Once finished with the simple task she froze. What was she to do next? She was naked in front of a stranger. A gorgeous Dom who planned to punish her. Would he be naked as well? What would he do to her now? Fuck her? Beat her? Tie her up and leave her? Offer her body to others in the club? The possibilities she’d read about in her research were endless. Each situation she thought of grew more horrible than the last until she began to tremble with fear.
“Come here, little mouse. We’ll get your punishment out of the way before we talk.”
“May I ask my questions then?”
“Yes. We’ll exchange questions and answers. For every question of mine that you answer truthfully you will be allowed to ask one.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
She winced when she realized what she had said. Why had she thanked him? It seemed only fair that he should answer her questions as well as ask his own. Didn’t it?
He had taken off his vest, but the soft leather pants remained on. The front bulged with his erection. He looked large behind the brown hide. When he sat in the straight back chair and held out his hand, she found she could not move.
“Breathe, little mouse. Look at me.”
Taking a breath, she did as he dictated.
“Now walk to me.”
Following his directions seemed so easy. In a few seconds, she found herself right beside him, still caught in his glowing eyes. She saw pleasure and approval flash in their green depths. That expression made her want to do whatever she could to keep him happy.
“Good girl. Now, can you lay yourself across my lap and accept your punishment? Or do I need to tie you down before I spank you?”
Whitney hesitated. She was guilty of trespassing and should be punished. If he wanted to spank her, she would let him. It was a hell of a way to get a story, but reporters did whatever necessary, didn’t they?
She stepped up close to his side but didn’t know how to proceed. “How do I?” she asked with a wave of her hand.
She squeaked when he grabbed her hand and pulled her off balance. She landed hard across his muscular thighs with her head down and ass up. He took a moment to adjust her to his liking, then wrapped his left arm across her back to hold her in place.
“Do you understand why you are being punished?”
“I snuck into the club without permission.”
She jumped and hissed when his hand came down hard on her right cheek. The pain was sharp, hard, and hot.
“Why did you come into my club without permission?” The hand came down on her left cheek.
She tried to think of an answer that was close enough to the truth to satisfy him without telling him the actual truth.
“I was curious about BDSM. I wanted to see the club, but they wouldn’t let me in the front gate.”
Another stroke. “This is a private club for members only. You are not a member,” he growled.
After that, the strikes came fast and hard on alternating sides. She tried to breathe through the pain, tried not to cry as they continued, but couldn’t help herself. Tears ran down her face by the fourth slap, and by the sixth she began crying in earnest. After that she lost count.
It took a moment for her to realize when he stopped. Her ass felt on fire, and she wondered how long it would be before she would be able to sit down again without remembering. She jumped when he began to caress her ass with something cool and creamy.
“Shhh, little mouse. This will ease the pain,” he explained, holding her in place when she tried to move away.
Knowing the punishment was over, she relaxed. A strange feeling of freedom washed over her along with a lust she had never felt before. No one had ever spanked her, and she had to admit that though it hurt like hell, the punishment and Sir’s domination also turned her on. Big time. Her thighs were wet with her juices, and her nipples were hard enough to poke holes through concrete.
“Looks like someone enjoyed her spanking,” Sir murmured as he trailed fingers between her legs and through her cream. “Are you horny, little mouse? Do you want to come?”
“Yes, Sir,” Whitney whispered, her face burning almost as much as her ass did.
Her breath caught when two fingers pressed into her channel. Then she sighed. It felt good to have someone else play with her pussy. When another finger brushed against her clit, her hips shifted, asking for more.
The movement earned her a sharp smack to her still stinging ass. “Hold still. You will not come until I give you permission. Do you understand?”
Whitney had to swallow back a moan before she answered, “Yes, Sir.”
After that, she concentrated on trying not to move while he played. He filled her with two and then three long, thick fingers. He slid them in and out while his thumb circled and flicked at her pleasure button. A heartbeat before she came, he pulled his fingers free and his attention shifted to her back hole.
“Such a pretty little pucker. Has anyone ever taken you there?” he asked as one finger circled round and round her back hole.
Her orgasm fizzled as she tensed. “No man ever has,” she said without elaborating. If he wanted more, he could ask for it. As it was, she was having a hard time thinking and forming words.
“No man, eh? How about toys? Have you played here before?” His finger stopped circling, and the tip pressed against the center of the star.
Her muscles tightened against the threatened intrusion. “I used a butt plug once, but I didn’t leave it in long. It felt strange.”
Instead of pushing into her, his hand slid back to her clit. Sliding two fingers back into her channel, he quickly built her lust back up. She fought her approaching orgasm with everything in her. Then he pinched her clit and held tight.
“Come now, little mouse,” he ordered in his steel-laced voice.
In the next moment, an orgasm more powerful than anything she ever felt before overwhelmed her. She screamed as white-hot flashes shot from pelvis to fingers and toes and the top of her head and beyond in pulsating waves. It rippled through her again and again. Her muscles contracted and convulsed with the pleasure.
