Contract Broken (Contracted #2)

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Contract Broken (Contracted #2) Page 12

by Aya DeAniege


  “You aren’t supposed to stop until I tell you to,” he growled.

  “But—”

  “No excuses,” he growled, striking me again.

  His hand slid around me, gripping my hip tightly as he hit me four more times.

  I hate being uneven, he knows that.

  Mr. Wrightworth’s hand slipped between my legs, pressing against me.

  “Stop,” I begged.

  His fingers worked awkwardly, but I was already on that edge. I tensed and cried out angrily as I came, my hips pressing down against Mr. Wrightworth’s hand. The man held me as my body convulsed, betraying me as I gritted my teeth and moaned at the same time.

  It didn’t feel right to come during play without permission.

  In fact, it felt hollow.

  It did nothing for me but frustrate me all the more as Mr. Wrightworth pressed tight against me.

  “Did you just come?” he asked, sounding confused.

  “Yes, Master,” I cried.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, moving around me.

  “I didn’t have permission to come,” I said.

  Mr. Wrightworth nodded slowly, his fingers trailing over my stomach. “You did try to warn me, but I suppose some discipline is necessary for not trying harder. I’m going to get the flogger now. You came so eagerly. Let’s see if you can’t come again for me.”

  “What?” I asked as he walked to the wall.

  He selected a flogger with small tails and moved back towards me, flicking it this way and that to show me how it moved. A flick of his wrist and the flogger struck me gently between the legs, causing me to jump.

  “Now I want you to come for me,” Mr. Wrightworth said with a smile. “And then I want you to come again. And again,” the man walked around me and flicked the flogger against my leg, my thighs, my lower back as he spoke. “And again. And once we’re done? I still expect you to masturbate and come for me. How would you like that?”

  I whimpered, not sure I could do what he wanted of me.

  Mr. Wrightworth grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head back, between my arms. I stared up at him as he bent and bit my throat. With a twitch, I made a small sound.

  Why is my body so hot around him?

  Perhaps if he had his way with me, I wouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Or perhaps it was the months and months of nothing.

  His teeth dug into my skin until they caused real pain. When I tried to pull away, my hair was yanked, bringing me back towards him. Mr. Wrightworth held me there for a moment before he released my throat. He placed a kiss on the skin he had bitten, then released my hair.

  Mr. Wrightworth struck my back with the same force he had used on my backside. The tails of the flogger bit into my skin, across my shoulders.

  “Should I hit you here?” Mr. Wrightworth asked, tapping my sides gently.

  “If Master wishes.”

  “No, the answer is no. That’s where your kidneys are. I shouldn’t strike you there. The velocity I like to hit you at might cause damage. Now here—” I cried out as the flogger struck my backside and thighs. “I can hit you. Spread your legs. Wider. Good, now here—” I flinched, but no strike fell. Mr. Wrightworth chuckled behind me, then flicked the flogger between my legs gently.

  He moved around me and flicked again.

  I trembled and tugged at the manacles.

  “What do you want, Darling?” he asked, flicking me between my legs again. “Tell me, or I will strike you hard. What do you want?”

  I shook my head, “I don’t want to answer.”

  “Ah, me, my cock,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “You want me inside of you, is that it?”

  “I’m not—”

  Mr. Wrightworth grabbed me by the throat and pulled me as close as the chain would let me move, then he stepped towards me to bridge the gap between us. The man’s lip curled up in a snarl, the sound of it made me struggle and try to pull away.

  Anyone would have been afraid of the animalistic sounds Mr. Wrightworth made when he was angry.

  “Right now you are my sub. You don’t get to think. You answer. Do you want my cock inside of you?”

  “Yes, Master,” I said.

  It didn’t make me feel happy to say it. I knew where the two of us stood, I knew what our relationship was and would never ask that of him.

  “Maybe if you’re good to me and tell me the truth at all times, you can earn it.”

