His Submissive (Fifteen Volume Box Set) Page 27

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Oh yeah? It will if I say so, mama.”

  He gripped her arm tighter and she winced. “You’re hurting me.”

  “So?”

  “So let her go,” a deep voice said from the shadows. The man glanced over at the voice that came from the darkness beneath a nearby awning.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the little man asked.

  Red stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing dark pants and a dark shirt rolled up to the elbows. He looked more casual, though still rich and stylish and perfect. But his face was a mask of anger. And he was a big man. “I’m the person telling you to let the lady go.”

  The man released his grip on her. “I was just playing.”

  “Sure you were.”

  “She come to this neighborhood dressed like that, she’s asking to have a pimp shoot some game. You know that.”

  “Shut up.” Red walked close and took her gently by the arm. “Come.”

  She turned and together they walked a pace or two.

  “Sorry about that, man,” the little Hispanic guy said.

  Red paused, then spun and walked back to him. Suddenly the man was on the sidewalk, laid out. His face was a mask of blood. Red had hit him, quickly and with tremendous force, hit him square in the nose. It had been so fast that Nicole could barely even process it.

  The man was dazed. His eyes were glazed and unfocused and he was trying to speak but it came out garbled. One of the hookers from down the block came running over, shouting something in Spanish.

  Red had already come back to Nicole’s side and guided her to the door beneath the awning. He unlocked the door and led her inside.

  The door clicked shut behind them and now they were in a dim, grim hallway. He continued to lead her, this time up one flight of stairs to a door marked 25. He unlocked it and escorted her inside.

  The apartment was surprisingly large and comfortable. Not nearly as ostentatious as his office, the living room was decorated with dark, modern furniture and modern art hung on the walls. Strangely, there was no television. The kitchen seemed bare and unused. There was a door that presumably led to the bedroom, but it was closed.

  Red glanced at her body appraisingly. “You dressed exactly as I asked,” he said.

  Nicole was still in shock from what she’d experienced outside. “I don’t appreciate being put in danger. Sir.”

  He nodded and walked to the kitchen. “Water? I’m afraid it’s all we have here.”

  “Fine, sir.”

  He smiled but she could see he was growing annoyed with her insolent attitude. Still, she was too upset and frightened to want to please him. She didn’t mind playing his twisted games, but not if she was going to be raped and murdered because of it.

  “Let’s relax for a moment,” he said, filling the glass and bringing it to her. His eyes met hers and she felt her willpower drain under his gaze.

  She was tremendously happy, wasn’t she? Despite the danger, she reminded herself that she’d wanted nothing but this moment—had been aching for it badly. Don’t spoil it now, she told herself.

  “I’m sorry for being upset, sir,” she said, after drinking some cold water.

  “Have a seat,” he told her, and she did. The dress was short and revealing of her creamy white thighs.

  Red took the view in as she crossed her legs, then he moved behind her as she sat on the couch. He reached down and began slowly massaging her tight shoulders. The feeling as he did so was like nothing she could recall. It was as if he was melting her, melting her with nothing but the subtlety of his touch.

  His hands knew her inside and out.

  “Oh…sir…that feels so amazing,” she whispered as his hands slid over her shoulders, slowly pulling the straps of her dress down so that he could access all of her bare skin. The slack created enough of a gap in the top of her dress that most of her breasts were now revealed as well.

  She could hear his breathing, deep and excited as he continued to work the muscles in her shoulders.

  Her slick mound was swollen, ready for his touch. The fabric of her dress was rubbing against her bare pussy, so close to the surface—all it would take was one quick tug and her dress could be hiked up to her hips.

  She could cum right now if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to seem so cheap and easy. Red wouldn’t respect her if she lost control with such little effort on his part.

  And so she ground her teeth together and kept herself from releasing the energy building in her lower anatomy.

  But she was so, so wet. Dripping wet.

  “Your skin is like alabaster,” he said. “I’ve never felt anything like it.” And then he stopped. His hands withdrew from her body, leaving her cold and lonely.

  “Thank you sir,” she whispered, desperately wanting to ask him for more.

  Could we go lay together in your bed—just for a little while?

  Nicole knew better than to ask.

  “Feeling better now?” he said, smiling at her, as if he knew the effect he’d had on her.

  “Yes, much better, sir.”

  “And the essay?” He held out his hand for it.

  “It’s not very good, sir.”

  He swatted her negative response away, irritated, and waited with his hand outstretched for her essay.

  Nervously she dug in her purse, finding the folded pieces of paper, withdrew them and handed them over. They looked silly now, like a teenager’s classroom homework. He’d surely wanted it printed out from a computer, hadn’t he? Why had she decided to do the essay longhand?

  She wanted to bury her face in her hands and scream.

  Red took her pages and walked to the chair opposite the couch, sat down and began reading. His face was expressionless but intent. It took him a long time, what seemed like forever to finish, and Nicole had to sit there and be still while she waited for his judgment.

  Her stomach was in knots.

  Finally he was done. He took one last glance at her essay and then folded it in half and set it on the glass coffee table. His expression was unreadable.

