Masked Definitions

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Masked Definitions Page 2

by A. E. Murphy


  “How old do you want me to be?” The gown falls open completely, revealing the black lace wrap that I’ve rolled around my body. From knee to arms I’m covered in translucent fabric, almost like a lace bandage.

  “Twenty-seven,” he states, guessing wrong but luckily not too wrong. I’m twenty-five in August.

  “Good guess,” I lie and begin to sway my hips to the very faint classical piece that plays in the background. I wonder briefly if Beethoven knew that one day a whore would be dancing to his music in the presence of a Duke. Would it have excited him if he did? “And what am I to you?” My hands flip away the gown and wander freely over my body. One would think that after repeating this mantra every night, I’d get tired of touching myself, that I’d become used to it. It would be an inaccurate thought. I don’t ever touch myself without pleasing myself. My body isn’t just for these men to enjoy, it is for me to enjoy. If I’m going to degrade my existence for money, I want to enjoy every single second of it.

  “That’s the thrill of this, isn’t it?” He asks, his voice hoarse, and I’m glad to hear that I’m affecting him as I stroke my lace-clad body. “Two strangers… coming together.”

  “Definitely.”

  “I feel as though I know you from somewhere,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I can’t decide if this diminishes the thrill or makes it more so.”

  I lose the gown completely, exposing myself to a slight chill in the air. They keep the aircon pumping slightly lower than normal; I’m certain it’s to keep the nipples nice and hardened. Not that I find that necessary. The way the lace rubs against my body has my rosebud nipples pebbling like diamonds. I can see their outline through the lace in my reflection and so can he.

  “Your curves are magnificent, your tiny waist. I feel as though I ache to touch you.” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “Stop dancing.”

  I take a step toward him and motion with my hands for him to part his legs. “How should I address you?”

  “Address me as your Lord Duke.”

  I almost roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of it.

  “And kneel.”

  “No,” I say firmly and lean into him once more. I grip the arms of the throne behind his elbows so my biceps brush against his. “This is my room, these are my rules. My Lord Duke.”

  “I will leave…”

  “And free my night up to many more obedient clients.” My nose moves across his cheek without touching. “Which would be unfortunate. I so wanted to make you beg for my pussy… My Lord.”

  I hear the tell-tale squeak of his hands gripping the glossy wood. “I won’t beg.”

  “Oh you will.” I place my knee between his thighs. I can feel the heat of his swollen cock against my knee. “How much time do you have, my Lord Duke?”

  “An hour.”

  “And how much money do you have, My Lord Duke?”

  “Enough to buy you.”

  I grin. “We’ll see.”

  “Is that not what I’m doing right now?”

  “No. You’re hiring me. I can’t be bought.”

  “I fail to see the difference.”

  I touch his chin with my fingertips and tip his head backwards. “I’m an illusion, my Lord Duke.” As swiftly as I can, I grab the straps that are tucked beneath the arm of the chair and wrap them around his wrist.

  “What are you doing?” He demands and I quickly pin his other arm and strap that one too.

  “I don’t trust you,” I state and take a step back, away from him.

  “And I should trust you?”

  I shake my head, releasing my hair from its netted confines. His nostrils flare when he inhales sharply. “I’d very much like to wrap your hair around my wrist as I fuck you from behind.”

  “In what position would you have me?” I turn and bend forward, keeping my legs straight and slightly parted. My hands grip the bottom of the pole in the centre of the mirrored room. The cool air catches the grooves of my thong-clad folds, which I’m fully aware I’m exposing to him. “Like this?” He doesn’t respond. I feel the muscles in my thighs pull as I straighten and lift my leg above my head until my ankle is pressing against the pole. “Or maybe like this?”

  “You’re flexible.”

  “I am.”

  He clears his throat and I see him tug against his confines. “Remove my tie.”

  “Certainly.”

  His eyes watch me hungrily as I prowl towards him. I watch myself in the mirror behind him. My moves are calculated and choreographed; even my walk is nothing more than a move I’ve been taught. A seductive dance.