  I whimpered and met those hazel eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was lying, but he had never lied to me before. My breath hitched in my throat as his hand tightened ever so slightly.

  “I’m going to untie you and take you to the spanking bench,” he said. “We didn’t agree to the how before. Now I’m telling you the how. I will release you, and you will stand here, looking forward. When I am ready, I will come back to you and blindfold you. Then I will drag you there by your hair, understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I stood as he released me and then walked away. Not knowing what he was doing, I tried not to shift uncomfortably. I heard him approach and saw the blindfold coming down, so I closed my eyes. The blindfold was tied in place, and Mr. Wrightworth pressed tight against me.

  “Green, yellow, or red?” he asked.

  “Green,” I said.

  “That’s what I thought, most are at yellow by now. Obviously, I’m not trying hard enough.”

  Mr. Wrightworth grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged me backward. I stumbled, almost falling as I fought to keep my feet under me. Mr. Wrightworth pulled me towards the spanking bench.

  The motion of falling backward stuck with me, I felt as if I was falling as he continued to pull me. I was afraid that I would fall and my hair would come out in his hand. My hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to support myself as he dragged me back to my feet and slammed me into the spanking bench.

  The air whooshed out of me. I struggled to breathe as Mr. Wrightworth physically moved my body onto the bench and strapped me in.

  The spanking bench was a great deal like Nathaniel’s ottomans and served the same purpose. My hands were tied to the front, I was stretched across the padded top and knelt on the padded step. There were also manacles by the step to bind my knees to the back so that my legs were spread and every bit of me was presented to Mr. Wrightworth.

  “Oh,” he said. “I almost forgot. Tell me. What do you think of this?”

  Something pressed against me. I struggled against my bonds, not understanding what was going on. My underwear was on, so it couldn’t have been one of his toys. There was nothing on Mr. Wrightworth’s wall shaped like the almost rounded item that was touching me.

  Not being able to see was annoying.

  And then he turned it on.

  I cried out and writhed as that oh so familiar vibration sprang to life. Mr. Wrightworth hadn’t just purchased a vibrator. He found the same one that Nathaniel had used on me.

  Each type of vibrator has a different sort of feel to it, and that particular toy was very distinct.

  He held it against me as I shuddered and tried to get away.

  Mr. Wrightworth struck my back with the crop while maintaining contact with the vibrator. The pain mixed with pleasure confused me. He moved the toy off and struck me again with the crop.

  Then the toy returned.

  He bent down, his voice and hot breath at my ear as the toy buzzed against me.

  “Come for me, Darling.”

  He’s been practising a great deal more than just kissing.

  My whole body twinged in reaction. I almost obeyed, crying out through gritted teeth when I couldn’t.

  “That’s it, Darling, come for me,” he whispered.

  The blessed release a moment before orgasm is probably my favourite feeling. That plateau where the whole world melts away, and there’s absolutely nothing that exists except that moment in time. Every bit of me is flooded by a tingle so intense that it almost feels cold.

  Being tied to the spanking bench, wit
h Mr. Wrightworth’s relentless ministrations, was the first time I consciously recall being in that place.

  And then I tumbled over that edge.

  The vibrator stayed in place a moment more, then pulled away.

  “Have to ask, not an expert,” he grumbled.

  “I came.”

  “Good, easier to tell with males, but I think I’ve got the physical response down now,” he said, moving away. “That’s twice. It usually pleases me if my subs come twice and then again as I do. That’s not exactly possible, and I’m told women can come a great deal more often. Let’s test that notion, shall we?”

  Let me be clear. Mr. Wrightworth was not some orgasm whisperer. He tried, but that first session was my being under-stimulated and him stumbling about. He would learn, but much of his ability was how hard he worked.

  In that session, he was very much relentless. The vibrator was used a great deal, to the point where my very being would throb for days afterward. It was a buzzing feeling that was both unpleasant and yet so wonderfully arousing.

  I came three more times over the course of about two hours. He would make me come and then beat me mercilessly until I considered calling my safe word and ending the session.

