by Parker Grey
Because I like being in control. I like torturing her like this. I like almost giving her what she wants and making her beg me for more, and more than anything I like the slow, hard pleasure that I get from it, the near-orgasmic thrill of doing this to her.
Belle cries out, clenching around me. Her wrists pull against her cuffs, her hands in fists. She’s standing on her toes, rocking backwards as much as she can, absolutely desperate to take all of me. When I’m finally hilted, I reward her by grabbing her hair, pulling her head back and leaning over her as she moans and shudders.
“You like being mine?” I growl as I rock inside her, sending a shiver through her muscles.
“Yes,” she moans.
I pull her hair a little harder, grind our bodies together as I grit my teeth, her pussy gripping me tight. Already my balls are tightening, the hard lightning gathering in the pit of my stomach.
“You like being spanked, tied up, and fucked, Belle?”
“Yes,” she moans again, her pussy clenching me even harder. I suck in a breath.
“Good,” I tell her, my lips against her ear. “Because I’ve got another surprise for you.”
With that, I pull out and slam myself into her again, rocking her whole body forward, the air escaping her lungs in a rush as she shout-moans, and it feels so fucking good that I do it again, just to listen to the pure, perfect noises she makes.
I nearly lose control of myself, fucking Belle like that. I fuck her hard, mercilessly, holding onto her hair and using it as leverage, her pussy gripping me, her channel wet and slick and tight and completely fucking perfect.
Every time I hit the right spot she moans again, louder and louder, her muscles trembling and fluttering around my cock as I fuck her closer to climax. I’m growling too, a noise like rocks grinding together coming from somewhere deep in my chest.
“Harder,” Belle moan-whispers. “Please.”
I sink myself into her one last time, then bend my head to hers. She can’t move, bound hand and foot, my hand pulling back her head, but she’s trembling with pleasure, the dam about to burst.
“No,” I tell her, licking the shell of her ear.
“Please.”
I bite her ear, cock deep inside her, consumed with need for her.
“I told you,” I growl. “I have a surprise.”
And with that I pull out, walk to a side table, open a drawer, and pull out Belle’s surprise.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Belle
I’m frozen in anticipation, holding my breath as Julian pulls out of me, leaving me naked and bound on this… whatever it is, disappointment prickling through my veins.
Come back, I nearly beg.
Come back and fuck me, it’s all I want, it’s all I need…
But I can already hear his footsteps returning, and then there he is, one hand gripping my ass tightly, the skin still tender and raw where he flogged me.
“Relax,” he growls, and I force my muscles slack, forehead dropping onto the bench as he grips me even harder, making me bite my lip.
“What are you doing?” I gather the courage to whisper.
“Asking you to trust me,” he says, his voice low and laced with gravel. “Do you, Belle?”
I suck in a long, deep breath, because I know that the answer should be no.
He’s kidnapped me, locked me up, dragged me back when I tried to escape. He’s practically made me into his sex slave — willing sex slave, but still — and I don’t know if he’ll ever let me go.
Despite all that, there’s something about Julian. Some deep part of me recognizes a deep part of him, some connection we have, just the two of us.
Something that makes me more than willing to bend over strange furniture and beg him to do things to me that I never thought I’d do.
“Yes,” I whisper, my answer total honesty. “I trust you.”
Julian doesn’t answer, but he slides one finger down the cleft between my buttocks, and I hold my breath as the fingertip settles right over my tender, puckered back hole.
“I said relax,” he murmurs.
I try. I really do, but I’ve never done this before — never even been touched there — and I have to force my muscles to slacken, let Julian do what he wants to me.
His finger circles the hole, slippery with something, and then he pushes inside me just slightly.
I gasp, body tensing.
“Relax,” he whispers, and I force myself to do it again as his finger moves deeper.
Julian moves slowly, gently, and after a moment the strange invasion feels good. Dirty, bad, and wrong, yes, but good despite all that, and before I know it I’m moaning, bucking backward, pushing my hips toward him and wanting more.
He chuckles, his voice deep.
“There’s my filthy little girl,” he says.
Then there are two fingers, my tight hole stretched a little wider, and I resist at first but then give into pleasure again, whimpering into the leather.
“That feels good,” I whisper.
“You like having me in your ass, Belle?”
I bite my lip and nod, cheek rubbing against leather as he pushes his fingers deeper, making me moan even louder. My pussy is practically a waterfall, juices rolling from my lips down the inside of my thigh again, and while his fingers are still in my ass, I can feel Julian lift the head of his cock to my wet entrance, pushing apart my lips.
I tense again, fists clenching because I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think I can fit him in my ass and pussy all at once, there’s just no room—
But then his thick, massive cock slides inside me again and fireworks go off in front of my blindfolded eyes, the pleasure shuddering and sparking through my whole body as he fucks me in both holes at once and I nearly scream.
Julian groans, hilting himself hard, making me moan again as his hips slap against mine, hitting every pleasure spot inside my body.
