An Expert in Domination (18 page)

He tapped her with the crop, more firmly than he had with the cane. Then he brought it down hard, and she shrieked. It was intense. He tapped her gently in a different place, and she took deep breaths, trying to absorb what had happened to her. She remembered his lesson, took the energy and imagined it gathering deep inside. He struck her again, as hard if not harder, but this time she took it and processed it, until her pussy ached more than her ass did. Her pussy felt like it was swollen. Could people see that? She was sure Colby knew. He could smell her arousal.
Why isn’t he touching me? Can he read that this is the end?

Another strike stung her bottom, and tears began to flow. She didn’t know if he could see her cry, but she hoped he wouldn’t stop. She’d been holding them back, trying to be brave and nonchalant, but she was almost relieved to feel them streaming down her face. She heard herself sobbing.

He moved back to the paddle, and then his hand again, until she felt like she was all cried out.

“You looked like you needed that,” he said.

How had she ever found a man who understood that she needed to cry, even when he didn’t know the reason? And—still more rare—a man who could force it out of her and knew to keep going until it was all gone.
I need him. And I can’t have him.

But somehow, I will be okay.
She felt the calmness that only he could bring out in her. He stroked her hair gently. “Please, yes. Touch me. Any way you like.” She craved his touch. She was addicted to it.

“Do you still desire the cane, slave girl? Because if you do, it will hurt.”

“Yes, Master.” She knew she could take the pain now. She was spacey but lucid. Calm. And more pain would only take her higher.

“Anything more you need to say?”

I love you.
“No, Master.”

He shifted his hand so that he was holding her hair rather than stroking it, and pulled slightly.
I’m the Master,
he seemed to be saying. She relaxed into it until she could feel the tugging on her scalp as pleasure deep in her core.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

“I won’t scream.”

“Obey.”

“Yes, Master.” She opened wide. Then she tasted rubber. The gag was quickly strapped around her mouth, and she could no longer speak.

“I’m finding the more I play with you, the more I love you,” he said.

I love you? Thank God he gagged me lest I tell him I love him back. Or maybe he fears I wouldn’t.

“Which makes it harder. I find it harder to hear your screams than anyone I’ve played with for a long time. Usually, I can relish them. But sometimes—well, they have the power to make me go lighter. And I don’t want to be tempted.”

He opened her hand and placed the familiar metal ball in her hand. She squeezed it tight. If he didn’t want to be tempted, she wasn’t going to drop it.

“Now we begin again.” He played with the crop, striking her hard from both sides, then letting her pause. She bit down on the gag for the first few hits, then drifted off, the endorphins filling her head and making her relish each stroke as a way to get even higher. She wasn’t sure when her ass started moving back for it, but she knew she was moving, almost dancing on the bench. Pain and pleasure were indistinguishable.

A line of fire on her ass alerted her that he had switched from crop to cane. She made a loud moaning sound.
All I have to do is keep squeezing the metal ball.
She knew, abstractly, that he was marking her. Leaving bruises, possibly welts. That didn’t matter in the haze of sexual arousal and bliss she was feeling. She welcomed the next strike and even the soft taps in between that made the welts sting all over again.

She heard the cane clatter on the floor, signaling that he was done. She would have taken more, but it wasn’t her decision. Nothing was. She felt free.

His bare hand touched her backside, on top of the marks and inches from her pussy. “Come, Sophia,” he said to her.

And to her shock, she did, without him even touching her clit. Her body shuddered, and she would have cried out if it were not for the gag. Her toes curled.

“So responsive. So obedient. Your body knows who your Master is.”

Yes, Master.

How can I walk away from this?

He pushed his fingers inside her. “Again,” he said.

This time the orgasm was stronger, a shiver of contractions as her pussy squeezed his fingers.

He turned his fingers around and pressed on her G-spot. “Again.”

Her body responded. She couldn’t even make herself come so easily.

