PERHAPS THERE WOULD BE A PUNISHMENT TONIGHT. THE NOVELTY OF PERFORMING IN HER STRIKING GOWN WOULD SURELY RESULT IN A FEW MILD FLUBS. THE MISTAKES BOTHERED HER MORE THAN THEY BOTHERED HIM AND HER AUDIENCE, ALTHOUGH HIS BELT OR CROP SEEMED TO GIVE HER SOME MEASURE OF RELIEF. FROM HER PETTY MUSICAL SINS, ANYWAY.
HE NEVER ADDRESSED THE GREATER ISSUE OF WHETHER SHE PLAYED FROM GUILT, NOR ASKED ANY SPECIFIC QUESTIONS ABOUT WHETHER THIS TOUR WAS HER SWAN SONG. HE WOULD EVENTUALLY, BUT NOT YET. HE WAS NOT WILLING TO UPSET THE DELICATE EQUILIBRIUM THEY FINALLY SHARED.
THE HOUSE LIGHTS WENT DOWN, NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON. SPECULATING ABOUT CONSEQUENCES AND PUNISHMENTS HAD HIM GOING HARD AGAIN, NO DOUBT BECAUSE THOSE PUNISHMENTS WERE ALWAYS FOLLOWED BY SOME PRETTY INTENSE SEX.
THE CINCINNATI ORCHESTRA PLAYED FIRST, SOME CHARMING CONCERTO HE COULD ONLY THINK OF AS A WARM-UP. AFTER IT ENDED, THERE WAS A SHORT, EXPECTANT PAUSE, AND THERE SHE WAS.
IN ALL THIS TIME, HE HADN’T SAT IN THE SEATS TO WATCH HER. SHE’D NEEDED HIM BACKSTAGE TOO MUCH. NOW WHEN SHE WALKED ON STAGE IN HER SWEEPING IVORY GOWN, HEAD HELD HIGH, IT TOOK HIS BREATH AWAY. SHE SAT IN A BURGUNDY UPHOLSTERED CHAIR IN THE CENTER OF THE STAGE, ACCEPTING HER INSTRUMENT FROM THE SPIFFILY-ATTIRED STAGEHAND MEETING HER FROM STAGE LEFT.
KYLE FELT SOME INSANE PANG OF JEALOUSY AT THE SHY SMILE SHE GAVE HIM, BUT THEN HE GREW DISTRACTED WATCHING HER SETTLE THE CELLO BETWEEN HER KNEES. IT WAS A SERIES OF MOVEMENTS THAT HAD FASCINATED HIM FROM THE START—THE PARTING OF THE LEGS, THE PLACEMENT OF THE ARMS AND FINGERS. THE WAY SHE LEANED FORWARD, WATCHING THE CONDUCTOR, READY AND INTENTLY WAITING. HE’D NEVER SEEN IT SO CLEARLY BEFORE, ONLY FROM THE OBSTRUCTION OF THE WINGS.
WITH A START, HE RECOGNIZED THE LOOK AS THE SAME ONE SHE USED WHEN HE WAS GIVING HER HIS PROVOCATIVE DIRECTIONS AND REQUIREMENTS. WHAT HAD HE SAID TO HER ONCE? I LIKE TO BE THE CONDUCTOR. CAN YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? IF SHE HADN’T UNDERSTOOD THEN, SHE SEEMED TO UNDERSTAND NOW.
She began to play the unfolding, melodic harmonies so familiar to him. He could never catch the mistakes she claimed to make, but he knew the notes she played by heart now, down to every dip and rise of her bow. The dress heightened the graceful movements of her arms as the notes poured from her instrument. It had been a shock to him the first time he’d heard her play in a small hotel room, and even in this vast concert hall her cello sounded powerful. She’d explained the mechanics behind it once, that one of the qualities that made her cello so valuable was its powerful tone. Perhaps it was the tone that struck people, but it was the emotion behind the notes that held him spellbound.
When the concerto ended, Caressa bowed to a standing ovation. It was the first time he saw her look uncomfortable in the dress—and it would have been a problem if her lovely breasts were to tumble from the deconstructed bodice. Fortunately, they stayed put and Kyle exhausted himself with all the others, applauding until his hands hurt.
He shouted “Brava!” and her head turned, recognizing his voice over the others. Yes, you good girl, in your lovely gown. You sexy little genius. Her face lit up and she gazed at him for a long moment. As the curtains drew closed and the lights came up to signal intermission, the woman beside him turned with a smile.
“She’s just…” The woman sighed. “Simply entrancing. It’s as if she channels the music straight from heaven.”
Kyle’s lips twitched at her melodramatic assessment, but he had to agree. “She is certainly talented.”
