Controlling Krysta (8 page)

“Please let me stay,” I said quietly.

His face softened for a moment. He was tempted. Then he got hold of himself and the stern expression returned.

“You wanna stay?” His voice held a challenge.

“Yes.”

“If you stay now, everything will be different. You’ll be here under the terms of this contract.” He took it from the table and held it up in front of me. “Your body will be mine to control.”

My breathing quickened at the last sentence. The words “mine to control,” echoed in my head.

I wanted him to rule me, dominated me. But I also wanted to prove to him that I cared about him.

“I’ll go one better,” I said. “I’ll stay under the conditions of the contract, but I won’t accept the money.”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. I could see the shrewd businessman at work, trying to determine what my angle was.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Go to my bedroom. Take off your clothes and wait.”

I stood there for a moment, undecided. What would he do to me, knowing I had signed that contract with his brother behind his back?

The thought frightened and aroused me. Would it be painful? Humiliating?

I glanced down at his waist. I remembered Mason whipping me with his leather belt and I could sense the rush of liquid to my pussy.

I needed to stay to find out what other arousing humiliations he could dream up for me. And I needed to show him it wasn’t about the money.

“Okay,” I whispered.

It seemed like I’d been standing in the bedroom for a long time. My clothes were folded and laid neatly on Mason’s dresser, since I didn’t want to mess up his immaculate room.

I stared at the fancy headboard on his giant bed. There was a Texas star emblazoned in a circle in the top portion. The bottom half was made up of square wooden spindles.

Would he fuck me on that bed? A tingle slithered over the skin of my arms.

Why was he waiting so long to come in? Was he undecided as to whether he would really let me stay?

That thought panicked me. How could I make sure he wouldn’t change his mind and throw me out?

I had an idea. I got down on the hardwood floor on both knees, my hands folded in my lap.

Seconds later, Mason strode in and stopped dead in his tracks. I was sure my position was having its desired effect. His chest heaved as he stared down at me.

I dropped my eyes and bowed my head, looking as submissive as I knew how.

He cleared his throat. “Get up,” he said. “Lie down on the bed.”

I stood and climbed onto one side of the bed, hoping he’d join me.

“In the middle.”

I obeyed.

“Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

I complied and he stood at the end of the bed, directly in line with my crotch.

“No, that’s not wide enough.”

“That’s as wide as they go,” I said.

He turned and opened one of his dresser drawers. When he swung back around, he’d donned a pair of gloves.

Shit. I knew they were a symbol. He was back to protecting himself against emotions.

He didn’t trust me or my feelings toward him.

He came to the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles roughly, and positioned my feet so they were flat on the bed, my knees bent.

“Now you can spread your pussy more for me,” he said.

When I didn’t move, he pressed on the insides of my knees, so that my legs were in an awkward frog-like position.

This was much more humiliating than any other I’d been in.

“Now, show me how you touch yourself.”

The gloves, the weird position, the idea of having to masturbate in front of him, was all too much.

“I’m not here to touch myself!” I said.

“No,” he replied calmly. “You’re here to do exactly what I tell you to, like we agreed.

And the only appropriate response to my commands is, ‘Yes, Mr. Maddox.’”

He stared at me, waiting for a response. If it were anyone else in the world, I would have told him to go fuck himself, but I felt as if his dark eyes were hypnotizing me.

“Yes, Mr. Maddox,” I whispered. My pussy contracted with my words.

“Go ahead,” Mason said. He stood at the end of the bed, legs splayed, arms folded, waiting.

Slowly, I lifted my hand from the bed and skimmed it down my abdomen to my pelvis.

I took in a shaky breath, then slid my finger through my slit.

My clit sprang to life, relishing the attention. Yet, this wasn’t what I truly needed.

“Please, Mason…I want you to—”

“You’re not allowed to call me by my first name. I think you need a reminder.” He walked over to his closet and opened the doors. I’d never seen such a perfectly organized space in my life.

