MR. H.

by Samantha Hart

That dodgy stomach that was now all of a sudden starving, fish and salad had never looked so appetising, I was ravenous. I devoured every last bite, and went back for seconds.

  “Glad to see you got your appetite back.” Mr. H said, noticing the sheer inhalation of my food. I’m not sure I’d ever been that hungry before.

  We had so much to talk about during dinner, how long they were here for – three days, where they were staying – the boutique hotel next door, Jade – of course, and my book release – when they could get a copy – whoops.

  I’d completely forgotten that my parents would be interested in reading their daughters first ever published book. I really did not want my parents reading my book. How had I not thought this through? I don’t want all of my family and friends knowing about my sexcapades, nor the intimate details of mine and Mr. H’s relationship.

  Panic set in, I wondered if they’d been printed yet, I needed to change it, I needed to create a pen name, a pseudonym, I couldn’t deal with the fallout from revealing our deviant sex life to our nearest and dearest. I couldn’t practically hang Mr. H out to dry for all my family to think of him as a woman beater. He was far from that. I needed to protect him, and myself.

  “Excuse me. I just need to make a phone call.” I said, standing up and rushing off inside. Dialling my publisher, Mr. Bernard. Darn. Answer machine. Of course Hannah you idiot it’s a Saturday night. I decided to leave a message.

  “Hi, Mr. Bernard, It’s Hannah. Hannah James. I’m so sorry, and I know it may already be too late, but, I really, really, need to change my pen name. I no longer want to publish this book under my real name. Please tell me they haven’t gone to print yet.”

  There, that’s all I can do, asides from praying.

  Returning myself out to the balcony, I almost choked on my own saliva when I saw my parents walking around the strange archway in the middle of nowhere. “You know, this really does seem out of place.” My dad announced, “Or is it supposed to be some kind of abstract art piece?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Mr. H chuckles, looking in my direction.

  After a lovely meal, my parents looked knackered, a long flight like that for people who aren’t used to it can sure take it out of you, so we walked them over to their hotel, organising to meet them tomorrow morning for breakfast before we took them on a sightseeing extravaganza, finally, after all this time, I was going to get to show my parents where and how I’ve been living my life.

  Walking back to the condo, my phone started ringing,

  “Hi, Hannah, It’s Greg – Uh – I mean Mr. Bernard.”

  “Oh, hi, thanks for getting back to me so quick.”

  “You are one lucky woman, your man, Callan, he rang nearly a week ago, he told me about your friend, and I put a hold on your print date, if it wasn’t for him, they would already be printed. So, what name are we going with, I’ll get them ready for print on Monday if you’d like.”

  “Oh, he did? Wow, um, I was thinking, Samantha, Samantha Hart.”

  “Perfect. I hope you’re doing well, Hannah, I’ll jack up a brief meeting for Monday morning to get the new author name signed off.”

  Hanging up, I looked up at Mr. H, he’d saved my ass, again. I was beginning to wonder if any of this was even real. Or was it some crazy elaborate dream that I was going to wake up from eventually?

  “You, you, called Mr. Bernard?”

  “I’m sorry Hannah, I just wanted to –”

  “Stop!” I interrupted, “Thank you!”

  I threw myself in his direction, and luckily he caught me, otherwise I was only headed the one way towards face-plant-the-pavement town.

  “Okay… so I did… good?”

  “More than good, you saved my ass.” I continued on, explaining just how grateful I was, and why, which he immediately understood, he – the man of plans himself – hadn’t given it a single thought either.

  “So… Sir… How can I repay you? What’s the going rate for repaying heroism?” I asked, almost seeming to cause a small stumble on his behalf, that definitely caught him off guard, Hannah James wouldn’t be caught dead talking about sex whilst walking down the street, well, life’s too short, I realise that now. Time to start taking chances.

  As the elevator doors closed behind us, Mr. H moved closer around to stand behind me, sliding a hand up the back of my dress.

