by Roxie Noir
That night she wore the shoes with the locks, the corset, a thong, a garter belt and thigh-highs, and a belted red wiggle dress that looked very retro but showed off her ass and tits beautifully. She’d bought it in the waning days of her relationship with Ethan, hoping to spark something — anything — but it had mostly failed.
Mr. Declan wasn’t in the car this time, and so she sat, quietly, the partition up, as the car made the long drive from her Brooklyn neighborhood to the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the lights of New York City sliding past the windows as she looked out.
The ball gag was in her purse. Just for good measure, so were the vibrating panties. He hadn’t told her to bring them, but she did just in case. She wanted to be a good girl.
Finally the car pulled up and her driver opened the door with a gloved hand, helping her out. After escorting her to the curb, he bowed slightly.
“Room seven-twenty-four, Miss,” he said, and then Valerie walked into the hotel by herself.
Chapter Seventeen
When she knocked on the door to room 724, it was loud, hard sound. Somehow, even the knock sounded expensive. Even though she’d thought she looked good before she left her apartment, the mirrors in the elevator seemed to pick out the cheapness of the fabric of her dress, her drugstore makeup, her fake-leather purse. Another woman, wearing some sort of fur shawl, had joined the elevator in the lobby just before the doors closed, and Valerie had spent the whole ride looking at it, thinking: I had no idea people still wore fur. I thought that went out of style in the sixties.
Then the door swung open and Jasper was there, a glass in his hand, immaculate as always. He looked a little more relaxed than he did at work, in ways that Valerie was just beginning to notice. He wore no tie, for starters, and the very top button of his collar was open. His hair wasn’t perfectly in place; in fact, it looked like he hadn’t even styled it that day.
“Come in,” he said. “How was the trip over?”
Valerie put her purse on a small table that held flowers in a vase in the lush hotel suite and followed her boss down a short hallway, past a door on either side, to a room with two couches, a fireplace, and a balcony.
“It was fine,” she said. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Her heart was beginning to beat harder with excitement, and she could feel the heat rising to her skin, making her blush.
Jasper walked to a bar cart and lifted a bottle. “Brandy?” he asked.
“I’d love some,” she said. She settled on a white leather chair in front of the fire, crossing her legs. She was wearing thigh-highs and no underwear, of course, and for a moment she thought about flashing him, then decided against it.
Wait for him to make the move, she thought. There was a low pulsing in her cunt. She wanted to throw herself at him, hike her skirt up and bend over, but instead she sipped at the drink he gave her, batted her eyelashes.
“What’s Brooklyn like these days?” he asked, suddenly.
“Full of hipsters,” she said.
“That’s not you?”
“Maybe a little,” she said. She took a sip of her drink and thought about it. “I guess, kind of. I seem to end up at a lot of the same places that hipsters do.”
“I’m always surprised when I read about how popular and cool Brooklyn has gotten,” he said. He moved to stand behind her. “When I was your age it was mostly residential. Lots of Hasids and Puerto Rican neighborhoods, almost the suburbs. Now it’s the place to be.”
“I guess,” said Valerie, taking another sip. She had nearly forgotten about the age difference between her and Jasper but here it was again, full force: he was more than twice her age. It was strange, to say the least.
He began stroking her hair, his long, graceful fingers finding their way down to her neck, and she closed her eyes and released herself to him, mentally, at least. His touch sent the whisper of a tingle down her neck, through her whole body. Her cunt remembered, again, why she’d come, and she felt herself get warm and wet.
I hope I don’t leave a wet spot on this couch, she thought to herself.
Then she took the final sip of brandy and it burned, sweet, down her throat. She set it on the glass coffee table and the firelight shone against it.
His hands had moved to the neck of her dress and his fingers dipped underneath it, along her collarbones, toward her breasts, around her shoulders. He undid the top button of the dress, then the second, leaning over her a little.
She sat, still and quiet, waiting.
