Controlled by His Voice Box Set (Erotic Romance) (13 page)

My pussy is dripping now. I reach my left hand down to let her know she'll get some attention soon, massaging her engorged folds over my hard clit.

I suck as I move my head back. Jake groans. I feel his skin stretch as I move backward, bringing his tip to my lips. I tease my tongue all around it.

Then I move forward again, bringing him all the way back inside me.

I never understood girls who say they don't enjoy this. Either they were lying or they were seriously missing out. There is nothing like the joy of sucking cock.

I move faster, increasing the suction. Jake picks up the pace, bucking his hips.

We keep going like that for a while, then I pull him further to the edge of the bed. He seems a little confused as I stop sucking and look up at him.

"Fuck my face!" I say.

His eyes go wide.

"Huh?" he says.

"Fuck my face! Use my head as your tool!"

I can tell he is simultaneously amazed, aroused, and confused. But he does as told and begins thrusting his cock into my throat.

After a few back-and-forth motions, I lean back.

"No, Jake," I say. "
Fuck
my face! Pound my throat! Grab my hair and fuck my skull hard!"

"Holy shit," he mumbles. "Okay."

He fumbles for my hair, grabs it lightly and pulls. I resume sucking and he resumes thrusting. I growl to signal him to go harder.

He does, but he is hesitant. He is afraid of hurting me so he holds back. I can tell.

Fuck it, this is hopeless. He's not getting it. Let's just fuck.

I push him back away from me and down onto the bed. He still looks confused. I motion for him to get back fully on the bed. He complies.

I sit on top of him and get his cock inside my pussy. She breathes a sigh of relief. I fuck him like that for a while, feeling the intensity build inside me.

He pulls my face down and makes out with me while I bounce on top of him. Soft caresses all around my face. Loving arms all around me.

But something isn't working. I keep losing my steam.
What the fuck? We never had this problem before!

Okay, new tactic.

I scoot off him and to his right side. He takes the hint and climbs on top of me.

He stares deeply into my eyes as he inserts himself into me. He smiles with that warm smile that makes me feel protected, secure, and loved.

"I love you, Meghan," he says as he lightly kisses my cheek.

"Fuck me!" I say.

"Oh, okay," he says with a hint of alarm.

He begins his missionary thrusts as usual, slow and steady.

"Harder!" I say.

He picks up the pace. I feel my orgasm build. There it is.

"Fucking harder!" I say.

His eyes go way wide. He tries to go harder but something holds him back.

God, just pummel me! Stop being so loving and gentle, goddammit!

Okay, try something else, Meghan.

"Call me your tool!" I say.

He freezes.

"My
what?"
he says.

"Your tool! I'm your fuck tool! Fuck me like I'm just a tool! Say it! Say, 'You're my fucking tool! You're here to please me!' Say it!"

"You're my... tool?"

"Oh, Jake, never mind. Just fuck me! Go!"

He resumes his thrusts, a perplexed look on his face. I go with the flow and buck my hips under him.

He leans forward, putting his right hand on my face as he moves inside me. His eyes meet mine. I know he is ready to come, but he always senses my body and waits for me. Such a generous thoughtful man. Always thinking of others.

He thrusts some more. My orgasm rises. He hits the right spot and keeps hitting it, all the while holding deep eye contact.

I'm ready to come and he knows it. But I don't come.

He slows down and stops, just holding himself inside me. He is going to ramp up again. I know him well.

Yep, slow thrusts again. He
is
good. He always gets me off... or at least he always did.

We get back into a rhythm and I ride the edge again. I grunt in the rapture of near-release but I just can't get there. He thrusts harder.

Then I remember.

Of course! Holy fuck, I forgot. I can't come without permission.

Jake is determined. I see the corporate attorney in his eyes. He's hell-bent to make me orgasm.

"Jake," I say, patting him on the arm.

But he doesn't stop. He's focused.

"Jake," I say again.

He keeps going.

"Jake!"

He stops, sweating and out of breath.

"Meghan, what's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing," I said. "I just need to do something."

I pushed his sides away from me. He pulled out and I scooted out away from him, off the bed.

"Do something?" he said. "What the fuck, Meghan? What are you talking about?"

"Just humor me, Jake", I said as I looked for the Bluetooth earpiece. I found it. "I have to go in the bathroom for a second."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Hold that thought. We're not done. I just have to do something. Trust me, Jake."

"Okay," he said, shaking his head.