  “You’re mine tonight.” He whispered in my ear as he pushed my nude lace panties aside, giving my clit just the tiniest bit of attention before driving a single finger deep inside my cunt, causing a slight whimper to escape my lips. His free hand cupped my mouth to prevent any further noise while he continued his brief, rapid, assault on my very quickly moistening pussy.

  ‘Ding.’ Immediately the doors began to open, we hastily pulled ourselves together and strolled from the elevator to Mr. H’s door like nothing had ever happened.

  “Toy room, now, come on.” Mr. H growled as soon as we walked through the door.

  “Yes, Sir.” I followed.

  Watching him wander down the length of the wall, I couldn’t figure out what it was he was looking for, he picked up a couple of different items, some type of rope, leather cuffs, but both got the shake of his head like they weren’t quite right. What was he planning on doing to me? The curiosity was burning deep. The first time I had stepped foot in here I didn’t know what most of this stuff even did, but now, now I was beginning to become quite well acquainted with some of them. Hell, the truth is, I craved to come in here now.

  “Hold these.” He said, passing me a small bottle of massage oil, blindfold, and a feather? Really? I thought that was unusual, but what he grabbed next was something I had never seen before, something absurd looking, how had I never noticed that in here before?

  “You look confused Hannah?”

  “Ah, yes Sir, um…”

  He laughed, but I really wasn’t sure at the time whether that laugh should’ve eased my concern, or worsened it.

  “Have you never seen a dick on a stick?” He joked, “I admit, it does look kind of ridiculous, but once you feel it, you’ll want it again and again, I promise you.”

  A dick on a stick, how the fuck can you take something seriously when you call it something like that?

  Mr. H escorted me out of the now darkened room, locking the door behind us, and led us in to the master bedroom. What a strange collection of items he’d chosen, oil, blindfold, feather, dickstick – I renamed it.

  “Off you go.” He said, pointing toward the ensuite, I’d been around long enough now to know this was the time I headed off to the bathroom and removed all sign of clothing and dignity.

  Returning back into the bedroom, naked, I noticed the covers had all been removed from the bed, just a base sheet remained, and on top of that stark white sheet were all his chosen toy room items laid out like prized possessions. The dildo that was attached on the stick was a decent size, probably a good seven inches long and a girth much larger than the average penis. With the dildo end resting against the headboard, the long stick nearly reached the end of the bed. As strange as it looked, I couldn’t wait to feel it.

  “Hannah, climb up on the bed, I’m not going to tie you today, but I do want you to listen to me very closely, and once I position you where I want, you are to stay completely still. Understand?”

  “Yes Sir.” I said as the blindfold was slipped over my eyes.

  “Face down.” My arms were tucked down the sides of my torso, my butt raised slightly in the air with the aid of a pillow, and my legs splayed wide open.

  “I want you to stay as still as you can, and as quiet as you can, ok Miss James?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  I heard as his clothes hit the floor, and I felt as he climbed on to the bed, kneeling between my legs. The click of the lid on the oil bottle was unmistakable, and the brief warm drizzle of liquid was no surprise after hearing that, but I still flinched as the first drop hit my skin. Amazing how good all your other senses become once one of
them is taken away. The lid clicked again, the bottle was closed, now all I was waiting for were his…

  His hands were all over me, working their way with the perfect amount of pressure across my back, my shoulders, down my arms, to my fingertips. It felt so good I could have possibly been melting in to the mattress.

  “Mmmm.” Slipped out, shit, that’s not being quiet.

  ‘Slap.’ Across my raised ass cheek, fuck that hurt, I did not expect that at all.

  “I said quiet, Miss James.”

  Damn, I was already failing, having to keep myself still and quiet without the use of restraints and gags was proving to be difficult already, and we’d barely begun.

  Further down my body he went, kneading my voluptuous cheeks with the pads of his fingers, occasionally spreading my ass, for what I’m guessing was a sneak peek of my most private parts. Down my legs, taking the time and care each body part deserved, it was blissful, as he worked his way back up my thighs he brushed against my pussy, I couldn’t tell if it was accidental or purposeful but whatever it was, I was left internally begging for more. A few more times, he bumped across my slick pussy, I was so aroused by now I was certain I could feel my pulse throbbing through my clitoris.

