Undone Dom (4 page)

“I told you I wouldn’t touch you today, but I think you need me to touch you,” he said, voice low.

Lulu caught a breath then nodded.

“And I want to touch you.”

“I want it…too much.” She hugged herself.

“You’re afraid of what you’re feeling.” He rose from his chair, movements slow, as if afraid he would spook her.

“I’ve never been so aroused before,” she whispered it, ashamed. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

His eyes flashed and he closed the distance between them. He didn’t touch her but she could feel his body heat. Almost against her will, her arms dropped, exposing her body to him. When she realized that she’d swayed toward him, breasts lifted, she let out a soft cry and turned away.

“Don’t be afraid of what you’re feeling. Give yourself to me.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” Lulu closed her eyes, his heat at her back so enticing, so inviting. “I can’t be Cheryl, quiet and patient and obedient. You know what I want right now? I want to kiss you. I want to feel your body against mine. I want to touch you and then I want you to spank me and put those chain things on me and do—” She ran out of words so she motioned vaguely around the room. “Things.”

Saying it out loud helped her resolve to leave. Now she knew—she was definitely submissive, as he’d said, but she was fire and Alton was ice. Together they’d just be tepid water.

“I know you train slaves, but I can’t be that. I need to go, before we start something that will only upset us, me.” The words hurt as they came out.

“You want to touch me. Kiss me.”

It was a statement, not a question, but something about the way he’d said it held her in place, kept her from taking the next step.

“Cheryl is not mine. The women I train…they’re not mine. It
would
be different. You are mine.”

His.
She felt him there, at her back, so close his breath fanned her temple. She closed her eyes.

“Luanne, ask me to touch you,” he commanded.

She didn’t hesitate. “Please, touch me…Master.”

His arms came around her, hard and unyielding as steel. One arm crossed her ribs, his hand cupping her breast. The other pressed her hips back into his, his hand covering her sex. They were fused together from knee to shoulder, his chest against her back.

Lulu cried out in surprise, in arousal.

“Accept this,” he whispered in her ear. “I am your Master and I will touch you whenever I want, whenever it pleases me.”

“Whenever I need it?” she asked, legs trembling with the need to grind herself against his hand.

He paused then inhaled deeply against her neck. When he spoke his voice was a growl. “Yes.”

His hand slid up and then delved into her panties. When his thick fingers first touched her swollen, wet sex she cried out in pleasure. Reaching back, she grabbed handfuls of his hair, arching herself against his fingers.

His thumb found her nipple in the cup of her bra, flicking it at the same time his thick middle finger found her clit.

With only a few strokes to the sensitive bud he had her near orgasm. Lulu cried out, ready to come when he stopped, pulling his hand away.

“No, please!” She thrashed in his arms, grabbing his hand and bringing it back toward her sex. “I’m so close.”

“You must have my permission to come.”

Lulu could have screamed in frustration. She spun in his arms to face him. “Then give me permission!”

He smiled. That sexy, slow grin worked its way across his face. He was
so hot
.

Lulu grabbed his head, stood on tiptoe and kissed him, hard. He tasted good. He smelled good. His hard body felt good against her. When his tongue touched hers, then slipped into her mouth, she released his head to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

Alton grabbed her under the ass and lifted her. He carried her a few steps before setting her down. He reached down and jerked her thighs open wide, sliding one hand up toward her core. His thumb slipped under the edge of her panties and into her sex to find her clit.

Lulu broke the kiss, throwing her head back as pleasure racked her. “Please, please, may I come?”

“No.”

“Why?” she cried.

“I’m your Master,” he grunted.

She felt the ridged length of his cock rub her thigh.
Yeehaw!
He was hung too. “Okay, then please, please fuck me.”

“No,” he growled. He grabbed the top of her bra and yanked it down, her breasts popping free.

“Why?”

“Address me properly.” His thumb had stopped working her clit.

Lulu’s mouth formed a little O of realization. “May I please come, Master?”

As soon as she said it she knew why he’d insisted. The word added a layer of rich darkness to the moment. He caught and held her gaze as he cupped her bare right breast in his hand, thumb working the nipple as the other thumb touched her clit.

“Come.”

Lulu came, the orgasm shuddering through her with bone-shaking intensity. When it was done he kept going, kept touching her even as she stuttered out that she’d finished. When she tried to close her legs he held them open with his own, then commanded her to spread her legs and to play with her left nipple.

