by Ivory Quinn
“I am Master in this room and you are mine. Every part of you.” He grinned. “Including that tight little virgin arsehole of yours.” He put the lube back under the table, sliding the tiny vibrator over his thumb, although he didn’t turn it on yet.
“No!” She was breathing harshly as he gently extracted the plug from her and set the tip of his dick to replace it. “Please...no!”
“It’s too late.” Stretched already from the plug, he worked the head of his cock into her arse. “I’m in. Congratulations kitten. You’re no longer an anal virgin.”
“You bastard.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was helpless to do anything about it. He didn’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful as he carefully pushed deeper and deeper into her. She lay silently with resignation as he filled her with a fullness she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, until he was finally in up to the balls.
“Christ that feels good.” His legs were shaking. She was so tight around him it almost hurt. When he began to move, rocking back and forth, she moaned despite herself. He could see the muscles of her thighs juddering and the surface of her stomach quivered. Her body was beautifully responsive.
Noelle couldn’t even begin to describe what she was experiencing. He filled her to the point of pain, but it was right on the cusp, just quivering at the razor’s edge between intensity and agony. And then he moved and it was as though every fibre of her consciousness condensed right down into her core where he had left her empty and aching. She swelled when he thrust, ached when he withdrew, her awareness rushing back and forth like the tide of a stormy sea. It wasn’t pleasure though, not yet. He would break her before she came. She was sure of it.
Gabriel couldn’t believe she hadn’t used her safe word. His sweet, wholesome little school teacher was just lying there, taking it up the arse without complaint. The sight of it almost unmanned him. He couldn’t decide if he hated her or loved her in that moment, but he had to know. Could she be trained to want it?
She jerked when he brushed his thumb over her clit, reflexively clenching her muscles, and it was his turn to cry out as she squeezed him to the edge of pain. He had been trained to take it though, and continued to tease her mercilessly. He’d learned her body well. He circled her clit and tongued her nipples, assaulting every one of her most erogenous zones, until he could feel her responding to him with pleasure. The need to make her come for him while he did something so gloriously filthy to her almost took him to his knees. He wasn’t far off his own climax. He could feel his balls beginning to tighten, that light tingle in the base of his spine. It was time.
He switched on the vibrator attached to his thumb and pressed it to her clit and the effect was electric. Her head slammed back against the padding as she gasped for air that wouldn’t fill her lungs. “Come for me.” He whispered in her ear. “Come on kitten, I know you’re close.”
“I can’t.” Her voice was choked, her throat straining.
“You can.” He murmured. “Come for me. I want to know what it feels like. I want to know if your arse will squeeze me the same way your pussy does.”
“Please...” She was too far gone to know what she was begging for, whether it was mercy or the final push.
“Come for me kitten.” He murmured again, running his tongue around the shell of her ear. “Don’t fight it.” If she didn’t breathe soon she was going to pass out. He began to move his thumb, circling with the vibrator as she cried out again and again, and then she silently imploded beneath him, taking him with her. He spilled into her, thrusting once or twice more before he was too light headed to stand and collapsed over her, breathing heavily. “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled. “So fucking beautiful.”
He took a couple of minutes to rest, but he knew he had to get her off the table before the pain began to set in. Levering himself up, he checked she was okay and then he gently withdrew. She made a face as he did so. Her arse felt raw and she could feel his seed dripping from her. Drawn to it like a moth to flame, Gabriel traced the line of it with his finger back into her arse. He did that. He put that there.
“Gabriel, no more.” Her voice was husky and hoarse and he nodded.
“You were incredible kitten. You’re done.” He undid the knots beneath the table, helping her bring her wobbling legs together, before he deftly untied them. He massaged her calves and thighs as blood rushed into them. He hadn’t cut off her circulation, but the ropes had been tight. When they were done, he moved around to untie her body, carefully unwinding the rope with something akin to reverence pouring from him. He’d never had an experience like that, controlled someone so absolutely. He’d had trained submissives in here, but somehow they’d been too broken for what he needed. He didn’t need someone that welcomed the pain, that begged for it. He needed someone that he knew he was controlling.
When the last of the bindings was free, he tenderly scooped her up into his arms and, heedless of their nakedness, carried her through to his bathroom. “Put your arms around my neck.” He told her softly and she did, hanging on as he supported her weight with one arm, using the other to start the shower. He knew she’d be too raw to sit in the bath. When the water was hot, he carried her into the cubicle and let her feet slide down to the floor. He steadied her until he was sure she could stand and then began to wash her.
“How are you doing?” He asked quietly, kneeling down to start with her feet.
“I can’t believe you did that to me.” She sounded shocked and not a little bit lost. “How could you?”
“Why didn’t you use your safe word?” He countered and she blinked down at him.
“I...” She trailed off. “I don’t know.” She said eventually. “I just never thought.” She began to shake then and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be clean soon.” He’d worked his way up to her thighs, washing her skin with foaming gel that smelled of cinnamon and clove.
