Chapter Fourteen

 

The fog clung to the forested slope as if jealously guarding the secrets within the dense forest, the trail they walked snaking along above the ribbon of railroad track just visible through the mist far below. The trail was normally a great place to take in the dramatic beauty of the Tacoma Narrows, but this day, it was shrouded, hidden. It was a fitting scene for his mood.

“Any reason why you wanted to meet in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

Bennett, walking next to him, grunted. “I had my reasons.”

“Could’ve picked a day for this stroll when it wasn’t colder than a witch’s tit outside.”

But the lieutenant didn’t respond, instead continuing to stroll, his arms clasped behind his back. This was unlike his superior — and it unsettled him.

Finally, Bennett stopped, leaning against a weathered railing, pulling his coat tighter over his shoulders. “The reason I wanted to come out here is simple. Something’s off. I don’t really know for sure what it is, but I can feel it.”

“And good cops don’t ignore instinct,” Eldon intoned, dutifully. “Some asshole might have told me that a time or two.”

“At least I practice what I preach, right?” Bennett chuckled, but there was no humor to it, his expression growing as sullen as the thick blanket of white hanging over the landscape. “Look, I’ve… got a bad feeling.”

A chill ran down Eldon’s spine. In all the time he’d been working with Bennett, he’d never once heard him say such a thing.

“Welcome to my world.”

“You’re deep cover, Eldon, you’re supposed to have bad feelings. Those feelings keep your dumb ass alive.”

“LT, it’s just a… a feeling, right? Is it based on anything — well, more than the mess we’re facing already? Did something change?”

“You tell me, Eldon. Has it?”

He looked away across the Narrows, the fog so thick, only the very tops of the Doug firs and Western Hemlock foresting the far side were visible. The gloom was made everything seem quieter, which only amplified his own foreboding.

It was imperative that he tell his commanding officer about his feelings for Tamara. But he knew if he did, he’d be yanked from the op immediately. And probably get booted from the force altogether.

Would that be so bad?

Some days, he wondered. Yes, he was a cop — it’s what he was, through and through — but with every passing day, that sense of himself seemed to fade just a little bit more, to warp, until he feared he was losing much more than his heart to Tamara.

Again — would that be so bad, Eldon?

Despairing that this was going nowhere, that his hope was hanging by a thread, he told Bennett the rest.

“I’ll think I might have what we need after this last visit — they want me to head out there tomorrow.”

It was another lie, of course. Well, going to the Farm tomorrow was true — but the rest of it was bullshit.

“Good — we need something, Eldon. This… it’s feeling like shit’s ready to go sideways. Big time. I don’t like it.”

“I actually, uh, met Quinton Trask.”

Bennett’s head snapped around, and he fixed Eldon with an intense glare. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Did he divulge anything about what’s happening with the Trust. Anything we could use? If we could get to that scumbag, that’s the key to the whole fucking castle right there…”

“Quinton wasn’t interested in saying”—Eldon winced as he spoke the words—“much of anything, unfortunately.”

“Can you speak with him again? If you can gain his confidence, get him talking, he might let something slip. He probably doesn’t even know all that we do at this point. He might screw up — and we’d have these guys. It could blow this fucker wide open.”

Eldon looked down, blowing out a breath. “I’ll… I’ll try, Lieutenant. I’d need more time though.”

Bennett stood in front of him then, his face reddening, the words ground out, his jaw tight. “We don’t have any fucking time. I’ve given you more than I should have as it is.”

“Just… you have tp trust me, LT. A little more time — and we’ll get these assholes. We’re almost there.”

“A little more time.” Bennett jabbed a finger at him. “But for Christ’s sake, be fucking careful. I don’t like any of this shit.”

Bennett, still grumbling, started back up the trail from where they’d come, his form quickly swallowed up by the suffocating blanket of white.

I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing.

* * *

 

The butterflies were pattering in my chest as I watched the black truck finally come bounding down the final length of the driveway. It has been a week, and the wait had been interminable. Every waking moment, our last encounter had replayed in my mind, the feel of him, the way his breath came in frantic pants as he finally allowed himself to let me in, if only for a few minutes. It was even better than I could have hoped.

Though he’d run, at the end, I could see it plainly in his eyes. He’d be back. He couldn’t resist me any longer, nor I him.

Of this I was certain.

