Casey's Choice

by Alexis Alvarez

  “Are you done?” The words were pulled out of her throat, and she felt a sort of panic.

  “I’ll tell you when we’re done. Don’t ask again.” His voice was firm and held a note of displeasure.

  “But I need to know how many.” She could hear the desperation in her voice, and yet the feeling of utter helplessness in his hands had her so turned on that she could scream for that, too. She wanted him to undress and take her from behind, to fuck her wildly while she was tied down. She was sure she’d orgasm with the slightest touch of his finger.

  He spanked harder, a fierce volley with the brush that left her gasping, tears coming to her eyes. “Hunter. Sir!”

  “There are times you’ll know the count ahead of times. Others, you won’t. It’s part of submitting to me, letting me control it. I’ll tell you when you’re done.”

  “I’m done now! Stop. It hurts.”

  But he didn’t stop; he began to spank her steadily with the brush, waiting several seconds in between each strike, but not letting up the pace. They were hard, and the ones across her thighs were especially painful, but soon the skin across her entire ass felt tight and hot and sore, and it was stinging and aching so much that she thought she couldn’t take any more. “Hunter,” she gasped. She didn’t know how long the spanking had gone on, but it felt like forever. An extra vicious crack reminded her of the error and she wailed, “Sir! I’m sorry.”

  “All right,” he soothed her. “Now I’ll do the extras, the ones you earned. Ten, and they’ll be hard. You count them, and we’ll be done. I know you can take this, Sofia.” He stroked between her legs. “Your body likes what I’m doing. Yes? Answer me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice coming out hoarse and wild.

  “Then count, and be polite. No cursing for these last ten.” He brought the brush down harder than before, and she squealed out and jerked, before calling “One.” It stung, but she wanted to do this, wanted the pleasure he’d promised. And she could feel her nipples rock hard under her body, rubbing against the leather of the bench top, the moisture between her legs. So she bore down, took a deep breath, relaxed her body for the next one. “Two!”

  By the time they got to eight, she was writhing. “Hunter, Sir, please, just skip the last two? I’m begging you. I’ll be more polite next time I ask. I swear it. My ass is so sore, just please.”

  “No,” he said. “You’ll take the last two. In silence, Sofia, or I’ll add another two. And we’ll keep doing it until you hold your tongue. So control yourself now, and we’ll be done so soon. Just thirty seconds or so… think about it. So close, yes?”

  She nodded, her eyes blurred with tears. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be quiet for them. I’m sorry.”

  “Good.” And then the last two came, so hard that new tears came to her eyes, her whole body on fire with the sudden and exquisite pain, and she wailed out as he was already unfastening her wrists and ankles, and enfolding her into his body on the bed. “Good girl. We’re done.”

  He held her and stroked her shuddering body until she relaxed. Her ass was a burning mass, and she shifted over and over, trying to relieve the sensation, but also because she was an inferno between her legs too, and she needed him so badly she couldn’t breathe.

  “Please,” she begged in a whisper, and then his mouth was on hers. She felt wild with a profound sense of exhilaration, sexual tension, and pleasure that he’d bent her over and been rough with her. She wasn’t sure she should love this, but she loved it anyway, and she began to rip at his shirt, practically tearing off buttons, her cuffs hitting hard against his hard chest as she tugged. “Take off your clothes, please,” she begged.

  In response, he rolled her over and stripped, bending over to the nightstand for a condom. “Next time I’ll take you from behind,” he growled, “or I’ll tie up your legs so I can spread you open before me, like a feast. But today we’re doing it like this, face to face. I want to see your eyes when you come, Sofia. I want to see the look in your face.”

  He held her hands above her head, pushing her into the bed with his body, and when he entered her, she gasped in pleasure as the feel of his thickness and length filling her and the heat of her ass only served to increase the fire in her clit. As she wrapped her legs around him, grasping him with her entire core, and he bit hard at the soft skin at the side of her breast, hard enough to leave marks, she screamed out in pure emotion and feeling, a feeling that was eclipsed the next second by the overwhelming rolls of pleasure that pushed her into overdrive. The orgasm took her with vehemence, tossing her like a boat on in a storm, and she clutched at him, digging into his palms with her nails as he held her hands down still, crying out and offering herself to him in wild abandon.