  Then he’d make me come again.

  Oh, to be had in such a way.

  In the end, Mr. Wrightworth was the one who ended the session.

  “Into the bedroom,” he said. “I bought you another toy. It’s in the nightstand on the side you slept on last time. Use it to masturbate while I clean the room.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “I don’t care if you think you can’t,” he said. “You have until I’m done cleaning the room. If you don’t do as I say, I will bring you back here and discipline you.”

  “Yes, Master,” I said, lowering my eyes.

  “Go,” he growled.

  I rushed to the door and tried to get it open.

  It appeared stuck. I yanked several times, but it wouldn’t move. Mr. Wrightworth sighed quietly and walked up behind me, reaching up to undo the bolt.

  “Please tell me I’ve addled your brain with how often you’ve come,” he grumbled.

  “Yes,” I said, turning towards Mr. Wrightworth.

  The man leaned on the door, glowering down at me. The heat of him seemed to surround me. It made me want to climb into his lap and beg for sex and kisses.

  “I didn’t get to come at all.”

  “Can I help with that?” I asked, daring to glance up to meet those hazel eyes.

  “No, just answer me this—”

  “Nathaniel never made me come that many times,” I said, shaking my head.

  I had to lean on the door as Mr. Wrightworth bent closer. My legs threatened to go out from under me.

  “He knows better,” Mr. Wrightworth growled out. “He was probably just afraid of breaking you. I will not make that mistake. Nor will any other Dom who plays with you. So that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “I didn’t think of him, not the entire time I was tied up.”

  Which was true. I recognized the vibrator as the one Nathaniel had used, but that was all it really was. Recognition. After that, all thought of Nathaniel was gone from my mind.

  Mr. Wrightworth smiled and pulled away.

  “Good,” he said in that tone. He moved away, chuckling as he added, “You had best get to the bedroom. It doesn’t take me long to clean up when I’ve not thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

  I left the playroom and rushed to the bedroom.

  The new toy wasn’t shaped like the other one. It was larger and had ridges on the sides instead of the top of it. The head was more round. I gulped at the look of it but prepared for what I had been commanded to do.

  Half an hour later Mr. Wrightworth walked into the bedroom, and I was no closer to it than when I started.

  “You haven’t come?” he asked.

  “No,” I snapped, annoyed and frustrated.

  When I tried to move to get rid of the toy, Mr. Wrightworth flowed around the bed and pinned me down. Grabbing my shoulder, he made me roll onto my front and pressed me down into the sheet as he reached.

  “Maybe you can’t get there by yourself,” he said, moving the toy in and out. “Or perhaps I wore you out, but you should come once more, just once more, Darling. It would please me if you came for me.”

  He’s relentless.

  I moaned and thrust back against the toy. It didn’t matter what Mr. Wrightworth said. It was not difficult to fantasize about him when he was the one pinning me down and using the toy on me. At the very thought, every bit of me trembled. Yes, I wanted Mr. Wrightworth, I wanted him to have me, and I knew that this was the closest I could come to having Mr. Wrightworth.

  “Come for me, Darling.”

  And I did.

  Chapter Ten

  I felt so much better the next day. Like a weight had lifted from my shoulders.

  We didn’t play every night, but Mr. Wrightworth did have me come over often enough that it was believable that we were in a real relationship. He would use the other times to teach me things like tying ties and proper eating manners when dining with rich folk. After learning the normal tie variation, Mr. Wrightworth showed me how to make a trinity knot and then had me do it for him on several occasions.

  He liked to beat me for not getting the perfect knot.

  About a week after we played, Mr. Wrightworth arrived at my apartment and handed me a sundress. I gawked at it, then looked up at him, eyes widening as he smiled.

  “Yes,” he said, “I’ve managed permission for you to go to church.”

  I squealed and rushed to the bathroom to change. In the new dress, I couldn’t help but turn this way and that way to look at myself in the mirror.

