by Eva Luxe
I looked to my left and beneath the handcuffs was a collection of paddles. One was heart-shaped, one was made from leather, one looked like a meat tenderizer, and one was made from smooth polished wood.
I selected that one because it didn’t look like it would hurt me as much as the others. I wanted to feel some pain, but not too much pain. It was heavy and made from cedar, and to test it out I hit it against my palm.
My clit tingled at the slapping sound it made. But, I decided I wasn’t ready to have my ass walloped with a piece of wood, so I put the paddle back and selected a black leather flogger. I ran the super-soft tails through my fingers and figured it wouldn’t hurt as much as a paddle or sting as much as his hand had. After I closed the wardrobe, I turned to face him.
“This one?” I still hadn’t used the word master, and I knew I would pay for that.
The game I played was a risky one, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Something inside me wanted to push and push and push. Maybe somewhere deep inside I somehow felt like I deserved the punishment for what I’d planned to do.
“Good choice. One of my favorites.”
The masked man sat on a chair and patted his lap. “Lie over my lap, Mouse.”
Unsure if I was ready, I stood awkwardly with the flogger clutched in my hand.
He chuckled. “Seven.”
Since I hadn’t been flogged before, I didn’t know if the lashes would build on each other until the pain was unbearable, so I cut my losses because I didn’t want or need any more punishments added.
“Coming, Master.”
I handed him the flogger and draped myself over his lap. My fingertips touched the ground, and my pussy rippled at the feel of his strong thighs beneath my stomach. He splayed his hands over my ass and stroked me ever so softly.
“Why are you over my lap, Mouse?”
“Because I brought a phone into the club.”
“And?”
“I didn’t repeat myself when you asked.”
“And?”
“I didn’t address you as master, Master.”
“Good girl.”
He pulled down my leggings but left my underwear in place. “The perfect ass for flogging.”
I blushed at his compliment and then tensed in readiness for the first lash, but after what seemed like years of waiting, nothing happened.
“I like these sheer, lacey shorts,” he said, running his finger beneath the edges. “When we’re done, and they’re wet with your arousal, I think I’ll take them home.”
He tickled the tails of the flogger along my skin, and I stifled a giggle.
“Every time this hits off your ass,” he said while continuing to tickle me, “count the punishments out loud. What number were we up to?”
“Six,” I squeaked, and then instantly regretted it. Why was I purposefully giving myself more lashes?
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Master.”
“From my recollection, it was seven.”
Without warning, the flogger swished down. My little game had suddenly gotten very serious indeed.
Chapter 12 – Paige Matthews
“Ouch.” I yelped at the stinging pain, but my wet pussy rippled with delight.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“One,” I said through gritted teeth.
He drew back the tails and brought them down on the other side.
“Two,” I gasped.
Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. No matter how much it hurt, I wouldn’t cry.
The flogger came down, again.
“Three.”
And again.
“Four.”
And again.
“Five.”
My body tingled, my ass throbbed, and my pussy tightened. The next time the flogger came down, I would explode.
“Don’t you dare come, sub.”
My inner walls fluttered, and I cried out because I couldn’t take much more of this torture.
He swished and swatted the flogger across the curve at the top of my thighs one after the other.
I yelped and hissed out, “Six. Seven.”
When my punishment ended, he dropped the flogger to the floor and caressed his palm over my inflamed skin, sending me to heaven. Without warning, he slipped his fingertips beneath the crotch of my panties and stroked my sopping wet folds.
“You enjoyed your punishment, didn’t you, sub? I can tell by how your pussy is dripping wet for me.”
I gasped, and I ached for him to slide his fingers inside of me, to give me what I’d never experienced. I arched my back, telling him without words what I wanted him to do.
“Not yet,” he said, slowly removing his fingers. “You’re still wearing clothes. Take them off.”
Both my pussy and ass were on fire, and I wanted— needed— him to put me out of my misery, but, not wanting to earn another punishment, I reluctantly pushed myself up from his lap.
I stood in front of him, on wobbly legs, and undressed. I gazed at him, desperate to see the man behind the mask, to get some clue about who he was and what he was thinking, but maybe not knowing anything about him added to the thrill.
“Are you going to fuck me, Master?”
“Such a direct question from such a sweet mouth. And a direct question deserves a direct answer. No, I’m not.”
His answer wasn’t what I’d expected, and humiliation washed over me. Wasn’t I attractive enough for him to fuck? Judging by the bulge in his pants, he was as turned on as I was.
“But why?” Even to my ears, my voice sounded whiney.
“Because you haven’t earned it.”
I licked my now dry lips, and asked, “What do I have to do to earn it?”
As I stripped, I dropped each article of clothing to the floor and his hot gaze raked over my skin. My nipples puckered, pleading for his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. I didn’t realize it was possible to be this turned on. To feel like I would pass out if I weren’t touched.
“Pick up your clothes,” he ordered, running his hand over the paddle laying on his lap. “Or leave them there if you want more punishments.”
