Diablo Blanco Club 1, Unfair Advantage

by Qwillia Rain

  She couldn’t see what he was doing. From the swish and sway of her hair against her back and the occasional tug on her scalp, Mattie guessed he was fashioning a braid out of her hair. But for what reason, she didn’t know. As for his assumption that spanking didn’t work on her, he was wrong. Dead wrong, she admitted as a gush of moisture flooded her pussy at the thought of his callused hand falling on her naked butt or the application of his flogger again.

  So caught up in the memories and images the thought of his paddling her again conjured, Mattie almost missed the rest of what he was saying.

  “So I’m going to have to try something a bit more extreme.” A soft thump punctuated his words before he slid from the bed.

  Pushing herself up onto her toes, Mattie was able to raise herself onto her elbows and follow his progress from the bed to the armoire. The brush of her hair against her shoulder distracted her long enough for her to confirm that she’d been correct. The disorderly curls had been wound into a neat, uniform braid and secured with a length of leather. By the time she turned back to where Bryce had been standing, he was gone.

  A door beside the armoire stood open, a soft light spilling into the shadowed room as the sound of drawers opening and closing filtered out to her. The straining muscles in the back of her calves and thighs protested her position. Flat-footed once again, Mattie rested her cheek against the duvet and watched as Bryce approached the bed. The low-wattage bulbs in the lamps beside the door and bed cast a soft glow through the room.

  Oh, cripes. She could feel her eyes going wide at the things he carried in his hands. It wasn’t fear but nerves that had her belly quivering. The tube of lubricant was familiar, as was the silver vibrator he’d begun using on her two days earlier. Her pussy heated and cream oozed onto her thighs at the memories that slender silver wand conjured. But the most arousing and unnerving item Bryce carried was a butt plug. Only this one was larger than the one currently in residence up her ass.

  “Bryce, I…” She didn’t know what she’d been about to tell him, but the single negative shake of his head halted her words.

  “Not interested, Lawrence.” Setting the items on the mattress, Bryce moved to stand behind her.

  Mattie waited, eyes closed, forehead resting on the duvet as Bryce’s hands smoothed over her hips, onto her bottom, and halted. In her mind’s eye, she imagined the red base of the plug she’d used looked incongruous nestled between the curves of her butt.

  “That’s two rules, Lawrence.” His words were husky, as if arousal and amusement vied for supremacy, and neither won.

  “Two?”

  “Rules one and two.” Bryce slid his hands over her butt and into the crease between, before tracing the base of the plug visible between the round cheeks of her bottom. “No other men—”

  “Wait,” she interrupted, twisting just enough to watch him over her shoulder. “I still say I wasn’t alone with another man at any time this evening until you brought me up here.”

  “—and no self-stimulation,” he finished, ignoring her.

  “Self-stimu—” Her questioning tone was choked off in a quick gasp as Bryce pulled on the device, sending an unexpected splinter of pain and pleasure through her body.

  When he tugged on it a second time, a shiver coursed through her body, stopping her breath and sending the muscles in her belly twitching in time with those deeper inside her pussy.

  “Let it go,” he urged, pulling carefully at the lodged plug. “Easy now.” His voice was smooth, quiet in the still room as he took his time coaxing the thick rubber device free.

  A whimper slipped past her lips as the tip left her body and the emptiness registered, but it was short-lived. First one, then a second finger, liberally coated with lubricant eased passed the outer muscles before retreating.

  Mattie couldn’t stop from calling out, her voice tight with need. “No!” Fighting the pressure he applied to her lower back with one hand to keep her still, she tried to push back.

  “Stop.” The command was firm and accompanied by a sharp slap to her bottom. A second smack on the opposite cheek had her squirming, but the attempts to draw him back halted.

  Quivering, her body desperate for release, Mattie fought her growing climax, knowing another punishment would be handed down if she came without permission. Considering what he was putting her through, she didn’t think she could handle a third.

