by Liz Crowe
My hands wrap around the back of his neck and my hoarse voice croaks out, “I belong to you, Sir. I’m yours. Fuck me. Fuck me twenty-four hours a day. Fuck me until I can’t walk. I want it, Jaz. I want you buried inside me.”
Nose buried into my neck, he nips me gently, then traces from my collarbone up to my earlobe with his tongue. When he’s sucked my lobe in and released it, he whispers in my ear, “From this day forward, my cock is the only one you’ll know. Your pussy is the only one I’ll plunder. I won’t let you get away from me. You belong to me.”
“Yes, Sir. I belong to you. Only you.”
“Good.” He kisses me gently and runs a finger down my cheek. “You’re my one and only, Kimmie. We’ve honest-to-god bonded. Tell me it’s real.”
“It’s real, baby. It’s so real.”
“Good. Get some sleep. I’ll fuck you again in the morning before work. You’ll start to need it more and more, and I’ll do my best to supply. This is our life. We work, we eat, and you submit to me. You need it, I supply it. That’s my job. I need it, you submit. That’s your job. And we fall deeper and deeper in love.”
I can barely speak from exhaustion. “Deeper and deeper in love. I love you, Jaz.”
“I love you too, Kimmie.” Those are the last words I hear before I drift off.
*****
I hear him in the bedroom. “Kimmie?”
“In here.” I’m already in the shower, getting ready for the day. The shower door opens, and his face is dark. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“Any bed we’re in together is my bed. You’ll ask permission to get out.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t . . .”
“You’ll learn. You need to read that contract more closely. Move over.” He climbs in with me. “Back to me. Bend over and fold your arms on the bench.” I anchor my forearms on the bench and wait.
Sure enough, in a matter of seconds he forces himself into me and starts to stroke. “Sir? Oh, god, Sir. Oh, god. Sir, please . . .”
“I don’t care when you come. I’ll just keep going until I come. Whenever you want, as many times as you want.”
My body turns loose and I can barely stand, but he doesn’t even slow down, just keeps fucking me and fucking me hard. I slide forward enough that I brace my head on the wall of the shower at the back of the bench and he just keeps going. After what seems like forever, I feel him speed up a little, then slam me hard a half dozen times until he finally rises up on his toes and forces himself up against me, gripping my hips and pulling me back against him. One of his hands slips up my back, wraps around my throat, and pulls me upward, my back to his chest. “Beautiful girl, I love you.”
“I love you too, Sir.”
He kisses the side of my neck. “Good morning. Sore?”
I giggle a little. “Yes, Sir, very sore.”
“Good. What’s your day look like?”
“Um, an appointment at eleven and one at three. Between them, nothing.” Something clicks in my head. “Are you working in town today?”
“Yes, my dear submissive, I am.” Even as his cock softens against me, his fingers tighten on my throat and his other hand reaches around to stroke the softness of my lower belly. At my tiny gasp, he whispers into my ear, “I’ll be there to take you to lunch at twelve fifteen. Skirt, button front blouse with an underbust corset over it, ankle-high books with heels. No panties. Be ready.”
“Unless my client makes me late, I will be, Sir.”
“If your client makes you late, tell them that’s very rude and you have a prior engagement at twelve fifteen.”
“Yes, Sir.” The hand that was on my belly is now tweaking one of my nipples and I groan out. “I will, Sir.”
“Very good. Now, soap up your hands and wash my cock and balls. Thoroughly. You can finish your shower after I’m out.”
I do as he says, and he steps out. Standing there in the steam of the shower, I think about what’s happened since he walked through the door last night with that bag of ribs, and everything in my body feels electrified. It’s done. I’m Jasper Givens’ submissive, and he’s my Dominant.
*****
I make sure I take everything he wants me to wear. When the buzzer sounds at twelve fifteen, I’m trying to tie one of my boots. Hitting the button, I listen to the door buzz and then open. He strolls in looking perfectly edible in a pair of black slacks and a grey oxford cloth button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show off his perfect forearms and hard, wiry wrists. His stainless steel watch glistens in the fluorescent lights of my workspace, and he smiles down at me. “Hey, angel.”