“My husband and I have been attending her concerts since she was a young thing.” The woman introduced Kyle to her husband, a thin, distinguished-looking older gentleman. The couple’s excitement and inspiration was palpable. They were fans. Kyle tried to describe it to Caressa later as he took down her hair back at the hotel room. She blushed and was typically self-deprecating. He brushed her hair up over her shoulders, pressing a kiss at the back of her neck.
“It was nice watching you from the seats.”
“Nice?” She gave him a look.
“Breathtaking. Spectacular. Spellbinding.” He reached around to cup her full breasts and pinch and squeeze them absently as he brushed out her hair as well as he could. She was nude, as he was. He required nudity whenever they were together in his hotel room, another form of control. If she wanted to play, she had to strip off all her defenses—and clothing—just inside the door. If she didn’t want to play, she stayed in her own room. The system worked well, and she seemed to thrive on it. She knew once the door was locked, once her clothes were off, she was his to command, fuck, or punish at will. He tipped her chin up and scrutinized her lovely features.
“How many mistakes did you make today?”
His cock twitched at her woe-be-gone look. He wasn’t a real sadist like his old boss had been, but he liked tormenting her. It was her reactions that aroused him, more than any desire to impart pain.
“Well…” She looked away over his shoulder and then back again. “The dress sort of distracted me—”
“I knew you were going to use that excuse.”
“And you being in the audience! I was kind of nervous.”
He stroked her cheeks with bemused affection. “Excuses. Tell me how many mistakes you made, followed by a Sir, girl.”
“Only a couple, Sir. Plus one other time when my phrasing was a little off.”
HE WAITED. SHE BIT HER LIP, THINKING.
“AND I GUESS I WASN’T AS STRONG AS I COULD HAVE BEEN ON THE NOTES LEADING UP TO THE LAST CRESCENDO. I MEAN, I WAS CLOSE BUT…” SHE SIGHED. “FOUR MISTAKES, SIR.”
“HMM,” HE SAID, RELEASING HER CHIN AND GUIDING HER TO HER KNEES. “THAT’S GOING TO HURT. TEN FOR EACH ERROR MAKES FORTY. SURE THERE WEREN’T ANY MORE?”
SHE SWALLOWED HARD. “NO, SIR. I WOULDN’T LIE.”
HE KNEW SHE WOULDN’T. SHE PROBABLY MADE LESS MISTAKES THAN SHE CONFESSED TO, BUT A HARD SESSION WOULD BE ENJOYABLE FOR BOTH OF THEM. BUT FIRST THINGS FIRST. AT A SILENT, SUBTLE GESTURE WITH HIS FINGERS, SHE DROPPED TO HER KNEES AND STARTED TO FELLATE HIM. HE’D TRAINED HER TO RESPOND TO A VARIETY OF UNSPOKEN COMMANDS IN THE BEDROOM, ALTHOUGH HE STILL PREFERRED TO GIVE HER ORDERS. BUT AT TIMES LIKE THESE…
HE GRASPED HER HAIR WITH A SIGH, LEANING HIS HEAD BACK AND BASKING IN HER QUICKLY DEVELOPING ORAL TALENTS. “GOOD GIRL,” HE MURMURED. “NOW LICK MY BALLS…MM…” HE TAPPED HER HEAD AND SHE LOOKED UP AT HIM WITH WIDE EYES EAGER TO PLEASE. OH GOD, BEAUTIFUL. HE YANKED HER BACK TO HIS COCK BY THE HAIR, PLUNGING BETWEEN HER LIPS. HE FUCKED HER FACE, IMPASSIONED BY THE SUBMISSION HE’D SEEN IN HER EYES. HE TRIED TO PRESS HER BOUNDARIES, BOTH PHYSICAL AND MENTAL, AS HE REVELED IN THE BUILDING SENSATION OF POSSESSING HER MOUTH. PRESSURE BUILT IN HIS COCK, RADIATING DOWN TO HIS BALLS AND EVEN TO HIS THIGHS. HE THOUGHT OF HER AS SHE’D BEEN ON STAGE, REGAL AND MASTERFUL, DRAWING MUSIC FROM HER INSTRUMENT. NOW SHE WAS HIS—HIS TO PLAY.
He tried to prolong the delicious torment of her oral talents, tensing as she drew back to run her tongue across the front of his shaft, the crown and tip. She pressed her lips against his throbbing cock in a teasing kiss, then licked up a spurt of pre-cum with an avid glance up at him. The sensation alone nearly killed him, but then she made some small lust noise of pleasure or satisfaction and he was lost. He drove deep in her throat, holding the back of her neck as he emptied himself in waves of shattering release. She stayed still, receiving his cum, and then he pulled back a little so she could breathe better. She drew her lips across his cock as he withdrew, as if she couldn’t bear to miss out on one drop. God…she was learning.
