by Belle, Jove
Jude remained facedown for the remainder of the training session. By the time Hollis helped her to her feet and removed the cuffs, Jude’s hands were numb and her panties were soaked. She hoped her classmates couldn’t see just how excited the encounter had made her, but she doubted she was hiding it well. And, at that point, she’d have done anything the instructor asked, regardless of the audience.
Hollis held out Jude’s shirt and said, “Wait in my office.”
Jude ached to rub the feeling back into her wrists and hands, work the stiffness out of her back and shoulders. Instead, she took the offered shirt with a curt nod and turned toward the building without a word, leaving Hollis behind to dismiss the other students.
She debated pulling her shirt on as she walked, then opted against it. Since Hollis didn’t specify if she wanted her dressed or not, she ran the chance of being wrong either way, but if the decision were left to Jude, as it apparently was at the moment, she preferred fewer clothes for their meeting, not more.
Just like always, the door to Hollis’s office was unlocked. She folded her shirt and laid it on a wooden chair. Should she remove the rest of her clothing? No, she decided as she dropped to her knees midway between the door and the desk as instructed during her last visit to this office. She faced the door, clasped her hands together behind her back, and settled in to wait for Hollis’s arrival. She kept her gaze focused on the square of carpet directly in front of her. The temptation to explore the office was too great. If she allowed herself to glance around, she’d be up and snooping through the desk in moments. She did not want to be caught in that position.
That was her constant struggle, the balance between detective, the investigator who wanted to know everything, and the submissive, the woman who waited patiently, quietly, to be directed. Hollis, she was sure, would not appreciate her blurring the line between the two parts of herself by rummaging through her belongings.
When she heard the soft rattle-click of someone turning the knob, it could have been minutes or hours later. She’d learned long ago to surrender to the moment, allowing time to flow around her without trying to capture it or gauge the duration. She straightened her posture, wanting to impress Hollis.
“I see you’re capable of obedience.” Hollis skimmed one finger over Jude’s shoulders and up, teasing the surface of her hair without coming close enough to actually touch it. Without warning, she gripped a handful of Jude’s short locks and forced her head back, demanding eye contact.
Jude didn’t respond. Speaking without permission was dangerous. Not that she minded pushing buttons, but she just liked to know the results before jumping in. Until she learned Hollis’s proclivities, she would err on the side of caution.
“You can speak.”
“Thank you.” Jude tried to avert her gaze again, and Hollis gave a sharp tug on her hair. Jude wouldn’t need a third lesson. Hollis liked to be watched.
Hollis released her hair. “Stand.”
Jude rose fluidly, her movements graceful in spite of not moving for so long, first facedown on the field, then kneeling here on the carpet. She’d spent hours alone practicing how to move from feet to knees and back again. She wanted to be beautiful, and she’d been told many times that her efforts had paid off.
Hollis circled behind Jude, easing her nails beneath the edge of Jude’s sports bra. She snapped the elastic across her back and said, “Strip.”
As Jude removed her remaining articles of clothing and folded them carefully, her anticipation grew. Their last meeting had been filled with details, discussing the details, the rules, without any actual engagement. As good as she was at kneeling for long periods of time, waiting went against her nature. She wasn’t a patient woman and all the delays, the denial, made her antsy. It also heightened her pleasure, so she’d learned to wait when directed.
Hollis pulled several items out of her filing cabinet and placed them on her desk in a line. A sleek wooden hairbrush, teak perhaps; a set of clamp-style paperclips; a manila folder; and a child’s school ruler, wooden with a metal edge.
“Stand two steps from the desk, eyes on me. Bend at the waist and grasp the edge.”
Jude followed the directions precisely, measuring out two steps before moving into position. She kept her head up, unsure if she should maintain eye contact or follow Hollis’s hands as they worked to remove the metal strip from the side edge of the ruler. The steady, sure movements of her hands won out, as Jude found herself captivated, imagining the sting of the wood against her backside.
