Truly Helpless, Page 49

  Having her orchestrate so much of his torment was an inescapable reminder this was more than making amends. He was serving her will, always. Despite the humiliation, he'd gotten aroused again and again. Not when a woman shoved her cunt in his mouth, but when his Mistress fucked him, or watched him give oral, or touched him with trailing fingertips, reminding him everything he did was at her command.

  When the night was over, he was sore and raw everywhere. He also had the worst case of blue balls he thought he'd ever experienced, since of course he wasn't permitted to climax. With the invaluable assistance of the cock harness, his Mistress had stopped short of every near miss that happened when fucking him or letting the machine do so.

  But that didn't matter. He'd pleased her, he could tell. She unstrapped him, bade him get dressed. After he did that, he knelt at her feet, head bowed, as she made her farewells. He registered some good words about him from the Mistresses, but no one addressed him directly. That was fine, because he wanted to stay in full submission mode with her, his cock, heart and soul all of one mind in their focus on her.

  He had to follow her home, and the separation was as painful as the dig of the harness. When they cleared the doorway, he dropped back to his knees, his head bowed and knuckles of one hand pressed to the floor. "Mistress."

  "You're deep in a functional kind of subspace, aren't you?" she mused in a purr. "What do you want to do for me, sweet boy?"

  "Everything. I want my mouth between your legs. I didn't want my mouth on anyone but you tonight. Please, Mistress." He was begging for the privilege of giving her a climax before tending to any of his own needs. Begging in a hoarse voice, throat and chest aching with all the emotions she'd summoned from him today. And given him.

  She made an approving hum, but when she moved her foot so the toe of her shoe prodded and stroked up his engorged cock, he choked back a groan. "Mother of God," she breathed at his size. "Follow me."

  He followed her to her room. Another time, perhaps she would have drawn it out, for both of them, but the whole night had been an erotic feast, and she'd only let herself come once or twice herself. It was clear she wanted him all to herself, to let the full strength of a satisfying climax take her. He could help with that. He was the only damn male he ever wanted to have that honor again. If any guy thought differently, he could remove a few limbs to prove a point.

  Mine, mine, mine.

  Hers. Totally fucking hers.

  She'd taken off both gloves at the club, and now she unwrapped the satin dress, let it whisper off her skin to the floor. He devoured her with his eyes as she unhooked the black bra and shimmied out of the panties. When she put one knee on the bed, she was briefly on the mattress on all fours, a position that made his brain lock up entirely and his body howl with savage needs. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, and sent him the kind of look a lioness would have.

  "You'd like to take me like this, wouldn't you?"

  He nodded, his fists starting to clench. He made them stop, but from the light in her eyes, he could tell she registered his animal hunger.

  She turned, slid under the covers and then lifted them, inviting him under with a pointed look down her body. "Come impress me," she said, with a feline smile and heated eyes. "And then you can have whatever you want."

  He obeyed. For the next blissful, endless time, he was buried under the soft covers of her bed, his arms curled over her spread thighs as he laid on his stomach and dedicated himself to her pleasure. Licking, nipping, stabbing into her folds. Stroking her legs and stomach with his hands that she miraculously seemed to love, despite their roughness.

  But in the end, she didn't want him to bring her to climax with his mouth. And though he believed she would let him take her from behind, that wasn't what she wanted right now, either. Face to face, heart to heart; that was her desire.

  She gripped his shoulders, his hair, telling him to come lay fully upon her. Clamping her hands firmly on his ass, she wrapped her legs high on his back and pulled him inside her. A groan tore from her that matched his.

  "Fuck me, sweet boy. Hard and deep. Keep it going."

  He did, thrusting inside her cunt until they released together, with harsh cries. When she demanded the answer this time to what was the most important thing for him to remember, now and always, he didn't think at all. He just said the simple truth.

  "I'm yours. All yours, Mistress."