He gazed down at her in barely-veiled adoration. “You little slut.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered without hesitation.
“You little cock-craving monkey.” She gave an undignified snort that he suspected was her attempt at muffling a laugh. “You never get enough, do you?”
“No, Sir,” she answered, again without hesitation.
“You’ll get plenty of cock tonight, don’t worry. After we take care of the matter of your punishment. Go lie face down on the bed.”
She hurri
ed to obey as Kyle went to rifle through his haphazardly assembled toy collection. He wasn’t carrying a lot because of all their travels, but he’d picked up enough to make things interesting for her. He tossed cuffs on the bed beside her face, then some lube and a butt plug, trying not to laugh at the widening of her eyes.
He considered the clamps, but she was already going to endure a thorough ass-warming. On second thought, he threw the clamps on the bed too. The whole purpose of requiring her to service him first was to buy time to torment her for as long as possible before he fell on her again. He considered what was left. Ball gag. That would be necessary. He tossed it over along with a whippy little crop, then the ping-pong paddle she despised. She swallowed, gazing up at him speechlessly.
“Wish you’d stayed in your own room tonight?” he asked.
She moved her hips forward against the edge of the mattress. “No, Sir.”
He chuckled inwardly as he cuffed her hands to the frame of the hotel bed and worked the ball of the gag between her lips. She didn’t like being gagged, but submitted to it after a few crisp words on Kyle’s part. The sound of repetitive strikes could be explained away as innocuous activities—cries and screams, not so much. At least Denise had not complained when Kyle started routinely booking her room on a separate floor.
He lubed the plug and slid one hand under Caressa’s hips to hold her still. He pressed it to her tiny hole and worked it in. It wasn’t a huge plug, but it wasn’t as small as the ones he’d started her on either. She moaned behind the gag and arched her hips to accommodate it, grinding against the bed when it was fully seated. Little pervert.
Like everything else, she’d taken to anal play like a natural. He doubted there was any virgin in the history of the world who’d gone from lily white to so completely depraved in the space of a couple months, and he was pretty damn proud to be the one behind the transformation. At least partly behind it. A lot of it was her own insatiable curiosity and lack of inhibition. He watched her writhe just a moment for the pleasure of it, then gave her a sharp slap on the ass. “Control yourself. No coming until after the punishment or it’s doubled. You know that, so behave.”
She went still with another moan, pulling ineffectually at the bonds that held her tethered to the bed. He picked up the crop and started with a few warm up strokes. Her luscious bottom jerked and she tried to evade him by turning on her side. The only problem with hotel beds was that so few had good sturdy footboards for restraining naughty submissives. He knelt on the bed beside her, placing a knee at the small of her back and delivering three quick strikes to the tops of her thighs. She wailed behind the gag, shuddering under him.
“Enough, Caressa. If you’re going to flail around when I’m just getting warmed up, I have no choice but to get stricter with you.” Another slice across the back of the thighs brought another muffled cry and a burst of tears. “Are you ready to lie still and take your punishment?”
She nodded, moaning. She could take a pretty good whipping on her ass, but her thighs were another matter. He took his knee off her back. “That was ten so far. Ten more with the crop and then I’ll let you have a little break.” He still knelt beside her in case he had to subdue her, but she was reasonably still for the next ten blows. He’d gotten pretty good with the crop the year before in the BDSM clubs. He could hurt her pretty badly but leave just a few mild welts.
He knew to a pretty accurate degree how much he hurt her, because in the beginning he’d sounded her out after every punishment. She’d described the shocking “stripe-y” fire of the crop as compared to the deep sting of the paddle, and categorized his belt as some type of pain in between.
He studied her trembling ass cheeks as he placed the crop to the side. He was already half hard again. He ran his fingertips over the three welts he’d raised and the other criss-crossing lines, then pressed the butt plug deeper into her just to hear her moan. “I know you want me to fuck your ass, girl,” he whispered next to her ear as he leaned to pick up the paddle. “You’re just going to have a wait a bit longer.”
But not too much longer. She gave him a pleading look, staring between him and the evil little ping-pong paddle she hated. That look had him rising to full mast. Maybe he was more of a sadist than he thought. He’d picked the paddle up on a whim in one of the hotel gyms and, after seeing the rousing effect it had on her, secreted the tool away in his luggage. He tapped her ass with it now.
“Up. Arch your hips up. Twenty more.”
