by Jenna Byrnes
Tom held her firmly, until her strength was gone. She collapsed back against him, and he chuckled. “So what crime did I supposedly commit, that’s got you so up in arms?”
“Rape and murder,” she whispered.
“Rape and murder?” He laughed out loud. “You give me way more credit than I deserve, Kels. I hate to admit it, but I had trouble killing the frog in biology class. And I haven’t had to resort to rape, yet. Most women seem to like me.”
“You pulled my hair,” she replied petulantly.
“I know I did, and I’m sorry.” He spoke softly against her ear. “I was excited, and out of control. I’ve never felt the way you make me feel, Kelsie. You do something to me I can’t explain. I’ve heard people say they wanted to drown in someone else’s eyes, but I’d never felt it, until I met you. I want to drown in you. But that’s just me. I’m sorry as hell you don’t feel the same way.”
She bit her lip. Confusion surrounded her, and she didn’t know what to believe anymore. His words were smooth as honey, but she knew the most vicious serial killers had been charming and handsome, and smooth talkers.
“Hey, look.” He nodded toward the TV, and leaned them forward so he could punch up the volume on the set.
The mug shot of a dark haired man was on screen, with the caption, ‘Escaped convict recaptured at Denver International Airport’. He was thin with short dark hair, but he bore no resemblance to Tom. He looked fierce and mean. She stared at Tom and gasped.
The TV announcer reported, “Just as the airport is preparing to reopen, the manhunt is over for convicted murdered Thomas Rothschild. Rothschild was apprehended earlier tonight when a security guard found him loitering in a men’s room at the crowded airport.”
Tears flooded Kelsie’s face and she murmured, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”
“Shhh,” he pressed his mouth to her cheek, wiping away the tears as they fell. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay! I accused you of something horrible! I actually believed—”
“Yeah, that part is a little scary. After all the time we’ve spent together, that you could actually believe I’m a rapist and murderer. I feel like I know you, Kelsie. But I don’t think you know me at all.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, over and over again. “My mother put this idea into my head, and it festered there. I let it get completely out of hand.”
He turned her face to meet his, and pressed his lips against hers. She was hesitant for a moment, then sank into the kiss. When Tom pulled back, he smiled. “That’s another thing we need to deal with. You and your mother, and these paranoid delusions.”
“She’s been alone raising two girls for a long time now.” Kelsie sniffled. The rationalization made sense when she thought it, but sounded ridiculous when she tried to explain it out loud.
“I understand. She’s worried about you. I’m not sure if having a man around the house would ease her mind, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”
She looked at him incredulously. “I threatened you.”
“With an ink pen,” he reminded, and smiled.
“I’m nuts. You said so yourself.”
“That was when you were threatening me with the ink pen. I’m over it now. Everyone’s a little nuts sometimes. I know I’m nuts about you. I just don’t know what we’re going to do about it.”
“I can’t believe you want anything to do with me.”
He thrust his hips upward and she felt his erection pressing her ass. “I still have a pretty long list of things I want to do with you,” he teased. “It includes spending the rest of spring break here, with you, in bed. And then we can work out the shortest route between your school and mine, for weekend trips. And when summer comes, if things are still as wonderful as I suspect they will be, convincing you to switch schools and move to Lawrence with me for our senior year.”
“Wow.” She stared at him, focusing on his eyes. She knew hers were full of amazement, but his were brimming with an emotion that looked strangely like love.
“Yeah,” Tom replied, grinning at her. “You’re not the only one with a vivid imagination. I’ve been imagining all kinds of things for you and me.”
“Excuse me,” she said, looking at him while she reached across the bed for her cell phone. “I need to call my mom and tell her there’s been a change of plans. The airport can’t get me on a flight to Florida. I’ll be staying here with a new friend, and coming home sometime next weekend.”
“Tell her they caught that guy. She can stop worrying, and relax.”