“I don’t think I’ll ever feel the same again.” She blurted out and he looked up at her, the water scattering over his face.
“You’ve had your eyes opened kitten.” He explained quietly. “Just like losing your regular virginity – it’s like Eve eating the apple in the Garden of Eden. Once something’s seen it cannot be unseen.” He returned his attention to cleaning her and felt her hands sliding down his shoulder blades.
“Did these hurt?” She asked, absently tracing the feathers of his tattoos.
“Of course.” They had taken six sittings to complete and it had been agony, but the pain had been so cathartic. He could see how easily ink became an addiction.
He didn’t wash her hair, although he’d have liked to. By the time he got to her shoulders, she was too exhausted and shaken to stand anymore, so he shut off the water and towelled her down, carrying her through to the bedroom like a precious objet d’art. He took his time drying in between her fingers and toes with soft cotton, lifting her upright so that he could blow dry her hair as she slumped against him with weariness.
When she was finally dry to his satisfaction, he pulled the covers over her. “Sleep.” He whispered, kissing her forehead. “It will be morning soon and this will all seem like a crazy dream.” He waited a few minutes until her breathing evened out and then got to his feet. Someone had to clean up the play room and there was no way he was leaving it for the housekeeper.
When he awoke the next morning, Noelle was sat on the side of the bed gazing out of the window.
“Good morning.” He mumbled sleepily. “How are you feeling?”
“You set me up.” It wasn’t accusatory, just a statement of fact, and she didn’t resist when he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her back down to spoon with him. “You set me up.” She said again, softer this time. “It was only ever about the punishment, wasn’t it? You knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming. The whole thing was just a prelude to the punishment.”
“Yes.” He didn’t see any point in lying.
“I don’t understand.” She sounded confused. “You had me there tied up. You were in control. Why was it necessary to do it that way, to make me feel like I was being punished?”
“Because this is all still so new to you.” He kissed the top of her shoulder. “We’re still breaking boundaries here. If I’d come at you cold and asked for that, you’d have safe-worded straight off the bat. I needed to get you into a frame of mind where you were more open to the possibilities. It’s crazy and illogical, but psychologically you felt on some level that you did need to be punished and you let me do it.”
“That’s so messed up.” She still didn’t sound freaked out, just a little confused, and he squeezed her close.
“You knew I was messed up when you agreed to stay.” He pointed out. “I did tell you the consequences of stepping into the play room.”
“I know. Just give me some time to adjust. I feel like I’ve had the ground blown out of my world.”
“Take all the time you need.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to go and make waffles?”
“I don’t know.” For the first time she sounded amused. “I’m starving, but if you get up that means you won’t be cuddling me anymore.”
“We have nothing to do today except wrap presents.” He pointed out. “I can go and make waffles and then we can spend the day cuddling on the couch.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” She pointed out. “I have to get everything ready for dinner tomorrow.”
“That won’t take long. I’ll help.” Reluctantly he released her. “Go get your dressing gown on. I’ll make the breakfast.”
She watched as he strode naked across the bedroom, grabbing his robe from the door on the way past, shaking her head. He was like a force of nature. God help anyone that tried to stand in his way.
Chapter eight
True to his word, they ate breakfast and then cuddled up on the sofa to watch Christmas movies until lunch time. Noelle wasn’t sore, but as she moved around the kitchen making lunch she was definitely aware of the way her body had been used. It was a bizarre feeling, like she was made of plasticine that had been stretched out of shape and re-moulded to something that approximated her body. She still couldn’t quite believe what she’d let happen to her, but worse was that she didn’t know how she felt about it. Gabriel had overwhelmed her from the moment they met. His charm, generosity and wickedness had blown away her reservations about his damaged soul, and she realised now that she was in very real danger of falling for him and falling hard. There was a tiny, yet hard to ignore, part of her that was secretly pleased she’d had something to give him that was her first. She tried to imagine a lifetime of allowing him to expand her sexual experiences and it was nowhere near as scary a concept as it should have been.
“What are you thinking?” He asked, perching on the stool by the breakfast bar, watching her make salad. “Your eyes have gone all distant.”
“I was trying to imagine what you’re going to do when you’re old.” She admitted. “Somehow I just can’t imagine being tied down to the table in my sixties. You’ll have to keep exchanging for younger models.”
“I’ll book you into extra yoga classes.” He grinned. “Wrinkles can be overlooked in the face of flexibility.”
“You cheeky bastard!” She gaped at him and he roared with laughter, catching her by the waist and pulling her in for an affectionate hug.
“I’m kidding. You’ll always be beautiful to me.” He kissed her forehead and then released her. “Does the fact you’re thinking about me being old mean you’re thinking about something long term here?” He asked curiously and she shrugged.
“I’m not thinking anything.” She said honestly. “You know me Gabriel. I like to live in the moment. Why would I waste the excitement of today worrying about what all of our tomorrows might bring?” He made a moue and she blinked at him. “What does that face mean?”