The sun shone bright upon my back, and I’d picked my briefest shorts, the thinnest top, the fabric ridiculously threadbare. My nipples — and their horrid clamps — were shown in stark relief beneath the white material of the midriff-baring top. I knew Eldon loved it as much as the other men did. I wanted to do what made him happy, if only this one time.

Before everything had to change.

I moved toward him as fast as my chains allowed. The light in his eyes… there was something missing there.

Then he squinted up at the sun, and set his gaze upon me — and that spark was back.

The warmth between my thighs reciprocated the heat I saw in him as he looked upon me.

Nathan was already pulling away as I went up on tip-toe and whispered in his ear, breathing deeply of his cologne. “Come with me first. There is no work today.”

He looked confused, then a grin creased his handsome face at the realization. “I wondered…”

Smiling mischievously, I took him by the hand, and led him back to the residence.

I swayed my hips for him a little more than usual, delighting in knowing his gaze was locked upon my bottom, as he followed my slow, careful ascent of the stairs — the hobble of my chains making any stairs a trial in even the best of circumstances.

Once safely inside his rooms, I bade him sit on his familiar couch, but this time I did not kneel. This time I would show him everything. I stood before him in the center of the sitting area, my hands clasped across my sex.

And waited.

For a long minute, the fear began to grow inside me that I’d confused his motives, misunderstood my intimate surrendering all those nights under his detailed, sometimes demanding, questioning. Had I finally made a fatal mistake?

Then he stood too, and my heart was in my throat as he removed every cuff, every chain, every vestige of what I’d been before this night.

“The top first,” he growled. “Always.”

His voice was rougher than usual, thick with a lust I knew he’d no longer allow himself to deny.

He stood close, the very air currents like the stroke of a lover’s hand as I bared my breasts to him, dropping the top to the floor as I met his gaze. Though I was bashful, I knew he took pleasure in my embarrassment—and that, in turn, fired my arousal still more.

“W-what’s happening here, Tamara?”

My voice trembled, but it was with desire, rather than fear. “What we’ve always wanted to happen, and never had the courage to try.”

He touched my lips and I trembled. How often had I dreamed of that moment of his first caress of my body?

“I… won’t be gentle.”

And I knew that too. His questions had always implied, hinted, given me the tiniest glimpse at the animal he hid deep inside. He’d already given me a glimpse of it. It would be hidden no more, and my body shivered in dreadful anticipation.

“I know. I want all of it — the ugliness, the hurt, the anger, the tenderness. Give it all to me, Eldon. For one night, let me have all of you.”

He took my hair in a savage grip, turning my chin up, making me face him. His eyes blazed with a fire I’d never seen before, but one that my body already knew on an elemental level. His thumb traced the cruel metal of one of my clamps, as I drew a sharp breath, knowing the pain they could unleash once loosened.

“You can’t make me into this.” His grip grew tighter and I gasped, the roots of my hair burning, my dripping cunt burning still hotter. “You won’t make me this.”

He slapped my face, once, twice, and I groaned, cleaving to him, crying out. “Yes, yes! All of you. I want all of you!”

His lips crushed to mine, and he kissed me savagely, taking, plundering, conquering. He drank of my fevered, panicked breaths as he worked the clamps free of each nipple in turn, the heavy metal thunking against the thick carpet. His lips devoured my neck, and I nearly passed out from the pleasure of his hot breath, his rasping tongue, his sharp teeth at the soft vulnerable hollows of my throat.

My tears spilled as the sensation flooded back into my nipples, hot liquid fire as the crushed nerves there roared back to life. I cried out as he kissed and sucked those too, the sensation making fresh tears flow down my cheeks, the river of woe matching the juices coursing down the insides of my thighs.

It was a sweet pain — because it was Eldon who gave it. He could never know the truth of that, how much power he held over me.

How much I was willing to give to him.

And so I never told him. My cries, his savage grunts, his foul curses, his growled demands, would be the only sounds of that night.

“Stand still.” He placed a finger across my trembling lips, his thumb smearing a hot tear across my fevered cheek. He met my eyes as he said it, darkness, and lust, and forever whirling in the depths of his gaze. “You move a muscle, and I’ll whip you raw.”

I didn’t answer, though my lips curved in a knowing, playful smile, recognizing it was the cape before the bull.

