Own Me, My Love

by Reese Gabriel

  A slash to her breasts, and another across her pussy in rapid succession. Two more to her thighs and then back to her belly. She was twitching all over, still orgasming in the middle of her punishment. The groans were deep and complex ... she scarce recognized her own voice.

  And Jake was loving every second. Poetry in motion. No hypocrisy, no lies. Just a man doing what he wanted to a woman's body. Probably what every man would want to do if he looked deep enough in his heart.

  "Turn over,” he ordered when he'd grown tire of raining fire. “On all fours. Cheek to the floor."

  Marlene felt like pure sex, a living pagan sacrifice as she rolled onto her belly, lifting herself up on her hands and knees. Her pussy thrummed, tattooing a rhythm of imminent yielding. Was this it? Was he going to enter and take her?

  The carpet burned at her kneecaps and also her elbows as she positioned herself, face down. The symbolism was clear. Marlene was being humbled. Hers was the inferior position. If he entered her now, it would be a clear act of possession, of putting her in her place.

  "Should I whip your ass a while?” He considered, touching her proffered cheek with the end of the belt.

  "Do what you want,” she pushed her behind up into the air. “I'm yours."

  Jake lashed her, the hardest blow yet. “I broke a rule with you, you know. Fuck it. I broke around a dozen. Sex on the first date. Scening without vanilla sex first. And now this—talking about a scene in the middle of it. I haven't turned you off totally, though. You're still here."

  "I came close,” she admitted. “Especially after the stunt you pulled with those guys."

  Jake was pulling off his clothes. “Had to be done, precious. You're not some kid with stars in your eyes. How the hell else was I gonna wow you?"

  "Maybe I don't need to be wowed,” she declared, her nipples vibrating on the rug as she spoke. “Maybe I just wanted a little fun. Alone with you."

  "Yea, well it takes a lot to get me hard these days. I'm a sated old fucker.” Jake was kneeling behind her, guiding his cock home.

  Damn, it did feel like she was welcoming him back, too, though they'd never even laid eyes on each other before now. “Watch your tongue. You're only three years older than me."

  "You're not old, Marlene. You're blossoming. You're in your prime.” He exhaled, deep and satisfied as his cock pushed into her waiting, warm, wet hole. “Oh, baby, you don't know how long I've been dreaming about this."

  "Not for as long as I have."

  Jake pulled himself out and then rammed himself hard. Marlene lifted her head off the floor, releasing a guttural cry.

  "Fuck me,” she urged. “Fuck me, baby."

  Jake moved like lightning. “Now,” he hissed, a dozen split second thrusts later. “Give it to me ... come for me."

  Marlene complied, unleashing the tide within, the buildup of all that had transpired here between them, and before that over the course of all their conversations and interactions. Her body surged with the heat, a naked electric wire. He was riding her, holding her fast, steering her upward on the currents of lust.

  The clouds exploded around them. They were far above the earth, far removed from all Marlene's pain. For a moment at least, she was free. “Oh Jake,” she called his name, as much to remember this moment as to share her appreciation. “It's so..."

  "Nnn ... Yes,” he grunted, finishing the sentence in the only way he could.

  The coupling continued, his hands on her hips, fingers splayed, her spine curved in eager response.

  They released their energies to each other, a primal linking, far beyond their normal identities. This was the payoff they'd both wanted, the spark they'd seen initially in each other's eyes and which they'd cultivated all along.

  When the explosions died and Jake had released his last burst, they fell together onto the carpet, a tangle of arms and legs. They kissed at each other softly, in eager appreciation. Marlene did not want it to end. She did not want to go back to her job. Or to her life.

  "Can't we stay here?” She asked. “The rest of the night—a few days, even?"

  Jake sat up. “Sorry, kiddo. I have a meeting at five. Got a ten million dollar development deal riding on it."

  Marlene threw herself into his arms. “Tell me I'll see you again."

  "You sure that's a good idea? I play a little bit rough..."

  "I'll take anything you throw at me,” she challenged.

