Roulette

by Sophie Haas

  “No. You take me. You take all of me. My fuck vessel.”

  “Yes, Wellsley.” And I did. Every last drop of him.

  “This cunt,” he murmured against my ear, “was made for my cock. My little cum bucket. Let’s go make you even more beautiful, girl.”

  He slid from me and I limply clung to the tub.

  Water drained out and I could barely focus. After he dried himself, he lifted me free and tended to me. I was boneless when he lay me on the bed. After vanishing into his closet to dress, he came back with a large duffle bag. It made a metallic clink when he set it down beside me and wasn’t that a little nerve-wracking.

  When he unzipped it, I was curious. Sitting up, I peered into a bag filled with black rope. Of course it was black. He lifted a vinyl case like thing and when he unrolled it, my eyes went wide at all the shiny rings, carabineers and items I didn’t recognize. He bobbed his eyebrows at me, reached under the bed and pulled a mat out.

  He patted the centre. “Stand here.”

  Sliding off the bed, I did as he ordered, shivering even though the room was warm. The windows let the sun in and it lit up his mat like a beacon.

  “Have you been suspended before?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. Eyes narrowing, he looked up at me, unravelling one coil of rope. I watched it, fascinated as he found the bite, the centre. “With some university friends. Well, not them. We played truth and dare once and because I was really curious, on my dares I said go to a sex club. So when I said dare...”

  “The purpose isn’t to do something you want, baby. Tell me about the suspension.”

  “I, uh, met a Dom.” My breath caught as Wells wrapped the rope around my waist then created an intricate knot. Reaching down, I ran my fingers over the smooth rope. I loved bondage: the texture against my skin, the relaxed sense of peace and safety I felt when I couldn’t move, the beautiful symmetry that came with many elements of bondage. I didn’t care. I loved it and loved how it made me feel. “He tied me up once.” Wells began to fashion a black harness on me, moving around me and my nipples tightened.

  “Did you fuck him?”

  Peeking up at his face, I cleared my throat. His expression was that cold one he got when he wasn’t happy. “Yes. It wasn’t...he wasn’t...I didn’t like him much.” He had been all about humiliation and I had learned I didn’t like being called a cunt or a slut. After three times with him, I discovered I always felt worse after seeing him and not better. “No humiliation, okay?”

  “I know,” he said. How? I don’t know but I didn’t want to ask, not with his next words. “Let’s get you on your knees.” He helped lower me to the mat then he fetched a step ladder. I blinked a few times at the fancy item he held. What the hell was that? Crouching before me, he hooked his finger under the bar. “This is a swivel. This is what you’re going to be hanging from.” He spun the rounded ended then pointed up at the rafter. He grabbed two more from his bag, went up the small ladder and tied them into place. This was way different than that other Dom. He had a steel frame that he had tied me too. Wells was using the thick log rafters. Now that I was looking up, I could see some shiny spots where he set the swivels.

  He was going to hang me up. My breathing grew a little choppy and I looked down at the black rope laced around me. My nipples were hard, my breasts seemed fuller and I traced over the first knot.

  Wells grabbed another coil and once again found the bite. There was something seductive in watching him run the rope through his fingers, his eyes studying me. He looked powerful and sexy in his dark grey slacks, white shirt and vest that matched his pants. Dressed like that, he should’ve looked like he was going to a business meeting. Instead he looked like he meant business. Dom business. Do wicked wicked things to Amy business.

  “There is nothing prettier than a submissive on her knees. I particularly like knowing that bondage does it for you. A pretty sub all trussed up? Lovely. Let’s see where the rope will go next.”

  My left arm. When he drew on the rope, bending my arm behind me I gasped, my pussy creaming. After he trapped my right arm the same way, my eyes closed. Anya’s gauntlets had been pretty but this was ten times better. He guided me down to my stomach then pushed fingers into me, making me writhe and cry out.

  “You’re such a bondage baby. You feel how wet you are.”

  I did. When his fingers rubbed down on my g-spot, I bucked and the ropes pressed into me. My hips pushed into the mat to escape as he made me wetter and wetter. “Unh. Wells. Coming.”