I went in the bathroom and locked the door. I turned the light on, put the toilet seat down, and sat on it.

I put the Bluetooth earpiece in my ear and pressed the button.

I waited.

No click. I pressed the button again.

Nothing.

Shit, what do I do?

The prepaid phone! I went to the door, unlocked it, and went back out to my bag on the counter.

Jake had turned the TV back on and was sitting up. He looked at me inquisitively. On the screen, Ilsa and Victor Lasczlo were arriving at Rick's Cafe to get the letters of transit.

"Are you all right?" Jake said.

"Yes," I said. "Just one sec."

I found the prepaid phone and ran back to the bathroom. I avoided the mirror because I didn't want to see what I looked like.

I dialed the number. Voicemail.
Shit.

I put the Bluetooth back in and tapped it again. Nothing.

I turned toward the window and looked out. At least three inches of snow had accumulated.
What am I going to do? I can't stay in this bathroom all day. I'll just have to fake an orgasm, I guess.

The Bluetooth earpiece clicked to life.

"Hello, Meghan," said the rich velvety voice of Tristan Slade. My heart skipped a beat.

"Mentor," I said.

"Yes?"

I took a deep breath.

"Mentor... may I come please?"

"Are you alone?"

Should I lie? No, he'll know.

"No."

"Who are you with?"

I clenched my teeth.

"Jake", I said.

"Who?" he said.

"Jake. My boyfriend. Well, my ex-boyfriend."

There was a long pause. A very long pause.
Did he hear me?

"Mentor?" I said. "Are you still there?"

"I'm still here," he said.
Is that irritation in his voice?
"Is he there now?"

"Yes."

Another long pause.

"Fine," he said. "Go ahead. I give you permission to come."

The line went dead with a click that was louder than usual. It even made me jump.

I jumped again when I turned around to see Jake standing in the open doorway, leaning on the jamb with his arms folded. He had his shorts back on.
Shit, I forgot to lock the door when I went back in with the prepaid phone. Shit!

"Mentor, may I come please?" said Jake in an even tone.

The words sounded so strange coming out of his mouth.

I just stood there. I couldn't speak. My mouth hung open.

"Who is mentor?" he said. "And why are you asking somebody on the phone for permission to come?"

"I..." I said, but that's all I could get out. I began to tremble.

"And Meghan, what are those marks on your backside?"

I turned to look at myself in the mirror. There they were. The marks from the flogging. All over my ass and back. Thin red lines.

"Jake," I said. "I've been... uh..."

"Meghan," he said. "Don't. Don't say anything."

He turned and went into the bedroom.

"Jake," I said, my voice shaky, "there's a reason... for all this."

He was putting his pants on.

"Meghan, don't bother. I don't want to hear it. I really don't want to know."

He put his shirt on, started to button it up, then stopped. He threw his jacket on over it, stuffed his wallet and keys in his pockets and moved toward the door.

"Jake," I said, "please don't go."

"Meghan, I
have
to go. You know why I have to go? Because I don't know whose apartment I'm in. I don't recognize the person looking at me right now. You've changed. You're not Meghan anymore. At least not the one I knew and loved."

He put on his overcoat and stepped his feet into his shoes. He put his hand on the knob, then turned back. His eyes met mine.

"You're into some bad shit, Meghan. I don't know what it is, but it's bad. And the truth is I don't even want to know what it is because it's fucking sick. The way you acted in bed, those marks on your ass, and now you have to call somebody to ask for permission to orgasm?! God, that's fucked up! That is seriously fucked up. Meghan, you need help. Goodbye."

"Jake," I said.

But he was out the door and gone.

I went to the window and watched his figure as it drifted up the street in the snow. Part of me wanted to run naked and screaming after him. But another part of me... a new part I didn't fully recognize yet... kept me still. Eventually I couldn't see him anymore.

"We'll always have Paris," said Rick to Ilsa at the foggy airport. I found the TV remote and flipped it off.

I drifted in a daze back to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror.

Jake is right.

I don't recognize the person staring back at me either.

Controlled by His Voice 4

Chapter 1

My Sentra wasn't very good on snowy roads anymore. My tires were old and out of alignment. My right wiper's rubber thingy that touches the glass was flip-flopping all over the place.

It's okay, Meghan. You're almost there. Breathe!

The plows were out and I could only make about 35 mph on Route 128. I didn't see many other cars. Normal people, unlike me, stayed home when all the TV news stations made predictions of ten inches or more of snow.

