by West, Jade
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”
“We’ll see.” I stood to his side, smiling at the discovery that my knee was perfectly positioned to hook under and slam straight into his cock. I laughed as I demonstrated, applying just a little pressure. “I hope you’re feeling sufficiently vulnerable.”
“You’re wasting time,” he said. “We do have some work to do before the day’s over.”
I trailed my fingernails down his spine. “We’ll do whatever I fucking say we’re going to do.”
I pinned him by the neck, forcing his cheek flat to the desk so I could enjoy the seeing pain on his face. I rested the paddle on the small of his back, and slid my thumb along the crack of his ass. I wriggled it when I found his tight little asshole, not enough to penetrate, yet still I felt him flinch. “Scared of a little thumb? Surely not,” I mocked.
“Piss off,” he said. “It’s been a fucking while.”
“You’re in luck,” I said. “I’ll have to fuck your ass another day. Today is all about the pain. You deserve everything you’re going to get.”
He opened his mouth to argue the toss, but grunted instead as the paddle landed. It landed hard, and made one hell of a thwack. His beautiful ass blushed pink.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he sneered, but his teeth were gritted.
“Better? How about this?”
Rhythmic slaps, back and forth, cheek to cheek, and it felt fucking divine. He’d jump with every slap, at first; the tiniest little jerk as the paddle landed. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t make a sound, eyes closed and lips tight.
At first it was a horny little novelty, a simple pleasure at having won a tiny piece of ground from him, but the solid pulse of the paddle in my grip was intoxicating. It did something to me, something primal and dark. I felt a sizzle of life through my veins, a bloodlust I’d never before tapped, and I found myself grinning.
I hit him with everything I had, raining punishment all over his thighs. He kept it together like a trooper, breath even and face impassive, but for all his best intentions it was only a matter of time. When he finally let out the first pained yelp, it was sweet music to my wanting pussy.
“Yes,” I hissed. “The mighty Andy Morgan, hurting like my little bitch. You ought to see the state of your fucking ass, Andy. It’s fucking beautiful.”
“Fuck you,” he spat. “Is that all you’ve got? I could take this all fucking night long.”
The jerk of his body as I picked up pace told me otherwise. I whacked his ass every which fucking way until my arm ached and Andy was panting.
“You think you can lord it around like the big fucking I am, and I’m just going to shut my pretty mouth and play nice? I’m not your fucking servant, Andy. I do what I fucking want. Things are going to change around here, partner.”
The flesh of his ass cheeks was rigid, hardening into welts under the skin.
“Does it hurt, pretty boy?” I said. “Tell me how it fucking feels.”
“No,” he lied.
“No?!” I reached for the cane, and swished it before his eyes. “You want more? Is that what you’re fucking telling me?” I tapped the cane on his shoulder blades and he winced at that.
Bravado is such a bitch. The stupid, proud asshole just couldn’t bring himself to give in.
“You’ll have to try harder to break me, Faye, you’re not even fucking close.”
I ran the tip of the cane down his back. “Why do you have to push it so far?” I whispered. “Am I really so unforgivable?”
I raised the cane high, aiming right for the heart of his bruised flesh, and brought it down so hard it stung my hand. The chain rattled as he strained in his cuffs, and his legs buckled, shaking. I didn’t give him chance to recover before I landed another. It was savage and cruel, but I didn’t fucking care. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted to hear his pain. I wanted to see him squirm and twitch and writhe for me. I wanted him to beg. I swung the cane and hit him again.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You sadistic fucking bitch, Faye.”
“Tell me how it fucking hurts, pretty boy.” I landed a fourth strike diagonally across the first three, and ridged welts turned purple as pooled blood threatened to break through, and Christ it looked delicious. “Tell me how much it hurts! Tell me!”
His whole body leapt forward at the fifth strike. The cane drew blood, just a little, but enough to give me tingles in the pit of my stomach. I clenched my thighs, and my pussy throbbed so hard it fucking ached. “Fuck yes, you’re fucking bleeding, pretty boy,” I groaned and squeezed his skin, coaxing every drop from the welt. He let out a gasp as my tongue swept over the wound. “Your blood takes so fucking sweet,” I said. “Tell me how much it hurts, or I’m going in for seconds.”
