His hand brushed against her cheeks as he maneuvered his cock lower, edging forward and sliding it slowly between her lips. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. The pleasure of feeling his hard shaft gliding back and forth along her wet crevice and the head of his cock rubbing her swollen clit each time felt so intense. She panted, trying to control the climax building inside her as Michael had trained her to do so many times before. But this was different. He’d said he loved her, wanted her to stay, and she no longer felt like his whore. She wanted to please him, but she had no idea what her new boundaries were, and old habits were hard to break.
“S-Sir? May I come please?” she whimpered, aching for release.
“Patience. Control it, kitten,” Michael said, gripping her hips in his huge hands and pulling them tight against his.
“Y-yes, Sir,” she replied. Though in reality, she wasn’t sure she could. He’d ceased to be a client the moment he’d spoken those three little words, and her emotions and love for him were affecting her concentration. She wanted to come—and come hard. Michael skillfully grazed his cock across her clit once more then parted her lips and pushed the bulbous tip inside her. She almost lost it.
“Aaah, ooohh, oh, ooh, f-fuck!” Her breathing became quick and shallow as she tried to stop herself coming right there and then.
“Not yet, Stella,” Michael said in a low voice. “I want you to feel it all before you come.”
“I-I’m trying,” she mumbled. “Fuck me, Sir. Fuck me hard.”
Michael slid his thick cock deep inside her, stretching the walls of her pussy, the head gliding past her G-spot and filling her completely. He grunted his own pleasure, feeling her velvety wetness engulf him, squeezing and stroking the entire length.
“Oooohh, oooohh!” Stella panted. “So fucking deep.”
He thrust hard against her ass, his heavy balls banging against the tops of her thighs. She bucked her ass back at him, taking him deeper still. He reached around and squeezed her nipple, rolling it roughly between his thumb and forefinger. Stella couldn’t hold back anymore. She was over the edge into the most incredible orgasm as he continued to rock his cock into her.
“Oooh, fuck. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God!” Stella screamed out her release. Her breath short, heart racing, and her legs trembling as wave after wave of her earth-shattering climax ran like electricity through her veins. She pushed back hard, her pussy throbbing and squeezing Michael’s cock tighter as she came.
“Come, kitten,” he said, moving his hands to grab her hips. With one more thrust, his eyes screwed shut, he clenched his ass, and he came, too, pumping his hot cum deep inside her. “Oh, fuck,” he growled, his orgasm subsiding with each stroke.
Michael wrapped his arms around Stella’s body, gently pulling her upright once more, his palms fondling her pert breasts. He kissed her shoulder, his lips trailing over her wet skin then up and down her neck, making her shiver with pleasure. She cocked her head to one side, reveling in the wonderful sensation of his body tight against hers. And more than that… of feeling loved by the man she’d come to adore.
For the very first time since she’d met him, Michael seemed softer… sensitive even. Gone was the harsh, coldness she’d experienced with him so many times. She allowed herself a moment to think that perhaps he meant it when he said he loved her. He continued kissing and sucking her neck, the hot water soothing her as she came down from her climax, then she turned around to face him and took his hands in hers.
“Okay, I’ll stay a little bit longer,” she said with a big, wide smile.
“Good. I was hoping you’d change your mind,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Now, I think we’d better get showered and out of here. I’m starting to get wrinkles,” he said, staring down at his hands.
Stella followed his gaze downward, grabbing his limp cock in one hand. “You’re right. Look how wrinkly this is now. Still, I think I know how to make it all smooth and tight again,” she laughed, squeezing it gently in her palm.
“Oh, yeah. You certainly do,” Michael replied with a grin, feeling his cock grow bigger in her grasp as she tightened, then released her fingers rhythmically around it. Just when he’d grown semi-hard again, Stella let go and grabbed Michael’s Armani shower gel from the glass shelf beside her.
“I need to bathe, Sir,” she said with a smile, holding the bottle in one hand and squeezing soap into the other. Michael put on a fake disappointed frown then held out his palm. Stella squirted a dollop of gel into it then set it down and lathered her body, humming happily to herself. Michael just stared at her red-cheeked ass, admiring his ‘handiwork’, and when Stella finished showering, she teasingly slipped past him, purposely grazing her hard nipples against his soapy chest. “’Scuse me,” she said, heading for the towel rack.
Michael responded with a smile and another smack on her butt, sending delicious waves of pleasure straight to her pussy. “Don’t go too far, kitten. I’m not done with you yet,” he said in a low voice. She looked over her shoulder at Michael, excited at what the night would bring, then stuck out her bottom, put a finger to her lips like a naughty girl and simply fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Oh, yes. She’d definitely made the right decision to stay with Sir.