  I was screaming inside, touch me, touch me now, pleeeease! But what happened next could only be described as torture, he climbed out from between my spread legs, for a few moments nothing touched me at all, nothing made a noise, I felt nothing move.

  The next sensation I felt was not what I had hoped for, there was no pain, there was no pleasure, only nasty ticklish hell. He was using the feather. I was struggling to stay still, let alone quiet as he ran the tip of the feather up the side of my ribs, up over my shoulders and down the centre of my spine, across my butt and down the outside of my quivering legs, before very slowly dragging it back up the inside.

  I tried everything I could think of to distract myself from feeling how badly this tickled, I desperately wanted to buck around and kick the damn feather out of his hand but as badly as I wanted that, I wanted to please Mr. H more, so I clenched my jaw shut, held my fists tightly in a ball and counted down the seconds until this torment was over. I would not be beaten by a feather of all things. Not today. Not on my birthday.

  Luckily for me, right at the point where I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t take it any longer, the feather disappeared.

  Mr. H’s hands were back on me, on my ass specifically, spreading my cheeks wide apart before easily slipping two fingers deep inside me, rapidly fucking me with them, I knew what he was doing, he knows that’s exactly the right way to get me as wet as he wants, and as wet as he’s going to need, to be able to get that dick on a stick to fit inside my tight little pussy.

  His fingers left me with such an empty void feeling when they were removed, but I feared that void was about to be overfilled. I felt the tip of the dildo rubbing against my entrance. Mr. H would have to be standing quite a distance away from the bed with the length of the stick, I wondered what that would look like. But just as I thought that, it appeared that we both had the same thought, I heard the distinct noise of Mr. H’s phone camera taking a photo.

  “I’ll show you this later if you like, fuck, you have no idea how sexy you are.”

  And with that parting comment I heard his phone be thrown in to the armchair in the corner, and I felt the tip of this dildo edging further into my entrance.

  “Take a deep breath baby.” He said, before plunging the thing to what felt like full capacity. Instantly my pussy was stretched wide around the thick girth of the dildo.

  It felt amazingly full, I nearly screamed out in ecstasy, catching myself just before making that mistake. I knew as soon as he started moving the stick I was going to be in big trouble, if I was struggling to stay quiet with it motionless, how the fuck was I going to survive the onslaught that was coming.

  The dick on a stick pounded hard in to me with such ferocity there was no way I could keep my mouth shut any longer, I screamed, muffled by the bed, which only seemed to egg Mr. H on, I considered scrambling away up the bed to escape his wrath, but it felt far too good. I wanted him to stop, but I also never wanted him to stop, I’d never been pounded so hard in my life, I was just continuously screaming now, there was no let up, not until…

  “Yes, baby, let it all out.” Mr. H encouraged as I screamed my way into the biggest orgasm of my life.

  Chapter Eighteen.

  Today, we had planned to take my parents out sightseeing, but it was a rainy day in New York City and none of us really fancied going out in it, so, all my parents wanted to do today was visit my apartment, and the restaurant. They wanted to see the apartment they’d seen hundreds of times on skype – in real life, which was fine. I just wished I knew beforehand so I could’ve tidied up. I was barely living in it these days, never there long enough to warrant spending what time I was there, cleaning.

  But, I was a little concerned what they would think of Mr. H’s restaurant, I mean, it looked lovely and fancy enough from first glance, but once you looked into the name of it, mixed with the décor and the menu, it was quite heavily bdsm themed, I just had to hope they were naïve enough not to notice.

  Mr. H had another delayed birthday surprise for me when we entered the underground carpark at his condo, handing me a set of keys, for a brand new white Range Rover, I assumed he’d rented it to help transport us and my parents, his little two door Mercedes wasn’t going to cut it. But he had this way of shocking the living shit out of me at every opportunity so I can safely say I wasn’t expecting him to say what came next.