  He could die without complaint. Or, for the first time in his life, the unbearable pain of regret.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Marius's mind returned to the present as he paused in the archway to the social room. He found her without any difficulty, and not just because she usually favored the horseshoe booth which could accommodate her, Lyda, Marguerite, Lisette and Violet most comfortably for their regular get-togethers in The Zone lounge.

  She was a total cock tease tonight, even more than usual. Wet black latex from ankle to waist, and a velvet vest over it that had a deep plunge neckline and mesh sides that hinted at the swells of her breasts. Her boots were needle stilettos with tiny little ankle chains strung with several glittering red gemstones. She had matching tiny red beads dangling from her earlobes.

  He'd put those on her tonight. He'd also helped her dress as she'd required, only allowed to touch her as was necessary to prepare her. After he'd zipped the boot over her latex clad leg, she'd angled the sharp heel and pressed it into his testicles, accessible to her because he was naked, kneeling and knees spread so she could play with him as she desired. Sometimes he wore clothes at home, sometimes he didn't. It was up to her, and earlier tonight had been a no-clothes night. That usually meant she was in the mood to be extra demanding and domineering.

  Since he'd committed to a three-hour shift at The Zone, it had only increased his anticipation, thinking about what she might require from him when his work was done. He came to her now, kneeling at her side without interrupting her conversation. Her hand dropped onto the back of his neck, sliding under the strap of his collar to hold it and let him feel the pressure of her ownership. Whenever he was away from her for any length of time, he always felt a release of tension at the vital reconnection.

  "Shep, Tyler's partner, is finalizing the gladiator night protocol," Marguerite was saying. "Men or women fighters permitted, certain rules to prevent serious injury, but it would be primal play. Winner fucks the loser in whatever manner that winner's Dom wants. Oral, ass, genitals, etc. Obviously, the participants would be subs without hard limits involving those conditions."

  "That would be a hell of a sight," Violet said, a purr in her voice. "If it stays manageable. Things can already get pretty intense in primal play."

  "Well, Tyler's thinking is that Marius has a lot of experience in fighting, so if he wanted the extra pay, he could be the referee and call it if things are getting too out of hand. And they'd have the usual DMs watching to help break things up if needed." Regina ran her fingers along the hair at his nape. "What do you think, sweet boy? You have my permission to talk."

  He'd stiffened at the initial mention of it. He didn't want her to order him to fight. He'd realized that the fighting was his way of purging his demons, battling them back, but the violence that swamped him during it had often kept him firmly in their grasp. But as he realized that wasn't what was being expected of him, he relaxed, and chided himself for thinking she would feel otherwise.

  "I could do that, Mistress," he said. He turned his face to nuzzle her, kiss the soft underside of her forearm. When he tested her, using some tongue, she tugged his hair a little harder. "Don't push. Else I'll slap a cock harness on you."

  Which she also knew only made his dick jump to higher attention. He wanted to serve her. He wanted the other Mistresses to go about their business so he could do what he'd wanted to do all night. To bring her to screaming, clawing orgasm with his mouth, his cock, his hands, his submission...whatever got her off, he wanted to be the source and the drive for it. If that made him a selfish bastard, a
pushy bottom, he was okay with that, because if it was wrong, she'd make him pay for it. And he was okay with that, too. So he muttered his response. An infraction, but soft enough that it wasn't intended to challenge her. Just goad her and give her an excuse to be even tougher with him.

  "Promises, promises."

  She sighed, but he caught the quirk at the corners of her lips. "Have to take this pain in the ass in hand. See you later, ladies."

  "Need any help?" Mistress Lisette examined her nails. "That post tea-party event was very memorable. Wouldn't mind a repeat."

  "Not tonight," she said. "Tonight I want him all to myself."

  "Selfish bitch," Violet said, laughter in her voice.

  "Yeah, like you share. Mac has been off the market to anyone since you claimed his fine ass. Don't want to hear any BS about my selfishness."

  "It's what happens when you ladies get all monogamous," Lisette said, chuckling. "Since she has two subs, I'd ask Lyda to support me on this, but she's almost as possessive with them as you two are with your one-man shows."

