by Zoe Blake
“You don’t understand,” she said, tears once again threatening to spill over her lower eyelashes. “Tonight, with you… it’s the first time since I was a little kid that I was really, truly happy. And I would do—and try—anything to not only keep feeling this way, but to repay it in kind.”
“So you’d do it, but just to make me happy? Like some kind of reward?” His voice came out more tightly than he intended, he was finding it hard to talk through the sudden lump in his throat.
“No, that’s not what I mean! I-I don’t know how to describe it.” She shoved an impatient hand through her golden tresses. “I just… I have this desire to please you. To obey you. Actually, Anastasia remarked on it a little while ago. She said that instead of fighting against what my family does to me, I just obey. It’s like a need I have. And I’d far rather obey you to please you. You give me so much happiness in return. Ugh, I don’t know whether I’m making any sense—”
He cut her words off with a growl, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her with a desire he felt in the depths of his soul. “I’ve been fighting it,” he said, when they finally came up for air, “fighting whatever it is I’m feeling for you. But if you’re so willing to give it a try, why not? What do we have to lose?”
“My virginity’s already gone, so that’s not an option,” she said, smiling at his shout of laughter.
“There’s always your ass,” he said, feeling his balls tighten at the very thought. “I assume you’re still an anal virgin?”
“Until tonight, Sir, I’d never even been kissed,” she admitted, blushing to the roots of her hair.
“Holy fuck. You really are like a little angel sent to me from God, aren’t you?” he said, fingering her hot cheek in wonder.
“Not really. I’m just me.”
“So you would really do what I just described? Right now? If I told you to?”
“If you took me home with you afterward,” she replied with a cheeky smile which made him want to kiss her again.
“I need proof,” he said. “I need to know you can really keep up with both sides of me. You really think you’d enjoy it?”
“I enjoy you,” she said simply. “If I discover I enjoy the act itself, that’s just a bonus, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Then prove it,” he said, lifting her off his lap, tossing her corset aside and stripping off her skirt and panties as soon as she stood before him.
Wearing nothing but her heels, she gazed up at him. “What would you like me to do, Sir?”
“What I said. I’m going to put my jeans and boots back on and then we’re going to go to that door, and you’re going to get on all fours and crawl across the party room.”
Her eyes were already growing cloudy with desire. The little minx really does enjoy the thought of it, he thought, fighting not to grow hard again.
“And then?” she said breathlessly.
“Then you’ll lie down like a good little girl and let me mark you the way an animal does its territory.”
Her small breasts were heaving with her short breaths but still she didn’t move. “And then?”
“You’ll see. Are you ready?”
With glittering eyes, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He tugged his jeans on first, followed by his boots. “Then let’s go.” His pulse was racing as he watched her walk across the small room to the door which led out to the party where there were dozens—if not hundreds—of people.
Would she really go through with it? If she did, he’d know she was the one for him. And he would make her his.
Ella was finding it difficult to breathe even without her corset on. She could sense Zainon behind her; his charisma was such that she could feel his presence even when she couldn’t directly see him. Sinking to her knees on the scratchy, cheap warehouse carpet, she took a deep breath, marveling at her own audacity.
But she’d meant every word of what she’d said to him. And when she really thought about it, she wasn’t just about to crawl naked through a room full of complete strangers solely to escape from her horrible home life. She would have done it if she had a happy family. From the moment she had first heard his voice, from the very first time she had seen his face on a poster in Anastasia’s room, she had felt drawn to this man in a way which seemed far more powerful than just being a fan of his music—or even of him. It went far beyond that. It was a deep, all-consuming pull to be with him. And the moment he’d first singled her out and spoken to her, she’d known that he truly was meant to be her savior… in more ways than one.
She’d also been surprised to discover that she truly did enjoy his rough treatment of her. Even the thought of what she was about to do was exciting, somehow. She felt vulnerable but safe; naked yet protected.
“Let’s go,” he said in that raw voice of his, and a wave of noise washed over her as he opened the door.
She could feel it; sense the first pairs of eyes swiveling in their direction, but she stared at the floor, watching the carpet in the back room give way to stone as she began to move into the party proper, crawling on her hands and knees ahead of him. The music was still throbbing in the speakers but the chatter died down as she imagined more and more people staring at them.
It’s okay, she told herself, feeling the first prickle of hesitation. These are kinky people, they expect this sort of thing at these parties. Besides, I’m not even the only naked person in here. She wondered idly whether Anna was nearby, watching her, Ella, crawl across the floor with Zainon walking behind her.
“Faster,” she heard him bark, and his boot landed squarely against her butt, kicking her along. She lost her balance and sprawled on the floor. One of her shoes came off.
Instead of outrage, she felt a deep thrill rise up inside her. There was no-one else. The world consisted of just the two of them, Zainon and Ella, and she was doing this for him. To please him. To prove that she was his.
“I said, fucking faster!” Once again the sole of his boot landed with a thud against her right buttock, and ignoring the shocked gasp from somewhere on her left, Ella scrambled to obey, getting back up onto her knees and picking up the speed of her crawl.
