by Ann Jacobs
What she saw there terrified her. Excited her. Made her want to jump overboard and swim for her freedom and long to beg Him never to let her go.
“What do you say, slave? I don’t care if you wear my collar when we’re not alone. But I want you to wear my ring.”
“I–I do. Already.” The delicious tingling in her clit reminded her of the little ring that now dangled between her inner labia.
He laughed. “The one I’m talking about is about as vanilla as it comes. It goes on your finger, where everyone can see.”
When “yes” threatened to spill from her open mouth she clamped it closed over the bulging head of His cock and manipulated His PA ring with her tongue. Oh, how she wanted Him. But the idea of becoming His slave in every facet of her life terrified her.
As she had more than once in the nearly twenty years since she’d figured out that she needed a man with the balls to force her to subservience in her sexual relationships, Sandra forced herself to remember her childhood. She pictured her cowed, timid mother who never had dared even plan a meal without taking her dad’s preferences into consideration. And she renewed the vow she’d made so long ago to take her sexual pleasure where she found it without handing over her whole being to a dictator—however benevolent he might be.
“Well?”
From Rocky’s tone Sandra guessed His lust apparently was building with every vibration her tongue carried onto His swollen flesh. She also gathered He expected more of a response than her enthusiastic licking and sucking of that flesh when He reached down and gave a not too gentle tug to her hair.
“You want us to…” She dared not even mouth the word marriage, but that was what a ring seemed to imply. “…live together?”
“What I want is for us to get married, but I’ll settle for living together. For now. We were good friends before yesterday, and we’re sure as hell sexually compatible.” Rocky slipped his hands inside her robe, lifted her, and cupped her breasts. “I can hardly wait for your pretty clit to heal so I can suck on it and drive you as crazy as you’re making me now. Say yes, baby.”
God help her. She didn’t know.
Rocky was her Master. Her friend. The most exciting lover she’d ever had. In her heart, she wanted to say yes, and every cell in her sensitized cunt emphatically agreed. But then she remembered how her mom and dad had lived and her own vow. A little voice in her head screamed no, that she might be a man’s slave, but she’d never become his doormat.
“I don’t…” Damn it, why couldn’t He just order her to do his bidding now? After all, He forced her to fuck and suck and service Him and—and He made her come over and over again, harder and hotter than she’d ever come before.
“Can’t make up your mind, baby?”
“I…I–no. No, Master,” she amended, bracing herself for the punishment she’d earned by that omission.
“I told you I’ll never hurt you. Your only punishment if you don’t say yes will be losing this.” He pulled her close, nudged her with his steely erection.
“You mean—you mean you don’t want to keep me as your slave if we don’t live together all the time?”
“I want you. As my friend and lover all the time. As my sex slave when we make love because that turns you on as much as it does me. And believe me when I say I get off by turning you on.” He lowered one hand, sampled the hot throbbing dampness of her pussy. “You can’t deny it. You’re on fire now, just thinking about getting back on your knees and sucking me dry. Or spreading those pretty legs and wringing my cock out with your tight, wet cunt.”
No, she couldn’t deny that. Not when every cell in her body demanded His cock and a steady stream of her love juice kept slithering down her inner thigh. And not while her nipples ached to feel the pain and pleasure His teeth and tongue could provide.
“N-no, Master,” she said, hating her body’s weakness, her inability to say either yes or no. “You know I’m your willing sex slave—but as to a full-time relationship, I need time to think.”
“Three weeks. You’ve got three weeks to make up your mind. But remember, if your answer’s no, we’re through. After today, you won’t see me again until your time’s up. I want you to think about what we’ve got here…” He stroked her swollen clit ever so gently. “And what we’ll both be missing if your answer’s no.”
A reprieve. Three weeks to think. To hold onto her control and steel herself to give up the incredible pleasures Rocky coaxed from her reluctant body. “Thank you, Master,” Sandra murmured, lowering her gaze to His still-rampant cock. “May I take You in my mouth again, please?”
