Her head flew up with wide eyes. “No,” she whispered furiously, shaking her head.
“Really? Are you sure about that?” I spat out. Looking at her, she seemed flushed, her nipples were tight, poking through her shirt and she was starting to breath faster.
“No, it’s you I want, not him,” she stated firmly but was breathing heavily.
“You seemed to enjoy seeing him,” I spat out.
“No, it brought back bad memories. Seeing you, like this…” she swallowed hard “…in control. I…” Her eyes were on fire, like that night she was pissed off at me for the Steve situation. She didn’t finish her thought and looked down searching for what she wanted to say. She was practically panting now. Fuck. I’d never wanted her so much. I felt like I had to claim her back from that sick fuck.
I stood right in front of her trying to contain my anger, but I couldn’t. I grabbed her throat roughly and tilted her head back. I kissed her neck, roughly moving up to her ear. “You are mine. Do you fucking understand that?” I growled furiously. She nodded her head closing her eyes, breathing heavy.
I moved my hands down to her breasts and grabbed them, squeezing firmly. I couldn’t get to them fast enough. I ripped her top open, reaching under her bra to grab her firm breast. Her nipples were so hard and I pinched them tightly. She moaned with pleasure.
I couldn’t take it anymore and had to be inside of her. I pulled her skirt up and ripped her panties off throwing them to the ground. I reached for her pussy as if I couldn’t live without touching it. She was so fucking wet and ready for me. I shoved two fingers inside of her and she moaned out, “Ohhhhh.” Fuck. I couldn’t take anymore. I undid my jeans, pulled my hard cock out, pushed her back onto my desk, spread her legs and thrust myself into her as far as I could go. I grabbed her hips to pull her closer so I could fuck her as hard as our bodies would allow. She moaned over and over again as I slammed into her faster and faster, feeling everything she had inside of her body. I could tell she was ready to come, but for some reason I didn’t want to give her the command she needed yet. I was still pissed and felt like I wanted to make her wait. She still had it in her head that I had to tell her when to come. For some reason this time, I wanted her as frustrated as I was.
“Please…” She moaned, practically begging several times until I was right there with her and I was ready to explode inside of her.
“Come for me,” I grunted out as I thrust as hard as I could to find my release. “Ohh,” she moaned as her body exploded and shuddered as her orgasm mixed with mine.
I stood there with my cock still inside her breathing fast and looked down at her. What the fuck had I just done? We’ve only made love until this point. I had never been that rough with her or any other girl for that matter. Oh God, I felt horrible almost disgusted with myself. I withdrew from her and grabbed a tissue off my desk and cleaned myself, pulling my jeans back up. Izzy stood up and did the same, pulling her skirt down.
I hugged her tightly feeling terrible. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. I’m so sorry.” I shook my head feeling shameful for taking her so roughly.
“It’s okay. I understand,” she said slowly, biting her lip.
“No, I never meant to be rough with you. Ever.” I grabbed her into me, kissing the top of her head. She hugged me back just as tight.
“You just wanted to claim me, I get it.” She kissed me softly.
Still not feeling alright about what I had just done, I kept thinking about what that asshole said about an agreement.
Trying to contain the bite out of my voice as I asked, “What did you agree to with him?” I stared right into her eyes. Don’t fucking lie to me, please don’t fucking lie to me.
She looked away quickly and I knew she was going to lie. “Nothing.” She swallowed hard.
“Bullshit.” I grabbed her hands tighter, forcing her to stare at me in the eyes, “He told me he was going to call you and that you agreed to something. What the fuck was it?” I asked clenching my jaw.
I watched her swallow hard and meekly she replied, “Dinner. It was just to have dinner with him.”
Fuck No. “No.” I shook my head. “There’s no fucking way you’re going to dinner with that asshole.”
