MistressMine

by Samantha Cayto

  Trey gripped his wrist so tight, it was a wonder he didn’t break something. His ass was on fire from the beating he had received only minutes before, yet his erection had never wavered. If anything, it had grown longer and harder. Now he was staring at his Mistress’ pussy, plump and pink with a hint of dark curls. The glistening flesh winked at him and beckoned. His cock pulsed with the need to push inside those welcoming folds and find release. It took all his strength and discipline not to grab his cock and pump the ache right out. But he didn’t have permission to do that. His orders were to crawl to that heavenly place and worship it with his mouth, his lips, his tongue and God, his teeth. This was a mission he knew he could accomplish.

  His gaze fixed on his destination, he knee-walked the few feet. Before he could lean into the chair, however, his Mistress grabbed a fistful of hair and held him back. The sting of his scalp made him grunt with pleasure even as he resisted the urge to push forward. He didn’t like being stopped. He didn’t like having to wait for a taste of this luscious woman.

  “Easy,” she commanded. “You’re here for my pleasure, not yours. To that end, you will make sure that at no time does your cock touch this chair. You will not get yourself off while you pleasure me. Understand?” Her fingers tightened their grip.

  Trey grimaced at the words as much as the discomfort, but he responded the only acceptable way. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” She released him and settled back, eyes closed.

  It wasn’t easy to do as told. He had to brace his legs apart to achieve the right leverage. Even then, he didn’t dive in right away. He wanted to, oh, how he wanted to. He decided, instead, to tease them both by starting with little flicks of his tongue on the inside of her right knee. Her skin was as soft and smooth as her panties. It was warm, too, and even that far away from her cunt, her scent teased his nostrils. He breathed in deeply while he licked his way up her inner thigh. With his eyes closed, he pictured where he was headed, still wanting to race to the finish. His cock was off-limits, but his Mistress had said nothing about other parts of his body. As he leaned in farther to plant kisses near her junction, his nipples rasped against the lining of her jacket. Never before had he or anyone paid particular attention to them. The clamps had heightened their sensitivity. A jolt of pleasure hit him low in the belly.

  Trey moaned and was rewarded with an echo from his Mistress. Her legs moved restlessly while he switched to attend her left one. A hand descended on his head and fingers ran through his hair. There was no grabbing this time and he perversely missed the bite of pain. Still, it encouraged him, told him he pleased her. He would have been happy to nuzzle her thighs longer, but when next his face lay inches from her pussy, her hips bucked a little in invitation. Never one to turn down a lady, Trey slid his tongue between her folds and gave one long lick up her slit.

  “Oh, God,” she sighed and now her fingers clenched his scalp.

  He smiled as he buried his face between her legs, lapping and sucking at her juicy clit. It had been literally years since he had tasted a woman and never had one been so delicious. Sweet and salty, wet and warm, his Mistress was a treat. He licked and nibbled at her swollen flesh, making her writhe ever faster. Her legs closed in on him, her heels dug into his back, urging him to go faster, harder. Keening moans filled the room. She pressed her body so tightly into his face he could hardly breathe. And, yet he stayed firm, taking her clit between his lips and sucking the climax out of her. She doubled over, clasping his head in both hands. He released his hold only to use his tongue once more, lapping her with short strokes to bring another release. She had no time to catch her breath before he sent her over again, and he would have kept going if she hadn’t shouted and shoved him away from her.

  Trey caught himself with his hands, sitting with his fiery ass on the cool stone floor. His Mistress was collapsed against the chair, eyes closed, legs akimbo. She was the perfect picture of a woman satisfied to bonelessness. He stared at her with a measure of pride. He hadn’t known such utter satisfaction before, even while his cock remained hard and aching. If only Juliette would grant him some relief.

  As he thought it, her eyes opened to sleepy slits. “Your turn, precious.” His cock jerked at her words and he shifted back to a kneeling position, hands clenched behind his back. His breath quickened at the notion of finally getting off. “You’re right handed?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then grip your cock with your left hand.” He did as order and shuddered at the feel of his own touch. Not as good as his Mistress’, but after so many hours of restraint, any hand would do. He pumped his hard flesh upward.

