by Measha Stone
A bit of saliva ran down her chin. She wanted to swipe it away, but he yanked on the belt keeping her steady. Was there anything he didn’t see when he looked at her? It was as though he could read her thoughts before they even fully formed in her mind.
He cupped his hand below her chin, gathering her spit. “There. That’s going to be much better.” He smeared her saliva along his shaft and went back to stroking his cock.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he said, taking a tiny step toward her. His scent wafted to her nostrils; more drool fell from her chin, landing on her naked breasts.
“Such a messy girl,” he chastised but didn’t slow his movements. “No. Don’t look away. You watch. You watch what you can’t have because you lied.”
She snapped her attention back to his actions, willing her body to stop reacting. She’d just had a mind-blowing orgasm; how could she be so wanton and eager to have his tongue and fingers on her again? She’d been horny before, but never had she felt so damn empty as she did watching him pump his thick cock through his own fist.
She wanted it. She wanted his taste, his feel, she wanted to devour him, and she wanted him inside of her.
It hadn’t been a big lie. A tiny fabrication of the truth to protect her pride. Why did he have to retaliate with such cruelty?
She’d rather have a spanking. Couldn’t he just spank her a little instead?
“Oh fuck.” He came forward again, his cock almost touching her fingertips.
The belt pulled tighter.
“Fuck.”
She moved her gaze up to his face, and found him staring down at her. His face flushed, his nostrils flared, and his hair hanging down around his eyes.
“Catch it all, Azalea,” he ground out, jerking her head downward and making her watch him again.
Long, hot spurts of cum shot out of his cock, landing in her palms. He continued to jerk himself, aiming toward her outreached hands. He grunted and pulled the belt tighter, amping the discomfort in her lips up another notch.
But nothing compared to the longing she felt at watching the strings of his cum land on her palms, across her fingers, but none coming close to her mouth.
When he finished, he stroked his clock slow, bringing the last drop of his seed to the tip and wiping it on her fingers.
“Hold that,” he ordered, letting go of the belt and leaning back against the bead catching his breath. The belt loosened, and she could have spit out the leather if she’d dared.
But she didn’t.
She moved her hands to form a deeper cup and held his load between them. Making sure to not let a drop leak out. It was warm, sticky, and she could smell his fragrance.
The desire to lick herself clean overwhelmed her and, for a moment, she wondered if the punishment for her presumptuous behavior would be worth the joy of feeling his cum on her tongue.
“Put your hands together.” He stood and yanked his pants back up, buttoning them.
Her heart sank, but she pressed her palms together.
Peter tightened the belt again and pulled upward. “On your feet, Azalea.”
She managed to stand, still holding her hands in a prayer position. He led her by the belt to the attached washroom where he took the gag out of her mouth and dropped the belt onto the counter. She worked her lips open and closed, getting the sting out of them.
He watched her silently, as though deciding what to do with her next. His cum had cooled in her hands, and the idea of licking them clean no longer aroused her like it had in the thrilling moment of his orgasm.
“Wash up.” He turned the water on in the sink and stood by with his arms folded over his chest, watching her as she rinsed off his cum. “Next time, you’ll lick your hands clean, but not until my cum has dried on your skin.”
She nodded, and reached for a towel.
He took the towel from her and patted her hands until they were dry. She looked up at him, feeling a sense of shame. She’d let him suckle her pussy, she’d come hard, so fucking hard and loud—screaming like a wanton woman in his room, and then she’d let him come on her. And she’d loved it. All of it. Every second, even when he denied her. When he’d punished her for such a small dishonesty. She’d loved it.
“You’re overthinking again.” He smiled gently at her, pushing her hair behind her again. “So much hair.”
“My mother told me my sister kept hers short. I grew mine out so—” She stilled her tongue and swallowed back the words. She’d never said them before.
“So, your mother would maybe see you as different. So, she’d know you weren’t your sister.” Peter filled in the blanks all on his own. He didn’t need her to spell anything out for him; he seemed to know everything.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
He turned her to face the mirror while he moved behind her. Pulling all of her hair into one thick ponytail, he separated the bundle and began braiding it. She watched him in the mirror, the intense concentration displayed on his features.
Although he was focused, he didn’t have the tense look she’d grown accustomed to seeing. He seemed more relaxed, more at peace.
When he reached the end, he held onto it with one hand and reached around her, opening drawers until he found a rubber band. She didn’t tell him that it was going to hurt like hell to take the band off in the morning. Disturbing him would change the atmosphere, and for the first time since she arrived, she felt the tension leaving her body.
“Let’s get you to bed.” He linked his fingers through hers and tugged her along.
Once she was beneath the covers, he leaned over her, staring into her eyes.
“I have a few things to see to and then I’ll be up. I want you to sleep, Azalea. No snooping around or leaving the bedroom, okay?”
“I’ll stay here,” she promised with a yawn.
He ran a finger across her brow. “You look so sweet after an orgasm. Maybe I should keep you in this state all the time.”
His lips pressed against hers, firmly.