He reached into a box and pulled out what appeared to be a cummerbund for a tuxedo.

“Sit up.” He came toward me.

I complied, wondering why he’d want me in a cummerbund.

I soon found out. He tied it around my eyes. Damn, I hadn’t expected to be blindfolded.

“Lie down and put your arms above your head.”

I did as he asked, even though the blindfold was making me jittery.

“Grab the spindles and hold on. If you let go, I’ll have to tie your wrists.”

I didn’t want to be blindfolded and tied. I curled the fingers of each hand around a spindle.

I heard him moving around the room. Drawers were opening and closing.

The mattress dipped on my left side.

Tremors of fear and anticipation caused my muscles to jerk involuntarily.

Annoyed by my over-reaction to the situation, I sucked in a calming breath and blew it out slowly. I could choose not to be nervous. I was in charge of my own fear.

Pain seared through my right nipple. Shit! Was he piercing it?

Releasing the spindles, I clawed at the blindfold. My other hand skimmed over my breast to see if it was injured.

Instead of a nipple, I felt cold metal. Before I could explore further or remove my blindfold, my hands were jerked up over my head.

His palm pressed my wrists into the bed and I realized he was holding both with one of his big hands…just like in my dream.

A wave of arousal coursed through me at the thought of being dominated so completely. Yet I was still angry. What a freak I was turning out to be.

I struggled and he pressed harder.

“Krysta!” He said sharply. “Do you want to stay?”

I stilled.

I shouldn’t have wanted to stay. Staying was crazy. But I certainly didn’t want to leave.

And I hated the idea of saying it out loud. Admitting that, for some strange reason, I wanted to stay here with him no matter what he planned to do to me.

Maybe if I made this about the feelings between us, instead of the sexual weirdness.

“Mason, I—”

“It’s Mr. Maddox, and the only answers here are ‘Yes, Mr. Maddox,’ or ‘No, Mr.

Maddox.’”

I knew that extra edge in his voice was there because of the contract. Maybe I did deserve to be punished.

“Do you want to stay?” he repeated.

“Yes, Mr. Maddox.”

“Grab the spindles. This is your last chance. Let go again, and you’ll be tied.”

I wrapped my fingers around the spindles, this time determined not to let go no matter what. I didn’t want my hands tied.

Pain shot through my left nipple. I startled, but didn’t move my hands. I became aware of the cold steel chain on my skin, snaking from one nipple clamp to the other.

Each time I breathed, it slithered, changing positions slightly on my chest.

“I’m going to tie your legs open so you don’t thrash around too much.”

The idea of being tied frightened me. It always had.

“Please don’t tie me, Ma—Mr. Maddox,” I cried.

“This is what it means to be my contracted whore. I’m not interested in what you want. I don’t have sympathy for your fear.”

My heart ached because behind the shield of indifference, I could hear the hurt in his voice. In his mind, he’d cared for me, and I’d betrayed him.

I lay there quietly as he tied my ankles with leather straps and pulled my legs wide.

As I became aware of a small buzzing sound, a vibration hit my clit.

“Oh!” I yelled. It was a hit-and-run sensation, gone in a split second. My pussy flexed.

My clit cried out for more. I wanted that feeling back.

Instead, the chain on my chest moved and the clamps pulled at my sensitive nipples. I moaned as fabulous waves of pain swelled in my breasts and washed through my torso.

My pelvis thrust upward on its own. It was rewarded with another burst of electricity on my clit.

“Oh…yes!” I said. Before the second word was out, the apparatus had been removed.

The feeling melted away.

I nearly let go of the spindles in my desperation to touch myself, but squeezed them harder instead.

My hips undulated, begging for more.

Something cold and hard touched my clit, but there were no vibrations this time.

“Do you want me to turn it on?” Mason asked.

“Yes!” My hips thrust as though they could turn the vibrator on themselves. All that got me was a little more pressure.