  He came a second later, shouting into her neck, biting her breast again, making her hiss out her breath in a combination of aftershocks of pleasure and the exquisite pain of his teeth on her skin. He let her hands go, pulled out carefully, and lay beside her, breathing hard. Casey rolled into his body and let herself fly into the clouds of sensation that filled her, aware of nothing except his touch, his strong body, the endorphins flooding her so thoroughly that she felt drugged with pleasure.

  She came back to herself when he stirred and pushed up onto one elbow to look into her face. “Sofia?” he asked, his voice almost tender, and something inside her broke open. She nodded and felt tears start to spill from her cheeks.

  He pulled her into his arms, then, surrounding her with his strength, and she could smell his cologne and sweat and the scent of her arousal on his hands, coming from his body. “It’s all right,” he soothed her. “It’s all right.”

  She nodded into his chest, but pushed her face further into his skin, as if trying to get inside him, and then she snaked her arms like ivy and wrapped them around his torso, holding him as tightly as she could, and started to sob.

  “Hey, hey, Sofia,” he said, but it was a murmur, a caress, and he held her until she stopped a minute later, rather suddenly, the emotion spent. She took a deep sigh, testing her feelings, and relaxed her grip. He winced. “Those cuffs dig in pretty good. You have a tight grip.”

  “Did I hurt you?” She reached around to touch his back, but he grabbed her hand, shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the way it went tonight.” He let her hand go, and when she relaxed it onto his chest, he touched her cheek. “I hurt you. Did you like it?”

  She kept her eyes on his, even though the feeling was so powerful that she wanted to look away, and she nodded. “I liked it. Yes.”

  She saw something flash in his face: relief, pleasure, maybe even victory, but his voice was solicitous when he spoke. “I’m going to take off your cuffs and rub lotion into your skin. You’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but you shouldn’t bruise.”

  “Are you serious? I feel like I won’t sit for a week. I feel like I’ll have bruises on top of bruises.” She winced as she sat up and held out her wrists to be unbound. She wasn’t sure, though, how long the soreness would last. The words were ones she’d only read before, in books. This was her first time, after all. When he removed the leather straps from her wrists and ankles, she felt a wistful longing to have them back on, for the game not to end. She rubbed her arms, feeling the difference in momentum. Being tied down for him had satisfied some strange, dark part of her soul, had freed something in her even while she was bound.

  The snap of a lotion bottle caught her attention, and he gestured with his hand, roll over, and she obligingly flopped onto her stomach. She hissed out her breath when he started to stroke her skin and she tensed her glutes hard, but relaxed into his touch after a minute, as the gentle salve began to soothing her jangled nerve endings.

  “I meant it to hurt,” he said, his fingers sure and easy on her skin. “But not to leave bruises. You’ll be sore tonight, pink tomorrow and still a little sore, and then back to yourself again the next day. If you bruise, I’ll be surprised—and disappointed in myself. My goal was to show you how pain and pleasure can
mix.”

  Languid now, enjoying his touch, she pushed her buttocks up into his palms. “You missed a spot.”

  “No, I didn’t. I got you a nice, even red.” He chuckled. “Which is already fading. A temporary masterpiece. Art disappearing before my eyes.”

  Her eyes were shut and she murmured, “You’re a performance artist, then, perhaps. So different from what you collect.”

  “Mmm.” He kept massaging her, stroking her thighs now. “A very different collection, but one that’s more valuable.” He paused. “Turn over, Sofia?” When she did, he took her chin. “Now you? Your submission can’t be taken, only given. That’s worth more than anything on my walls. Those I buy and sell and hang without their consent.”

  She smiled, touched. “Some of the club members hang people up by rope, though. Sort of like a picture on a wall.”