  “Stop!” He froze. “I didn’t say you could jerk yourself. Be still. You will move only when I tell you to and stop immediately if I say so. Otherwise there will be no orgasm for you tonight.” Trey shuddered at the effort to obey, a fine sheen of sweat popped out all over his body. He had never been so aroused.

  “Very well, you may work your cock—slowly. You will not come until I tell you to. Is that clear?”

  Trey nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” The words were little more than grunts as he stroked himself slowly and carefully. Enough pre-cum leaked out to slick his movements, but his flesh still burned with need. His balls, pulled tightly to his body, ached for release. The tremors of a climax climbed up from the core of his body, threatening to erupt from his cock. His body shook from the effort to hold back. He didn’t have permission.

  “Hold for me, Trey.” His Mistress’ voice was low and seductive. “I know you can wait for my command. I won’t make you do anything more than you can. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes,” he managed to bite out.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Trust? Did he trust her? Yes, she could take care of him. She was taking care of him. Oh, God, he needed to come. His answer was more grunt than word. “Yes!”

  “All right, then, now.”

  The last word was barely out her mouth before he let himself go. With a roar, Trey climaxed, semen spurting out of his engorged cock. His fist clenched and yanked the orgasm out of his body. He doubled over, his other hand squeezed his balls, more pain and pleasure mixing. He became deaf and blind to everything except the spasms of his cock as he milked that last of the cum from it.

  And, then a hand descended on his head, petted him, and he knew he had just had the best sex of his life.

  Chapter Five

  “I said don’t move!” Trey grimaced with satisfaction as he ground his knee deeper into his squirming prisoner’s back and snapped cuffs in place. The little shit howled like a kid who’d dropped his ice cream cone, but he was well and truly trussed. The guy had to know the FBI had compiled enough information to send him and his friends away for the rest of their wretched lives. Terrorists be damned, it was still good to put away old fashioned mobsters who preyed on Americans every day. Trey stood up, hauling his catch of the day with him. Mike jogged over.

  “Holy Christ, what’s put the spring in your step?” Trey quirked his eyebrows. “The way you climbed that fence and brought this mother down, you were in fine form my friend.” Mike slapped him on the back. “Man, bringing down the Moss gang makes this a beautiful day.”

  “For some people, maybe,” grumbled the prisoner.

  “No one asked you, asshole,” Trey snarled, but he was grinning like a fool. The takedown was wrapping up early enough for him to meet Juliette. God, his cock throbbed. It had remained hard all night and most of the day. The temptation to make it go away had been strong, ignoring the urge had been pure torture. Still, he hadn’t touched himself because his Mistress had ordered him not to—again. The very thought that a woman now controlled him, or his body anyway, turned his arousal up to an eleven. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he had actually taken the step to become some woman’s toy.

  Had he really gone to a strange club, sat around waiting for a woman to pick him up and then when one did, followed her into a room, let her string him up and w
hip his ass? Yes, his ass was telling him with its faint sting, he had. And, he had done it again two nights ago. It had been amazing. The beatings had been not only arousing, but calming. The stress had fled his body, leaving him satiated and refreshed the next day. Except one part, of course, remained needy. His erection had begun the moment he had laid eyes on Juliette and hadn’t flagged with the pain, or with the glorious experience of going down on her or even jerking himself off at her command. He licked his lips and swore he could still taste her. He grunted as he shoved the prisoner into the back of a car. Both the guy and Mike stared at him. He slammed the door and smiled back at his friend.

  Mike gave him the once over, but Trey had strategically crossed his hands in front of him. Still, the guy was no fool. His eyes narrowed. “You’ve been awfully cheerful all day and for the better part of the week, come to think of it. Damn, boy, are you getting yourself laid again?”

  “No, sir, I am not,” he answered in all honesty.

  His friend didn’t seem convinced. “Something’s up with you.” He beckoned with his fingers. “Give.”

