Natural Law (8 page)

Joey W. Hill

dragging across his slick skin. His cheeks clenched beneath her spread legs, and she bent her knees, running her pussy down along the crease of his ass, kept sliding down so she took the oill from his bare back to his buttocks, moving in slow circular movements to grease those powerful haunches, her now oily thighs rubbing his hips from her astride position.

She came back up, but didn’t put her full weight on him, just enough to get the job done and let him feel a hint of her, the press of her thighs around his hips, the slide of her pussy over his spine, the soft give of her breasts caressing his shoulder blades.

“The nice thing about this is that the oill of my cunt is being rubbed into your skin with the liniment,” she murmured, enjoying being astride her steed, feeling his power bunched and coiled between her legs, knowing his cock had to be stiff against his belly, and pressing against the restraints of the harness again. She ran her touch down behind her, one hand sliding down the channel of his buttocks, fingering the strap that ran behind his scrotum, holding the contraption in place. The muscles rippled beneath her and she heard him exhale as she fingered the soft skin, probably the only soft place on him. She cupped his sac, spreading the heated oil, and he groaned as the heat and stroke of her fingers took effect.

“You like that, hmm?” She slipped off his back and took her hands down his thighs, down the muscles she had abused by purposefully keeping him waiting. She followed one column with both hands, stroking the long length to the knee and back up again, finding a crevice between testicles and leg, and working oill in there before dropping her touch to cozen him again, kneading the thigh muscles, earning another sound of appreciation and desire.

“Do you make good pasta, Mackenzie?” She switched to the other leg, appreciating the gleam of his body, the polish effect of the lubricant. She lifted one hand from her task and drew a nail down his lower back, between his cheeks, playing lightly around the opening there. His buttocks tightened, capturing her motion.

“Please don’t make me come that way, Mistress.”

“You said please. That’s progress. Why not? Tell me why.”

“Because…” She almost heard his teeth grind as she probed, tested the tight ring of the opening. “…I’d rather bring you pleasure.”

“We already discussed this, Mackenzie. Your pleasure is my pleasure. And you’d rather not make yourself vulnerable. That’s the issue. What will you do, now that I have you tied on this bench? You can fight me, make it tougher on you.” Her other hand reached up between his legs, circled his restrained cock. “Of course, I’m not sure that’s possible.”

He made a noise of futile protest as she eased her fingers into him, deep inside, the lubricant making it easy to slide into that heat. She was soaked instantly by his clenched reaction on her fingers, the power of lust and fear quivering through him. “But why don’t you try honesty for once? Or you can spend the rest of the night scrubbing this room after I make you get yourself off with no condom.” 50

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“It makes me feel like some pre-pubescent geek fucking a wet dream.”

“But aren’t I a wet dream, Mackenzie?” She made her voice a silky purr.

Violet stood, straddled him again, keeping her fingers in him, her arm stretched behind her, testing that bundle of nerve endings that in a man was almost as sensitive as a woman’s clit. She leaned forward, rubbing her breasts against his slick back again.

Whispered in his ear, caught the lobe in her teeth. “Aren’t I?”

“Sugar, you are the wet dream of all wet dreams,” he growled, turning his head to rub against her. When she pressed her lips to his cheek bone, he lowered his head like a proud stallion in truth so she could touch his brow with her kiss.

“So what’s wrong with that, Mackenzie?” she said, turning backwards on him, her bare buttocks and pussy at the base of his neck, her thighs along the lengths of his arms.

She worked her fingers deeper into his ass, wriggled. “Ah, there we are.”

“No.” His breath bellowed out, fighting her, fighting the inevitable.

“No, what, Mac? My God, you are sexy.” She sank her teeth into his ass, tightened her legs on his body as he jerked, bucked. Held close by the wrist and ankle manacles, he could not dislodge her.

“No. Just no.” Panic was real in his voice now, but she heard the hoarseness of lust as well. “I don’t want to lose control. Mistress, please…”

“You say ‘no’ and ‘please’, but still you’re not thirsty.”

“Goddamn you,” he hissed. With a quick movement of her spiked heel, she slid a nearby pail under the bench. She tilted the edge of the container to get it under his long, erect cock, enclosing it on all sides where it was suspended in its cage of straps just at the end of the bench.

