Blissfully Hers: Bliss Series, Book Seven

by Hall, Deanndra

  I shriek behind the gag when something cold and wet hits my dark spot, and I figure I’m going to get more of that finger thing she did when she was blowing me that night. That’s followed by something sticking inside me, but that cold, wet sensation is there too, and I’m not sure what’s going on. The only thing she says is, “Okay, submissive, prepare yourself and do exactly as I tell you.”

  I feel something press against my hole and in a second, there’s a burn as something much larger than a finger forces its way inside me. Oh, shit, I think I know what that is. Fuck, it burns like hell’s fire, and it stops, then pushes harder. “Let go, submissive. Let me in.” I’m clamped down as tight as a hatch on a submarine. No way will that thing go in farther. “I said open up. Bear down like you’re shitting and let me in.” I’m getting ready to tip my head when her hand lands on my ass with a SMACK! For a split second, my brain takes a holiday, and that’s when I feel it push through the second ring of muscles and slide deeper inside me.

  I’m so consumed with trying to come to terms with what’s happening to me that I can’t tip my head. I can barely breathe. Jesus, I’m getting my ass fucked, and by a woman at that. Even more, I don’t think she’s holding the thing in her hand―I think she’s doing something else, because I can feel her moving forward and back as the dildo does. I think about those harnesses I’ve seen for lesbians, and I realize that’s got to be what she’s wearing. I know some of those are double-ended. Is the other end inside her? I have no idea, but I hear her moan and I figure it must be.

  She abruptly stops and pulls out of me. There’s the sound of her digging around in something across the room, and I assume the digging is in her bag. As she’s stepping back up to me, I hear something that sounds like lube squirting out of a tube. “Remember our trip to the store? The weird thing with the ball bearings?” Oh, shit. I remember that, and I have no idea what it does. “This will be pretty damn handy tonight.” Something cold, wet, and tight slips over my cock and I feel her moving around, buckling something around my hips. “There we go. This’ll be good.” A simple lube-filled sleeve isn’t going to do anything.

  That’s before she flips the switch.

  Sweet baby Jesus on a bicycle, something inside the thing starts to spin and my thoughts blur. I haven’t had a chance to collect them before I feel her slip back inside my ass and begin to stroke. What’s about to happen to me? Will I explode? Pass out? I have no idea, but I’m so hard that I want to scream. Fuck, fuck, fuck, my ass burns from the fucking and my cock burns from its own hardness. Let’s not even talk about my balls. They’re so damn hard that Miley Cyrus could ride them in a video. I’m a giant bundle of misery, and I’m not sure where this is going. Maybe if I just come, things will be less intense and …

  “Submissive, you will not come until I tell you it’s all right. Do you understand?”

  Well, scratch that idea. All I can do is nod.

  Now I’m having to concentrate on not coming and, oh, god, it’s hard not to. This thing on my cock is working its magic and the pressure building in my nads is overwhelming. Since she turned that damn thing on, I’ve pretty much forgotten about the dildo in my ass, the dildo that’s now stroking my prostate and making me totally crazed. All I can think about is how badly my balls ache, and let me tell you, they feel like somebody’s coated them with gel fuel and lit them with a match. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on, especially since she’s started moaning again. Based on the sounds she’s making, I’d say she’s also stroking her clit. Whatever happens, I hope I survive it.

  I know another two minutes has gone by, and then three, and I think my eyeballs are probably bleeding from the effort to hold on when I hear her say, “Okay, submissive, come when you’re ready.” I’d thank her, but the ball gag won’t let me, so I just concentrate on the crown of my cock and how sensitive it is. In my head, I start to beg myself to let go, but I’ve held on for so long now that it’s hard to do. That is, until I hear her say, “Oh, god, I’m coming. Yes! Oh, yeah! Ohhh …”

  There’s no way that thing can hold all the cum I turn loose. It’s a tsunami of cum, or maybe it’s like a volcano, like molten lava. I can feel muscles clenching and releasing, muscles where I didn’t know I had muscles, and every fiber in my body is screaming. I’m shaking. Sweating. Panting. Drooling from around the ball gag. I’ve never climaxed that intensely in my life. It’s almost frightening.

  She stops stroking into me, leans over my back, and turns off the thing on my dick. But then she pulls out and walks away, and I wonder what’s going on. Seconds later, I hear water running, and when she comes back, she unties the blindfold and unbuckles the ball gag. There’s a certain amount of tenderness in her actions as she wipes my face and strokes my hair at the same time. Next comes the masturbator, I would imagine it’s called, and she wipes down my cock and balls. After that, I feel her gently cleaning my asshole. The cloth is warm and it feels good after the fucking I took. She unbuckles the band around my waist and then the ones holding my ankles before unbuckling the ones on my wrists. Her voice is soft and soothing as she asks, “Can you stand?”

  “Uhhhh, um, I think so, Mistress.” My own voice, the voice I thought would be strong, is weak and soft, and my wobbly legs barely hold me up.

