This is Who I Am
Page 24
Her mind told her body to tense, but the anticipation of more was…wonderful. “More. Want more.”
“Yes. But this will be different. Let’s see how you like a clamp.”
She didn’t like clamps, did she? She tried to shake her head, but her cheek rested on the cushion and hadn’t moved.
He patted her hand. “I’m not going to restrain your arms, baby. Just your ass.” He tugged her body down toward the end of the horse so her butt stuck out. Something pressed into her left calf—a strap—then the right. Another one chilled the skin on her lower back, and she realized she couldn’t move her bottom at all. The sensation of being so exposed, so…ready…sent more need sizzling across her pussy. Want. Please, want.
He massaged her stinging ass cheeks, then smacked each one hard, and like coals with fresh tinder, the glow under her skin flamed up, searing through her in every color of the rainbow. Her moan shuddered inside her ribs before escaping.
Cold drizzled between her ass cheeks, making her squirm, and then he pressed something hard against her asshole. She instinctively tightened. Slowly he worked the plug through the rim of muscle, ruthlessly pushing in until her nerves sparkled like fireworks in the night. Confused, she tried to move, to escape, and couldn’t. Her bottom was held right there for his use.
Her hands opened and closed convulsively as she realized he’d do exactly what he wanted. Her arousal expanded like a balloon. Need to come. Oh, need to come.
When the anal plug plopped into place, throbbing and burning, she whimpered at the jagged onslaught of fresh pleasure.
She heard his belt, then the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and his grating laugh. “Now for the part that you’ll hate—and will really enjoy.”
What? The pulsing sense of need eroded her thoughts and tied her tongue.
His hands slid over her bottom, down her inner thighs. And then his fingers settled on her clit, pinching hard enough that she screamed and tried to buck.
The urgent coil in her lower belly tightened and grew.
His fingers released her. Then something else locked onto her clit, tighter and tighter, as if tiny teeth were gnawing on her. The exquisite bite was shocking, overwhelming, and everything inside her exploded. Oh God! Her body spasmed, tried to move…couldn’t…and the waves of sensation spread outward through her body, filling her mind.
Before she could recover, she felt his finger opening her labia. His thick cock pressed against her entrance, pushed inside, stretching her ferociously. Too much. As the tidal wave of ecstasy swept her away, she screamed.
LINDA’S SCREAM ALMOST sent Sam over the edge. The sound of a woman screaming and coming at the same time was the finest of wines, filling his soul. As her cunt convulsed around him in an unstoppable orgasm, her body shook like she’d break into pieces.
He gave her a few seconds to adapt to his entry, then pulled back and thrust in harder. Faster. Damned if she didn’t keep spasming around him. Couldn’t complain about that.
She finally sagged against the sawhorse, gasping for breath as if he’d held her underwater.
She was incredibly wet, and by God, he wanted to see her come again. He changed to a gentle sliding in and out as he ran his hands over her reddened back, savoring her moan. He’d never had someone more fun to play with. To hurt. To fuck.
He kept his thrusts slow enough to maintain control until she stirred. As her eyes blinked open, he ran his hands over the backs of her thighs. When his fingers encountered the tiny raised lines, he knew she’d get a fine burst of pain. As if in agreement, her cunt clenched around him, and he grinned. He could fuck her for years and never tire of it.
Mercilessly, he massaged her ass, pleased at the light welting, even more pleased at how she wiggled when the tender skin was further abused. As she started to pant, he tugged on the anal plug, adding new sensations. Overloading her system.
When he leaned forward, his cock rammed in deeper, right up against her cervix, and he heard her sharp inhalation, her attempt to squirm away. But the low back strap kept her right where he liked her, kept her feeling just what he wanted her to feel.
With his chest against her back, he reached around to palm her swaying breasts. Gorgeous breasts, heavy and large enough to fill his hands. He massaged them, tugged at them.
Her nipples were already sore from the wheel, the vampire glove, even a few hits from the quirt. When he pinched hard, her body stiffened, and her low shriek made him laugh. The way she tightened around his cock reaffirmed she was hardwired for pain, and those sensitive breasts made a direct circuit to her pussy. As he played with them, her breasts swelled, increasing his pleasure.