“You finally gave me a truthful answer, Mac,” she said softly, watching his buttocks clench and push, pull against her now as she fucked him with her fingers ruthlessly, brought her other hand around to feel the tightening of his balls. She loosed the harness at the base of his cock a notch, enough to let him go where she wanted him to go. “But you’re going to lose control with me. As often as I wish it. Let go now, spill your seed into that pail, or I swear I will find the biggest strap-on on that wall and fuck you blind with it before you get a single taste of my pussy again.” He didn’t growl or snarl this time. What came out was more of an enraged and frustrated roar. His knees lifted as much as they could, slammed back into the floor as his body heaved and rocked and gave up the fight, shooting jets of semen into the bucket even with the restriction of the harness, which she knew would prolong it, make it even more excruciatingly pleasurable.

“That’s it, baby,” she crooned. “Show me how much you want to fuck me.” She couldn’t tell where the wetness of her pussy ended and the oill of his back began, but she didn’t care. She rubbed both over him, marking him, working her body with the delightful plunging rhythm of his.

51

Joey W. Hill

He fought against the inevitable so hard that the strain of the powerful muscles was art in motion. She enjoyed it, every convulsion and tightening, every grunt and moan.

When his head dropped forward on the bench at last, resting on his arm, she slowly withdrew her fingers, teasing him as she went so he shuddered even more. She freed his arms, but bade him keep still with a hand to his back as she picked up a towel and lifted herself off him.

Violet took a moment or two to clean herself, conscious of his eyes upon her. She kept her expression cool and indifferent, the picture of control, until she squatted and lifted his head with her hand.

His much larger hand seized her wrist, dragged her forward and his mouth fastened over hers. Not gentle, not practiced, just raw, brutal strength and desire. She felt his teeth as much as his tongue, felt his frustration, fury and lust all there, felt her bones melt under his strength.

She could have yanked away, punished him for his roughness and breach of etiquette, but she knew that was what he wanted. He wanted her to act like an enraged Mistress. Punish him, not because that got him off, but because it would establish emotional distance, the familiar territory where he was comfortable.

So instead, she raised her other hand, stroked the side of his face, balancing his brutality with gentleness. She stroked his hair around to the back of his neck, gentle, tender loving touches that were an equal answer to his violence, until his kiss eased into a groan of need that pulled her heart into her throat.

She put a finger between their mouths, separating them, then brought her lips back to his still ones with a feather soft touch, tasting him. A cinnamon flavor, wrapped in the surrounding smell of his aftershave cologne, the scent of sex and sweat underneath that. She loved the way a well-groomed man smelled after sex, a mixture of the civilized and the primal, both offerings of respect to her. One scent indicating his desire to groom himself for her pleasure, the other indicating that he had exercised his desire for her.

Trailing her lips down his cheek, she brushed his shoulder, then she lowered her hand, unbuckled his cock harness, rubbed her thumb over the deep red impression where the point of the buckle had dug into him earlier. “Idiot,” she murmured, stroking him there.

He was soft, spent in her hand, but she could feel the little twitches, see the flare of his nostrils as she fondled him, all indications of how quickly he could be roused again. He had a fast recovery time. Good. He would need it. Because she wasn’t done with the lesson.

She rebuckled his wrists to keep him still as she rubbed the towel over him, cleaning him up. He said nothing, and she did not draw him out. She could tell a thousand thoughts were chasing themselves through his head, and the foremost might be that he’d had enough, that this was more than he wanted to give. Well, he was here now, she had him for tonight. She cleaned him with wet towelettes left in every room for the patron’s hygiene needs. She wiped him down; head, shaft, scrotum. He roused under her touch, but still he said nothing, and her nerves were starting to vibrate with 52

Natural Law

anxiety, even as her fingers itched to continue slowly stroking that cock, which was rising to life again.

She had her head bent close to his, drying the oill from his back with the towel, when she felt his lips brush her cheekbone. Suppressing the urge to turn her face to him and devour him in joy at the simple victory, she kept quietly to her task, let him nuzzle her, nibble her neck.

“Mistress, let me go, let me make you come,” he whispered against her ear.