  “No.”

  Oh. God. I tried so hard but he was relentless on that one spot, his fingers rubbed, pressed and fucked. Lights burst and I screamed out my orgasm, jerking as he continued to torture the spot. Another bone jarring orgasm. I bore down on his fingers. The bastard made me squirt and grunt and squirt some more. Everything snapped tight, my toes flexing, my breath strangling as I pushed into those fingers and came in a hot, pulsing rush.

  “Bad girl.” He slapped my ass. “Suck.” He pushed his dripping fingers into my mouth and I licked every drop from him. Hands ran over me, checking the ropes after I collapsed.

  “That was cheating.”

  He tapped his chest. “Asshole.”

  He tied my legs in a bent position, lacing the ropes around my thighs through the rope on my belly. When he slapped my ass, I hissed.

  “Let’s make this red.”

  Let’s not.

  He ran a heavy leather strap on the mat in front of my face. After he stuffed a pillow under my chest, he snapped the strap down.

  It wasn’t just ow. It was a fucking crack of pain on my skin. He avoided the rope but found every other soft spot. Every snap vibrated into me, made me cry out and squirm to get away. A bare foot rested on my back and Wells continued to beat my poor ass, the leather drumming repeatedly against the damp folds of my pussy until I was sweating and grinding the air. Just when I was about to plead for him to stop, he dropped the strap, sank down beside me and again buried his fingers in me, hitting the exact same spot. My entire body contracted as I came.

  Just like before, he drew three more hard, hot pulsating orgasms from me.

  “Sweet,” he murmured then replaced his fingers with his cock. He didn’t move. Gripping the ropes, he held me still. I lost time until a low “fuck” came from him and his hips rolled forward. My mouth parted on a gasp; Wells’s cum flooding my soaked, sore pussy.

  “Anything hurt? Amy?” He fisted his hands in my hair and pulled head back. The world was spinning and swimming. “Yes or no.”

  “No,” I murmured.

  “Then it’s time to make you fly.”

  I thought I already was. He did a few rigger things I couldn’t see and I didn’t really care as cum dripped from my tender sex. Then all of a sudden I was flying. The floor disappeared and all that kept me from falling on my face was Wells’s rope and those swivels. I was weightless, like a butterfly. “Oh,” I whispered, my eyes closing. He pressed against my knee and I made a lazy circle.

  When he stopped me, he was kneeling on the mat. “Hi, pretty girl, how are you?”

  “Good. S’good.”

  Holding the ropes, he drew me to him and took my mouth in a slow, lazy kiss. Oh. Oooh...Wellsley Darling was kissing me. Our tongues met, licking as I hovered before him. He had kissed me in the mindfuck but that hadn’t been him. Not really. This. This was Wells kissing me. When I was breathless and dizzy just from his kisses, he lowered me then with a wicked looking knife, he cut the rope from me, rolled me onto my back and slid into me again.

  It was slow and sexy: him fully clothed and looking into my eyes. “You come with me this time.”

  My legs wrapped around him and I lifted into the sensual strokes. “Yes, Wellsley.”

  I was drowning in the dark honey of his eyes. Trust. The word whispered through my head. “I fucked one of the Dog Pounds at Lash’s party.”

  “Not a good time, baby. Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

 
“Doesn’t matter. Did they come in you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then it doesn’t matter.”

  For the first time since I woke up at Lash’s, it didn’t matter. Four was just a dream, a fantasy. Like the earlier mindfuck. “Wellsley?”

  “Jesus, if you confess anything else while I’m fucking you, I will not be a happy man.”

  “I love that only you have ever come in me.”

  “Fuck, girl. Fuck.” He grit his teeth and began to fuck me harder. “Amy.”

  “Yes, Wellsley.” And I came with him.

  Another soak and some food, I sat on the couch gazing at Surrender. She had started everything. “How long?”

  He sipped his drink – not bourbon but a dark, aromatic whiskey – as he also studied the statue. He was in his god damn mouth watering outfit and I was naked. “How long what?”

  “Have you known I was...”

