Make me Yours Evermore

by Cari Silverwood

  “Perceptive little bitch.” I slid off the bed. “Lie on your stomach, bent over the side of the bed, stretch out your arms and clasp your hands above your head.” Then I pretended I was confident she’d obey. I rummaged in the drawers and rescued my leather belt from the heap of underwear, wallet and coins. Out the corner of my eye, I watched her do exactly what I’d told her to.

  Obedience. A groundbreaking day in history. My heart rate picked up at the prospect of beating her fine ass. My cock was already halfway there.

  “Every time I see this backside, I have to roll my tongue back in.” I smoothed my hand over the sumptuous curve and couldn’t resist pinching her at the crease of her thigh then sliding my hand between her legs. “Nice. Hot.”

  “Flatterer.”

  Her cheekiness said she’d forgotten Zoe, but I couldn’t let that past me.

  Her squeak when I pinched her clit in finger and thumb was gorgeous.

  I doubled up the belt, slapped it on my leg, testing the weight, anticipating, relishing, how I would soon make her hurt. “Did you speak? No more talking.”

  “Sorry, Sir.” She shook her head, her forehead rustling against the sheets. “I…please don’t make me come.”

  I didn’t answer and only thwacked the belt on one cheek, hard enough to extract a yelp. The jiggle of flesh drew my eye. “Just count.”

  Silence, then came a quiet, resigned, “One.”

  So different. So damn different from when she arrived here. “Whatever I do, it’s my decision.” I cracked leather on her ass again, pleased at her jump and hiss, and the glorious red line already rising.

  “Two.” She wriggled.

  I could smell the leather. It would forever be associated with this, making women’s asses red, hearing their plaintive screams, and getting an instant hard-on when I really made them hurt.

  I delivered more blows, created more lines of pink – more red wheals; some went straight to purple. I watched for those hands moving but she kept them above her head, gripping each other tight. A time or two, her fists opened and closed when I’d drawn my hand back high and made that meaty crack at the intersection of leather and female skin.

  “Oh fuck. Fuck, yes.” Her whimper sounded choked, like inside her mind was unravelling.

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  I guess she liked this idea of mine. Pain had its uses.

  My headspace surged higher and higher. At times like this I was as triumphant as a climber reaching the top of Everest. I was steeped in adrenalin, my blood heated, my pulse fast, my breathing calculated.

  Kat’s back ran with sweat. Runnels of it trailed down her sides and into the cleft of her bottom. Her skin shone.

  I paused to trace some of the marks, feasting on them like a vulture with a ready meal – absorbing the shudders and little whimpers she gave out when I squeezed and played with my crisscross red and blue artwork. Her knees shifted on the rug but her hands stayed where I wanted them, and clenched. Waiting for more, waiting. She lay with her face to one side, her eyes shut tight.

  “Where are you Kat? Hurting good? Ten more?” This time when I sneaked my hand between her legs and found her wetness she only huffed out a shaky moan. “That’s what I like to hear – those sexy sounds.”

  I played some more, alternating dishing out pain, by squeezing and pinching, with touching her pussy.

  “What do you want, Kat?”

  Rhetorical question. I didn’t wait. I slipped a digit in and out her entrance. Her ass tilted, seeking my fingers. I thrust deeper, wriggled two into her entrance and used my thumb on her proud little clit. I toggled it slowly, moving her clit in circles, making it swell until it was even harder. “This is begging me. Say it. Beg me to make you come.”

  But she only circled her toes on the floor. Holding back? Not allowed.

  I nipped her shoulder, pinched her, and slapped her butt a few times.

  “Please.” She shook her head, her voice muffled by sheet. “Just beat me.”

  “You little liar. You know I can do this to you. I will do it, when I want to.”

  “Please don’t.”

  Embarrassed I could make her come? Still?

  I chuckled and stood, shook the belt out and whopped three on her ass fast and hard. Her squeals put the finishing touch on my erection and I stroked my cock as I waited. I let her wonder when the hit would come.

  I hadn’t marked the back of her thighs much, so the next six went there, then I switched up and did more on her butt. Red, blue, and hot pink. My mind buzzed. Her breathing had gone crazy staccato and she was rubbing her groin on the bed.