But I was obsessed.

I had been calling my mentor Tristan for two hours and he wasn't picking up.
What the fuck? Is he mad at me?

He must be. Earlier this afternoon, I called him to ask permission to orgasm with another man.

But Tristan and I aren't together. I'm his
Submissive training
student. Not only that, he clearly stated that he doesn't have relationships with his students.

So what the fuck am I so concerned about? Why am I driving my rickety old car in the middle of a blizzard to his seaside estate in Manchester-by-the-Sea?

Shit, I hadn't even thought about what I'm going to do when I get there. Am I just going to pound on the door?

What if he's not home? What if he's in New York or L.A. or wherever billionaire entrepreneur TV stars go during the week? How the fuck am I going to get home?

I just couldn't get over the feeling that I had done something wrong... that I had breached our trust or something. I had to know... I was fucking
driven
to know... if he was mad at me.

Because I don't want to lose him.

Shit, that's it, isn't it? I don't want to lose him. Fuck, I'm in deep.

And I'm not quite sure why.

It's not like Tristan and I have any kind of normal communication. I know nothing about him except for the fact that he lives in the most goddamned gorgeous place I've ever seen.

I tried researching his past but Wikipedia and other sites mention alarmingly little about his private life. It's all about what he's accomplished... his publishing empire, his real estate projects, his TV show.

Nothing about where he came from except for the fact that he was born August 12, 1976 to Ralph and Louisa Sladzcyk of Elgin, Ohio. He attended Harvard for a degree in economics and then earned his MBA from the Wharton School.

He started his career working for Hewlett-Packard. Then after a four-year stint at some company named Z-Fire, he started his own. Today it's one of the top discount retailers, known all over planet Earth, selling everything from books to toasters to mining equipment through a network of hundreds of vendors. And somewhere along the line, he changed his name from Sladzcyk to Slade.

That's it. That's all anyone knows about this mystery man.

Except for me, of course. I know that he puts up flyers advertising for college girls to sign up for submissive training. Then he mind-fucks them by having them put on masturbatory shows in public, hiding butt plugs up their asses as they steal from adult stores, and straps them to Puritan stockades while he flogs them to orgasm.

A Ford Taurus tried passing me but hit a patch of ice and started to spin out. I screamed, tapping on the brake only to find myself skidding.

The Taurus came to a halt directly in front of me but I couldn't stop. My instincts took over, steering me into the fast lane around him without checking to see if there was an oncoming car. I held my breath as I passed. Then I moved back over to the right and slowed down again.

My heart was in my throat, but I was okay. I looked in my rearview mirror. The Taurus was straightening himself out.

Shit, that was close. Probably shouldn't be out today. No,
definitely
shouldn't be out today.

But I think I've gone insane. This must be what insane people do. I bet the Taurus driver was probably on his or her own demented mission.

I took the exit to Manchester-by-the-Sea. This was going to be the tricky part. All the narrow New England back roads that wind up and down hills on the way to the ocean.

After a few harrowing slip-and-slides around corners, I was on the path through the trees that ended at the little peninsula of rock that was his property.

Two cars were parked out front. Both SUVs. One red, the other black.

Shit, does he have a guest? Fuck, what if it's his girlfriend? If he even has a girlfriend.

Or worse, what if it's one of his other students? What if she's in the stockade getting whipped and licked to orgasm right now? Fuck, I hadn't thought of that. What should I do?

I pulled in tight to the trees and killed my engine. I watched the house. The snow kept falling. A lot of it. After just a minute, I had to turn the key and put the wipers on just to see his front door.

So am I just going to sit here and freeze my ass off? Or am I going to go to the door?

Think, Meghan!

That's the problem. I seem to have lost the ability to think or reason like a normal human being. Shit, there I go with that fucking word
normal
again.

I had a flash of Jake disappearing up the street into the snow. When was that? Two hours ago? Three hours ago?

He looked so forlorn and defeated as he walked away.

Because of me.

I
did that to him. I sent him off.

And for what?

For
this?

For this sadistic control freak I barely know?

Yes, dammit!
For
this
guy. Because he brings me to places I never reached. Because I know there is so much more we can achieve together. Because I know I am on his level of... what?...
sexual adventure?...
and want to go along with him on the ride.

I felt like I had cheated on him by being with Jake. I had been drinking and a warm flood of all that Jake and I had meant to each other came rushing back to me. I fell back into it.