Increasing hers. She gave a sweet moan and slid deeper into subspace.
“That’s my girl.” He pounded into her hard enough to make the sawhorse rock. As he shoved her toward coming again, her cunt clamped down and tested his control.
Her breathing quickened, the sound mingling with her moans as he teased her nipples. Goddamn. His jaw clenched. His straining cock felt as if it would split; his balls seemed as if they’d been compressed between boards. Almost there—both of them.
Reaching around, he removed the clamp from her clit and could almost hear blood rush back into the abused nub. He drank in how her wailing scream filled the room, how her neck arched to lift her head, how her core clenched and spasmed around him as her orgasm hit her like a pile driver.
He gripped her hair, pulling as he released control and drove into her fast and hard. His balls were boiling, and the heat poured out of them and through his cock in bone-jolting jerks as he came and came and came.
God. Damn. With an effort, he released her hair and buried his face in the scented silkiness, content to stay just where he was—buried as deep as a man could go.
Chapter Eleven
Seated at a chair near a suspension scene, Aaron watched the little brunette trainee clean off a nearby table. Quite amusing how Sally—wasn’t that her name?—never looked at him if she could help it. Not since he’d slapped her face for speaking up during a scene.
Her horror had been delightful—her tears even more so.
But everything had gone to hell after that. Z’s mouthy sub had charged in, which meant Z had gotten involved. Truly a mess. At least the trainee had admitted she hadn’t specified no slapping. When she said she’d been too shocked to safe word, he’d almost laughed. What was the point of slapping someone if you didn’t shock her?
But it had pissed him off when Z monitored him closely for a time afterward. That was the slut’s fault. He motioned to her. “You. Come here.”
Her jaw tightened. Didn’t it just break his heart that the trainee bitch had to acknowledge a Dom, even one she hated?
She approached, although he almost laughed at the ample space she left between them. “Yes, Sir.”
“Bring me a…” He frowned, remembering he’d already had his two drinks. Cullen kept careful track. “Bring me a mineral water.”
“Right away, Sir.”
“Wait.” When he raised his hand and she flinched, he laughed. “Remember our scene, do you? I enjoyed it.”
Her whole body turned statue still, and an angry flush lit her cheeks. But, oh, too bad for her, the trainee couldn’t yell at a Dom. Couldn’t do shit.
“Maybe I’ll ask for you again.” He massaged his hand, enjoying how warily she watched him.
She clenched her tray so hard her knuckles turned white, but her voice stayed polite. Cold. “I’m afraid that would be a waste of your time…Sir.”
The slut had a backbone. And he couldn’t prod her further without chancing Z’s attention. He flicked his fingers at her. “Go.”
Her posture displayed a cock-hardening mix of anger and fear as she walked away. He shook his head, regretting that the Harvest Association hadn’t picked her up. She’d have been perfect for the “rebellious slave” themed auction. Unfortunately, she’d gone to visit relatives before the contractor could kidnap her.
Truly a shame. He’d have loved to break the insolent bitch. Easy-peasy. Force her mouth open with a spider gag and let everyone face fuck her until only whimpers came out. Wouldn’t take long before that cocky walk would turn to a slink, showing her fear of attracting any attention.
But that opportunity was gone. The Harvest Association wouldn’t expand back into the southern quadrant for quite some time, if ever. Stinking FBI.
However, the northeast quadrant was in operation, and the Harvest Association took vindictive to new levels. The two asshole agents leading the investigation might well come to regret their actions.
Something to look forward to.
Turning, Aaron eyed the unoccupied submissives near the bar. His need wasn’t urgent since he’d indulged in a whore last night. When he’d flashed a wad of money, the foolish woman had climbed right into his car. Poor safety awareness on her part. A shame she’d never learn any better.
She hadn’t been a bad fuck. After getting off, he’d played with her, hurting her with his fists, then his knife. He’d been furious when she got quiet, like she’d mentally retreated. But no—she’d been dead. No stamina. Truly, the older slaves were more fun.
Damn Davies for latching on to the redheaded slut.
Then again, she’d undoubtedly be around. Without Davies. Her hair would look good in his drawer. Maybe he’d tie it up with a black ribbon for contrast.