Then he picked her up. She couldn’t do anything but lie limply in his arms as he carried her. She felt him sit down, and she nestled in his lap, although her ass stung where it rubbed against his hip. He removed the gag, then the blindfold. Even the soft light of the club felt bright for a few seconds, and he used his hand to shade her eyes until she acclimated. He fed her water and drank some himself.

She glanced over to the spanking bench and saw that his friend from the bar was picking up the toys and cleaning the bench. Looking back at Colby, she didn’t trust herself to speak. She didn’t want to tell him she loved him. She certainly didn’t want to tell him she couldn’t take anymore of him without falling helplessly in love. Maybe it was already too late to walk away without it hurting like hell, but it would hurt even worse in a few weeks.

They stayed like that quietly for a long time before he broke the silence. “I want you for longer, Sophia. I can stay here for a few more weeks. We might not have as much time each day, but we can still have some.”

She forced herself to move, wriggling out of his arms and sliding to the rug on the floor, knowing she couldn’t settle for a few more weeks. “Let me service you,” she said, because she didn’t want to respond to his words. She reached out to unzip his pants, gratified to find his cock hard.

“No. I want more.” Colby grabbed her hair and forced her eyes and mouth upward. He looked into her eyes unflinchingly.

“You don’t find my mouth pleasing, Master?”

He didn’t often hesitate, but this time he did. And at last he relented. “Yes, Sophia.” He let go of her. “And you took that all so well and never tried to cover yourself.”

“Then I deserve my reward.” She knelt back on her calves for a moment as she unzipped him, and decided that was a mistake. Her ass stung, and probably would for a while.

She took his cock into her mouth. She knew now what he liked—how he liked it when she licked his balls, what kind of pressure to put on his shaft, how hard to squeeze with her hand. She knew that licking the head slowly was sweet torture for him. She wanted him to come, but she wanted the moment to last as long as possible too, so she teased and aroused him in turn until she felt his hand tighten on the back of her head and knew he’d had enough.

Her lips firmly around his cock, she bobbed quickly. He gave her what she wanted, coming hard deep in her throat, and she swallowed, savoring the whiskey-strong taste of him.

“I want you,” he said when she leaned back—but not too far—with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Again? So soon?” she teased.

“Yes. But for longer. I want you for the next several weeks that I’ll be here. Get my bag for me from the bar, please.”

“Yes, Master.” She got up, aware of how her legs felt. Aware, too, of the way her ass must look. Here she could wear the stripes he gave her with pride, almost as if they were clothing.
Yes, I’m stark naked, but look at my marks.
She walked to the bar, wondering what play Colby had in mind next. The bartender smiled at her.

“Master Colby asked me to fetch his bag,” she said.

“Hot scene,” said the man. “Hot woman. I can see what Colby sees in you. When he goes back, I’m interested if you wish to explore more.” He slung the bag over the bar to her.

When he’s done.
“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Please do.”

The bag was heavy. Colby probably didn’t think so, but Sophia was no weakling, and she still felt it was impossible to be graceful lugging it.
Might as well be a sack of potatoes.
He had turned to watch her, though, so she strove to straighten her posture and deliver the bag with a smile.

“As you were, on the floor.”

She knelt, wondering what toy he was going to bring out.
Nipple clamps, perhaps.

Instead, he brought out a collar, the one she’d glimpsed before. Black leather with red lacing and a broad silver ring that dangled from the front. She imagined it around her neck. She yearned to belong to him. To serve. To go deeper.
Hell, even now he can make me come with his voice and a touch. How much deeper is there to go?

“Sophia, I’d like to have you for the rest of my stay here. And I’d like to give you this as a sign of our contract together.”

Then tonight wouldn’t have to be the end. There would be more.
She wanted it.

She scrunched her face.
And if I say yes now, I would be completely lost. I need much more.
“No, Master.”

“No?” He looked genuinely surprised. And deeply disappointed. She hated disappointing him.

“No. I can’t. Not for a few weeks.”

“For one, then?”

“No.”

“Tomorrow, and then we’ll see?”

