Maddy Mine

by Maren Smith

  At first, that was all he did. It was simultaneously a shame and a thrill when she felt the first tickle of liquid arousal spill from between her tightly clenched labia into his palm.

  "I'm sorry," she gasped.

  "For what?"

  For causing problems. For getting turned on when that was the last thing she should be feeling. For leaking all over his hand, and for not having listened when her instincts tried to warn her something was wrong. She didn't know what to say, where to start. "I… I don't know."

  His grip loosened, becoming a heated massage moving up and down along the slickened folds, spreading moisture before he gripped again. He caught her clit alone this time and, despite her involuntary gasp and groan and arch up onto her tiptoes to alleviate the pressure, he held it fiercely.

  "You don't get to punish you, Maddy," he warned. "You gave that job to me; it's mine and mine alone. Now you've asked me to help you deal with something that was never your fault, and that's fine. You're not the first person to shoulder someone else's yoke; I can get you out from under it, but I'm not going to whip you for it. Not with my hand or my belt. Spankings are for sex, good girls and, as happened this morning, for good girls who need reminding why they ought to stay good. What happened tonight doesn't fit any of those criteria. Fortunately for us both, spanking isn't my only method of discipline."

  Her clit throbbed as hard as a heartbeat when he released it. He shifted his touch, giving Maddy no time to brace herself before he bent her roughly back over the chair.

  "Your safeword is red," he said, shoving her legs apart with his knee and brisk slaps to the insides of her thighs. "Say it."

  "M-my safeword is red," Maddy stammered, grabbing onto the seat of her chair when he shifted his grip from her shirt to her hair. His fist was no gentler for being wrapped in her ponytail instead of her tank top, but it did hold her more securely.

  "Use it if you need to, do you understand?"

  "Yes." She winced when he yanked back on her head. "Yes, sir!"

  He eased his grip, but her relief was short-lived. From the moment she heard the metallic clink of his belt unbuckling, she knew what he intended. He was going to fuck her. Actually fuck her. Already he was wrestling back the folds of his zipper to take out his cock. How in the hell was that supposed to be a punishment?

  A spark of real anger ignited deep in the seat of unhappiness that had followed Maddy back from the Grotto. Was this a joke to him? Why wasn't he taking her seriously? She tried to get off the chair, but he refused to allow it. It was one thing to know, intellectually, how much stronger a man could be compared to herself, but it was another thing altogether to feel that strength forcibly pinning her over the back of a chair, with her bare ass on display while he stroked himself from half-flaccid into a state of thrusting readiness. Her temper sparked hotter. Braced on her arms, she shoved harder. "Get off!"

  He yanked her up off the chair and shoved her face-first into the nearest wall instead. He still gripped her ponytail, but now it was the weight of his forearm across her neck and cheek that pinned her. "Do you want to use your safeword?"

  If anything, her temper skyrocketed. She slammed her elbow back into his chest. If she could have turned around, she'd have hit him. "Fuck you!"

  "Fuck me?"

  "Yeah!"

  "Not exactly what I had in mind."

  He bent over her. She felt the tickle of his whiskers and almost elbowed him again, until the brush of his lips caressed two soft kisses upon the nape of her neck and the top of her shoulder. It robbed her of her budding anger but not the swell of unhappiness, which grew violently, taking her right to the verge of tears and forcing that burning question, 'How is this a punishment?' to perch on her trembling lips. But just as they were about to come pouring out of her, Dominick rose and shoved himself inside her.

  He took her in one hard thrust, slamming the chair forward into the desk of monitors, and filling and stretching her almost to the point of pain. She stumbled, a harsh cry erupting past her lips when he yanked her back onto him, both by her ponytail and the chair.

  "Your panties are in my pocket. For as long as I have them, you belong to me." He thrust again, the slap of his hips juddering her buttocks and her grunting gasp echoing through the room. "My Maddy. My submissive, my baby girl, and my fucktoy when I want it."

