by Loki Renard
“Oops,” she said with a little giggle.
“What the hell was that?”
The sound brought him out of bed, but he didn’t know what she’d done until his foot hit the rug in front of her cage with an audible squelch.
He made a sound of irritation that made her giggle again, then turned away and grabbed something. She couldn’t quite see it properly in the low light, but it looked like some kind of short leathery thing.
Suddenly, she wasn’t quite so pleased with herself. She scrambled to the back of the cage and started stammering how it had all been a complete accident, and how she hadn’t known, and how she… it didn’t matter. He opened the door of the cage, reached in and grabbed her by the back of the neck. She whimpered as he pulled her out on her hands and knees, pushing her face to the floor to make her ass rise. The leather in his hand made contact with her cheeks in a harsh stroke that made her cry out against the floor.
He was ruthless, punishing her thoroughly with stroke after stroke of the leather implement, the multiple strands whipping across her cheeks, leaving blazing trails in their wake.
“When you’re in your cage, you stay quiet. You do not complain. And you definitely do not throw your water or anything else out of it,” he lectured. “I am not playing a game with you, Elliot. This is as serious as anything that’s ever happened to you.”
His powerful hands tore her clothes from her, rending her utterly naked in seconds as seams and clasps disintegrated under his ire. The leather kept landing on her bottom, punishing her sternly with lash after lash as she writhed beneath his hand. She lost track of how many times the strap found her rear. All she knew was that it hurt, her bottom swelling with the heat, welts making sensitive little spots where it was much worse every time a fresh cut landed.
She had thought the spanking he’d given her when she was eighteen was bad. This was much, much worse. This was a thrashing given to a disobedient adult, and apparently he’d refined his technique over time. That lash of leather licked her bottom in every sensitive spot it could find, the curve of her rear, the soft skin where bottom met thigh, the crevice between her cheeks that was exposed as she squirmed, they all received his treatment until she was crying at his feet.
And still he was not done.
He used the grip at the back of her head to guide her up and onto the bed until she was halfway on and halfway off, his foot spreading her legs to expose her pussy. Her hot tears soaked the coverlet as his fingers worked between her legs, a thick digit sliding into her pussy. She was soaked. His finger pushed inside her, a second joining it on the next thrust.
Her bottom was sore as hell, but the second he started plunging his fingers into her pussy, she started to moan. He was being rough and mean, but her body was responding to it in a way she didn’t understand but couldn’t resist.
Tears evaporated on her cheeks as her fingers curled at his silken covers, her thighs spreading of their own accord. Her clit rode against the smooth fabric beneath her as she got closer and closer to a rough orgasm…
It evaporated as he pulled his fingers free and slapped her bottom again. His hand was still at her neck, keeping her in place as she let out a whine of complaint.
“I’ve tried to make this a gentle transition for you,” he growled. “But you’re not making it easy.”
The second the pleasure stopped, the ache in her bottom re-asserted itself. She was so very sore, and knew she would be for a long time, but all she cared about was having his touch return. She arched her hips and lifted up, offering herself to him shamelessly.
“I don’t know how,” she moaned.
“I’m going to have to break you in,” he breathed against her ear as he leaned over her, pinning her to the bed. She felt something long and hot and hard press up against her slit and her eyes rolled back in her head as he stroked the length of his cock along her soaking pussy.
“You want this?”
“Yessss…” The word escaped her in a hiss of desire. She wanted this bastard who’d caged her and whipped her. She fucking craved him. Her inner walls were already pulsing with anticipation, arousal running through her blood like fire.
There was nothing between them as he pushed his bare cock inside her, claiming her in one stroke. He was so deep she could feel his heavy balls swinging against her pussy, slapping as he started thrusting in and out of her, fucking her with rough dominance.
In an instant she knew that everyone who came before him had been a pale imitation of a man. She’d never had sex like this before. Fumbling, rutting, grunting, yes, but she’d never experienced a fucking so hard and so thorough it made her spiral into a new dimension of pleasure. He held her down on the bed, pounding inside her, his cock raw and hard, their juices mingling with each and every stroke.
Her pussy lips gripped his cock desperately, trying to stop his every withdrawal, and embracing him with every surge. He may have had her pinned, but her body was doing its best to capture him in return. She could hear his breath rasping against her ear, his hips pounding against her ass over and over, slapping her sore bottom with the hard plane of his thighs.
Mason’s rod throbbed inside her, his thick meat stretching her inner walls so wide she became hypersensitive, feeling every twitch and pulse inside her. She could feel his bare flesh so hot against hers, not so much as a sliver of latex between them. Somewhere in the midst of the erotic madness, a single thread of sanity made its way through.
“I’m not on the pill,” she gasped. “I’m not…”
He growled and thrust deep and for a second she thought that he might come inside her. The idea made her pussy clench him harder, her thighs spreading, her ass arching, her body inviting that virile seed into her womb.