  “Here, let’s get you to the bed, babe.” As soon as I’m seated, she reaches for a bottle of water and unscrews the top, then presses it to my lips. My arms are so weak that I can’t lift them to hold it, so she just tips it slightly and I drink like I’ve been wandering in the desert. God, I’m worn out―totally and completely wrung out. “Lie down and I’ll be right back.”

  I drop back onto the bed and let her lift my legs, resting them on the comforter. My eyes close and I hear her crossing the room again. The sound of running water fills the small space, and I know she’s cleaning herself up. What got into her tonight? There was no way I could’ve expected that kind of play, couldn’t have even guessed at it, and while it was kind of exciting, it was also painful, far more painful than I’m accustomed to. But I have to admit, I’d always thought if anybody ever did that to me, I’d feel violated and raped. That’s not the case at all. I didn’t really enjoy it much, but I probably would’ve been more likely to had we talked about it beforehand. Having it sprung on me like that was a little disconcerting, to say the very least.

  I manage to force my eyelids apart just enough to see her coming toward the bed, and when she slides between the sheets and curls up next to me, everything we did a few minutes before fades into the background and I just want to hold her. My lips find the hard ridge behind her ear and I whisper into it, “Were you pleased with me, Mistress?” Pulling back, I look down into her face.

  Her eyes are filled with sad bewilderment, almost like a person who’s been dropped in a foreign country and doesn’t know how to get home, and the black eye is decidedly more purple. “Very. I’m sorry if I was rough on you. We should’ve negotiated all of that first, but I just―I couldn’t.” A shiver runs through her body, and that’s the moment I understand.

  She feels out of control, trapped in a situation where she’s in danger and there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s supposed to keep control of her classroom at all times, and instead, a violent student turned it all into chaos and hurt her in the process. Controlling me, manhandling me, roughing me up, giving me orders―she was looking for an environment she could control. There’s immediate pride in my heart. I gave her that, the environment she needed, even if it was only for a few minutes. As violated as she felt by that student’s attack, I felt equally violated, perhaps in a different way, but still violated. She simply worked all those negative emotions out through me. I did that. I gave her that space and that opportunity.

  I was a good submissive. No, I was a fucking fantastic submissive, and I’m proud of myself. Now I’m going to go the extra mile. “It’s okay. I understand, really.”

  “No, you―”

  “Yes. I do. You needed to be in control. I
get it―I do. Don’t apologize. I’m your submissive. I’m here to serve you. If I can’t do that, I’ve failed.”

  A big silver tear courses down her cheek. “You haven’t failed, Panther. Thank you. You’re precious to me. Truly precious.” Her lips seek mine out and I give her a kiss that I hope relays everything I’m feeling for her. My heart is hers. As precious as I am to her, she’s three times as precious to me.

  “Thank you, Mistress. I’m beyond blessed to have a mistress like you.”

  She crushes against me, her cheek on my chest, and sighs. “I was blessed the day I met you, Brandt.” I can feel another tear wetting my skin and I sigh too, my heart full.

  “Baby, I think that’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

  “It’s true. I don’t know what I’d do without you, babe. You’re my rock.” Warm fingertips stroke down the middle of my chest, and I feel her kiss my nipple. What would I do without her?

  I hope I never have to find out.

  * * *

  Even though it’s only been a few times, I’d rather wake up with her than alone, but that was a decision we both made. She needed some rest and so did I. She’ll get hers today, since the principal told her to take the rest of the week off. I begged her to stay in bed until lunchtime, and I hope she does.

  A little before noon, I send her a text: Please, help me remember to talk to you about something. I keep forgetting.

  The one I get back makes me laugh. How can I remind you if I don’t know what it is?

  This is something I need to talk to you in person about, not over the phone.

  I laugh again at the next one. Oooo, sounds ominous. Okay, I’ll try to remember to remind you so you’ll remember. And my fingers are getting tired of all this texting. Bye. The emoticon that follows it is a little kissy face. How cute.

  At three o’clock, I decide to call her. “What the hell do you want?” she answers, laughing.

  I use my best sarcastic tone. “Wow. Feel the love here. And to think I was going to ask you out to dinner.”

  “Dinner? And me looking like this?”

  She just opened the door and I’m going to walk right through. “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Beautiful? Looking like hamburger meat?”

  “You don’t look like hamburger meat. Black eye. A few scrapes and a little bruising. I’ve seen people who’ve fallen down on sidewalks who looked worse than you.”

  “Damn it, that’s really what happened, but I didn’t want you to know it. I wanted to sound all badass, so I told you that story about getting beaten up by a student. I really walked into the edge of an open door,” she says, and in my mind I see her grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, right. I just knew you were going to say you foiled a diamond heist or something.”

  “Stop making fun of me,” she play-snarls.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, babe, trust me, if I were making fun of you, you’d know it. Three brothers, remember? I know how to make fun of people because that’s all they did to me my entire life.”

  “They made fun of you? Frick and Frack and the beautiful Blake made fun of you? Awww, come on. I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “It was constant.”

  “About what?”

  “You name it. I wasn’t as dark as they were. I wasn’t as strong as they were. I wasn’t as athletic as they were. I wasn’t as manly as they were. Of course, that was all according to them.”