  Shifting her grip, Mattie latched on to the leather strap securing her to the bed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she burrowed her forehead into the bedding and waited. When it finally came, she could have wept and screamed at the same time, instead she moaned, enjoying the sting of the thick tip of the plug Bryce pressed against her rear opening.

  “Push back, baby,” he purred.

  He’d seen the wide-eyed look filling her face when she’d caught sight of the large butt plug, and the smile on his lips had to have been disconcerting, but it wasn’t nervousness or fear—no—he’d forced his excitement down when he realized anticipation filled Mattie’s expression. He lubed the plug, then set the tip in place. As he pressed forward, he didn’t need to prompt Mattie. In the cheval mirror, he watched her eyes close and her mouth open in an excited gasp as she pushed back, relaxing her muscles so that the first bulb of the toy slid into place. Watching the first rounded tip slide inside had his cock leaking in his jeans.

  As the base grew larger, her gasps came more rapidly. He watched her fingers grip the leather her bindings were lashed to. Sliding one hand between the covers and her pussy, Bryce slipped his fingers between the drenched, weeping petals and circled the taut bundle of nerves. Fingering her clit, he pressed the next two bulbs on the plug into place, then felt her spasm against his fingertips as Mattie fought the orgasm winding through her.

  Her body shuddered beneath him, cries pouring from her lips, juices wetting his hand and dripping onto the soft black suede of the duvet. Leaning over her, Bryce crooned quiet sounds into her ear, soothing the fear he recognized on her face. Part of him was worried at the look. With the cataclysm pulsing through her body, desperate for release, and the source stemming from the alien feeling of her ass being penetrated, he’d known other lovers to balk and run from him once they’d regained their senses. He knew—hoped, prayed—Mattie wasn’t one of those.

  It took everything he had to keep from ripping open his pants and filling her pussy. The wet, red lips throbbed beneath his fingertips as he stroked her folds and waited for her ragged breathing to subside. He waited for her to regain control of her body before he continued pushing the remaining few inches of the plug into place.

  By the time the sixth and largest curve slipped inside, he was sure he would explode. More than the sight of the small red plug had aroused him. Knowing she’d intentionally defied him by overriding his instructions at the spa had his Dominant nature rearing up. He knew he’d judged her correctly as a woman willing to challenge him on every level. After this evening, she would have little doubt who was the master in their relationship.

  With the plug in place, he moved away from the bed, carrying the toy he’d removed into the bathroom and set it in the sink to clean later. Grabbing a clean cloth from the pile on the vanity, he ran warm water over it and squeezed out the excess before returning to the room and Mattie’s trembling form on the bed. Quick, smooth swipes of the hand towel removed the additional lubricant glistening on her skin.

  The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his mouth water at the thought of her cream wetting her pussy, sliding down her thighs. Fighting the urge to turn her onto her back and bury his face between her thighs, Bryce stripped off his T-shirt, the need to feel her skin against his overriding caution. Draping his larger body over hers, his legs forcing her open, he let one hand caress her white-knuckled grip on the strap, while the other insinuated its way between her shivering belly and the suede cover, damp from her sweat.

  Setting his lips close to her ear, he whispered, “When you come into our bedroom after
we marry, Lawrence”—he waited for the soft whimpers to grow quiet; then, slipping his hand from her stomach to the bare, swollen folds between her thighs, he stirred the warm fluid pooling there—“this sweet little pussy won’t last for very long.” One finger, then a second, delved between her puffy lips, teasing the hardened knot before sliding into the tight sheath. “And after I’ve worn it out with my attentions, I’m going to start on this sexy ass.”

  Shifting his hold from her hands and sex to her hips, he pulled her back just enough so she couldn’t gain purchase on the bedding. With her legs already spread to accommodate him, he thrust his hips into hers, butting up against the solid base of the plug and pressing it deep. Mattie cried out, incoherent mutterings, as Bryce shifted away, releasing the pressure before he moved forward again.

  This time her words weren’t muffled by the bedding. Twisting her head to look back at him over her shoulder, Mattie demanded in a hoarse, passionate voice, “Harder.”

