Don’t come, the little submissive in my brain reminded me, and I obediently shifted the vibrator down again, using my fingers to spread myself wider and take a bit more of it into my pussy. Warm again, wet again, it traveled slowly back up to my clit, which was now practically sitting up and begging for attention like the puppy I’d been playing earlier. The thought of the analogy broke my concentration for a minute and then I started getting into the idea, wondering what Jack would make me do as a puppy, what it would feel like not to be able to talk, not to use my hands except as paws, to be his little bitch in heat—
“That is beautiful, pet.”
I squeaked and jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was standing, still fully clothed, at the end of the bed, staring right between my legs where the vibe was busily buzzing.
“Don’t stop,” he ordered quickly, and without thought I immediately dropped my head back down and started sliding the toy just inside my pussy again, spreading my legs wider. “Now tell me—in ten words or less—what you were thinking about.” The wry tone in his voice registered only dimly.
“I was thinking about…puppy play, Sir.”
“Really?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Huh. Have you ever done that?”
“No Sir.” But at the moment I’m getting off to the memory of you calling me a bitch in heat, so it’s clearly open for discussion.
“Me neither. Although it sounds like fun. Not as a lifestyle, mind you. Just something to play around with sometime.”
“Of course, Sir,” I murmured. “You already have a dog.”
Jack’s laugh warmed me. My hands were on autopilot—I was perilously close to coming but knew he wasn’t going to let me yet. Life had seldom seemed so rosy.
“True. But Rufus has clearly never studied the Big Book of Submission.” He was on the move, unzipping his suitcase again, and I felt and heard two soft thumps on the mattress. Glancing to the side, since he hadn’t said I couldn’t, I saw my other two purloined toys. Jack’s toys now, that he might let me play with if I was good. I planned to be as good as humanly possible.
The toy I was using was starting to annoy, however. I had gone too long without coming but I suspected that no orgasm was in my immediate future, judging by Jack’s mood, and even the lightest touch of the buzzing metal against my clit took me too close now. I whimpered and slid it back down to the somewhat safer region of my pussy. It was almost with relief that I handed the bullet over to Jack when he held out his hand, though it was to be a short-lived recess.
“Come over here,” he called once he’d placed the toy out of reach. Then, with a grin, a sharper, “Come!” He patted his leg and then pointed at the bed directly in front of him. Grinning back, I rolled over to all fours and puppy crawled to where he’d indicated, mentally wagging my tail for all it was worth.
“Okay, enough puppy for now.”
Pouting a little, I knelt in front of him, trying to look more subservient and less rabidly horny than I was actually feeling. Jack’s next words really didn’t help.
“Two toys left, little one. Which one are you going to demonstrate for me next? Oh, and the pop quiz will be continuing while you perform for me, porn princess. Just so you know.”
I surveyed the remaining two toys in dismay. There was my little massager with the cute bunny ears, of course, my favorite toy of all, the one guaranteed to work every time. But I wasn’t going to be allowed to come, I was positive, so the idea of using Bunny on my already swollen clit and sore pussy was a little horrifying at the moment.
On the other hand, I was getting this little break right now, and at least I might be able to withstand the pleasure of Bunny for a few minutes. Whereas if I had to use Bunny after yet another round of entertaining Jack with my other toy, and he still didn’t let me come…
I looked at Slim, the slender, heavy, copper-colored piece of art that was the only dildo-shaped vibrator I owned, and then at Bunny, calculating the advantages and disadvantages of each.
“Choose, or I’m choosing for you,” Jack prompted—and without thinking I reached for Slim.
“This one, Sir,” I responded uncertainly, clutching the toy to my chest. At least with Slim I could focus my attention away from my clit without raising any suspicions. I hoped.
“That one? Okay, little Katie. Show me what you got. Back to the middle of the bed with you.” He took off his tie as I slid back to the center of the king-size bed and contemplated the toy in my hand for a few seconds. “And don’t just show me, tell me. Tell me what you like doing to yourself with that toy.”