  Regina rose, the banter continuing, and bade Marius rise to his feet. He followed her, any teasing disappearing from his mind as he watched the sway of her hips in the leave-nothing-to-the-imagination latex, the brush of her hair on her shoulder blades, and inhaled her scent. His heart leaped as she took him down the hall to the private rooms. That was what he wanted, too. Just her.

  When she stopped in front of Room 11, he opened the door for her. Her eyes warmed in approval. She preceded him in and he followed, closing the door behind them.

  There was no equipment in the room, though there was a cabinet he was sure had some toys in it. She might have stashed some of her own there. On the floor was a cushioned mat. Multiple embedded rings with attached cuffs were at the corners and sides of it.

  "Take off all your clothes and lay on your back on the mat. Cuff your ankles and one hand, and lay your other hand in the last cuff."

  He stripped The Zone T-shirt and his jeans, shoes and socks. She hadn't let him wear underwear tonight. He felt the telltale quiver in his fingers as he obeyed her. It didn't matter that they'd been together for months now. She had this effect on him every time she exercised a Mistress's rights. As the counseling did its work on his head and heart, it was only getting stronger. Sometimes he thought he was going to explode with all the things he wanted to do for her and with her.

  And the "with her" part was becoming just as important to him. They'd taken Dot to get spayed last week. The two of them, concerned pet parents, had watched over her the night she came home glazed and groggy. He'd held her in his lap, Regina cuddling Magenta as they watched TV and didn't do much else, wanting to keep an eye on her. It was what a family did.

  But his identity as her sub, her property, was an equally big part of who he was for her. They both liked it that way, and the second she actively exercised it, his mind shifted into that mode, like now.

  As he locked the wrist cuff onto his arm, he was stretched out on the mat, naked and under her view. Straddling him with her mile-long legs, she looked down at him from a standing position. He felt like he was looking at one of the vintage soft porn pictures that offered a straight-from-the-ground shot of a woman, an erotic view of her crotch, overshadowed by her tilted-up, exaggerated breasts. Only nothing was exaggerated on his Mistress. She was every inch the fantasy material she appeared to be. Her moist lips pressed together as her brown eyes slid over his body with leisurely, possessive pleasure. Bending, she buckled the other cuff to completely lock him down. She avoided the curl of his fingers, trying to caress her hands, with a short sound of reproof. Rising, she pressed the toe of her shoe into his scrotum, earning a wince.

  "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

  "No, Mistress."

  "Hmm." She brought a long, rectangular stool with short legs over, designed to be placed over his chest, the front legs pressed against his arm pits. She sat down on it, which positioned her so he was staring up at her above him. An adjustment of his gaze could have him looking right at her latex-clad cunt, inches away from his face.

  "I know you're not staring at my pussy."

  "No, ma'am," he said immediately, snapping his gaze to her face.

  "Lying. That earns you another punishment."

  "Can't help it, Mistress. I want to play with it. Eat it, fuck it. It's all I think about."

  "I can tell. You did a crappy job washing the dishes this morning. I found a speck of egg on one plate." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming, and he had a tempting view of her breasts, the shape all but revealed from the deep neckline. "Now you're ogling my tits." She sighed. "Am I going to have to blindfold you?"

  "No, Mistress. Please don't. I love looking at you. I can make up for it."

  "You're trying to be good, trying to be Duncan. But I know when Marius wants to come out and play." Reaching back, she took a firm grip on his cock and twisted, pulling a groan from him. "So stop blowing smoke up my ass, Marius. Tell me what you're really imagining in that disobedient brain of yours."

  He leveled his gaze on hers, feeling that aggression surge up. "Let me go and I'll show you, Mistress. Or are you chicken?"

  Her lips curved, the gleam in his eyes matching it. At one time, he would have turned and twisted a Mistress's feelings with that aggressive feeling, taking the scene in a wrong direction. She accepted his aggression and they explored it together, in some fucking memorable ways. She was more than a match for him. Far more, most times. Even when she wasn't, he could never hurt her. He'd throw himself off a bridge first.