“Good night, Peter,” she mumbled when he stood back to full height. Rolling over to her side, her back facing him, she squeezed her eyes shut and brought her knees up to her chest.
Another ache formed. Not quite loneliness. She had grown adept at fighting that away over the years, but of hope. Hope that when it was all over, when her mother returned and he allowed her freedom, that she would be able to piece together a life that included everything he’d given her and more.
Whatever that was.
Chapter 12
Peter walked into the Annex, his belly full of eggs and sausage, and his mind fully fixated on the beautiful blond he’d shared his breakfast with.
He hadn’t expected her to wake up so early, but when he’d come out of the shower, she was sitting in the bed with the covers pulled up to her chin.
After a short discussion on why she needed actual clothes to walk around in, he produced a pair of jeans and a sweater. He’d had Tommy go shopping with one of the girls from the Annex to pick out some items for Azalea. And it had been successful. She had thanked him for the clothes and jumped right into them.
He had helped her unbraid her long hair but let her handle the brushing of it. He’d simply leaned against the doorjamb and watched her.
But, now, he had to get to work. Dealing with Aubree couldn’t be put off any longer. He hadn’t brought it up during breakfast, and Azalea seemed to have forgotten. Not that anything she said would have changed his course of action, but he didn’t want to argue with her and have to punish her as well.
He hadn’t intended to punish her at all the previous night, but that little white lie had popped out of her mouth so freely, he couldn’t let it slide. Jerking off into her hands instead of plowing into that beautiful mouth of hers had been punishment for him as much as her. He had seen the desire in her eyes. She had wanted to suck him, and lick him, and he’d used the image of her doing so along with his thick belt tied around her mouth to find his release quickly.
> He still needed to talk with her about honesty, but it wasn’t the punishment she probably thought was coming. Discipline and punishment weren’t always the same thing. She needed to learn the rules, and he found most submissive women learned them best bent over with a paddle in his hand.
Adjusting his hard cock in his slacks, he stopped outside the door to his office. He had been told Aubree was inside waiting for him, and he’d let her stew long enough. Hell, he probably owed her an apology for not completing the punishment in a timely fashion. He had, after all, caused her to lose an extra shift.
“Peter.” Tommy joined him at the door. “Azalea is looking for you.”
Peter looked past him, down the hall leading to the main house.
“I just left her. She’s supposed to be in Ash’s office.” He’d given her the code to his laptop so she could get online. She didn’t have any social media accounts from what his men had found, but she did play around with graphic design.
“Well, she’s not. She’s at the door.” Tommy jerked a thumb at the door separating the Annex from the main house.
He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Aubree shouldn’t have to keep waiting.
“Tell her I’ll be with her in an hour and to go back to the office like I told her,” he said grabbing the door handle to the office.
“I did tell her that,” Tommy argued. “She’s insisting.”
Peter narrowed his gaze. “Are you telling me you can’t get that slip of a woman to go back to the damn office?” She was beautiful, but she wasn’t a goddamn witch. What sort of spell did that woman cast over his men?
“Are you telling me I can use the same force I would with any of the other girls who didn’t listen?” Tommy rolled his shoulders back, straightening his spine. He had a point. If Peter wouldn’t let him use the authority he had, why the hell would Azalea listen to him?
Peter exhaled. “Fuck no.” No one was touching her but him. “Stay here,” he ordered, and marched off to deal with Azalea.
He flung the door open and found her wringing her hands. “Do you ever stay where you are put? You were supposed to wait in the office,” he said.
She moved up to her toes, trying to look past him down the hall.
“You didn’t do it already, did you?” she asked.
“Do what? Stop fidgeting.” He placed his hand over hers and drew her attention to him.
“Punish that girl?”
A soft blush blossomed on her cheeks, and even though she’d calmed her movements, she continued to try and see past him.
Was she jealous?
“No. I was about to speak with her,” he said.
“You said you’d give me a tour of the estate.” She looked at him. Like she’d just found a way to keep him from going through with it.
Making Aubree wait any longer would be cruel. Though he would rather be giving Azalea the tour he had promised her.
“You said you’d stay in the office. I told you I’d come for you when I was finished. Now go back to the office,” he said, not missing that he sounded more like a father figure than the man who possessed her every fiber. The woman was twisting him from the inside, making him coddle when he should be disciplining.
She didn’t respond. Moving back up to her toes, she looked around him, trying to see past him into the Annex. He knew she had a curiosity about her, and he couldn’t blame her, given the way she seemed to have been raised, but he’d already given his order. He’d told her to wait for him. He’d told her to go back, and still she defied him.
“Okay, have it your way.” He grabbed hold of her elbow and led her into the Annex, not bothering to lock the door behind him as she was the person in the house he’d been trying to keep out.
Tommy had a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty in his expression when he noticed his boss dragging Azalea toward the room.
“Don’t fucking stand there. Open the damn door,” Peter lashed out at him. Tommy jolted into motion, pulling the door open for him.
Azalea tried to pull away.