  “Submissive, baby. The word is submissive. You were fourteen or so is when it all clicked into place. We’re going to talk about your school, Amy.”

  Wrinkling my nose at him, I sighed. “Really?”

  “Really. My VP of Finance is looking for an assistant. You get your shit together and you can meet her.”

  Blinking, I relaxed down then arched again. “You have a VP of Finance?”

  “Darling Hotels doesn’t run itself, baby. You may think we’re all useless in the Dog Pound but we’re not.”

  “Huh. You have a job.” How had I not known that? And didn’t that make me a dick. I grinned when he glared at me. I settled back down, the day replaying. “Hey. You said first of all when you talked about Jack kinda but not really being my Dom. That implies there’s more of alls. And that he had fucked someone else up.”

  “Five,” he said. “There was Five. It was always Five for Jack. Jack’s dick of a father found out and made his inheritance a contingency that he’d forget about Five. He didn’t. They just kept it on the down low.”

  “Here?” Wells nodded and I shifted, lowering my head to his knee. Jack’s comment about the lake being the only place he could be himself finally made sense.

  With a sigh, I ran my finger along the sharp crease of his pants. “How long did you...” Well that was an embarrassing question. “Never mind.”

  “You were fourteen or so. Massive jail bait. Let’s not discuss that.”

  Arching my back I looked up at him. “Really? But...I’m not beautiful like the others.”

  His hand wrapped around my neck and he squeezed lightly. “You are beautiful like my submissive. Keep saying shit like that and I’ll drag that punishment out.”

  I flinched and my vagina flinched. The forced orgasms as a punishment were exhausting enough. Where, I wondered, did we go from here? I wanted to ask what this was but I was quickly realizing anytime I question what he was doing with me, he turned hard and cold. Still...“What happens next?”

  He smiled at the question and it had that familiar curve of cruelty. Oh shit.

  Epilogue

  Wellsley

  Finding a curvy girl asleep in my bed made up for the long drawn out process to get home. What should’ve been a simple flight early this evening ended up with me giving my first class seat to a girl on stand-by. She had broken down in tears because she couldn’t get on my flight to get home because her brother had been in an accident. I had once told Amy I was an asshole of a human being and it was true. But ten months of being around her sweetness had rubbed off. Or something.

  Curled on her side, Amy slept wearing the dress shirt I had worn the day of her caning, the day before I had left for endless meetings at one of the older Darling Hotels in New York. The sleeves were rolled to the middle of her forearms, the buttons open to show off the hot pink and black lace bra and matching lacy boy shorts. Healing bruises on her thighs were perfectly straight lines and sadistic pleasure curled in my stomach to see them. We didn’t always play hard enough to mark her to that level of intensity, but when we did I got a certain sense of pride.

  It wasn’t that I got off on seeing my marks on her body...I did.

  It was satisfaction that they were on her body.

  The highest one was my favourite. A couple of inches below her panties it ran from one thigh to the other. When the cane had cracked down on her that last time, she had come so hard even I had been impressed. She wasn’t a masochist in the general sense of the term, preferring thuddy pain to stingy.

  The sex after had been mind-blowing. Any time I got to put my dick in her made for great sex but when she was deep in subspace were some of my favourites. She fucked so sweetly as she floated in the ether of her submission. When there was absolutely nothing crowding her head and when she surrendered not just her body but everything. My bliss was watching her surface, her body sated in every way.

  Reaching out, I tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. She didn’t even stir when I ran my finger down her cheek. Pretty girl. My pretty girl. Amy teased me at being possessive and I was a very possessive bastard when it came to her. Considering I had shared her with that asshole Jack for way too long, I decided I was entitled.

  Easing off my suit jacket, I draped it on the antique valet stand she had found for me when I had first moved in. I’d ditched my penthouse for her bungalow. It had been an easy choice. This place was her safe have, her home. Her house was unlike anything I’d lived in before. I’d grown up in a house like Jack’s. One built with money and prestige in an area where being a Darling meant something. In this neighbourhood it meant fuck all. Humbling.