“Yes. But this will be different. Let’s see how you like a clamp.”
She didn’t like clamps, did she? She tried to shake her head, but her cheek rested on the cushion and hadn’t moved.
He patted her hand. “I’m not going to restrain your arms, baby. Just your ass.” He tugged her body down toward the end of the horse so her butt stuck out. Something pressed into her left calf—a strap—then the right. Another one chilled the skin on her lower back, and she realized she couldn’t move her bottom at all. The sensation of being so exposed, so…ready…sent more need sizzling across her pussy. Want. Please, want.
He massaged her stinging ass cheeks, then smacked each one hard, and like coals with fresh tinder, the glow under her skin flamed up, searing through her in every color of the rainbow. Her moan shuddered inside her ribs before escaping.
Cold drizzled between her ass cheeks, making her squirm, and then he pressed something hard against her asshole. She instinctively tightened. Slowly he worked the plug through the rim of muscle, ruthlessly pushing in until her nerves sparkled like fireworks in the night. Confused, she tried to move, to escape, and couldn’t. Her bottom was held right there for his use.
Her hands opened and closed convulsively as she realized he’d do exactly what he wanted. Her arousal expanded like a balloon. Need to come. Oh, need to come.
When the anal plug plopped into place, throbbing and burning, she whimpered at the jagged onslaught of fresh pleasure.
She heard his belt, then the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and his grating laugh. “Now for the part that you’ll hate—and will really enjoy.”
What? The pulsing sense of need eroded her thoughts and tied her tongue.
His hands slid over her bottom, down her inner thighs. And then his fingers settled on her clit, pinching hard enough that she screamed and tried to buck.
The urgent coil in her lower belly tightened and grew.
His fingers released her. Then something else locked onto her clit, tighter and tighter, as if tiny teeth were gnawing on her. The exquisite bite was shocking, overwhelming, and everything inside her exploded. Oh God! Her body spasmed, tried to move…couldn’t…and the waves of sensation spread outward through her body, filling her mind.
Before she could recover, she felt his finger opening her labia. His thick cock pressed against her entrance, pushed inside, stretching her ferociously. Too much. As the tidal wave of ecstasy swept her away, she screamed.
LINDA’S SCREAM ALMOST sent Sam over the edge. The sound of a woman screaming and coming at the same time was the finest of wines, filling his soul. As her cunt convulsed around him in an unstoppable orgasm, her body shook like she’d break into pieces.
He gave her a few seconds to adapt to his entry, then pulled back and thrust in harder. Faster. Damned if she didn’t keep spasming around him. Couldn’t complain about that.
She finally sagged against the sawhorse, gasping for breath as if he’d held her underwater.
She was incredibly wet, and by God, he wanted to see her come again. He changed to a gentle sliding in and out as he ran his hands over her reddened back, savoring her moan. He’d never had someone more fun to play with. To hurt. To fuck.
He kept his thrusts slow enough to maintain control until she stirred. As her eyes blinked open, he ran his hands over the backs of her thighs. When his fingers encountered the tiny raised lines, he knew she’d get a fine burst of pain. As if in agreement, her cunt clenched around him, and he grinned. He could fuck her for years and never tire of it.
Mercilessly, he massaged her ass, pleased at the light welting, even more pleased at how she wiggled when the tender skin was further abused. As she started to pant, he tugged on the anal plug, adding new sensations. Overloading her system.
When he leaned forward, his cock rammed in deeper, right up against her cervix, and he heard her sharp inhalation, her attempt to squirm away. But the low back strap kept her right where he liked her, kept her feeling just what he wanted her to feel.
With his chest against her back, he reached around to palm her swaying breasts. Gorgeous breasts, heavy and large enough to fill his hands. He massaged them, tugged at them.
Her nipples were already sore from the wheel, the vampire glove, even a few hits from the quirt. When he pinched hard, her body stiffened, and her low shriek made him laugh. The way she tightened around his cock reaffirmed she was hardwired for pain, and those sensitive breasts made a direct circuit to her pussy. As he played with them, her breasts swelled, increasing his pleasure.