Still, I obeyed, looking on in fascination when it was his turn to stand before me, and I watched him, my pussy a seething cauldron of lust as he pulled every stitch of clothing from his long, lean body. Though I’d dreamed of what he might look like, as his cock sprang free, the reality of his body exceeded even my wildest imagination, the veined length of his cock was much like his tall, rangy body. Long and thick, the head broad and flushed, the glistening fluid at the tip already dripping a thin line of liquid tribute toward the carpet. I licked my lips at the memory of his taste, of his heat upon my tongue. His shoulders rippled with a striated, unbreakable strength, the primal appeal of the male animal at its finest, in its most raw — and untamed — form.

He stalked about me as he took in my nakedness, my vulnerability. My breasts heaved, the nipples swollen to twice their normal size. The feeling was already coming strongly, and I knew he would let it build, until I would beg him, rather than suffer the shame of spilling involuntarily. He caressed, and pinched, and slapped. Squeezed and stroked and raked. Every inch of me he touched, until my breath was frantic, until my aching clit stood as hard and needy as my two tortured nipples.

“How long I’ve waited. Why did I wait so long?” He took me by the throat and my breath hitched in my chest. “Why, when you’ve always been here for me? Always mine.”

“Yes,” I breathed, even as he squeezed tighter.

He slapped me again, and more tears poured forth, tears for him, for me, for the time we’d lost, for the preciousness of the short while we still had left together.

Then the head of his penis nudged between my thighs and I gasped at the feel of him. In a flash, he was driving inside, up, up, impossibly far, exploding the breath from my lungs.

“Oh… my God!”

He gave me no time to adjust to his girth — and he was thick indeed — taking up a rampant, punishing rhythm, as if by pounding into me he could exorcise all the demons that tormented him, that tortured us both.

Still buried deep within me, he rushed me back toward the bedroom, holding me by the hips, pausing to pin me against the wall along the hallway. His fingers dug tight into my buttocks, his wiry pubic hair grinding deliciously upon my clit as his cock thundered into me again and again within the jealous clutch of my sex.

Then we were in the bedroom, our twined bodies tumbling upon the bed, pillows exploding in all directions as he took me like a predator conquering its prey. In moments, we were both lost to our pleasure, riding out our ecstatic release, our climaxes a cacophony of moaning, lost, animal delight.

We laid there for long minutes, panting, momentarily spent, my sex awash in his essence, mingled with the proof of my surrender. But I knew it was only the rest between bouts, the lion gathering its strength for another return to the chase — and the conquering.

His hand stroked up and down the curve of my hip, his long fingers raising gooseflesh on my thigh.

He slapped my ass. “Get on your back.”

I did it without hesitation, watching him as he crawled around me, his fingers drifting down over my sex, the tips easing through the slickness between the lips of my pussy.

His hands clamped down on my thighs, dragging me down to the end of the bed. His grinning face appeared between my legs, a look of pure, dark triumph dancing in his eyes. His big hand slapped my inner thigh, and I gasped at the hot burst of heat.

“Open them — wider!”

He smeared the glistening wetness at my sex into the sensitive join at my thigh, making me grunt. Then he did it again, the other thigh this time, obviously taking pleasure at the way it made me tremble.

Forcing my legs apart until I felt as if I might split in half, my slit burning, he dropped his gaze to my sex, his eyes taking it all in.

“Jesus fucking christ… this cunt. So beautiful.” He glanced up at me. “You’ll leave these legs open until I say you can close them. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, breathless, already aching at what I hoped he was about to do.

Then he surprised me again, his hand slapping my pussy now, the hard tips of his fingers catching the hood of my clit in a way that made me yelp.

But he said nothing, looking up to me once more as he slapped me again, the blow harder.

“Did you like that?”

“No… no, sir.” It was a lie. It hurt… but in that pain was a dark pleasure too. Something I could never tell him.

“That’s too bad.” He smacked my pussy over and over, my body jerking with each blow. “Because I like it very much.”

Occasionally, he splayed my lips apart with his fingers, retracting the hood to allow him to strike my clit directly with his fingertips, the little slaps threatening to make me scream in agony and ecstasy.

Then, when I thought it might be too much, he lowered his soft, wet mouth to my punished sex, and I dropped my head back, a long, lost moan drawn from deep inside me as his lips and clever tongue soothed my hurt.

I don’t know how long I laid there, the tendons at my inner thighs aching, as he feasted on me, each drive of his tongue deep between my labia making my groan. He licked my clit over and over with the broad, flat of his tongue, his eyes locked upon mine as he did.

“Good girl,” murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my mound. “Eyes on me.”