  After what she’d just said, this was hilarious.

  “Stop.” I squashed her onto the mattress, making the bed dip. “My job. Be still.”

  Kat sobbed and stopped writhing.

  “Good girl.” I rested my cheek on her ass, so I had a view down into the valley of her cunt, and recommenced finger fucking and pinching and slapping. On the out thrust stroke, my fingers gleamed with her arousal. I bit her ass, smiled at her muted squeal. “I can smell you.”

  Her following muttered but undecipherable words sounded dangerous.

  I kneeled behind her and parted her legs, opened her up. “Fuck your little hot cunt on me.”

  I slid two fingers in, amused at how her walls immediately clamped onto them. Such seductive heat and wetness. “Do it, Kat.”

  After burying her head in the quilt, she gingerly backed her ass onto my fingers. Shameless and in-fucking-credible – the shove of her pussy onto me, the sticky slide. Her cunt fucking grew bolder, harder, and she groaned and wriggled, squirming like a woman impaled on a spear.

  “Good girl. Now you get your reward.” I fucked her some more, rougher, deep as I could go, then switched to a thumb in her pussy and wormed a finger into her asshole in spite of her protests.

  Then I leaned in and burrowed my head between her legs, bit her thighs and lips, and used my tongue on her deeply red clit. Moaning, she stuck her ass higher, straining to get more of my mouth.

  Curving my tongue over her clit and sucking brought her swiftly to the brink. When she stiffened and the sheets shifted as if she’d wrenched a handful in close, I sucked harder, ever harder. Squealing, squirming, her thighs squashing in on my head, she came, gasping and making cute little grunts.

  When she grew quiet, I wiped her wetness from my face, flipped her onto her back and nestled up on the bed with her. Her chest heaving, Kat put her arm across her face.

  I surveyed her body, struck by the paleness on this unwritten canvas. Her little clit stood out, all pink, all tempting me. I could. I could. This was mine. I’d marked her, made her cry, made her come, but she never ever admitted I was her master. The need fired up. I rolled off the bed and went to the drawer, gathered equipment – antiseptic swab, needle receiving tube, needle, pliers, ring, and brought them to the bed.

  “You are going to stay still for me, sweet thing.” I parted her legs and put my knee up on the bed to steady myself.

  She peeked with one eye, past her arm. “Wait! I thought…”

  “Changed my mind. Doing it now. You need a reminder as to who owns you.”

  Methodically, I swabbed her clit, moving it to and fro to get into all the fleshy nooks and crannies.

  “No. Please.” Her whisper carried urgency and I could see the tension in her thighs, but…she didn’t move away.

  I took a moment to examine her, to communicate both determination and calmness. “Yes. Be still.”

  She might be super sensitive after coming, but I liked that. That evil thought sustained me for a few cock-throbbing moments. The power. The pain. The mind fuck. I had a good excuse. The more I fucked around with her the more I’d exhaust her…surely?

  The needle receiving tube looked far more fearsome then the needle itself. I held it up and let the light caress the silky smooth straight steel. Glint, baby, glint.

  Nothing held her attention more than that tube. She was rigid, sca
red, but not moving.

  “Twitch a fraction of an inch and this might go through your clit instead of the hood. Move and this will be far more painful than anything I have ever done to you. The clit has more nerves than the penis. Understand? Do not move.”

  Kat took a death grip on the sheet to either side. “Yes.” Her voice wobbled. “Be careful. Please, Sir.”

  I nodded and leaned in. I’d watched many videos on how to do this and she had what seemed normal average clit anatomy. I could do this. I hoped. Haha. That part I wasn’t saying. My cruelty had limits, apparently.

  I slid the tube under her hood and pushed up until it stretched the tissue thin where the tip met hood at the top. I ignored her whimpers and tiny flinch. Concentrate. The needle tip I poised above, on the other side of the stretched flesh. As I’d worked, her clit had shrunken a little. From fear, I supposed.

  “Going in now.” Firm and steadily, I pushed the needle through the hood and into the tube.