He remained silent. Not even a fucking groan of pain to ease the fire in my belly.
I reached under him and grabbed hold of his cock. Despite the pain he was almost fully hard, swelling in my grip as I yanked him.
“Why won’t you give me a fucking break?” I asked “I jumped through every fucking hoop you threw at me… without hesitation, without question. I put myself on the fucking line for you, Andy, to make up for what I did.”
“My heart fucking bleeds for you,” he said. “You want a fucking medal for doing the fucking banking? Hit me, Faye, just fucking hit me and shut your stupid fucking mouth.”
I threw the cane aside and took the strap from the case. “One of us is going to break first,” I said, trailing the leather over his battered skin. “Just tell me it hurts, and I’ll fucking stop, Andy.”
I leaned over him, my body pressed to his back to hold him in position. It was perfect leverage, the perfect angle to hit him hard.
I didn’t count how many he took. I didn’t even care. There was only the thrill of his body beneath me, a thrill that made my clit throb ever so sweetly. I rested my cheek against his clammy shoulder, soaking up his pain as he grunted and jerked beneath me.
“Tell me it hurts, pretty boy,” I whispered. “Tell me you’re fucking sorry.”
He didn’t utter a word, letting out only a long low growl as the strap curled around his thigh.
“I spent three years of my life kneeling before a man who wouldn’t bend for me,” I breathed. “Don’t think I’m about to do the same again. I left that weak pathetic Faye in Italy, Andy, and no matter how hard you fucking push me she’s never coming back. I’m not going to break for a man who won’t show me the same courtesy, not ever fucking again.”
I dropped the strap and caught my breath, my chest rising in unison with his underneath me and I felt so fucking horny.
“I’m done,” I said. “Done with your shit, done with his shit, done with everything. I’m here for my fifty, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to fucking deal with it.”
“This isn’t even fucking about me, is it? What the hell happened to you out there, Faye? What’s with the crazy fucking bloodlust?” He strained his head to meet my eyes. “I think it’s about time you started fucking talking.”
“You’re in no position to tell me what it’s time for.” He flinched as I ran my fingers across the welts on his ass. “I like you like this, you know. We could work like this.”
“Don’t count on that,” he snapped. “This isn’t how I fucking play.”
“So you keep saying,” I whispered. “But look at where we are. Look at where we’ve ended up. Maybe this could be our way, Andy. If only you could see how beautiful you are like this, it really does suit you.”
“Are you fucking done?” he said, pulling at the chain.
I let out a low laugh. “Not even fucking close.”
I got to my feet, stepping away for a clearer vantage point. My fucking God, he was magnificent. The muscles in his shoulders were tight from the strain of holding position, but his legs had all but given up the ghost. His thighs were twitchy and veined with adrenaline, a fight or flight reaction that had no-fucking-wher
e to go. He was far from broken, and so fucking far from submissive that the very idea itself was laughable, but fuck was he hot like this. He deserved it. He fucking deserved all of it.
His thighs were criss-crossed red on pink, and his ass was purpling nicely. The cut was still open, dribbling a line of blood down his battered skin. Fucking gorgeous. I took a deep breath and positioned myself between his legs, running my hands up over the welted flesh to follow the glorious curve of his hips as it dipped into his waist.
“I’d love to fuck you like this, pretty boy,” I said. “Grease up a nice big fucking dildo and plough your ass so deep you’d cry like a baby.” I thrust my crotch against his bruises, and he cursed expletives under his breath. “I could take it slow if you asked nicely,” I said grinding into him. “It could feel so fucking good if you let it. All you have to do is break for me.”
He twisted his neck to glare daggers at me over his shoulder. “No fucking chance, Faye. I’m no fucking submissive. Get on with what you’re fucking doing, or let me out of these fucking cuffs.”
“Spoilsport.” I dropped to my knees and spread him wide enough to see the dirty little ring of his asshole. He clenched tight before my eyes, and I smiled to myself. “Just a taste, then,” I whispered. “I bet you taste so fucking good.”
