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Cover Design:
Kerry Heavens

Image: Dollar
Photo Club

Editor:
Henrietta Davies

Proof Reader:
Mandi Gibala

For
Pet &
Pup

CONTROL IS EVERYTHING

“On your
knees.”

I drop
without hesitation, eyes fixed on the floor.

“I don’t have
time for this today. I’m a very busy man.”

“I’m sorry,
Sir.”

“Did I ask
for you to speak?” The warning in his tone stops me from uttering the requisite,
‘no Sir.’

“I thought
not. Don’t test me. This is enough of an inconvenience as it is.” He steps
behind me and fists my hair. I hiss at the sting but a shiver breaks out. “This
is not a walk in service. I have business to attend to, which is now on hold
because of your ‘needs’. What do you have to say for yourself?”

My breathing
is rapid as I debate whether to speak now or wait for his order. He asked me a
direct question, but I’ve already been warned once. His fingers tighten in my
hair and I decide to go for it. “I called ahead, your secretary said you had a
small window... It was urgent, Sir.”

“Indeed I
have, but this was not how I planned to use it. Be grateful I don’t have time
for punishment today. On your feet,” he demands, assisting me to comply with a
sharp tug to his fist full of hair. “Strip,” he orders.

He circles me
as I remove my clothes, laying them over the back of the oxblood Chesterfield
sofa so that they will still be pristine when I put them back on. He allows me
this as he knows I also have important business today and I can’t look
dishevelled. Eyeing my naked form, he once again moves behind me, running a
hand over the curve of my bottom before delivering a sharp smack. My body,
wound tight with tension, twitches.

“I had
fifteen minutes, we have used six of them, discussing your insolence. Bend over
my desk.”

I do as he
says, laying my chest in the centre against the leather inlay in the highly
polished walnut. Automatically my wrists cross at the small of my back in the
way he prefers. He places his phone in front of my face, the timer running
counting down to zero from fifteen minutes.

I listen to
the sound of his belt slipping through its buckle and being drawn out of its
loops. The distinctive clink of the buckle as he folds the length in half, sets
my nerves alight. I know the sting is coming, but my body still jolts when it
strikes my exposed rear. I draw in a sharp breath and savour the feeling.

“You will be
tied to my cross next time so that I can take my time with you. I have some new
toys I wish to try. We’ll see if you can keep your control while I work you
over with my new whip. For now, this will have to do. Now count,” he commands
impatiently.

“One,” I say
loud and clear, knowing what’s expected of me.

The second
crack of the belt lands precisely over the first for maximum effect.

“Two.” I
breathe out as soon as it hits.

“Louder.” he
demands.

Three and four are each harder than the
last and I choke out the words, making sure I can be heard. I gasp as the burn
fills my brain and the animal inside me that I try to bury deep comes rushing
towards the surface.

“One more,”
he murmurs and lands the belt in perfect precision so that I will be left with
only one angry welt across my arse and I’ll feel it for days.

I grunt,
drawing in air, fighting to stay in control. Then I finally say in a calm voice,
“five.”

His hand at
my neck startles me and I bite back the urge to growl. He slips the end of the
leather under my neck and wraps it around, feeding it through the buckle until
it is drawn tight against my skin. I swallow, feeling the resistance and try to
focus on the timer in front of me. He pulls on the belt, lifting my head
slightly off the desk and wraps the long end once around my wrists, clamping it
there with his strong hand. I’m held tightly in his grip, knowing if I relax
too much, the belt will tighten. I can feel the pressure change behind my eyes,
I don’t feel faint yet but if it tightens more, I know I will. I adjust my
stance to take the pressure off and he kicks my feet apart further, reminding
me he’s in charge.

I hear the
desk drawer beside me slide open and then his hand traces the line between my
cheeks, slick with lube. His thumb circles my hole. I’m breathing hard, willing
him to push it inside. I need to be taken away from the chaos to find some
order.

‘
Fill me
.’ I want to say…need to say. Yet
the command stops at my lips. Keeping it in requires a good deal of my
remaining control.

But he knows
what I need, letting his thumb fall away and his cock lines up in its place. “You’ve
had nine minutes,” he says surging forward.

I bite down
on my lip to restrain the sound that threatens to rip from me as his length
fills my rear in one merciless stroke. He pulls back, gasping as his cock is
caressed firmly by my tight hole. Reaching around as he sinks in to me again,
his hand grasps my own rigid cock.

“Jesus boy,
you think you can last?” He pants, ploughing into me again.

I remain
silent, earning a yank on the belt. “I asked you a question boy! Do you think
you can last?”

“Yes Sir.” I
pant.

He leans over
me to see the time on the phone. “Five minutes boy, it’s going to be tough.”

He’s right,
it is. He sets a strong rhythm, holding the belt and my wrists tight while he
strokes my cock with his lubed hand.

“You’d better,”
he warns

I try and
breathe, watching the timer for all that I’m worth. If I close my eyes I’ll
succumb. I can feel the beast clawing for release, but I won’t cave. This is
where I find the ultimate control, when I’m pushed to the edge and I can find
my release without letting him win.

Control. It’s
everything. And if I can keep it here of all places, then I know it’s real.

I moan as his
hand moves in time to his invading cock and I feel his hot breath on my back.
He’s working me hard, every cell in my body responds to his firm assault and
begs for the release it needs.