When Hollis finished removing the thin line of metal, she returned it to the desk and selected the manila folder next. She relaxed, sinking into her chair as she read, “Jude May Lassiter, homicide detective, North Precinct Portland, Oregon. Shot twice in the line of duty.” Hollis looked up, her eyes searching Jude’s body for evidence to support the information in the file. Her gaze lingered on the rough scar on Jude’s shoulder, then continued the search of her body. She wouldn’t find the one just below Jude’s left breast as long as she remained angled over the desk. “Decorated as a hero for stopping a robbery in progress, and a second time for safely negotiating the release of a family taken hostage in their own home.” She stopped reading, waiting for Jude to fill in the details.
Jude held her gaze but didn’t speak. That day had been a horrible, crazy mix-up of luck and coincidence. The only reason she was here instead of dead was because the man’s pistol jammed and she was able to tackle him before he cleared the chamber. The barrel had been pointed straight at her chest—covered in patrol-officer blue—when he pulled the trigger. At such close proximity, it would have done more than leave another scar to be catalogued in a file.
She’d been promoted to detective a week later. Her second promotion to detective investigator came after she brought in a serial rapist who had terrorized the St. John’s area for months. After that she requested the transfer to Homicide, where the victims didn’t cry when she found them.
Nothing in their exchange so far permitted Hollis to hear Jude’s accounting of that part of her life, and if she continued to stare at Jude, entitlement and demand on her face, Jude would end the scene and leave. She wanted to get laid, not head fucked.
Jude eased her grip on the desk, already mentally removing herself from the room. As she was about to straighten and retrieve her clothing, Hollis finally spoke.
“Everything in here reads like a chief’s wet dream.” Hollis closed the file and set it next to the ruler, then picked up the metal clips. “So why are you down here being such a pain in the ass for me?”
“I…” Jude flexed her fingers, her muscles aching as she renewed her grasp. What could she say in her own defense? What would be good enough? “I’m sorry.” She lowered her gaze, unable to keep her eyes forward during the apology. It wouldn’t be enough for Hollis, she was sure, but it was the best she could offer.
“You’re sorry?” Hollis was on her feet and by Jude’s side quick enough to make Jude flinch. “You disrupt my class, embarrass your classmate, and that’s all you have to say for yourself?” She spoke low and harsh in Jude’s ear, her hand bouncing the metal clips up, just barely losing contact, then grasping them tight, her fingers loose and steady. Over and over. The rhythmic clicking lulled Jude.
“Umm…” Jude wanted to speak eloquently, to defend herself. All she could do was watch the flash of metal between Hollis’s fingers.
Hollis leaned closer, her lips brushing against Jude’s neck, just below her ear. “Sorry isn’t enough. There are consequences for that type of behavior in my classroom.” She sucked Jude’s earlobe between her teeth and bit down hard.
Hollis pressed her fingertips against her shoulder, forcing her upright. She kissed and sucked her way down Jude’s chest, taking first one nipple into her mouth, a barely there open-mouthed kiss, then moving to the other. “Your breasts are remarkable.” As she spoke, she gripped both nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and squeezed.
Jude gaspe
d, fisting her palms at her side to keep from grabbing Hollis and pulling her closer. The pressure increased steadily until all Jude could think about, all that mattered, was the urgent thrum of hot, lustful energy running from her breasts to her cunt. Her knees trembled and she felt herself slipping. She forced herself upright and braced herself. She would not fall over.
Just as the pressure reached the hard-enough-to-make-her-come level, Hollis released her. Before Jude could orient herself, return to a semi-normal state, Hollis slipped a clamp over her left nipple, then her right. The pressure rocketed, too painful, too decadent, too immediate, too jarring, too delicious, too…everything. Jude wanted more and she wanted less. Unable to decide, she whimpered and leaned closer to Hollis.
“I want you to make me come.” Hollis slid out of her shorts and panties as she led Jude around the desk. “Then I’ll decide on a suitable punishment for you.” She reclined into her chair, forcing Jude to her knees and guiding her head between her legs in one smooth motion.
Jude eased her hands over Hollis’s thighs, working her way up and inward, delighted to be allowed to touch.