He groaned as my tongue found the spot. I dug at him, squirming my way just inside the tight ring of muscle. He wouldn’t let me in far, but it didn’t matter. He was bound and sore and vulnerable, and fucking delicious.
“More,” I murmured. “Open up for me, pretty boy.”
“No,” he hissed. “If you want to play anal we’ll do it the other way around. Let me out and I’ll show you how fucking good it can feel.”
“Nice try,” I laughed. “But not today, Andy. Not fucking today. In fact, I could keep you here all week, couldn’t I? As long as I fed you, and you had a bucket to shit in. I’d even clean your peachy little arsehole for you, my darling.”
“Stop being fucking stupid and get on with it. You’re fucking boring me.”
“Boring? Moi? Tut fucking tut, pretty boy.” I peppered his skin with soft kisses, loving how the ridged flesh felt against my lips. “I want to see you bleed,” I whispered, no longer sure if I was talking to him or myself. I slid my fingers between my legs, and my clit was so tender it sent wonderful sparks dancing down my thighs. Lust was a heady swirl behind my eyes, demanding more. I picked out a particularly raised welt on his ass, at the juncture of several well placed cane stripes. The purpling was so pronounced, so close to breaking through. It would take just a little coaxing, a little more beautiful pain. I clamped my mouth onto the sweet spot and sucked and his legs came back to life, straightening out as he registered what I was doing. I slipped a hand under to his cock, and he calmed as I worked it, long slow jerks of pleasure to counteract the pain. I opened wide, sucking tender flesh into my mouth, and he groaned, how he fucking groaned. I heard his first proper wail as I bit down, a genuine cry that set my clit on fucking fire. I pulled away with puffy lips, and the result was perfection. My teeth marks pooled with blood, my smudged lipstick framed them like a work of art. “That will last more than a fucking week,” I said.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “Did you just draw fucking blood? Jesus, Faye, I didn’t have you down for some batshit fucking vamp. What the fuck did that stupid cunt teach you in fucking Venice?”
“This isn’t him,” I said. “This is all me.” I savoured one last lick before I got to my feet, and I was too wound up to think straight, too horny to fucking breathe. I unbuttoned my blouse, reaching inside the lace cups of my bra to twist my nipples. They sparked like lightning and took my breath away. Yes. I needed this. “I need to come,” I hissed. “And you’re going to make me.”
“Let me out, then,” he snapped. “We can switch this up a bit, I think you’ve got some fucking comeuppance due.”
“No,” I laughed. “Not this week. This week you’re mine.” The words hit me in my gut, and it felt good. He was all mine. Mine to control, mine to command, mine to fucking hurt. I took the cane in my hand, and he flinched as he caught sight of it. “So much I could do,” I said. “So much I want to do.”
I kicked his ankles apart until his legs were wide, then tapped the cane lightly against his balls. He really did flinch then, wriggling in his bonds like a fish on a line.
“Don’t be crazy,” he snarled. “I fucking need those.”
“Relax,” I said. “I’ve got no interest in rendering you incapable. There’s no fucking fun in that.”
I ran the tip of the cane up between his ass cheeks, and he roared like a fucking animal as it found its target. I pressed in gently, just enough for the tip to force its way inside and he tightened around it. “Yes,” I smiled. “Fuck, I want to take you.” I wriggled it around, just an inch, and loved the way he huffed and squirmed. “But not today.”
I pulled it out and he wasted no time. He twisted in his chains, and in a heartbeat he’d flipped himself onto his back. His cock stood proud, an impressive veiny shaft, swollen thick and ready to fucking go.
There was even less slack in the handcuffs than he’d had previously, and his wrists were crossed tight. I didn’t have long, not before he’d start cramping up. Time to make the most of it.
“I want to come,” I hissed. “I’m so fucking wet, Andy, it’s not even fucking funny.” I hitched up my skirt and spread my legs, pulling aside my panties so he could see my pussy. I watched his cock twitch, and smiled. “You’re going to make me come so hard.”
I put a knee on the desk alongside him, pulling myself up and over. I shifted myself to face his feet, straddling his head with my thighs and lowering my pussy onto his face. I pulled the fabric of my panties to the side. “Lick me,” I said. “Now.”