  “Ow, ow, ow!” Her voice hitched as I swiftly attached the ring then fed the lot through so it curved into her clit hood. I removed all the bits and used the little pliers to attach the bead. The engraved C on the ring stood out well though I supposed she’d never read it without a mirror.

  Pretty. Cute. Sexy.

  “There. Done.” I stood and stretched.

  Her hands covered her face and she looked out warily. “It is?”

  “Yes.”

  “It didn’t hurt as much as my tattoo.” She shuffled up, propping herself on her forearms, and peering down. “It’s a little ring?”

  “Yes.” I plonked myself down on the bed and splayed my palm on her stomach. “My initial is on there.” I tapped her nose then kissed her softly. Strange, the glow that now spread through me. “Mine.” My eyes felt overly wide. My self seemed so in tune with her. Like this meant more than mere jewelry. “Say, ‘I’m yours’, Kat.”

  She twisted her mouth and slowly repeated my words. “I’m yours?” There was a lilt at the end. A question mark.

  I didn’t care, because this had cemented my ownership. I’d made her part of me with this simple gesture. “Yes, you are.”

  I lay there a while, thinking, recalling a hint Andreas had dropped. About something she’d told him but not me. Now seemed a good time to ask, when she was vulnerable. It bugged me that she was holding back.

  “Andreas said there’s some secret you haven’t told me.” I shuffled up onto my elbow. “About why you were so tight when I first had sex with you.”

  “Oh. That.” She caught her lip in her teeth and I reached and took hold of that naughty sexy lip.

  “Tell. You’re not allowed to keep secrets from me. Not important ones like this. It is important, isn’t it?”

  “Umm.” Kat gulped. “Yes.” She closed her eyes. The buzz from the orgasm still softened her face.

  “Tell.” I inserted my finger into her mouth, pleased at how she automatically licked me and sucked until I pulled it out. “Tell now. Before I decide to pound you because you sucking me like that is fucking hot.”

  “Oops.” She looked at me, searching. “Okay. Okay. I…hadn’t had sex for years, not actually getting…”

  “Seriously? No penetration?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “That’s why I was so tight. You freaked me out. Erik did my head in. I couldn’t.”

  “Hmm. You should have said. You should have told me before you told Andreas. Do not keep secrets.” So this was why she’d always refused to have sex. Why she never kept a Dom or any long-term relationship. Everything made sense.

  “I’m sorry.” Her brow corrugated and I smoothed her frown with my wet finger.

  “Good. I would have been more careful if I’d known, but…” I surveyed the wonderful hills and hollows of her body and was struck again by that need to own. My cock pulsed. “Yeah. I would’ve still fucked you, but I’d have been careful.”

  She snorted but I saw a smile there still. Small but real.

  I’d give her time. Maybe that’s all we needed… We.

  When I finally picked her up and took her to the cage again, she crawled in, collapsed on her side on the sheets, and shut her eyes. Sleep seemed to come within a minute or two.

  Her peaceful, if exhausted, expression warmed me. I’d never given her pain to assuage distress. Always it had fed my sadistic streak. I felt good. Blissfully good. I gave so much to my friends like Andreas, why not her, my little slave? Light bulb moment. I did need to care for her more. Andreas had known this, days ago.

  I’d been so wrong. No matter what I’d thought and said before, I hadn’t really seen her as a person.

  I switched off the light, lay back on my bed, and stared at the moon-splashed ceiling. Dom philosophy 101. I’d better be careful. Next I’d be knitting beanies and sending them to African orphans.

  Chapter 30

  Kat

  My dreamless sleep was shattered. Bangs somewhere…on a door, sent my heart accelerating. Head up off the pillow, I listened to Chris slide from the bed and go down the hallway, and then to voices. My ass and legs hurt so much. My clit ached, reminding me his ring was there. I’d slept despite the throbbing. He’d been right. The pain had helped. It was novel to think of Chris helping me like he had.

  And strange having the clit ring – a constant memento of him. I didn’t, for once, hate him for appropriating my body. I liked it in a scary kind of way. I turned that over in my head. His?

  At that thought, a sexual thrill trickled through me from my clit and that definitely scared me. I squirmed, squeezed my thighs together, feeling the hardness of the ring near my pussy.