“Hi.” I’m not sure if I should reach for him, but he reaches for me first, drawing me up against him, my face pressed against his hard chest. I can hear his heart beating, and I have an undeniable urge to strip bare and beg him to pound me. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Kiss me, girl,” he orders, and I turn my face up so he can press his lips to mine. In a matter of seconds, we’re locked in a kiss so scorching that the temperature in the room goes up by about eight degrees. When he pulls back, he stares down at me. “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you overnight. You okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Very okay, Sir. You’ve left me with a deliciously painful reminder.”
“Good. Let’s go. We’re meeting someone for lunch.”
“Oh? Who, Sir?”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ll find out soon enough.” I lock the door behind us as we head down the street. Instead of steering me toward the parking lot, he turns and walks down the sidewalk with my hand in his, and I fall into step beside him, grinning like an idiot as we walk along. We chatter about various things, the weather and work and the like, until he stops in front of a little French bistro I’ve passed dozens of times and leads me inside. The hostess seats us and Jaz makes sure that I’m on his left. Guess I’ll eventually find out why.
In a few minutes, I hear a familiar voice say, “I hope we’re not too late. The lot where I usually park was full.”
“Michael! So glad you and your submissive could join us. Robyn, you look lovely.” Jaz presses me out of the booth and we both rise. He kisses Robyn on the cheek after taking Michael’s hand and shaking it heartily.
“Thank you, sir,” she gushes as she turns pink.
“Kimmer, I’m glad to see you looking so well.” Michael reaches for my hand and takes it, then wraps both arms around me and hugs me tight. I wonder if Jaz will say something, but I feel his hand on my lower back as encouragement, and I hug Michael back, then hug Robyn and kiss her cheek. When we’re all finished, we take our seats and Michael orders a bottle of wine.
I’m wondering what this is all about, and I don’t have to wait very long. Once our orders are placed, Jaz says, “Any time you’re ready, Michael.” Now I’m really confused.
For about a minute.
Michael looks directly at me. “Kimberly, pull up your skirt until your bare ass is on the seat of the booth.” I glance over at Jaz, but he nods without a word, so I do as Michael has said. I’m sitting up against the wall of the booth where I can’t be seen from the floor, but it’s still uncomfortable as hell. “Done?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, throw your right leg over Jasper’s left one.” I do as he says, and my lower lips gape open wide, exposing everything between them to the air and making me gasp just slightly. “Done?”
“Yes, sir.”
He looks at Jaz. “To your satisfaction?” Jaz nods. “Kimberly, Jasper will begin to stimulate you. I want you to tell me what he’s doing and how it feels as he does it. Do you understand?”
My eyes fly open wide and I turn to Jaz, sure that my jaw has dropped, but he says, “Do you understand Michael’s instructions, submissive?”
Wide eyes rotating back to Michael, I answer, “I do, Sir.” I direct a stare toward Robyn, hoping she’ll throw me a scrap here, but she just looks down and smiles.
“Very good. Let’s begin. Jasper, I’d like for you
to use your right hand. Index finger and thumb, on the sides of Kimberly’s clit, and stroke it as though you were jacking it off. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Very clearly.” Without even looking at me, Jaz reaches across, finds my nub, and begins to do exactly what Michael described.
I’m growing uncomfortable – very, very uncomfortable. I don’t really understand the exercise here, but I don’t want to fail or question my Dominant, and yet I don’t want to have some kind of screaming orgasm right here in a restaurant which, since we arrived, has started to fill up. People are sitting all around us, and I have to wonder if they can tell what’s going on. As he strokes my clit, Michael asks, “Are you comfortable, sub?”
“No, sir.”
“Why are you uncomfortable, sub?”
“I need to come,” I moan out in a loud whisper.
“You know the rules,” Michael grins. “Tell me how it feels, sub.”
I almost choke. “Like I’m on fire. Like I’m going to pass out.”