  Her body tried moving backward toward him, but the way he had her stretched across the mattress, she had no leverage to work with. Leaning forward, his hips grinding hers into the soft duvet and firm mattress beneath, he growled, “What, baby?”

  “Oh God, please, harder, Bryce,” Mattie sobbed, trying to press back against him.

  Again he controlled her body, keeping her from shifting away or toward him.

  “Like this?” he taunted. Using the ridge of his swollen cock and the thick fold of material over the zipper of his jeans, he was able to shift the base of the plug while thrusting forward.

  Head arched back, hands fisting over the black leather strap, Mattie sobbed, “Yes, please, more.”

  Slipping one hand beneath her again, he found her swollen wet petals and parted them, exposing the taut kernel of nerves hidden there. Against the backs of his fingers, he felt the hard bend where the mattress ended. Moving between her legs, he spread her feet and adjusted her position until that sharp edge, blunted by the covers and the suede-wrapped duvet, ground against that most sensitive bit of flesh. Bracing her in place, he rocked and circled his hips against hers, pushing and rubbing that firm point against her body until her cream coated her thighs, soaking through the denim of his jeans, and she sobbed, begging for release.

  Pulling away, he deftly flipped her onto her back and spread her thighs before stepping between them. Face flushed, tears streaking her cheeks, Mattie trembled, her body quaking with arousal, desperate for the release he refused to give her permission to have. Stroking his hands slowly from her wrists to her shoulders, he soothed her, settling soft kisses against her cheeks. Licking away the salty tears coating her face before he moved to her thighs, he murmured soft reassurances to her but did nothing to reduce the need within her.

  The flavor of her juices and scent of her desire filled his head, but didn’t sway him from his purpose. Spanking hadn’t worked—she enjoyed the feel of his hand or the flogger on her round ass too much. Hell, she’d intentionally thwarted his instructions a time or two in the office just to have him paddle her ass. Not that he didn’t enjoy it himself, but if she was going to submit to him, she needed to understand that some punishments were supposed to be just that—punishments. Refusing to let her come after bringing her to the edge was one of the best methods he’d found to discipline a recalcitrant sub.

  Lapping up the cream coating her thighs, he moved to the nude flesh of her mound. Easing first one leg, then the other onto the bed, Bryce secured the D-rings on the ankle cuffs to the belt using the short lengths of chain he’d dropped onto the mattress. Now, spread for his pleasure, there was little his sexy little sub could do but let him play.

  “You didn’t follow instructions.”

  “I…I wasn’t alone,” she argued, her voice raspy as she arched toward the hand stroking her mound.

  “Was your master with you?” He held her gaze, waiting for her response.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then you didn’t follow instructions.”

  Again, she refused to admit it. “I did. I wasn’t—”

  The crisp sound of bare flesh on bare flesh echoed in the room as his hand landed firmly against her naked pussy with just enough force to stun rather than harm. He repeated his comment. “You didn’t follow instructions.”

  The sight of his hand lifting for another strike must have been all the convincing Mattie needed, despite the way her hips arched toward him desperate for the blow to land. “Yes.” She spat through gritted teeth. “I didn’t follow instructions.”

  “And?” He made sure no emotion or inflection leaked into his voice as he prompted her to respond.

  “And—” Defiance and fire blazed up at him before she forced her eyelids to drift closed. “And I need”—the rebellion was still there in her eyes as she met his gaze again, but banked now, behind curiosity and need—“to be punished.”

  “Yes, baby.” Bryce let his amusement slip free briefly. “You do.”

  Over the next two hours he stroked or tongued her to the edge, then stopped. Giving her body time to wind down, but not enough to relax completely, he waited before starting again. Three times he brought her close to climaxing before stopping, leaving her aching, desperate to come.

  No matter how she begged, cried, or pleaded, Bryce refused permission. By the third time, her eyes were glaring at him, but her words had gone silent, replaced by the steady moans and muffled cries of need.

