Jane Shoup (9 page)

“Why not?”

She shook her head.
“He’s…special. It’s private.”

“If he’s so special, why
isn’t he here?”

She swallowed. “He is
special,” she insisted. “Almost too good to be true.”

“Maybe he’s a liar, a
phony, just like Mitch. Maybe that’s what you really like.”

“He is nothing like Mitch,”
she said with the first flare of defiance. “He has honor, a good heart.”

She pulled away from him
and he had to restrain her for fear she’d yank off the blindfold.

“He’s real,” she continued
her rant. “And warm and loving. He is nothing, nothing like Mitch. Nothing!”

Ryan was stunned. When
she’d said he was nothing like Mitch, she’d meant it in a
positive
way.
It was he who had misunderstood. He got up and straightened his clothing. For
the first time, the deception felt painful. He reached in his pocket for two
hundred dollar bills, left them on the bed and left without another whispered
word.

* * * *

Jenny slipped off the
blindfold a while later, saw the money, and then curled up in a fetal position.
This was wrong. It was thrilling and arousing while it happened, but she felt
like shit afterwards. Thursday would absolutely be the last time. After that,
memories and fantasies would have to sustain her when she felt kinky.

Chapter Eight

Jenny answered the door and
smiled at the sight of Ryan standing there with a bunch of daisies. “And where
did you get daisies in December?”

He held them out for her.
“I know this florist.”

She took them and stepped
back to allow him in. He kissed her cheek as he brushed past her.

“Maybe I could borrow a few
later,” he said.

“For what?”

“The test. You know, she
loves me, she loves me not
—
”

Jenny’s ducked her head over
the bouquet. He may have meant it as a joke, but it was too close to the truth
for comfort. “She loves you,” she said, attempting a light voice. “You don’t
have to destroy my daisies.”

He smiled. “Well, in that
case…” He stepped in for a real kiss. “I thought with not wanting to see me
yesterday,” he said afterwards.

“Ryan, that wasn’t it.
Look, I let someone devastate me not too long ago, and I didn’t feel for him
what I already
—
” She broke off, blushing deeply, but his expression
melted her trepidation. “–feel for you,” she finished weakly.

“You don’t have to protect
yourself against me, Jenny. I’m not him. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The buzzer went off in the
kitchen. “Saved by the bell,” she quipped. “I’ve got to get that or the bread
will burn.”

He let her go and followed
her into the kitchen. “So, Christmas is in a few days,” he said, trying to keep
his tone light. “Are we going to spend some of it together?” He was satisfied
that he’d sounded calm and low key. Of course, he’d practiced asking the
question about a thousand times today.

She was glad to be turned
away from him, busy with pulling out the French bread. “My family has a get
together on Christmas Eve. It’s an afternoon to evening thing. Would you like
to come?” It was stupid for her heart to be beating like this. She turned to
look at him, trying hard to guard her hopeful expression.

“Would that be okay with
your folks?” he asked.

She smiled broadly. “Of
course. Yes.”

“Then I’d love to. I want
to know who you get those eyes from.”

She was glowing again, she
just knew it. “My mother. I look a lot like my mother.”

Jenny went to pour them a
glass of the red wine that had been breathing and chilling slightly. Ryan sat
at the table. “So far this evening is perfect,” he observed. “I’ve gotten all
the answers I wanted.”

She walked over and handed
him a glass. “Well, we aim to please.”

“It’s easy to be with you,”
he said in all earnestness.

She reached down and kissed
his cheek without even thinking, then went back to check on the stuffed peppers
before he noticed what a fourteen-year-old she was.

“Anyway, that’s Christmas
Eve taken care of,” he ventured. “What about Christmas Eve Eve?”

She laughed. “We don’t have
a tradition for that.”

“You want to make one?”

* * * *

Dinner turned out well,
which thrilled Jenny since she wasn’t much of a cook. Afterwards, they played
two-handed spades and finished the bottle of wine. He took his leave at eleven,
kissing her with warmth and restrained passion at the door. “Am I pushing it if
I ask to see you tomorrow?” he asked.

She felt a pang of dread.
She really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I have something to do tomorrow,”
she replied apologetically.

He made a face, but then
countered it. “Okay. No pouting this time. Friday?” he tried again.

She grinned. “You’re going
to get burned out on me,” she warned.

“Oh yeah, that’s going to
happen,” he returned, kissing her on her nose.

* * * *

December 21

Ryan stood in the dim, old
laundry room trying to steel himself. They couldn’t keep going like this, but
he couldn’t be the one to leave her. Not after the damage Mitch Crow had done.
He didn’t want to stop their adventures at all, but it was inevitable. It was a
damned shame because he’d unmasked a powerful desire that would never leave
him. How could he ever act on it again? In real life, there was too much risk
of rejection and shame.

Tonight, he had to push too
hard, go too far. He had to force her to reject him. He picked up his cell and
pushed in her number.

“Hello?” she answered after
three rings.

“Come down to the laundry
room.”

Jenny blinked. It was
Thursday night and she’d been expecting the call, but she hadn’t expected this.
Of course, it might make ending things easier. “All right.”