He pulls me
up so that my weight is supported only by his hold on me and that pulls the
belt tighter.
My vision starts to blur and I blink to focus on
the time. Three minutes. My eyes start to close. I control the panic and
breathe through the restriction, embracing it. His cock nudges my prostate in
this position and I almost lose it. He knows it too and his sadistic chuckle
brings back my fight as he ups the pace. His hand tightens around my cock and
he works it faster, knowing I’m close.

That’s when I
lose myself. I feel my control slip and I bare my teeth as an animal growl
escapes. But I will not lose control. I will not. My eyes snap open and through
my blurred vision I see I’m on the final minute. The numbers fly by while he
pounds my arse.

“Are you
ready to let go Max?” He goads.

“With your
permission Sir.” I manage through laboured breathing.

“Good boy.”
He pants.

He pushes me
back down against the desk, the belt tightening once more around my neck, and
drives home with all he has. I’m aware of the shift in my eyes and I battle
with it as the seconds go down.

“Ten,” he
grunts. “You can let go when I say zero.”

Fighting for
air so I can stay in control, I try to block out the way he feels reaming me.
My legs are shaking and I can sense the shift upon me. But it won’t win, it can’t,
I won’t allow it.

“Six,” he
hisses. His hand stills, but his grip on my cock stays firm. He fucks me harder,
“five, four, three...” I feel it building. “Three,” he repeats with mirth. “Three,
three!”

The alarm
sounds on his phone but still he drives into me. My hips start slinging my cock
into his tight fist, desperate for the promised release.

“Three,” he
whispers, close to my ear,

I snarl and
he slams inside extra deep, with a snarl of his own. “Four,” he snaps, but I
can hear the victory in his tone that he has delayed my release for a few
seconds more as punishment.

“Three,” he
counts again.

“Two,” the
relief in his tone is obvious, he is only one thrust away.

“One,” leaves
his mouth as a low, strangled sound as he erupts into me.

And still I
wait. His cock twitches deep inside as he delivers his load and in that prolonged
second, I fight the beast within harder than ever before. His hand springs into
action and with one final thrust he whispers, “zero.”

I close my
eyelids over my altered eyes and let go. The pleasure I had been fighting
washes over me and I accept it with a moan. His pulsating cock still moving
inside me as I unload in his hand. I gasp, in need of more air than I’ve been
allowed and his grip on the belt releases. I slump against the desk breathing
hard and trembling. He withdraws and slips the belt carefully from around my
neck, before disappearing into his bathroom.

A few moments
later he strides out looking completely together with everything, including his
belt, back in place. He runs a finger across the welt his belt left and I
wince. Then he pulls me up and turns me to face him. I meet his eyes and he
assesses me for a moment. A hint of a smile touches his lips as he knows I got
what I came for. “I have a meeting and you’re making me late. Get dressed,” he
says in a gruff tone and steps aside to let me pass.

A few minutes
later, I emerge from his bathroom, pristine again in my usual fashion. He slips
files into his briefcase for his meeting and I glance at my watch and see that
I need to get moving too.

“You’ll make
an appointment next time.” He tells me, without looking up from his papers.

I grin. “Uh
huh,” I reply as I head out the door. I pull his office door closed behind me
and wink at his secretary. She blushes, poor girl. She must see some things.

I realise how
that looked. It looked like I just got my arse owned. But that’s not how it
went down. The first thing you need to know about me is that I control
everything.

Everything.

I say when, I
say how.

That hook up
doesn’t happen very often, but I needed it today. Things have been building up,
I’m in danger of losing control and that can’t happen.

I straighten
my tie and step back out onto the busy Mayfair street. Surrounded by people, I
feel together again. The well-heeled elite, going about their day have no clue
how easy they have it. And I’m not talking about the money that flows from
their designer pockets.

Humans. That’s
what I mean. Lucky, simple bastards. Nothing to hide, nothing to fight. Just to
be, how great is that? Sure they still find ways to complicate life, but really
they don’t have a clue what complication is.

Try being a
wolf in this city. Yes, they are here among you. Not in huge numbers, not like
elsewhere in the world. As a rule, wolves prefer to live where they can run,
but some need to be here, providing services.

My family is
one such family. For almost three centuries, the McQueens have provided a safe
financial institution for our kind. So while I may look like one of the many
young, sharply dressed city boys, be sure of one thing. The wolf is never far
away.

And that’s
the least of my problems.

I cross the
busy road and walk a few hundred yards down the most prestigious mile in the
city and enter my bank. The vaulted ceiling in the gilded entrance never fails
to draw my eye. This is home, my domain.

I check my
watch and enter my code in the door. Our meeting starts in five minutes and I
need to go to my office to collect a file.

I arrive at
the boardroom as our guests are being shown in. My father greets his friend
warmly and they shake hands and enquire about each other’s wives, even though
rarely a week passes where they don’t dine together at least twice. I wink at
his secretary who is here to take notes. She blushes, poor girl.

He turns to
me and smiles that knowing smile of his. “Max,” he nods in greeting.

“Good to see
you again Sir.” I grin.

See, control.

I say when, I
say how.

I wince as I
sit and he keeps his features expressionless, but I know.

I know
beneath the desk he’s hard. Because I have his mark on me and his seed in me
and he knows how satisfied I am right now.

BOOK: The C Word (Just a Word Book 1)

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