His fingers continued playing, sending her from one orgasm to the next. When she begged for him to stop, he finally allowed her to ride the last wave to completion. Like the punishment, she lost herself in the orgasm.
Once she became aware of her surroundings again, she marveled that she was no longer lying across Sir’s lap. Instead, she sat on his lap, leaning against his broad chest, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. He’d wrapped a soft yellow blanket around her and was holding her close. When had he done all this?
“How?”
“Shhh, sweet mouse. Rest.”
She relaxed with her cheek against his chest and her forehead brushing his chin. Closing her eyes, she smiled as contentment welled in her. The hand that had punished her so harshly now rubbed up and down her spine, soothing her. The paddling she could have lived without, but the multiple orgasms and this cuddling were things she could easily grow addicted to.
Her thoughts drifted as she enjoyed the physical and emotional release this strange interlude had given her. Then her mind kicked into gear and her reason for being in the club reasserted itself. She needed answers, needed to uncover the truth. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs with his spicy, masculine scent. With a sigh, she relaxed again. Questions could wait a few more minutes.
* * * *
Taurus could not help smiling as she relaxed fully into his embrace. She continued trembling, but she was not fighting for her freedom. Did she feel the connection, too?
She was perfect. Untried, yet curious and accepting of his attentions, she’d become turned on by both punishment and pleasure. She accepted the spanking easily enough, even acknowledging that she had been in the wrong. Twenty-five strokes were a lot for a first punishment, but he hoped it would prove an effective deterrent.
He was surprised to find the discipline had also turned her on. After a few minutes of his fingers playing with her p
ussy, she’d been ready to explode. He could feel the truthfulness of her answers as he questioned her about experiences and was pleased that he would be the first to breach her ass.
She felt warm and cuddly in his arms. Though his body was hungry and in need of release, he would not fuck her tonight. He lived by a set of stringent protocols developed to keep them both safe. Otherwise, he would be inclined to carry her upstairs right now and spend the rest of the month taking her in every way he could think of, kinky or not. But before that happened, she needed to trust him. She also needed to be tested for disease, and more importantly, she needed to think.
As her trembling slowed, his heart told his head that she was the woman he had been looking for since puberty. Whitney Elliott was the other half of his soul. But how could he tell her they were meant to be together without scaring her to death?
When she shifted on his lap, snuggling deeper into his embrace, his cock protested. He needed to do something before it exploded in frustration.
Chapter 4
“Does the club really sell sex slaves?” Whitney whispered once she stopped floating in daydreams about how good it would feel to have Sir fucking her. His cock felt long and thick and quite interested as it pressed into her hip. She couldn’t wait to see it.
Sir remained silent for so long she wondered if he would answer. He told her she could ask questions. She only hoped he decided to answer this one.
“So, you’re ready to trade information, eh?” he asked, sounding amused.
Whitney shrugged in response. She didn’t want to answer his questions, but if it would help her story she would open up to him. It wasn’t like she would see him again.
“Not normally. We did recently have a sub and slave auction to raise money for charity. How many lovers have you had?”
The hand that ran up and down her back rose even higher to massage the back of her scalp, soothing her, distracting her. She answered without thinking or censoring herself first.
“Four. What charity received the benefit of your sex auction?”
“The battered women’s shelter needed some repairs to their building. We were able to make a sizeable contribution. Look at me.”
His hand pulled her head back, angling it until she looked into his face. She met his probing green gaze for two racing heartbeats before dropping her eyes to look at his lips. Full, coral lips.
“Who destroyed your self-esteem? Who made you feel that you aren’t good enough?”
Shocked at his question, she looked up again. Then she found herself trapped in Sir’s green gaze. Heat and hunger flashed at her, surrounded her and drew her in.
Surely all that emotion couldn’t be for her. She was a nobody floundering her way through life, living with her mother while struggling to start a career in a dying industry. She had nothing to offer this gorgeous man.
She looked over his shoulder before asking, “What kind of question is that?”
He didn’t answer. After a few seconds, she looked to find one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. His lips were turned up in a smile that was patient, confident, and comforting. He would not answer her question until she answered his last one.
She huffed a breath. Shifting on his lap, she rubbed against his solid erection, hoping to divert his attentions. Then her thoughts turned to sex as his cock twitched and seemed to grow even bigger. What would it be like to play with his hard length?
“Answer my question.” One hand reached between her thighs again to cup her mound and hold her lower body still.
The shock of his warm touch made her confess. “My father never approved of anything I did from the moment I was born. I was supposed to be a boy to carry on the family name and traditions. He died my senior year in high school. Now it’s just Mom and me, but she’s almost as bad. My last boyfriend broke up with me because I wouldn’t make myself into the kind of woman he wanted.”
“What kind of woman was that?”