* * * *

It was snowing outside, and
damp and chilly in the basement. She wore jeans and a red sweater, and she was
still shivering. She didn’t pass a soul as she went into the old laundry room,
to the designated spot. “I’m here,” she announced.

It took a minute before she
heard him approaching with a quiet step. Funny, everything about him was quiet,
and yet he made her feel more explosive than she’d ever felt. She could whirl
around and see him. It would precipitate the ending that needed to occur.
I
should do it.
She trembled from the effort to make herself turn.

Too late. He reached her
and wrapped a blindfold–a real blindfold this time–around her eyes. “I went
shopping for you,” he whispered when the blindfold was secure. “Take off those
jeans.”

She fumbled with the button
and zipper, kicked off her shoes and went about pulling off her jeans. It was
awkward.

“Knowing what I was going
to do to you, it was foolish to wear that,” he chastised.

“I came down to talk,” she
explained. “There’s—”

“Take off those panties,”
he interrupted. “And don’t talk.”

She swallowed and obeyed.
She did have to tell him, but it didn’t have to be right this second. He stood
in front of her, doing something. She cocked her head, trying to tell what it
was. He walked back around her, so close she could feel his body heat. He put a
warm hand on the back of her neck and leaned close to whisper, “You say you
came to talk, but you take off your clothes for me.”

She tried to come up with a
reply, but he had a valid point.

“You came to be fucked. You
came to be my plaything...knowing exactly what I want. Knowing I want to
control you completely. Admit it.”

She hesitated and then
nodded.

“There’s a blanket on the
dryer. Lean over it,” he commanded.

“It’s cold down here,” she
said.

“You won’t be cold for
long. And I told you not to talk.”

She heard a strange whish
and then felt the biting sting of a dozen, soft leather thongs on her bare ass.
Before she could react, even to cry out, she felt it again from the opposite
direction. He had a whip and was swinging it side to side, striking her hips
and buttocks, setting them on fire. It was a different sensation than being
spanked, and it frightened her.

She attempted to stand, but
he forced her back down and kept one hand on her back while bringing the whip
down on her ass and the back of her legs.

“I don’t like this,” she
cried.

“You will do as I want.
Your ass is mine. Remember?” He delivered another blow. He wasn’t putting much
force into it, just enough to make her sting and throb. Just enough to push her
too far. After a few more strikes, he stopped. “There’s a pillow on the floor.
Kneel on it and suck my cock.”

She was relieved the
whipping had ended. She squatted down, felt around for the pillow, and knelt on
it. He was standing in front of her, his erect cock already exposed and at the
ready. She took it in hand and stroked it, preparing to take it into her mouth,
but it suddenly hit her that this was too intimate an act. For him to touch her
was one thing
—
but for her to take him in her mouth, it was too intimate.
It was cheating on Ryan. The thought sobered her. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I told you…someone’s come
into my life. I’m…sorry.” There was silence for an uncomfortable minute and
then she felt him back away.

“What are you saying?” he
asked.

“Some things are too
personal,” she said in a small voice. It sounded feeble and she knew it.

“Too personal,” he
repeated. “I see.”

Did he? Or was he being
sarcastic again? She felt him come close. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“Get up,” he said. He
lifted on her arms, helping her to her feet. “I was too hard on you. Is that
it?”

“No, I
—
”

“Steady yourself on the
dryer while I get your things.”

She was stunned that it had
been so easy. She almost felt disappointed. So, that was it. It had been a
crazy adventure that no one would ever know about. She breathed out slowly,
trying to control the ache of disappointment that filled her chest. He’d given
in so easily, he must have been ready to end things, too. What was wrong with
her that she felt sad about that?

It was because he’d claimed
to adore her. Hadn’t he said she was the only woman he’d marry? It had all been
bullshit. Plus, if Ryan left her, she’d have no one and nothing. She wouldn’t
even have a way of getting in touch with him.

She felt cold metal around
a wrist and a second later, her hand was behind her back. Before she fully
realized she’d been slapped into handcuffs, her other hand was secured. “What
are you doing?”

“You chose this,” he hissed
in her ear. “You chose to make yourself my plaything. Now, I’m going to play.”
He raised her sweater up, unhooked her bra and fondled her breasts. “I may
march you upstairs like this and continue in your apartment all night.”

“And you may be arrested,
too,” she threatened. She sounded angry, but anger didn’t explain the wild
beating of her heart. It didn’t explain her pussy growing wet.

“And what would the charges
be?” he mocked. “This has all been consensual, and you know it. Now, stop
talking and concentrate on your first ass fucking.”

She stiffened. “Oh, no,”
she said breathily.

“Oh, yes.” He reached for
the oil he’d purchased and began slicking it on himself.

“I told you, I don’t do
that.”

He pushed her forward,
bending her over the dryer. “And I told you, this ass is mine.”

“No!”

“I’m going to rub some nice
oil
—
”

“I said no!” But he was in control.
He massaged oil into and around her tight hole. She puckered her behind, trying
to keep him out.

He chuckled. “I hope you
squeeze like that when I’m inside you.”