Shivering from the intensity of having her post-orgasm sensitive clit touched, Lulu raised her hand and gently pinched her untouched left nipple.

“Good girl. Now look at me.”

She met his gaze, her whole body trembling and tense.

“Let go. You’re tight, holding back. Release that, release the muscles low in your belly. Let go.”

Lulu frowned but followed his instructions. The moment she did a second orgasm ripped through her. While the first had been deep and low, this was high and sharp, racing along her nerve endings. She screamed and gasped in pleasure, pressing her head into the hollow of his throat.

Alton’s arms came around her, one at her waist, the other cupping the back of her head.

Lulu couldn’t believe what had just happened. She’d begged a man she’d known for a total of less than three hours to fuck her, to touch her, and in her arousal high she’d agreed to be his sex slave.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t panic.”

Lulu stiffened, alarmed at how easily he seemed to guess what she was feeling.

“Once the arousal is gone everything in here seems terrible and frightening,” he said quietly, his deep voice rumbling up from his chest. “Many Masters keep their slaves in almost perpetual states of arousal, rarely giving them release for that reason.”

Lulu grimaced at the idea.

“You’re worried and frightened and angry with both of us.” Alton lifted her down off the gymnastics horse where he’d set her to finger-fuck her. “Remember how it felt to see Slave Cheryl being spanked. Think about my touch. And imagine what it will be like when it’s you over my knee.”

And with those words fresh arousal flooded her. Lulu gasped and ripped herself out of his arms, heat washing over her, adding to her embarrassment and panic. She met his gaze, seeing something there that might have been vulnerability, but she was too scared to stay. She turned and ran.

Chapter Four

Alton tried to focus. Master Warren and his slave Maria were seated in the small guesthouse office. Like everything in the guesthouse it was used primarily for BDSM, and a variety of equipment for office-style scenes was scattered around. For verisimilitude he had a large desk. Subs and slaves whose Masters wanted them to play secretaries got bent over it to be spanked.

Warren sat beside him in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Maria knelt on the floor between them. As was Warren’s preference, she knelt while sitting back on her heels, knees only slightly spread, palms up on her thighs.

It was just after two—four hours since Lulu had bolted—and he’d barely managed to get himself together in time to do one last training with Maria, who’d been with him for the past week, in time for this meeting with her Master.

Warren was petting her head and Maria had shifted to lean into him. Unlike Cheryl, she hadn’t been sent to him for behavior correction. Maria’s problem had been much more interesting.

“Well, is there any hope?” Warren joked, forcing a chuckle, but there were worry lines on his face.

Warren was in his mid-fifties, Maria had just turned thirty. He’d introduced her to the lifestyle, though he’d met her in a club that catered to both goth and BDSM, so Maria had been aware of the scene. Alton remembered when he first saw Maria at a party. There had been streaks of blue in her hair and facial piercings galore. Now she was a pretty brunette with pert breasts and bars through nipples and clit hood only.

“I have good news and bad news,” Alton told the other Dom.

Warren was a rope bondage aficionado. He could tie Maria up in some truly elaborate webs. The problem was that starting six months ago the bondage no longer aroused Maria as it once had. He’d spend hours tying her, only to her finger her pussy and find it dry. This had led to fights and hurt feelings on both sides. Alton sympathized—Warren was passionate about his rope bondage, and before it used to take only a few passes of nylon rope for Maria to be begging her Master to fuck her. They’d even visited a doctor, but there was nothing physically wrong with her.

Warren had sent Maria to him for his opinion and hopefully to find out what was wrong.

“What’s the bad news?”

“Maria no longer finds rope bondage arousing.”

Warren’s hand formed a fist in Maria’s hair and she whimpered. “I know that, that’s why I brought her to you.”

“Your mistake was in assuming that was the problem. It is a problem only for you, because you prefer it. Just as your tastes as a Dom have evolved, so have Maria’s. And you’ve ignored it.”

Warren’s lips pulled back from his teeth, his hand fisting in his slave’s hair. Maria glanced at Alton, begging him with her eyes not to do this. Alton reached over and gripped the other man’s wrist hard enough to force him to release his hold on her hair.

“Slut,” Alton said, “get up on the desk and spread your legs.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then with a little wiggle of pleasure she jumped up. Alton casually slapped her ass as she went by.