  Still I liked coming home to here far more than I ever had at the condo. It had been a place to sleep and fuck. This place had a cute little curvy brunette.

  Climbing onto the bed, I straddled her legs and mentally shrugged off the meetings and flight. Tracing the bruising, I decided I really liked seeing it. My cock did too, swelling beneath my slacks. Granted, it got hard because Amy was our favourite play thing. Either way, I made a mental note for another future beating. My hand gently brushed over the faint marks on the back of her leg before sliding up to her lace covered ass. She had the softest, sexiest ass. Not that she believed me. It annoyed the fuck out of me when she compared herself to the other women of the Dog Pound. How she couldn’t see her loveliness was beyond me.

  My sister didn’t get how I could live here, far from the trappings of our childhood. Amy confused the shit out of my sister. Patrice thought I should be with someone like X, without being X, or Kendra. “Beautiful and classy” as she said. Considering the shit I had seen in the Dog Pound, calling X or Kendra classy was reaching. I got what she meant though: someone born in our world, someone with the right look, the right connections.

  I didn’t need connections. I didn’t need someone born with money and breeding. This girl, I thought, unbuttoning the cuffs on my shirt and rolling the sleeves up my forearms. I needed this girl with her sweetness, her soft curves, and her beautiful submission.

  Not just being inside her but waking up with her. I never expected Amy. The cute little girl who had stumbled into the group because Jack had nearly ended her. So young and innocent with baby fat still clinging to her face. She had been adorable. Fucking adorable with those big brown eyes that were so filled with innocence, despite the fact that she had been living in a car, that you knew angels swam there. I had a lot of hate for Jack for how he had treated her but I couldn’t fault that he had loved her. Adored her.

  Lately things had started to even out for Amy. Reclaiming pieces of herself that she had lost following Jack’s death helped. A couple of months after the Jack mindfuck at the lake, she had dropped finance completely. The superficial reasons no longer existed. Even if she somehow managed to burn through Jack’s inheritance, there was no way either her father or myself would let her be destitute. Instead she’d started taking courses in anything that interested her.

  She’d also distanced herself from the Dog Pound. She no longer partied with the group. No more drinking, no more d
abbling in those fucking pills, no more following in everyone’s wake. Over the summer we had spent a lot of time at the lake so there had been no avoiding the others. She’d socialize but never for long. Some had been assholes about it but never for long. I shut that shit down.

  No one fucked with her. No one.

  Watching Amy find her wings was amazing.

  It had made for a helluva ten months.

  A sleepy sound came from her and I watched her eyes blink open. “Wells.”

  “Hello, baby.”

  “I fell asleep.” She rolled onto her back, relaxing after a tiny stretch.

  “This is new.” I drew a figure eight around her breasts. My reward was a pretty blush on her cheeks and her nipples pressing into the lace. “I like.”

  “I was going to welcome you home like this.” She drew the front of my shirt together then flashed me.

  Fuck but I loved seeing her playful. “You know what would’ve been better?” A dark eyebrow arched up and I took one of her hands and slid it into the lace panties. She sucked in her breath, arching beneath me. Her lashes lowered so a small glimmer of brown remained as she began to touch herself. I knew when she reached her clit; a soft whisper of a moan escaped. “I got you a present too.” Drawing one pretty lace cup over her breast, I bared the fullness with its swollen tip. From my pocket I withdrew a small box. I eased one dainty clamp over her nipple and her body flinched.

  “Too much!”

  Easing the pressure, I bared her second nipple and connected the second clamp, letting the crystal decorated chain rest between her breasts. “Okay?”

  “Yes, Wellsley.”

  The tension eased from her as I knelt above her, admiring the sight of her slowly slipping into subspace. It wasn’t just the clamps but the fact that I was dressed while she pretty much wasn’t. Bracing my hands on her pillow, I held myself above her then leaned down to kiss her.

  She tasted faintly of chocolate mint. Someone had gotten into the ice cream before falling asleep. Amy gripped the back of my vest, breaking the kiss on a raspy cry. “No coming, girl, but no easing up. I want that clit throbbing and your cunt slick.”