  She didn't need to ask anymore. The rhythm he assumed was nothing less than brutal and yet, despite the fullness and the pain in her scalp when he pulled her head back that much further, her body refused to accept this as punishment. Her pussy burned, despite the wetness that allowed him to invade so easily. Her clit throbbed, wanting and welcoming him. Maybe it was because he'd kissed her first. Maybe it was because, for all that it felt as if he were doing this in anger, he wasn't.

  He let go of her hair, reaching under her to seize as much of her pussy as he could grab. Her belly spasmed and her legs shook.

  "You're mine," he said, the husky growl of his voice drowning beneath the wet, slick slapping of their bodies coming hungrily together. "Mine to use as I desire. To fuck as I desire. For my pleasure."

  She almost came—almost—because just as every muscle locked down, the sheath of her pussy clenching in tight around him, at the pinnacle of all those pounding thrusts when tight sparks began to ignite in all her tensing nerve endings, he pulled out. Maddy shouted the loss but he left her anyway, perched on a knife's edge of sabotaged orgasm.

  "My pleasure," he repeated, holding her pinned over the chair when all she could think about was turning around far enough to slug him. "Not yours. This is your punishment: You will not cum today. No matter how many times I fuck you—and I intend it to be often—you will not cum."

  Choking back cries, Maddy grabbed between her legs. Not to finish what he'd started, she told herself—although, how would she ever stop herself? Her throbbing, aching sex demanded release, but all she could do was grip and hold as he had done, applying pressure enough to quiet the awful demand of emptiness so she could function.

  "Move your hands," Dominick ordered, giving each a brisk slap until she snatched them away and gripped the chair again. He covered her pussy, refusing to allow her access to any part of her pleading sex and ignoring her frustrated whimpers when he made no move to finish what he'd started.

  Waiting for her to calm, he let his fingers play in the wetness dribbling from her folds. That he never once touched her aching clit was nothing less than torture. Only when the raging of her denied passions had cooled did he put his clothes to rights. His cock was still hard when he re-zipped it back into the confines of his pants.

  "I want you to remain in this position," he said, one hand resting lightly on her back. "Can you do that?"

  If it killed her. Maddy nodded, struggling to gain control of her shuddering breaths, her racing heart, the wound-like burning now coursing from her pussy to her womb, up through her veins to tap at the throbbing of her nipples. She couldn't remember when she'd last felt so painfully aroused that all she wanted was for him to leave so she could fall masturbating to her knees.

  "Say my name," he coaxed, the caress of his hand wandering down to cup her ass. He squeezed, owning the cheek he held.

  She swallowed hard. "M-master." Her voice was so shaky and hoarse, she barely recognized it.

  He gave her buttocks a gentle pat and her whole body thrilled. And then thrilled again when she felt the tap of his boot nudging her ankles wider apart. Maddy spread her legs as far as she could.

  "Hands behind your back."

  She obeyed, gripping her own wrists, determined to keep them there.

  "I'll return in a minute. One minute," he promised, then warned, "Don't move. If you disobey me, there will be hell to pay."

  Unsure if 'don't move' also included her head, Maddy turned to watch the reflection in the monitors as he left the room. Her body hummed as if thoroughly electrified, but the excitement was already fading, leaving behind tendrils of lonely disappointment.

  She had t
o stop doing this. She had to get her libido and emotions under firm control before she did something stupid, like get attached to a man she barely knew. This was a vacation fling, at best. She had to remember that in a few days she would be going home again. They both would, maybe sharing the same outbound plane, but only until the next connecting flight whisked them off to separate homes in separate states.

  She was never going see him again after that.

  How would she survive it? The loss of him, the overwhelming silence of her apartment, her job, her life? For a moment, Maddy couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes, and then deliberately shut down that entire train of thought. She couldn't deal with it right now. Eventually, she would have to, but that moment was still several days away.