His lips closed over my clit, and as the suction began, two long fingers pushed deep, the tips curling upward, making me pant with it.

The intense pressure and heat was building, threatening to boil over, my breath a frantic panting now. I grasped his hair, my legs repeatedly closing around his head . Though his growl was a warning, I was beyond obeying, his lips and tongue and fingers driving me toward the pinnacle.

His fingers pushed faster and faster, the pace matched by his swirling tongue, his lips drawing upon my throbbing clit in a way that I though might actually end me.

“Oh fuck… oh fuck… I’m… almost!”

A final swipe of his tongue and the hard edge of his teeth just grazing the side of my clit set me off, my frantic cries lost in the outer space he’d launched me into.

That evil mouth didn’t stop though, staying with me, sucking, licking, owning. He destroyed me with it, leaving me begging him, my voice a rasp, my clit on fire even as he forced me into one last orgasm, the hard spasming deep in my belly almost painful, my hips bucking against his chin.

Then I collapsed back, and my desperate cries were a wordless plea, the pleasure and intense sensation overwhelming my ability to speak.

Finally, he took mercy on me, his brilliant dark eyes peering up at me as he slowly licked his fingers clean, his striking, gorgeous smile confirming his male pride at compelling yet another surrender from me.

He stood up at the foot of the bed, looking down upon me for a minute, his expression unreadable. Then he extended a hand. “Come on. Up, my girl.”

I took his hand and he drew me off the bed. He smiled at the way my legs shook, the muscles in my legs feeling positively rubbery. He held me about the shoulders as he guided me over to the couch.

But rather than lower me down to sit, he took a seat instead.

Still holding my hand, he pulled me closer until I stood within the span of his thighs.

The heavy weight of his semi-erect cock lolled to the side, the broad head a reddish-purple that I already longed to take between my lips again.

Down, girl.

“Turn around.”

My mouth dropped open, and I froze, unsure what he intended.

“Do as you’re told,” his voice rumbled, an octave lower that seemed to vibrate the center of my clit like a tuning fork. “You know better.”

Facing away from him, I pressed my hands to my face, suddenly embarrassed, bashful in a way I hadn’t felt since the very early days with my former master. I’d been on display countless times at the Farm, but this was different, far more intimate.

Because this time, I genuinely cared about the man looking upon me, the male drinking in and enjoying my shame.

“Now, this”—he smacked my bottom so hard that I went onto my toes, reaching back to grab it as I hissed—“there’s something wrong. Though this is one of the finest asses I’ve ever had the privilege to see… it’s missing something. Do you know what that might be?”

My heart was in my throat as I stood there, trying to rub the sting from my bottom. “I… I don’t know, sir.”

“This bottom is perfect.” He slapped my hands away, kneading both of my buttocks in his impossibly hard, strong hands in a way that was a confusing mix of wonderful and painful. “Except for one thing. It doesn’t have any marks. My marks.”

Before I could reply, he took hold of one of my wrists, pulling down and using my upper arm to bend me over his legs. I struggled slightly at first, but his heavy hand spread over the slight sheen of sweat at the small of my back.

“Still. This is happening. You need to be a good girl for me.” He caressed the trembling curve of one of my buttocks. “Can you be a good girl for me while I spank this ass for you?”

“Y-yes, sir. I think…”

I’d rarely been spanked in my time on the Farm, my breasts seeming to draw most of the attention from the males in attendance — for obvious reasons. I’d been whipped or caned now and then, mostly by Heller, but those were for infractions, as discipline.

This was something else entirely. This… was deeply sexual.

As I knew he would be, he didn’t stop to lecture, to explain what he was doing, why he was doing it. We both knew he was doing it simply because he could, and that knowledge — even as the first searing spanks began to rain down upon my ass — had me practically dripping again, the stirring deep in my belly making me moan with it, the illicit, twisted pleasure at submitting my bottom to this man.

A man who very much intended to leave that bottom hot, sore, and aching.

At first, the blows were slow, if hard, and I allowed myself to hope this wouldn’t be so very bad after all.

I was soon proven wrong.

Each stroke growing harder — and the pain hotter — with each one, I began to squirm, his hand pressing me down at the back so hard that I felt staked to his thighs. Immediately his penis was hard again, jutting against my hip as his hard hand slapped down across my bottom over and over.

I was whimpering softly by the time he rested, his huge palm circling over and over across my cheeks. My flesh was seething, but the pain was still bearable.

