“What’s wrong?” There was a big question mark on the master’s face.
“You,” she replied without thinking. “You’re what’s wrong. You’re being here is going to make me miserable and confused, and I don’t think …. I know that may not be kosher club rules, but…” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to yell at him or cry.
“But what? Gillian,” he asked kindly.
“But …” she stopped again, not sure what to say.
Putting down the carton of fried rice, Bellamy leaned forward and looked her straight in the eye with as sincere a look as she’d ever seen. “Listen, Brahms, some things I will do for the sake of the membership, like check up on you after corporate board meetings. Some things I will do because I want to keep you on your toes, make sure you keep your agreements. That would be like punishing you for the hell of it, or coming on like a cold blast of winter when you least expect it. Public places are always nice for that. You get a whole lot softer when you’re enjoying a little humiliation.” He stopped, turning even more serious for his next statement. “I am your master, the one that brought you into the club. I will treat you as a master because that is a role we both accept, because you deserve it and need it, and because I relish controlling you.” He paused again.
“But some things, Gillian, I will do because I absolutely adore you—I adore the hard-assed attorney you are in court, how you win with smarts that most just marvel at but can’t compete with. I adore the way your body moves, the way you flinch at commands, the way you turn into moldable clay when you’re being teased in the dark, and the way your eyes spark like you’re angry and then turn mellow when you’re getting what you want. I adore the way you cum, the way you moan when you’re being punished, the way you tease me so I can tease right back. I have a blatant infatuation for you, Gillian Brahms. That has not changed since I first saw a video of you making your case to Thaddeus Chamberlain in his office, Kate McPherson’s book in your hands.” He abruptly stopped for a moment as though what he had to say next was difficult. “You are bound by the rules of the club to have sex with me whenever I demand it. I’d rather, however, you make love to me because you want to.”
Gillian stared at him for some moments, letting his words drift in and out of her mind—wishing that she could hear him repeat everything he’d just said, just so she could commit it to memory.
“What you’re saying then, is the way you wooed me wasn’t all just a scheme?”
“That’s right,” he replied.
She wanted to laugh, this was so perfect! What was beating in her heart didn’t have to be denied. He’d answered all her fears so easily, and she didn’t believe she had another worry in the world. “I would like very much to make love to you right now, Mike Bellamy,” she told him. “If that’s all right with you. I’m so horny I can hardly stand myself.”
***
The twilight of the summer evening was gone and they lay in the cool darkness naked, skin to skin for the first time. She lay on top of him, wiggling a satisfied crotch into his groin, his flaccid penis weary from fucking her hard, but then he wasn’t weary at all. He could stare into the depths of her eyes all night.
Gillian had the same feeling. She pulled up on his chest enough so her breasts dangled across his chest-hairs tickling him with her nipples. He ran his hand along her face and their mouths moved together, opening wide. She felt the jolt in her crotch feeling his tongue probe her deep, and thought she could sense his prick jerking just slightly beneath her as though it might rise again with a little more stimulation.
“I want to see you dance in the bar,” he told her, as he reached for a breast to play with.
“You didn’t see me that night?” she asked.
“Only on tape. I’d rather witness your sluttiness in the flesh.”
“I could dance for you right now,” she suggested, her eyes just half-open, pouring lust enough to cover him in an unseen blanket of arousal. His cock jerked slightly again, as she pulled away from him and off the bed.
Gillian went to her closet finding her tallest pair of high-heels—a pair of black patent leather with sexy straps and five inch heels. As she writhed in them before his eyes, he recalled the moves she’d made in the Cat’s Meow. It was different seeing those moves in the flesh—the look of her thighs quivering, her belly swaying, her breasts cupped in her hands as she held them toward her face and licked the surface with her tongue. Her nipples were pert now, a deep purple he would suck again as soon as he had her back in bed with him. But for the moment he let her erotically swaying body arouse him.
With her ass to his face, he gazed at the two plump cheeks by candlelight. Her flesh danced in the shadows, the evidence of damage from a cane and other implements plainly visible, making his growing erection jolt again. Reaching back, she squeezed the well-punished surfaces and he listened to her moan.
“You want more, don’t you?” he said. “More punishment. Another spanking.”
“Hummmm, yes,” she moved for him, neither anxious nor impatient. This could be a long slow seduction because in the end she’d get what she wanted. Satisfaction, a little pain, and curiously, even love. To her amazement, the club and her sweet master, Bellamy, gave it all.
When Gillian turned back she stared in his eyes, smiling playfully as she watched his penis thicken with blood and begin to bob. His balls jiggled lightly and he wasn’t even stroking himself, it was all her doing.
“May I take that in my mouth, sir?” she asked with lowered lids and a cutesy smirk. “Or maybe you’d rather have my cunt again?”
“Your choice, love. But whatever you do you, do it right,” he answered. “Because if you don’t …”
“You’ll punish me?” she finished for him.
“Maybe that’s exactly what you want?” he speculated.
She smacked her ass with her own hand several times, then oozed her way on the bed, over his chest, her crotch sliding to his, her cunt covering his swollen prick.
“Ah, yess,” she purred, “but I’d like you first, if you don’t mind. Then I’ll suck you off, and then you can put it in my ass … you will put in my ass, won’t you?” His cock moved in and out of her in long, solid strokes, her pussy tightening around it, her mind on a pleasurable vacation.
“Be careful, Brahms,” his voice was soft, but the message hit, “remember who’s in control.”
“Ooo, I’ll do my best,” she burrowed her crotch into him deep and felt his dick jump lively, hitting her womb. Gyrating her hips just so, she massaged her clit against him, but was without warning, rolled over, Mike pinning her wrists at her side, his eyes pinning her with a savage gleam.
“What was that you said, Brahms?” he sounded cross.
There was a dark glint in her eyes to match his. “I’ll do my best, sir,” she answered with the appropriate response.
He felt her spasming cunt all around his organ and the shock wave silenced him momentarily. “You’re damn right you’ll do your best,” he finally murmured before he collapsed into her cumming body. He drew his erection in and out of her vagina with a frantic abandon, and another climax surged, moving swiftly until it erupted and consumed them both.
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Masters of the Club Page 16