Missing Ink

by E J Frost

  “Still no sex,” he confirms.

  Fuck, why do I have to be attracted to Doms? Any other guy would be totally down for sex tomorrow. We’ve already had a goddamn date. But nooooo. I have to go for guys who want me to freaking earn sexual privileges.

  It’s official. I’m insane.

  “But,” he continues, “if someone’s a very, very good girl, there might be orgasms.”

  “Orgasms for me or orgasms for both of us?” I ask.

  Because I would be totally down for giving him a blow job or a hand job after he’s flogged me through a couple of orgasms.

  “Definitely orgasms for you. I’ll consider orgasms for both of us but putting your hand on me is also something you’d have to earn.”

  Yup, totally insane, because the idea of earning giving him a hand job has me rubbing my thighs together. Again.

  “Could I work on earning them now, sir? We could play two truths and a lie.”

  “Not familiar with that one, bold girl. Tell me how it works.”

  “We each say three things about ourselves. Two are true. One’s a lie. The other person has to guess which is the lie. If I guess right, could that earn me some sex privileges?”

  A deep laugh that has me squirming against the fullness in my ass and the sweet ache between my legs. “Sure. You first.”

  “Okay. My favorite color is red. I was born during Clinton’s presidency. I have nine toes.”

  He doesn’t even hesitate, damn him. “Your favorite color’s not red. Did you lose a toe or were you born without?”

  “Birth defect. How did you know my favorite color’s not red? Did Emily tell you?”

  “The blue hair told me. My turn. For the prize of your hand on my cock for one minute, I own every Black Sabbath concert tee. I want to be buried at sea. I was married longer than I was in the Navy.”

  I do quick math, remembering what Emily told me about when he got divorced. “You were in the Navy longer than you were married. Also, I’m sorry, but I can’t be seen in public with someone who owns every Black Sabbath concert T-shirt. Nothing personal, sir, but that’s a deal breaker.”

  His laugh rolls over me again and I smother a sigh.

  “Too bad because that was right. Guess I’ll just have to sneak in and out through the back door.” His double-entendre sends a thrill of anticipation rocketing through said, plugged back door. “Or you could wear the concert tees.”

  “I’d still know you own them all. Hard limit.” I wait until his chuckling dies down before I continue, “Okay, three about me. Since we’re doing music, I once dated the lead singer of my favorite band, Staind. My best friend is a drag queen. Oh, and the only pet I’ve ever had is a goldfish named Marvin.”

  “Mmm, Emily mentioned your friend dances at ‘Just a Cigar,’ so I know that one’s true. Between dating Aaron Lewis and a fish named Marvin, I’m guessing Marvin’s true.”

  “Winner, and you just totally redeemed yourself by knowing Staind’s line-up. I’ll forgive you your terrible taste in concert shirts.”

  “Gunner in my last platoon was a Staind fan-boy. I think I can sing all their songs from memory. Unforgiveable waste of gray matter.” At my huff, he laughs. “Do you date, bold girl? Because I get the impression you don’t.”

  What? Do I have an invisible sign that says, “incapable of dating” hanging over my head?

  “Did I fumble lunch that badly, sir?”

  “No, you were delicious at lunch. I’ve had a semi-stiffy all day. But other than concluding the Doms at this club of yours are a bunch of fucktards, I can’t for the life of me understand why you’re not collared and branded already. Or why they left you thinking for a single second that you weren’t able to submit anymore.”

  “Oh.” Heat rushes to my cheeks. And lower down. “I, uh, maybe I’m just not that much of a prize.”

  “Yes, you are,” he rumbles, dropping his voice into that deep bass register again. I think I have a mini orgasm. “Last go, and then we’re going to play before bed. Prize is your hand on my cock until I come, because now I can’t get the image of your fucking sexy fingers on my dick out of my head. Here are my three. I’m allergic to peanuts. I can’t watch war movies. Christmas is my favorite holiday.”

  “Gimme a minute,” I mutter, because my brain got stuck on him thinking my fingers are sexy. “Um, if you have a peanut allergy then you’d be dead after that soup, so that’s the lie. What kind of SEAL can’t watch war movies, sir?”

