by Unknown
With or without Hart too. The dark Dom was known for not engaging in relationships, only play. She had no illusions that anything with him would last past the weekend. Maybe not even the whole weekend.
“What are you thinking, Vanessa?” He used her name like a caress. Walt liked to call her “slave” in nearly the same tone of voice. Even though she didn’t consider herself to be a slave, or Walt’s slave, she knew it got him going, so she went along with it. Walt liked to say it because he thought it was sexy—and because, Vanessa suspected, it was deep down what he wanted. When Hart used her name that way, it was as if he was saying she herself was sexy, and wanted. It was a heady experience.
“This weekend isn’t ending up like I thought it would,” she said.
“I could drive you home, if you wish.”
She looked at him sharply. “Is that what you want?”
“No. But if this is just about what Walt thinks, I’m perfectly willing to let him think that you spent the weekend. I’m looking forward to your company, but I don’t want you submitting out of obligation. Or out of spite.”
“I would like to submit,” she said. Admitting it made her feel vulnerable. It was easier just to pretend that the deal bound her, and of course she had agreed to it.
“Good.” He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the narrow urban street. “Because I am going to enjoy owning you for the weekend.”
Owning. She shivered. Still, it was just for a weekend.
He drove skillfully around a couple of double-parked cars that threatened to block off the street, and headed west toward a better section of town. That was the downside of any plan to go to the Devil’s Workshop by herself. It really wasn’t the best neighborhood. Prostitutes plied their trade a couple of blocks away, and probably drug dealers too although those were harder to spot. She didn’t mind walking around there with company, especially male company, but by herself was another matter. She would stay in her car in the garage until someone she recognized from the club parked near her, and then walk with them. Yeah, there was definitely a kinky life for her after Walt, and after Hart.
For now it made sense to focus on Hart. She knew she wasn’t a one-night stand kind of girl, but it could be one hell of a weekend if Hart’s reputation was even half merited. Certainly he was skillful with toys, and she had been surprised at how much the simple positions he had made her take had turned her on. This weekend was worth making an exception.
He stopped at a stoplight and squeezed her upper thigh. His long fingers were tantalizingly close to her pussy as he pushed the dress up. She spread her legs before she realized what she was doing.
“Lovely. You’re going to have to wait for your orgasm, but I do enjoy keeping you on the edge.” He let go of her thigh and took hold of her hand, guiding it to her pussy. “Play, but don’t come. Green light.”
“But what if people see?” she objected as he started the car moving again.
“Did you see how dark the tinted windows are? And anyway, this car sits pretty high up. No one has an angle.”
Now that she thought of it, the windows were awfully dark. Even from the inside she could tell they were tinted, and she couldn’t remember being able to see in from the outside at all. She wanted to ease the tension she felt. Her pussy was tingling and her core felt all wound up. What he suggested was too tempting, too forbidden. She pushed her three middle fingers together and rubbed her clit. He gave her one glance and smiled, but then kept his eyes responsibly on the road.
She dipped into her pussy to get some wetness on her fingers. She slid them again over her swollen clit. It was so sensitive. She stroked as he turned onto a long, clear road full of city lights, building up pressure as the car moved along. As much attention as he was paying to his driving, she thought it was possible she could come without him noticing. A little one. A quiet one. Yes.
“We’re getting close,” he said.
I sure am.
“Time to slow down.” He turned off the main road onto a side one with a lower speed limit. She convinced herself that he didn’t mean her, that he just meant the car. She tried to stop her breathing from revealing how close she was. Deep yoga breaths. Can’t let him catch me.
“Stop, Vanessa.” At twenty miles an hour, he apparently felt safe enough to give her a glance.
Damn! She stilled her hand in spite of wanting to do more. “I didn’t come,” she said. “I was a good girl.”
“You were going to. And you were trying not to be noticed. Pull your skirt down, and then put your hands at your side.”
She did as she was told, reluctantly.
The street he was on was in a good part of the city. A few old brownstone houses were left, but he pulled into the underground parking lot beneath a pair of high-rises.
He gave her a smile. “If you behave, I’ll play with you in the elevator. Circumstances permitting, of course. You know, I’m not normally into orgasm denial.”
“You don’t have to be on my account,” she said quickly.
“Oh, but I think I do.” He pulled into a reserved spot and undid his seatbelt. Leaning over, he kissed her hard, his hand weaving into her hair. She kissed him back, their tongues intertwining in an unequal dance. When he stopped she was short of breath and lightheaded. She hadn’t ever been kissed quite like that before, so forcefully and so focused. She wanted it again.
“You will come at my command and with my permission only this weekend. And when you finally do, I expect it will be one of the best orgasms of your life. Understood?”
“Yes, Master Hart. Only if it pleases you.” It sure as hell didn’t please her. She wasn’t even sure why she was going along with it. She’d been with men who didn’t care whether she came or not. She’d been with ones who regarded it as a personal accomplishment. But he seemed to think he could make her orgasm whenever she wanted. Hell, even once she started getting into BDSM with Walt, she’d achieved climax on only half their dates. Often she’d come at her own hand after she got home. Now she was supposed to hold off for something that might not ever happen?
