My Pet, Spanking Erotica
Page 6
“No, thank you,” she said when he offered her another roll. “If I keep eating like this, I’ll weigh two hundred pounds by the end of the month.”
“I doubt that, pet,” Brock replied, pushing away from the table and holding his hand out to her. He refused to acknowledge how much pleasure he had found with that meal, and her. “Clean up and then meet me in the den. I’ll acclimate you with the house and then we can watch a movie.” Turning, he simply left her to fend for herself with cleaning up the dishes.
Lillian quickly found her way around the kitchen, cleaned up and found Brock inserting a movie to play on yet another big screen television, only this one was larger than the one upstairs. “You like movies?”
“The only time I have to relax is Sundays. I’m at the club until midnight Monday through Thursday and two o’clock at least on Friday and Saturdays. But, while you’re here, I plan on leaving the club no later than ten during the week. I know you have to be up early for work, and since you’ll be meeting me there in the evenings, I’ll get you home at a decent hour.”
“Thank you, master.” She was warmed by his thoughtfulness and wondered if he knew she hadn’t expected any type of courtesy from him.
Brock took her hand, ignoring her gratitude. “Come, I’ll show you around now.”
Brock’s home was over six thousand square feet and, as a realtor she knew what a place such as his ran. Obviously, being the owner of a sex club paid well. The upstairs had five bedrooms and three baths, the downstairs consisted of the great room, dining area, kitchen and a sunroom that led out to a covered patio.
“If you want to sit outside, there’s plenty of cover or you can sun on the deck around the pool.” Brock flipped on the outdoor flood lights, illuminating the spacious outdoor area and the glistening blue water of the pool. Glancing at her red hair and then the small freckles that dotted her face, her chest, and even her bare pussy, he smiled. “I’m assuming you burn easily.”
“The curse of a redhead.”
Brock’s body hardened just as her nipples did when his gaze had caressed her bare pussy. Flipping off the light, he escorted her back to the great room and started the movie, suddenly irritated at how easily he was aroused by her. His irritation only increased over the next two hours as she sat docilely at his feet, her head resting comfortably against his thigh as they watched the action flick he knew she had no interest in. He had to literally force himself to keep from laying his hand on that bright head, caressing those long tresses or simply running his fingers over her smooth skin.
By the end of the movie, he was angry and hard and he blamed both on her, even though he knew she wasn’t at fault. Standing abruptly, he turned off the television and lights before relenting a little and giving her his hand to rise. “You’ve got five minutes in the bathroom.” Turning from that tempting, upturned face, he left her to follow him upstairs.
Lillian sighed quietly, wondering if he was going to spend the next four weeks attempting to turn her off him and the details he had personally outlined in their contract. Even though it was her fantasy, it was his demands she needed to meet if she wanted him to fulfill it, yet he refused to believe she could actually follow through. Submitting to him had turned out to be so easy for her, she wondered at the women he had had before her, and what he wanted that they couldn’t give.
Brock was sitting on the bed when she came out of the bathroom, still dressed, a round paddle lying next to him. “Come here.”
His voice had been deep, quietly commanding and Lillian could no more resist his command than she could him. Padding over to him, her buttocks clenched at the sight of the paddle, her nipples tightened and her pussy swelled, creamed as Brock’s dark eyes caressed them.
Brock grabbed her arm and hauled her across his lap as soon as she reached him. Lillian braced her hands on the floor, scooted her hips up and succumbed to the instant, erotic pleasure of being bare assed over his lap again. At the first sting from his hand, she cried out, not in pain, but pleasure at the feel of his hand connecting with her flesh again and the heat he generated. There was no slow build up, no light taps. He smacked her buttocks hard, his hand coming down with brute force as he peppered her ass with swift hard swats that hurt so bad she felt tears well at the comfort and pleasure the pain wrought.
“That’s it, pet, lift that ass for me. Show me that it belongs to me, to beat whenever, wherever, however I want.” Brock smacked her again, loving the way her hips rose to greet his hand, her small whimpers of pain, the way she shuddered with pleasure. His dick hardened even further, and eyeing her bright red buttocks, he knew he was going to have to move faster than he had planned in prepping her ass for his cock. He simply wasn’t going to be able to hold out too long before fucking that treasure.
Brock paused long enough to caress her red, hot globes before picking up the paddle and bringing down on her right cheek. Lillian’s head flew up, her cry louder as he smacked her other cheek and then again in the middle of her ass. He paused for a minute and fondled her buttocks again.
“Hurt, pet?”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, unable to prevent the tears from seeping out. Her buttocks felt on fire, felt swollen and pulsed and she marveled at how good the sensation made her feel, how the pain and discomfort were already leading her into that comfort zone where she found such pleasure, such comfort and peace.
“I’m going to give you five more, Lil, and I want you to take them quietly, without fuss. You need to get used to having your ass whipped everyday, and I don’t mean minor hand swats, although you’ll get those also.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he brought the paddle down again, just below his last strike.
Lillian bit her lip and endured the last five quietly, wanting, needing to make him proud of her. They burned and she admittedly enjoyed the paddle, but she couldn’t help exhaling a sigh of relief when he finished and rubbed her buttocks softly before lifting her up.