  He grunts. “I wasn’t ever a SEAL. You finished your bath?”

  “Yes, sir. How’d you know I’m in a bath?”

  “I can hear the water lapping.”

  “That’s some damn good hearing, Master Mac.”

  “Something to remember if you’re tempted to mutter curses at me, bold girl. Get out and dry off. I want you in bed for the next part.”

  Dayum. “Yes, sir.”

  Usain Bolt has nothing on me as I fly out of the tub, dry off, and jump into bed. I’m still a little damp in spots, mostly between my legs, as I settle under my sheet, comforter, and Bebe J’s handmade quilt. I wriggle down against the sheets and set the phone on the pillow next to me.

  “Sir, if we’re going to play, could we make this a video call? I’d really like to see you.”

  Mac chuckles. “Sure. Sorry, I didn’t think of that. Still in the age of rotary phones. I’ll call you back.”

  “I can switch it over.”

  I tap my phone and bring up FaceTime. Mac frowns into his phone for a second, then flashes me a blinding grin. “Okay, I would not have known how to do that.”

  “Well, you can’t do it on a rotary phone, sir.”

  He shakes his head at me. “Smartass.”

  I give him my best shit-eating grin.

  “Careful, beautiful girl. We can play an edging game instead of a mutual masturbation game.”

  My mind stumbles again. He thinks I’m beautiful? Sexy. Sure, men have called me that. Beautiful? Not so much. And I’d be totally happy with edging instead of mutual masturbation. Denial makes me crazy hot. “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have any toys handy?”

  “Yes, sir.” A whole drawer of them right beside the bed.

  “Grab your favorite vibrator. A rabbit if you have one.”

  I do. I pull my bright purple rabbit and a bottle of lube out of my nightstand and lie back in the pillows.

  He props his phone against something so I can see his head and torso as he reclines against a pile of snowy pillows and brass rails. I recognize that bed, since I’ve slept in it more than once: Logan and Emily’s guest bed. Mac’s wearing a black T-shirt, which stretches over his big shoulders and chest muscles, and hot-guy gray sweatpants. He should be too old to make that look work. Either he’s not or gray sweatpants work no matter what a guy’s age. He said he’s had a semi-stiffy all day, but unless the gray sweatpants are miracle-workers, he’s graduated to full bloom. And what a pleasant-looking package it is. I feel my brain melting again.

  As he smiles into the screen, he teases the edge of the T-shirt with his fingertips. His smile fills his eyes. Dayum. Plenty of guys smile with just a crinkle around the edges. Mac’s smile swells, making his eyes so intensely blue they burn.

  “Will you be warm enough if you pull down the covers below your breasts?”

  “Yes, sir.” I fold down the covers a few inches at a time, revealing my throat, my shoulders, the tops of my breasts, and finally my nipples. I tuck the folded material into the undercurve of my breasts and feel the heat of his stare play over my bared skin.

  “I like the piercings,” he says. “What’s the blue metal?”

  “Cobalt, sir.”

  “Can you pinch your nipples hard with the bars in?”

  “I can, but if they’re pulled too much, the piercings can tear, so I tend to take them out for scenes.”

  “Thank you for telling me. Can you sleep with them out? They won’t close up?”

  “They’ll be fine, sir.”


  “Okay, take them out now, and any others that you’d take out before bed.”

  I unscrew each one and pop them in the dish on my night table where I keep my jewelry. I already took out my earrings and took off my rings before I got in the bath, so I just take out my tongue stud before I settle back and fix the covers again.

  “I’m probably showing my age here, but I’ve never had a blow job from someone with a tongue piercing,” he says. “Is it something to look forward to?”

  “Can I trade my hand job privileges for blow job privileges tomorrow if I reveal the Secrets of the Tongue Stud?”

  He chuckles. “No. I need to get my test results back first. They won’t be back until Monday, so it’s a hand job only tomorrow.”

  “I have no problem using a condom, sir.”

  “I’m not using condoms with you, girl. When I’m inside you, it’s going to be just you and me, skin to skin,” he says. “Besides, condoms break. I wouldn’t risk your health that way. Results will be back on Monday. Your eager little slut mouth can wait that long.”