  "Right now, all I can offer is fifty percent interest in a shower. You up for it?"

  "Yea,” she grinned, feeling years younger. “You bet your cute ass I am."

  "Last one in gets to get friendly with the soap,” he teased.

  He was off and she was following, grabbing his arm to slow him down and generally laughing and shrieking like a teenager.

  It almost felt like puppy love. But it couldn't be. Not after all these years and certainly not in a situation like this.

  Could it?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marlene sat at her desk, glaring at the computer screen. She'd just gotten off the phone with her daughter, who in true Jenny fashion, had just announced that she was happy now. Involved with a man who intended to take care of her, one whom she loved with all her heart. Marlene would love him, too, and, by the way, he was in the BDSM lifestyle, a Master.

  "Daddy is very happy for me,” had said Jenny.

  And why wouldn't Robert be happy? Anything that minimized his responsibility in the world was fine with him. If Jenny was going to leave him alone, not ask for money, than he was in heaven. She could co-habitate with the devil himself as far as the man was concerned. Certainly he'd lain with enough demonesses himself.

  "I'd like you to meet him, mom."

  Mom. Marlene hadn't been called that since the third grade.

  Her cell chimed again, raising her from her brooding reverie. It was Jake. She was surprised at how familiar his calls were getting to be. In the two weeks since their initial meeting, she'd come to rely on him for a hell of a lot. And not just sex.

  "What's up, kitten?"

  Marlene felt the tension drain at the sound of his sexy voice. She loved it when he called her that. It made her feel playful, safe, secure. “The usual bedlam,” she quipped. “How about you?"

  "I'm fine. But you're not. I can tell it in your voice. You're hiding something."

  She licked her lips. It got to her the way he did that—almost like he could read her mind. And he actually seemed to give a shit, too. “I don't want to bother you, Jake. It's my family stuff."

  Jake's voice turned lovingly gruff. “I don't recall giving you an option, do you?"

  Her breathing quickened, just a little. “No ... Sir."

  The dominance and submission in their relationship was understated and subtle, but it was very real. She didn't need to call him Sir all the time, just every now and then. It was a good thing, too, because the word made her so wet and horny ... there'd be no thinking clearly again until he took her.

  Marlene outlined the situation for him as best she could, along with her own misgivings. “There's no way I can meet him,” she concluded. “It would just be too much for me."

  "On what basis do you say that?"

  "Jenny and I have a ... history. We don't see eye to eye, especially where males are concerned."

  "All the more reason to meet him, I say. Bury the hatchet, put all the cards on the table. That way, if she's doing this must to get a rise out of you, you can take the wind out of her sails."

  "I didn't realize you were a psychologist on the side,” Marlene teased.

  "Actually the only one I've got figured out is you; so you better watch yourself."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "Something like that..."

  "Oh, I think maybe you should be careful now. My boyfriend's pretty tough, you know."

  "Really? And what about your husband?"

  "He's indifferent, and a wimp besides."

  Jake laughed. “Okay, babe, here's the deal. I'm sendin
g a package up for you, I'd like you to sign for it personally."

  She raised a brow. “A package? How intriguing."

  "I thought you'd enjoy a little surprise. Consider it something for the woman who's tried everything. So long for now, sweetheart."

  Marlene had an hour to think about his words. Not to mention whatever surprise he might be cooking up. Her pussy was dancing with anticipation. She could barely concentrate on her work. At last, she received word of a special delivery, return receipt requested.

  "Send him right in,” Marlene told her secretary.

  "Actually, it's a her,” came the reply.

  Indeed it was.

  "Are you Marlene Randall?” Asked the shapely young woman in the blue uniform.

  Marlene nodded, accepting the pad on which to sign.

  "Here you are,” the chestnut haired delivery woman smiled, turning over a small package, roughly three inches square. “I am supposed to wait until you open it."