“Oh yeah,” Kelsie eagerly agreed, and giggled as he tickled her ribs. “I think we all can.”
One Good Outcome
Chapter One
“Drop to your knees.” Mistress Ginger’s voice was firm, humorless.
Steve Cannon lowered himself quickly, never one to be accused of not following directions.
“Now lean forward.” The toe of her shoe nudged his bare ass.
He bent until he was on hands and knees. His balls shifted in their sac, a nervous flutter that continued right up to his gut.
“Cold?” Her smooth leather shoe rubbed the underside of his testes.
“No, Ma’am.” The room was warm enough, but his precious jewels were now fully exposed, available for whatever she had in mind. His stomach clutched as he wondered exactly what that might be.
Sliding her hand between his thighs, she massaged the heavy sac. A feather-light touch of fingers sped over his burgeoning erection and retreated just as quickly. A squeeze would have been too good to be true. She’d never played with his cock that early in the evening before. She’d torment him first, and he knew it. Loved it.
“You’re getting hard,” she murmured. “Remember to practice self-control. If you make a mess on the floor, I’ll make you lick it up.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He swallowed nervously. There was no doubt she’d do it, and the idea didn’t excite him. It was one thing to lick the floor at his place, or her condo. He could handle that. But the floor in a BDSM club, even an exclusive and expensive one such as Delilah’s, couldn’t be all that clean. He focused on the wall and began going over a legal brief in his head. Anything to keep his mind occupied so he didn’t get aroused too quickly.
She walked around and stopped in front of him. Staring straight ahead, he saw only her black fish-net stockings and thin garter belt that held them up. He dared not look any higher without permission, although he could smell her musky scent, and stealing a peek was tempting.
“Are you thinking about work?”
“No, Ma’am.” He reconsidered. “Yes, Ma’am.”
She ran her fingers through his thick, curly black hair and grasped a handful. “Don’t lie to me. You know what happens when I catch you in a lie.”
I know. That’s why I do it. “Yes, Ma’am,” he repeated, flinching when she pulled his hair.
Bending down, she spoke directly in his ear. “I don’t want you to think about the office. Be here, now, in the moment. Force your mind to compartmentalize. Put thoughts of work away. Put thoughts of a climax aside. The only thing you should think about is pleasing me. Do you understand me? Say ‘Yes, Mistress’, or you’re going to make me pull your hair again.”
The tugging on his scalp was painful. He was ready for it to end, for them to move on. “Yes, Mistress,” he choked out.
“Good,” she purred, releasing him. “Such a smooth talker. You’re always so glib, so quick with the golden tongue.” She strolled to an armless chair, at one end of the room, and dropped into it, spreading her legs. “Crawl over here and use that tongue on me. Don’t remove my panties, and don’t use your hands—or your teeth. Only your tongue.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He approached her, eyes focused on the prize: her almost fully-shaved mons pubis, covered by the tiniest pair of black underwear. The crotch of the panties was already soaked, and he smiled.
Sticking his tongue out, he pushed the scrap of fabric to the side. A thin
rectangle of auburn hair covered her slit, evidence to the fact that her thick red tresses were natural. He loved to see the wild mane spread out on the pillow below him, or bobbing above as she rode him to frenzy. He had miles to go before reaching one of those landmarks, though. Making her come with only his tongue was merely the first step, and one he was delighted to take.
He flicked his tongue through her folds, savoring the first taste of her heady musk. Again, targeting her clit this time, he caused her hips to buck. He alternated long, smooth strokes with short, fast licks.
Mistress’ moan was encouragement to keep him going; driving harder, faster, deeper. Resisting the urge to suck the button of her clit into his mouth, he continued using only his tongue. It was, apparently, just enough.
She came with a low groan, thrusting her pelvis into his face and splashing his lips and chin with spicy nectar. Without permission to drink her juices he licked, trying to lap up every drop he could.
“Yes!” She wove her fingers through his hair, delicately this time. “That was lovely. Clean me up, will you?”