She made some lovely tortured sounds as she reluctantly proffered her ass cheeks for punishment. He paddled her hard and steadily, five alternating whacks on each cheek, letting the heat and sting pile up to an almost unbearable level for her. She keened behind the gag and ground against the bed, her legs clenched together. He paused and put a hand on the small of her back, tapping the edge of the paddle against the flange of the toy between her ass cheeks. “How did I tell you to position yourself?”
With a slow unwinding effort, she raised her sinuous hips, presenting her gorgeous bottom to him. It was lovely dark pink now. He’d make it red before he finished, and she knew the worst was still to come.
“Ten more,” he reminded her. “And I want your legs spread wide for the last ten.” She gazed back at him, pleading for mercy with her eyes, but knowing she would get none. She slowly spread her thighs, leaving herself vulnerable and open to his gaze. He put his hand on her back again and gave her a solid crack on the inside of her left thigh. She screamed behind the gag and cranked her legs shut.
“No way,” he said, prying them apart again. “I said open. Spread wide. Every time you close them I start over with the last ten again. Do you understand?” She lay still, trembling, for a long moment, and then she nodded. He watched her eyes, for the safe signal of closing them tightly, but it didn’t come. “Good girl,” he said quietly. “You know you need this. Don’t you?”
She nodded again, her eyes full of emotion. He was tempted to be softer, only because the moment felt so tender, but that wasn’t how either of them liked to play the game. He gave her another crack on her inner thigh. This time, she actually spread her legs wider, as if desperate to obey. He walked around the bed and cracked the inside of her other thigh, and then returned to belaboring her ass cheeks with fairly hard spanks until they were deep crimson.
She kept her legs spread wide, a wanton creature determined to please him even though he was hurting her quite a bit. He caught the scent of her unmistakable arousal, and his own cock was heavy, his entire pelvis pulsing with need. He gave the last two strokes right over the toy’s flange, at the sensitive underside of her buttocks. She gave a satisfying scream behind the gag, and Kyle knew he would die if he didn’t slide into her tight anal channel.
He tossed the paddle aside and hurriedly uncuffed her, helping her ease down the bed and stand on unsteady legs. He unbuckled the gag, using his discarded shirt to swab away the inevitable drool, then bent her forward to take out the plug. She made a low moaning sound he silenced with a warning pinch to her inner thigh, and she leaned forward on her arms in resignation. Her full breasts hung down before her, swaying as he arranged her with her hips high and her legs spread. He remembered the clamps. Soon, but not yet.
He squeezed her hot ass cheeks, then parted them, pressing his cock to her tightening hole. He started to push in, then thought better of it and added a quick swipe of lube. Now even as she resisted, he eased forward, aided by the slippery lubricant that contained some nice warming agents too. He felt the familiar tensing, and then the relaxing as she accepted his intimate invasion. She arched her back and wiggled against him as he drove all the way in. He shuddered, finally experiencing that tight, hot friction he’d been craving.
“Oh, Jesus, Caressa,” he burst out. She whimpered in reply as he paused, fully seated in her. He pulled her up off the bed with a tug of her hair and clasped her against his front, his balls still bumping against her ass. “Get me the clamps,” he said through gritted teeth, indicati
ng the two silver-chained clips on the bed in front of her.
He fucked her ass a little as she handed them over. He was trying to hold back, but the pleasure was so intense. He felt a building throb in his balls, and distracted himself pinching her nipples. They were already tight and erect, ready for the clamps. He reached over her shoulder to put on the first one and she made a yelping moaning sound. He clasped her closer and shushed her with a firm hand cupping her jaw.
“Quiet.”
She fell silent, and he could feel her whole body tense as he opened the clamp over her other nipple. He let it shut and was rewarded with a satisfying clench of her sphincter around his dick. He started to move inside her again, in and out, fucking his little fuck toy. He gripped the chain between her clamps with one hand and clutched her hot, dripping pussy with the other, thrusting his fingers inside her cunt as he fucked her ass. Each time he tugged on the chain, she made a smothered crying sound and pressed back against him, all sinuous horniness. His wild creature.
“God, I fucking love you,” he whispered against her ear. “I love you like this. Do you want this, Caressa? Do you like when I use you like this?”
“Yes! Yes, Sir!” She was breathing fast. He knew she was close to orgasm.
“Are you mine, girl? I’m inside you, deep inside you.”
He tugged the clamps again, thrusting hard, and she gasped and clutched at his thighs. She went rigid and her ass pulsed on his cock in climax while her pussy soaked his fingers. He held her as she struggled, her animalistic movements making his own world turn in and spiral into orgasm. He fell forward onto the bed on top of her and wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her with all the desperate adoration he felt. She made a soft sound of satiety, going limp in his confining embrace.
“I’m inside you,” he repeated again, more intently. “I won’t let you get away.”
Caressa’s Knees Page 14