In the Middle (14 page)

“At ease.” He got an alcohol wipe from a container in his bag and carefully cleaned the egg and the string. She relaxed, straightening up. She suspected he wouldn’t like it if she pulled her hem down, but she wiggled so that it fell into place.

“Pull your dress back up,” he ordered.

Damn, he noticed that too. “Yes, Master.”

He folded out a little tray from the side of the limo, obviously meant for people who wanted to eat dinner in the car, and placed a few objects on it from his briefcase. There was a thermos, two coffee mugs, and a ticklish-looking brush. Did he mean to serve drinks? If so, what was the brush for?

She lifted her dress until her pussy was exposed to his view again and spread her legs. If he wanted to see, she might as well get comfortable. There were worse things than lounging in the back of a limo. Sprawling with her pussy on display felt positively decadent.

He pulled out a towel. “Lift your hips.” She lifted them from the seat, and he slid the towel underneath her. Then he ignored her again, pouring steaming water into one of the coffee mugs.

“I like mine with sugar and cream.” If he made her drink coffee black, she’d use her safe word for sure.

He chuckled. “I think you’ll cream quite nicely, sugar.” He dipped the brush into the water, shook it to get the excess water from it, and then held the other mug with his left hand, swirling the brush vigorously inside it. As he did so, a softly perfumed, soapy scent filled the limo.

He wouldn’t.

But she knew she was wrong. It was precisely the kind of thing he
would
do.

Should she object? He set the mug down with the brush still in it and took out two more items: a barber’s shears and an old-fashioned, silver-handled safety razor, confirming her fears.

“Why do you want to do this?”

“Because I can. Because I like it. And because I want to see your pussy without any hiding, totally revealed to my gaze.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“If we let it.”

Another hint that it might not be their last night together after all. She closed her eyes, trying to think. She wanted to submit so badly. She knew she had to have some limits, things that permanently hurt her or others. But as she’d said, it would grow back. It wasn’t permanent.

She opened her eyes at the feeling of her pubic hair being tugged. She heard the
snick-snick
of the scissors before she managed to focus. He was cutting off the longer hairs, trimming it back. “Are you going to take it all?” she asked. “Or leave a landing strip? Or a heart shape?”

“I’m going to take it all,” he said. He cut quickly, concentrating on what he was doing, not looking up at her. “Do you need to use your safe word, Louise?”

She gulped. “No, Master.”

He set the scissors back on the tray, gave the brush a few more swirls in its mug, and then lifted it out. She could see the foamy lather on it as he brought it toward her pussy. She expected it to scratch or something, but it was soft as it twirled in what was left of her pubic thatch. And it was nice and warm, almost too hot but not quite. She missed it when he put it back into the mug to get more lather. Her core tightened. Her pussy tingled from the pulls he gave it as he held her inner thigh, and then more so when the brush feathered across her labia. She trembled at its light, teasing touch and looked up at him. This time his gaze met hers.

She looked down. Her crotch was covered with white lather. He’d laid it on thick. It was reassuring to see that he had taken the care and the time. He never seemed in a rush.

If the lather was reassuring, the sight of the razor was anything but. She shivered.

“I won’t hurt you, Louise. I won’t risk hurting you.”

“Trust you?” she asked.

“Do you?”

She gave it a moment’s thought. “Yes.” And then, because saying so gave her courage, she added, “I’m all yours.”

He grinned. “Good girl. You’re a very good submissive, my Lulu.” He drew the razor across the fur on her mound, then dipped it into the mug with the water, stripping it of the excess lather and hair. In a few strokes, he was finished with that part. Her skin felt extra-sensitive there, but he hadn’t nicked her or caused her any pain.

He tugged at her pussy lips, pulling them first one way, then the other, and he shaved the hair growing on each side of them. His hands moved with sure certainty, and although the thought of something that sharp so close to her clit filled her with dread, his touch exhilarated her.