  He laughed. “The paintings on my wall are lovely, but cold. You’re alive, and warm, and you have the most beautiful light in your eyes when you look at me, like this. Like you are, right now.”

  He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips, a soft brush that touched down and then ignited without warning, and they grabbed at each other, the embers fanned into bold flames in one single heartbeat.

  “Don’t spank me again, not tonight, I’m too sore,” she said, not sure if she was giving him a warning or a request, and he spoke into her lips. “Not until next time… you’re done for tonight.”

  “I’m not done at all,” she teased, reaching down to touch his hard length between their bodies, and he growled and grabbed her hair. “Oh, not with that,” he agreed with a chuckle. “From behind, this time, like I told you. On your hands and knees, and spread your legs for me. Don’t come until I give you permission.”

  “What if I don’t wait?”

  “Do you want to find out?” His eyes burned into hers.

  “You already said you won’t spank me again.”

  “There are so many other ways to punish a disobedient sub,” he pointed out, making a sizzle run through her veins.

  “But will the punishment turn me on?” she murmured into his neck.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. Are you a gambler, Sofia?” He raised one eyebrow.

  “You’ll never know how good I am until I win the hand,” she whispered. “Maybe I’m a secret card shark.”

  “Maybe I’m the world poker expert,” he whispered back. “Now turn over or you’ll find out that I’m not bluffing. If you obey me, though, I’ll bring you more pleasure.”

  “I want the pleasure,” she admitted, getting onto her hands and knees and spreading her legs. “Is this right? Can you see… what you want to see?” She twitched her hips and moaned. “I’m wet for you, Hunter. Can you tell?”

  “Oh, I can tell,” he said, and swore. “Wider. Yes, like that. Say Sir.” But his voice was thick with passion, and it was clear that he didn’t care about the Sir at this point, not really, and the fact that she was the one who made him this wild made euphoria surge in her soul.

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. More accustomed to him, she was comfortable with the position, the game, the whole situation. The spanking had been hard, painful, and exhilarating, and she was confident that this would be the same way.

  He touched her hip, tugged her buttocks wider with his hands, then nestled the hard tip of his cock at her pussy entrance. She wiggled, trying to entice him into her body, but he teased her with short pulses, drove into her in one smooth move, going deep until she gasped. “Hunter!”

  “Fuck me back,” he demanded. “I’m going to take you hard.”

  She didn’t answer, but whimpered and shoved her hips at his with all her force, meeting each thrust with a jerk of her own, feeling him seat so deeply in her body that she swore a man had never touched her there, not in this lifetime.

  “Touch your clit, Sofia,” he said. “Rub yourself and make it feel good.” She braced herself on one arm, glad for her workouts, for her strength; it took a strong body to hold herself up against his onslaught, and her arm was trembling with exertion by the time she started to quake with impending passion.

  “I need to come,” she gasped, rubbing herself more softly to stave off the feeling.

  “Wait,” he snapped at her, although the word wasn’t angry, it seemed to be torn from his throat, a sound of passion, desperation.

  “I can’t,” she begged. “It’s coming, I can’t hold it off.”

  “Do you want to be punished for coming?” he threatened, and those words alone were enough to tip her over the edge. She rubbed furiously as her clit sent sparks and shivers through her belly, and then screamed out in pleasure as the feeling smashed into her and through her, obliterating her with the force of its arrival, the magnitude of the sensation. She was pure power now, thrusting at him so hard that she nearly bucked him off; her arm a solid piece of steel supporting her as she rubbed her way to oblivion, aided by his thick cock rubbing along her G-spot, making the pleasure spiral higher and higher until she nearly couldn’t breathe.

  When she finally stopped spasming, she gasped, “God, Hunter, come now too, please, I want you to come like I did.” He grabbed her hips in his hands and gave one violent thrust and roared out his pleasure, the sounds reverberating off the walls, off her body, resounding in her heart.

  This time they lay intertwined, panting, both of them sweating. Casey ran her finger over his jaw and cheek. “That was incredible,” she whispered, and kissed his lips. His eyelids flickered open. “God, more than incredible,” he replied. “Thank you, Sofia.”