But maybe Hart was confident for a reason. He certainly had a reputation at the club for knowing his way around a woman’s body. Lots of women’s bodies. She pushed that thought away for a moment, because it led to thinking that she was just one of many to come. That wasn’t the point of this exercise. She’d enjoy the weekend for the weekend, nothing more. And someday maybe Hart would be one of her many lovers, although she hoped someday to find a man who fulfilled her and stopped her from searching.
Tonight she’d learned emphatically that Walt wasn’t that man.
“Your mind is wandering again.” He climbed out of the car so she supposed she should do the same. She unfastened her seat belt and opened her car door, finding him waiting for her. He caught her as she stepped out from the high seat. Then he spanked her, hard. The dress deadened the blow slightly and muffled the sound more, but she still yelped.
“I will have your attention, Vanessa. Whatever it takes to focus you.”
“People could be looking.” She started to glance around and thought better of it. Instead she stared directly into his eyes, not daring to break the gaze. If she did, she’d be spanked again and her butt was still hurting.
“Then the question is, do you trust me to look first and make sure it’s a safe situation? It’s remotely possible that I missed someone. If so, they saw a grown woman get spanked on the butt, once. It’s after midnight, so I think we can safely guess our imaginary observer is an adult. I’m not going to let you act up in an empty parking lot. Or a full parking lot. I might find other ways to deal with it in the latter case. I don’t know what you’ve been allowed to get away with in the past, but right here, right now, I’m going to have your focus on me.” His face softened somewhat. “And in return, my focus will be on you as much as possible. Good deal?”
She remembered dates with Walt where he’d said he’d needed to check mail and she’d found him surfing the net for
sports scores twenty minutes later. She’d chalked it up as the cost of dating someone with a cock—but she didn’t appreciate it. “Good deal.”
“Okay then.” He reached for her wrist. It seemed odd, in a way, that he didn’t just hold her hand. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my Dom. And even that just for the weekend. Maybe he was sending the message intentionally, maybe not, but either way she got it loud and clear. She suspected he was doing it on purpose. It didn’t seem Hart did much on accident.
There was a glass door that required a key card swipe from Hart. It led to a little hall, at the end of which were the elevators. They had to wait for an elevator to come down from the fifth floor. He let her hand go and settled his hand on the upper part of her bottom instead. More than friendly, not quite a grope.
The elevator door opened and the car was empty. It was a nice elevator, freshly cleaned with blue carpet. He patted the lower curve of her bottom in the same place where he spanked to urge her in, and then followed her. He pushed the button for the top floor, number fourteen.
“You like living in an apartment?” she asked.
“Yes and no. Less to take care of, for sure.”
Boy, that hit it on the head. “That’s what’s attractive to me about them.”
“Can’t have wild parties though.”
She laughed. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”
He shook his head. “Never. I didn’t mean getting drunk parties, I meant play parties.”
“And you with your choice of women.” He’d have it too, she was certain.
The elevator cruised past the lobby without stopping. His eyes flicked to the place where the numbers lit up, and then he pulled her to him. He pulled the zipper on her dress down an inch, and then slipped his hand inside, cupping her breast.
“What if…” she started, and thought better of it. It actually gave her a little thrill to think of someone walking in on them. She didn’t know anyone here. She felt safe and protected with a man as big and strong as Hart. She pushed her chest into his hand instead, arching her body to give him a better view of her cleavage.
“What if I kiss you?” he filled in, and then his lips covered hers. He pressed her against the wall of the elevator. Her legs parted around his thigh, her dress riding up in the process. She hoped it was still covering her, but her pussy was pressing bare against the denim of his jeans and she could feel a cool breeze on her bottom. He’s going to have a wet spot. She felt she ought to pull back. Instead she ground up against him, moaning into his kiss.
I suppose no one much takes the elevator from one floor to another after midnight. And if they do, they’re probably on a nookie run themselves. He moved his thigh, rubbing the denim backed by hard muscle against her, and even that thought went away. She didn’t care. Her nipple hardened against his fingers. Her clit ached. And his kiss took her breath away. Figuratively and then literally. Didn’t he need to breathe? But there was no thought of pulling back. He would decide.
He let her go suddenly, giving the hem of her skirt a quick downward tug. He pulled her from the wall and returned his hand to its position on her bottom, a little lower this time. Heart hammering, she opened her mouth to ask if she’d done something wrong. The elevator dinged. The 14 was lit red. A moment later the door opened.
She wasn’t sure how he had been keeping an eye on that when he had seemed completely focused on arousing her, but somehow he did. Maybe he knew just how long the trip took. Once again, she found herself greedy for release, which had probably been his plan all along.
He steered her down the hall. The doors were well spaced, so the apartments were large. He opened one on the right, and ushered her in.