“Slut?” Warren sputtered. “That is not how she is to be addressed.”

“Slut,” Alton said again, focusing on Maria. “Show your Master how dirty you are. Spread your pussy open.”

Without hesitation, Maria reached between her spread legs, pinched a lip in each hand and opened herself.

Alton looked at Warren. He was shocked. The bondage masters were often an elegant and comparatively conservative group.

“The good news,” Alton said, “is that I went through the spectrum of kinks and subcultures with her. Maria is a little slut who likes showing off. She also likes a bit of humiliation, though nothing severe, and to show off her sluttiness for her Master.”

“Maria?” Warren’s voice was riddled with shock and Alton could see the joy and sexual power that had filled her deflate.

“Slut,” Alton reached out and pinched her nipple, giving the bar a little twist. “Go get the biggest vegetable in the refrigerator and bring it here. Go.” As she left he slapped her ass again.

Alton looked at Warren. “You’re very lucky.”

“She’s my little rope princess, not some base pain slut.”

Snob.

“She’s not a pain slut.” Warren’s words had set off warning bells for Alton. If he let them leave with Warren believing Maria was a pain slut she’d be subject to some angry beatings that would be truly harmful for both of them. “She doesn’t enjoy pain without clear physical pleasure accompanying it. She enjoys being told she was naughty and being punished, but more than anything she enjoys being sexual. That is what was missing from the rope play.”

“But she used to…”

Alton shook his head. “Tastes change, people change. If you don’t want her anymore leave her and I’ll connect her with someone who will appreciate her and give her what she wants.”

“But, but I love her.”

Alton gritted his teeth. Love. Love was an excuse for people who were bad for each other to stay together.

Maria crawled back into the room, a massive cucumber in her hand. She placed it on Alton’s lap.

“This was the biggest?”

“Yes, Master Alton.”

“Stand up, bend over the desk, show off your ass and pussy to your Master and I.”

She jumped to her feet and bent at the waist. She spread her legs.

“I can’t see your pussy, open it for me.”

Using two fingers, she separated the lips of her pussy.

“Are you wet?”

“Yes, Master Alton.”

“Good, then you can take this big cucumber and fuck yourself with it.”

“Oh no, Master Alton, it’s too big.” Her words were breathy, her protest a plea for him to force her to do exactly what he’d said.

They’d done this dance several times until Alton figured out exactly what brought her the most pleasure. She wanted her Master to force her to show him how sexual she was, to give her permission to be that way.

“I want it big. You can take it, can’t you, pretty slut?” Alton slapped her ass a few times, flicked the bar through her clit hood. Her heavy breathing was loud in the suddenly quiet room. He picked up the cold vegetable, which was thicker than any cock, and pressed the tip to the entrance of her body. “Take this and shove it in your pussy while your Master and I watch.”

Her slick fingers grabbed the vegetable and started working it in. Her hips gyrated, ass wiggling as she struggled to push the thick, cold cucumber in. Alton watched Warren, saw his eyes widen, his fingers flex as he watched the woman he claimed to love moan, thrash and make fake protests as she worked herself. When it was halfway in, enough to stay by itself, Alton forced her to stop.

“Your Master and I want to examine you, want to see how slutty you are.” He looked to Warren. Almost tentatively the other man came out of his chair. He dropped to his knees behind his slave and traced the entrance to her body, where the cucumber had stretched her flesh to a shiny pink ring. He grabbed the cucumber and pulled it out half an inch, thrust it in again. Maria moaned in pleasure.

He rose and bent over the table, one hand on the cucumber, working it in small thrusts as he whispered to her. Alton watched them, prepared to step in if Warren did or said anything to hurt Maria. It was possible that Warren simply wouldn’t be able to give her what she needed.

Warren stood and spanked her lightly. “What a beautiful slut you are.” He traced his hands up and down Maria’s back before pulling the cucumber out and inserting three fingers into her gaping pussy.

“Oh yes, oh yes, Master!”

“Not yet, beautiful slut.” Warren dropped to one knee and worked the cucumber into her. “You need to fuck this for now, because you’re a…dirty slut.”

Alton nodded. They might be okay. Warren would need time to reorient himself, but if he cared for Maria as he claimed, he would learn. He watched Warren returned to his chair, eyes glued to his slave’s pussy.