She closed her eyes as his nibble on the lobe dropped, became an open mouthed strong pull on her throat.

“No. You can’t trust a new pet off the leash until you’re sure he’ll obey your commands. You’re a new pet, Mackenzie. My new pet. So you’ll be on that short leash until I’m sure that stubborn head and big cock of yours both understand who their Mistress is. It’s too soon.” She pulled back from him, stood to establish distance, and for the added psychological benefit of standing over him, which she knew would piss him off. “I’m going to go home,” she met his gaze squarely, her eyes impassive, though there was a spring of tension in her lower belly, just looking at him laying there naked before her. “I’m going to put a vibrator in my pussy and imagine it’s your cock.” His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice controlled, at odds with the flash in his eyes. “Take me home. Let me do it for you instead.” She shook her head. A grim smile touched her lips. “I suspect I’ll have to come a dozen times before I’ll be calm enough to sleep.”

“Then don’t do it. I’ll be worth the wait.”

“Nice try. I should give your ass a good beating, trying to give orders to a Mistress.” She gave his face a light swat with her nails, was not surprised a bit when his eyes shot fire at her.

“No, Mackenzie,” she said, her lips thinning into a straight line. “You don’t want to fuck me for the right reasons. You just want to erode my control, make me lose my senses so I’ll go easier on you next time. But I’m keeping the reins. I’m not giving up a bit of it, and I’m going to keep pushing you until I have all of you, not just the cock you’re so free with. It’s time you start realizing that having a Mistress means everything is hers, as I said before. Your heart, your mind, your soul and your body. Cock, ass, whatever I want of you is what you give me, and if you can’t get that through your thick skull, it’s going to get way rougher before it gets easier.”

“You’re the one making this harder,” he said, with a look in his eyes she was beginning to anticipate. “You’re a cock tease.” Violet tossed the towel to the side.

“You know, you get mean when you get scared, Mackenzie, but you’re not going to drive me off. You want some punishment? You got it. I can be the bitch of your dreams,
sugar
, but I can also be so much more. If you’ll stop being such a chicken-hearted bastard, you’ll find that out.”

53

Joey W. Hill

She went to her bag of personal belongings and withdrew something she hadn’t anticipated using tonight. Something that made his eyes go dark with apprehension.

“You’re not putting that in me.”

“Really? Of course not. Not if you say the words. And you know the words, Mac.

Are you ready to use them?” At his fury-laden silence, she nodded, went behind him.

She placed a hand on his backside, fingered him despite his futile attempts to jerk his ass away from her touch. “Still well-lubricated. Well, then.” He bucked up and she neatly reached under him, caught his balls and twisted, just enough to freeze him in place as he realized to move further would cause him excruciating pain. She slid the plug all the way in, to the flared wide tip. He had a tighter ass than she expected, which suggested his tension and that he did not do anal play often. She stood, took the remote and programmed it, then set it down on her chair, putting it just out of his reach.

“Now I’ve programmed that for three twenty-minute sessions,” she said, meeting his enraged glance as she turned it on. The twitch that went through his body, the jump in his cock, told her she had seated the plug right where she should. “It will build, get stronger and stronger, then go back to a low speed, then build again. I suspect it will make you come each time.” She nudged the pail under his stiffening cock again. “As regular as milking a bull for sperm. I’ll ask the staff to come release you at the end of an hour.”

His head snapped up. “You’re not staying to watch?”

“No, I’m not. They will.” She hit the ceiling switch and the darkening feature reversed. It would be a full house. Even with the soundproofing, she sensed all eyes would be riveted on the handsome male specimen below, left bound and being jerked off for their entertainment.

“Violet, don’t do this.” His face was wild, desperate, and she saw his legs trembling, already starting to feel the effects of the vibrating plug. Sweat was shining on his brow, those magnificent muscles glowing.

She continued as if he had not spoken. “At the half-hour point, I’ll send Mariah down to give you water. She’ll force feed it to you if necessary. I won’t have you dehydrated. At the one hour mark, she’ll come and release you, and you can clean up after yourself and go home. If you’ve never held a plug this long, be sure and wash yourself out with this.” She put a bottle of salve next to the remote. “It will soothe the tissues, so you’ll be ready for Friday.”