It wasn’t large compared to her parents’ place. My place. But it was bigger than any apartment she’d ever seen. The living room didn’t look too crowded even with a big white L-shaped sofa and a widescreen TV, and the kitchen, visible from a few feet in, had a table and room to move around from. The hardwood floors were polished and clean. A few magazines and a stack of mail on the glass coffee table in the center of the living room helped make the place look lived in. Her high heels click-clacking on the floor, she took a couple of more steps forward. She turned to look at Hart.
“Shoes on or off, Master Hart?” She almost called him Sir again.
“Off, please.” He was already removing his. “I don’t need you to be taller.”
“You’d have to bend down less, if I was,” she said, but did as directed. She held on to the door of the entry closet while she removed first one shoe, than the other. She thought she looked sexy in heels, and normally she loved the clicking. But the floor looked too nice to walk on in them.
Once her shoes were off Hart looked even taller than he had before.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Soda, juice, milk, water?”
She smiled. She had thought for a moment that he wanted to get her drunk. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have minded a glass of wine to get her a little more relaxed, but the fact that he didn’t offer made her trust him a little more. “Soda water if you have it, plain water otherwise, thank you.”
He nodded and moved off toward the kitchen. “Put your dress in the closet and kneel on the cushion in the living room.”
She blinked, but it was lost on his retreating back. He said it so casually. She hesitated a moment, but the thought of him turning around and seeing her doing nothing didn’t appeal. She’d get another spanking, for sure, and this one not muffled by the dress nor restrained by the circumstances of the parking lot. She unzipped and removed the dress, hanging it up on a hanger beside his jackets in the closet. Then she walked forward, naked. She saw the cushion he was referring to once she got fully into the room. It was sitting on the floor, positioned in front of a comfortable white chair that matched the sofa. She wondered how many women had knelt on it while Master Hart sat down. Maybe they even gave him a blowjob. Her mouth watered at the same time her face tightened. She tried to push the thoughts of others out of her mind, as if they didn’t matter. Tonight, right now, it’s just me and him.
She knelt on the cushion as directed. But rather than face the chair, she decided to follow orders to the letter, positioning herself toward the kitchen where he was getting their drinks. That was what he’d said to do, after all. It left her facing the coffee table as well, so she glanced over the magazines. There were a couple of sports magazines, but also a copy of The Economist. She hadn’t thought of Hart as stupid, by any means, but she’d been so busy thinking about him as a Dom and as a physical specimen that the idea of him reading a news magazine surprised her.
“You can get all the same information online these days, pretty much. But I’d rather not spend the time staring at a screen.” He set a tall glass in front of her, and she was delighted to see the bubbles in it. He sat on the chair behind her, and she twisted to look at him.
“Stay in the position you’ve been put in unless directed otherwise, Vanessa. You may, however, use your hands so that you can drink. Use your judgment there. I want you hydrated, but I don’t promise to let you use the bathroom the moment the impulse first strikes.”
“Um.” She had no desire to make a puddle on the floor.
“I’ll let you go, just at my timing and not necessarily yours. Not beyond what you can bear. Drink responsibly. And face as you were.”
She reluctantly turned away and took a sip.
Her reluctance faded when she felt his hands on her shoulders. His strong thumbs dug into the knots just inside her shoulder blade, coaxing them to loosen. She purred to let him know her appreciation. Shouldn’t I be doing that to him? But it felt so good she wasn’t going to suggest he stop for anything else.
He kneaded her in just the right spot. “You’re so tight. There’s a lot of stress in you. Do you want to talk about it?”
She was almost tempted to take him up on his offer. It would do her good to talk about the house and the burden of keeping it going. She envied him his
carefree apartment. But somehow all that was too personal. Still, he’d want an explanation, and he’d know her body didn’t lie. “Just Walt. Sorry. You’re helping me forget.”
“Uh-huh.”
She’d expected him to scold her for thinking about another man, but instead he sounded like he didn’t entirely believe her. Well, I’m a horrible liar. She moaned instead. It was safe, and his hands really did feel that good.
She decided she’d drunk enough water and she put her hands behind her back again, trying to resume the kneeling pose as he’d taught it to her. She felt cared for and she wanted to please him in return. That kind of give and take was the last thing she’d expected from Master Hart. She’d assumed it would be her giving and him taking all weekend long.
“Very good,” he said. “But hands in front of you for now. It opens up your back more for my fingers.”
She had no problems with that. She melted, slowly, as his hands softened her tense muscles. Leah, at work, went to a masseur every Wednesday at lunch, and recommended it highly, but Vanessa had never gone. If it wasn’t that good, it would be a waste of money. If it was, she couldn’t afford to do it as often as she’d need it. Better not to know.
And now she had one weekend with Hart, and then never again. Unless maybe she could be so good for him that he would want to massage her back again. That seemed unlikely. He could always get a different woman, someone thinner or prettier than her.