“Oh, yeah. Feel free, baby. Anything that makes you feel good.” Rocky had a few hours left with her, and he intended to make the most of them. After all, he’d just committed himself to three long weeks of celibacy, gambling that she’d miss the sex too much to turn down the rest. “Just let me anchor the boat away from the shipping channel, and we’ll make this a mutual fuckfest.”
* * * * *
He’d explored every inch of her, nibbled her toes and fingers and made her sample every nook and cranny of His smooth, hard-muscled body. The sensual feel of Him rubbing his tongue on the back of her knees had damn near made her come and shocked her with the wildly erotic sensation that simple act aroused.
Her hair, a tool her old master had used to control her, became an instrument of sensual pleasure when He dug His fingers through it and caressed erogenous zones on her scalp that she’d never before realized were there. His purr of apparent bliss when she’d returned the favor made her want to be bare there, too, so she might experience that ultimate delight.
She’d sucked His balls, soothed the raw spots left by His jockstrap with her tongue. His huge cock had filled her mouth, her ass, even her cunt—though He’d been ever so gentle there as if he’d feared hurting her newly pierced clit.
He’d come and she’d come, and they’d come together more times than Sandra could count. And this time He hadn’t inflicted the slightest bit of pain.
It had definitely been a fuckfest meant to hold them both for three long weeks. Still pleasantly aroused two weeks and five days after Rocky had docked Neptune’s Dungeon and driven her back to her lonely condo, Sandra’s greedy pussy throbbed with the agony of wanting Him. Wanting to acknowledge His ownership—their relationship—yet not quite believing she could take Him as Master in every way without losing her personal identity altogether, she’d spent twenty-one long nights debating the issues with herself.
Maybe she’d read Mom and Dad’s relationship wrong. The more she’d considered that, the more Sandra came to believe it was simply her mother’s tentative personality that had made her defer to Dad—not fear that if she hadn’t, Dad would have taken any sort of retribution. She couldn’t imagine Rocky wanting to dictate what they’d eat or where they’d go, unless the food or trip in question had some sexual connotation.
She hadn’t slept for wanting to submit to Rocky’s hard body, His monster cock. More important, she’d spent her days hoping for a glimpse of His smiling face and missing the easy companionship they’d enjoyed before becoming lovers. Sandra didn’t just want her Master. She loved Him.
Maybe. No, not maybe. Sandra had gone and fallen in love with her Master, so deeply she was ready to risk losing herself if that’s what it took to be His slave.
His wife? That, too, if marriage was what He really wanted. Sandra shut off the computer on her desk and lifted the phone. She’d let Rocky know, end the misery of being separated from Him.
Suddenly she felt queasy, so she set the phone down. For the past few days her stomach had been rebelling every afternoon about this time, yet another phenomenon she attributed to the turmoil He’d set off in her mind. She’d call Rocky later. Now she needed to calm her stomach.
Andi would be here any minute to discuss the order they’d be calling witnesses for the Barnes trial next week. Maybe, if Sandra sat very still, she could avoid…
No such luck. She barely made i
t to the ladies’ room before heaving her guts out. When there was finally nothing left to come out and she emerged from the stall, there was Andi, looking concerned.
“Are you okay? You damn near ran me over in the hallway outside your office.”
“It’s nothing,” Sandra said weakly. “Just a touch of stomach flu.”
The younger woman looked unconvinced. “Have you been to the doctor?”
“No need. It’ll pass.”
“If you say so. We can put off going over the witness list—”
Sandra must have looked even worse than she felt to merit such concern from her colleague, so she glanced in the wavy mirror. “I do look green, don’t I? I’ll be okay now, though. This seems to come on about the same time every day. I throw up, and then I feel fine until the next day. Strange.”