“What’s the physical sensation, sub? His fingers on your nub. What does it feel like?”
“Oh, god.” I can’t even think. “Like my bladder’s about to explode.” That makes him chuckle. God knows I’m not laughing.
Jaz makes small talk with Michael, and I feel like the top of my head is going to blow off. My right hand comes down off the table and searches out Jaz’s left hand, lying dormant on my thigh. When I grip his wrist, he leans toward me and whispers, “When I tell you to come, you will, but you’ll be absolutely silent. Do you understand?”
A strangled, “Yes, Sir,” escapes my pursed lips. Oh, god, I’m not sure I can do this. Squirming is forbidden, I’m sure, so I’m trying not to, but my hips have other ideas. As the tension builds deep in my sex, a sweat breaks out on my upper lip, and I steal a glance to see Michael look me dead in the face and smile. They continue to talk and Jaz ramps up his movements, sending my body into a spasm denied until I think I’ll pass out.
Staring at the table and concentrating on keeping myself together, I hear Michael say, “I think it’s time.”
Jaz’s voice drifts into my thoughts. “Sub, look at me.”
I lift my head and my eyes meet those intense brown ones as they burn into me. Without a sound, he mouths out, Come.
My body vibrates and gives a huge shudder. But just as it does, he slows his finger and thumb until they’re almost still, just barely brushing my sensitive flesh, and the climax that engulfs me warms me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. It rolls and meanders through my body, making me feel limber and light, and I’m pretty sure if anyone were to look over at me, they’d find me glowing with pure joy. I desperately want to fold into Jaz’s side and, almost like he’s read my mind, he pulls his left arm from between us and drapes it across my shoulders, pulling me up against him and kissing my forehead as his right hand finally stops moving. He leans back slightly and looks down into my face. “Look up at me, Kimmie.”
My eyelids flutter. All I really want to do at this moment is sleep, but I whisper out, “Yes, Sir?”
“I’m so proud of you. That was excellent. There’s even more of a treat waiting for you, angel.” More than his praise, that promise sends a zing through my body like a violin string being plucked. Our food comes, and I just pick at mine. I know he’s watching me, and he interrupts his conversation with Michael to say, “Baby, you need to eat.”
I shiver a little as I lean toward him and whisper, “I’m trying, Sir, but my arms don’t want to work.”
A low chuckle comes from his chest. “Oh. I see. Well, then, let me feed you, why don’t you?”
“Oh, no, Sir, please, don’t interrupt your meal for me. It’s okay. I’ll manage.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sure. It may take me a little longer, if that’s okay.”
“Take all the time you want. You have an appointment at three, right?”
I’m glad he remembered my client, because I sure as hell didn’t. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir, for remembering.”
“Part of my job. If I render you mindless with sex, I should at least be responsible for getting you back on track, don’t you think?” The peek I sneak at him finds him smirking at me.
“Your call, Sir. But thank you, Sir.”
“You’re quite welcome.” He kisses me on the forehead again. “You’ll get dessert in a few minutes.”
He and Michael go on talking. I manage to get another glimpse of Robyn, and she’s grinning down at the table. Then it hits me: Have they done this with her? I’m betting they have. No wonder she wouldn’t come to my aid. These two have been in cahoots all along, and I’m fighting laughter. I’m caught between thinking I’m probably in big trouble with the both of them and wondering if I’m in for the time of my life. The latter part of that thought has probably already been established. Hanging on for the ride is all I have left to hope for.
I get down almost all of my lunch before I put down my fork and give up. The server comes, cleans up the plates, and asks about dessert. Michael orders for Robyn and himself. Jaz looks at me first, then tells the server, “I think we’ll have the triple chocolate cake and the sawdust pie.” Sawdust pie – my favorite. I learned about it one time when I went to Kentucky, and I’ve loved it ever since, that mixture of chess pie and coconut. I’m wondering which I’ll get when he whispers to me, “We’re going to share. But first, your real dessert. Excuse us for a few minutes, please,” he directs at Michael and Robyn, and Michael nods. Robyn never looks up.
