A Bona Fide Gold Digger

by Allison Hobbs

  “Yes, sir. I do,” she replied between the kisses that she tenderly placed on each of his toes.

  He pulled his foot away and slipped it back inside the sandal. “But I distinctly told you that I didn’t want you to damage the appearance of your knees.” He sighed. “I’m disappointed, Milan. Deeply disappointed.”

  Panic seized her. “I’m sorry; I forgot…sir.”

  “It’s time for you leave, Milan. Go home and think about our session. I’ll call you in a few days.”

  “Please, sir. Don’t make me leave. I’m so very sorry. It was a lapse in judgment; I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “Milan,” Gerard said, using a patient tone. “I don’t enjoy dispensing corporal punishment. It shouldn’t be necessary this soon.” He solemnly walked around the desk and sat in the swivel chair. “Obviously, the only way you’re going to learn is through discipline. I want you to get undressed. Hurry! Take off your clothes.”

  “Everything?” she asked worriedly. She was sweaty from the workout and didn’t want to offend him with body odor.

  “Yes, get naked and lie on top of the desk,” he ordered her as he cleared away papers and other clutter from the surface of the desk.

  Milan twisted her torso to pull the spandex top over her head. Burning with shame, she stripped down to bra and panties. Gerard sat in the swivel chair and coolly observed her as she nervously shed her undergarments.

  chapter twenty-seven

  Butt naked and quivering in fear, Milan hoisted herself atop the desk. The wood felt cold beneath her exposed buttocks. “Should I lie on my stomach?” she asked, assuming she was going to get a spanking.

  “No. I want you on your back.”

  Milan did as she was told. No longer concerned about emitting an unpleasant odor, she would have spread her legs in a hot second if he wanted her to. She hoped fucking her forcibly was Gerard’s idea of punishment. But she knew that was only wishful thinking. Gerard would not give her the thing she craved most, not this early in their relationship.

  “Close your eyes,” he said in a stern whisper.

  She closed her eyes. She heard a desk drawer sliding open. Her eyelids fluttered in nervous expectation. What was he taking out of the drawer? A dildo? She preferred getting a flesh and blood dick, but wasn’t opposed to being penetrated by a sex toy.

  Then again, maybe he had a paddle hidden in the desk. If he intended to spank her, why had he instructed her to lie on her back? Waves of anticipation mingled with strong sexual desire caused her nipples to stiffen. Her entire body ached with desire.

  Without warning, her nipples exploded in pain. She gasped and shrieked in horror. Something horribly tight had been clamped on them. Reflexively, her eyelids flew open. “Keep your eyes closed,” Gerard commanded. Instantly, Milan squeezed her tear-moistened eyes shut, but not before Gerard placed a blindfold over them. Being deprived of sight was scary. And stimulating.

  Something cold—a metallic necklace-like object—dangled between her breasts. She shivered and shook so badly, the necklace began to clink, creating a faint rustling sound. Through the haze of pain, Milan began to understand what was happening. Gerard had fastened pincers to her nipples. She’d seen the torturous devices in sex stores, in catalogs, on websites, but she had never imagined being tormented with the creepy-looking twin clamps that were connected by a metal link chain.

  “Is your pussy wet, Milan?” Gerard asked seductively.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  “Wrong answer,” he said and began to roughly twist the pincers, turning them back and forth until Milan uttered an agonized whine. Amazingly, her clit swelled in response to the intensified nipple pain. She clenched her fist and bit on her lip to stifle a moan as her pussy began to tighten with yearning hunger. Never in her life had she experienced a sensation that hurt so good.

  “Is your pussy still wet?”

  “No!” she quickly shouted, not wanting the pain to escalate.

  “I’ll have to check. Dishonesty is unacceptable, so I hope you’re not lying. Scoot down to the edge of the desk,” he ordered. “Put your feet up and open your legs.”

  Terrified and aroused at the same time, she slowly wriggled toward Gerard. As if she were getting a gynecological exam, she lay with her butt at the edge of the desk, her thighs spread wide, her pussy exposed.