He set the razor back on the tray. He brought out another towel and poured some of the hot water from the thermos directly onto it. If it was too hot for his hands, he didn’t show it, but it was almost too hot still when he touched it to her pussy, cleaning up what remained of the soap. Her pussy was all bare. She leaned forward until she could see her clit, half engorged and out of its hood with nothing hiding it.

“What do you say?” he asked.

She blinked.
What am I supposed to say? Gee, that’s bare? It tickles? I want to be fucked now? Oh!
“Thank you, Master.” She wasn’t sure she felt like thanking him, but she felt very sensitive, extra alive between her legs. With no panties and now hairless as well, the air was cooler, as if a soft breeze had started blowing.

He pushed the tray to the side and knelt down on the floor between the two seats. He bent forward and inhaled, sighing with pleasure, as if the scent between her legs was the best perfume ever. He licked her with one long stroke, starting at her perineum and moving all the way up to swirl around her clit.

He pulled back and blew cool air over her. The lightness of it startled her, but on her newly shaved skin, it felt wonderful. He moved across her mound, blowing as he stroked her inner thigh with gentle fingers.

He licked her clit again, and the coolness was suddenly transformed to a warmth starting at her pussy and spreading through her. Each stroke of his tongue added another coal to the fire. “Hmmm,” he purred, sending vibrations that echoed the experience of the egg through her. The fact that he was finding pleasure in going down on her thrilled her. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples tight. He could do whatever he wanted, and he chose to taste her, smell her, pleasure her.

A cool finger slipped into her molten pussy. It quickly warmed. He added another. And another, stretching her. They curled inside her and found a spot that burned for their touch and made it burn more. He brought her to the edge with his tongue, then slowed down to hold her there, reading her perfectly.

“Please, Master, may I come? Please, please, please, Master?” She never thought much of begging, but she’d do it until he said yes if it pleased him.

“Come, my sweet Lulu,” he commanded, and then his tongue went into overdrive, providing firm pressure where she needed it most. She screamed, every part of her body letting go at once, white light filling her vision. She kicked at the far seat and clawed at his shoulders.

He stayed with her as her tremors started to slow. He moved back when they stopped, pulling her with him until she ended up on his lap. He kept her dress bunched up around her waist so she sat on him with her bare bottom. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his warmth and his strength as he held her.

“Thank you, Lulu,” he whispered.

It seemed strange that
he
was thanking
her
. “Thank
you
, Master.” She kissed him impulsively, and then wondered if she was taking too much charge by not waiting for him to decide when to kiss. But he kissed her back hungrily, nibbling on her lip. She could taste herself on him, and when he slipped his tongue into her eager mouth, it carried a tangy reminder of where it had been.

Before she knew it, he was totally in control of their kiss, his hand wrapped in her hair, pulling her back to get the perfect angle. She’d started it, but he’d decide where it ended. The simple change made her heart melt.

When he let her go, she slid off his lap and knelt on the carpeted floor. There was barely room for it, but she knew of no other way to express what she felt.
I belong to him
. She looked at his boots. Her heart was pounding and looking him directly in the face seemed like it might cause it to burst. It scared and thrilled her, made her want to run away and stay right there all at the same time.

She wondered if he would tell her she hadn’t asked, that she should stay where she was placed. But instead he seized her hair again and angled her head so that she was looking up at him. “You’re perfect, Louise.”

Her heart pounded like it wanted out of her skin. It felt so right.
What was I thinking, being a domme? This is perfect for me. But with Daniel, being a domme feels right too.

He smiled. “And now I don’t get hair in my teeth when I taste my lovely slave girl.”

She stared at him for a moment and then giggled. He had a way of lightening the heavy moments and filling the light ones with meaning. Her heart felt like it fit in her body again, her head cleared a little.
I have the best of both worlds, and right now, this is perfect. Tomorrow is another day, and I’m not going to let this moment pass me by trying to figure out the future.

“Almost there, sir,” said the driver’s voice through the speaker. Louise nearly jumped at the sound.