“You’re being good, so far.” He pinched the middle of one of my cheeks, shaking it, and I drew in a sharp breath at the sting. “I like the color here. Very pretty. Does it hurt, girl?”

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered.

“Good, we’re getting somewhere then.”

He started once again, and within moments I was begging him, pleading for mercy. But he granted me none, his hand continuing to lay down fresh marks, another layer of fire building across my seething, aching bottom.

He only paused to adjust me over his lap, or to give me an order.

“These last few will be the hardest. I want you to keep this ass of yours relaxed for each of them. You have a nice, big round bottom. It was made for this, for discipline. I want to see your soft, pretty cheeks jiggling each time I spank them. You understand? Be good for me.”

“Please, sir…!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I knew he would if I really needed him to, but as much as it hurt, we both knew he would take me deeper into that red hell of sweet, erotic torment. I needed it as much as I feared it.

Letting my body relax, I gripped his lower leg with both arms, surrendering to the inevitable. “N-no, sir.”

Incredibly, his lips pressed a loving, almost tender kiss to the crown of my right buttock. “I knew you were my good girl.”

He lined up each spank then, laying his palm across the cheek he intended to brand with the next stroke of fire. At each one, I cried out, Eldon waiting long enough to let the pain fully sink in, even as he murmured to me to be his good girl, to be obedient, to submit.

The last handful were a quick, searing flurry of spanks, and before they were completed, I burst into tears. Finally, mercifully, it was over, and as he gently caressed my bottom, he stroked fingers through my hair.

“I’m so proud of you, Tamara. Such a good girl.” He kissed my agonized, burning bottom once again. “A very good girl. So brave.”

He stroked, and caressed and cooed until my shaking and sobbing subsided to mere sniffles. I wiped a hand across my eyes, and he handed me a tissue for my nose. I could’ve kissed him for that tiny kindness at that moment of my greatest shame, my deepest humiliation.

The same shame and humiliation that made my clit throb, made the wet heat between my thighs burn still hotter.

He brought me to my feet then, and I looked up at him, his great height over me even more dramatic when he held me close. He nuzzled the hair at my temple, kissing my ear, then locked his gaze with mine.

“Whenever I have cause to spank a woman, no matter the reason, the act — the punishment — isn’t complete until she’s proven her contrition, until she’s shown she accepts my judgment, my power over her. Do you understand?”

“I don’t think so, sir. But I… know you’ll show me. I accept it — all of it.” I chanced a smile up at him, even as the tears were still drying upon my face. “And I accept you.”

“I’ll show you then.” He bent close, the heat of his breath at my neck making me shiver. “You’re going to lay face down on that bed, and I’m going to take that bottom of yours. And it won’t be gentle either.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to start panting again. It was a deep, dark, confusing pleasure, being fucked there. I was afraid he might make it hurt.

Or maybe you’re hoping he’ll make it hurt.

But I wasn’t about to turn back now. We both wanted this, even if I didn’t have the courage to voice it.

Instead, I merely peered up at him, took a deep breath, and nodded.

The final surrender.

His smile was brief, but as radiant as the summertime noon day sun.

He found the toy display case I’d laid out that morning, and marched me straight to it, making me blush as I watched his long fingers caress and touch each implement, each object of pain and surrender. I was deep into a fog of lust, and fear, and excitement by the time he’d bound my wrists behind my back, a tight blindfold plunging me into the solitary darkness of my own arousal and shame. The tight hobble around my ankles ensured I was utterly helpless as he pushed me down upon the bed, the breath momentarily driven from my lungs. He pulled the hair from under my face only to use it as a rein, forcing my head up so that he could growl at my ear.

“Ass up, slut. Use those bound hands to show me what’s mine.”

As I breathed hard into the covers, I could just manage it, canting my hips, getting my knees under me, until my ass was at the apex, a position of display, of wanton invitation. My fingers drew my buttocks apart, my face burning hot against the cool fabric of the bedspread.

“Very good. Very good.” He touched me there, fingertips exploring the cleft. “Such an obedient girl.”

The cool slickness of the lubricant always made me take a sharp breath, and this time was no different. As a hard fingertip worried my poor, vaguely sore clit, another pushed slowly inside, the pressure enough to demand entry, but not quite enough to hurt.