  Several days from now would come soon enough on its own.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He had to get a grip on this. Standing outside the closed security office door, one hand on the metal knob, Dominick stared at the thin, industrial grey carpet stretching down the long hall before him and thought. His belly was tight; his cock; hard as fucking stone. Just on the other side of this door, Maddy was bent over her chair, naked from waist to ankles, legs spread wide, ass thrusting back for his attention, and her pussy so damned wet that she'd left her secreted oils dripping from his fingertips.

  Raising the hand he had fondled her with, he studied the intoxicating moisture drying on his skin. He rolled his thumb in it, feeling the lubricating slickness and remembering how tightly her body had latched onto him as he'd 'disciplined' her. He could still feel her, quivering and milking him, begging with every squeezing spasm for him to fuck harder. Deeper. With all the strength and mock savagery that he could muster. A proper punishment fucking, the likes of which any man should give after jumping into the ocean after the woman he fancied and punching a shark; real or mechanical didn't matter at that point. The kind of fuck capable of stripping a submissive right out of herself, of leaving her so exhausted and sated and mindless that she lost herself to everything except where she stopped and he started, and perhaps not even that.

  He closed his eyes, simply basking in the orgasmic high of the absolute power he'd held over her body. She was so responsive, so innocent. He'd never played with a submissive who yielded with such openness, giving him everything without an apparent thought to all the things she ought to hold back. He'd almost forgot himself in there. When he'd felt her sweet body bearing down, with those first warning ripples of flesh on the verge of orgasm, it had been his strongest desire to just keep fucking. Pulling out when every rock-hard inch of him had wanted to keep on pounding had been as close to self-torture as he'd yet experienced.

  Who was he kidding? Why start or even stop with her pussy alone? It was all of her that he wanted. Every intoxicating curve, from that mouth that had smiled at him from behind the prison bars in the Glory Ho's hold (probably never suspecting how close she had come to having him grab her by her scalp and her jaw while he fucked her face) to the curve of her ass. The thought of taking her that way made his already hard cock throb.

  Dominick concentrated on calming his breathing—slow in, slow out—but the image of Maddy bent and vulnerable before him, the shadow of all her openings simply waiting for him to make a choice, stayed with him. The only reason he'd limited himself to the rough pounding he'd given her was because when he took her ass—and he absolutely would; his pulse quickened—he did not want her in a punishment frame of mind.

  He was not a gentle man. Gentle was for vanillas; he'd never had any interest in it. And tender was what she would be after he was done. It was who he was, how he was wired. The best part of sinking his cock into a good, tight-fitting ass was the gasps and moans it elicited, the grunting cries as he drove himself in balls deep, the writhing undulations as he made it hurt and still made them cum in spite of it.

  Too bad he'd already told Maddy that cumming was forbidden. That limited him. He hated being limited, but while he had never been too far above delivering a vigorous anal punishment when it suited him, that was not what he wanted Maddy to be thinking about the first time he took her that way. He wanted her cries, her tears, her beautiful sweat-soaked body arching back to meet him, as hungry for him to get deeper as he was to be there, and if she spent all the next morning kneeling instead of sitting, and mewling at the tenderness of having to hold an ice pack to her abused anus, so much the better. It would be his lifelong fantasy to imagine how she might someday come to him, crawling the way she had aboard the Glory Ho, tears in her eyes and the words 'naughty girl' on her trembling lips, knowing she was giving him all the ammunition he didn't need to grant her that kind of release. But not when it was her first time.

  Not when punishment was the last thing she'd earned.

  Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the two closed offices just down the hall. Just that quickly, all the calm Dominick had been struggling to build abandoned him. Teeth gritted, hands balled into fists, he started walking.

  Though it was Tessa he wanted to rip into most, Dominick entered the other office first. Sally and her three accomplices; two brunettes and a short-haired blonde, all of them still dressed in their tavern-wench costumes despite his edict to change (which made him wonder if perhaps, like the Castle, civilian clothes were forbidden in the resort) jumped to their feet.

  "I just talked to Rita," Sally blurted, before he even closed the door. "She's on her way." He opened his mouth but she threw up both hands, stopping him with a rapid and shaky, "Please wait. Before you say anything, just listen. This is my fault entirely, not theirs."