  I shiver uncontrollably. That was definitely a mini orgasm. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Since you’ve got the barbells out, pinch your nipples, my dirty girl. Show me how you like them played with.”

  I fight to hold his burning blues as I grab my nipples between my thumbs and first fingers and pull them away from my body. When they’re stretched and stinging, I rub my thumbs back and forth, rolling my nipples until the skin blanches white, then fires pink as I release.

  “Mmm,” Mac’s rumble is so deep it must be coming up from the freaking subway. “You like the bite, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” I hiss.

  “Harder,” he growls. “Show me how you take it.”

  I pinch and roll so hard I’m afraid the skin’s about to tear, shuddering with the white-hot sensation.

  “Sir, please,” I whimper.

  “One more twist for me.”

  Shaking, thighs clenching, I roll my nipples the other way with a high whine.

  “Perfect, good girl. Let go and pick up your vibrator.” He pushes his sweatpants down as he speaks. Fuck. He has hip dips. I’ve tattooed hundreds of guys who were pushing fifty. With a few exceptions, they did not have Adonis belts that made my brains leak out my ears. And where does he get off having all those lickable veins?

  He lifts his cock out with one of those fluid, sensual motions guys ease into when they’re about to jack off. Watching him has me biting my lips. Damn, I want that in my mouth. He’s uncut, slight curve to the left. Thick enough he’ll make my jaw ache. Long enough he’ll brutalize my throat.

  Mac chuckles. “Swallow, you’re drooling.”

  Oh, fuck, I am. I blot the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for wanting what you want. Particularly if what you want is me.” He cups his erection. “This is all for you, bold girl.”

  Hell, yes. “When, sir?”

  He shakes his head at me, but he’s grinning. “Soon. Don’t rush the good stuff. Lube up the toy and put it in but don’t turn it on yet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I flip the top on the lube and squeeze a few dollops on the rabbit before pushing down the covers and positioning the vibrator between my legs. As I reach down, I realize Mac can’t see what I’m doing with my knees up. I try to turn on my side, but there’s no way I’m coming in that position without something to brace me. I flail around for a pillow while trying to hold on to the slippery rabbit.

  “Get comfortable, girl. We’re not making porn here. I can see enough.”

  I smile at him, appreciating his attention to my comfort. I stuff the pillow my fingertips have found under my hips and settle onto my back again. I drop my right leg, knee to the mattress, so he can see as much as possible. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Put it in. Nice and slow. Tease it in and out, just like I’m going to do with my cock.”

  My pussy squeezes at the thought and my leg quivers. I prop my wrist on my thigh to keep my leg still and follow his command, rubbing the rabbit’s tip up and down my labia before pushing it in a little, sliding it back, and pushing it in some more. Mac’s appreciative rumble sends another sweet spasm through me. He drapes an old-fashioned cloth handkerchief over his abs and takes his cock in hand, rolling his foreskin back and forth until his glans peeks out between the loose circle of his thumb and forefinger. The gleaming drop that gathers at his slit makes me lick my lips with longing.

  “Want that, do you, girl?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “You’ll get it soon enough. Fuck yourself with the rabbit, nice and deep now. Push it all the way in so you feel the stretch.”

  I do, on a stroke that makes me shudder. I’m so full with the plug and the rabbit in. The rabbit’s long enough to hit my cervix and I bump it just enough to send a spike of pain up into my belly. “Oh, fuck!”

  “Mmm, that’s good,” Mac rumbles as he begins to jack himself, holding his tip tight and letting his ruddy balls jerk. I watch his motion, memorizing how he likes it, as I lick my lips over and over with the desire to have that pumping meat in my mouth.

  “Turn the vibrator on now, girl. Just those prongs. I want to see them shake your clitty.”

  “Fuck, sir.” I thumb the button to turn on the rabbit ears and position them on my clit hood. My clit’s already poking out and putting the ears straight on my clit is going to hurt but I’ll ask Mac for that in a minute anyway because I’m certifiable.