  Dipping my front, I reach for his tie and quickly release it. Without his permission, I also release the buttons of his jacket and push it open.

  “May I use your tie, my Lord Duke?”

  He leans forward and inhales the scent of my neck. I don’t use perfumes; I use my arousal to lure a man in by his nose. There’s no sweeter scent to a man’s primal instincts than the scent of her needing to be fucked.

  “Certainly.” And the way he talks, the way he watches me, the way his cock strains against his pants makes me ‘need to be fucked’.

  My fingers swiftly open the buttons of his shirt, revealing a strong, toned chest with a sprinkle of dark hair across his pecs. I move the tip of the tie across the hair and take delight in the way his muscles quiver and clench.

  He strains against his confines once more. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” I tap his face with the wide end of the tie. “Shall I remove the lace, my Lord Duke? Would that please you?”

  “Yes. Release my hands so I can help you.”

  “You mistake me for somebody with an inferior mind. I might be less than your title, my Lord Duke, but I’m not stupid.”

  His answering smile is almost feral. “I simply wish to unwrap you. I wouldn’t touch your body without your permission.”

  “What part of me do you wish to touch the most?” I untie the lace at my calf and slip it into his fingers. His hold on it is tight and strong so I lower myself to the ground and extend my leg. I circle it in the air, untwisting the lace from around my leg until it is completely exposed.

  “Your legs,” he gulps and wets his lips with his tongue as I pull myself onto my knees and remove the lace from his strong grasp. “I want to feel your flawless skin as I part them with my hands.”

  “Hmm,” I close my eyes, still kneeling between his legs, and allow my hand to drift down to my swollen folds. My thong is damp with my juices. I rub the surface with three fingers, smiling secretly when I hear him strain against his confines again. “Do you like to eat pussy, My Lord Duke?”

  “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” He responds hoarsely, nodding for me to come closer. “You smell divine. I can smell your cunt. You’re attracted to me.”

  As I rise to my feet before him, he grabs the lace at my knee and holds tight once more as I unravel my leg to my hips, giving him a clear view of my voluptuous rear and glistening sex. “I’ve never been attracted to a man more.” Surprisingly this isn’t a lie; the words fall from my mouth far too easily and the thought of straddling this insanely handsome man and riding him into oblivion only makes me wetter.

  “How much to let me touch that glorious arse?” He asks gruffly, tugging his wrists to release them. “Release me.”

  “No.” Turning again, I place my hands on his knees and push my fingers up to his groin, stopping when I feel the heat of him against my knuckles. He bucks his hips forward in an attempt to have me touch him so I pull away and tap his face with the wide part of the tie. “More, my Lord Duke?”

  “Release my bindings. I’ll pay you any amount. Any.” He strains again and curses under his breath, though his body stills when I unravel the last of the lace revealing my smooth stomach and heavy breasts. My nipples are still erect, less than a foot from his face. “I see now what all of the fuss is about.”

  “Thank you.” I reward him by trailing the narrow end of his tie down his chest to his
navel and back up again.

  “Do you like teasing me?” He bites when I lean into him, trapping his head against the chair as I breathe in the scent of his hair. I drop to my knees and blow warm air across the top of his trousers. “Does it make you wet?”

  “All I can think about is releasing your cock and taking you so deeply into my mouth.” I catch the zipper with my teeth and pull the top of his trousers tight with my fingers. Then I slowly pull it down using my mouth after lifting the lace above my lips a fraction. This kind of touching is also against the rules but Rick allows it. It’s part of my game. My seduction. My dance.

  He groans, covering the audible zip of his fly.

  “I bet you’re as hard as steel for me.”

  “I am.” He closes his eyes for a long moment when I gently blow into the gap his fly created. “I’ll pay you ten thousand just to take me in your mouth. If only for a second.”

  The thought of having that kind of money makes me almost forget my morals. “I can’t be bought.”

  “Then let me hire your mouth.”