  “I know it was a mess,” she said. “But I wasn’t sure what you wanted, sir.”

  “Stand up,” he commanded. His whole demeanor had changed.

  She immediately stood, her blood pressure rising instantly. He looked her up and down, boldly taking in ever detail with his eyes. Her nipples stiffened and she could feel them poke through her sheer dress.

  “You have a beautiful body,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I can see so much of it without your bra and panties on. Do you like that?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.” A tremble ran through her legs.

  “Turn around so I can look at your ass.”

  She did. She could feel his eyes on her.

  “You have a nice tight ass,” he said. “I like the way it curves, the slope of it. Would you enjoy being spanked?”

  “I think so, sir.”

  “Never been?”

  “Spanked?” she asked.

  He waited without speaking for her answer.

  “I’ve never been spanked, sir,” she replied.

  She heard him rise from the chair and then the squeak of his shoes against the floor. He was slowly approaching. Soon she could feel his body heat behind her, he was very close now. “Your essay was good, Nicole.”

  “Thank you sir,” she said, gratified and surprised that he liked it.

  “But that was just something you wrote.”

  “I meant every word, sir.”

  “Tonight, you came in here with a bad attitude.”

  “I was frightened sir, I apologize.”

  “That’s no excuse for being disrespectful, Nicole. Now bend over and grasp the couch with your hands.”

  She knew what was coming and her entire body trembled with anticipation—both fear and longing. She leaned forward and her hands grabbed the top of the couch. The hem of her dress pulled up t
o the very top of her thighs.

  “Spread your legs further apart now.”

  She stood with her legs further apart, and her dress moved upwards again. She could feel the air on her butt now. Red Jameson was seeing her ass.

  He maneuvered himself so that he was slightly at an angle to her, and one of his strong hands gripped her shoulder. “Your insolence requires punishment,” he said tightly.

  She felt a sting as his other hand came down and slapped her buttocks. Her ass cheeks bounced with the force of it. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll do better.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  Another hard slap. The sound echoed in the apartment. Her pussy vibrated from the pressure. She was getting excited.

  “I think your bottom needs to be fully bare.”

  He slowly, ever so slowly, pulled her dress up over the curve of her ass. Now her butt was totally in his view. She could hear his excited breathing, but other than that he was silent.

  Next, there was another crack of his hand against her naked butt.

  She cried out, mostly in pleasure. This seemed to goad him to spank her more fervently. Soon he was paddling her butt with his hand.

  The slaps were firm and strong, but the pain wasn’t very intense. Nicole was enjoying it much more than she would have imagined. It was intimate, she felt completely connected to Red, and trusting that he wouldn’t do anything to truly hurt her. She moaned as he beat her buttocks.

  Finally, he seemed to relent.

  “Pull your dress down, cover yourself,” he whispered huskily, moving away.

  She did as he said. Her cunt was dripping down her legs and she wanted nothing more than his hand on her bare mound. If he so much as grazed it, she’d have gone off like a fire alarm.

  But he wasn’t touching her anymore.

  She glanced back at him and saw that he was studying her. His eyes were so hungry, she knew that he wanted her badly, perhaps as much as she wanted him.

  Then why doesn’t he just take me?

  She didn’t know the answer—she only knew that this was part of his seduction. He was a man, a patient and deliberate man, not some overeager boy who wanted to fumble around in the backseat of a car and then cum all over her hand after some petting and groping.

  “Come with me,” he said firmly. He walked toward the bedroom door.

  She followed him. The door was actually locked from the outside, which sent a chill up her spine. She reminded herself that she trusted him totally.

  Why do I trust him? I don’t even really know him.

  “What are you doing to me?” she said, before he could unlock the door.

  He turned to her, surprised. “If you don’t know, then perhaps you should leave.” He was displeased.

  “I should be allowed to ask.”

  “You shouldn’t forget your manners.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir, I just—“

  “You just nothing,” he said, and although his voice was controlled, she sensed how angry he was.

  “I’m afraid, sir.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Now it was her turn to be angry. She looked up into his eyes. “Who do you think you are? You think just because you have money and a bit of fame you can treat people like dirt? Like toys to do with whatever you please?”

  “Yes.” He smiled at her.

  “I’m not your toy. I’m a person.”

  “You’re whatever I tell you to be.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He broke into a wide smile and laughed. “Fuck me?”

  “That’s right.” She tilted her chin up, daring him.

  “Of course you want to fuck me,” he said softly.

  Her face went red with embarrassment. He’d taken her insult and ferreted out the truth of it. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted it so badly, more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. And somehow she’d thought that by turning the tables, maybe he’d do it. Maybe she could enrage him into a frenetic passion and he’d make love to her right here and now.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” she muttered.

  “Do you want to stop? You’re free to go at any time.”

  She sighed. “I want to be with you.”

  “Then do as I say.”

  Head bowed, she nodded submissively. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry for my rudeness, sir.”

  “Again,” he growled. “You don’t learn very easily, do you?” And he swung the door open to the bedroom. Only it wasn’t a real bedroom.