I bit back a moan, and my ass cheeks clenched. I was half tempted to leave my clothes where they lay, but I didn’t think I could take another flogging, so I bent down and picked everything up and draped them over the chair by the door.
He stood in front of me and reached out, taking my heavy breasts in his hands. “Your tits are beautiful, perfect for punishment and clamps, but I’ll save that treat for another day.”
My spine tingled as I wondered what all of that could be about. I had a feeling that I would find out eventually.
“Have you ever satisfied a man using your mouth before?” he asked, releasing my breasts.
“No, Master” I admitted, shocked by how embarrassed that admission made me feel.
“Next question. Have you ever been with a man before?”
“I haven’t. I don’t know how to. I’ve never.” I lowered my eyes again and whispered. “I’m a virgin.”
He hissed in a breath, and I wasn’t sure if my revelation made him angry or not.
I dropped my head. I didn’t want him to see the mortification lining my face.
“Why so ashamed?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m out of my league.”
“Never be ashamed of who you are, Little Mouse. Teaching you will be my pleasure.” He undid his belt, opened the button, and unzipped the fly. “Is being taught by me something you want?”
“Yes, Master.”
He took out his cock, and I sucked in the deepest breath I’d ever taken.
Wide.
Long.
Smooth.
No way would he fit in my mouth.
Drops of pre-cum trickled from the small slit at the head of his cock, and his shaft jerked as if desperate for my touch.
“Does this scare you, Mouse?”
“A little,” I admitted.
He r
eached down and placed his palm on the back of my head. I gazed up at him. The look in his eyes was feral but encouraging.
“Use your safe word if you need to. Tonight, I’ll be gentle and slow. Trust me when I say, I’ll never hurt or harm you.”
“I trust you, Master,” I whispered.
I inched down his pants until they pooled around his ankles and then I knelt back so I could admire him.
“Wrap your hand around my cock.”
I did as he asked and he barely fit in my curled fist. If he barely fit in my palm, how the hell would he fit inside my pussy? A pussy that hadn’t even had my finger inside it.
I leaned forward and tentatively flicked my tongue over the flared head. Delicious. A strangled moan escaped my lips. So, this was what a man tasted like?
“Take off your mask, let me see your face, Master.”
“The answer’s no. Don’t ask again.”
There was no point arguing with him. I would only lose.
“Take me deep, Little Mouse.”
My nipples stiffened at the command I heard in his voice. I gripped the base of his shaft and flicked my tongue over his stretched, shiny skin. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I had a cock in my hand and was about to take it into my mouth.
The sound of his satisfied groan emboldened me, and I sucked him between my lips. Using my tongue, I explored every dip and ridge of his succulent dick.
Taking a breath, I took him deep and sucked hard. When he touched the back of my throat, I gagged and tried to move away, but he stopped me by tangling his fingers through my hair and yanking so hard, my follicles stung.
“Breathe in through your nose. Relax your throat muscles, Little Mouse. When I go deep, hold your breath and when I slide out inhale.”
I nodded okay. Taking his time, he slid balls deep, and I held my breath. When he slid out, I took a deep breath. Arousal dripped from me and trickled down my inner thighs.
The masked man’s hips picked up speed, and his cock went deeper, deeper, deeper.
My jaw ached a little, but I didn’t want to stop until I drank down every drop of him. My throat closed around the head, and he fucked my mouth hard.
“Good, Little Mouse. Take all of me.”
I moaned around his width and almost orgasmed when his breath faltered. I did this to him, drove him to the brink of insanity. I couldn’t believe it.
His fingers tightened in my hair, and his movements became even more frantic and uncontrolled. He fucked my mouth like a man possessed, and I matched his pace.
His balls tightened. He groaned and spurted salty cum down my throat. I sucked and swallowed every delicious drop.
“Sweet, Little Mouse,” he said, stroking my hair. “Sweet, perfect, sub.”
Pride at his praise swelled my heart. He pulled out of my mouth, and I closed my lips relishing the aftertaste.
“Time to get dressed.” He tidied himself up and zipped up his pants. “If you want more instruction, come back tomorrow night.”
He helped me up and steadied me until my equilibrium returned. “What about, um, me?”
“You mean your lack of orgasm?”
I nodded, feeling vulnerable and more than a little desperate.
“Consider it another punishment. If you come back on time tomorrow night and obey my commands, I’ll consider sucking your clit until you come.”
Stupid tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision, but I blinked them back. “You’re a bastard, you know that, Master.”
“Am I?” He rummaged around the wardrobe, and a few seconds later, he handed over my phone. “Consider yourself lucky I was the bastard who found this. Don’t let me catch you in this club with a phone ever again.”
Without another word or glance in my direction, he picked up my panties and left the room. I was a mess of fury, confusion, and desire. And, I was right, he was a bastard. A ruthless, heartless, gorgeous bastard. Screw him. I was more than capable of making myself come without his help.
***
After getting my bag and coat from the cloakroom, and avoiding Jimmy, I went outside to hail a cab. Before I grabbed one, the burner phone in my pocket rang.