Taking my hand, he draws me out of the booth and pulls me toward the back hallway where the restrooms are. “Stay right here,” he growls, then disappears into the men’s room. In a split second he’s back, and he grabs my hand and drags me into the room and straight into the handicap stall. He points at the toilet. “Climb up.” I manage, with his hand steadying me, to climb onto the toilet seat. “Squat.” Arms braced on my thighs, I wait while he pulls something from his back pocket.
In a flash, he restrains my wrists to my thighs just above my knees. Before I can ask a question or protest, he unzips his fly, pulls out his hardened manhood, rolls on a latex sheath, then lifts me with hands under my thighs and pins me against the bathroom wall inside the stall. “Not a sound, baby girl,” he breathes out in a coarse whisper as he shoves his hardness inside me without warning. Soaked and needy from the orgasm out in the booth, it’s all I can do to keep from crying out as he starts to shove in and out of me, his speed and intensity almost alarming. Over and over, hot in my ear, his breath carries the words, “Mine, Kimmie. You’re mine, Kimmie. Mine. Always mine. Forever mine. All mine. Mine, Kimmie.” I hear the door open a couple of times, a splash in the urinal, a stall door closing and then reopening and a toilet flushing, but it’s all extraneous. I can’t concentrate on anything except the feel of his cock piercing me, hard and insistent, his tempo increasing until he’s frantic and practically hunching me. I’m holding back, sure that’s what he wants, and then, in a split second, he grunts out “Now!” and nips my neck.
My arms go rigid in the restraints, and I think my legs stiffen until they’re sticking straight out behind him. I’m not sure. All I’m really sure of is that he’s pleased with me, the heat of his cum warming me inside even through the condom he’s wearing. Still pinned against the wall, I’m crushed against it by the weight of his body, and he leans back enough to catch my eyes.
I’m shocked to see his eyes moisten and turn red as he whispers to me, “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you right now?”
All I manage to stutter out is, “N-n-n-no, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
A sweet little smile turns up the corners of his lips. “I think that title is past. Say, ‘Thank you, Master.’”
Hot tears fill my own eyes. “Thank you, Master.”
His lips meet mine in a kiss that I hope is never-ending. It’s not one of those frantic, crazy things, just sweet and warm and comforting. And when he draws back this tim
e, he smiles again. “I love you, Kimmie.”
“I love you too, Jaz.”
“Okay. Let’s see if we can get you out of this predicament,” he says with an almost-inaudible chuckle. Leaning me back into his chest, he carries me over to the toilet again and perches me on top of it. “Before I take the restraints off, pee.”
“What?”
“Pee. Right now.”
“In front of you?” I’m sure he can see the horror on my face. Hell, I can’t see it, but I can most certainly feel it.
“Yes. In front of me. Get it over with.” He stands there, facing me, and folds his arms across his chest, determined to wait.
So I try. I really do. But it just doesn’t want to come out, not with him standing there. In a minute or so, he announces, “I can stand here all day.”
“I’m trying, Si . . . Master. Really, I am.” I’ve got my face all screwed up and I’m thinking it’s never going to happen when, finally, I feel a trickle and then a gush as my bladder empties. As soon as it does, he rips the hook and loop on the restraints and removes them, folding them and sticking them back down in his back pocket.
“Good girl. Wipe yourself up and let’s go.” With his help, I climb down from the toilet and clean myself up, only leaving a couple of drips on the floor. When I’m finished, he takes my hand, smiles at me, and opens the stall door.
The man standing at the urinal when we waltz through turns and pretends he doesn’t even see us, and my face goes crimson. Jaz just acts like it’s an everyday occurrence as we leave the restroom and make our way back to the table, stopping outside the door to pour on the hand sanitizer he pulls from his pocket and rub it in. Michael and Robyn are sitting there, desserts placed neatly in front of them, and there’s a look on Robyn’s face that tells me she was treated to her own orgasm while we were gone. Once we’re settled back into the booth, Michael smiles at Jaz. “Everything work out okay?”