“Yes Sir. May I have some lube, Sir?”
The question took Jack by surprise, and I could see him biting his lip to keep from laughing. “So polite. Yes, of course you may have some lube, Katie.” Still struggling to put on a poker face, Jack strode over to the closet, dug in his bag for the bottle and brought it to me. “I’m prepared to be dazzled now.”
“I don’t usually turn it on right away,” I started, pleased with this sudden inspiration. I opened the flip-top on the lube and spread the heavy liquid liberally over the cool metal of the toy, coating it thoroughly. “I just play with it at first, like…” I paused to arrange myself on my back again, stifling the feeling that the whole thing was a bit too clinical. “Like this. Just teasing.” I demonstrated, sliding the slick metal over my clit, back and forth, only a few times because it was excruciating not to be able to come. And then—with a sense of relief—down to my pussy, which would normally not be quite so wet and willing at this stage of the game.
“And then I usually fuck myself with it and just sort of play with my other hand, like this.” Matching actions to words, I slid my hands into place, feeling the familiarity in my own actions, if not in this current setting. Instinctively I eased the pressure of my fingers to the bare minimum, hoping I was getting away with it, trying to ignore the tension even that much stimulation was causing.
I was doing fine holding myself back until Jack climbed up between my legs on the bed and started running a fingertip everywhere the toy wasn’t.
“You’re not really playing my game, little one. You’re hardly breaking a sweat.”
“Sir?” No, no, please, please don’t…
He bore down with the pad of his finger where I wanted it most and could take it the least, circling hard enough that it was nearly painful on the abused nerve endings there. I couldn’t help it—I gave myself away by begging him to stop.
He did, but only long enough for the threat of orgasm to pass. Then he was at it again, and again, until I was moaning and thrashing, in an agony of need, more than breaking a sweat.
Jack just smiled a cruel little smile and said, “That’s more like it.”
And then, five words that sounded like a death knell. “Now—turn that thing on.”
I know I wept but I did as I was told, scrabbling frantically until I found the control and then sobbing as the toy leapt to life inside my pussy. I tried to stroke it in and out of myself as I had earlier, but even a half-dozen strokes had me practically flinching away from it. Usually Slim wasn’t quite thick or buzzy enough on his own to do the job without a lot of extra help from my hand. But this time it was too much, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, I had to—until Jack pushed my hands away, slid the vibrator out of me and just looked at it thoughtfully before turning it off and tossing it carefully to one side.
“I have great plans for that toy. Later, though.”
I couldn’t answer, just lie there trying to catch my breath, trying desperately to think myself to some place where my nerves weren’t screaming for relief. Wherever that place was, it wasn’t in the hotel suite, that much was clear. Jack had an evil gleam in his eye and I shuddered at what he might be thinking of. Only one toy left.
“Only one toy left, little one. I’m wondering why you saved it for last. Is it the best one?” He held up the stubby little bunny-headed wand and turned it on, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected power
of the vibration. “Oh my. That is a special bun-bun. You’ve been holding out on me. I bet he’s probably not your favorite right now though, is he, pet?”
“No Sir!” I replied instantly and adamantly. And very foolishly, I thought a moment later, because I’d just revealed a weakness, and Jack already knew enough of my weaknesses as it was. “He’s…he’s not really my favorite anyway, Sir.” It sounded weak, even to me. And I could tell right away that Jack wasn’t buying it.
“Just for that I should make you use it until you’re screaming. But I think I’ll still give you this choice. You demonstrate the bunny right now, or you get to take a break first while I warm up your butt with my hand—extra hard for lying just now. But mainly just because I feel like it.” He rose from the bed and was already rolling up his sleeves—he obviously knew which option I was going to choose. The new cufflinks were deposited neatly on the bedside table.
“The spanking, please. Sir.” I sounded as miserable as I was, and Jack looked insufferably pleased with himself.
“Oh, hearing you actually ask for it is priceless, pet. Just priceless.”