He’d already started. Using many of the same movements that had brought her to orgasm, he licked with enthusiasm until she pushed him away.
“Good enough for now. Use your teeth to put my panties back in place.”
Steve thought about disobeying for a brief moment. He knew she carried a variety of whips and paddles in the black bag she’d placed in the corner. The idea of her spanking him caused his cock to stir and twitch. He tugged at the tiny crotch of her panties until it covered her glistening slit.
“Move back. Stay on your hands and knees.”
He crawled backwards, away from her.
“Do you like my new outfit?”
Finally, permission to look. His gaze traveled up her long legs, from the black high heels, over shapely fishnet-covered calves and thighs, to her deliciously round hips. She had a perfect hourglass figure, fleshier than the model-thin style that seemed to be in vogue, but perfect in his eyes. Along with the small black panties and garter belt, she wore a smart black-leather bustier that exposed an insane amount of her full, luscious tits. The fair-skinned mounds overflowed the garment, yet somehow, stayed in place, with just a hint of dark nipple exposed on each side.
His mouth watered. Eyes still moving up, his cock thickened when he spotted her long red hair, teased and sprayed to achieve maximum height and volume. Accented by the perfect amount of make-up, her lovely green eyes and lush red lips were designed to drive him mad. She was truly a goddess, and he would do anything for her. “Permission to speak, Mistress?”
“Go ahead.”
He saw mirth in her eyes. Their role-play still amused her sometimes. He could tell that occasionally she questioned herself, and the amount of power she had over him. But he was serious as a heart attack. He’d do anything she requested of him; even lick the floors at fucking Grand Central Station if that’s what it took.
Steve gazed into her eyes. “You look gorgeous tonight. Fucking hot. I could lift each of your tits out of that leather getup and suck the nipples until they were hard and tight. Then I’d spread you out on that table over there and drive my cock into your hot, wet pussy. After you came all over me, and my rod was slick and wet, I’d flip you around and bend you at the waist…and fuck your sweet ass until I exploded.” He raised his chin defiantly. “What do you think about that?”
Mistress seemed thoughtful as she moved to her open bag, surveying the contents. She removed a flogger with a thick black handle, and long plastic tendrils that shot out from the other end like a dark squid. She turned to face him. “I think that you’re an impudent slug, and if you believe that thing…” she leaned over to eye his dangling cock, “has any hope of touching me, you’ve got some repenting to do. Open your mouth.”
He did, and she inserted the handle of the flogger, effectively gagging him. Steve’s heart leaped. Exactly the reaction I was going for. His stomach tingled in anticipation of his repentance.
Mistress turned back to the bag and pulled out a deep purple, lightly cushioned paddle. She held it up and examined it before looking at him again. “Do you agree I need to use this?”
Steve nodded excitedly.
She shook her head with apparent disgust. “Such a slut for a spanking. I should really just leave. That’d be the best punishment for you.”
He shook his head fiercely. Not what he wanted at all. “Pwease.” The thick handle slurred his speech.
She smiled, running one finger under his chin. “That was sweet. Beg me, again.”
“Pwease,” he repeated without shame. He’d do anything for a spanking at that moment—had done much more to achieve to sweet pleasure/pain he craved so hungrily.
She returned to the chair and sat with legs together primly. “Position,” she snapped.
David scrambled to lie across her lap. He pressed his fingertips to the floor and straightened his legs. Spreading his knees the estimated five inches; he touched his toes to the tile.
Mistress massaged his ass with one firm hand. “Such a willing slave. So well-trained. I could make good money putting you out for hire.”
Steve groaned. Her hand and words caused him equal amounts of excitement. She’d never do that. But when they were like this, deeply immersed in role-play, he wasn’t sure exactly what she’d do. She’d surprised him on more than one occasion. He bucked his hips, risking—begging for—her attention.
A sharp slap of her hand warmed his ass. “Hold still.”