And now I felt guilty for it.

Shut up, Meghan! Just go!
I leaped out of my car and walked up to the door. The round driveway swayed a little. Or was that me?

I stared at the doorbell for a minute. If I ring it, will he be mad? Am I violating the rules? Was there something in the contract about personal space?

I turned around to walk back to the car but turned around yet again and rang the bell. I heard nothing.

My heart started to beat fast. I looked at the windows. No sign of movement. No warm glow from soon-to-be-illegal tungsten bulbs.

I rang the bell again. Shit, why did I do that? That was impatient.

Now I'm acting like a stalker, aren't I? Fuck, I hadn't thought of that. I had a stalker once and it was no fun. Now I'm doing the same thing.

I leaned back and looked up at the house. Snowflakes fell into my eyes. Still no lights. No sound.

Something told me to get back to my car. I don't know what, just a gut instinct.

Once back inside, I turned on the wipers again and stared at the house.

Nothing. No movement.

Okay, Meghan, time to do something. He's obviously not here. You've got to drive back to Somerville.

Fuck, that's another two hours back in this snow. What was I thinking?

My senses caught movement before my eyes actually saw it. Something was happening.

I didn't want to turn my wipers on again to alert attention to myself so I didn't. Fuck, that makes no sense. My Sentra itself just sitting there is alerting attention to myself.

I took the chance and put the wipers on. The front door had opened. Standing on the step was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. And Tristan.

I felt a wrench inside my gut, tightening around my esophagus. My hands gripped the steering wheel tight. My feet dug into the fraying floor carpet.

What is she? Black? No. Asian? No. Mocha skin, big lips, black curly hair. About twenty-two. Latina maybe? Brazilian? I couldn't place the ethnic background, but whatever she was I can't compete with that. She's goddamned perfect.

They said something to each other and she turned around to walk to her red SUV. I saw her glance over at my car for a split second. Tristan was looking at me too.

She got in her SUV with its big monster tires that could probably glide over the entire storm like it was nothing and drove away. Leaving me alone in my little Sentra staring at Tristan.

Who was staring at me.

A wave of embarrassment hit me. I wanted to die. I wished for a heart attack or stroke to take me to the great beyond.

I was caught.

Caught stalking.

The wave of embarrassment was immediately replaced by a wave of anger. I opened my car door and stepped out, never breaking eye contact with my mentor.

"Meghan, what are you doing?" he said. "Why are you here?"

"Is that your girlfriend?" I said.

"Meghan, there's a snowstorm."

"Just tell me, is she your girlfriend?"

"No, she's not. And Meghan, we went over this. There are many people in my life."

"Oh, so she's one of your students." I tried not to sound so sarcastic, but I couldn't help it. "Just another young girl to teach orgasms to. Hey, you know what?"

He just looked at me.

"What, Meghan?"

I didn't actually have a
you-know-what
so I just let out a guttural scream that echoed across the parking area.

I got back in the car, slammed the door shut, and started the engine. I drove past him as I turned around in the circular driveway.

He was out and running after me as I pulled out. I could lip read my name being shouted as he charged after me in my rearview mirror.

Fuck, Meghan.

Fuck!

That accomplished nothing.

Except for the fact that I saw... who?
Her,
that's who! Whoever she is, she was with him today. And she's goddamned gorgeous.

It took me forty-five minutes just to get back to the highway. It was going to be a long slog home. The visibility had gotten worse.

Not to mention it was getting dark. I would soon be encased in a snow bubble lit only by my headlights. I drove in this before and it's nerve-wracking because you don't actually know where you are. And you can't tell what lane you're in because all the stripes get covered with snow.

So I die.

So what?

Who gives a fuck?

I've made a mess of my life anyway. I'll just go join my mother and hopefully land in the Kingdom of Jehovah.

Shit no, The Big Man
definitely
won't let me in after my recent deviant behavior. I'm going to a different place. I just hope He doesn't tell my mom what I've done.

I held the steering wheel tight and focused on the road. What little road there was, anyway. It's not so bad. I can make it.
I can make it!

Almost as I said that to myself, a giant plow truck was in front of me. And another one to its left. Both going much slower than me.

I slammed on my brakes. You're not supposed to do that in snow, but I had to. I was going too fast.

I felt an odd sensation, like somebody picked up the world and tipped it on its side. Things got very hazy and I drifted into a dream. I floated over mountaintops looking down at craggy peaks and pastures in the valley beyond.