Black Velvet (The Velvet Rooms Book 1)

by Linnea May

  I can’t get enough of her.

  Chapter 24

  Liana

  It’s been seven days. Four days since I was supposed to show up at work for my last week on the job. Four days since people – someone, anyone – must have noticed that I’m gone.

  I’m sitting on my bed, chained, waiting for him, wearing nothing but the lacy lingerie he provided for me – and the red coat. This is what my life has become, what I have become. I’m always waiting for him.

  Does anyone miss me? Are they searching for me? Does my mother know? Would she even care?

  After all that happened in the week leading up to my kidnapping, one could just as well suspect that I ran away, taking a leave from my normal life because I couldn’t handle all the shit that had happened. It would make sense, and only a person who knew me very well would know that I’d never do such a thing. I’m responsible, organized, very predictable. There’s nothing crazy about me or my life, I never overact or react in extreme ways.

  Until now.

  As fucked-up as this is, my life has never been as exciting as this past week with him. I’m chained, and confined to this room, locked up and pacing in my cage like a tiger, only allowed to move between the bedroom and the bathroom.

  He always leaves the door to the other room locked. I’ve only ever been in there with him present, and every time I came back with marks on my body, my knees shaking – and my pussy dripping. He has been doing a lot of things to me that were not considered punishment, but merely part of my training. He tied me down on the bed once, using the shackles at the bed posts to fasten my hands and legs so tightly that there was absolutely no leeway for me to move. Then he forced a vibrator on my clit, taking orgasm after orgasm from me. He made me count them, just like I was told to count the spankings during my first punishment, and he made me look at him every time I came.

  “Remember who is doing this to you,” he kept saying. “I’m doing this to you. Every one of your orgasms is mine.”

  On some days, he made me come a dozen times, on other days, he tortured me with intense teasing before withdrawing the permission to come until the next day.

  Those days were the worst.

  He told me I wasn’t allowed to touch myself when he was gone, but I did it anyway.

  Once.

  That day I learned that he’s watching me through cameras. I should have realized it, but I didn’t, and when I took a release from my body that was meant to be his, he knew.

  He was so angry that I ended up in the attic again, making my worst nightmare come true. I thought he’d throw me in there without anything, making the punishment so much worse than it was during the first night. But for some reason, he allowed me to wear the red coat.

  He didn’t leave me in the attic for long, though. I don’t know how long it was in the end, but if I had to guess, I would say it was less than three hours before he dragged me back to my bedroom. I don’t know why he cut the punishment short, especially because he was still furious when he came back for me. But instead of letting me rot in that cold and dusty attic, he decided to add a few blows with a leather flogger while tying me down on the bed.

  The pain was not as bad as the unfulfilled need he left me with that night. My hands and ankles were tied to the bed posts, and I winced and curled my body in agony, desperate for the release I was denied.

  I think I’m beginning to understand what he means when he speaks of training. This is what he’s talking about: my addiction, my need, my dependence. It’s only been a week, and already I find it hard to imagine how I will ever be able to find pleasure without him.

  There’s only one thing that disturbs me even more than this.

  He has never fucked me.

  He has done everything to me, he has made me come in so many ways, touched me, teased and tortured me. He has seen me in so many states, explored every inch of my body, and uncovered a part of my soul that even I didn’t know existed. He’s peeling away the person I used to be, day after day, touch after touch, climax after climax.

  And I haven’t even seen him naked. There were times when he took me to the other room and got so worked up that he took off his shirt, treating me to a view that took away the pain in an instant. He’s so ripped, his body a piece of art work, with clear-cut muscles gracing his abdomen, his tanned skin stretching over stark trenches leading down to his pelvis.

  I’ve tried to touch him in my lusty daze, but he never allows me to. It was another kind of punishment, to lay this perfect body in front of my eyes but not allow me to play with it.

  He’s inked, too. But his tattoos are so unlike any I’ve ever seen on a man before. When I gawked at the guys lifting at the gym during my very few visits there, I would usually find words or tribal designs, sometimes animals or some kind of symmetric pattern, on their arms.

  He, my Master, is sporting none of that. The tattoos covering his chest and parts of his upper arms look more like scratches or wounds, randomly placed on various places around his body. They look like marks from a fight more than a decoration. I wonder what they are all about, but I never dared ask him.

  I stopped asking questions a long time ago because I’ve given up on ever hearing any answers. He’s psychotic, a mystery - and I’m growing more and more attached to him with every day I spend in his hands, in his control.

  I don’t know if this was his plan all along, but he has changed me. He has brought me to a place where I find myself longing for him more than I long for the freedom from which I’ve been robbed.

  Chapter 25

  Joseph

  She’s waiting for me, kneeling with her thighs spread wide, her perky ass resting on her ankles, her back arched, chest forward, her head held high, and her eyes lowered. Her hands are resting palms-up on her thighs. The perfect pose of the pleasure slave.

