Sweetest Mistress Page 5

  “I had a crush on you that whole time,” she said. “I tried to let it go, but then when my mom got sick and I moved back to town…well, I looked you up. My mom knew yours and…well.”

  I was such a fucking moron. Of course there’d been a reasonable explanation. There’d been no way for me to really know what it was, since neither my mother, nor Joanna, nor Melissa had felt inclined to tell me. But then, I hadn’t given Melissa the benefit of the doubt.

  And she had deserved it – boy, had she ever. She’d been a little girl with a crush. Then she’d grown into a beautiful woman with amazing sweetness and confidence. And I’d just beat her ass red and raw.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was more a cry than a complaint.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head with a sniffle. “I didn’t want you to think of me as a little girl.”

  No, I hadn’t thought of her as a little girl at all. But if I had known? Maybe I wouldn’t have dated her. Probably not. And I definitely wouldn’t have done…the things we had done.

  “I fucked up,” I told her, savoring the feel of her in my arms in case it were the last time.

  Her fingers picked at the fabric of my shirt. “You were a complete asshole.”

  “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse I can give for it. What I did was unforgivable even if you’d done something wrong, and you didn’t. All I can ask is that you give me a chance to make it up to you.”

  With a sniffle, she asked, “How?”

  I tightened my arms, willing her to agree. “Punish me. I’d normally enjoy it, but you have my permission to just go crazy on me. Whatever you want to do – hit me, anything. I’ll take it.”

  “My butt hurts,” she said.

  Ah, shit – the wrench in my chest turned. “Do it. Pay me back.”

  “I don’t think I can do it to you.”

  She was right. My hand still stung from the force of my blows, which only served to amplify my guilt. If my hand hurt this bad, I could only imagine what her ass felt like. My butt hurts was the understatement of the year.

  I pushed her gently off my lap and stood up. I removed my belt first, then the rest of my clothes. My cock had been soft through this, despite the fact that I’d held her naked body. But now with the kiss of the air, it hardened to life.

  But this wasn’t sexual. I couldn’t help whatever arousal I might feel, but this wasn’t about my pleasure. It wasn’t even about hers, really. It was about payback. No, it was about redemption. If I could make it up to her this way, then maybe we could still be together. Maybe I could keep her.

  When I had finished undressing, I picked my belt up off the floor, folded it over and held it out to Melissa.

  She shook her head, looking horrified. “I can’t do that.”

  “You have to,” I pleaded.

  “Oh, Wyle,” she let out in a sigh. “You’re a mess.”

  “I know,” I half-laughed, half-choked out. Standing there with my naked, middle-aged body and my semi-erect cock, holding out my belt so she could beat me – yeah, I was a mess.

  But she reached out and accepted the belt gingerly, then stood with me. With a nod of her head, she directed me to stand at the foot of the bed. She firmly grabbed my wrists and placed my hands on the footboard, a low wooden railing.

  I could feel the air shifting as she assumed her role, the power I had given her. It didn’t matter that her eyes were still puffy from the crying or that she sniffled every few seconds. She was gorgeous and sexy, and for now anyway, my Mistress. However temporary, in that moment she could have asked me to walk through fire, and I would’ve burned for her.

  I must have made quite a picture, holding fast to her footboard. An ugly, pathetic picture. Perfect, because what I’d done to her was both ugly and pathetic. There wasn’t really a more vulnerable way for a man to stand than with his ass out like this. From the beginning of time, it had meant he was going to get fucked or he was going to get whipped. The former would definitely be preferable, at least where Melissa was involved, but it was the latter I’d signed up for, begged for.

  “Please,” I said, my head lowered.

  Her fingertips trailed down my shoulder blades, so light I wasn’t even sure she had done it. Down along my spine and between the dip of my ass cheeks. When her fingers found my balls, they wrapped around them and squeezed.

  I gasped.

  The belt landed in front of me in a soft thud of leather on fabric and clink of the buckle.

  “No,” she said. “I’m not going to.”

  My pain-hazed mind processed that. She wasn’t going to do it. No, no. I couldn’t think how we would stay together if she didn’t. Well, I couldn’t think much of anything at the moment.

  “I don’t want to. And besides – ” Her fingers tightened on my balls. “ – if it’s supposed to be a punishment, shouldn’t I get to pick?”

  “What do you pick?” My voice was too high, almost a squeak, but then she literally had me by the balls.

  “This,” she said. “I’m going to play with your body, and you’re going to take it. That’s easy enough, right?”

  I did squeak then, because her fingers punched up into my sack, pushing my whole body up on my toes. Even my arms strained against the footboard, as if I could lift my body up off her hands.

  “How long do you think you could stay like this?” she asked.

  Oh God. Suddenly this punishment seemed so much worse than the belting.

  Abruptly, she let me go, pulled her hand away completely. A sound escaped me, somewhere between a grunt and a cry – almost bereft. I locked my elbows and knees hard to keep from collapsing to the ground.

  I almost came, too. I closed my eyes, concentrating on staying upright and on not climaxing, thinking that I’d only be able to achieve one of those goals, probably. I felt a touch on the tip of my cock, not the cool, flatness of the footboard, but the soft warmth of – I opened my eyes – her palm.

  My hips jerked back. “Sorry,” I gasped. “Can’t hold it.”

  “You’re going to come?” She sounded amused, and I could be glad at least, through my pain and my arousal, that I’d made her happy after making her cry.