  “Keep begging,” I say quietly, circling my thumbs either side of his groin. I’m impressed with his ability to keep still.

  “Release my hands!” He half yells and thrusts his hips towards me.

  “No.” I grin again and stand. His eyes follow as I move to the pole and start circling it slowly. “Have you ever fucked somebody as flexible as me?” He shakes his head in response, watching as I lift my legs and wrap them around the pole. “Do you want me, my Lord Duke?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to taste me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What am I to you?”

  “A whore,” he calls me and I drop back onto my heels and charge towards him. He grunts when I raise my hand and bring it across his cheek. It’s only hard enough to surprise him and sting a little.

  “I’m the whore?” I hiss in his ear, wrapping his hair around my fingers and tugging his head back painfully, baring his throat. “How is it that I’m the whore when you’re the one strapped to a chair begging for me to wrap my pussy around that beautiful cock of yours?”

  I release him and drop to my knees, only to tug his trousers down his legs. His tight boxers pull even tighter against his abnormally large dick. I wonder if he used a dick extender before coming. I’ve not seen one this big in anything other than a pornographic movie. It isn’t too big to fit; it’s just a lot bigger than average.

  He catches me staring and smiles. “Maybe I won’t have to pay you to fuck me after all.”

  “Is that what you want?” I place my foot on his trapped arm and slide my hand back down to my sex. He watches closely as I sink a finger into myself. I moan without shame and imagine that it’s his large, calloused hand touching me, that his tongue is working over my clit. “Do you want to be touching me this way, my Lord Duke?” He grunts but says nothing. “How much would you pay me? How much am I worth?”

  “Twenty thousand. I’ll bend you over that bench and fuck you until we’re both raw.”

  I pull my hand away, hating myself for the loss of the burning tingles that were slowly engulfing my body from my own ministrations. “Just twenty?”

  “Thirty,” he grits, struggling angrily against the wraps. “Fucking release me.”

  Lying back on the soft carpet, I arch my spine and bring my heels in so that my legs are bent at the knees.

  “At least release one of my hands so I can relieve myself,” he asks almost kindly. “You’ve got to know how tortured I feel.”

  “Please,” I prompt, sinking my fingers into myself one more time for his viewing pleasure.

  He doesn’t repeat it, too proud to use good manners on a whore, it seems.

  Stopping again, I lean up on my elbows and look at him. His startling, hooded eyes peer at my very soul as I lie here before him, naked and vulnerable. “If you say please, I’ll let you keep my thong.”

  Those hooded eyes widen and instantly the word falls from his mouth. “Please.”

  “Of course, my Lord Duke.” Rising to my feet before him, I carefully slot one leg between the arm and the seat before slotting the other on the other side of him so that I am straddling him. His head is level with my sternum. I can hear his heavy breathing and feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. “Though I can’t allow you to relieve yourself. That will ruin my fun.”

  He growls and lunges forward face first, eager to sink his teeth into my breast.

  I lean back and place a hand at his throat. “Follow the rules, my Lord Duke or I’ll leave.”

  “Your arousal is toying with my head.” He thrusts his hips up to try and meet mine. We both groan when he clashes with the apex of my thighs for a brief second. “I want you. Why won’t you let me have you? I’ll give you anything.”

  “You’ll give me nothing.” My fingers tease the skin of his neck and chest, drawing delicate patterns in the hair there. “Nothing but stillness and I’ll give you everything.”

  He blows out a breath and closes his eyes as I finally begin to dance once more. My hands dance gently across his body, my fingertips lightly grazing over his skin, his throat, his abdomen. He moans quietly and shuffles in his seat as I lower myself onto him until finally I feel the length of his steel cock trapped between the cheeks of my arse.

  He groans like a man starved of sex. I groan like the female equivalent.

  My hips move of their own accord, circling, pressing, skimming and dancing across his legs. I don’t grind against his cock; that’s not part of the game. I give him my eyes and barely touch him yet slightly knock the head of him against my wet and ready entrance. Those little knocks are simple promises of what he wants but can’t have. My nipples brushing his lips as I grip his hair to keep him in place send him wild.

