Deep Control (Dark Dominance 2) - Page 22

“No. God, no. Honestly, the two things aren’t related, and I’ve never told any of my other subs about this. I didn’t want to explain myself, you know?” I gave a short huff of a laugh. “Explain why I’m into hurting women when I can’t stand people who hurt women.”

“You shouldn’t have to explain.”

“I mean, I would, but I don’t know how.”

“It’s definitely different,” she said. “The women you hurt want to be hurt. You need it to be consensual, even if you pretend there aren’t any safe words.”

“Yeah.” I thought a moment. “The safe words are in their faces. In their body language. I’m careful with my partners, you know?” I gave another short laugh, covering the pain. “What my father did to my mother—it had nothing to do with caring. It was all about hatred and defilement.”

I clamped my lips shut, swallowed hard. Collected myself. Ella watched me, wide blue eyes behind her brainy glasses.

“I never hate anyone I play with,” I said. “I don’t hate, period.” I wanted to say more, about how hate poisoned lives, how hate resulted in broken bones and black eyes, how hate made life into hell, but I couldn’t. I wanted to explain how hate had made me feel helpless and useless, how I’d never been able to protect my mother or myself.

She took my hand in a warm, soothing grip. “I’m sorry, Devin. How long did you have to live like that?”

I let out a breath. “Until my adoptive father befriended my mother. She worked at a small airport he flew out of, serving food in the cafeteria. He noticed the bruises on her arms, and the way she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but he drew her out over time, gained her trust and learned her story. By the time he convinced her to leave my father, the two of them had grown close.” I paused, remembering how he’d changed my mother with his love and understanding. How he’d given her the courage to change. “My first father was the worst of the worst. My second father is the best of the best. Maybe your father falls somewhere in the middle,” I said. “Not a great father, but at least he’s capable of love.”

She was still studying me with a sympathetic gaze. “It’s hard to believe you came from a man like that.”

I wished now I hadn’t told her. I’d buried my past deep and built a new life for myself, a life that started when I was six years old. “You shouldn’t feel sorry for me,” I said. “Everything’s great now. I learned that it’s not normal to hurt women, unless it’s the kind of hurt they enjoy. Speaking of which…”

I needed to stop thinking about my past and start thinking about sex. The noise swelled in the room again, a raucous round of laughter from one of the corners. I leaned close to Ella, taking in her fresh, vanilla-tinged scent. “I want to hurt you, little horndog. And fuck you, although I don’t think you deserve to have it feel very good.”

Her shiver thrilled me, and the way she leaned into my body made me hard. I smothered a curse and beckoned for the check, eager to get her to my place. I decided a good, old-fashioned paddling and anal session would make my sassy scientist a sorry little rule-breaker. Bonus: we’d both have a lot of fun.

*

As soon as we arrived at my apartment, I made her strip down to her panties and kneel by the couch while I got the paddle and lube.

“I want the tour,” she pleaded when I returned. “Your place looks so…beautiful. Don’t you want to show me around before we begin?”

My place wasn’t beautiful. It was a bare-bones bachelor pad, earth tones and chrome, and she was trying to distract me from my purpose. I nudged her chin up using the long, thick paddle. “What did I tell you when we talked on Friday night?” I asked in a stern voice.

“You said…” Her voice trembled. “One last orgasm.”

“That’s right. I said you could have one last orgasm until I got back. But you had more orgasms, didn’t you?”

“Just one.” She shifted on her knees. “It was the butt plug, Sir. It made me horny. You said I had to wear it every night.”

I frowned. “So it was my fault you couldn’t obey a simple directive?”

“Yes. No. I mean…” She sighed. “A bunch of pressure and horniness built up inside me. I’m sorry. But I promise, I swear, I only orgasmed once. And I was wearing the plug at the time, so it hurt a little bit. I didn’t break that rule about coming when you were hurting me, because you kind of were.”

“I’m kind of going to again, naughty girl,” I said, pulling her across my lap. “But this time I’ll be hurting you with this paddle, and my big dick up your ass. So, you know, feel free to come if you’re able to.”

Ha. I knew she’d be able to. I peeled her panties down her legs and left them around her ankles, then thrust my fingers between her pussy’s folds. They came away soaking wet.

“You can’t control your horniness, can you?” I taunted. “This is supposed to be a punishment for breaking the rules.”

“I know, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be sorrier when I’m done with you.”

I arranged her so her ass was in the air and her hands and toes braced against the floor. “I don’t want any flailing around,” I said. “And no screaming and yelling. This apartment isn’t soundproof.”