Chapter 26
Stella’s eyes were heavy as she stretched her tired body, still feeling sleepy. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand—11:10 AM. The sun was streaming through the huge bay window into Michael’s bedroom, making the dark furniture he loved so much seem mellow and even pleasing to her bleary eyes. Her legs still ached a little from her ordeal at the gymnasium, and she didn’t want to move—at least, not yet. She was so warm and comfortable lying on her side in his bed. Just a few more minutes and I’ll get up, she told herself.
She closed her eyes again as sweet memories from the previous night filled her mind and made her smile. After they’d showered, Michael had been so attentive. He’d brought her food and orange juice then gave her the most wonderfully relaxing body massage while they talked about the events of the last few days. No sex, he’d made it all about her. As she thought about it, she could still feel his gentle touch—his big hands, slick with warm oil, soothing her sore limbs and her stinging butt—to her mind, the most perfect aftercare a Dom could have given his sub after what she’d been through.
He’d made love to her. Yes, made love to her, and more than once before they’d fallen asleep. So erotic, yet tender, caring… loving. Stella had never seen Michael that way. She remembered being woken in the small hours by Michael’s tongue licking and sucking her pussy, then her fists balled into the sheets and her legs trembling as he’d made her come over and over. Her orgasms so intense, she thought she was going to pass out.
Lost in her thoughts, she opened her eyes and checked the clock again, 11:18. Time she got her sorry ass out of bed. She moved her arm to throw back the covers when she felt a warm body press against her back and spoon her, a hard cock probing between her legs, and a hairy arm covering hers. She stayed perfectly still, another smile creeping across her face.
“Is that you, Michael?” she teased.
“Yeah, it’s me. Why? Were you expecting someone else?” he replied in a fake hurt tone.
“Maybe,” she giggled. Throwing off his arm, she wiggled her ass against his cock, making him groan with pleasure, then she turned around and kissed him. “Good morning, Sir,” she emphasized. “I’ve been naughty. I seem to have overslept.”
“Good morning, and don’t worry. I’ll let you make it up to me,” he said, smiling back at her.
“Oh, I know you will, but right now I’m starving. Is Maga back from her date with Christian Grey? I need breakfast. A girl’s gotta eat, you know?”
“I guess,” Michael said, disappointed his stiff cock might have to wait.
Stella rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room for her clothes. She was sure she’d left her dress on the chair by the window the night before, but it wasn
’t there now. She scanned the space again, in case she’d put it somewhere else, but it was nowhere in sight. She leaned back on the bed, her head resting on Michael’s legs, and turned to face him.
“Where are my clothes?” she asked. “Or have you taken them away? Are we back to me walking around the house naked again already? So soon after you said you loved me?” she teased, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows.
“Well, I do like seeing you naked… as often as possible,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy. “But you know me by now, Stella. I’m a little OCD. I don’t like mess. They’re hanging up in that walk-in closet over there.”
“You tidied up my freakin’ clothes while I was asleep, and you’re just a little OCD, you say? Just a little?” she said, laughing and cocking her head to one side. “I swear, you need some therapy, Michael. Seriously, why don’t you loosen up? Make some mess. Live a little,” she said as she sat upright, stood and walked toward the closet door. She yanked down the handle, tugged it open and took a sharp intake of breath at what she saw in front of her. She stepped back in shock, her hand moving from her side to cover her wide-open mouth. She turned to Michael, still lying on the bed, chuckling at her reaction.
She just stared at him for a few seconds, then took her hand from her mouth to speak, pointing at the closet. “M—my clothes?”
“Yes, Stella,” he said with a smug look on his face. “They’re your clothes. And?”
“Yeah, but they’re all here. Like, all of them from my room. Not just the dress I had on yesterday. What—? I mean, how did—? Who put them there?” So many questions in her mind, she stumbled to get her words out.
“Didn’t I mention? I had Maga bring them up while you were sleeping.”
Stella stopped dead in her tracks, bewildered at what he’d just said. She’d always had her own room downstairs. That’s where he visited her for their scenes. That was her space, and she knew it.
“W-why did you ask Maga to bring them to your room?” she asked tentatively. “Can’t I keep them down there with me?”
Michael looked at her in surprise then a big grin spread across his face. “Oh, Stella, my sweet kitten. I should have said, but you’re not living downstairs anymore. You’re staying right here with me from now on.”
“I—I’m staying here with you? In your room?” Her mind raced at the thought of it.
“Yes, of course you are,” he said, as if it was obvious that’s what would happen. “I’ve had a few new dresses delivered this morning as well. They’re hanging up behind yours for you to try on. We’re going to the club tonight, so go take a look and see if they’ll fit.”
Stella’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening, and her hand came back to her mouth. The fact they’d be going back to the club that evening was good news enough, but the thought of new clothes—bought by Michael—had her turning on her heels and practically running back to the closet to find them.
