Dominating Jess: A Fantasy Fulfilled Novella (9 page)

“Now stop.”

Mercifully, the man
with the paddle stopped at Jake’s command. I cast my eyes at Jake again,
begging him silently to remember that I had to pee. I couldn’t hold it much
longer. I didn’t give myself another sixty seconds.

“Oh, that’s right,”
Jake said. “She has to urinate.”

The man with the
paddle translated to his friends, who laughed. One crossed his legs and
mimicked my face which apparently looked as frantic as I felt.

“Do it, then, whore.”

I raised my eyebrows.
Surely he would take me somewhere, as least behind a tree. Wouldn’t he? Being
naked, being whipped was one thing, but the humiliation of urinating in front
of these men wasn’t something I was sure I could handle.

“Do I have to tell you
twice?” His voice meant business, and my stomach clenched.

I couldn’t squat. I
was stuck, upright, balancing on the outer edges of my feet.

Without warning, Jake
yanked my nipple chain, and the left nipple clamp flew off. The scream felt
torn from my throat in the same way the clamp had been ripped away.

“I’ll make you feel
every single second you delay obeying me.”

I relinquished my
bladder control. I pissed like a race horse. The urine came out at such a
velocity that it shot straight forward for a few seconds, as if I were a man.

The three fishermen
convulsed in laughter at this, guffawing and slapping each other on the
back.
    

And I couldn’t stop
peeing. It came, and it came, and then more came. As it slowed, the liquid
coursed down both my legs. Within seconds, I was standing barefoot in mud
puddles of my own making. The warmth of it felt as superheated as my shame. As
it became just a trickle, I choked on a sob.

The relief, though,
was almost as intense as an orgasm.

“Dirty slut,” said one
man in heavily accented English, seeming thrilled.

Jake signaled the
biggest man to come to him. He handed him the chain and said something.

Nodding, the man began
tugging it. Lightly at first, my right nipple ached, and then burned as he
pulled harder. Jake held my leash and pulled it, just enough to make the butt
plug move harder into my ass. As they both tugged rhythmically, I desperately
wanted to move in the same rhythm—maybe it would lessen the
pain—but I knew better now. I stayed still and let him have his way.

The man nodded at Jake
who nodded back. Bringing his arm back like he was landing a fish, he ripped
off the remaining clamp. Despite myself, I felt my knees give, bending. I lost
my balance and almost fell. Had it not been for Olya catching me, I would have
fallen face first into the muddy dirt, unable to use to my hands to stop my
fall.

I locked my legs
again. With tight fingers, Olya held me in place.

Would I get a break
now? Would Jake thank them for their time and send them to their fishing hole?

Instead, I heard a
footstep scrape the dirt behind me.

The new person passed
me on the path, and then stumbled, pausing near the first three men. He was a
boy, no older than nineteen, if that, wearing a bright red soccer shirt. He’d
shaved this morning, but the stubble he’d missed on his neck still looked soft
and sparse. And his jaw was hanging completely open, his eyes big as hubcaps.

There was a flurry of
conversation as the men filled the boy in.

“Do you speak
English?” asked Jake. “Do you understand what this woman is?”

The boy nodded. “She
is dirty whore.”

Jake nodded, his
expression satisfied. “So dirty she’s standing in a pool of her own piss.”

At this, the boy
laughed. He met my eyes once, before his gaze skittered nervously away.

“Touch her,” Jake
said.

The boy looked
shocked, his mouth dropping open again. “She mind?”

“She signed up to have
this done to her. She wants this.”

I didn’t think it was
possible, but his eyes grew even bigger. I wanted to speak around the gag, to
tell the boy that no, I didn’t want this. That was the natural answer in this
situation. But I did want it. I wanted it so badly I felt weak.

“Touch her. See how
she feels.”