  “Hurry,” Mr. Wrightworth called from outside.

  I left the bathroom and did a little twirl. Mr. Wrightworth made a sound at the back of his throat and left the apartment.

  “You could at least pretend I look good,” I said as I followed him.

  He didn’t say anything until we were in the car.

  “You will behave,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “You will wear yellow, but no one will try anything. This time. Best keep you obedient to the contract, but I want you comfortable wearing yellow. If you behave, I will make you come in any way you wish.”

  “Oh...” I said, determined to behave.

  We arrived at the church without incident.

  Ezekiel was not surprised to see me, nor was anyone else. They were all very, very aware of who I was and that I was there with Mr. Wrightworth. He must have talked to the entire congregation at some point. No one touched me except Nicole, who patted me on the shoulder and smiled, then asked Mr. Wrightworth about his week away.

  “What?” I asked, staring up at him.

  “I told you about this,” Mr. Wrightworth said.

  “I thought it was a month away,” I responded.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company,” Nicole said with a smile. “We’ll talk about his penis size.”

  “Nicole, you need to talk to her about something besides men and sex,” Mr. Wrightworth said sternly. “She needs to have a normal relationship with another woman.”

  “Sometimes a normal relationship with another woman means talking about sex.”

  “Uh huh,” Mr. Wrightworth said, not sounding like he believed her in the least.

  “Speaking of sex, there’s a rumour going around that you’ve jumped the line,” Nicole said. “You know how many women are beating down my door, hoping to get your number?”

  “I haven’t jumped the line, Darling, have I jumped the line?”

  “What’s that even mean?” I asked.

  “Is he still gay?” Nicole asked me.

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “We don’t have sex if that’s what you mean. He doesn’t play with my boobs or anything like that. The only times he touches me is to teach me not to flinch away from a man’s touch.”

>   “Uh huh,” Nicole said in the same tone Mr. Wrightworth had just used, then turned to Mr. Wrightworth. “I’ll let them know that you haven’t jumped the line.”

  “Thank you,” he said quickly.

  “That it’s just Darling that does that to you.”

  Mr. Wrightworth went stiff. He stared after Nicole as the nurse flounced, yes, flounced, off. She gave her hips a little waggle, creating that back and forth motion of the swing of her hips.

  She would later teach me to walk like that. Let me just say, it is dangerous to do that in front of a sadist. It’s baiting him, and he will take the bait.

  Mr. Wrightworth almost walked forward, but then stiffened in place as Mayfair approached.

  Her face was too smooth again, having just had some peel or lift or something. Her violet eyes were the only things that held emotion. I didn’t like what I saw in those eyes, though I couldn’t be certain if it was rage or haughtiness because no other part of her face moved.

  She was beyond a porcelain doll. Mayfair had so much work done that she was starting to look like a blow-up doll instead. Except one with a nice mouth instead of one of those awkward open ones.

  “Mr. Wrightworth, what’s this? Taking Nathaniel’s sloppy seconds, shouldn’t that be the other way around?”

  “Mayfair, where’s Michie?”

  “I released him, it got boring. I have a new sub now, but he’s not fully trained yet, so I didn’t bring him.”

  “That’s a shame, I was going to ask if I could borrow Michie,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “Darling lacks certain parts, and I know Michie sometimes enjoys being lent out.”

  “Perhaps you can borrow my new sub. I think he’s your type.”

  “Maybe, but I should meet him first,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “We should find our seats, Darling?”

  I attacked Mayfair.

  It had been her images sent to Nathaniel’s father, her texts that had condemned us. She betrayed the trust that the community relied so much upon. She had outed us to Nathaniel’s father.

  And I beat that bitch just like she deserved.

  From the outside perspective, it looked just as weird as it sounded. One moment I was standing at Mr. Wrightworth’s side, determined to behave. The next my face contorted as some sort of insanity came over me. My hands came up in a type of strangling motion, and I lunged for her.

 

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