“Not strange if you’re pregnant. The first couple of months I was carrying Brett, I got sick like clockwork, ten o’clock in the morning, every morning.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Sandra said. “Come on back to my office and let’s get those witnesses sorted out so we can enjoy the weekend.”
* * * * *
Pregnant. How freaking ridiculous could Andi be? Sandra thought as she drove home from work that night.
But was she? She recalled her gynecologist taking her off the Pill six months ago and fitting her for the diaphragm she’d inserted three weeks earlier at her Master’s command. Thinking back beyond the incredible sex they’d shared, she tried to remember. Had Rocky used a condom that first time? She thought He had. Every other time they made love she’d had the diaphragm in place.
Then she remembered his PA ring. It certainly couldn’t have split her diaphragm. Could it?
No. Sandra told herself she couldn’t be pregnant from one weekend of sex, no matter how hot the sex had been. She’d even replaced the spermicide after every bout of fucking.
Once is all it takes, Sandy. Besides, good girls save their cherry for their husbands. Her mother’s long-ago warnings, repeated so many times they’d stuck in her head for more than twenty years, rang out in Sandra’s ears. It was that first admonition that reverberated—the second one she’d tossed out as female subjugation propaganda years ago.
“Oh, hell.” There was one way to put that unlikely conclusion as to her sudden nausea to rest. Braking carefully, Sandra pulled in at the neighborhood supermarket and picked up an early pregnancy test along with her milk and bread.
Waste of money, she decided once she got home and dragged the little box into the bathroom. She’d wait, and unless she got sick again tomorrow, she’d return it to the store unopened.
The following afternoon she sat at the vanity in her bathroom, the bitter taste of vomit still in her mouth as she stared at the shockingly clear pale blue lines on all three pregnancy tests. Those lines indicated, according to the instructions on the box with the cute baby face on it, that she was about to become a mother—an unwed mother at that—at the advanced age of thirty-eight.
Could the test be wrong? Yes. That was it. She’d call her gynecologist and… Oh, shit. No way was she going to show off her shaved pussy and Rocky’s clit ring that even now had her creaming her panties every time she wiggled her butt on the vanity chair. Not when this test’s accuracy rate was touted as close to a hundred percent. And not when three of them had come up with the same alarming results.
Idiot! You’ll have to bare your pussy to the doctor soon enough. Get tests and vitamins and maybe something to stop the damn throwing up. But Sandra didn’t have to do that immediately. What she had to do now was make up her mind. No, she had to tell Rocky that He’d made her pregnant.
Pregnancy. According to her old master, it was the sure cure for an overactive sex drive and a word he’d ordered her never to utter in his presence. He’d told her once that if she ever got knocked up, she’d get rid of it unless she wanted to get rid of him.
Rocky might feel the same. But somehow Sandra didn’t think He’d demand she get rid of the baby. She wouldn’t do that even if He ordered her to, she realized as she stared at the picture of the smiling infant on the box.
Oh God, Sandra didn’t want to lose Him now, when she realized how much she loved Him. But she didn’t want to lose this miracle child she’d never expected, either. She couldn’t even consider destroying His baby. Padding across her bedroom, she sat gingerly on the bed and picked up the phone.
“Rocky, I’m…” Damn, she couldn’t tell him on the phone. “…I need you. Please, Master.”
“I’ll be right over, baby.”
Sandra figured she had ten minutes, tops, to transform herself from a heap of quivering Jello to the calm, collected, together woman she wanted Him to see.
Chapter Six
His cock throbbing with anticipation, Rocky clutched the bouquet of red roses that had set him back forty bucks at the neighborhood supermarket and used his free hand to lift the brass knocker on Sandy’s door. Anybody who saw him would certainly have laughed at the silly grin he knew must have been splitting his ugly mug from ear to ear.
Sandy needed him. So much she’d broken down and called him a day before her time was up. So much it sounded as if she’d been about to lose it when she called.