  Tenderly, Gerard separated her pussy lips as if they were the petals of a rare and delicate flower. Milan moaned softly. Having such a sensitive area touched by Gerard’s magnificent hands was sheer bliss. It took every ounce of restraint not to hump his fingers and plead for any type of penetration—a fingertip, a knuckle, the side of his hand. As if annoyed by her uncontrolled moan, Gerard roughly pulled her labia apart, stretching her pussy lips and forcing her hole fully open. He inserted a finger and Milan shuddered. Her vaginal muscles clenched around his long finger, and her hips began to move.

  He rotated his finger. “Does it feel good?” Gerard asked, inspecting her pussy.

  She stopped moving. Unsure of how to answer, she muttered an incoherent guttural sound. With his face only inches away from her pussy, Milan was losing her mind hoping beyond hope that his lips and tongue would soon connect with her tingling pussy.

  “What did you say? I didn’t understand your response.” Gerard’s breath taunted her, tickled her pussy, made her pant and hump without shame.

  “Yes, it feels good, sir,” she admitted.

  He withdrew his finger. “You lied to me.”

  “What?” she asked, her mind in turmoil.

  “Your pussy is wet,” he said accusingly and then wiped his sticky finger across one and then the other of her clamped tender nipples. The creak of the desk drawer opening put a chill down Milan’s spine. What object of torture would Gerard use on her now? Could she endure more pain?

  Her rambling thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of something cold and hard being stuffed into her vagina. It didn’t have the shape or feel of a dildo. Whatever it was, part of it protruded from her vagina. It was something totally unfamiliar.

  Milan jerked as if she’d been given an electrical shock at the unmistakable sound and smell of a match being struck. Oh my God, what did he plant in my pussy—a stick of dynamite?

  “Do you trust me, Milan?” Gerard’s voice held a hypnotic quality that eased her confused mind, and seemed capable of putting her in an erotic trance.

  She believed that whatever was in her pussy was going to hurt her. Badly. But it wouldn’t kill or permanently maim her. “Yes, I trust you sir,” she responded, her voice filled with devotion.

  The heat from the lighted match warmed her open thighs as Gerard taunted her with the small flame. Then the warmth traveled to her vagina. She inhaled sharply. “Do you still trust me?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said with an uncertain tremble in her voice.

  “Don’t move,” he warned and lit another match. She wanted to jump off the desk and run, but she obeyed him and lay perfectly still. Without burning her flesh, Gerard deftly singed the pubic hairs that surrounded her labia. The crackle and smell of burning hair was horrifying, but she endured the punishment without flinching.

  When he finished searing her pubic hair, he lit yet another match. Had her bravery incited him to take the fire play to another level? Maybe she should have whimpered and moaned. “Sir?” Her voice cracked. “I’m afraid, sir.”

  “As I feared, you don’t trust me. Okay, Milan…I’ll stop.” He pulled the object out of her vagina.

  Still blindfolded, Milan had no idea what he’d removed from her pussy, but she knew she wanted him to replace it. Not because it felt good, it didn’t. The object felt foreign, cold, and uncomfortable. But being with him, even under the most extremely painful circumstances, was better than being away from him.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I was scared for just a moment. But I do trust you. Honestly. I do.”

  He took in her words, but didn’t speak. Then, he eased the object back inside her and lit
a match. Milan heard a sizzling sound. Tiny sparks flickered against her inner thighs. In an instant, she realized that a candle had been inserted inside her vagina. She also became aware that the candle was lit. The knowledge that hot melted wax would soon spill on her exposed labia made her eyes pool with tears that dampened the blindfold.

  An apprehensive moan issued from her lips. Gerard rose from his seated position and stood over her. His towering presence filled her with excitement and fear.

  His full lips touched her aching clamped nipple. He kissed the distended, inflamed tit, soothed it with the tip of his tongue. Milan shivered in delight. Gerard nibbled at the swollen nipple before shocking her by biting deeply into the irritated flesh. At that exact moment, hot wax dribbled down between her legs, scorching her thighs and pussy lips.

  Milan yelled. The sound was a mixture of passion and pain.

  Her pussy made a squishy sound when he extracted the thick candle. Her labia, stiff and heavy from the dried candle wax, were stuck together. Gerard used his fingers to pry them apart; the pain was indescribable.