Increasing hers. She gave a sweet moan and slid deeper into subspace.
“That’s my girl.” He pounded into her hard enough to make the sawhorse rock. As he shoved her toward coming again, her cunt clamped down and tested his control.
Her breathing quickened, the sound mingling with her moans as he teased her nipples. Goddamn. His jaw clenched. His straining cock felt as if it would split; his balls seemed as if they’d been compressed between boards. Almost there—both of them.
Reaching around, he removed the clamp from her clit and could almost hear blood rush back into the abused nub. He drank in how her wailing scream filled the room, how her neck arched to lift her head, how her core clenched and spasmed around him as her orgasm hit her like a pile driver.
He gripped her hair, pulling as he released control and drove into her fast and hard. His balls were boiling, and the heat poured out of them and through his cock in bone-jolting jerks as he came and came and came.
God. Damn. With an effort, he released her hair and buried his face in the scented silkiness, content to stay just where he was—buried as deep as a man could go.
Chapter Eleven
Seated at a chair near a suspension scene, Aaron watched the little brunette trainee clean off a nearby table. Quite amusing how Sally—wasn’t that her name?—never looked at him if she could help it. Not since he’d slapped her face for speaking up during a scene.
Her horror had been delightful—her tears even more so.
But everything had gone to hell after that. Z’s mouthy sub had charged in, which meant Z had gotten involved. Truly a mess. At least the trainee had admitted she hadn’t specified no slapping. When she said she’d been too shocked to safe word, he’d almost laughed. What was the point of slapping someone if you didn’t shock her?
But it had pissed him off when Z monitored him closely for a time afterward. That was the slut’s fault. He motioned to her. “You. Come here.”
Her jaw tightened. Didn’t it just break his heart that the trainee bitch had to acknowledge a Dom, even one she hated?
She approached, although he almost laughed at the ample space she left between them. “Yes, Sir.”
“Bring me a…” He frowned, remembering he’d already had his two drinks. Cullen kept careful track. “Bring me a mineral water.”
“Right away, Sir.”
“Wait.” When he raised his hand and she flinched, he laughed. “Remember our scene, do you? I enjoyed it.”
Her whole body turned statue still, and an angry flush lit her cheeks. But, oh, too bad for her, the trainee couldn’t yell at a Dom. Couldn’t do shit.
“Maybe I’ll ask for you again.” He massaged his hand, enjoying how warily she watched him.
She clenched her tray so hard her knuckles turned white, but her voice stayed polite. Cold. “I’m afraid that would be a waste of your time…Sir.”
The slut had a backbone. And he couldn’t prod her further without chancing Z’s attention. He flicked his fingers at her. “Go.”
Her posture displayed a cock-hardening mix of anger and fear as she walked away. He shook his head, regretting that the Harvest Association hadn’t picked her up. She’d have been perfect for the “rebellious slave” themed auction. Unfortunately, she’d gone to visit relatives before the contractor could kidnap her.
Truly a shame. He’d have loved to break the insolent bitch. Easy-peasy. Force her mouth open with a spider gag and let everyone face fuck her until only whimpers came out. Wouldn’t take long before that cocky walk would turn to a slink, showing her fear of attracting any attention.
But that opportunity was gone. The Harvest Association wouldn’t expand back into the southern quadrant for quite some time, if ever. Stinking FBI.
However, the northeast quadrant was in operation, and the Harvest Association took vindictive to new levels. The two asshole agents leading the investigation might well come to regret their actions.
Something to look forward to.
Turning, Aaron eyed the unoccupied submissives near the bar. His need wasn’t urgent since he’d indulged in a whore last night. When he’d flashed a wad of money, the foolish woman had climbed right into his car. Poor safety awareness on her part. A shame she’d never learn any better.
She hadn’t been a bad fuck. After getting off, he’d played with her, hurting her with his fists, then his knife. He’d been furious when she got quiet, like she’d mentally retreated. But no—she’d been dead. No stamina. Truly, the older slaves were more fun.
Damn Davies for latching on to the redheaded slut.
Then again, she’d undoubtedly be around. Without Davies. Her hair would look good in his drawer. Maybe he’d tie it up with a black ribbon for contrast.