“Peter! No. I don’t want to watch!” She tried to push his hand off her arm.
Once in the room, Peter, completely ignoring Aubree standing in the center, spun Azalea to face him. The door had shut behind him, and Tommy stood on the other side. If she decided to bolt, he’d catch her in no time at all.
“You aren’t here to watch,” he declared. She could think whatever she wanted to about that. He had a damn job to do, and he was going to do it and get it over with.
“Now.” He took a deep breath and turned to Aubree. “I seem to have two girls who don’t know how to follow rules or directions. So.” He took a few steps away from Azalea, needing space so as not to touch her. He felt the fear start to rise in her and, with it, a temptation to soothe her.
“So. In the interest of time, I’ll be dealing with you both at the same time.”
Aubree held any objection she may have had. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in this room with another woman. There was no intimacy between Peter and any of the girls of the Annex. Although he did prefer to deal with them one on one when they earned a house punishment, he didn’t feel it was always necessary or to be expected.
“You can’t,” Azalea said, eyes wide and hands wringing again.
“I don’t think now would be a good time to tell me what I can and can’t do,” he shot at her. “Aubree. Are you free to come and go as you wish?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered softly, submissively with her eyes cast down at the floor. Maybe Azalea would learn a thing or two during the session.
“The only stipulation is what?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Azalea still fidgeted off to the side, but he kept his focus on Aubree.
“We need to sign in and out so the house knows where we are.”
“And why do we do this?” He’d gone through this script so many damn times, he felt more like a damn recording than a disciplinarian.
“For our safety, sir.” Aubree’s response came as automatically as his questions.
“Where did you go that night?” he asked.
She glanced up at him but lowered her gaze when he raised his eyebrows.
“I went out with some friends. To a bar on the north side,” her answer came softly. He didn’t usually probe into the social activity of the girls. They weren’t slaves, after all, and were entitled to their privacy.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked. From the corner of his vision, he could make out Azalea staring at Aubree.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You aren’t going to have a good time right now, though, are you?” he asked moving toward the large leather couch pushed up against the far wall of the office.
“No, sir.” She kept her eyes down, but Azalea freely watched him move about the office. So much for her taking a cue from Aubree.
“Please explain to Azalea what happens when the rules are disobeyed.” He pointed at Azalea, whose face had reddened nicely since he started talking.
“Uh.” Aubree sounded hesitant. He had strayed from the usual script of these discipline sessions.
“Go on,” Peter prompted as he pushed the couch away from the wall and several feet toward the middle of the room.
“When we break a rule, we are given a spanking or are taken off duty.” She paused. “Which means we can’t earn any money.”
“They ground you from income?” Azalea asked with a hushed whisper.
Aubree let out a soft giggle. “I suppose so. It’s not usually very long, but this time—” she stopped talking and looked over at Peter. He caught her short glare but didn’t rebuke her for it. She wasn’t wrong.
“Azalea, tell Aubree what happens to naughty little submissive girls who don’t stay where they’re put.” Happy with his placement of the couch, he put his hands on his hips and watched Azalea’s eyes widen and her mouth drop open.
Aubree wouldn’t get much out of the session other than paying her consequence and getting
back on the roster for work at the clubs or taking clients at the Annex. But Azalea had some learning to do.
“Now, Azalea,” he said with a firmer tone when she seemed to have shut down.
“I suppose you spank them, too.” She thrust that damn chin of hers out again.
Peter couldn’t help but grin, and he noticed the slight upturn of Aubree’s lips as well.
“You suppose correctly,” he deadpanned. “Both of you here and bend over the back of the couch.” He patted the leather padding.
Aubree didn’t argue, simply walked over and did as instructed. She wasn’t a short woman by any means, so she could still keep her feet flat on the floor while draped over the back. She’d worn a skirt for her meeting with him, which he appreciated. Made his job a bit easier.
“Azalea. Now. Or we can discuss this again upstairs when we are finished here.” As it was, she’d already taken away the playful spanking he’d wanted to give her after he was finished with Aubree. He wouldn’t play with her after he punished her, at least not until a few hours passed. No sense in mixing business with pleasure and ruining all the work the punishment had done.
As though her feet were lodged in cement blocks, Azalea trudged to the couch. She gave him another glare when she pressed her legs against the leather but didn’t try to talk him out of it. With as much grace as she could, she climbed into position beside Aubree. Being much shorter than Aubree, she had to stand on tiptoe. But her ass wasn’t as high as he wanted it, so he’d have to fix that.
First, he went to Aubree and flipped her skirt up her back. No panties. Good girl. Then he moved over to Azalea, reached in front of her to undo her jeans, and tugged them down. She grunted when he pulled them to her knees and a hand flew back when her ass was completely exposed.
“None of that.” He smacked her hand and pushed it away from his target. Gripping her hips, he manhandled her until her ass was the same height as Aubree’s, making her feet dangle in the air.
He could imagine the fury in her eyes at being put in such a position, but she had no one to blame but herself.