  Marlene went to her desk for the letter opener. It was silver, heavily weighted in the jewel-inlaid handle. She cut the tape on all sides, unwrapping the heavy paper. The pretty young woman waited with seemingly endless patience as she finally got to the contents.

  Opening the small box, she found a single piece of paper, folded. The message read as follows.

  "Time to widen your horizons, sweetheart. You are to offer the bearer of this package a generous tip—and I don't mean money."

  Beneath the words appeared Jake's signature and a little caricature of a tongue.

  Oh, god, he wanted her to pleasure the delivery woman.

  But how? Was the woman aware of what was to transpire? Had she been specially selected for the job?

  Marlene cleared her throat. “Do you ... um ... know who sent this package?"

  "No, Ma'am,” she smiled. “I got the job from the dispatcher."

  Fuck.

  "So there's nothing ... special, you're aware of?"

  She cast a puzzled glance. “No, Ma'am, other than the fact that I was told there'd be a tip—which we aren't supposed to get. I don't ask questions, though,” she shrugged.

  Marlene went to her purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Here's your tip. If anyone ever asks ... tell them you enjoyed every minute of it."

  "Every minute of what?"

  "Never mind,” she pushed the woman towards the door. “Just say that. No more, no less."

  Marlene's cell phone rang. It was Jake, asking about the package. And the tip. She faltered badly.

  "You didn't do it, did you?"

  "No, Sir.” Her voice was small, girlish.

  "Did you want to be punished, Marlene? Is that why you disobeyed?"

  "I ... I don't know."

  "I don't know, either. Go get the bag, maybe we'll find out."

  "Jake, please, I didn't mean to..."

  "Get the bag, Marlene,” he said, firmly in dominant mode. “Or I'll come down there myself and deal with you."

  "Yes, Sir."

  She kept the bag in her bottom drawer. There were small instruments of torture inside, as well as enforced pleasure.

  "Put in the butt plug,” he said. “And the vibrator, both. Get the paddle out, too."

  It was going to be a hard session...

  "You'll do yourself over the desk,” he said.

  "May I lock the door?” She set the leather satchel down on her blotter.

  "No. You lost that privilege."

  Marlene shuddered. This was very real punishment ... with very real dangers associated. If only she weren't hooked—if only she didn't need these feelings so badly.

  If only she didn't care so much for Jake.

  Hiking her skirt, she pulled down her sopping wet panties, useless as they were. Gingerly, she set them on the edge of the desk for safekeeping, just in case he should order her to gag herself with them.

  Plugging in the hands free set so she could keep in communication with Jake, she unclasped the skirt and let it slide to the floor. The cool air wafted at once on her thatched pussy. She felt particularly wicked like this in her blouse and heels, bare-assed.

  Touching her own behind, she shivered at the warm, smooth contact. Soon, very soon, she would be beating that ass on his behalf.

  A second shiver claimed her as she plucked the blue plastic plug from the bag. Instinctively, her anal cavity tightened. Until she'd met Jake, she'd never dreamed of giving a man this kind of access to her body, let alone performing such actions on herself at another's command. Growing up, she'd learned such explorations to be immoral, worthy of hellfire and damnation.

  Jenny and Kyle had grown up with little in the way of her own Catholic guilt. She and Robert had wanted to be more liberal, more advanced. Look where that thinking had gotten them...

  "Tell me, Marlene. Tell me what you're doing."

  Marlene applied the clear gel, cool and slick. “I'm getting ready. I'm going to insert it."

  Using one hand to pull apart her cheeks, she put the end of the plug in place. She was embarrassed at how easily her ass took invasion these days. You'd have thought she'd been born for anal penetration. “It's in,” she told him.

  "That was easy. Too easy. We may need to get you a bigger one."

  Marlene swooned at such a possibility. “Should I put in the vibrator now, Sir?"

  "Yes,” he confirmed. “At high speed."

  High speed ... she'd be out of her mind with orgasms. “Did you say...?"

  "High speed, yes. And don't question me again, or it won't go well for you."

  "Yes, Sir."