  Shouldn’t be thinking that. I needed to get away from him not nearer. Away. This was like a propaganda exercise. This was a trick. Only I felt ill and sad and ever so tired when I contemplated continuing this struggle against what he wanted.

  He wants me but what about what I want? I had a life, didn’t I?

  Andreas came to the bedroom doorway and seemed to listen before he unlocked my cage and ushered me toward the front door. My nakedness registered but I had no choice. I’d grown used to being exposed around the men, but he grabbed my dress from the chair and clothed me, adjusting the fall of the lace at my hips. He bestowed a kiss on my forehead.

  As we entered the small foyer, he murmured, “Sounds like you need to hear this.” He gave the hand signal and I kneeled.

  I’d never seen Scrim look flustered but now he had the crazy-eyed jittery mannerisms of someone on the edge.

  “Come on, fuckit, I need another man I can trust and you’re it.”

  He trusted Chris? Since when?

  Chris seemed unruffled, only shaking his head. “Give me a minute.”

  “We haven’t got time. Decide. With me or not. But if it’s not, you need to pack your bags and head to Brazil or somewhere fucking far away because not only will the boss not be happy, neither will the cops if these women talk to them.”

  What? I couldn’t blink. Had someone escaped? Was Zoe among them?

  “Wait. Rush me and you get nothing.” Chris turned away leaving Scrim all but grinding his teeth. He walked to us.

  “What is it?” Andreas moved so their conversation was a little private.

  “Someone may have helped the women escape. Scrim thinks so. Though they didn’t get a car, their cage got unlocked and they went over the wall. Looks like someone also put up a ladder for them. Zoe has gone too.” He glanced at me.

  Oh god. I didn’t say anything. Joy blossomed. The girl was away!

  Funny though, a second later, regret sneaked in. She was gone from my life. I even felt sadness that I’d lost a friend. How fucked up was I?

  Andreas reached down and patted my head. “Maybe they managed all that themselves?”

  “Don’t know. Scrim’s sure he has a traitor. He wants me with him.”

  “He trusts you more?”

  Chris made a doubtful face. “If I go…Scrim’s men are armed and they have some way of t
racking the girls’ collars so they have a chance of catching them. He figures they have half an hour head start, at most. One other thing – he’s guaranteed me Zoe when, if, we catch her, and he seems damned certain they will.”

  “Wow. He must need you then.”

  “I guess we have a lot at stake and he figures that makes me on his side.”

  I couldn’t stop myself though my hands shook and I bunched them in my dress. “Sir. Please. Let them go.”

  He frowned and, apart from a glance, ignored me. “If they get away, we’re stuffed Andreas. The cops would track us down. This place would be found.”

  “Yeah.” Andreas scraped his hand down his face. “Shit. We might have some time but we’d be found eventually. Trails like phone texts, DNA, I’m sure there’s witnesses to our road trip too. Things would add up.”

  “I’m sorry, mate. Never meant this to happen.”

  Scrim interjected. “Let’s stop pussying around, hey? Get your ass downstairs in five minutes. I’ve got to grab stuff and people.” He turned to go but halted and added, “This is no Disney thing. If you come, just remember these women are like bottles on a shelf. Sometimes I have to eliminate stock.” He jogged off down the stairs.

  Dread sent sharp tendrils into my blood. He’d kill the women? I half swallowed, my throat seizing up.

  Andreas slapped the wall beside his head. “Okay, he’s gone. Chris, fucking bottom line. If they start shooting at people at night, you could get injured, killed, doing this.”

  Gun. I had a gun. Despite a lack of logic, that seemed like it could lead to a solution. I backed away on my knees. “I’m feeling sick…”

  They dismissed me with hand signals. I’d never been allowed alone in the house. Ever. I fled barefoot back to the bedroom, hauled out the drawer Zoe had told me to move, and there was the steel lid set in the floor. Number pad. Handle.

  Frantic, with my stomach contents trying to arrive in my mouth, I punched in the combination to the number pad. Locked still.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Again.

  Slow down. I swallowed bile.

  Get it right this time. Punch. Punch, punch.