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“Face the front,” I said. “You already took what you wanted while I was away. Now I get mine.”
I sat on the couch again and lubed my cock, then grabbed her hips and drew her back toward me. “Spread your legs and sit on my lap,” I said. She crouched down, letting me guide her scarlet ass cheeks toward my jutting tool. “Steady,” I said, and she draped her knees over mine as I held her waist and aimed my cock at her lubed hole. “You better be ready for me, bad girl. Are you ready?”
“I’m scared,” she whined through the panty gag as I started pressing the head inside her. “Please.Owww.”
“What?” I taunted. “I’m having trouble understanding you.”
Now that the head had pushed into her tight ring, I grasped her hips and pulled her down, making her accept the rest of my throbbing organ. One inch. Another inch. I watched myself sink inside her, stretching her, hurting her. Her muffled groan of pain made my cock surge to maximum fullness, which stretched her butt even worse.
“How does that feel?” I asked. “Does it feel as good as the butt plug you had to wear? As good as the orgasm you enjoyed when you disobeyed me?”
She made a strangled sound that might have beenyes, orno, orfuck me harder. I decided it was the last one, and pumped my hips so she bounced on my cock, the lube making a squelching sound each time I slid into her ass. Her squeals and groans drove me wild. She made me feel like an animal, and the best part was that she loved when I treated her that way.
I was so close to coming, and even though she’d been bad, I wanted her to come too, because she gave me so much pleasure that my body was going to explode.
I slid my hand between her legs and gripped her pussy, bucking harder as her cries rose behind her gag. “If you’re going to come,” I said against her ear, “you’d better come now. Right now, while I’m hurting your asshole.” I punctuated each word with a sharp smack to her clit, and by the time I got to the wordasshole, I could feel her channel clamping down on my cock.
The sharp, tight pressure of her climax made my own orgasm explode. I held her hips, fucking her hard, staring at her red ass cheeks and thinking,I love her.
What? Hell. I’d only known her for a couple of weeks, solove? No. But we’d developed a deep, comfortable compatibility I hadn’t felt with my other submissives.
It had to be the glasses. I picked them up from the end table and handed them back to her. She spit out her panties and said “Thank you,” and I laughed at her polite tone with my cock still buried in her ass. I made her lie back against my chest, and we rested together, our bodies connected. Her hair smelled like warmth and cookies, and all the good things.
“That’s what you get,” I said, running my fingers over her shoulders and arms. “Naughty little rule-breaker.”
“You’re so mean to me. Which I love.”
I snorted. “That takes all the fun out of it.”
We eventually separated ourselves and washed off in my shower. She was so delectable—red ass, freshly fucked, her hair piled on top of her head because she didn’t want to wash it. I wanted her to stay over, but she said she had to go home since she had work in the morning. I won the argument with promises of another orgasm to come.
I lied when I said her enjoyment took all the fun out of it. Her enjoyment meant so much to me that it was starting to freak me out.
Chapter Fifteen: Ella
My Gallery uniformarrived Friday evening by courier. I signed for the unmarked box, then hurried to my bedroom, because I knew what was inside.
As I pulled the tissue-wrapped pieces from the box, I marveled at the level of quality and detail. So exciting, that someone would make this racy uniform especially for me. There was an embellished bra with open cups, meant to highlight naked nipples. I shuddered, thinking how handy that would be for a sadist who was into nipple clamps.
The matching garter belt was a streamlined design of mesh and straps, decorated with tiny beads and understated lace—beautiful but harsh. It covered very little, and what it did cover was outlined with straps, like a harness. The uniform was intended to flagrantly present the female body for sex.
It turned me on so much I could hardly breathe.
The uniform came with three pairs of matching stockings, black stilettos, and a narrow silver collar. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, fascinated by its suppleness and faint leather smell. I’d never worn a collar, because I’d never been in that kind of owner-slave relationship. I flipped over the lock attached at the center front and read the fine print:Property of The Gallery.
It meant I belonged to everyone there, ownershipen masse. For the first time, I thought about what that really meant. It didn’t scare me. I was daring when it came to kink, and, as Devin knew, I’d had a highly enjoyable group experience before I left Pisa. But it was weird to think that right now, there were Dominant men who might touch me or hurt me, or even fuck me in The Gallery tomorrow night, and I hadn’t even met them yet.
Right now, those men might be getting a drink after work, or heading to the gym, or to a lover’s apartment. I held the collar up against my neck, then buckled it on, getting used to the mild feeling of constriction, the way the leather felt against my skin. Then I put on everything, as the note from Michelle instructed.Make sure it all fits…
It fit me like a second skin, not just physically, but mentally. As I looked in the mirror, I thought of Devin, my complicated sadist who came from a home with the wrong kind of pain. I knew he was flying into New York later tonight from a short hop through Europe, so I wasn’t sure my text would reach him, but I snapped a photo of the collar on my neck, with its dangling lock. I was careful to crop out most of my face—thanks to Leo, I no longer felt comfortable putting it out there—but I included my fingers tracing over the smooth leather. The message wasI wish you could touch me right now.
I thought about texting more, likeWow, I love this, orI can’t wait, but it wasn’t necessary. Devin would understand.
Chapter Sixteen: Devin
Iwas deadheadingback from Austria—flying as a passenger rather than a pilot—when I got Ella’s photo. Milo was beside me, having visited Vienna for business. He leaned closer when he saw my screen light up.
“Are there titties?” he asked. “I need to see some titties.”