  Casey looked away. The only blight on this moment was the fact that she wasn’t Sofia, that she was still faking it as another girl. It didn’t seem like the worst evil in the world, but it was dishonest, cheap, unlike her. And every time she heard that girl’s name on his lips, she was ashamed.

  She rolled over. “I’m going to use the restroom,” she announced, and pulled the sheet, which has worked its way loose from the bed, around herself like a cape. She wasn’t cold, nor was she embarrassed to be naked in front of him, but it seemed like a protection against her own lie.

  The opulent marble and gilt fixtures, the glowing yellow light, the mirrors and pictures—all of it made even the toilet seem like a surreal dream world. She rinsed her face, ran fingers through her hair, and imagined his face when she told him the truth.

  She whispered it. “My name is really Casey. I snuck in here pretending to be Sofia.” She’d thought about it so long now, agonized over it, worked it back and forth in her mind so thoroughly, that she had no idea anymore of how bad her deception was. At times she was sure it was nothing, a trifle; he’d shrug and laugh it off, say he was glad she came, glad she could trust him with her true name. Other times, she was certain he’d turn cold and hard, send her away, never want to see her again, accuse her of being a childish idiot who had no place in his life.

  When she returned, he used the bathroom, then came back and sat beside her where she perched on the edge of the bed. “What are you thinking?” His voice was low.

  Chapter Nine

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “How about you?”

  He smiled. “You are amazing, Sofia, and I’m glad you decided to come that first night. When Kelsie mentioned she was referring a friend, I admit I was unsure. Her judgement has not always been… sound. You know she’s almost left the club. But you defied my every expectation.”

  “Oh.” Her voice was small.

  He touched her face. “I love that you can discuss art. Your laugh. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve met someone who can talk so intelligently and likes to be tied down and spanked? It’s my fantasy come alive. From the second I saw you at the door, there was something about you. You’re—” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t even know.” He sounded confused. “I need to better control my judgements ahead of time. Sometimes I’m too hasty, clearly.”

  She looked away, bit her lip, then rubbed her eyes, needing not to l
ook into his, to see the tenderness and honesty that floated there like sea treasures. She didn’t deserve such emotion from him.

  “Are you tired? Rest,” he urged her, pulling her back onto the pillow. “We’ll talk more later.”

  “All right.” She closed her eyes, unwilling to face the images of Kelsie and Sofia that hovered in front of her eyes. And when he lay beside her, his warmth providing a comfort she didn’t know she’d been missing these past months, years, she fell asleep quickly.

  * * *

  Mozart. Casey frowned—Echo usually started her day with loud eclectic bluegrass or funky alternative pop. Unusual. Did she have five more minutes to sleep before getting up for the gallery? She rolled over and pressed her cheek into her pillow—the thing kept springing up like a coil. Frustrated, she pummeled it, trying to get it to lie flat, the way she liked. Suddenly she sat upright, panting, blinking, until she remembered: Hunter. Last night. His bed.

  “Oh, God. Oh. God.” She put a hand to her chest. “It’s okay. I’m just here.” She smiled to herself. For half a second, trapped between dream and wakefulness, she had no idea where she was and felt lost, soulless. It had been creepy, and now that she was fully awake, that feeling dissolved.

  She glanced around. His bedroom was richer in the light of day, with artwork on the walls and heavy drapes pulled halfway open to let light stream in. The carpet felt good on her toes. When she went into the bathroom, she found a new toothbrush and washcloth, and a bar of floral-scented soap with French writing on the label. She smelled it and raised an eyebrow: It was nicer than perfume. She found a pretty, feminine robe, too, and pulled it on.

  “Coffee?” Hunter came in while she was rinsing toothpaste from her lips. He put a hand on her shoulder from behind and kissed her cheek. “I made it black. There’s cream in the kitchen.” He placed a steaming mug on the marble counter. “If you want to shower, I have extra clothes in my closet. Some of them will be your size, I imagine.”