“Did you bring it?” he asked, his voice low.
“Of course,” she said.
“Stand up.”
Valerie obeyed.
“Come around here and face me,” he said, and she did.
Standing right in front of her, he undid the last two buttons on her dress — it unbuttoned only to the waist — and then, after a long look at her body, lifted her chin in his fingers and kissed her.
He’d never done that before, and after a moment of surprise, Valerie kissed him back. His mouth was warm and firm, his tongue insistently groping at her lips and teeth and tongue, somehow even that part of him commanding, dominant. Valerie felt as though she was melting beneath him, a vessel, waiting to be filled.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, breaking the kiss and stepping away from her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He seems... gentler, somehow, she thought.
Then she thought, I hope he’s not gentler all the time.
“Go get it,” he said.
Valerie obeyed, quickly bringing the ball gag out of her purse and to him.
Mr. Declan took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. That room was beautiful and plush, too, the duvet obviously expensive, each pillow with a chocolate on it. Every surface in the room suggested money in its own way: the marble-topped tables with vases full of flowers, the beautiful, clean, soft carpet, the pillow fluffed just-so.
As soon as he closed the door, Valerie felt a hand between her legs, pushing her skirt up, on her thigh and then past her stockings and then stroking her wet cunt, the fingers just barely slipping between her lips.
“Good girl,” he murmured, into her ear, his breath sending little shivers of delight down her spine. Then he took her dress by the shoulders and eased it off of her, leaving her panty-less and wearing a corset, heels, garters, and stockings in the middle of the bedroom. He tossed the dress gently over the chair and then stepped behind her.
Valerie could feel his cock between her ass cheeks, suddenly. It was still in his pants, the expensive material separating them, but there it was, big and long and unmistakably hard as a rock.
He undid the clasps on her corset, one by one, making her wait. Waiting was its own form of torture, Valerie thought, and then she was out of it, the corset also tossed onto the chair.
Mr. Declan strode to a small leather briefcase Valerie hadn’t noticed, sitting on one of the chairs. From it he drew the nipple clamps, again, snapping them together for Valerie to watch. He ran then through his fingers, the heavy chain dropping and tinkling, and he watched her reaction.
She felt her nipples go hard in anticipation, waiting for the pleasure/pain combination promised. She bit her lip, wanting them on her, again, so cold and hard.
More than that, even, she wanted him inside her, wanted him to fuck her as hard as he could, thrusting and thrusting, desperately, until he spilled himself inside her.
Just the thought of it made her weak at the knees.
Then he was there, in front of her, putting the clamps on as she grit her teeth for a minute, the sensation like tiny lightning bolts coursing through her tits, mostly good and a little painful. As it turned out, that was exactly the way she wanted it.
Fuck me, she begged him with her eyes. He bent and teased her nipples with his tongue, making her close her eyes and gasp, then emit a tiny moan. Mr. Declan smiled. Then he gestured at the foot of the bed, a wrought-bronze thing.
“Go grab onto the middle of tha
t,” he said. “Don’t let go.”
She did as she was told, taking the cold metal in her hands. As soon as she had it, Jasper was behind her, holding something hard against her mouth, and she opened it: the ball gag. It spread her jaw wide, almost uncomfortable, and she bit down hard, almost without meaning to. He fastened it behind her head carefully, not getting any of her hair stuck.
Whatever his inclinations, he’s a gentleman, thought Valerie.
“Don’t let go,” he told her.
She nodded, unable to speak.
“The safe symbol is two fingers, crossed, and held up, like this, he said, showing her his crossed fingers in the air. “It’s a nonverbal hippopotamus.”
Valerie nodded again.
“Get ready,” Jasper whispered.
Then, something whistled through the air and struck Valerie, right on the back of her thighs through her stockings. She gasped around the gag, through her mouth and nose all at once, her grip on the bed frame tightening. Even after the flogger left her skin she could feel a thick welt there, tingling and stinging. Her knees trembled.