“I’m not sure. His idea of the perfect woman changed faster than I could keep track. One day he wanted a working woman who could support him, the next Martha Stewart. Before I could figure out how to fold a napkin properly, he wanted a sports nut who was also a sex kitten. I wasn’t able to change that fast, so he dumped me. I think he’s dating four women now because he can’t find what’s he’s looking for in one.”
Blinking back unexpected tears, Whitney hid her face against the side of his neck. When he tried to lift her head to look at her, she shrugged him off.
“Look at me, mouse,” Sir murmured before brushing a kiss over her hair.
Whitney shook her head and pulled the blanket closer around her face.
“If you can’t look directly at me, look at me in the mirror.” His soft voice did not hold the thread of steel it had earlier. Instead, it sounded as if it were laced with compassion.
Whitney looked into the mirror. His gentle voice worked as effectively as the steel in his Master’s order had earlier. What was it in her that needed his approval?
He had yet to use her name, but she thrilled each time he praised the “good little mouse.” Something about his words warmed her insides like rich hot chocolate on a cold day. Even compliments from coworkers on a job well done had never affected her as much as three words from this man who had spanked her and made her cry before giving her the best orgasm of her life.
Then a sobering thought cut through the rebuilding haze of lust. He would kick her to the curb as soon as he found out why she’d really snuck into his club.
She jumped when he pinched high on the inner thigh. “Oww, what was that for?”
“Your attention wandered. Your focus should be on your Dominant and not wandering the universe like yours was. What was that last thought? It made you sad.”
He brushed a kiss on her hair and then used his free hand to ease the blanket from her shoulders so he could lick at the skin where her neck and shoulder met.
“Nothing important. Were the slaves and subs willing to be auctioned off? No one was hurt because of it, were they?” Whitney pulled away at the disturbing thought of someone being auctioned off against their will.
She felt Sir’s sigh before he forced her head back. Tilting it to one side, he kissed her. His tongue swept through her mouth like a hurricane, blowing away all her questions, leaving her unable to think. When he pulled back, the blanket was gone and she was again naked.
“All of the participants in the auction were willing. Esoteria is about consensual play. Even those who are whipped are willing,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. It felt as if he could read her soul. She dropped her eyelashes. “Look at the mirror, into my eyes, and don’t look away.”
The powerful, demanding Master was back, compelling Whitney to gaze across the room at their images. She met his gaze, finding this only marginally easier than looking straight into his face. But she fought the urge to look away.
“You are a very special woman, a brave little mouse to enter my club. I want to get to know you better. No, don’t look away. Look into my eyes,” he ordered when she dropped her gaze. No one ever called her special before. Not even her mother.
He didn’t speak until her eyes met his again. “Even the harshest Master would not tease someone by falsely building up their ego. I will always tell you the truth. Can you trust me on that, to always tell you the truth?”
Whitney mulled his question over before nodding slowly.
“And I will expect the truth from you. Always,” he said, then kissed her hair as one hand cupped her breast. “Know this, pretty mouse. You are worthy of the best life has to offer, including someone to love you. No one has the right to make you think less of yourself.”
Since she stared into the reflection of his eyes, she saw he was telling the truth. Something deep inside her heart that had been cracked and broken for so long fused together as she continued staring into the reflection of his glowing green eyes. Between the open, hungry expression on his face and the hard cock pressing agains
t her hip, she knew this man desired her.
Which set off her hunger. To sit in this stranger’s lap and let him bring her to orgasm only added fuel to her sexual fire. She wanted to do something special for him, something to show her appreciation for him, her submission to him. Before she could come up with an idea, he stroked his way up her spine one last time.
“It’s time for you to get dressed.” He helped her stand before turning her toward the bathroom. “Go clean up and put your teddy back on.”
“But what about…” Whitney didn’t know how to ask the question. Instead, she looked at the front of his leathers where his cock remained a large, intimidating bulge.
“Tonight was about punishing your misdeeds, expanding your horizons, and answering your questions. Not about me getting off. Next time we will see if you can please me.”
His words didn’t mollify the intense need in her to give to him. Disobeying his gentle command to dress, Whitney did not turn to the bathroom. Instead, she knelt between his wide-spread thighs.
She reached for the waistband of his leathers, slipping the button through its hole and easing down the zipper before he realized what she was doing. He grabbed her hands as his cock pushed through the opening.
As expected, his cock was beautiful. And large. Long and thick with ropy veins along the surface. The bulbous head was smooth and so dark red it was nearly purple. Pre-cum coated the entire glans with another drop of his essence pushing out of the slit at the tip.
Without a word, Whitney leaned forward. She would no doubt earn punishment for disobeying him, but she needed to give him pleasure like he had given her. She swirled her tongue over the head. His essence tasted exotic, sharp, and spicy.
He tasted like man.
He tasted like sin.
He tasted like sex.
She opened her mouth and took just the head inside. One thing she did know about herself was that she gave good head. At least, that’s what all of her former lovers told her. She wanted to share that expertise with her Master. It was the least she could do.
Caught by the Master Page 3