  With a grunt, Trey moved away from the car and with a flick of his head, asked the other man to join him. He wasn’t sure what to say, but this was his best friend, a man he had fought alongside and was still fighting alongside albeit in a very different sort of war. Besides as safe he had felt in the club and with Juliette, it would be wise for someone else to know where he was going.

  How to tell his friend, though? It wasn’t exactly small talk. Hey, great news, I found my inner submissive! Want to go have a beer in celebration? No, that approach might give his friend a heart attack, although frankly he couldn’t think of a more acceptable way to broach the subject. Damn. He pinched the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath and just spitting it out. “Remember that weird card I found in my pocket last Sunday? Well, I called it, went to this club in the old Leather District, met a woman and let her work me over. I enjoyed it enough to have met her twice.”

  Mike stared back at him as if frozen in time for a few seconds. Blinking hard, he said, “You’re not joking. I can tell when you’re joking and you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” Trey grinned and shrugged.

  His friend rubbed a hand down his face. “So let me get this straight. You went to a strange club and let a strange woman, what, beat you?”

  “With a suede flogger. She has crops and paddles, but the flogger is her favorite.” He waited a beat. “And mine.”

  “Uh-huh. What color is it?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Red and black. Beautiful really. Looked handmade.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mike said again. “And, this woman, does she look like Catwoman, or something?”

  “No, actually she looks like an accountant, which is what she is.”

  “An accountant? An accountant beat you with a beautiful, handmade, red and black suede flogger?”

  Trey blew out a long breath. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

  Mike held up his hands in surrender. “Oh, I believe you. Only a psycho could make up that kind of detail and I know you’re not a mental case. It’s the weirdest goddamn thing I’ve ever heard, but I for sure believe you. I have one final question. Do you really like it?”

  In answer to the question, Trey unclasped his hands and spread his arms wide. His friend glanced down at Trey’s crotch, as intended, and winced. “Oh, man, you’re going to make my eyeballs bleed. I do not need to see that. A simple yes would do.”

  Chuckling, Trey clasped his friend on the shoulder. “Come on, I want to finish up the paperwork and get going. I have a date tonight.”

  “With the sadistic accountant?” When he nodded, Mike continued, “Are you going to get laid tonight?”

  “I don’t know. That’s for my Mistress to decide.” As he said it, his muscles relaxed a fraction. He didn’t know what would happen that night, but he didn’t need to know. It wasn’t his decision, wasn’t his problem, to decide. Relinquishing control was liberating. Soon he could stop thinking, stop worrying, and the mere thought of it gave him a measure of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

  * * * * *

  Juliette entered Unfettered and already felt at home. The club was a little bit more lively than it had been the other nights. There were a couple of dozen people milling about. A few of them tried to catch her eye immediately, but she was looking for one man only, and there he was. Trey sat on the same stool as she had ordered, drinking what she knew to be soda water, again as she had ordered. She wanted his mind clear for what she planned. She hefted her gym bag higher on her shoulder. This time she had come with more advanced toys to play with. Their scenes together had been successful thus far, and she deemed it time to step things up, make them more intimate.

  She made her approach slow and quiet and was pleased when he turned to see her even before she arrived. Her pleasure increased tenfold when he stood up and assumed his submissive pose. Yet he hadn’t done so quickly enough for her to miss his expression. Hungry, that was the right description for it. It was as she had hoped when dressing for the evening. Gone were her business casual clothes. Instead, she wore a sleeveless black suede minidress, cut low to accentuate her breasts. Her high-heeled boots were red suede, the ensemble a deliberate homage to her precious flogger. She had dressed to entice and incite. The thick bulge of her boy’s jeans confirmed she’d succeeded.