In spite of her desperate efforts to milk him, he pulled out and with a roar of orgasm he came on her sore bottom, thick ropes of cum landing across her punished cheeks. She was left empty, still on the verge of orgasm, smelling his seed on her skin. She wanted to come so badly she could barely stand it. He held her in place, his hand tangled in her hair, keeping her trapped against the bed, far back enough that she couldn’t even grind her pussy against the cover. Her hips gyrated in the air, finding nothing to satisfy her.
“Please… Mason… please…”
“You’re not going to come,” he growled as she writhed beneath him, her pussy begging for that final touch that would send her over the edge. “You’re going to go to bed, you’re going to go to sleep, and tomorrow, you’re going to earn that orgasm.”
She could almost have come from his words alone, the way they rumbled through her flesh, touching her in places his cock never could. But it wasn’t enough. Not alone. She needed more of his touch. She needed his permission. Her body would not release her until he gave the command.
Mason eased her from the bed and walked her across the floor on her hands and knees, his hand scruffed firmly at the back of her head. He was controlling her like an animal and she was responding like one, scurrying in his wake as he put her away in that wet, wanting state, his cum drying on her aching ass.
“Good night, Elliot,” he said as he closed the cage door.
Whipped and sore, and aching with need, Ellie snuggled into the blankets and looked at him under her lashes, replying in a soft, husky voice.
“Good night, sir.”
Chapter Three
Elliot awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. Her stomach growled and she stretched out and yawned with satisfaction, morning amnesia making her temporarily ignorant of her situation. She had slept well and deeply, curled up safe and secure in her little bed and at first the unfamiliar surroundings did not concern her. She was used to waking up in different resorts, hotels, houses. Unfamiliarity was, in a sense, the most familiar thing of all.
“Good morning.” Mason’s deep tones roused her into a higher level of consciousness. “Your breakfast is served.”
She still wasn’t quite aware of what was happening as she rolled over and sat up.
An involuntary yelp escaped her as her sore butt took her weight.
“Ow, goddamn… ow…” she whimpered, shifting back to the side of her hip. Sitting on a welted rear was not at all fun, and it brought her back to reality sharply. She looked up and saw the bars around her, Mav beyond them, his green gaze locked on her with that smirking intensity that made her quiver and growl under her breath.
She was suddenly flooded with shyness as the events of the evening came back to her. He’d held her down and beaten her with leather like some disobedient whelp, and then he’d fucked her. Hard. Their first time had been rough and tawdry and she could still feel the tenderness between her thighs where his cock had pounded her to the orgasm she was still wearing across her ass. She could smell him on her, the musk of man, the undeniable tang of cum. He had marked her, like any alpha male marks his mate.
And now he had come with a new challenge. Food.
He opened the door of the cage, his large body blocking her exit as he crouched down holding an offering of food.
“Eat up,” he said. “You’ve got a full day ahead of you.”
Her nose drew her eyes lower. She looked at his hands, expecting a plate there, but they were empty. Instead he was holding a shiny silver bowl full of chopped bacon and eggs. He put it down in front of her and indicated she should eat with an invitational gesture.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me…”
She had been in restaurants with worse excuses for plates, she supposed, those hyper trendy eateries where the waiter served your beverage in your own shoe, but unlike those places, there wasn’t the option of asking for a real plate. This waiter was not going to apologize and bring her a fresh meal.
“No forks? I’m supposed to eat with my hands?”
He shook his head curtly. “You won’t be eating with your fingers. You’ll eat directly from the bowl.”
“Then I won’t be eating at all,” she said, instantly rebellious. “I’m not an animal, Mav. You can’t…”
“One of these days you’re going to learn that telling me what I can’t do only makes me even more determined,” he purred, crouching next to the cage. He was no longer dressed in the suit. Instead he was wearing perfectly fitting blue jeans and a black wool sweater that served to bring out his bright green eyes and tan skin. Most men were at their peak in a suit, but Mason looked more handsome than ever in casual attire. He hadn’t shaved and the shadow of the previous evening had grown out a little, covering his lower jaw and chin. His hair wasn’t slicked back anymore, it was tousled and casual and she felt the impulse to run her fingers through it. Damn, Mason. Just at the moment she most wanted to hate him, he was making it difficult. She felt a pang of desire deep in the pit of her being, her pussy responding to his presence. That part of her was aching too. He’d branded her in a dozen ways, some tangible, some not. He’d made her body his territory. He’d brought her to the rivers of submission and she’d drunk deeply. But she was not going to eat face first out of a bowl. He could go to hell before that happened.
She glared at him, her will just as strong as his in that moment.
“We’ll see if you’re hungry later,” he said, changing tack as he stood up and moved back to allow her to leave. “Come on out. You must need to use the toilet.”
She eyed him suspiciously. There was an uncomfortably full feeling in her bladder, made worse by nerves about what else he had in store. If he wasn’t going to let her eat with her hands, then she doubted his bathroom policy was traditional either.
“If you try and make me use the grass like an animal, I swear to god, I’ll let Aiden take his chances with whatever gangster is looking for him,” she muttered.