  When I close the door behind me, I can see her wince, her eyelashes fluttering as I approach her. Nothing suggests that today would be any different than the days before. She has been waiting like this for me every single day, just as I told her to. Her eyes are lowered, her body tense with anticipation, and she averts her eyes like she always does.

  Nothing is different today than it was yesterday, or the day before.

  Until I touch her.

  When I lean forward to caress the powdered skin on her cheek, she doesn’t flinch away like she did before. Instead, she leans into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as she welcomes me.

  My heart skips a beat, realization blossoming in my chest, as I understand what this means.

  She’s ready.

  “Look at me,” I tell her.

  She obediently lifts her eyes up to me. Like every day, she had no trouble following her orders to get ready for me. She’s showered, shaved, smelling like a delicate flower, and her face is painted with the make-up I laid out for her. However, today she looks different than usual. I never gave her any instructions as to what I like on a woman’s face, but trusted her own judgment on what would look good on her. Until now, she’s opted for a subtle look, only emphasizing her natural features, and not turning her face into a mask.

  Today, the black lines around her eyes are drawn out longer, adding a seductive and almost cat-like look to her face, especially as her lips are painted in blood red. She almost looks like a different person, and I’m not sure if I like it.

  But I know what she’s trying to tell me.

  She’s completely naked, only wearing the collar I gave her on the first day. I took off the leash earlier today, after bringing her breakfast, so she could eat and get ready for me. She never knows when I’ll be back, but she knows that I will be back, and she knows that I will play with her.

  Today, it seems, she has something else on her mind. She’s trying to play me.

  An entire week. It’s never taken me this long to shove my cock inside the pussy that’s mine. I never had to wait this long. With Ruby, anything else would have felt wrong.
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  She looks like the epitome of a sex goddess, her plush lips pouting ever so slightly while she bats her eyelashes at me.

  “You look hungry,” I say, as I hold her chin between my thumb and index finger, forcing her to maintain eye contact with me. “Starved for cock. Is that what you are?”

  She blushes and tries to look away, but I don’t let her. Her reaction calls my cock to attention. Within a moment, it’s yearning to be buried inside of her. It only gets worse as I realize that today will finally be the day when that happens.

  “Answer me, my pet,” I tell her. “Are you hungry for my cock?”

  She bites her lower lip. Killing me.

  “Yes, Master,” she breathes. Even the tone of her voice is different today.

  I know she’s not a talker. Making her say things she wouldn’t say on her own is part of the game. She needs to admit to being the slut she is for me to fully enjoy her.

  “Let’s see what we can do about that,” I say. “Put your hands behind your back, your hands touching your elbows.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I make sure she understood the instructions before I walk over to the other room to fetch three hemp ropes from the cabinet. This should do.

  She’s familiar with being tied up, but I have never tied her in a proper harness before. I move her hair up to the front so it doesn’t get in the way, and begin tying her up in a simple box tie, restricting her arms by fastening the rope around her upper arms, letting it cross between her breasts at the front and tying her wrists together. It’s a classic tie and one I’ve done a thousand times before, so the motions come to me without even thinking about it. The process itself is highly erotic, serving not only to restrict her movements, but to tease her by playing with her nipples, caressing her skin in sensitive places, causing her to moan as I trace little bites along her neck.

  She leans into my embrace, sighing softly every time I fasten the rope around her body. I finish tying the knot at her back, making sure that the rope doesn’t cut into her skin too much anywhere.

  “Does this feel good?” I ask her, still kneeling behind her, my arms placed on her shoulders.

  She sighs and leans back into me. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good girl.”

  I can almost feel her heart jump at the words, and a faint smile appears on her face when I plant a kiss on her left cheek. I get up on my feet and stand before her, watching her as she gets accustomed to the feel of the rope around her chest and arms. Her back is arched, because of the strain that’s put on her arms tied at her back, pushing her breasts forward. Her nipples are hard and her breasts stick out even more due to the rope cutting into her flesh around them.

  “Very good girl,” I praise her again, reveling in the face she makes when I begin to unfasten my belt.

  Her eyes light up with excitement and she quivers, struggling against her restraints.

  My rock-hard erection springs free right in front of her face, the tip already glistening with wetness. Her eyes are glued to my cock for a few moments as she takes in its size. I know I’m quite blessed in this regard, but I still enjoy seeing a girl’s eyes light up with amazement and a hint of worry when she see my hard length and girth for the first time.

  Ruby pulls her gaze away from my steel rod to look up at me, the sexiest pleading expression evident in her eyes.

  I could give her permission and calmly tell her that she’s allowed to suck on it. But I opt to remind her who’s in charge here. I place my hand at the back of her head, grabbing a fist of her hair as I tilt her head back.

  “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” I command her. “Show me how hungry you are, my pet.”

  She grimaces in pain as I pull on her hair, but obediently opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue like a bitch in heat.

  “Good girl,” I praise her before shoving my length between her lips in one brute motion.