  Milan grimaced from unqualified pain while Gerard peeled the dried wax from her enflamed pussy lips. “I don’t like hurting you, Milan,” he told her in a somber tone. “I hope I won’t have to punish you like this anytime soon.”

  “You won’t, sir. I promise.”

  “Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”

  Milan bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically. “I’m sorry for making you hurt me, sir.” Unable to control her emotions, she began to sob. “Forgive me. Please.”

  “I forgive you,” he said and then removed the blindfold.

  She blinked as her vision adjusted to the bright room. Milan remained in position as Gerard returned to his seat. He softly touched her open slit. “Your vagina is beet red. Is it still sore?”

  It hurt like hell but she didn’t know whether to lie or tell him the truth. She opted for the truth. “It hurts very badly, sir, but I deserved it,” she said. “I appreciate the extra training time you gave me,” she added, pouring on the praise.

  Milan noticed that Gerard’s pattern of breathing changed slightly. He must have liked her responses. Without preamble, he dipped his middle finger into her open slit. With his moistened finger, he gently massaged her reddened labia, circling the tender lips until they glistened with her sticky wetness.

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  “Does your sore pussy feel better?”

  “Much better,” she replied breathily.

  He stuck his finger in deeper, rotating it as he extracted more thick, syrupy juice. Milan couldn’t help herself. She pushed down on his middle digit, humping it like it was the penis she yearned for. Gerard’s hand went suddenly still and then he eased his finger out of Milan’s hot hole. Oh no! What did I do? Her heart raced with fear. She couldn’t endure any more pain.

  “Are you trying to steal an orgasm? Are you trying to cum without permission?” His tone suggested more punishment was imminent. “Your thieving cunt is undeserving of my finger.”

  “Yes,” she confessed. “I was trying to cum without your permission. My pussy’s a disgusting thief. A kleptomaniac. I try, but I can’t control it.” Again, she heard Gerard’s breathing quicken. Her self-deprecating words obviously pleased him. She smiled to herself, delighted that she was slowly learning the way to his heart.

  “I’m touched by your honesty but I can’t put my finger inside a conniving cunt.”

  “I understand,” she said sadly.

  “Stay in position, but don’t touch yourself,” Gerard warned her and left her alone in the basement, lying naked atop his desk.

  Needing desperately to be fucked with something, Milan moaned in frustration, but she obeyed Gerard and kept her hands to herself. A few minutes later, Gerard returned. He presented a large unripe banana. She longed to have his finger back inside her, but resolved to make the best out of the situation.

  Sitting at his desk, Gerard took his time peeling the banana. When he’d pulled the banana skin halfway down, he inserted the rigid fruit into her throbbing vagina. Milan’s starved pussy tried to gobble the fruit up. The soft moist banana skin soothed her injured vaginal lips and teased the sensitive hood of her clit while the phallic-shaped meat of the fruit provided unmeasured pleasure.

  Slowly, Gerard eased the banana in and out, then increased the speed. In less than five minutes, Milan tensed, and her eyes became glazed. She made gurgling sounds as if choking from passion as the familiar tingling surged through her body. The building climax had a dizzying effect; blood rushed to her head. Her body shook and her pelvis rotated at a frenzied pace as she strained to reach an orgasm. Finally, her knees locked together and Milan writhed in mad ecstasy as she climaxed. Her juices gushed and flooded out over the banana, making it soggy and limp.

  On the way home, Milan drove with her thighs separated. Her pussy hurt. So did her tits. She drew a deep, satisfying breath. The physical discomfort was a warm reminder that Gerard had taken the time out of his busy day to properly train her. Being humiliated was kinky and had aroused her. But being disciplined with nipple clamps and hot wax had taken her to new heights of ecstasy. Just thinking about what Gerard had done to her created an excitement that was evident by the creamy moistness that formed between her open legs. Mere humiliation and verbal abuse, though sexually stimulating, would never get her off the way the erotic merging of pain with pleasure had.