Ignoring her tear streaked face, Brock pointed to the bed. “Lie down, hands above you like last night.” He returned the paddle to the small cabinet, grabbed the cuffs and attached her arms to the bottom rung again before stripping, turning out the light and getting in next to her.
Lillian spread her legs automatically, willingly accepting his rough possession as he rolled on top of her and thrust into her wet pussy, filling her with one deep stroke. He fucked her without a word, without thought to her pleasure, without even a kiss again, but he fell asleep afterwards holding her tightly against him.
Brock woke her again with another sharp slap on her ass, before hauling her unceremoniously out of bed. The shower was a repeat of the previous morning. Brock was tender and solicitous as he bathed her and washed her hair before bending her over and smacking her still sore buttocks and fingering her anus, this time with two very soapy fingers.
Brock slowly, reluctantly, removed his fingers from her tight, gripping asshole, spun her around and pushed her to her knees. As he held her head and pressed his engorged length into her mouth, he stated roughly, “I’m going to pick up several things this morning, some of which will help prepare you to take my cock, and others up your ass.” Lillian just looked up at him with wide blue eyes, her mouth stuffed with his erection, seemingly accepting his dictate.
Lillian was relishing having him in her mouth again, loving the feel of his hands holding her head tightly as he used her mouth for his own pleasure, the same as he had used her pussy the night before. His plans for her ass excited her, thrilled her sexually, but, it was the need reflected on his face for that total domination of her that had her succumbing so easily to his intentions. Bringing her arms around his hips, she grabbed his firm ass as she took his cock and his seed down her throat, shuddering with the sheer pleasure of having brought him such pleasure again.
“Come downstairs for breakfast before you dress for work,” Brock instructed after he had dried her off and combed out her hair for her.
“Yes, Master,” she smiled at him in
the mirror, relishing at how easy and naturally the title of ‘master’ fell from her mouth. Lillian quickly dried her hair and ran the straightener through it. She was running late, but if she was going to leave it loose like Brock ordered, she had no choice but to try to tame the unruly mess first. After applying a little make-up, all she ever wore, she went downstairs, hearing voices coming from the kitchen.
Her steps faltered and stopped when she saw a handsome man in his sixties with salt and pepper hair pulled back in a leather tie, a goatee and a slight pot belly busily cooking at the six burner stove and conversing easily with Brock.
“There you are, pet,” Brock greeted her when he spied her hesitating in the entryway. “Come here and meet Jean-Luc, my chef.”
“I’m more than a chef boy, and you damn well know it.” Eyeing Lillian’s nudity as she moved slowly towards Brock, a smile lit his face, shone in his grey eyes. “Mon dieu, Brock, she is lovely. You have done well.” Holding out his hands, he took Lillian’s in his and turned her slowly around. “Ah, ma petite, you do an old man proud.”
Lillian felt her blush spread over her face and down her neck. If he hadn’t been holding her hands, she wouldn’t have been able to keep from cupping them over the bare folds of her exposed pussy. A quick glance showed one place setting and her mat still at the table and she wondered what he was going to think when she sat at Brock’s feet for their meal.
“Jean, this is my pet, Lillian. As I was telling you, she’ll be staying here for a few weeks. But, right now she needs to get to work.” Turning to Lillian, he took her hand and led her to the table.
“It’s all ready. I hope you like omelets filled with sausage, fresh spinach and cheese topped with Hollandaise sauce.”
Lillian’s eyes widened and her mouth watered as she sank down on her mat self- consciously, watching for shock, surprise or derision from Jean-Luc. When he simply smiled at her, she answered politely, “What’s not to like? It sounds wonderful.”
“Jean-Luc also manages the kitchen at Fantasy and has been a friend of mine for over twelve years. Anything you need when I’m not here, you can ask him.” Brock sat down and scooped a bite into her mouth before taking one of his own.
When Jean-Luc grabbed a plate and sat next to Brock and idly began a conversation on the menus for the club’s restaurant, seemingly indifferent to her status, she was able to relax and enjoy being fed and pampered by her master before being dismissed to get ready for a busy day at work. Thirty minutes later, dressed in a skirt and jacket and feeling decidedly more uncomfortable going out without underwear than she had being paraded around naked the past two days, she met Brock at the front door, her keys in his hand. “Your car’s out front.”
“Thank you.” Hesitating, wanting to kiss him goodbye, but not sure if such a gesture would be welcome, she finally just nodded, saying, “I’ll see you this evening. I should be able to get there between five-thirty and six.”
Brock simply nodded, opening the door for her, the unaccustomed reluctance to let her go irritating him. When he returned to the kitchen to share a last cup of coffee with Jean-Luc, he was waiting for him.
“You have it bad for the young lady,” he stated without preamble, grabbing a mug and joining him at the table, his eyes drifting to the mat on the floor and clouding over with memories of another woman, of another time.