I lose track of time. I don’t even know where I am or what I’m doing, I’m just lost to pure, utter sensation as he fucks me, faster and faster and harder and harder, our flesh smacking together, the welts on my body stinging in perfect pleasure and pain.
I moan. I scream. I nearly go over the edge again and again, no longer in my body but floating somewhere above it, but every single time Julian slows down until I’m back, then resumes his onslaught of me.
I can barely stand anymore. I think I’m crying, tears flowing down my blindfolded face, but I don’t care because every single time, I think he’s about to let me come and then he doesn’t. Every thrust is pure, exquisite torture.
Then he stops. His cock is deep inside me, but he pulls his fingers out, caresses my ass.
“No,” I whimper. “Please sir, don’t stop, I need you to fuck me until I come, I need to come with you inside me…”
“Shh,” he whispers, and instantly something is pressing against my asshole again.
I gather all my strength and stand on my toes, pressing backward, begging for it and Julian slides the object in until I gasp.
It’s bigger than his fingers, thicker and wider, harder. With his enormous cock already inside me I feel like I’m being stretched to my limit, unable to take any more.
“I can’t,” I whimper. “It’s too big, I can’t…”
“Relax,” he growls, his other hand sliding down my back. “It’s almost in, I promise.”
Once more I force my muscles slack, my whole body shaking, and suddenly it’s in, something else snug against the outside of my asshole, and I moan at the sudden pleasure spike that flows through my body.
“Oh, God,” I moan, bucking back against him again, trying to move his cock inside me against my pleasure zones. “Please, God…”
He does. With no warning, Julian slams into me again, fucking me deep and hard, his cock also pushing against the object in my ass.
This time I do scream, and then I’m lost. I can hear someone moaning and begging to be fucked and I think it’s me, but I’m just spiral
ing up and up into the sky, coming so hard that I might never fall back down to earth.
I’m so lost that I’m barely even aware of Julian grabbing me by the hips, his rough fingers digging in, slamming himself into me so hard I might bruise. He roars as he comes, filling me up with thrust after thrust, claiming me and making me his.
He pulls out almost instantly as soon as he’s finished, leaving me breathless and still bound to whatever it is I’m chained to. Shockwaves are still moving through my whole body, and I feel like the skin where I was flogged is sizzling with pleasure and just a little bit of pain.
I can’t catch my breath. I can’t even think straight, I’m just here in this moment, only knowing what’s happening right now. I can’t think about the future or even what happens in five minutes. There’s nothing but the present, the leather under my body, around my wrists, the slow, sticky leak of semen from my vagina, the plug still spreading my tender back hole wider than it’s used to.
Behind me, there’s a quick zipping sound and then Julian steps next to me, running his hand up my back. He bends down, undoes the locks holding my wrist cuffs to the furniture.
I push myself up, slowly. In a flash, Julian takes the clamps off my nipples and I gasp as the blood rush back into them, protectively putting my hands over the pink nubs that suddenly feel like they’re on fire, the prickle of pleasure and pain making me bite my lip.
Julian undoes the locks around my ankle cuffs, then spins me around gently, his hands on my waist. I’ve still got the blindfold on, and I could take it off myself, but I don’t, because I still like being under his control, even in this small way.
His lips meet mine, and while earlier he was hungry, ravenous, and he kissed me like he wanted to destroy me, now it’s gentle. His tongue explores my lips, my tongue, my mouth slowly, like he’s not in a hurry anymore, taking his time.
He’s still got all his clothes on, and I run my hands down his clothed torso. I can feel the muscles under his shirt, even if I’ve never seen them. I wonder what scars he has there, why he won’t show himself completely to me.
They can’t be worse than the ones on his face, I think.
He’s blind in one eye and doesn’t bother hiding it. Why hide these?
Before I can get any further with that thought, he lifts the blindfold from my eyes, tosses it away, his one good eye and one blind eye right in front of me.
I swallow, but I don’t say anything. This moment feels too intimate, too precious for me to ruin it by saying anything.
Julian takes me by the hand, leads me out of the secret room, all without speaking.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julian
I take Belle out of my secret room. I’m still clothed and she’s totally naked, following me obediently, her hand in mine, willing and compliant. I close the bookshelf behind us, lead her to my personal bathroom, put her in the shower.
Belle’s eyes drift closed as the hot water hits her skin, and I roll up my sleeves. I wash her whole body while she stands there, still softly compliant, turning this way and that, making sure I can get every part of her body. When I’m done with that I wash her hair, rinse it thoroughly, massaging her scalp and running my fingers through the long dark brown strands.
I turn the water off, towel Belle dry. Finally, she steps onto the mat without saying a word and reaches past me, grabbing a second towel. In a flash she’s wrapped that one around her glorious hair, no longer dripping down her back, and I can’t help but laugh.
She looks surprised, then laughs with me.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about hair care,” I tell her, still drying the rest of her body.
I didn’t take the butt plug out. I want that to stay, remind her of who she is now and what she did with me.
Plus, it’s a reminder to her of things to come.
“I can tell,” she teases me softly. “You don’t even have conditioner in here.”