  She snorts rather loudly. “I’m glad you tacked that last one on because, trust me, there are a lot of things you aren’t, but manly isn’t one of them. You’re the damn sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.”

  Even though she can’t see me, my face is burning. “Well, um, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, about dinner. Yes. I’d love to go. Where are we going?”

  I learned this trick from Brock. “Guess.”

  “Um …” It’s quiet for a few seconds before she blurts out, “Bertolini’s?”

  “Yes! How did you know?” She didn’t. I hadn’t picked out a place. You just ask them to guess where you’re taking them, and then you go with the first place. Works every time. I’m tapping away on my keyboard and I find their website. Reservations suggested. Hours: 11:00 A.M.-3:00 P.M. and 4:00 P.M. to 10:00 P.M. “But I didn’t realize they’re closed from three to four, so I’ll have to wait to get reservations. What time?”

  “Six thirty?”

  “Six thirty it is, unless they can’t, and then I’ll take what we can get and call you back. How’s that?”

  “Just don’t go earlier than six thirty.”

  “Gotcha. And Dani?”

  “Yeah?”

  Do it, Brandt, I tell myself. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet! I can’t wait to see you either. Six thirty unless I hear differently. Bye, babe.”

  “Bye.” The phone goes silent in my hand and I sit there, my cheeks aching from smiling. More than anything, I wish I could tell her how I really feel about her, but she’d think that was premature, or maybe inappropriate. It would probably lead to me being humiliated when she stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

  The rest of the afternoon drags, but I do remember at a little after four to make the reservation, and I’m lucky that they have an opening. When I shoot her a text to confirm, she gives me a thumbs-up emoticon. Good enough.

  It takes me a few minutes to pick out something to wear when I get home, but I settle on dark jeans and a black shirt. Instead of the belt with the buckle and my boots, I put on a braided leather belt and a pair of black oxfords. From the pictures on the website, it looks like a pretty nice place. Not suit and tie nice, but semi-dressed up nice.

  She’s wearing one of those dresses―what do they call them, maxi dresses?―and a pair of low heels. The dress is flowy and soft in a dusty lavender color, and it looks amazing on her. Hell, everything looks amazing on her. It takes about twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant, and I’m surprised she doesn’t ask me what I wanted to talk to her about.

  But as soon as we’re seated, she rests her elbows on the table and her chin on her fists, then fixes me with a searing gaze. “Okay, out with it. What’s this thing you want to talk to me about?”

  “It’s nothing serious, but I didn’t want to bring it up over the phone. I’ve got to go to Santa Fe next week.”

  “Work?” I nod. “Okay, when and how long?”

  “I’m leaving on Wednesday and I’ll be back on Sunday night. And I wanted to ask you if you want to go.”

  She drops back in her chair and her eyes seem kind of droopy and sad. “Oh, Brandt, I’d love to, but after this week, I can’t take off next week.”

  “That’s what I told Boone, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”

  “I wish I could. Maybe next time,” she says, reaching for her glass of ice water.

  “It’s a store opening. There’ll be more, trust me. He’s got plans for two next year, and three the year after that. Already working on it.”

  Her eyebrows shoot upward. “Your brother’s quite the entrepreneur.”

  “He is. He’s determined to make a go of this, and I’m blessed to be along for the ride.”

  “Oh, I’ve got a feeling you’re a lot more than just along for the ride,” she says, smiling from inside her glass.

  “I don’t know about that, but I try. But that means I’ll be gone most of five days. Is that going to be a problem for, you know … us?” Her eyebrows almost knit together, and that tells me she has no idea what I’m talking about. “I mean, without your submissive here, and going to the club, and―”

  “Whoa! No. If you’re gone, I won’t be going to the club. Brandt, I’ve already told you once―when we agreed to exclusivity, I meant that. You being gone for five days isn’t going to change that.” There’s an edge of irritation in her voice, and I’m sorry I’m so insecure about it all, but I can’t help it.

  “Okay. Just a
sking, that’s all.”

  “You’ve got to develop some confidence when it comes to this relationship. Is there anything I can do or say that’ll make you understand that this is truly a relationship?”

  I want to scream, You could tell me you love me, but I can’t do that. Instead, I just say, “I guess it’ll just take time.”

  “Well, that’s something I’ve got. That is, unless a truck runs over me when I step off the curb,” she says with a laugh.

  I’m laughing when I say, “Don’t talk like that! My god, you’ll invite it to happen!”

  “I hope not!” Her eyes are soft when she reaches across the table and takes my hand, but there’s a twinkle of mischief in them too. “But there are things we can do while you’re gone. It’ll be a good time to explore some activities.”

  “Activities?”

  She nods and smiles. “Activities. I’ll come up with some things for you. Just wait and see.”

  Oh, god. I can’t imagine what they’ll be, but I can barely wait.

  When we pull up in front of her house, she turns to me and smiles. “Thank you, babe. It was delicious, and the company was wonderful.”

  I hope she can see how widely I’m smiling in the dark car. “From where I sat, yes―it was.”

  “Whew. I’m so exhausted that I’m not sure I can undress and put on my PJs.”

  I reach for the handle on my door. “Want me to come in and help you, Mistress?”