Brock saw the sadness on his friend’s face and wondered if Jean-Luc would ever get over the loss of his beloved Marie. “I’m fulfilling a contract, Jean, nothing more.” He wanted to quickly disabuse him of any match making ideas. Just because he had been lucky enough to spend over twenty years with a woman who made all his dreams a reality, didn’t mean Brock would ever be that lucky.
“Uh huh, you keep telling yourself that, my son.”
At sixty four, Jean-Luc was twenty-two years older than he and had been a friend, mentor and father figure to him since her had met him nearly thirteen years ago. He had been in the process of renovating the historic mansion turned hotel into a restaurant and club and was in need of a chef. Jean-Luc had come highly recommended and he had hired him on the spot and never regretted it.
“Just because you found what you were looking for with Marie, doesn’t mean I’ll be that lucky. Marie was one in a million, Jean.”
“Yes, I know Brock, just as I know you’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to find a woman who could submit to you completely, just as my Marie did to me. But I saw much promise in Lillian’s face and demeanor and I think you’re selling her short by denying your attraction, labeling it as work instead of pleasure.”
“I find a lot of pleasure in my work,” Brock responded derisively.
“You used to. Lately, you’ve found little pleasure in helping others explore their fantasies.”
Shrugging, he sipped his coffee, not denying what they both knew was true. “The people I see acting out their fantasies are either disappointed afterward, or content to indulge them periodically when they get bored. None of them view them as a lifestyle.”
“But, you have friends in long term dom/sub relationships,” Jean-Luc argued.
“True, and, for the most part, they are happy, but none of them are to the extreme, such as Lillian’s fantasy.” Nodding to the empty mat at his feet, he emphasized, “No woman would willingly live this way for real, let alone find pleasure in such a relationship.”
“Marie did,” Jean-Luc said quietly.
Both men recalled the first time Jean-Luc had invited Brock to his house for dinner and to meet his wife, Marie. Completely naked, Brock had been surprised and then turned on by Jean-Luc’s forty year old, stunning wife. Even though, at almost thirty he was no stranger to the dom/sub lifestyle, he had been unprepared for the beauty and draw of the deep commitment Marie and Jean-Luc shared.
After serving the men their drinks and dinner, she had sat meekly at Jean-Luc’s feet, allowing him to feed her while Brock watched, his eyes drawn over and over again to her full, naked breasts, bare pussy and loving countenance as she looked up at her master. When they retired to the den, Brock wasn’t surprised when Marie had curled next to Jean-Luc’s chair and laid her head on his leg. They had visited quietly over plans for the club and restaurant before Jean-Luc took pity on Brock’s infatuation.
“Marie was one in a million,” Brock replied, remembering how Jean-Luc had instructed Marie to suck his cock while Jean-Luc first whipped her ass then fucked her pussy. Right before he was about to shoot his come down her throat, Jean-Luc had grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth away from his cock, instructing him to coat her face and breasts with his come. After that night, the three of them had just been friends, and there had been no awkwardness among them. When Marie died ten years later from an undiagnosed brain aneurysm, Brock had felt Jean-Luc’s pain and suffered her loss with him. It had been two years since Marie’s passing and Brock knew his friend still mourned her loss, as did he.
“That doesn’t mean Lillian can’t also be one in a million. Why are you so determined not to give her a chance?”
“Because it would be too painful to let her go when she tired of playing a role. I don’t intend to let this develop to the point where I can’t send her home without it tearing out my heart.”
“Well,” Jean said as he gathered up the dishes. “Let’s hope that in your determination to protect your heart, you don’t lose your one chance at finding that special someone that can complete you.”
Chapter Six
Lil read through the inspection report for the third time, frustrated with herself for her inability to stay focused. Her thoughts were consumed with Brock, her master. Being owned by him was proving to be more fulfilling than she had ever imagined, had ever dreamed it would be. After only two days, she knew deep down that it was more the man than the fantasy that had her so eager to please and so content with her complete submission, which made guarding her heart more difficult.
Of course, the fact that she had been allowed only one orgasm in the past two days, and that a
t the hands of a woman, and been kept on edge in a constant state of arousal, didn’t help her frustration level. She discovered, much to her dismay, that she had gotten used to running around naked and now found wearing clothes confining, even though she was naked underneath. Her lack of bra and panties allowed her nipples to rub enticingly against the soft linen of her suit and warm air to tantalize the bare lips of her labia. She was quickly discovering the benefits of having her pubic hair removed and the frustration of being denied an orgasm and underwear had her longing for Brock’s touch. She ached to come with him, to feel her cunt clenching around his thick shaft as he buried himself between her legs over and over.
Shoving the report aside, she glanced at the clock on her desk and was surprised to see it was going on five o’clock. Giving up on getting anything else done, she locked up her desk and grabbed her purse. “Sue, let’s call it a day. I’ll review those inspections tomorrow and then contact the potential buyers and give them my opinion. A few look good, but one or two would require a price reduction before I’ll recommend the sale.”
“Okay, Lil. Want to grab a drink on the way home?” Sue had been her assistant since Lillian had opened her own agency three years ago and had been invaluable ever since. They were good friends and didn’t let the employer/employee relationship interfere with that.