  She didn’t bother to say anything, merely turned on one sharp heel and strode toward the play rooms. Of course, Trey followed her, that was a given. After a quick consultation with Dru, Juliette entered a room farther down the hall from the simple room they had used the previous nights. This new chamber was set up like a bedroom, a simple one, but it served her intent very nicely. The dominant piece of furniture was a dark, steel-framed canopy bed with a flat top and a St. Andrew’s cross at the foot. Perfect, given that she’d decided to first beat her boy and then fuck him. Perhaps it was too soon for that type of intimacy, yet she couldn’t resist. Just seeing the man again had sent her body into overdrive. Panty-less as she was, her inner thighs were already wet from her juices.

  Juliette went to place her bag on a low table by the wall. “Strip.” She didn’t turn to watch him, although she wanted to very badly. Instead, she opened her bag and pulled out a few toys. She took a couple of yoga breaths for calm before turning to look at Trey. It was her long experience as a Domme that kept her from giving any outward signs of pleasure. She perused her naked sub, standing with legs braced, head down and hands clasped behind his back. His cock jutted out from his body, hard and dark from engorgement. Her pussy clenched at the sight. Her nipples tightened and tingled. What she wanted was to go to him, drop to her knees and swallow that magnificent rod whole.

  What she did was scoop up a couple of her toys and saunter toward him. It was hard to do, but necessary. It was her duty to be in control. He needed to know he could trust her to be careful. If she gave into her impulses, he would be right to worry she couldn’t be trusted to stop if necessary. So she took it slow, stopping in front of him, gently taking his hard length in a firm grip and yanking. A harsh sound, part groan, part gasp, erupted from his mouth.

  She cooed to soothe him, yet kept her grip tight. “Have you been a good boy, Trey, and left your cock alone?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The struggle to speak clearly was obvious. The poor boy was in pain, and he was going to be in more soon enough.

  “Go stand against the cross, facing me,” she ordered, following him as he complied. She didn’t bother to truss him up for what she had planned. He had already proven himself to be stoic, so she judged he’d be able to stand still while she applied her toys to his body. “First things first,” she said briskly. “I’ve seen stronger boys than you coming spontaneously from a good beating. We can’t have that now, can we? This simple harness will keep you nice and hard until I say otherwise.”

/>   As she spoke, Juliette snapped a soft leather cuff around the base of his cock and wrapped its split strap down between his balls to separate them. When she snapped the two tongues of the strap to the cuff, Trey’s package was secured high and tight against his body. His breath became more labored. The taut skin of his cock darkened. She ran a finger up the length of it and flicked the glans just to see him jerk. He didn’t disappoint.

  “Good,” she purred. “Now a little bit more pain to add to both of our pleasure.” She had brought her more elaborate nipple clamps this time. She leaned over and laved his right nipple with the tip of her tongue. Not many straight men appreciated the sensitivity of their own chest. It delighted her when he uttered a low curse.

  His response morphed into a full blown “Holy Fuck” when she removed her tongue and replaced it with the clamps, tightening them into his aroused flesh.

  “Wait until I take it off,” she warned sweetly. “Remember the pain will be far worse.” She repeated her ministrations with his left nipple, but she wasn’t done yet. Grabbing a handful of the clothespins, she applied a few along the underside of his restrained cock. Engorged as it was, little skin was available to pinch, making the pain that much more intense. Trey shook and stuttered out low moans as she worked her way down the shaft. He howled when she moved to his balls, head thrown back. Moisture leaked from the corners of his eyes. Juliette thumbed away the tears with a murmur of comfort and stood back to admire her handiwork. Despite her sub’s response, she knew the restraints were quite mild. They were plenty for what was only their third time at play, however. It was hard to believe they had known each other for such a short time, she was so comfortable with him already. “Turn around, spread you legs and place your hands on the cross by the shackles.”

  With a shuddering breath, he obeyed her, keeping his body far enough from the cross so that his cock didn’t touch it. The cross was made from the same dark steel as the bed frame, with bars that were a couple of inches wide. She secured his ankles first into cuffs lined with a soft material, then she did the same with his wrists, pulling everything tight so that he couldn’t move his arms and legs. He said nothing while she moved his body into position. His breath, though, became more labored and the hairs stood up on his body.