It hit her again.
This time she stayed quieter, biting down into the hard rubber of the ball gag, making only a low grunt from her chest. He’d hit her in a different place and the same sensations flooded through her: stinging, tingling, pain, pleasure. Her cunt was right there, open to the air, to anything he wanted to do with it, and she could feel herself practically dripping.
Jasper struck her again and again, staying perfectly silent. Valerie’s knees were going weak, her legs shaking as she stood on her toes, in the heels, torso bent ninety degrees. Her palms went sweaty where she was holding onto the bed frame, but she didn’t move, didn’t look backward at him. He hadn’t told her to.
The next two strikes were still on her thighs, and then, at last, he struck her ass, right across the middle, the thickest part. Valerie grunted again, not meaning to, and for her efforts, the next strike just brushed her pussy lips, just barely stinging them, the sensation a shock through her whole system, every nerve ending going off in a flurry.
He struck her once more, and then she heard the flogger drop to the floor.
“You did so well,” he said, bringing one hand slowly down her back, between her butt cheeks, through her dripping slit. He caressed the welts he’d raised, though he hadn’t broken the skin. His fingers felt so cool and good on them. Her legs were still shaking hard, and her back felt near muscle failure.
“Stand and then sit on the bed,” he said.
Valerie obeyed, sinking down into the plush duvet. Down, it felt like, probably worth an entire month’s salary.
Gently, he took the ball gag out of her mouth, a single strand of saliva following it as he removed it. She rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth and swallowed, hard.
“Lie back,” he said, and she did. He was still fully clothed, wearing his shirt and pants, but even against hope, she wanted him to fuck her.
“Turn over and stretch out your arms,” he said. She did, and then he walked around the bed, calmly., handcuffing each wrist to the bedframe, locking her in place.
Then he took something else out of the briefcase and walked around to the opposite side of the bed, holding up a silver object: tapered, and then flared at the base.
Valerie knew what a buttplug looked like.
“I’m going to begin training you,” he said. “This is a starter, but I’ll be using thicker and thicker ones as we progress.”
Valerie’s stomach squirmed. Even though she’d offered out of desperation, she’d never actually had anal sex before. She’d never put anything in there.
He went on, softly. “You’re to wear this twenty-four-seven, except in times of necessity. I doubt I need to spell that out for you.”
Valerie shook her head no, arms still spread wide, still pinned down on the bed.
“We’ll begin, then,” he said.
Finally, Valerie couldn’t keep it in anymore. Her cunt ached and ached, and ache that couldn’t be filled with machines or dildos or fingers. She wanted a cock in there. His cock.
She worked up her courage.
“Does that mean you’ll...” she trailed off. She wasn’t sure how to phrase the question: fuck me seemed like something a harlot might say. “...Have sex with me yourself?” she finished.
She felt like her heart was shaking the entire bed.
“What do you mean?” he asked, softly.
“I mean, you and me, having sex,” she said. “I like this. It’s wonderful, it’s things I’ve never felt before. But I want... I want you,” she went on, the words rushing out now. “Here I am, naked and ass-up and vulnerable all the time, and I’ve never even seen you naked.”
Jasper looked at her for a long, long time. Valerie was positive that he was going to untie her and ask her to leave. Politely, of course, but that almost made it worse. She wanted him to shout, yell at her.
Instead, he put the buttplug in his pocket. Then he untucked his shirt, never breaking eye contact with her.
And then he unbuttoned it, slowly, from top to bottom, and tossed the shirt onto the chair with Valerie’s dress.
Her first, dumb thought was: he must work out all the time. He didn’t look like it when he was wearing clothes, but shirtless, his chest and abs and arms all looked sculpted, more muscled than she would have thought.
Her next thought was simply: damn.