Her hands and knees were aching from scraping against the rough stone floor, she was wearing only one shoe, and her face felt like it was on fire, but at the same time, the delicious throbbing between her legs was back. And it grew stronger with every inch she crawled.
“Hurry up, I haven’t got all day!” Zainon snarled, and she braced herself for another kick. It never came. Instead, she felt his hot breath on her ear. “You’re doing so good, baby, I’m so fucking proud.”
Then he kicked the back of her thigh. It left a deep, dull ache, but like everything else, that served only to heighten her excitement.
The people were moving out of her way as she crawled, and she allowed Zainon to guide her with his words—and boots—until she saw the bottom of a door. Ella had no idea where she was, she could have been crawling in circles for all she knew, but when he told her to halt, she did, waiting expectantly for her next order.
His boot came down again, this time resting briefly between her bare shoulder blades before pushing her down until she was lying flat on her face.
“You see this girl?” His voice rose above the general murmur of surprise. It even carried across the room over the music, and Ella’s heart stood still as she waited for his next words as though he were addressing her and not a crowd of people. “This girl is extraordinary. She has agreed to let me keep her, so from now on, she is mine. And I couldn’t be prouder. Now, Ella doll, get back up and crawl through here.” He indicated the door with a light kick to it.
Then he opened it and she got back up on her knees, her whole body tingling with delight at the pride evident in his voice. Once she was through, she waited, her heart in her mouth.
“Look at me.”
She did so, gazing up at his impassively dark face, trying to read his eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful li
ke that; naked and on your hands and knees for me. But there’s one more thing I have to do.” Once again a boot between her shoulder blades shoved her unceremoniously onto her belly.
Ella waited, listening to his zipper as he undid his jeans. As the warm wetness began to splatter over her naked body, she turned her head to see a grin of such sadistic pride on his face, she felt her own lips curve into a smile.
“Now I’ve marked you. Now you really are mine, Ella doll,” he said as soon as he’d finished. His wolfish grin widened. “You seem to have lost your slipper, princess. Do I need to send my gang out to search for it? Will you run away? Do I need to chase and hunt down my sweet Ella; the only girl the shoe fits?”
Lying on the floor, naked, her rump still tender from his hand and his belt, her sex still aching from his fucking, her face blazing with humiliation and a warm puddle of his pee spreading out around her, Ella giggled, her heart bursting with happiness and pride. “Oh no, my prince, I have no plans to run away. I’m yours.”
The End
About the Author
Tabitha Black
USA Today bestselling author Tabitha Black has been writing erotic spanking fiction for over a decade, mostly in the ageplay and historical genres. More recently, she's discovered the joys of writing more contemporary, edgier books with a greater emphasis on BDSM – one of which, Sharing Silver, has been nominated for a Golden Flogger award and won the Spanking Romance Reviews award for best ménage 2015.
Having lived in four countries on three different continents, and been an active participant in her local kinky communities, she likes to "write to discover what she knows". Her own personal kinks include anything and everything to do with spanking, fireplay, edge play, scarification, age-play, and too many more to count. Some girls like wood, some adore leather, but Tabitha is partial to big, shiny, ornate knives… nothing else makes her quite as weak at the knees.
She lives in Europe with her Daddy/Sir, and a lilac cat who likes to sneeze in her face. She has a weakness for great cappuccino; strong, dominant, kind but brutally sadistic men (and counts herself amazingly lucky to have found one in real life); brilliant books, and tattoos.
Tabitha loves getting mail, so if you want to drop her a line, please do so at [email protected]. You can also check out her website here, follow her on Twitter @BlushingTabitha, Instagram, or join her Facebook page. Thank you for reading!
Don't miss these other exciting books by Tabitha Black and Blushing Books!
Taken in Hand
Estelana
Summer Camp
Little Tudor Rose
The Abbeyville Way
Conquering Cassia
Silverlake Priory series
Educating Eva, Book 1
Masters of the Castle series
Fulfilling Her Fantasy
Sharing Silver
When the Gavel Falls (box set)
His Empire series
Restraint - His Empire Book 1
Red Petticoat series
Sapphire's Surrender
Anthologies
Confessions of a Spanking Author
Hero To Obey
Audiobooks
Little Tudor Rose
Conquering Cassia
Mr. Wolffe’s Little Red
A Little Red Riding Hood Story
Maggie Ryan
Mr. Wolffe’s Little Red Warning:
Be forewarned that within the dark, deep forest lies a cabin. The 'goodies' Little Red has gathered on her way will be used to remind her what happens when a little one is a naughty girl. This book contains the spanking of adult women, elements of age play including anal play, discipline delivered on a bare bottom and elsewhere, BDSM play and power exchange. Step over the threshold of that cabin at your own risk. While this twisted fairy tale is not all sugar and spice, I promise, Regina's very own big bad wolf will have your heart pounding and your panties dampening.
Happy Reading!
Maggie Ryan
Chapter One
“Finally, something that doesn’t look like boring correspondence for a change.”