  I burn and ache. My core clenches over and over again, wanting his thick, long cock to spear me and fuck me raw as he promised.

  “Fuck yes, that’s it.” His forehead glistens with perspiration, as does my own skin. “Let me in.” He thrusts upwards, banging the covered, bulbous head of his length against my entrance. Nothing but two thin pieces of fabric separate us. “Let me fuck you!” He starts thrusting wildly, hitting my clit with each pound, sending waves of euphoric bliss burning through me. My stomach begins to clench, my orgasm inevitable, so I rip myself away, pushing him down as I climb from his body.

  He roars loudly at the loss and angry eyes glare at me. “Get the fuck back here.” I can see his cock twitching and throbbing through the tight grey fabric of his boxers. A wet spot forms where the head of his dick rests against his thigh. “Bring me to release or let me relieve myself!”

  “No.” I grin again and rest back against the pole.

  “Release me now!” He bellows, tugging against the restraints. It’s futile. The cuffs are leather, the strongest kind. He has no chance of escape. “I’ll have you fired. This is torture. I will own you.”

  “That’s a lot of threats for a helpless man with his pants around his ankles.” I laugh a breathy laugh and press my foot against his groin. “You have no power here, my Lord Duke.”

  “I have all of the power here,” he spits, relaxing back into his seat and inhaling a breath. “Because it’s me who pays you at the end of it.” His eyes narrow. “And if you don’t get that sexy round arse back here and sit on my cock until I come, you will regret it.”

  “Please,” I prompt and grin when he growls with frustration. “Fine. I’ll let you come, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t ever call me a whore again.” I don’t know why hearing that word from his mouth had such a negative effect on me. I’ve heard it a hundred times from many different men and it didn’t hurt, but from this man, this man I don’t even know, it hurt my feelings. It felt personal. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  Those icy eyes soften for only a chaste moment. “You have my word,” he promises and I turn and lower myself onto his thighs. “I want
to wrap your hair around my hand. Allow me the pleasure.”

  “You know the rules, my Lord.” I grin wickedly and step away from him once more, dancing against the pole with my eyes shut. “No touching.”

  “Why do you cover your face?” He asks as his eyes gaze hungrily at my body.

  I keep moving around the pole, my body slow and sultry, my movements as smooth as a flutter of silk in a breeze. “The same reason a builder wears a hard-hat.”

  “To protect yourself?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Do you have some kind of disfigurement that would lose you custom?”

  I laugh a little and reward him by bending low and wriggling my rear at him. “Perhaps.”

  “I’d like to see your face.”

  “Maybe one day you will.” I clap my hands loudly twice and the colour of the light changes from red to purple.

  My Lord Duke blinks rapidly as he adjusts to it. “Your skin is glowing…”

  I dangle upside down from the middle of the pole. “Have you ever fucked a woman’s mouth in this position?”

  His ragged inhale tells me he hasn’t.

  “Would you like to?”

  His nod tells me he would. He shifts in his seat and flexes his hands. “You like to tease me.”

  “I love to tease you.” This is also another truth. It excites me when he shows his frustration. I bet that in the real world he doesn’t lose it often. “And you love it too.”

  A groan rips through his chest when I drop to my knees and crawl towards him, picking the tie up with my mouth from the ground as I go. I drop it onto his lap. “Is this how you like your women, my Lord Duke?” Then I grin. “No, you get this type of behaviour too easily out there, I bet. That’s why you’ve come here, to me. It’s different; it isn’t free.”

  “You think you know me simply because I’ve paid for you to dance for me?”

  “I think my assumptions are a little more than mere assumptions.” Using the tie, I circle one of his tight nipples and then the other. I dangle the fabric and pull it down his sides, stroking his skin as softly as possible. “But I’m not here to judge; I’m simply learning how to make you tick.”

 

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