The boy didn’t wait to
be told a third time. He reached out and grabbed my nipple, which was still
swollen and elongated. He pinched me, his cold fingers digging into the
sensitive flesh. At first he was tentative, but he grew bold within in seconds,
pulling and twisting harder. He stepped closer and brought his other hand to my
other breast. It must have been his first time touching a woman, because he
didn’t so much touch me as knead me as a baker kneads bread, or as a farmer
kneads a cow’s udders. He squeezed my breasts—which actually felt good
since it brought a strange relief to my poor nipples—until I thought he
wanted to take them off and stuff them in his pockets. A huge delighted grin
lit his face as he looked over his shoulder at the older men. As humiliated as
I was, it was sweet to see him like this. I knew boys in my class at the gym
who sometimes couldn’t raise their eyes from my chest even when I embarrassed
them by calling them out on it.

“Now touch her lower.”

Oh, shit.

The boy bit his bottom
lower lip, two bright spots of color lighting the tops of his cheekbones.

His fingers were rough
and cold. I hated how wet I was. It wasn’t from him, I wanted him to know that.
I’d been wet since all of this started and it had nothing to do with the fact
that a stranger was now plunging his middle finger roughly inside me.

Oh, but God. Maybe it
did. My head was confused, and my thoughts were muddy, but maybe it
did
have something to do with the fact that a total fucking stranger had his finger
up my cunt that made me even wetter.

The man who’d only so
far so been watching, the one who reminded me of my ex-boyfriend Dave in the
way his shoulders slouched self-consciously, came to stand next to the boy.
Then with a shove to his shoulder, he moved the boy out of the way. He looked
over his shoulder at Jake who made an open-handed
go ahead
gesture.

This guy didn’t waste
time. He stood right up against me, and he was tall while I was still low to
the ground with my legs stretched so far apart. This meant that my face was
pressed against his stomach. He reached behind my neck and undid the gag. How
did he know how to do that? Was this something common out here? Was this road a
regular route for Jake and his team? Then he undid his belt and opened his
pants. I glanced at Jake, standing to one side. This wasn’t going to be
his
cock. This was a stranger. My mouth worked in worry, trying to moisten my dry,
cracked lips before I had to use my tongue again.

Jake looked back, and
in that second, I swear it was like he held me in his arms. His eyes were warm,
like they were when we walked through the Village on soft summer evenings. In
that moment, if I’d been talking, I would have told him anything.

Instead, though, I
just opened my mouth.

Good girl
, said his eyes.

Dave put his hard cock
into my mouth and pushed. I was ready for him, swallowing against my gag
reflex. I could tell by the way he gasped that he hadn’t been expecting to be
able to go so far, to have me take him all the way. His girlfriends probably
never did it like this. He grunted in appreciation and then moaned as he hit
the back of my throat. Compared to Jake’s size, he was smaller, easier to take.
While he fucked my mouth, I could think about what my pussy was doing, which
was pretty amazing, all told. My folds were so swollen that as exposed to the
air as they were, the slightest breeze chilled my clit like a lover rubbing it
with an ice cube.

I glanced to my left.
The boy had his camera out now, and by the way he was moving it I could tell he
was filming us. Where would that footage end up? Would it end up on the Eastern
European version of dirty Youtube? How many strangers would jack off, watching
me get my mouth fucked like this in the woods by a passerby while I was
strapped in a spreader bar, my arms pinned behind me? Would any women stumble
across the site and touch themselves, wishing for long moments that they were
me, that they were the one being humiliated and used?

I reveled in it. It
felt like a gift I was giving myself, a very strange and ridiculously hot gift.

I was letting them do
this to me. When Olya had strapped me to the bar, I could have spun out of her
grasp six different times. Even with my hands tied behind my back (literally),
I could have taken her down. Jake, friend that he was in real life, wouldn’t
have fought me if I’d been serious.

But now I
knew—and it actually made me wetter—that this was
my
decision. All of it.

In giving up control,
I’d let go of something that had been tying me down.
I’d
been shackling
myself with whatever fear it was that didn’t let me let loose, didn’t let me
ask for what it was I
really
wanted. In having to take care of
myself—and everything else—for so long, I’d never gotten to give
all of it up, which was, apparently, what I’d wanted most of all.