“Paige?”
“This is she,” I said while raising my arm to flag down a car.
“This is Wyatt Palmer.”
“Wyatt, hi,” I said momentarily shocked.
He was the last person I’d expected to hear from. A cab stopped. I got in and gave the driver my address.
“Would you like to come for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Shoot. I kind of have plans with someone tomorrow night.”
“Apologies. I didn’t know you were in a relationship.”
“I’m not. I’m not dating anyone,” I said with a sigh. “It’s complicated.” What was wrong with me? I’d said no to dinner with a hot billionaire. “Actually, dinner would be great. Thank you.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and agreed Wyatt would pick me up after work the next day. It wasn’t like I was two-timing the masked man. I couldn’t cheat on someone I wasn’t in a relationship with, and besides, Wyatt was just a friend.
Right? I asked myself.
I didn’t know how to answer my own question. Things were getting complicated indeed.
Chapter 13 – Wyatt Palmer
The Reporter’s office wasn’t too far from Time’s Square and a thirty-minute walk from my apartment. I’d considered having my driver chauffeur us around, but because it was Christmas week, getting anywhere would take twice the usual time. So, like a true New Yorker, I’d bundled up and walked through the wintry streets.
Snow scented the air, and Manhattan was awash with wide-eyed tourists. Christmas trees decked the streets and holiday lights illuminated the evening sky. When was the last time I’d felt so fucking pumped about the holiday season? I couldn’t remember. I’d never been one to enjoy the holidays, but this year excitement fizzed through my veins.
Maybe because tonight I’d make one of Paige’s childhood dreams come true. I hoped that doing that would help soften the blow when I told her the truth.
All day, my deception had eaten me up. If we stood a chance at any semblance of a relationship, whether that be friendship or more, she needed to know I was the masked man. She needed to know I was the man who’d fingered her to orgasm and spanked her ass. The man whose cock she’d deep-throated.
Sure, she was no innocent victim. But my hiding behind the mask and taking advantage of her desire was much worse than the story she’d planned to write.
I was being underhanded and was doing exactly what Linda had done. Too many years had passed since I’d found out the truth about the woman I’d loved, but now it was time to move on. Moving on wouldn’t be easy, and it wasn’t just a matter of putting a period at the end of that chapter. Defrosting my frozen heart would take a while, but for the first time in years, I had hope. If anyone could fucking shatter the ice, Paige could.
What would it be like to have a relationship without contractual obligations? To have a woman be with me, without set times and guidelines? I had no idea but, much to my surprise, I was ready to find out.
To keep out the cold, I shifted from foot to foot outside of the newspaper offices, and people watched while I waited. My phone rang, and I glanced down at the screen. Vivian. Again.
For the past day and a half, she’d been calling and texting me nonstop, begging for forgiveness. She said she deeply regretted selling her invitation. But, for me, throwing a temper tantrum and selling her invitation was the best thing she could have done. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Paige.
I’d have to deal with her sooner rather than later, preferably later. Our contract was slated to end on New Year’s Day, but as far as I was concerned, it was already over. For now, I shoved the matter to the back of my mind. I had better things to focus on right now.
When Paige stepped out of the glass-fronted skyscraper, she lit up the night. Her blonde hair spilled from a black bobble hat a
nd onto the shoulders of her quilted coat. Mittens covered her hands, and her fuck-me boots hugged her legs.
She looked up at the sky as snowflakes began to drift down. They caught in her hair and a wonder-filled smile showed off her dimples. I’d never seen a more beautiful sight in my life, and my heart and cock felt like they would explode from her beauty.
When she saw me, her smile widened as if she was genuinely happy I was there. She came towards me, and I bent down to place a kiss on her cheek. My lips lingered on her soft skin longer than they should have, and I inhaled her delicate vanilla perfume.
I wanted to kiss her lips. I wanted to show her how deeply my passion for her ran, but that would be a mistake. As far as she was concerned, I was the man she’d interviewed and nothing more. I wasn’t the man who’d commanded her to undress or the man who spanked and flogged her ass.
Besides, kissing was too intimate and not something I ever did. At least, not anymore.
Paige jumped back, and as she did, our lips brushed against each other’s. My cock instantly hardened, and I was sorely tempted to deepen the kiss, but I didn’t.
Treating her like I didn’t have intimate knowledge of her body wouldn’t be easy.
“Good day at the office, honey?” I asked, teasing her.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Alec ripped me a new one. He isn’t happy with the first draft. He said I should have stuck to the questions he’d prepared for me. If he’d wanted a fluff piece, he would have asked for one. He doesn’t think I was hard enough on you.”
“I guess you’ll have to come back to the apartment to interview me again. Next time you can be as hard as you want.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave me a gentle push. “I told you yesterday, Mr. Palmer. Flirting won’t work on me.”
“Fine,” I said and laughed. “No more flirting.”
“So, where are we going on this snowy night?”
“Fulfilling a childhood dream.”