“Now, Slave Maria,” Alton said, “you’re going to take that cucumber out of your slutty pussy and shove it up your ass.” Maria moaned and shivered—she enjoyed ass play and Warren almost never used her anally, something Alton hoped Warren would correct. “And as you do, you’ll tell your Master all the things we discovered you like while you were here. And if you lie, he’ll know. I prepared a list for him.”

Alton rose from his chair, taking his glass of ice water from the desk. He plucked an ice cube from it. He held it against the puckered rosette of her anus for a moment before pushing it in. She cried out in surprise and pain. He took a second one and pushed it halfway in, held it in place with her anus stretched around it as if it were a plug. Behind him he heard Warren’s breathing speed up.

“When your Master takes you home you’ll be a good slut, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master Alton. I’ll be a very good slut.”

With a nod to Warren, he indicated a file in a bag by the corner. In it was the write-up he’d done on Maria. It was next to an exterior door, which would lead them outside. Once Maria started her recitation, her Master would learn that she liked being paraded around outside under the pretend threat of exposure and potential humiliation. He hoped Warren took advantage of the guesthouse’s small private garden to abuse her.

Alton left the office, closing the door behind him. He was glad. It seemed they’d work out. Maria was a good slave, and she’d broken down several times about her fear that her Master wouldn’t want her if she was too sexual and no longer enjoyed rope bondage.

Too sexual was a problem most Doms would love to have. It was certainly never a problem Alton had had. He closed that mental door with a slam. He needed to check on Slave Cheryl. He’d worked with both her and Maria this morning BL—Before Lulu—and again over lunch AL—After Lulu, when they’d eaten as a group to practice table manners for Cheryl. It was time-consuming feeding two slaves by hand, but since those who stayed with him were often responsible for their own breakfast and he didn’t usually spend dinner with them he tried to take advantage of every training meal he could.

If he’d been distracted and harsh, neither of them had said anything, especially because he gagged and spanked them both afterward.

He wanted Lulu back. She was perfect. The rational part of him knew it was foolish to think things like that, but as he’d watched her nearly come simply from seeing a spanking he’d known she was perfect. Sexual, submissive and feisty enough to be interesting to train.

And then she’d said she wanted to touch him.

No one had ever said that to him. He brought slaves and subs to the heights of both pain and pleasure. They’d begged for everything on earth. But only Lulu, in her moment of arousal, had asked for
him
.

He’d told her the truth when he said if she was his it would be different, she would be different. He wouldn’t make the mistakes with her he’d made in the past. It wouldn’t be like what she’d seen with Cheryl. The slaves and subs that were brought to him weren’t his, there was always someone else’s agenda and rules at play. He was the boogie monster of L.A.’s BDSM community—slaves better be good or they’d spend a week with Master Alton.

But those weeks always made them better, because they went back to their Masters confident in themselves, happy to be home, and grateful for their Master’s comparative leniency. At one time Alton had found this fulfilling, but not any longer. He no longer felt as if he was controlling this enterprise, but that it was controlling him, that he was serving the other Doms.

That’s where Lulu came in. But he’d scared her away.

He shouldn’t have touched her when he said he wouldn’t, he shouldn’t have made her ask permission to come the first time, he shouldn’t have demanded the second orgasm from her humming body. Shouldn’t have talked about how she’d be his.

That is what had scared her away—him. He was scary. He knew it and he’d learned to use it. He never set out to be that way but his size, his face, all of it was imposing.

But she’d kissed him, and every Dom part of him roared to life, demanding that he capture and keep this one for his own. It had taken all his control not to bind her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and wring orgasm after orgasm from her until she couldn’t walk, couldn’t think about leaving him.

He’d get through the day, and tomorrow, when her store was open, he’d go by and drop off a letter. He wouldn’t talk to her in her store again. That wasn’t fair, she was a businessperson, but at least if he handed her the letter he would know if she’d gotten it or not and he wouldn’t have to wonder.

Flowers. Maybe he’d take flowers.

He’d never given a slave flowers before.

Well, there’s your problem right there.

Alton refilled his water glass from the pitcher in the fridge. As he took his first sip he heard the front door open. Frowning, he set his glass down and faced the interior door. Only people he invited had the security code to get in the driveway, which he changed monthly.

No one came through the inner door. He frowned but waited, figuring it was a slave. No one new was coming today, but he’d occasionally had one show up, often naked, with a note from their Master about what they wanted done.

The inner door opened.