  She seemed to know satisfaction wouldn’t be given no matter how long or hard she begged. Resigned to make it through the punishment he’d chosen, Bryce had watched her utilize every possible method of relaxation or slow breathing to combat the quivering need coursing through her body. Her nipples were flushed and angry red, swollen and hard from the suckling of his mouth and the pinching of his fingers. Even the lightest puff of breath across them had her holding her breath.

  Taking his time, he loosened the restraints binding her. First the chains securing her ankles close to her hips and then the strap holding her to the bed. Helping her to her feet, he set her clothes on the bed beside her. “Dress,” he ordered before he tugged his own T-shirt over his head. While he returned the belt, cuffs, and chains to the armoire, Bryce watched her careful movements in the cheval mirror beside the bathroom door.

  The plug was still in place and perhaps more awkward than the one he’d removed. From the slow and steady way she bent in order to step into her thong, it was apparent she was trying to adjust to the larger toy. Leaving her to finish, Bryce stepped into the bathroom.

  When he returned from cleaning the plug he’d removed, she’d barely donned her undergarments. Her breathing was unsteady, and her body swayed as she stood beside the bed trying to fit the front clasp of her bra together. Standing in front of her, Bryce eased her hands out of the way and deftly fastened the garment. “Did you enjoy your first visit to the Diablo Blanco?” he asked, wondering if she would respond with her usual fire or if the lesson he’d given her would temper her tongue.

  The humor and spirit were evident in her gaze as she reached for her blouse, her gaze holding his. “Some parts of it were fun, while others were”—she paused to draw a slow breath—“enlightening.”

  The trembling in her fingers made securing the buttons impossible, but again, Bryce saw to them. Shaking out her slacks, he held them so she could step into them. Pushing her hands away, Bryce eased them over her hips, his fingers taking their time to slide along her curves. As she reached to close and zip them, he stopped her. His left hand slipped inside her pants and beneath the wet silk of her panties. “Was your visit enlightening enough to remember what my five rules are?”

  “Oh God, don’t,” she begged, her fingers clutching at his forearms as her head came to rest against his shoulder.

  The damp lips of her pussy pulsed beneath his touch. The need trembled through her as warm cream coated his fingers. “What’s rule number one?”

  “N-no other men.” She gasped, her fingers digging into his
flesh at the stroke of his fingers around her clit.

  “Very good. And rule number two?” He eased one digit into her sheath, fighting back his own curse at the heat and tight grip he found there.

  She cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. “No…oh, no self-stimulation.”

  Pressing deep, he waited, then eased a second finger into her. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, and she arched onto her toes, grinding her forehead into his chest with a shaky sob. Sliding his other arm around her back, he caressed her from shoulder to waist in slow, steady strokes. “Rule number…”

  “Three. No restrictions on where and when you can touch me, as long as no employees are present.” Her words came out on soft puffs of air as if she fought for each one. Not waiting for him to ask, she continued, “Rule four, no orgasms without your permission. And five, use the safe word…” She shifted down, moaning as her body pulsed around the two fingers lodged within her. “Use the safe word,” Mattie repeated, “if I need to.”

  Lowering his lips to her ear, Bryce whispered, “Very good, baby. But don’t come; I haven’t given you permission.” Easing his fingers out of her, he took a step back. With her gaze locked on his, he slid his wet fingers into his mouth and savored the taste of her arousal.

  After licking every bit of her cream from his hand, Bryce swiftly fastened her pants and waited as she slipped her feet into her shoes. Placing a steadying arm around her waist, he led her out of the room, extinguishing the lights and locking the door behind him.

  Fighting the urge to swing her up in his arms and carry her back to Pirate’s Folly, Bryce forced himself to keep one arm around her waist and take each step slowly. Descending a set of stairs with a seven-inch butt plug up your ass and a body clamoring to orgasm, he reasoned, was likely to make anyone unsteady.

  There were still several patrons left in the Club as they moved toward the bar. Ben Murphy still held court, chatting and joking with Dayton Kringle as the younger man leaned on the teak bar, sipping at a squat tumbler of scotch. Mattie’s grip on his hand had him looking down at her as they neared the pair. Dipping his head toward her, he waited.