Tempting.
“No. I can’t let you put that on my neck, even as much as I want it, unless I have a chance to keep you indefinitely. Not a day, not a week, not a month, not a year. I know you can’t promise me forever. But I’d rather have a long-distance relationship with you than have this just end. I can fly out, once a year. You can visit me. We can find a way—maybe open, maybe not— What am I saying?” She shook her head. “It’s ridiculous and me just not wanting to let go. But I’m losing my heart to you. You said you loved me. If you do, then…keep me for good or help me walk away.”

“My work is back there,” he said.

“I know.”

“Love is an awesome thing, Sophia, and it’s been a long time since I really felt it. But it does not quite conquer all, and distance is… It would be rough on both of us. It would be bad for both of us. And I refuse to be bad for you.”

“And I don’t want to be bad for you either. I want to serve, not be a burden.”

He sighed, and he looked away for a moment before putting the collar back into the bag. He looked sad—a sadness she shared on the inside. But just because two people loved each other and worked well together didn’t mean that they could make everything else work. Not unless they both wanted to. He probably didn’t want to take on raising her kids either. Their lives were too separate.

“Master?” she asked.

He forced a smile and then resumed his usual poker face.
He’s put on the mask of his role again, and that may be the last time I get to see through it.
She went on. “We can go home, if you like. Back to the hotel. To have—to make love.”

“You’ll have to put your dress back on.”

“That is a drawback. But it will come right back off again. And you can make me feel every bruise and welt you’ve given me, Master.”

He chuckled. “Careful. You’ll make me fall more in love with you. But it’s a good idea. Let’s do it.” He picked up his bag, and they both smiled for each other the rest of the evening. Not until she climbed back in her car leaving the hotel did she allow herself a tear.

Chapter Nine

I make a crappy tourist.
Four days later, Colby was in the office of the foundation at one in the afternoon, doing more volunteer work. Each of the last three days, he’d gotten there a little bit earlier. He could almost imagine what Angela would say about his busman’s holiday, but he didn’t care. The two things he liked to do most were topping and helping people, and he found them both more enjoyable than looking at paintings and buildings. When he hung around other lawyers, he frequently missed being on the police force. Cops were more down-to-earth or less cultured or something. He could only enjoy that sort of thing for so long.

And besides, this is a much better distraction from Sophia.
They’d agreed to stay in touch. Colby was half hoping that she would connect with his friend Nick and half hoping not. Nick would be good for her, and he was local. But Colby didn’t really feel like sharing, which was unusual for him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had the month with Sophia that he usually had with a girl.
Maybe it’s because Sophia is special.

He turned his mind back to the work. The politics drove him crazy, but at the foundation, he was surrounded by people who were trying to fix the root of the problem. They were working on lobbying for hate crime legislation and employment nondiscrimination. Not just looking for people to help but looking for people whose cases would establish precedents. It was in many ways more satisfying than what he did at home, where half the time he felt like he was playing whack-a-mole. He loved helping individuals, but having to turn people away was frustrating.

His phone buzzed, letting him know he had an e-mail. He looked at it. “Sir,” she wrote, as she had called him rather than Master since Saturday night. “I am missing you. Part of me wants to ask you to spend another day with me, but I don’t think it would make it better. It is just something I need to get through, and I am sorry for telling you about it. But know that you have had quite an effect on me.”

I should tell her to call Nick. Maybe they’ll work out; maybe they won’t. But maybe it would help her forget me.

The idea of her forgetting him put a knot in his stomach.
When did I get to be so selfish?
He started to text and tell her that he was missing her too and stopped. It wouldn’t help her. It wouldn’t help him. He needed to take care of her, and if being quiet was the way to do that, then he’d be quiet. He turned his phone to silent and started work on the brief he was preparing.

“Colby.”

He looked up. It was Adam, who ran the foundation. The man in front of him was thin, and his hair was neat on one side and frizzed out on the other. In the last week that Colby had known him, Adam’s shirt never failed to look like it needed ironing. But he worked tirelessly, and Colby had learned to respect Adam immensely.