Regina looked up from her desk to see Glenda standing beside the metal cart she pushed around to deliver mail and the occasional package to any one of the employees occupying several floors of the building.
“Hi, Glenda. What do you mean?”
“Just this,” Glenda said, plucking something from one of the bins in the cart and waving it in the air. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
And it was. The deep red of the envelope was of a hue that had one thinking of the most beautiful rose, but it was the black wax seal that had been pressed against the flap that had Regina swallowing hard. The color did not bring a bouquet of roses to mind, but instead, had her tummy flipping, her heart pounding, her blood racing and, of course, her buttocks clenching. It took her a moment and hearing a very familiar word to snap her back to the present. Tearing her gaze from the envelope, she interrupted. “Wh… what did you say?”
“I asked whose party you were invited to…”
“No, I mean, what did you say just before that?”
Glenda looked puzzled and then grinned. “Ah, you mean naughty? I was just saying it’s a bit naughty. If you ask me…” she looked around so as to reassure herself that no one was listening and leaned a little closer, “that fancy seal actually looks like someone’s ass.”
Regina could feel her face go hot and prayed the woman thought hearing such a word in a professional environment was the cause of her blush. “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” she said.
“Hmmm,” Glenda said, making it a point to give the back of the envelope a closer inspection. “Nope, pretty sure it’s a butt.” She giggled and continued, “And, since it is for my dear friend, you can tell me how I can wrangle my own invitation. If the party is anything like that naughty seal, it sounds positively wicked.”
Not about to agree to that request, Regina shrugged. “Just drop it on my desk. Mr. Evans needs me to run these notes upstairs.”
“What? Aren’t you the least bit curious? I mean, come on! How often does anyone get such a sexy piece of mail?”
“It’s probably just some invitation to a fancy new restaurant opening,” Regina said, standing and gathering a pile of papers she’d been working on, shoving them into folders. “You know how it is. Send the critics and reviewers’ minions some sort of coupon for a meal they couldn’t possibly afford on their own in hopes that we will persuade the powers that be to give the restaurant or chef a rave review. It happens all the time. Remember that new grill… um, what was the name? Pig Trough? We all got to go eat for free and then we all wound up with food poisoning?”
Glenda’s expression of expectation disappeared as she sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She dropped the envelope onto Regina’s desk, added a few additional pieces of mail and then said, “Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Can you come? It won’t be free but the tapas bar won’t send you to bed for the entire weekend either.”
“Let me get back to you,” Regina said, already opening her desk’s top drawer and scooping the mail into it. “I’ve really got to get this stuff upstairs.”
“All right, call me later,” Glenda said, giving a wave and pushing her cart, disappearing into the warren of cubicles that sat outside Regina’s office.
Regina yanked open the drawer, grabbed the red envelope, shoved it beneath some of the folders she held and hurried towards the elevator. Stabbing a button on the panel, she tried to control her thoughts as she watched the numbers change above the doors. She dashed out before the doors were completely open, turned left and, after a quick glance around, opened a heavy steel door. Within minutes, she stepped out onto the roof, taking what seemed like her first breath in the last several minutes. She scurried around several large protrusions housing various equipment that had always reminded her of ugly warts. It didn’t help that they were painted a sickly looking green often used as make up for some evil witch. Regina slippe
d between two and out to her secret spot. Sinking down onto the overturned bucket she used as a chair, she closed her eyes and tried to convince herself that maybe she was wrong. Maybe the envelope really did contain some sort of coupon for a free meal or an invitation to a fancy party.
“What restaurant have you ever heard of that uses an exact likeness of your ass for its logo?” she murmured, opening her eyes to look down at her lap. No... she knew exactly who had sent her the envelope. She was pretty sure it was some sort of invitation but also sure it wasn’t for a party… well, not the sort of party where a white, vest-wearing hare was ready to welcome guests down the proverbial rabbit hole. What she was suddenly very afraid to discover was exactly what sort of event she’d been invited to attend.
Placing the folders on the ground beside her, she ran her fingertip across the front where her name was written in beautiful calligraphy. Miss Regina Redd. Not the politically correct Ms.—no, he was far too proper to lower himself to use a title he’d consider inappropriate. One was either a “Miss or a Mrs.” There was no in-between. Turning the envelope over, she felt her face heating anew as she gazed at the seal. She could remember the first time he’d shown it to her—her cheeks had flushed then as well. Knowing that he’d actually commissioned an artist to create a tool that, when pressed into hot wax, would replicate the very ass she was currently seated upon, had her finger shaking. Realizing that it was tapping against the seal as if… oh, God, spanking it, she jerked her finger away and with a final, hard swallow, she reached up to remove the antique hair pin helping to secure the mass of her curls in place, the auburn locks sliding down to cover her shoulders like a cape. Slipping the tip of the pin beneath the black wax, she gently lifted. The wax broke free of its hold, allowing the flap to loosen. Regina withdrew the heavy cardstock inside. It too was red, elegant and beautiful and yet, without reading the words, the black script was able to reduce her to a quivering mass of delighted anticipation as well as shuddering despair.