  The vibrator was small and silver, egg shaped. It was the same one they'd used all along, from the very first time she'd played on camera for him, all the way through to her infamous drive to the motel. She'd used it since, too, wearing sometimes for whole afternoons at his discretion. It would be her job to carry on her normal functions, pretending nothing was happening. The orgasms were her problem.

  Naturally, she loved every minute of it. Jake was letting her live her fantasies. Never had her body felt freer than now, with this secret life of hers. Co-workers marveled at the change in her, the sudden animation, the apparent spring in her step.

  Was she in love? Yes, but not in a way they could understand.

  "I'm just working through the grief,” she told them. Indeed, that was partially true. She was also enjoying Robert's increased absence from the house. And frankly, she was enjoying a respite from Jenny, too, despite her concern for the girl's well being.

  Jake was teaching her something interesting, and not just about BDSM. For the first time in her life, she was being told to put herself first. It was ironic to think of submission as selfish, but in a real way it was. Jake was catering to her, attending to her needs, and even when he put her through difficult paces, he was still paying very, very close attention to her state of mind. All the more so, in fact, because of the intensity of their games.

  Marlene rarely used the vibrator at full speed. Especially during punishment. “My door's unlocked,” she reminded.

  She was crazy for this ... if someone should walk in...

  "So? You get fired—you'll divorce, marry me, never have to work again."

  It was true. Jake was rich. A lot more so than she'd realized. Not that it mattered. She was in too deep to care about such things.

  Her clit swelled instantly at the touch of the egg. Shifting her thighs, legs spread, she moved it into place. All that remained now was to take out the paddle. It was wooden, covered in leather. The shape was roughly that of a ping pong paddle. Marlene loved the feel of it on her skin, sensuous, decadent. She touched it to her face, imagining the explosions to follow.

  "Are you ready?” Jake inquired.

  "Almost.” She still had to bend over the desk, so her ass was sticking out and up. She'd become adroit at swinging the device with her own hands. She could hit herself fairly hard, almost as hard as he hit her himself, though she was sure he was capable of exerting far more force if he so
desired.

  "You'll take twenty strokes, love. Let's count them out loud."

  At least I won't be gagging on my own panties, she thought.

  Bracing herself, Marlene began her punishment. “One."

  Instant warmth, bracing, with a slight twinge of discomfort.

  "Two.” Now she felt definite heat, peaking along the nerve endings nearest the surface of her skin.

  "Three,” she continued.

  "Do it harder. You're not doing it hard enough?"

  How the fuck did he know?

  "Four,” she spat.

  Fucking vibrator; having its way with her, turning her insides to mincemeat. The heat of the paddling only added to the overall effect, creating a wicked mix of pain and pleasure.

  "You don't sound happy,” he mused.

  "Come on over here and I'll show you just how happy I am."

  Jake laughed. It was like this between them—they never quite stayed in Master and slave characters.

  "No more back talking, or your sentence will be doubled."

  "Five,” she conceded. “And six."

  Her ass was burning, a lava-like eruption that spread throughout her body. She pushed her breasts against the blotter, feeling the swell of her nipples. The first orgasm was coming, but she knew there would be more. “Oh, Jake,” she sighed.

  "You're climaxing..."

  "Yes, Jake."

  "Baby,” he rasped. “Marlene ... I'm coming, too..."

  "Seven,” she grimaced. “Eight. Nine ... and ten!"

  He was moaning out through the receiver. She'd given him exactly what he needed, and what she needed as well. Her pussy clenched feverishly as she hung on his every word. Dropping the paddle, she slid to the floor, her back against the desk. Her hot, punished ass on the rug, her pussy gaping and ready for the intervention of her fingers, waiting to add to the work of the vibrator.

  Groaning, she rocked her hips, back and forth, eyes clenched tight. She was with him. They were together. No space between, no distance separating. “Jake,” she cried. “I love you."

  "Marlene,” he said. “I love you, too."

  It was the first time he'd said it. And hers, too. Everything would be different now. Her whole life. And his.