“Ah-ah, hands behind your back.” She rapped the ruler over Jude’s knuckles.
“I’m sorry.” Jude slipped her tongue between Hollis’s lips. She fought to keep her balance as she stroked and swirled, experimenting with pressure and motion. She was determined to make Hollis forget her own name.
Hollis gripped the back of her head, the constant weight of her hand holding Jude steady. She thrust her tongue into Hollis, pushing as deep as she could, reaching to find Hollis’s threshold for pleasure. She retracted and thrust again, building a steady rhythm that Hollis matched, her hips jutting into Jude’s face. She wanted to grip Hollis around the waist, drag her close, pin her down, and tongue-fuck her until she came.
The tugging pressure on her scalp increased sharply in sync with the rising volume of Hollis’s praise. “Fuck…God…Damn.” Over and over, the same three words that started as a low, barely there whisper, then grew into a proud, desperate mantra.
Jude dragged her tongue up, applying direct pressure to Hollis’s clit for the first time. She grazed it with her teeth, then sucked it hard between her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue over the tight bundle.
Hollis gripped her head tighter, her fingers tangled in her hair, pulling and pushing at the same time. She tensed, her body perfectly still, yet shaking from the strain as her body tightened. She teetered there on that edge, body quaking, until Jude couldn’t take it any more. Fuck obedience. She slammed two fingers into Hollis’s cunt, fucking her hard and fast.
“Jesus…Fuck…Fuck.” Hollis buckled into the chair and tugged Jude up by her hair, covering her mouth in a demanding, invading kiss. “Damn, you’re good at that.”
As quickly as the kiss began, it ended. Hollis tugged on both nipple clamps, shooting fire to Jude’s center. She almost collapsed in Hollis’s lap.
“I want you on the floor, face down, ass up. Now.” Hollis’s voice held none of the languid recovery Jude expected. Her recuperation time was record fast.
As Jude moved into position, Hollis shoved the cushion from her chair under Jude’s head.
“Keep your hands behind your back this time or I’ll put the cuffs back on.” She took a set from her top drawer and plopped them on the desk. “I have a hobby that you are likely unaware of.”
Jude could hear Hollis moving around as she spoke, and she struggled to keep her head down. What else could she possibly have in her office to use on Jude? Either the ruler or the hairbrush would work nicely.
“I like to ride.” Hollis’s smile infused her voice, and Jude would have worried if given enough time. “English style.”
A sharp crack from, presumably, Hollis’s riding crop tore into Jude’s rear end, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. A second and third quickly followed.
“Feel free to count if it helps.” Two more rapid strokes. “Or cry if you need to.”
Jude ground her teeth together as another sharp blow caught her low enough to sting her pussy lips. “Six.”
Jude counted fifteen before Hollis stopped. The cool counterpoint of Hollis’s hand as she comforted the reddened skin relaxed Jude, and a tear slipped from her eye.
“So beautiful.” Hollis praised her, her voice reverent and soft, as she massaged Jude’s ass, alternating between gripping and pulling, and gliding softly. “You were splendid.”
Hollis stretched her cheeks apart and a jolt of cool air hit Jude’s anus, followed almost immediately by a slick, probing tongue. Hollis pressed into Jude, rimming her, as her hands continued to knead the abused flesh. Jude squeezed her muscles tight, all of them, her fingernails digging into her palms, her toes digging into the hard floor. Her tits dragged against the floor, amping up the fire from the clamps, as she strained against Hollis’s tongue.
One last swipe and Hollis sat back on her haunches, still holding her cheeks open. Jude held herself rigid, fighting against the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable.
“God, I wish I had a strap-on here. I’d fuck your ass so hard you’d come for weeks.”
Before the words could cool in the air, before Jude’s pussy could stop clenching from the promise, Hollis pushed three fingers into Jude, so hard and so deep Jude wondered if it really was a strap-on. She set a fast, steady pace, increasing to four fingers before Jude was ready, and the stretching pressure-pain almost made her come instantly. She wasn’t allowed yet, and she gritted her teeth and waited for permission.