Then he took the plug out of his pocket, smeared something on it, and put it to her back hole.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“You’ll pay,” he whispered, his lips right on her ear, the cold, hard plug hard up against her hole. He pushed it a little, and Valerie tried to relax, tried to let the plug through. Slowly, she felt herself being stretched out, little by little, as she breathed harder and harder.
Then his fingers were on her clit, too—no, not his fingers, something else, hard and buzzing, and then all at once her ass relaxed, the plug slipped in and it felt wonderful.
Valerie moaned into the expensive duvet, feeling the sensation inside her rise fast and hard, like it always did when he used a vibrator on her. Her back arched and her hips lifted, almost against her will, the pure animal instinct taking over.
“Oh,” she said, gasping for breath. “Oh, I’m com—“
Abruptly, he removed the vibrator from her.
Valerie’s mouth remained open, frozen in place. The metal tip of the vibrator moved between her lips, stroking her, teasing her.
Valerie swallowed, hard.
He turned it back on, just barely grazing her cunt, her lips, the folds there — just enough to let her know what was happening, but he wouldn’t touch her enough with the vibrator to let her come, to let any of that delicious sensation build up inside her. She squirmed and squirmed, arching her back and raising her ass, trying anything to get to that delicious feeling, but her handcuffs kept her tight to the bed. The plug in her ass didn’t help: she’d never known it could feel so good to have something in her ass, or that the nerve endings there were so sensitive. Everything she felt from the vibrator was intensified by the plug, until her body felt like an echo chamber of pleasure, going around and around with no release.
For a moment, he pressed it to her clit again, hard. She thought she heard his pants unzip but she couldn’t be sure over the sound of the vibrator. Then the vibrator left her totally, moving away across the room. She looked over her shoulder but could only see his back, and she let her head slump into the down duvet, barely still watching.
It was the dildo. The enormous dildo he’d fucked her with before, and he was bringing it back, glistening with something.
Involuntarily, Valerie moaned again, the sound breathy and tired. Jasper tapped the plug in her ass twice, the feeling sending a jolt through her.
“I’m going to fuck you with this,” he said, his voice low. “I’m going to stretch you out and fill you up, and you’re going to
come until you can’t come anymore.”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed.
He put the huge head against her, and then slid the monster in and in and in. Valerie could feel the plug in her ass shift, pushed a little out of the way by the enormous dildo, but her cunt felt hungry, felt like even that wasn’t enough. She moaned and moaned, trying to push herself back on it, fuck herself hard and fast, the way she ached for it. Instead Jasper was slow and controlled, pushing it in and out at a measured pace, no matter how much Valerie moaned and wriggled.
Just as she thought that maybe, just maybe, she would come, finally be satisfied, he stopped, the thing inside her up to the hilt.
And he walked away.
She was stuck on the bed, ass and pussy both full, aching with need and utterly helpless. Valerie breathed hard, the duvet beneath her soaked with sweat.
Finally he walked back in, brandy in hand. He took a sip and Valerie heard the clink when he set it on the marble bedside table. Then she heard the whir of the vibrator again and thought finally, thank God.
He pressed it to her and she came before she even had a moment to think, so turned on and ready that it was almost instantaneous. She thought her spine might leap out of her body or that she might go blind, it felt so good, rush after rush of pleasure passing through her body, unable to do anything but moan and moan, hoping that the hotel had good, thick walls.
She finished and the vibrator was still pressed to her now-sensitive nub, sending odd muscle spasms through her body. He was still moving the dildo inside her, and after a few moments, Valerie came again, still hard, her whole body moving and spasming. She could feel her cunt close on the dildo, trying to push it out but his hand was there, steady, making sure it moved as his pace.
Everything was at his pace.
That was her lesson, probably.
The vibrator stayed on her and Valerie kept coming, again and again, the orgasms now so close together it was hard to tell one from the next. It was beginning to hurt, just a little, the definite feeling that a body wasn’t meant to handle that much, but she still loved it, just came and came, utterly under his control, waiting for him to decide when it was over.