But seeing the solemn, wary look on her face when she let him in sent chills down his spine. Her expression carried no joy, no excitement—no anticipation of the hot lovemaking he’d planned to seal a forever promise.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked when she led him not to her bedroom but into the untouched and untouchable living room he’d hated from the moment she let him in her private space. Not even the brilliant red of the roses or the bright green florist wrap around their stems lent much cheer to the sterile looking end table where he’d laid them down.
She stared out the window, her rigid back to him. “I’m pregnant. I didn’t intend to be, but y-You have the right to know.” She paused, as if to catch her breath before more words tumbled from her mouth, faster than before. “Of course You don’t have to do anything…I don’t expect You to. I’ll take care of it, but I won’t get an abortion.”
Abortion? The very thought that she thought he’d want her to get one snapped him out of what admittedly had been a fine case of initial shock. “Hold on a minute. What the hell makes you think I’d ask you to do that?”
She turned, her posture like that of a soldier at parade rest. “We didn’t plan this. It’s not as if a baby fits in with our—Your—lifestyle.”
“If your lifestyle has to change, baby, mine will, too. Because we’re in this together. You can forget any idea you may have gotten about ditching me. Go dry your eyes and put some going-out clothes on. You’re about to go meet my mom and dad, because I’ve got my grandma’s ring at their house and I want to put it on your finger.“
”Wait. I didn’t say I’d—”
“You don’t have to. My kid’s inside you, and he’s going to have two parents who’re together for him—and for each other.” Reaching out, Rocky grasped Sandra’s arms and drew her close. “Feel my cock. It’s already hard and throbbing to make you come. Feel how much I need you. Don’t you love me just a little?”
She buried her face against his shoulder, and he thought he felt her tension easing. “Damn it. I love you a lot. I’m just afraid—afraid there won’t be anything left of me. Don’t want to end up like my mom, too cowed to buy a roast instead of a Christmas turkey unless Daddy gives his blessing.”
“The only place I want your unconditional submission is in bed. Or on the boat, or in the shower, or wherever we get the urge to get it on. Whatever you do about your job is up to you, and I couldn’t care less what you serve me to eat as long as you give me free access to your gorgeous mouth and breasts and pussy.”
* * * * *
They’d had to stay for dinner with his parents after he put his grandmother’s old-fashioned diamond ring on her finger, and Rocky had insisted on stopping by to give her family their news in person. Sandra’s cheeks grew w
arm when she remembered her mother’s shock at Rocky’s announcement that they’d be providing the family with another grandchild before too long.
You’re old enough to know better, girl. Too old to be having a baby, too.
Her mother had quickly recovered after making those hurtful pronouncements and offered her good wishes–but the initial reaction had stung and Mom’s words still rang in Sandra’s ears.
“What’s going through that clever mind of yours?” Rocky asked once they’d done the family thing and returned to her condo—and the bedroom where they’d revealed their respective needs and made love for the first time.
She couldn’t begin to sum up all the conflicting emotions bubbling around in her brain—love and desire, certainty and doubt. Abject fear that this dream match would turn into a nightmare. All she could do was shake her head and try to smile, hoping He was right and that they could build on friendship and the lust that had them both locked in its steely grip.
The lust was stronger than ever, it seemed, because her clit tingled when she sat on the bed and started taking off her clothes, reminding her how she’d been dreaming of Him playing with the jewel he’d had put there. “I’m thinking You might want to check out the other ring You gave me, Master. And that You might allow Your personal sex slave to play with Yours.”
“Undress and lie on the bed,” He said, watching her comply while he dispensed with his shirt. Her mouth watered at the sight of His hard, powerful chest and abs, as tanned and glowing and satiny smooth as the skin covering His perfectly shaped skull. The single stud in his ear glittered in the lamplight, calling her attention to His strong jaw…and dark eyes soft with desire when He met her gaze.
He was a beautiful man, a strong, dominant male. Dark like her, yet with features that needed nothing to enhance them. “If you let your hair grow—”