  There was the sound of drawers opening and closing behind me, some rustling. Then she knelt down next to me. Her hand on my cock sent violent shudders through my body. But her touch was mechanical, business-like, and I managed to hold my orgasm in.

  She tied something at the base of my cock. Something beige and stretchy – one of her thigh high stockings. It was a bow, with tiny ears and two long tails hanging down to my knees. My dick, thick and veined, stood up proudly from the homemade cock ring. It was the most ridiculous-looking present I’d ever seen.

  “Good?” she asked.

  It felt tight, but not painful. Even standing here, doing nothing, I could feel my dick engorging, throbbing with the blood that maintained my erection.

  “Good,” I whispered.

  She left again, but this time she went to the bedside table where I could still see her. Opening the drawer, she studied its contents the way I imagined a surgeon examines his tools. Her hand touched one, two things that I couldn’t see from this angle, and then she picked up something long and black.

  Without a word or gesture to acknowledge me, she came back to stand behind me. Her fingers groped around my asshole, probing, testing. Oh, God.

  Soft wet sounds came from behind me, though only her dry fingers were on me. And a little bit in me. Then the large rounded tip of something slippery replaced her hand. A dildo, I realized, that she’d lubricated with her saliva. Christ!

  The pressure against my anus built and tightened until I was sure it would tear. But when the thick head popped inside, I realized I had more to give. In it went, so slowly, every centimeter feeling like an inch. Finally it paused, and I panted through the pain.

  She knelt beneath me, kneeling so that her back was to the footboard and my cock was in her face. With a gentle suck, she slipped my dick in her
mouth. My ass contracted tight around the invasion.

  “Ahhh,” I cried. It was good that she’d tied up my dick first, because I definitely would have come if she hadn’t. Even with the stocking of shame, it was hard to hold back. My fingers turned white clenching the footboard. The dildo slipped slowly out, a long plastic cock of shame, and fell to the floor.

  She sucked me gently, sweetly. Reverently. I was so aroused and my dick so swollen that it hurt. Her mouth felt painfully, torturously good.

  When she stood up between me and the bed, I leaned back, but didn’t let go. She faced the bed, spread her feet apart on the floor, and said, “Fuck me.”

  In one second flat my dick was inside her pussy. I was thrusting, thrusting, about to come, but holding off. Then – thank God – she was coming, the slick walls of her sex milking me into my own orgasm. I never let go of the headboard, but it was almost worse that way, as I rammed into her from behind, pinning her body to the footboard, using my grasp on it as leverage. Even the knowledge that her ass had to be sore and hurting couldn’t restrain me.

  All the way through the final spurts and the aftershocks, I ground against her. Only when I was entirely limp, when the aftershocks of her pussy had battered my cock into total submission, did I slip out.

  My forehead fell to her shoulder as I caught my breath.

  “Stay,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said. Not that I’d been thinking about moving.

  “No, I mean stay the night.”

  Yes, yes. “Yes,” I said. I did move, then, to lead her to the bed and tuck her in. After a brief but necessary trip to the bathroom, I slipped into bed beside her. The sheets were cool but her body was warm. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and my legs around her waist, tight so she couldn’t get away. In only seconds, I slept.

  I opened groggy eyes to a dark room and a beautiful woman mounting me.

  “Hi,” Melissa whispered.

  Her warmth engulfed my already erect cock. My eyes slid shut again as I lay back and let her ride.

  I could only hope that I had made it up to her.

  I could only hope that if I hadn’t, she’d let me try again and again and again until she was satisfied.

  Check out these other titles from Skye Warren:

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  When Rachel is abducted by a group of thugs, one man steps in. Zachary wants her for himself, and she has no choice but to trust this stranger to keep her safe. When danger strikes again, Rachel's body may endure the pain, but will their tenuous bond survive the abuse?

  Keep Me Safe is an erotic story featuring explicit sex and pain, graphic language and situations of questionable consent. Not for anyone under the age of 18 or who is uncomfortable with the subject matter.

  BELOW THE BELT, an erotic romance novella

  Black belt Abe Montgomery is focused on one thing: winning gold. All he has to do is dominate the competition at the national tournament, and the sponsorships will make his dreams of owning a Taekwondo school come true. But at the opening ceremony, Abe finds Paris, a beautiful, mysterious woman with the power to threaten his drive and his dreams.

  Paris Rivera has sworn off men and martial arts. After all, her black belt cost her more than years of dedication and sweat – it was the reason she was attacked. She’s only at nationals to support her sister, and then she plans to go somewhere, anywhere, so long as she never has to see another uniform again. The uniform looks awfully sexy on Abe, though, so maybe a small fling wouldn’t such be a bad thing.

  As Abe and Paris heat up, the fight of Abe’s life looms ahead. His livelihood hangs in the balance, with the power to destroy his future with Paris. But when the time comes for them to part, he may not be able to let her go.

  BELOW THE BELT is a 30K-word novella of erotic romance, featuring explicit sex, and graphic language. Not for those under 18 years of age or those uncomfortable with the subject matter.

  ISBN: 978-1-4661-2624-4

  SWEETEST MISTRESS

  Copyright © 2011 by Skye Warren

  All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Contact the author at author.s.warren@gmail.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book please contact the author at author.s.warren@gmail.com.

 

 

  Skye Warren, Sweetest Mistress

  (Series: Fem Dom # 1)

 

 

 

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