Rob pushed a button and held it in while he spoke. “Drive around the block. We’re not done yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

She blushed. He might as well have told the driver they were having sex, but they weren’t. Well, not now. He could, right now, enter her if he wanted. Whenever he wanted, really.

“Bend over the seat, Louise.”

She obeyed, feeling her dress slide back into place. It was only temporary. He pulled it up immediately, leaving her bare ass skyward.
Is he going to fuck me now?
She wanted to look over her shoulder but feared it would be bad form.

“Pull your ass cheeks apart, please.”

She hesitated. That wasn’t where she wanted to be fucked.

“Did you not hear me?”

She shuddered. She remembered his comment about six strokes from the riding crop. She put her hands on her bottom and tugged.

Something cool touched her anus. A lubed finger. It swirled around the outside for a moment, then pushed a little ways in and stopped. If that wouldn’t enter, clearly his cock wouldn’t. She took a tense breath and bit her lip.

“Relax, Lulu. It’s only a finger. Take some deep breaths and relax your bottom for me.”

“Yes, Master.” She breathed as deeply as she could, given the position, and tried to relax. His finger went deeper, then withdrew. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Then it returned, with more lube, pushing in farther, spreading the liquid around on her inner walls. All the way in. Then out again.

Oh my God, is he going to fuck me there? He can’t
. But she remembered thinking that when she realized he had shaving gear out, and how that had worked out.
He will. Unless I say no.

Instead something slender and cold entered her ass. Startled, she let go of her ass. He grabbed her wrists and guided her hands back into position without reprimanding her. Whatever it was made her feel full, but it sure didn’t feel like a cock. Cocks were warm. This felt too smooth, unnatural.

“All plugged up for the evening,” he announced. “You can straighten yourself now. You’re even allowed to have your pussy covered—for the moment.”

She turned around to sit down properly, and that pushed the plug in deeper. She gulped. She couldn’t complain that it was too big, even though it stretched her. But why did he have to have something there, of all places? She felt violated. And yet that was probably precisely the idea. Instead of thinking he was some kind of sick fuck for wanting to do things like that to her, now that she’d topped Daniel, she had an idea of what he was getting out of it. She looked at his pants and saw the nice hard ridge in the front of them.
Oh yeah, he’s getting turned on. By me. By what he can do to me. By what he can order me to do.

And I’m getting wet again too.

The whole afternoon had been one supercharged, erotic roller coaster, the egg buzzing enough to get her going but not enough for another orgasm. Her pussy would have to give out at some point, wouldn’t it? But it didn’t show any signs of doing so yet. She looked at his crotch again. “Nice boner, Mas—”

He’d pressed the button on the intercom, and then glanced at her. She pressed her lips tightly together. The driver had probably heard that. Maybe she was too far away from the microphone. She could hope. “We’re all set, thank you. Get the door for us when we get there, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few minutes later, the limo came to a stop, and a moment after that, the driver opened the door. Louise got out first, holding the hem of her dress to make sure it didn’t ride up. Rob of course didn’t seem to have any such problem. The briefcase came with him, although a few of the items he’d used were still on the tray. Louise flushed with embarrassment at the idea of the driver noticing them, until she realized he’d have no idea that it had been her pussy and not Rob's face that had been shaved. Her skin still felt extra-sensitive there, and the evening air felt especially cool under the short skirt. She was thankful in a way that he’d required her to not wear panties. Even cotton would probably irritate her unprotected, tender skin.

She hadn’t been looking out the window; she’d been so focused on him and what he was doing to her. But she wasn’t horribly surprised to find that they were at the same mansion where they’d been the night before either. She took his arm as they walked toward the mansion together. Like a vanilla couple, kind of.

“You’ll be checking your dress at the door,” he said casually.

So much for vanilla.

Can I do that?
She remembered how exposed she’d been when Spike and Rob had played with her.
Yes, I can. Not without blushing, probably, but I can
. Her traitor pussy tingled at the idea, but it made the rest of her nervous. Well, not quite all the rest. Her nipples were hard, rubbing against the dress. She didn’t know if she’d miss that friction or not.