“I’ll have you make a list of what I’m missing,” I say, wrapping the giant, fluffy towel around her, letting my arms stay around her body for a few moments.
Belle looks at me, searchingly, like she’s got a question that she doesn’t quite know how to phrase, but she doesn’t say anything.
So I lead her back into my room, to my bed with the black silk sheets, pull them back for her. She takes the towel out of her hair, and I toss it into a hamper, take off the towel around her body, and she slides between them, pulling them around her, and looking at me sleepily.
For a long moment I just stand there, looking at her. I want to tell her that this is a first: the first time I’ve had a girl in both my dungeon and my bed, the first time I’ve come inside someone and then wanted them to stay.
“Do you have more work to do?” she asks softly, one arm over her head, her eyes blinking slowly.
“No,” I tell her, simply.
There’s work I could do, of course. I probably should be doing it, but right now, I can’t quite tear myself away from her.
I walk to the door, turning off the light switch, plunging the room into near-total darkness. I undress, tossing my clothes toward the hamper, then crawl into my bed on the other side and lie there for a moment, reveling in the strange sensation of someone else in the bed with me.
Then I roll onto my side, put my arms around Belle, and we fall asleep that way, without saying another word. I don’t even mind that her hair is still wet.
That night becomes our daily ritual for the next week: in the morning, I leave her something to wear, and when I come home, she’s waiting for me.
Once she’s in wrist and ankle cuffs that she’s locked together, once a corset and ball gag. There’s a full latex suit with the crotch cut out. There’s the day that I simply leave her with a set of ben wa balls and the instruction that she wear them until I arrive home, then present herself naked.
The butt plug stays in except for necessity and when I change it out, twice, for a slightly wider one. She moans when I do it, slowly pushing the bigger plug deeper, fucking her with it gently while she’s bound, kneeling and bent over on the bed in the secret room.
I fuck her from every angle, and she lets me. She begs me to do it, even wakes me up one morning as she slides me down her throat and I come hard into her mouth before I’m even fully awake, then flip her over and eat her out, making her scream into her pillow.
I take her on the bed, spreader bar keeping her legs wide, her wrists chained to the bedposts as she moans through a ball gag. I tie her hands behind her back and have her ride my cock while we both watch in the mirror.
I come back at lunchtime one day and surprise her, then have her bend right over the kitchen table so I can fuck her right then and there, her pussy soaking wet by the time she gets her panties down.
I know I can’t keep her here forever. I know that Belle’s got a bookstore to run, a life to get back to that doesn’t involve any of this. I know she can’t be my perfect submissive like this forever, but I can’t quite bear to let her go.
Every night we fall asleep with her in my arms. The nightmares stop. I stop dreaming all together, actually.
We spend time together outside of my suite. I take her out of the palace a few times, to the nearest tiny hamlet, and we eat dinner together just like a regular couple. We stroll through the palace’s rose gardens, we take in the sunset from the highest tower, I take her on a drive through the mountains to a perfect, pristine alpine lake I’ve been going to since I was a kid.
I let myself relax, think that everything is perfect. I let myself think that maybe I’ve found someone who I can be myself with, someone I can spank and fuck and also kiss softly in the moonlight.
Then Belle gets the phone call.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Belle
I’m taking a walk through the gardens when someone comes running up to me, holding a cell phone, completely out of breath. I’m no longer trapped in Julian’s quarters, not that I was ever really trapped there— after tha
t first night, we both knew that I was free to leave at any time.
I just chose not to.
The boy running charges up to me, gasping for breath, holds the phone out. There’s a live call on it, but I frown at the number — it’s not one I know, and I’m not sure what’s going on.
“It’s,” he gasps. “The hospital, in Inversberg—”
My heart clenches in my chest.
“—Your father—”
I whirl around, hold the phone to my ear.
“Miss Marchand?”
“Yes.”
There’s a short silence on the other end, like she’s trying to figure out how to tell me something.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your father is currently in the Intensive Care Unit,” she says, her voice steady and soft. “We believe he fell into a diabetic coma yesterday after failing to take his insulin.”
I cover my mouth so I don’t scream, but stifled sobs make their way through. I feel like someone’s punched me right in the heart, my whole body suddenly shaking.
This is my fault, I think, over and over again. While I’ve been here, he’s been all alone, and I’ve always known that he can’t keep track of time or what day it is, I should have known he’d forget…
“I’m coming,” I say, my voice breaking through ragged sobs. “Tell him I’m coming, please. Even if he’s in a coma.”
The woman clears her throat slightly.
“Of course,” she says.
I shove the phone back at the kid who brought it, turn, and race back to Julian’s quarters.
My hands are shaking as I try to unlock the door with the key Julian gave me to his quarters, and I’ve just barely got it into the lock when the door swings open and he’s standing there in all his brooding glory, a look on his face I can’t read, his one good eye and one blind eye serious.
“My father,” I choke out, standing in the doorway. “He’s sick, he’s in the hospital, it’s my fault and I need to—”