And now here I was,
the target. The object of the film the boy was making on his camera. The whore.

Dave was fucking my
mouth faster now, barely moving out long enough to allow me to catch a breath
before cramming himself back in. His balls bounced against my chin with soft
little slaps. I knew he was about to come when he roared above me, a sound I
would have found terrifying if I’d heard it unexpectedly, but a sound that now
filled me with triumph.

His jizz was hot in
the back of my throat, difficult to swallow. He pulled out and creamed my face
with the second and third shot. I loved the feeling of it sliding down my
forehead, down my cheeks.

He stumbled sideways
as Jake moved him with a firm hand. Then Olya was at Jake’s side, and they each
undid an ankle restraint, supporting me as I stood taller, legs together again.
Olya was still shooting Jake those amused looks that I didn’t understand. The
ground at my feet was still muddy, and when I looked down, my feet were filthy.
I couldn’t help smiling as I rubbed my cheek against my shoulder.

“You think we’re done
with you, slut?” Jake asked in that voice I still barely recognized, the voice
that sent wonderful chills through me. “You, all of you,” he said to the men.
“Go. Get out of here. You’ve had your fun with her.”

They grumbled, but the
men left together, throwing glances back at us as they went.

Jake turned to me.
“Now. You think we’re going to let you get away with just a quick blow job?
That easy? Think again. Walk.” He pressed a knuckle sharply against my spine.

We walked, all of us,
under the thick canopy of the poplar trees. I led the way, Jake and Olya
flanking me to either side. I was almost totally used to the hook now, and I
liked the way the cold chain felt against my back.

After long minutes and
many small missteps over roots and rocks—my body was getting
tired—we went up a small hill and around a curve. A low rail ran along
the side of the hill.

We’d reached a lookout
area. Below us stretched the dark blue lake that curved sinuously to the north.
A smaller path cut around the rail, off to the right into some elms, and I
could tell by the way it was worn that it led to the water’s edge.

“We’ll stop here,”
said Jake. There it was again. That warmth in his voice that matched the look
in his eyes. “Olya, do you mind giving us a minute?”

She inclined her head
and took out her cell phone as she walked to the edge of the path.

“How are you doing?”
He touched my bicep which ached along with the rest of my body. I threaded my
fingers together behind me to get more feeling back.

“Here, let me undo
those,” he said. “You’ve been in them a long time.”

I looked at him
suspiciously as he unlocked the handcuffs and brought my arms forward,
massaging my wrists. Was this my New York Jake speaking? It sounded like him.
His face had the same look it had had whenever he brought me hot’n’sour soup
when I had the flu. His fingers felt wonderfully cool on my chafed skin.

“I’m okay.”

“Only okay?”

I couldn’t help
smiling. “This is insane.”

“But you love it.”

I dipped my head.
“Yeah.”

“I think it’s time for
the final phase of the day.”

I pulled my lips
together. I could guess what it was, and I was scared, but the ripples of fear
coursing up and down my spine felt electric.

“I’m ready.”

Instead of answering,
Jake put his arm around my waist and pulled me close against him. I felt his
erection through his jeans, hard again, pushing against my stomach. Lifting a
hand to cup my cheek, he put his lips on mine.

He kissed me. For the
second time ever, Jake kissed me.

It was a sweet kiss,
at first. His mouth caressed mine. I felt safe. I kissed him back, trying to
show him with my mouth what I was feeling, but since that was a world of
emotion, I only did the best I could. Then the kiss went deeper, his tongue
meeting mine with a desperation I felt, too. I couldn’t get enough of his
mouth, his taste, of
him
. He tasted darkly of whiskey and tobacco from
the cigar I’d seen him smoking in the club. My own mouth tasted like man, I
knew, but our taste, married on our tongues, was rich and heady. There was sex
and so much more in how we kissed, in how our fingers were now laced together
tightly. I wanted to climb into his arms and rest there. I wanted him to fuck
me. I wanted to hold him all night.