I wasn’t expecting him to jump onto the bed and drag me, automatically struggling a bit, to the edge. He sat and slung me over his knee, still startled and kicking, and dropped a rapid-fire series of smacks on the meat of one buttock before I could even get my bearings. Hard enough at first—his hands were so large, they made a lot of contact—and then ramping upward, a slow crescendo of pain and stimulation.
I tried to adjust my position a few times, to angle myself higher over his thigh, craving the pressure against my clit even though I knew it was a bad idea. But he kept me too firmly pinned down, as if he knew my motive and was actively thwarting it. The spanking itself was already more stimulation than I could take, with Jack’s occasional stray blows against my upturned pussy lighting every nerve ending on fire, keeping me too aware of my arousal to let it subside.
At last, when every inch of my ass felt like it was on fire and I was aching along the still-livid paddle stripe despite his avoiding any direct blows to it—he really was mostly a spanko at heart, I thought, as no sadist worth the name would have passed up that opportunity—he dropped his hand to my pussy and patted the tender flesh with a happy sigh. My throat was sore from sobbing, from begging him to stop, but not as sore as my sex, which seemed to be begging him for more, for anything.
When Jack grabbed one fiery-red cheek and squeezed hard, I could only whimper at the lingering pain.
“I could do that all night, little one. You are just so spankable. Really.”
“Thank you, Sir.” My voice sounded weak and shaky, just like my legs when Jack moved me off his lap and leaned over to pat the middle of the bed, indicating I should return there. With no energy left for grace. I flopped onto my stomach and clutched at the sheet spasmodically as if clinging to it for some sort of comfort.
“I don’t think that’s how you usually lie in bed when you’re playing with your bunny friend, little Katie. Is it?”
“Nooooo!” I cried. “Please, no, I can’t, Sir. Please!”
“Wow. You’re asking the wrong person, pet. Now get on your back and spread your legs for me like the good little slut I know you are.” He waited for me to comply before continuing. “Just for me, of course. My own personal little porn princess. Who is now going to demonstrate just what she likes to do with this. Her favorite toy.” And he pressed Bunny into my hand and turned on the vibrator.
With a feeling of impending doom, I raised the toy to one of my nipples, my back arching involuntarily when the soft, buzzing ears brushed the already rock-hard peak.
“You’re just aching, aren’t you, little one? Even thinking about those bunny ears touching your clit is painful right now, I’ll bet. Tell me what you want.”
A ray of hope. Jack was unbuttoning his shirt, shucking it off, slipping his trousers past his hips.
“I want to come, please, I need to, Sir! I can’t stand it anymore, please, please let me come, please…”
“It’s a long drive tomorrow, Katie. Might be entertaining to watch you squirm around for an hour and a half on that bumpy road. Sore butt, keyed up. Sort of how I like you, you know.”
“No, please, no! Sir, please, please!” The horror in my voice was evident, as was the humor on Jack’s face at my dilemma. He was naked now, and his cock jutted almost straight out from his hips, bobbing gently as he stalked to the side of the bed. “Please…”
My vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to a handful of goal-oriented words. They filled up the parts of my mind that could still handle language at all, the parts that didn’t feel ready to short-circuit from sensual overload. Yet my hands were still working, slipping the bunny ears around and over my nipples, trying to postpone the inevitable moment when Jack would decide I’d stalled long enough.
“Put the toy down,” he said instead. “Turn it off, put it down.”
I almost threw it away from me, I was so happy to just get to stop, even if it was only a short respite.
“And now don’t move. Not a muscle. I want to hear you, but I don’t want you moving, understand me, pet? Stay.”
“Yes Sir, I understand…” I followed his progress onto the bed with my eyes, keeping my hands in loose fists up by my shoulders, my legs splayed open like a bendy doll that somebody’s thirteen-year-old brother has gotten hold of. Jack dipped his head and took Bunny’s place at my breasts, nuzzling and licking from one to the other for some time. It was almost bearable. The near-pain of over-arousal was starting to subside to a dull roar in my crotch, an ache I could live with, although every so often a flick of Jack’s tongue would set off a twinge, a reminder that he wasn’t through with me yet. But still, I started to relax under his ministrations until my impulse was no longer to shrink away but to curl into him, curve my fingers into his hair to draw him closer.