He froze. The first wisps of the sting settled over him pleasantly.
“Your ass is going to be beet red tonight. I can just tell.” She used both hands to pry his butt cheeks apart and traced a finger down his crack. “Mmm, nice. All dark and crinkly, puckering nicely, just for me.”
He held his position. She was finally getting to the best part.
Mistress worked one hand between his legs and grasped his cock, trapped helplessly between their bodies. With a nimble touch she stroked the shaft, coaxing pre-cum from the slit. She swiped a glob onto one finger and pressed it to his anus.
He bit back another groan. At that point, he wouldn’t move a muscle unless she told him to. He wanted that finger inside him, and more. So much more.
She poked the finger into his hole. “Warm and tight, just the way I like it. Just the way you like it. I know how much you love to fuck me in the ass.” Thrusting in and out for emphasis, she added another finger and plunged them both deep.
He bit into the flogger handle to help maintain control. Her fingers, deep inside, drove him wild. If he wasn’t so practiced in the art of self-control, he’d be staining her lovely stockings at that moment.
“I saw an interesting strap-on dildo at that online novelty store. I’d guess it was about ten inches long, and as thick as my wrist. I might order it, and see how you like being sodomized.”
A shudder of delight ran down his spine. He had no doubt he’d like it just fine.
“That got a rise out of you.” She chuckled, smoothing her free hand over his back. “I dare say you like the idea of getting fucked in the ass. Me, in black leather, riding you with my long, black strap-on.” She jabbed three fingers in and out of his ass roughly.
He was on the verge of an orgasm that would infuriate her to holy hell. Dropping his head, Steve tensed his body and held the flood back. It was almost too late, nearly impossible to staunch the tide, but he drew from deep within, and somehow, managed to tamp it down. Thank God.
He didn’t have permission to come. He also knew, the longer he held out, the more gratifying it would ultimately be. If he came then, she might hold true to her threat and punish him in the cruelest way possible, by going home.
He inhaled and exhaled deeply. Crisis averted.
Mistress slowed the motions of her fingers and slid them out. She massaged his ass firmly, finishing with light slap. “Nice self-control. You impress me sometimes, slave.”
He grunted, nearly unintelligible
with the flogger in his mouth, “Thank you, Ma’am.”
She leaned over him. “Did I say you should speak? Next time, I’ll bring the ball gag and take care of that.”
Stealing a glance at one of the large mirrors on the wall, he saw her remove the paddle from under her arm. He steeled himself for a blow.
“Maybe I’ll buy one of those cock-shaped gags. I think you’d like to have a nice cock shoved in your mouth, rather than a ball. Wouldn’t you?”
He didn’t speak, and quickly felt the sting of leather slapping his ass.
“I asked you a question! Would you like a nice cock gagging you next time?”
Steve nodded furiously. The pain of the first swat had rattled him. Knowing it was coming, wanting it desperately, hadn’t eased the discomfort. He braced himself for the next blow.
“You’re a closet bi-, aren’t you?” She paddled his ass repeatedly. “You like your pussy, but you’d like a nice cock, too. I can tell by the way your body reacts when I talk about it.”
Pain spread from his heated ass flesh in all directions. Overwhelming sensations flooded him and he struggled to fight blacking out. Agony so entangled with ecstasy ripped through his nerve endings. The feelings were so intense, he wasn’t sure if he came or not.
“You… never… told… me!” She accentuated each word with a full-on smack. “Lies of omission are still lies.”
Enough. A wild, uncontrollable groan climbed out of his belly, escaping his lips. Before he realized what happened, the black handled flogger fell from his mouth to the floor. His mind registered that he needed to offer profuse apologies, but he was so agitated he couldn’t speak.
She tossed the paddle on the floor. Fumbling between his legs, she discovered his cock, rock hard and weeping. “You haven’t come yet! Oh, baby! You’ve earned a reward. Want to fuck my pussy or ass? I’ll let you choose.”