  “Here’s your real Birthday Present.”

  “I’m sorry, what? This is…”

  “Yours, yes, I can’t have my girlfriend walking everywhere when I’m too busy.”

  “Holy fuck, No way. I can’t accept this!”

  “Too bad.” He said, “Get in, I’ll drive if you don’t want to.”

  My parents were waiting outside their hotel when we swung in to pick them up, they were understandably as shocked as I was at the news of this being my new car. I was just crossing my fingers and hoping neither of them would mention the first time they let me drive their car as a teenager. I think the word ‘totalled’ fitted the bill. Thankfully, they said nothing and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  As we drove into my street, I noticed a flashing look of concern appear on Mr. H’s face, trying to decipher what the problem was I began searching the area around my apartment complex, and that’s when I saw him, sitting there on the front steps leading up to the entrance. Jason. He was out of care? Did he not know about the restraining and no contact orders?

  “Should we be calling the police?” I tried to whisper, my parents weren’t informed of the entire Jason saga, and I really didn’t want to worry them.

  “Police? Did you just say police?” Mom said, I could hear the panic in her voice.

  Fuck, now I’ve done it. I quickly gave them the briefest run down while Mr. H parked the car. I didn’t want to go into too much detail but clearly what I had said was enough to make my Dad lose his shit.

  “I’ll kill the bastard.” He said, jumping out of the back seat and running towards Jason.

  “Fuck!” Mom yelled, as she flew out the door behind Dad, and she never swore.

  “Go!” I said, pushing Mr. H’s arm, he was going to have to chase them both down, I didn’t want to go out there, I didn’t want him to see me, I didn’t want to see him, but I couldn’t help but watch the unfolding drama.

  Mom was on her phone to the police while Mr. H held Dad back from smacking the living crap out of Jason, I could hear Dad screaming at him from where I was hiding in the car, all while Jason just stood there, looking down at his phone with a smug expression on his face. He was enjoying causing this chaos. But what the fuck was he doing at my apartment in the first place? He had to have been waiting for me.

  My phone beeped in my handbag, and as I unlocked the screen to check the message, I nearly thr
ew it across the car.

  ‘I can see you sitting over there in the car, why don’t you come on out, I want to see that sweet little ass of yours again.’

  It beeped again immediately after reading the first message,

  ‘Look, sorry, I started off on the wrong foot, I heard about Jade, I wanted to check on you, I’ll leave once you tell me you’re doing ok.”

  The sirens were becoming audible, approaching from the distance, but that’s when I noticed Mr. H had taken off running in the opposite direction, I looked around frantically, trying to figure out where he was going, which lead me to the realisation that Jason had gone too.

  Mom and Dad came sprinting over to the car, Dad jumped in the driver’s seat and sped after them. Luckily we found them not far up the road, just around the first corner, Mr. H had Jason pinned up against a building, fist pulled back ready to pummel his already bleeding face. Wait, what? That meant he’d already – Holy fuck, Mr. H was beating the living shit out of Jason. Punch after excruciating punch.

  The police arrived at the same time as us, dragging Mr. H off of Jason and throwing them both into separate cars before talking to us, and figuring out what had gone on. Unfortunately, the cops had witnessed Mr. H assaulting Jason, so he had to be taken back to the station too. There really was no other way around it, he’d been caught, literally red handed.

  We followed the two police cars down to the station. Inside, I demanded they release Mr. H, I threw the biggest hissy fit my small body would allow, but it was pointless, all that was going to achieve was getting me arrested too. They informed me I needed to go home and wait for the call to collect him when he was formally processed and due to be released.

  I paced the living area of Mr. H’s condo, belligerently cursing Jason’s existence, I’d been angry before, but this was something else. I yelled profanities until I ended up needing to run off to the nearest bathroom to vomit violently until tears streamed from my cheeks. This was the first time I’d had to deal with a Jason incident without support in some way or another from Jade – or Ben. I briefly flirted with the thought of texting Ben, but decided against it, this was petty bullshit compared to what he was going through.