The Gallery was soundproof though, and I’d have her screaming and yelling there soon enough. This weekend, if her uniform was ready. I tapped the paddle against her round, luscious ass, admiring her pale cheeks. Her legs trembled as she waited. God, I wanted to mount her that second. No, not yet.

Instead, I gave her a sharp crack with the paddle. She kicked her feet and sucked in a breath.

“Keep those toes on the floor,” I told her. “I’m just getting started.”

She resumed her position, whimpering softly. Crack. Crack. Crack. I left some time between each spank, enough of a pause to make her nervous about the next lick, but not enough to allow for any relief of the pain. Her agonized contortions were beautiful. Each time I brought the paddle down, leaving a bright pink mark, she bucked in my lap and kicked her feet.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Ouch. I’m so sorry.” She whispered the words over and over, but otherwise she kept quiet, expressing her dismay in muffled squeaks and tears. Her glasses fell to the floor and I set them on the end table so they wouldn’t break.

“Had enough yet?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“It’s too bad we’re only halfway through.”

Her moan went right to my cock, which crept toward the waistline of my pants, hard, thick, ready. I wanted to be inside her so bad, but I also wanted her ass to be stinging like a swarm of bees before I fucked it, so I continued the paddling, alternating from cheek to cheek, occasionally catching her on her sensitive upper thighs. She made tiny, frantic sounds as her pink cheeks deepened to red, but it was from repetition of blows, not force. By tomorrow, she wouldn’t have so much as a bruise.

But she was hurting and squirming, which was perfect for both of us. She kicked so much—even with my reprimands—that her panties flew across my living room. I made her stand while I retrieved them, then ordered her to open her mouth. I balled up the scrap of nylon and shoved it between her lips, then ordered her back over my lap.

She complied, tearful and resigned. From then on, her whimpers and groans were muffled, until, eventually, her ass was paddled scarlet. She must have been in a world of pain, but of course, nothing was more exciting to her. As I put down the paddle, she humped her clit against my thigh.

“No,” I said, smacking her hot ass with my palm. “You’re not allowed to come from rubbing your clit this time. If you want to come, it’s going to be with my cock up your ass.”

I spread her cheeks open with one hand, revealing the tender, unmarked pucker of her asshole. I flicked open the lube’s cap and dripped a dollop of slickness into her crevice. I shoved a finger inside her, so her back arched from the shock. The copious lube had me sliding all the way to the knuckle. I added more lube for good measure, then released her so I could

strip off my clothes.

She turned to watch me, looking guilty and lustful at once. Good lord, she was a fucking flirt, with a mouthful of panties, no less.

“Face the front,” I said. “You already took what you wanted while I was away. Now I get mine.”

I sat on the couch again and lubed my cock, then grabbed her hips and drew her back toward me. “Spread your legs and sit on my lap,” I said. She crouched down, letting me guide her scarlet ass cheeks toward my jutting tool. “Steady,” I said, and she draped her knees over mine as I held her waist and aimed my cock at her lubed hole. “You better be ready for me, bad girl. Are you ready?”

“I’m scared,” she whined through the panty gag as I started pressing the head inside her. “Please. Owww.”

“What?” I taunted. “I’m having trouble understanding you.”

Now that the head had pushed into her tight ring, I grasped her hips and pulled her down, making her accept the rest of my throbbing organ. One inch. Another inch. I watched myself sink inside her, stretching her, hurting her. Her muffled groan of pain made my cock surge to maximum fullness, which stretched her butt even worse.

“How does that feel?” I asked. “Does it feel as good as the butt plug you had to wear? As good as the orgasm you enjoyed when you disobeyed me?”

She made a strangled sound that might have been yes, or no, or fuck me harder. I decided it was the last one, and pumped my hips so she bounced on my cock, the lube making a squelching sound each time I slid into her ass. Her squeals and groans drove me wild. She made me feel like an animal, and the best part was that she loved when I treated her that way.

I was so close to coming, and even though she’d been bad, I wanted her to come too, because she gave me so much pleasure that my body was going to explode.

I slid my hand between her legs and gripped her pussy, bucking harder as her cries rose behind her gag. “If you’re going to come,” I said against her ear, “you’d better come now. Right now, while I’m hurting your asshole.” I punctuated each word with a sharp smack to her clit, and by the time I got to the word asshole, I could feel her channel clamping down on my cock.

Tags: Annabel Joseph Dark Dominance Erotic
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