He looked a bizarre blend of pained and pleased. “It’s...well....I don’t know if that statement makes me happy or irritated.” He tried to explain. “The guy part of me is happy you don’t want commitment, but my heart is kicking the crap out of itself because you’re not dreaming of a bright future together.”
“It’s still early days.” She reminded him. “Let’s just see where our feet take us.”
“Okay.” He grinned. “Are they taking us towards lunch? I’m starving.”
They spent the afternoon in separate rooms, wrapping presents while soft music played throughout the house. Gabriel had recordings of ancient Christmas carols sung a capella by a cathedral choir and it was achingly beautiful. Every now and then a particularly poignant clash of notes would sound and Noelle had to stop what she was doing to listen. She’d never felt this way about Christmas before. When she was a child it had all been about the gifts and the food. After her parents had died it had been about grieving. Family holidays just weren’t the same when you didn’t have any family. This year, everything about her had been flayed raw and left open, and the whole of it was surrounded by this incredible music. For the first time she was examining her place in the world and it shook her how lonely it was. Surrounding herself with the children at the school had seemed like enough for her for so many years, but then Gabriel had crashed into her life and turned it upside down.
She thought about the music, how it seemed to form a counterpoint to what was going on in her soul, soothing against the maelstrom of her experiences, and realised for the first time how angry she was with God. Ever since the accident that had taken away her mother and father, she’d told herself that God didn’t exist. If there was a God, how could He allow such things to happen? How could He have allowed her tiny world to be ripped apart by something as innocuous as a sheet of black ice on the road?
Gabriel had taken everything she knew about herself and thrown it out of the window, all the while playing her this music that forced her to examine the darkest recesses of her being. As each note trembled and ached in the air around her, she couldn’t deny that she wanted the comfort of a church, of a benevolent God. In accepting that, she realised she had never believed He didn’t exist. In her hurt she’d just been denying Him. The revelation was shattering. How could she want comfort from a faith that hadn’t protected her parents?
She had promised Gabriel she would attend midnight mass in the city with him that night, but she knew it would be hard. It would be the first time she had attended church since the funeral. It forced Gabriel’s place in her life into the spotlight. Everything about him was sin, from his looks to the things he did to her. She had been so sure that he would be the one to send her straight to hell, with his wicked ways and subversive ideas, but he had cracked her shell wide open and let the music pour in. If she returned to the church, Gabriel had been her salvation. He was aptly named, she thought with dry amusement. The Archangel Gabriel had been both implacable and righteous.
She struggled with her thoughts all through dinner and the film they watched afterwards, remaining in silence as the credits rolled. Gabriel watched quietly as she changed into a smart jersey dress and boots.
“Are you okay?” He asked, as he put her beautiful damson coat around her, letting his arms linger comfortingly around her shoulders.
“I haven’t been to church since my parents’ funeral.” She said quietly. “God and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”
“You should have said.” He started removing his coat. “We don’t have to go.”
“No, I want to.” She caught his hands, pulling his coat closed again. “I’m ready. I just didn’t know until you opened my eyes.”
“Only if you’re sure.” He met her gaze steadily and she nodded.
“I’m sure.”
As they travelled down into the city, she watched his profile in the passing lights. “Did you ever lose your faith?” She asked. “After your childhood, I mean.”
“I couldn’t afford to.” His jaw flexed as remembered pain forced his te
eth to clench. “I had to believe that there was a reason for it, that God had tested me, or I’d have gone crazy.”
That made sense. “Tell me about your childhood.” She asked softly.
“You can’t fix me Noelle.” He glanced across at her and she sighed.
“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to understand you.” She toyed with a button on her coat. “I don’t understand how your faith can be so unwavering while your soul can be so damaged.”
“It was the music.” He said after a short pause. “The power of gospel to a damaged child is something that can never be put into words. When I left home, it was the church that gave me a way out.”
“You sang with a choir?” She asked and he nodded.
“It was transformative. At home I was an island under siege. At choir I was part of something greater, a union that was more than the sum of its parts. The church funded me through music school, gave me my career.”
“I bet it hurt when the church denounced your music.” She probed gently and he shrugged.
“I talked about it with my pastor. He understood my reasons and knew that it was part of my healing.” He reached across and squeezed her hand. “The only church that matters to me is fully behind me.”
“Is that where we’re going tonight?” She hadn’t known it was such a huge part of his life. He didn’t come across as being spiritual and she’d never listened closely enough to his music to hear if there was any gospel sound in it. There weren’t any crucifixes on display in his house, or statues of the Virgin Mary on shelves. She didn’t think she’d even seen a bible anywhere amidst his books.
“Yes.”
“And do you speak to your pastor about your women?” She asked gently, wanting to know if she should be prepared for any questions.
“What about them?”
“About your need to dominate and control them.”
“Why would I speak to my pastor about it?” He took her hand. “I don’t see there’s anything wrong with it. I know it’s not normal. I was worried it would frighten you away, but it’s not morally wrong.”