She shook her head, “Okay. I…I won’t…I won’t go.” I let out a huge breath, but I could tell she wanted to go. Fuck. She wanted to have dinner with him. I thought I would try a different approach and make her understand what he did to her. “Did you realize when I ordered you back to the bar, that you looked at him for approval?”
Her eyes flashed with surprise. She didn’t even realize she had done that. I shook my head in disbelief. “He had you so controlled; it’s still automatic to you. That’s how bad he fucked with your head.” I added in, hoping she would realize how much control he had over her for those two years. “Is that how it was with him always? You had to beg to take a piss?”
She shrugged and swallowed hard with tears in her eyes. I led her over to the chair in front of my desk and I sat down in the other one, facing it to hers so our knees touched. I had to finally get this all out in the open. “You need to tell me what happened that final night. What made you finally leave? Because if all that other shit didn’t make you leave, I have to know what finally made you figure out how fucked up it was with him.” She looked at me with fear in her eyes. Tears started rolling down and she started shaking her head. “I can’t. I can’t tell you. You’ll never look at me the same. You’ll hate me or pity me and I don’t know which is worse.”
Nope, not going to work. “No, you have to tell me. We’re never going to get past all this shit if we don’t get it out in the open. We need to get this over with.” My eyes pleaded with her. As much as I knew this was going to suck hearing, I felt we needed to get past this if there was ever going to be anything more between us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Izzy
I FELT SICK. I couldn’t tell him. He would never look at me the same. “Tell me, Izzy. You have to tell me.” He kept pleading. Tears rolled down my face as I remembered what happened.
I realized this was it. This was the end of our relationship. He would never look at me the same again. I didn’t think I could even try to make it less traumatic. I went through it in my head and took a deep breath, sure that I would leave out a lot of detail. Not that leaving any of it out would torment his mindless each time he would look at me.
In a way, I felt like I already lost him. Z’s anger over seeing Pierce McKnight had pushed his anger farther than I have ever seen Z become. He already had a different look in his eyes for me. One I had never seen from him. Knowing we could never get back to the relationship we once had, I told Z what happened that night. I tried to explain it to him without most of the description or feeling, so as not to torment him, not that this wouldn’t torture him enough.
I sat on the edge of the bed naked, arms at my side like I was supposed to, with my blindfold on. I heard the door open and my heart started pounding. I had no idea what I was being punished for. I couldn’t recall doing anything wrong, but maybe he had a bad day and needed to take it out on me. Or maybe it was a good punishment, which made me flush, anxious with desire. My heart was already beating so fast. My body was completely ready for whatever he wanted to do to me. Regardless, I was called in for punishment. The door closed and all was quiet. I tried to strain for the sound of the paddle or whip being brought out, but heard nothing. Instead, he told me move to the middle of the bed and to lay back. I placed my arms over my head, like always.
“Do you remember your safe word?” He asked softly.
“Yes. Como,” I breathed.
He climbed onto the bed and straddled me. He seemed to feel a bit different. Things were off, but I couldn’t explain. His smell was different. Had he changed cologne? He was more romantic with touching and his hand skimmed over my body. And kissing. He kissed me deep. Like I had always wanted him to do. As if he loved me. It was slow and sweet. I moaned, wanting more and he
gave it to me. Long deep kisses entwining our tongues as if they were making love before our bodies were. He kissed my neck and slowly moved down, laying sweet passionate kisses along my breasts, stroking each nipple with his tongue. Then he moved to my stomach placing small sweet kisses all over before finally moving down between my thighs.
Would he let me come this time? I begged for it each time. Would it be different this time? I felt his tongue slowly caress over the top of me. He required me to be bared completely so I felt every movement of his tongue as it slid and began to explore.