  She pondered her new sexual identity. Could a person suddenly exhibit submission traits or had she always needed a firm hand to guide her? Gerard had said he didn’t like to use corporal punishment, but he’d revealed another part of her subconscious desires that she hadn’t known existed. With growing realization that she’d stepped way outside the parameters of what was considered normal, Milan knew that she would eagerly follow Gerard’s lead down every dark corridor that lurked inside his mind.

  chapter twenty-eight

  Ruth Henry flitted past Milan wearing a smug smile. Milan figured the bookworm nurse was gloating because she’d managed to fill her voracious reading appetite without disturbance while Milan was out of the house.

  “Did you give Mr. Brockington his soothing?” Milan barked as she pulled off her coat.

  “Actually, no,” the nurse said casually. “We were waiting for you to get home before I start the procedure.”

  Milan scowled. “What are you talking about? What procedure?”

  Ruth Henry’s face flushed with excitement. “I think Mr. Brockington should explain. He asked me to send you to his suite the moment you got home.”

  Milan sucked her teeth. She was getting quite sick of being summoned to Noah’s room. She wanted to go straight to her own bedroom, have Irma bring her a meal, and spend the remainder of the day fantasizing about Gerard. But if she expected to stay in Noah’s good graces, it would behoove her to go upstairs and see what he wanted.

  Wearing a navy dressing gown and sitting up straight in the lush velvet chair, Noah Brockington looked amazingly healthy. It was a frightening sight. Had that smirking nurse been slipping him some new wonder drug? Milan wanted to ask him outright if he still expected to expire on schedule as promised. She’d been crossing off the weeks and according to her calculations, he had less than four months to live.

  “I believe I owe you an apology, my dear,” Noah said.

  “Uh, you don’t owe me an apology,” Milan stammered. “I know you want to make sure your friends are impressed at our wedding.”

  “My dear, you misunderstand,” Noah said with a chuckle. “I want to apologize for suggesting that you see a specialist.”

  Still confused, Milan squinted and nodded dumbly.

  “As you know, I don’t trust doctors and it would be the height of hypocrisy to insist that you put up with the poking and prodding of a physician when I wouldn’t allow it myself.”

  Taken aback by Noah’s sudden change of heart, Milan was momentarily speechless. Then, relieved that Noah had com
e to his senses, she smiled—a big cheesy grin. She’d never intended to go through with the pregnancy, she didn’t even like entertaining the thought of having to bear his child. He’d finally come to the realization that someone as jacked-up as he would unquestionably produce a horribly deformed and monstrous baby.

  “So, after putting our heads together, Ruth and I concluded—”

  Ruth! When did he start calling his nurse by her first name? And what in God’s name had the two creeps concluded? Milan braced herself for the distasteful information.

  “We thought it best if you underwent at-home insemination. We considered freezing my ejaculation after she provides her daily soothing, but Ruth says fresh semen is more effective.”

  I’m throwing up in my mouth! Milan’s hand reflexively covered her lips. Dry heaving, her body spastically jerked forward.

  Noah ignored Milan’s theatrical reaction. “Ruth’s quite competent and will oversee the procedure. Considering my short life expectancy, I decided to give myself the gift of life before I pass on,” Noah said with a chuckle.

  She’d always known Noah was insane, but the degree of his insanity had gone undetected. It was time to get the hell out of his house. Milan knew she should be in her room quickly packing, but morbid curiosity kept her rooted in place. “The gift of life?” she asked meekly.

  “Yes, instead of having you inseminated after I’ve gone on to the great unknown, I’ve decided to get started right away. I’ll feel as though my time on earth has been worthwhile if you conceive my heir while I’m still alive.”

  Milan shook her head. “That’s not stipulated in the contract, Noah. You can’t suddenly—”

  “My dear,” he said in a tolerant tone, “I’ve added an addendum to the contract. It’s in the top desk drawer.” He waved a hand in the direction of the desk she’d never seen him utilize.

  Walking as if in a trance, Milan went to the desk and retrieved the addendum. As she hastily eyed the legalese, Noah babbled excitedly. “Now, in order to determine when you’re ovulating, Ruth will need a urine specimen and the exact date of your last menstrual cycle. But for back-up insurance, just in case you get the dates mixed up, I don’t want to miss an opportunity. So we’ll be getting started today.”