He growled as his mouth opened, and his tongue was straight on target, warm and wet and perfectly fucking skilled. I braced myself, my palms on his thighs as I ground my sopping cunt onto him. “Yes!” I moaned. “Fucking hell, yes!” I wriggled and jerked, squirming as he sucked my throbbing clit between his lips, and his cock was too inviting, too fucking tempting to ignore.
I took him in my mouth, and he was already dripping. He bucked up at me, and I took it, I took him as deep as he would go, moaning around his length as he drove me close to orgasm. I sucked him until I was out of air, then took him in hand instead. I wasn’t gentle, and I didn’t care to be, gripping tight and jerking him with brutal strokes. Still he bucked, still he wanted it.
“Fuck,” I groaned pressing onto his face. “I’m going to fucking come, and you’d better fucking come with me.”
He bucked harder and I ground my sopping pussy faster, and the world became a blur of rage and pain and dirty fucking sex. I crested, and it was so fucking intense that I saw stars. My body twitched and juddered, legs trembling as I exploded. One final buck and he was gone too. Hard, thick jets of cum splattered my tits and his perfect abs, and his thighs were shaking, breath ragged and hot against my fluttering clit.
I dismounted without grace, backing away until I clattered into my own desk. I caught my breath with my eyes on his, and slowly the world came back. I dug out the keys from the case and set him free. He shot to his feet like a bullet, rubbing sore wrists and making a big old deal of it.
He tried to look back over his shoulder, twisting to see the damage. “I’m not going to be able to sit down for a fucking week, you crazy bitch.”
“Good,” I said. “Might have taught you a lesson.”
“Don’t count on it,” he said, but this time there was no edge to it, no spite. The tension had cracked and dissipated, leaving just us and a club to run. He brushed past me, standing close as he slipped back into his shirt. He grimaced as he pulled up his boxers, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the expletives as he pulled his trousers up after them.
He recovered his composure as he fixed his tie, then shot me the same old Andy Morgan scowl. “What now? Am I going to have to walk you through that bast
ard marketing plan?”
I smiled, knowing the perfect answer to his question.
“No,” I said. “You’re going to work the bastard bar.”
***
Faye
I filled in my card details and pressed confirm on my online order. One sweet parcel winging its way in my direction. I smiled to myself. My week was sure going to go out with a bang. I wasn’t sure which excited me more, my own deviant plans for the weekend, or the promise of retribution to follow. All dependent on the will of the coin, of course.
I’d heard not a peep from Andy since he disappeared off to the bar. It could only be a good sign.
With a few minutes to closing I shut down my laptop, invoices processed and filed, and a fresh doorman job advert posted online. Taking the reins felt mighty fine, in all aspects.
The playrooms were pretty quiet as I made my way past, a blonde-haired Missy and the artist boyfriend they called Savage just about wrapping up a bondage session. A couple of regulars chatted innocuously in one of the booths, and Mistress Raven and her sweet submissive Cara were propped up by the bar.
My stomach fluttered as I caught sight of him. He was actually smiling, whipping up a couple of Screaming Orgasms like he’d been doing them his whole life. I smiled as I arrived, taking a seat next to Raven.
“Well, I never thought we’d be having Mr Head Honcho serve our orgasms this evening,” she cackled. “What did you do to him, Faye? What’s your dirty secret?”
Andy’s eyes met mine for just a second, a dark sizzle of knowing passing silently between us.
“As if I could get him to do anything,” I grinned. “He’s far too much of a control freak to take orders from the likes of me.”
He smiled a sly smile. “I’ve fixed you many a Screaming Orgasm in my time, Raven,” he said. “It’s just been awhile.”
She took the glass from his hand. “Cheers,” she said. “Here’s to many more.”
Cara and Raven didn’t dawdle, they necked their drinks in one as soon as Missy and Savage appeared, and the four of them trooped out like a cosy little foursome. Topaz presented me with her truth or dare cards as we waited for the last of the regulars to leave. They were sweet. Sweet and hot. Like her.