Hollis grasped her hair, tugging her upright, flush against her, back to front, as she continued to fuck her. The new angle and increasing urgency brought Jude closer to the edge until she was staring down, trying not to fall into the vast chasm before her. She was barely hanging on, her grasp on solid ground tenuous and failing fast.
Hollis released her hair and wrapped her arm around her chest, toying with her nipples, one after the other, not letting either rest for more than a second before returning her attention to it. Then, blessedly, she licked the length of Jude’s neck, still thrusting hard inside her cunt.
“Do you want to come?”
Jude’s shoulders burned and ached, and her fingers itched to dig into the flesh of Hollis’s belly. Her head swam, furling and dark.
“Answer me.” Hollis tugged on one of the clamps, pulling and squeezing it tighter. “Do you want to come?”
Yes…yes…God, yes. Jude couldn’t form the words. Her body was on fire, originating in her pussy and burning outward. She licked her lips. “Y…” She licked them again. “Yes, please, yes.” She begged and cried, unable to think beyond the pounding fist in her cunt and the lightning-sharp pressure on her nipples.
Hollis released her hold on the clamp, leaving it in place but no longer adding to the pain. She moved her hand swiftly to Jude’s mound, circling her clit with one soft, determined finger. “You can.” She bit down on the meaty flesh of Jude’s shoulder as she spoke.
Jude froze. Permission. She opened herself to the pressure in her cunt, her clit, her nipples, and the sharp tear of teeth at her pulse point. The dark, blurry edges of her vision overpowered the light and she surrendered, falling headfirst into the abyss.
Chapter Four
When Jude came to, Hollis was dressed and staring at her intently. The polished leather of her riding boots sat in stark contrast to the dull carpet. A tight, secret smile graced her lips.
She reclined on the sofa, one leg draped over the other, with the riding crop in her hands. She twirled it between her fingers and regarded Jude thoughtfully.
“You did very well.” Hollis was a demanding lover but always remembered praise when they finished. It made Jude try that much harder. As much as she enjoyed the harder edge of sex, at her core, she wanted to please. Being punished when she failed, then praised when she did well fed her need at an absolute base level.
Jude pulled herself upright. She’d been out, sprawled unattractively on the carpet, lon
g enough for Hollis to collect her toys and put them away. The hairbrush and ruler were no longer on the desk. And her nipples, while incredibly sore and sensitive, were decidedly clamp-free. After far too much effort, she positioned herself appropriately on her knees with her hands palm down on her thighs.
“Thank you.” Her voice came out clearer than she expected. Jude was ruffled, destroyed by the demands Hollis placed on her body, first in class, then later in her office. Sweat had cooled on her body, and her inner thighs were tacky with leftover sex. She needed a shower desperately, but she held herself carefully, striving for placid beauty. For her part, Hollis looked completely put together.
“I hate to leave, but unfortunately I have a standing appointment.” Hollis said it like her departure was eminent, but she didn’t move.
“I understand.” Jude felt shaky all over, her muscles weak and her ass screaming. It was a delicate balance to kneel appropriately and keep the pressure off her bottom and not tax her jellified thighs. She wanted to lie back out on the floor and take a nap, give her body a chance to process and enjoy what Hollis had put her through.
“But I want to take care of you first. There’s a jar on my desk. Bring it to me.”
Jude had missed it earlier, a small white plastic jar without a label. She rose carefully, thankful for the change in position, and collected the jar as requested. Hollis took the jar when Jude offered it, then held her hand out, beckoning Jude to come closer. Her touch, the smooth skin of her hand, was soft and gentle. She set both feet squarely on the floor, then guided Jude to lie over them, like a child awaiting a spanking. She clenched, fearful that Hollis was going to follow through on her promise to punish her for touching earlier when she’d been directed to keep her hands behind her back.
“Relax.” Hollis soothed her hand over the sensitive flesh, and Jude tensed further.
The touch was tender, kind, and very arousing. And Jude had no idea what Hollis had planned next.