He inserted another oiled
finger up her and the pressure was strange and uncomfortable. “I’ll scream,”
she threatened. “If you don’t s-stop.”

“If you do, people will
come in and see me fucking your ass. Do you want an audience?”

“Don’t do this,” she
begged.

“I’ll go slowly, very
slowly. The hardest part is getting the head in.”

He withdrew his fingers and
pushed his hard cock at her. “Please,” she whimpered in fear.

“You like me touching and
kissing your ass. You like me spanking it. You’re going to like this after you
get used to it. Relax. It’ll make it easier.” He carefully pushed inside her.

The pressure was
tremendous, and she could do nothing except endure.

It was the most arousing
sight in the world to see himself disappear inside her. It was torture to move
so slowly, but he would do it for her. He needed to push her too far, but he didn’t
want her hurt. “See,” he breathed after the head of his cock got beyond the
sphincters muscle. “That’s better now, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t speak. The
feeling was so strange and intense. He was all the way in, and she’d never felt
so filled. He withdrew part of the way only to fill her again.

“Next time I want that
dildo in your pussy while I do this,” he grunted. The thought was so erotic, it
nearly pushed him to the edge.

“Oh, it’s good. It’s so
good,” he groaned, trying to last. He felt a wave rising and knew he had no
choice but to go with it. The pressure was too great, the excitement too much.
He managed two hard thrusts and then came.

He withdrew and turned her
around to face him. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but the fear she would
recognize him by feel stopped him. “It’s all over. You survived it.”

He lifted her up onto the
dryer and she felt a pillow propped behind her. He pulled her legs out and
apart, tipping her backwards against the pillow and went down on her. His mouth
was aggressive, his appetite for her insatiable. He licked, sucked, and tongued
her to orgasm and beyond, until she begged him to stop. She was sensitive and
his tongue was not.

He finally pulled back.
“Your ass was fucked tonight,” he whispered. “And I’m going to do it again on
Christmas Eve.” He paused, expecting her to object. “It’ll be your gift,” he
continued when she did not.

She licked her lips
nervously, her mind in turmoil. She couldn’t see him on Christmas Eve. She
couldn’t see him anymore. She had to tell him.

He made a sound. Laughter?
“Come to think of it,” he said, “-it’ll be my gift. So, don’t get me anything
else. All I want is that and for you to call me by name without being coaxed.”
He kissed the inside of her thigh. “Did you do your assignment?”

Maybe the truth was, she
couldn’t
not
see him. “Yes.”

“And what had you chosen
for me to use on your sweet bottom?”

“A hairbrush.”

“Not very original, but
it’ll be good. Does it have a wide head?”

“Yes.”

“Did you try it on
yourself?”

She nodded.

“Did you have on clothes or
did you use it on your bare skin?”

“Bare skin.”

“Good. Very good. How many
times?”

“A few. Three.”

“Hard?”

She hesitated.“Medium.”

“I can’t wait to use it.”
He kissed her knee. “Your ass was so tight tonight. I’m going to be thinking
about it every minute until I see you again. Did you like it?”

She shook her head
tentatively.

He sensed there was more
she held back. “But?”

“I guess…it wasn’t as
horrible as I thought it would be.”

“I own you, Jenny.”

The words gripped and
silenced her.

“You are mine and you will
do what you are told. When I reveal myself to you, you will be mine in public
and in private.”

Her mind raced. In public?
Did he really plan on them having an open relationship, because she couldn’t do
that.

“In private, you will call
me Master,” he continued. “Do you understand?” He watched her react to this.
He’d made her nervous tonight, but he hadn’t pushed her to the breaking point
yet. What would it take? He was sure anal sex would have pushed her over the
edge. “I asked you a question,” he warned.

“Yes. I understand.”

Maybe there was no breaking
point. What would he do
—
what would
they
do if that were the case?
“In public, we’ll be discreet, although I like to live on the edge. I might
take you to a five star restaurant, hand you my spoon and demand to taste you.
What will you do then?”

Her throat was too tight to
speak.

“You,” he continued, “will
take the spoon under the table, spread your legs and rub yourself. You will
coat it and then feed it to me.” He pulled on her arms, easing her forward.
“I’ll uncuff you now and kiss all the marks on your bottom. Would you like
that?”

She nodded.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

She frowned, not sure she
was up to this. “Master,” she whispered. Somehow that was easier than saying it
full voice.

“That’s so difficult for
you, isn’t it?” He eased her forward and set her on the ground. Slowly, he
turned her around to uncuff her. “How about
Lord
? I’m your dark lord,
just like in the olden days. Men used to own their women, just like I own you.”
He freed one hand and placed it on the side of the dryer. “Don’t move your
hand.” He freed the other hand and placed it on the other side. He lowered
himself down and ran a tongue over the red marks on her backside. He planted
kisses and ran light fingertips over her warm skin. Occasionally, he’d finagle
his hands between her legs and check to see how wet her pussy was. Oh, yes.
He’d get another fucking in this evening. “I got some other toys for you. I
can’t wait to use them on you.”