  Dominick glanced at her companions, all of whom stared back and forth between her and him, wide-eyed. Under his withering frown, shame crawled across their features.

  "I told them to do what they did," Sally continued. "That's not an excuse, I know it's not. But I knew better."

  "We all knew better," the blonde interjected.

  "Yes, you did," Dominick agreed in a low, stern voice.

  "But I was in charge," Sally pressed on. "Don't you see? I told them to do it, and they did because I was in charge. So if you're going to fire someone, fire me. But please give them a second chance. Rita…" she broke off tearfully, biting her bottom lip to stop its trembling, "Miss Moberly said if it was left up to her, she'd fire us all on the spot. But she said you're in charge while you're here and that whatever you decided, that's what will happen."

  "Is that so?" Dominick studied each of the four women, at the way they wrung their hands and shifted from one guilty foot to the other, before finally nodding. "Take a lap," he told them and stepped away from the door to grant an easy exit.

  Startled, they all looked at one another.

  "You heard me." Irritation showing, he shooed Sally's accomplices toward the door. "Go on, get! Start at the front gate of town and hug the right of the road, into every alley and dead end all the way to the governor's mansion and back again. If I catch you walking, you'll get another lap. Go."

  Casting Sally mixed glances of sympathy and reluctance, the women filed out the door past him. Once they were alone, Sally seemed to get smaller.

  Folding his arms across his chest, Dominick scowled at her in silence. The slump of her shoulders, the way she picked at her fingers while stealing teary glances at him, waiting and dreading for him to just say it, "You're fired," and get it over with—it was getting the best of her. He could see it, bubbling up inside her, and knew it would soon reach a point where she'd be unable to wait for the proverbial axe to strike. Pissed as he was, he couldn't help but think that, without Tessa, neither Sally nor her friends would have treated Maddy so cruelly.

  More than that, though, Dominick remembered friends who had done similar things during the Castle's first year. It was a thin line—finding ways to get guests into trouble in order to keep their experiences exciting and fun, and joining other guests in ventures with disastrous consequences. Some of those past friends, Marshall had dismissed from service. Others, he had given second c
hances. Standing in front of Sally now, Dominick found himself wishing he knew the method by which Marshall had made those choices. If he let Sally stay and she did something like this to someone else, a real paying guest… He bristled at the thought. On the other hand, without Tessa to spur the misbehavior on… But no, the world was full of people like Tessa. There would always be someone just like her.

  He sighed, his frown deepening and eyes narrowing. He made his decision just as Sally found her breaking point.

  "I'll go pack," she whispered, losing whatever thin control she had at keeping back her tears. She would have bolted out the door, but he caught and slammed it shut before she could run away. He never touched her. He didn't have to; she yanked back before she got that close and then stood there, hugging herself while she quietly broke down.

  "Do you really want me to fire you?" he asked.

  Crying, she shook her head.

  "Are you ever going to do anything that mean and stupid again?"

  She threw him a fierce glare, one equal parts tears and anger. "Never!" she vowed. "I swear it!"

  "What should you have done instead?"

  "I don't know!" She slashed at her eyes with the backs of both hands, then folded them tight across her stomach again. "Notified a Master, maybe. Let him figure it out while I went back to work! I don't know! I—"

  Snapping his fingers, when Dominick pointed at her, she shut her mouth. "That would have been a far better solution than the one you chose." He held onto his resurging anger, but only just. "What you did today will have repercussions that Maddy…" his arm snapped out, pointing through the wall toward the far end of the hall, "my Maddy will remember in every dark insecure moment of her life for weeks, if not longer! You hurt my—"

  His what? He stopped. His submissive? But she wasn't his. His friend? He barely knew her. He'd fucked her, but that was all, and what did that say, anyway? He had fucked countless women, more than he could put a name to. It was amazing how many of those half-remembered faces began to take on Maddy's features while he stood there, mouth gaping.