“That’s it,” he murmured as his finger sunk deep. More lubricant was drizzled down across the stretched opening of my anus as he thrust slowly within. Another finger joined it, and I groaned as it too finally found purchase, the bulge of his thick knuckles making me gasp each time it pushed past the tight entrance. His touching of my now very hard clit never once stopped as his fingers worked and relaxed me. This was at once sweet and so embarrassing, the sound of the wet digits sliding within my most private of places quite audible even over my increasing gasps.

“Wider, slut!” His fingers slipping free drew a long moan from my lips, then a wet hand slapped my bottom. “All the way now. Show me that ass, bad girl. Show me how much you want me to take you there.”

I pulled upon my buttocks until it felt I would split, the air a shaming caress upon my now blatantly displayed, and well-lubricated, anus.

“Push out.” The broad head of his penis was placed against my entrance, the feel of it making me want to moan. I wanted him inside me so badly, even as I knew from sucking him… it was not going to be an easy fit.

He pushed forward until the pinch became too much, and I grunted.

“Relax, bad girl. This is happening. You’ll take every inch of me.” He advanced further as I beared down more. “Good. It’s not supposed to be easy, is it? No, not easy at all. Good… take more. That’s a girl.”

His words had me tightening upon him even as the power of their humiliating meaning had my empty, lonely pussy pulsing with need.

Yes, this was how it was meant to be, with him. Eldon’s dark side, it was coming to the fore. And even as I groaned in discomfort against the sheets, I wanted this, needed to be this for the tortured man. I would accept, and encourage, him to be who he really was.

This was part of my punishment — and I savored every second of it.

Then, my insides feeling drawn forcibly apart around the veined truncheon of his erection, he seated fully within me, his wiry pubic hair harsh against the sensitive skin of my cleft. Taking a moment to let me gasp and tighten repeatedly around the thickness of him — it was even harder to bear than I’d imagined — I stayed very still, forcing myself to remain open, relaxed, laid bare for him to do his worst.

And he did.

Before long, my breath coming in surprised gusts of air as his penis probed more deeply than any man I’d ever been with, I was already nearing a climax, despite my clit angrily throbbing from its earlier abuse.

“Oh fuck… so goddamned tight. Jesus Christ!” He grabbed hold of my bound wrists, using them as leverage, like a rein, to drive harder and harder within me, until the room rang out with the sound of his hips slapping against my very sore bottom, the depth of his strokes threatening to drive me out of my mind.

He was about to make it just as sore inside too.

I cried out in sweet, forbidden, twisted pleasure-pain as he took my ass, no amount of lubrication making his passage any less than a trial. But bear it — and gladly — I did, until he was pounding against me, driving me toward that illicit, confusing, dark and dirty orgasm that only could come with a man’s hard cock deep in my ass.

He rained harsh, burning spanks upon my bouncing buttocks, growling at me to squeeze him even if it hurt, to squeeze him because it hurt.

Then I groaned out my pleasure, finally dropping over the precipice of my orgasm as he exploded impossibly deep inside my bowels, his teeth sinking into the join of my shoulder. He collapsed over me, his cock pulsing and twitching within the jealous clutch of my body.

I lost track of how long we laid there, drifting in and out of consciousness, until eventually he undid my restraints, gathering me into his arms and taking me to the shower. He held me like that, under the hot spray, kissing me tenderly, the sweetness and possessiveness of it making me sigh. Those same arms that held me down with such delicious cruelty made me feel safer than I ever had in my life.

He made me kneel on the floor outside the shower, to watch him, and drool over him, as he washed every inch of that stunning male body. By the time he was done, I was ready for more of him — even if it required the most abject of submission on my part.

He used me in every way a man could as the day slowly gave way to night.

Making me kneel upon the bed before him, he fed me his cock again, slapping my face if I gagged, stroking my hair and murmuring wicked encouragement as he forced me to swallow his entire length, again and again. I’d never sucked a man his size before, and no amount of practice would keep it from being a daunting — but delicious — task. The prospect of failing him in that way, of depriving him of his every want and desire was far, far worse, and it drove me to strive to please him even more.

At the end, even our dark lusts finally exhausted themselves, one final plunge of his cock within me, both of us half asleep with fatigue, utterly spent, heralding my last moment before sleep overtook me.

As he panted above me afterward, my body slowly writhing, broken, gloriously used, below him, he promised me one thing, and one thing above all else, the words whispered, but no less profound.

“You’ll always be mine, Tamara. Always. Mine.”

Then I sank into oblivion, and tried not to think about what I still had to do.