“Oh please…” I moaned tilting my hips up slightly, his hands pressed me back down and spread my legs open. And with that he began to consume me. I moaned and was feeling each flick of his tongue as he circled my clit and then pressed his tongue inside me. I moaned again “Please…please…” Oh God, how I wished he would let me come this time. I knew to keep my arms above my head or he might stop and I so did NOT want him to stop what he was doing. Two fingers slid inside of me bringing me closer and closer and then all of a sudden all of it stopped. I heard a condom package rip which seemed so off at the time, but I hadn’t thought much of that and then he slammed into me. But it was different. He seemed different down there. His cock was much thicker than I was used to. I felt him pound into me and I was so close to coming, but he came first and immediately withdrew ripping off the condom and spewing his come all over my stomach.
Realizing that this was a bad punishment, my body tensed. He hadn’t allowed me to come and it would be a full night of him using me for his pleasure only. Taking me to the brink and never letting me come.
And then, I heard it. Soft laughter came from a corner. I desperately wanted to lift my blindfold, but knew that would increase my bad punishment. The laughter seemed like his, but that was impossible because he was on the bed with me. Someone else was in the room? Who? Why? Why would he want anyone else in the room? Quickly I was moved off the bed and into those dreaded chains.
“No,” I cried almost in a whisper for fear of greater punishment. “Please No.” The paddle was brought out. I heard its familiar sound as he tapped it against his thigh.
“Did you enjoy that?” He asked and I could hear his smirk in his voice.
“I… yes, yes, I did,” I replied slowly and almost in a whisper.
“I’m sure you did. Did that feel like LOVE to you?” He stressed “love” as if it were a disgusting word.
“I…I…guess it did. I don’t know. I’ve never felt love, so I…don’t know.” I didn’t know where this was going and was terrified to find out.
“Do you know why you are being punished?” He asked softly.
“No, I have no idea why,” I replied again in a whisper.
“Do you not remember your workouts with Mark?” He whispered into my ear.
“Umm, yes… yes.” I stammered.
“And do you remember what you discussed and talked about with Mark?” He asked almost whispering in my other ear, kissing me lightly on my neck. His kiss felt so good on me and after not being allowed to come, I wanted more and was panting, silently begging for more.
And then I had a small indication of what this punishment was all about. The previous week I had been a bit more talkative with Mark than usual. I had told him how much I wished he would show me that perhaps he might actually love me. I had explained to Mark without going into much detail, how he had seemed to be drifting away from me. I had left out the part about punishments. Had I been too chatty with Mark? Was what I said really that wrong? For two years, I have longed for him to give me just a little more feeling. In the beginning, he had swept me off my feet with sweet kisses during our dates, expensive gifts, trips, seduction of my virginity, that I had thought he wanted me. But obviously, he really just wanted me to be there for his sexual use and to accompany him to business affairs.
Why was he asking? What had I said?
As if reading my thoughts, he started to explain softly. “I had told you in the beginning I was incapable of love. And I had meant it. Why did you think you could change me? You knew I had other submissives and none of them could make me love them. What made you think you could?” He stopped briefly to run his hands along my body softly. “You know very well the life I lead and my needs.” He had exaggerated that word. “I have never lied to you about my specifications. Have I?” He asked.
“No, you haven’t,” I whispered feeling completely defeated.
“Then why did you feel the need to express to Mark your feelings for me? I had thought that you realized that everyone who works for me knows of my…” He paused, “Needs” again exaggerating the word. He sighed. “Mark entertains in my same lifestyle and felt compelled to relay the information.” He paused and I felt my tears falling and hoped the blindfold would catch them before they slid down my cheek. He then continued, “Did you know that some of my submissives have gone to be with Mark when I’m finished with them?”
Shocked at the information just given to me I whispered, “No.”
He continued to speak softly to me, “When I found out about your childhood during our dates, I knew you would be able to become a perfect submissive for me. I thought we had an understanding. I never lied to you. You had never been told you were loved by anyone and understood I would never tell you that. Am I correct?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I began to sob uncontrollably.
“Am. I. Correct?” He enunciated each word slightly louder, bringing me from my self-pity.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Feeling like a lesson, Isabella?” His voice was angry, taunting me. “Love is irrational. You are much like your mother. I’m sure she kept hoping to find that type of feeling, but never found it in all the men she fucked. You are just like your mother. You can keep hoping, but it won’t come.”
