moment he remained in silence, perhaps deep in thought or maybe he was just trying to keep his cool considering what we just went through. After about a minute or two he then turned to me and said, “Sure. Got some coffee? I’d love a hot cup of coffee.”

  Coffee?

  Then it hit me. There was a game a few years back that had sexual content. That portion of the video game had to be blocked but hackers managed to gain access and they called their little mod, which put the sex back in the game, as “Hot Coffee.” Dylan seemed to hint he wanted to have sex.

  Or he could just be asking for coffee. Shut up, you’re thinking way too deeply on this shit. I took in a deep breath and told him “Yeah, I’ll fix up a cup for you. It’s the least I can do.”

  We both hurried inside, given I only had his big jacket on to cover me, and he dived inside to rest on the couch as I ran upstairs and got dressed. I didn’t want to waste time so I threw on the first nightgown I could find. It was so skimpy my panties were visible with even the slightest movement and it had a low back and front. I might as well just expose my tits.

  It was a little too revealing but I didn’t care. Dylan had seen everything at this point. I just needed something on in case Ysabel or Matt came home early.

  Before heading back to Dylan in the living room I went into the kitchen, fixed up two cups of coffee, and waited for the drinks to brew. As soon as they were ready I took both cups in hand and headed to the living room.

  “Here,” I said as I handed him his cup. I then took a seat opposite him. I was not going to risk getting horny by sitting beside him.

  “Thank you,” he said as he grabbed the cup and took a sip. “I didn’t know he’d been pestering you like this for so long.”

  I nodded, drank, then explained. “Remember when I said one of my bosses flirted with me and I slept with him? Michael was that boss. He’s a fucking airhead, a jerk and an asshole.”

  “That must have been terrifying,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

  This is not the same Dylan I spent so much time with. He’s being so… civil, so polite. Was this really how he was when he wasn’t in his bondage quarters? It was refreshing to actually get to talk to him.

  “You’re so sweet,” I told him. “How come you were never this sincere and sweet with me before?”

  Dylan grinned, “Because you didn’t give it a chance. I needed to break you before anything else. I wanted to take everything from you bit by bit so we could rebuild together. Look at you now: you’re no longer a virgin, you know how to take control, you can differentiate proper bondage
from getting raped and you seem to have a better understanding of who you are and what turns you on.”

  That was true. After that incident with Michael and then with Nick I knew what I wanted.

  “I want to be with you,” I told Dylan, my eyes fixed on his. I gave him the most sincere look I could muster and I did try to look seductive as well, leaning back on the couch so he could glimpse at my exposed tits and my legs. “I want to be yours again, daddy.”

  Dylan looked me over. I saw his eyes roam as he studied me. He put his cup of coffee down on the table between us and he leaned back as well. Before I could figure out what he had in mind he zipped down and grabbed a hold of his cock.

  God, this is making me drool.

  “Only if you answer this correctly,” he said. His words slightly faded as my attention was on his manhood. I watched as he squeezed and stroked it. “Why are you not offended with me grabbing my cock and planning to fuck you when you were so repulsed by Michael doing the exact same thing?”

  The answer to that was easy as pie.

  “Because I love you,” I told him. “Daddy, I love you so much. For you, I’d do anything. I’d try anything. I’d serve you, fuck you, enslave myself to you and more. If you asked me to strip and let you fuck me right here, right now, I’d agree. Pleasing you is my pleasure. It turns me on. It makes me feel alive. With Michael - or any other guy for that matter - I don’t feel a damn thing. No excitement, no thrill, no respect… and definitely no love.”

  Dylan smiled and clapped his hands. I think I just did him really proud there.

  “I love you too,” he declared. “I’ve always loved you. It’s because I love you that I was able to smack you and whip you and fuck you the way I did. If I didn’t love you I never would have felt any desire to own you, break you and mold you.”

  Damn it, I love this man. He just knew the exact right words to say. He knew how to be kinky, how to be naughty, how to be sweet and how to be romantic all at once. If it was any other man it would have sounded perverted or insane. With Dylan, however, it just sounded perfect.