She slipped inside onto the plush, white carpet, checking the hanging rack as she walked past her own clothes until she found a row of beautiful dresses at the back. She ran her fingers along them, feeling the silky fabrics. Some were short, some elegantly long, but they all looked expensive. Intrigued, she checked a few labels, and her heart skipped a beat. Chanel. Armani. Valentino—and all in her size. She wanted to pull them off the rack and try them on right away.
“Do you like them?” Michael called from the bedroom, mesmerized by her naked body swaying and shifting as she rifled through the designer creations like a kid in a candy store.
“Do I like ‘em? Nah, these are shit,” she teased. “I fucking love them! Are they really for me?”
“Yes, of course they’re for you. I’ve bought a few accessories, too. Check out the rack on the other side. I think you’ll like what you find.”
Stella could hardly contain her excitement as she tore herself away from an exquisite black Alexander McQueen cocktail dress and walked around the dressing table, with its huge brightly-lit mirror, to the other side of the biggest walk-in closet she’d ever seen. There she found two tall wooden armoires with polished chrome handles. She let out a little sigh. What is it with him and his fucking dark wood everywhere? What’s wrong with pink, for Christ’s sake? she thought to herself.
Curiosity of what was inside was killing her. She grabbed both handles on the first one she came to and opened the doors—slowly at first—then flung them wide when she saw what was inside. She sucked in a breath and felt a tingle in her pussy as her eyes feasted on the most luxurious-looking leather and latex costumes. Beautiful figure-hugging catsuits, dresses, tops, pencil and mini-skirts of all description in black, red, turquoise and… pink. Stella pondered momentarily how someone whose furniture and décor were so bland and masculine could like such bold colors, but she secretly hoped he’d bought them to please her.
“Do they fit?” Michael inquired from the bedroom.
“Um, I haven’t tried anything on yet,” she replied. “I’m still just staring at all these gorgeous clothes.”
“Check the other one then pick out one you like and put it on. I want to see your sexy body in something hot. I’ve got something else in here for you,” he said.
“Okay. I won’t be long. So many choices… and I know what you’ve got for me, mister. I felt it poking me earlier,” she giggled.
Stella deliberated for a few seconds. Hmm. The pink latex spanking skirt or the black leather mini-dress? Gotta be the spanking skirt, she decided. She took it off the rail, hung it on the door then moved to the other armoire and threw the doors wide open, expecting to find more of the same. However, what she found, hung up in neat rows—each in their own section—were a variety of paddles, crops, handcuffs, Shibari ropes and clipped to the side, one mother of a spreader bar.
Her curiosity piqued, she opened a drawer. Her pussy tingled and felt wet as she scanned the contents. Inside, in individual compartments, a pink ball gag, a pin wheel, a steel butt plug, electrastim and nipple clamps. She closed her eyes and touched herself, her fingertips slick from her own juices.
“Are you coming, Stella?” Michael called.
“Almost,” she said, blushing at the irony of his question. She snapped herself out of her daydream, turned around, and put on the spanking dress she’d chosen to wear for Michael. Checking herself in the mirror, she straightened the stretchy latex and nodded approvingly at her peachy butt poking out of the hole at the back of it—round, exposed, and ready for Sir’s skillful hands to smack it.
Stella walked back into the bedroom and did a twirl as if she was a model on the runway with a huge smile on her face. Michael looked dumbfounded, staring at her as her bare ass spun past his eyes.
“You look amazing in that, kitten,” he growled, his hard cock making a tent in the bedsheet. “I think that will be perfect for the club tonight. Now, come here, Stella,” he commanded, “I’ve got one last thing to show you.”
Stella still couldn’t believe Michael had moved her into his bedroom. She wiggled across the floor and sat on the bed next to him. Without saying another word, he rolled over to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a large leather box, some six inches square, and laid it on the bed in front of her.
“What is it?” she said, excitedly.
Michael just smiled at her and slowly opened the hinged lid. There inside was a beautiful velvet-lined collar with gold trim and encrusted with what looked to Stella like diamonds. Alongside it, a heavy gold chain with a clip. She gasped when she saw it, looking back and forth between the collar and Michael.
“For me?” she squealed. “Are those… real?”
“Yes, they are. I went to collect it the day you were kidnapped,” he said as he took it from the box and placed it around her neck with a click as it snapped shut.
Stella was overwhelmed. In the space of a few days, she’d been kidnapped, rescued, told by the man she’d fallen in love with that he loved her too, made love to more times than she could remember, and now this.
The collar she’d craved ever since the first time he’d taken her to the club. He’d trained her, and she’d resisted, but she’d grown to love the lifestyle and love him… deeply. She’d come to him all those months ago as nothing but a high-paid hooker, selling her body for money.
But now… Finally…
She was no longer his whore.
She was…
His Pet.
THE END
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