  Everything inside was black. Leather. He led her into the black room. There was a bed with four posts. Hanging from each post were a variety of chains, scarves and handcuffs.

  There were four long, thick chains hanging from the ceiling as well.

  In the corner of the room was something that resembled a pommel horse from gym class. And in the other corner of the room was a menacing black trunk.

  “What do you think of it?” he asked her, like he was showing her a new car.

  “It’s…impressive…sir.”

  “It’s a room of delights,” he said. “You’ll see for yourself.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He shut the door behind them and faced her. “You’ve been rude to me, again. This calls for stronger punishment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you understand why?”

  “Because I keep being bad, sir.”

  “Good girl. Now turn around.”

  She did as he commanded.

  He waited a moment. “If you ever want to stop or leave, simply tell me, or if you can’t speak--extend your two fingers like a peace sign.”

  Can’t speak? Why wouldn’t I be able to speak?

  The next thing she knew, a piece of dark cloth had been quickly placed over her eyes. A blindfold. He tied it in back with a quick and efficient twist of his hands. “And since you seem so intent on voicing your many opinions, I’m afraid you’ll need to be quieted as well.” A piece of rubber was inserted in her mouth.

  This surprised her greatly. There were two straps that pulled across her cheeks to keep the gag in place. These also were tied behind her head.

  “Now all you will have is my voice to guide you,” he said.

  She nodded, breathing through her nose. Everything was dark. Unable to even speak, she felt totally helpless and afraid. Her head was buzzing. She wasn’t sure she could do this, do what he asked.

  “Down on your fucking knees, you disobedient girl.”

  She hesitated. She wanted to scream. The fear was building in intensity. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and pushed her to the floor. The wooden floor dug into the bones of her kneecaps.

  She considered holding up two fingers, but didn’t want to quit so soon. She needed to at least try. Calm down, she told herself. This is safe. He won’t ever hurt you.

  “Hands behind your back now,” he commanded.

  She did as he told her. The pain in her knees was uncomfortable but bearable. He left her in this position for minutes, maybe as long as fifteen minutes. The pain was slowly increasing as she was forced to maintain the position.

  “Do you want to get up off the floor, girl?” he asked, when the discomfort had built to a truly uncomfortable level.

  She nodded.

  “Will you be respectful to your master from now on?”

  She nodded again.

  “Good girl. Stand up, then.”

  She got slowly to her feet. His hand was immediately upon her elbow, and he pulled her forward. “Now the bed. Lie down on your back, slut.”

  In an instant, he’d thrown her on her back on the soft bed. After the hard floor and the pain in her knees, the bed felt positively luxurious and she was grateful to him for putting her on it.

  “Extend your arms and legs all the way,” he told her.

  When she did, he began tying up her wrists with what she assumed were the scarves she’d seen dangling from the four bedposts. Next, he tied her feet. She was completely t
ied up and immobile now.

  She couldn’t see or speak.

  “I can see your heart beating through your dress,” he said, sitting next to her. She felt his weight sinking into the mattress.

  It was so dark. So dark and she couldn’t speak or move.

  “Trust me,” he whispered into her ear. “You will come to see what I see in this world. And you will never want to go back.”

  She nodded reluctantly. After some time had passed, he changed position. She could sense his movements but didn’t know what he was doing. His hands were on her calves now, lightly touching them.

  Goose bumps raised on her skin as he caressed her legs softly. “You are a princess. You are beautiful. But you need to learn manners,” he cooed.

  His hands moved up to her thighs. Now she was feeling the pleasure. She moaned through her gag. The darkness had become a friend, somehow. She rather enjoyed not knowing where his hands would move next. Not knowing what he might do to her, where he might touch her.

  For a very long time, his warm hands moved along her thighs, tracing up and down, and each time he strayed towards her wetness, she moaned louder and louder. She was going to cum soon. She couldn’t help it. She’d wanted him to touch her like this, and here it was happening.

  A man that could have any woman he wanted had chosen her.

  Her body was shaking as she tried to resist the urge to come.

  The more she tried to resist, the harder it became. Her nipples were so hard she could have cut glass with them. They poked roughly up through her dress. He must have noticed this, because suddenly his hands were on them, roughly pulling her nipples and squeezing them through the sheer fabric of the dress.

  She moaned louder and louder, her body bucking and writhing in its straps.

  “You bad, dirty little slut,” he whispered. “I think we might have found a thoroughbred,” he said, as if to himself, marveling at her eagerness.

  He played more with her nipples, sometimes being gentle, other times squeezing until it became painful. But always there was pleasure. Always.

  He was a master, and he played her body the way a great violinist would stroke his bow against the strings of an instrument. Sometimes fiercely, with something akin to violence, other times the gentleness of his caress was a thing of beauty.

  Nicole was out of her mind, out of her body, out of her self. She’d become something totally different, as if she’d been transported. In the darkness she found she didn’t care how she looked, or what he might be thinking of her moaning and writhing. She completely let herself go, let the fantasy become reality.