  “Yes, girl. Like that. I love seeing your pussy shake. That’s a view I’m going to want to see often. Turn it up now and show me how you take it.”

  I flick the button and moan as the vibration ramps up enough to rattle my teeth. Fuck, that hurts exactly the way I like. “Oh, sir.”

  “Nice, girl,” Mac rumbles as he jacks himself harder, his corona peeking over the rim of his fingers with each stroke. “Show me what you like.”

  I grit my teeth in anticipation and pull up on the skin of my mons with my free hand while I position the ears right on my exposed clit. I yelp at the sensation and bow my back as I try to get away from the too-muchness of it even while I push myself closer. “Fuck! Fuck, sir.”

  “That’s it, girl. So pink and pretty. Do you like being fucked hard?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Let me see it. Slam that little kitty.”

  A long moan rips out of me as I pump the vibrator the way he’s instructed, working against the thickness of the plug, tapping my cervix with each thrust, catching my clit with the rabbit ears. I squirm up the bed and hit my head against the bedrail before I stop myself. “Ow, fuck!”

  Mac laughs breathily. “You okay, girl?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Try it again. Harder. I want to see you really take it for me.”

  “Yes, sir.” I pound myself with the vibrator while bracing against the bedrail with my free hand. It hurts and feels so good. “Oh, sir, fuck!”

  “That’s it. That’s it, girl.” He pumps furiously, his cockhead and balls flushing. A long groan tears out of him as white spurts arc from his tip to land on the handkerchief. I slow my strokes while I watch him come. The look of pleasure and relief that contorts his handsome face is something I could stare at all day.

  He keeps milking his cock with long strokes, a few white spatters still flicking from the tip. He growls as he meets my eyes again. “Did I say you could stop?”

  Oops.

  “Sorry, sir. I just liked seeing you come.”

  “Which is what I want to see. Do it, girl. Hard and fast, just like I’m going to fuck you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I give it my all and groan with the sharp, curling sensation in my belly when I bump my cervix over and over with the rabbit. The shudder starts deep and spreads fast, curling my toes and shaking my legs and breaking over me in wave after wave of sharp-sweet release.

  “Ohhhhh, sir
.”

  “Yes, that’s a good girl. Pat your clit for me with the flats of your fingers. Nice, sharp pats.”

  I do and squeal with the overstimulation. “Ouch! Ouch, sir.”

  “Mmm, very nice. Turn off the vibrator now and just keep moving it in and out for me.”

  It takes me three tries to find the right button because my eyes are still crossed after that orgasm. I glide the shaft in and out languorously, enjoying the sensation of fullness even while it edges into too much stimulation.

  “Beautiful, girl.” Mac watches me avidly, his blue eyes dark and burning. “That’s beautiful. Ease it down, slower and slower.”

  Under his direction, I slide the thick shaft in and out until it’s still inside me.

  “There we go. Very good girl. Slide it out.” His warm voice has dropped to a whisper. His eyes are hooded and a satisfied smile dimples his face. “Put the vibrator where you can clean it tomorrow, pull up the covers, get in the position you like to sleep in, and close your eyes. Remember to text me when you wake up.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble as I shift around, following his orders. Then I give him something I almost never give my Doms. At least, not until they’ve given me half-a-dozen orgasms. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re welcome, bold girl. G’night. Turn off your phone now.”

  I do, and close my eyes, and drift off wishing it was Mac’s nice, thick dick in my ass instead of the plug.

  *****

  I sleep like the absolute dead. My alarm wakes me to the dulcet tones of Eminem rapping. Why did I leave it on that station? I blink in the gloom of my light-blocking shades and realize I’ve woken without a headache, without that painful pinching of exhaustion around my eyes, for the first time in weeks. I roll over from where I’ve curled around a pair of pillows and see my rabbit sitting on the bedside table. It makes me smile. A stretch makes me aware of the heavy fullness of the plug in my ass. Niiiice.

  I pick up my phone from beside the rabbit and text him.

  Good morning, sir. The plug is an excellent way to start the day.

  He responds before I even throw back the covers.

  Good morning. We’ll talk about the plug tonight. 6:30 still good?

  Yes, sir.