I heard the buzz as the jolt hit me. “Ahhh—” I began, but it stopped again.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, Mr. Maddox.”

“Then tell me about this arrangement with my brother. What was the payoff for him?

Was he planning to humiliate me with the contract after you and I were supposedly together?”

“No… No!” I was shocked he’d think such a thing. “Your brother loves you.”

“If he did, he wouldn’t make me the butt of his joke.”

“It wasn’t a joke. He was worried about you… He cares about you.”

“All Dix cares about is Dix. He has you charmed like all the others.”

“Dix may be charming, but you’re the one I—”

A shockwave hit the entrance to my pussy. This time, the buzzing bliss went on for one, two, three…

My body stiffened, more than ready for the orgasm. The word I’d been saying turned into “l—oooooh!”

The vibrator left me, but continued buzzing, taunting me with the ultimate pleasure I wasn’t allowed to have.

“Please!” I said.

“What are you asking for?”

It really wasn’t the vibrator I wanted the most. “Please touch me, Mason. I need you to touch me.”

“You addressed me incorrectly. You’ll have to be punished.”

Footsteps moved toward the bedroom door. “Don’t go!” I cried out.

“Don’t move,” he replied.

I lay perfectly still, listening, wondering what was going to happen next.

What if when Mason came back and sat on the bed, I reached up and grabbed him?

Although, it would probably be better to remove the blindfold first so we wouldn’t suffer a painful head butt.

I imagined pulling the cummerbund off, throwing my arms around Mason’s neck and kissing him. Then he’d move over me, inside me, and fuck me.

Except, as angry as he was, he might have thrown me out instead.

My hands were numb. Releasing the spindles, I opened and shut my fingers to work the blood back into them.

When I heard footsteps, I quickly grasped the headboard again.

Mason sat down at my side. The nipple clamps were removed. Oddly, I missed the sensation.

It was immediately replaced on one nipple by something wet and very cold.

I shivered and sucked in a quick breath.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Too cold.” Drops streamed down my breast as my body heat melted the ice cube.

“Good thing I got a whole bowlful,” he said.

A bowlful?

My other nipple was assaulted and my body temperature dropped several degrees.

“I don’t like this.”

“Hence the term, ‘punishment.’”

He trailed an elongated piece of ice down my abdomen.

“How do you think it will feel when I slide one of these through your pussy lips, Krysta?”

Why did his words arouse me? If the ice was too cold on my chest, it certainly would be too cold inside me.

“Miserable,” I replied.

“But perfect for a cold-hearted woman who took money to make me think she cared about me.”

What could I say to convince him? He had evidence in black and white.

“I got rid of my collection for you.” He murmured so quietly, he may have been speaking more to himself than to me.

That was for me? He’d gotten rid of his prize freak animal collection to show me he could be normal enough for a relationship with me?

Damn Dixon Maddox and his stupid contract… and me for going along with it.

The ice slipped over my pussy lips, then moved slowly inside, over my confused clit.

Moments ago, it had been desperate for more contact, but now…

“Cold,” I whimpered.

The cube quickly melted away and another took its place. But this one was pushed inside my pussy.

There was such enjoyment the first split second. That part of my body had craved attention for so long and it was finally being filled. Until the nerve endings registered the temperature and frigid pain seared through me.

“Please! I can’t!” My body trembled.

He removed the ice. Still, I shivered miserably.

“Are you planning to freeze me to death?”

“I think I know how to thaw you out.”

With sex? I imagined the heat of his body on mine. I certainly hoped he meant he would fuck the cold out of me.

Something was going on to the left of me, but it didn’t sound like he was taking any clothes off. My ankles were suddenly freed.

“Legs back in frog position, like I showed you.”

As much as I hated the idea, I didn’t want to be punished with any more ice. I pulled my legs up so that my feet were mostly flat on the bed and my knees were pointed up and out.

I jumped when something gooey touched my asshole.

“Relax,” Mason said. “This is warming lube. It should heat you back up.”