  Rising, she moved to the cabinet and came back, holding a hood. Though he fought to pull his head away, she had it down over his head in a blink, tying the drawstring so he was plunged into darkness.

  She moved the bench over his knees. When she touched him now, he bit back another groan. She'd donned a pair of vampire gloves, the silver barbs embedded in the fabric probably catching the light as she clamped both hands on his sides, hard enough the barbs dug in.

  "Fuck." He cursed and shuddered as she dragged them downward. Regina was cleared for blood play, because Marius could take it, absorbed it. Ate it up.

  He breathed through the thin fabric of the hood that increased the sense of heat and enclosed space around him. His pulse crashed against his throat. "Chicken, hmm?" she mused. "Good thing I have a big, strong man to protect me. One I can tie up and make helpless whenever I wish. Can't I?"

  "Yes, Mistress. Fuck, yes."

  "No editorializing. Just yes or no."

  "Yes, Mistress, argh..." He strangled on it as her hands moved down to his hips, and then one was circling his cock. Oh, crap...

  His hips jacked up as she closed her hand on him, letting those tiny barbs dig in all over his rigid member.

  "No words. Be silent," she said sharply. "Take it. Take it as long as I want to do it. You serve me, don't you?"

  He nodded, obeying her mandate.

  "My sub. My slave? My property?"

  He nodded again, emphatically. God, so much violent need surging up in him, hard and throbbing as his dick. This was a simple scene, straightforward, but that was all he wanted and needed. It was more about how it was between her and him than elaborate plans. He was good with anything as long it was with her. He was going to break free and fuck her. He strained against the bonds, all his muscles called into action.

  "Did you want to fight as my champion in the gladiator fights? Take down some big strong male and fuck him at my command, showing your dominance over him, your submission to me?"

  He quivered at the idea of it, the two sides of him warring over it. Yes and no. He knew it wouldn't be good for the shit that lurked inside him. But though he'd gotten somewhat better at the hard limit thing, anything she asked of him, he wanted to do. His mouth confirmed it.

  "I'd do anything you command, Mistress."

  "I believe it," she said, but with a mild rebuke in her tone that told him, as usual, he couldn't get anything past her.
"I won't command you to do that. Because I know that's not good for my sub. But I do like the fantasy. It gets me stirred up. I know you could take down almost any male sub in this place, subjugate him to your will. Except maybe Mac. That would be an interesting fight."

  Yeah, because Mac would have to be unconscious, his head beaten into pulp, before he'd let a live dick anywhere near his straight ass. But what made Marius hot was hearing how the fantasy turned her on. She'd be so wet, watching him shove some guy to his hands and knees, hold his neck in one hard hand as he shoved his cock into him with the other. It ached in the hold of the vampire glove. Fuck, it hurt. And yet he was so fricking hard...

  She released him, scratching his upper thighs with the gloves, causing another little shudder. Standing, she moved the bench off him. When he heard a rustling, he didn't dare hope, not until she'd straddled him again and confirmed she'd removed her clothes. She was still wearing the gloves, though, making him bite back more curses as she curled the barbed fingers around him again, goading him as she guided him into her pussy and sunk down on him.

  Putting both hands on his chest, she dragged them down over his pectorals, snagging his nipples. He snarled, writhed and bucked at the stimulation and discomfort while she rode him, clutching his cock with her slick muscles.

  She was killing him.

  She rode him hard and long, and kept tormenting him with the gloves throughout, pushing out his climax farther and farther. He was growling, lifting his hips to push into her, being just as aggressive as she was. He wanted his hands free and fought his bindings, which she didn't release.

  "Let me go. I want to fuck you. Bite your nipples. Make you scream."

  "Bite my nipples hard?" she whispered, bending down to bite his ear. She drew back when his teeth snapped close, trying to return the favor.

  "Yeah."

  "Well you don't get to do that, right now. You're mine, and you'll serve my pussy as I say, not you. Right?" She snagged his nipple again and he swallowed another creative curse.