Remaining still got truly difficult when Jack started wending his way downward, as slowly as only a man who had already had one explosive orgasm that evening could go. By the time he reached my navel, I was breathing hard again. When he started pressing kisses across my pubic bone, the breathy whining started. I was just aware enough to know what was coming, where his mouth was headed, but too overwhelmed to brace myself for it in any meaningful way. Just a quivering, moaning piece of putty in Jack’s hands.
But once again he defeated my expectation, this time by sliding forward again, pressing his lips to mine in a lazy, tender kiss, and slipping inside me in a slow, halting progression. He was taking his weight on his elbows, taking care not to grind against me, in this seemingly simple act of sex that was more excruciating than any beating he might have cared to give.
Excruciating but exquisite, and I think if he’d asked me my own name just then I wouldn’t have been able to reply with anything but, “Yours.”
He pushed my legs a little higher—more penetration for him, less stimulation for me—and gave me one more lingering, sweet kiss, soft lips and a gentle tongue playing with mine. Pulling back a bit, he looked at me in the half-light of the room. He was there, totally absorbed in the moment, totally absorbed in me—and it was breathtaking. Everything he did, everything he was, took my breath away, and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to breathe again unless he told me I could.
I was barely aware when he picked up his pace, pumped harder and faster for just a few beats before crying out softly at his climax. I’d gotten lost in the world of what he wanted, which was for me to not come and to be still and to let him do what he would. And he did. And even if I knew the feeling wouldn’t last, at that moment all that mattered in the world to me was that Jack had been able to do what he wanted, because I had done as he told me to.
Simple. As simple as brainwashing, as simple as the place where psychology and philosophy meet…as simple as love.
Chapter Twenty-One
Among the various opportunities that Rio and environs offer the casual visitor, one of the few I do not recommend—othe
r than the beach, that is—is bouncing around on increasingly rough roads, going up and down mountains in a vintage Mercedes with stiff suspension while trying to coddle a bruised ass and an unsatisfied libido at the same time.
There was absolutely no comfortable way to sit. And Jack knew it. He made small talk with his friend Mario and pointed out sights as if there wasn’t this simultaneous, unspoken conversation going on between us the whole time. Knowing that he knew, and having to smile and try to be charming and make a good first impression on Jack’s best friend, and seem suitably appreciative of each successive natural wonder in its turn, was all nearly unbearable.
But I bore it, of course. Although there was a certain point, going down the very long and barely paved asphalt road to Mario’s house, that I thought if I sat just right the vibration of the car might be enough…
“Kate,” said Jack, leaning over the back of the seat to where I sat in the front, next to his friend. “Can you reach that camera bag for me? I left it right down by your feet.” And after leaning down to get the bag, which hadn’t made an appearance before this afternoon but had evidently been stowed in Jack’s large suitcase, I sat back up but had lost my momentum entirely. We arrived at Mario’s house just a few minutes later, and I don’t think anybody ever felt more eager to stretch their legs than I did upon getting out of that car.
We had seen some extraordinary views though. Higher and farther into the mountains, away from the shoreline, the forest grew thicker and wilder and was teeming with wildlife that our eager eyes catalogued during the drive. Once off the major roads, Mario had been able to point out creatures and trees, elements of the rainforest landscape that I had only dreamed of seeing up close in the wild. A pair of golden lion tamarins, for instance, squabbling or playing back and forth along the branch of a type of tree I didn’t know. And the silence was astonishing in itself. We stopped to take a longer look at a particularly scenic drop-off where the shoulder of the road was just wide enough to park the car, and there was only the soft hum of the jungle behind and below us. Not the city, not the ocean, not anything that might make a sound louder than the wind in the trees and the occasional distant call of a bird or beast.
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