I couldn’t say anything at that point. I was, I was just like my mother. I was with him for no other reason than the sex and in return he paid me with trips to Paris, Lake Como, expensive clothes, and jewelry. I tried my whole life not to be like her and in the end, I was exactly like her. I felt disgusted with myself.
“Love is something we will never have. You and I are so similar. We have very similar upbringings, but at least I learned my lesson early on. You, you have this lesson to learn the hard way. I hope you realize that I am doing this for your own good.” And he struck me with the paddle. Each one hitting my buttocks worse than the last. Usually he would rub over me to ease some of the pain, but not this time.
After what seemed like an eternity, he took me down from the chains and put me face down on the bed and began to fuck me hard from behind. It felt so good and I was so ready for him from what he did to me on the bed earlier. It was him, wasn’t it? His cock felt so good in me, thrusting harder and harder and I had a flicker of hope he would let me come this time to end my torment. As I waited for my command, he grabbed my hips harder and I felt his hot rush of come spew inside me. He withdrew and climbed off the bed. I heard him pull his pants back on and zip his pants.
And with that he took my blindfold off and let me see what had actually happened. It had been Mark on the bed with me earlier. His lesson hit me vehemently that anything intimate would never come from him. He stated, “You thought what Mark was doing to you felt like he was loving you, but it was just another fuck to him…and now you understand it was the same to you.” I couldn’t move. I felt so defeated.
“You’ll never have what you think of as love. You’ll always just be another fuck for someone. Lesson learned, Isabella?” He sneered.
I stood up and looked at Mark, who had the most disgusting smirk on his face. I ran out of his bedroom horrified at what just happened. I locked my door and ran to the bathroom and vomited anything that might have been in my stomach. I heaved sobs and felt like I passed out. I awoke on the cold bathroom floor and climbed into bed. I heard the front door open and close with words exchanged. Knocks on my door kept occurring, but I refused to answer.
&nbs
p; I’ve never felt so alone in my life. Alone in the penthouse surrounded by beautiful clothes and…things...I realized how alone I was. Now I had no hope of ever being loved. Now I would just be a whore like my mother.
I was done telling Z what happened, in a slightly more condensed version, and couldn’t look at him. I was so ashamed. So disgusted with myself. Tears fell endlessly it seemed and I had no hope of controlling them.
I heard Z stand up. He paced several times and then—BAM! He punched the wall screaming “Fuck!” I jumped. He continued to swear obscenities, threw papers off his desk, destroying anything he could find.
That was it. I knew it. He would never ever look at me the same. He would never want me again. I would never be loved. Just like he had promised. This was my actual lesson. Nothing was worse than having to retell that to Z. I love him so much, but this was it.
I stood and ran to the door and opened it, grabbing my purse that was near, running as fast as I could. I couldn’t bear to look at him. I didn’t want to see the hatred, disgust or even worse–pity in his eyes. I knew it would come to an end. Nothing in my life ever was good and this proved it. It just proved it.
I ran to the street seeing a cab. I jumped in and decided to try to go as far away as I could.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Z
I HAD PUNCHED the wall and destroyed anything in my office trying to erase the horrible vision of what McKnight had done to my Izzy. Somewhere in the middle of my rage I heard the door open. I was seconds too late as I tried to chase after her. She was too fast. I had just made it to the street when I watched her about two blocks down get into a cab. I ran as hard as I could to catch it, but it sped off just as I was near.
Think. Where the fuck would she go? She had no other friends. Where would she go? Mark? Sandy? Brad? Would she go back to McKnight? No, I couldn’t believe that she would after that story. But then again, it was two years they were together. Did she want to go back to that? I couldn’t help the mix of emotions running through me. Jealousy, hatred for him, pity for her, sadness of her recounting never being able to be loved by anyone.
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