  Chapter 26

  Liana

  I’m choking on his cock, surprised by his sudden move. He’s so big, but pays very little consideration to the fact that he might be too big for me. He shoves his entire length inside my mouth, until his broad tip is pressed against the back of my throat.

  I gag and hack, desperate for air and fighting my gag reflex, but instead of releasing me, he pushes even further, keeping my head in place while he moves his hips forward until my lips are almost touching his pelvis.

  “We’ll have to work on that,” he comments as I struggle for air.

  He finally lets go of me, giving me only a few seconds to gasp for air before he shoves himself inside again. This time he doesn’t push until he presses against the back of my throat, but shortly before that, stopping just as I start gagging again. He moves backward. Slowly. Allowing me to properly wrap my lips around his member and play along his shaft as he continues to move back and forth in a deliberate manner.

  I can’t balance on my own with my arms tied up like this. I’m completely at his mercy, balancing only with the help of my weak core muscles, depending on his guidance. His grip around my hair loosens, allowing me to gain some control over my own movements.

  He was already hard when I began sucking him, but I can feel him growing even more solid between my lips. I’m filled with pride and accomplishment when he lets out a deep groan of pleasure, throwing his head back, losing sight of me, but never letting go of my head. Even now, as I please him to the best of my ability, he’s the one who’s in control.

  Just as I’m beginning to feel as if I might be winning over some of that control, he stops me mid-motion, holding me back by my hair and taking a step back before he leans over, his face right in front of mine when he fixes me with an intense stare. I’m panting, desperately trying to fill my lungs with air, while saliva is running down the side of my face.

  “I need to fuck you,” he hisses, moving his face so close to mine that our noses are touching.

  It’s now that I’m made aware of something else that’s been missing between us.

  A kiss.

  We have never properly kissed.

  I lean forward, certain that this will be the time to change that, but he has other plans.

  He jumps up, forcing me to follow him by dragging me up on my feet. I stagger like a newborn deer, struggling to maintain my balance without being able to move my arms.

  My scalp hurts from all the hair pulling, and I sigh in relief when he finally lets go of me, instead hooking his finger into the ring on my collar to lead me over to the bed.

  “On your back,” he says, much to my surprise.

  I climb up on the sheets, even more clumsy than usual, as I try to lay down without having the support of my arms. He notices my struggle and helps by grabbing my shoulders and slowly lowering me down to the mattress.

  “Lift your legs and bend your knees,” he orders next.

  I’m trembling with need, dizzy with anticipation, while I position myself the way he asked me to, watching him with curious eyes while he throws another bundle of rope next to me on the sheets. Then he finishes undressing himself.

  Finally.

  I can’t take my eyes off of him as he slowly removes one piece of clothing after another. His hard cock is glistening with my saliva, jutting out with its impressive length and delicious girth. I can’t wait to feel him inside of me.

  It’s the first time for me to see him naked, allowed to see him in all his tanned glory. The strange ink stretches over his muscular arms when he climbs onto the bed, grabbing the rope in the process. It’s easy to tell that he has done this sort of thing a lot of times before. He starts on my left leg, pushing it until it’s fully bent at the knee, before he starts wrapping the rope around it, fastening it just below my knee and adding another knot just above my ankle.

  I watch him, turned on and fascinated at the same time. Even after an entire week as his captive, I still struggle to place the fact that it took so long for this to happen, so I could have
my darkest fantasies realized.

  He moves on to my other leg, deliberately letting the rope caress over my wet center. The rough material prickles against my sensitive skin, and I see him grinning as I moan in bliss.

  “Frog-tie is what they call this,” he says as he fastens the last knot around my other leg. “But I think fuck-tie is more appropriate. Wouldn’t you agree, Pet?”

  I’m sprawled out in front of him, my legs tied and spread apart, rendered immobile by his rope skills. Before I can give him a reply, he moves his hand between my legs, casting me a mischievous smile when he finds the proof of my arousal.

  “So wet for me,” he whispers. “What a perfect little pet you are.”

  I groan a desperate response while he plays with my clit, threatening to make me come before I can feel him inside me.

  “Please,” I hear myself plead. “Please, fuck me.”

  He hums in approval. “Oh, I will.”

  My heart jumps when he reaches over to the night stand next to my bed, opening the first drawer to fetch a condom. I know that they’ve been in there all this time, and I’ve been waiting for him to open that damn drawer for so long.

  I feel so adrift and helpless before him, and it’s this understanding of being at his mercy that fuels my heated need for him. I’ve wanted to feel this way, and despite the frightening reality of these circumstances, I cannot help but yearn for the final step. For him.

  He rolls the condom over his hard length in no time, teasing me by placing his head at my wet entrance with no apparent intention to move any further. He casts me a dark smile, full of promise and the knowledge that he has won.

  I don’t care. I don’t care if he thinks he has me right where he wanted me all along. All I care for is my own pleasure, my own needs that still don’t stand fulfilled. I tried to shift myself closer to him, but my legs are tied so tightly that it’s hard for me to move across the sheets, especially since I can’t do anything with my arms.