Mav let out a laugh. “Well,” he smirked. “I suppose some smart, well behaved animals can be trained to use the household toilet. But that’s a privilege, one I’m not sure you’ve earned.”
“Mason, there’s about to be privilege all over your rug if you don’t let me go,” she said, pressing her knees together.
He walked across the room and opened the door to an en suite. “Go,” he said. “But remember, I gave you this privilege and you will pay for it.”
She rushed to the toilet and relieved herself quickly. It was the first truly human thing she’d been allowed to do since he took her in. She never thought she’d appreciate something as simple as a toilet, but in that moment she was actually grateful to Mason for giving her a little leeway. Her whole life, she had been the one people asked favors from. Now she owed one man everything. She didn’t know how she was going to stand it.
“Hands and knees,” he ordered when she emerged. “You won’t walk unless I give permission.”
Biting back a retort, she sank down to the position he required. She noticed that he had the bowl in his hand, the food still steaming and warm. He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed it on the floor between his feet.
“Come here,” he said, crooking his finger.
She began to crawl slowly toward him, sensing what was coming next. She approached his right thigh and he took her by the hair to guide her around his legs and between them.
“I’m going to need to get a collar fitted,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her.
She looked up at him, silently hoping that he wasn’t going to ask her to do what she knew he was going to ask her to do.
“Eat,” he ordered softly.
There was no choice. She was in his world and he was in complete control. For all her rebellion, there was nothing she could do to stop him from asserting his dominance. She was hungry, and she was going to have to eat on his terms.
She lowered her face to the bowl, her bare butt high in the air. She could only imagine how she looked. Her well spanked bottom, her well fucked pussy, both tended to a few hours ago. She was still wearing his cum on her ass as she opened her mouth, extended her tongue and lapped a little of the bacon and eggs into her mouth.
They tasted incredible. She could only imagine Mav’s chef having prepared them without question, putting them into the bowl as ordered. The thought made her blush furiously. This little arrangement of theirs would not stay secret for long, and when it got out she would be the utter laughing stock of society.
“What is it? You don’t like it?”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “How many people know I’m here… like this?”
His gaze softened a little as he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back out of her eyes. “This is between you and me, Elliot. Everything that happens here stays between us.”‘
“But you have staff…”
“The staff I have know better than to talk,” he assured her.
“Staff always talk, Mav. It’s practically the only thing they do.”
“Not my people,” he said, pride and certainty in his voice. “I don’t pick just anyone to work for me. Now finish your meal.”
She lowered her face to the bowl again and took a bite, and then another. Eating at his feet, she was humbled beyond belief, but the food was so good and she was so hungry. She ate until he picked the bowl up, before she was done. There was still about a quarter of it left, and she wanted it.
Sensing it would be best not to whine, she licked her lips and looked at him in anticipation. He reached into the bowl, scooped some of the food up into his fingers and offered it to her.
“Nicely.”
No matter how much she tried to resist the mindset of being an owned woman, he kept reminding her of it. She was sure he was doing it on purpose, teaching her a lesson she still didn’t think she needed to learn.
“Come on,” he cajoled softly. “Eat a little more. You need your strength.”
She parted her lips and took the food from his fingers. It was the most intimate way to eat, and his eyes never left hers as she took the morsels into her mouth and swallowed.
He took a little more and offered it to her again. The approval in his gaze wasn’t expressed in words, but she
could sense it regardless. His eyes could be so warm when he was pleased, and she felt an answering flash of heat through her body. Not the raging fire of arousal, but a softer glow that started in her tummy and expanded through her chest. A little smile rose to her lips. She tried to hold it back, but when it was mirrored by his mouth, she couldn’t help it. A little giggle escaped her, laughter bubbling up from an innocent place she didn’t entirely recognize.
“Good girl,” he praised, making that warmth flower all the more. More food followed, filling her stomach as she slowly finished her meal at his fingertips. What had begun as a humiliation had turned into something tender and intimate between them. He fed her the last remnants from his fingertips and she took every morsel gratefully, glad for the simple act of eating. She had never appreciated food before, not really. She had eaten the finest foods in the world, they’d been served to her in myriad ways, and she’d never really tasted any of them with the sensual intensity she tasted that simple bacon and eggs. The eggs were rich and creamy, perfectly seasoned with pepper and the salt from the bacon. There was just a hint of cheese in the mix too, a simple cheddar that blended well with the rich flavors.
Once she was done eating, she shuffled forward between his thighs and rested her head on his leg, his fingers curling slowly in her hair. They stayed there like that for a time, quietly letting the moment be.
Elliot was confused. This should be the most awful thing to endure, and yet he was making her feel things she had never felt, even at the best moments of her life. Being stripped of everything had brought her back to herself, had made her body the most immediate thing, and it was sending signals and producing the most delicious endorphin rush that left her content between his thighs, protected from the world by his long, strong frame.
Being with him was nothing like she had expected. She’d come to him out of pure desperation, and found a man unlike any she’d ever met. What he’d put her through was intense and even extreme, but she was starting to think less about herself, and more about the man doing these things to her. Just who was Mason now?