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Celeste
His kiss is heaven; his touch is fire
His heart is ice; his love inexistent
But can his dominance be my happiness?
Michele
Her stubbornness is joy.
Her fragility is excitement.
Her love? I don’t want it.
But her submission? I want it forever.
She’s taking control! But is she winning?
The Switching Role is the fourth book of the series that tells the story of a destined meeting between Celeste Hawkins-Thatcher, a spoiled heiress, and a dominant Mafia prince, Michele Colombo.
Their game has ended with Michele’s surrender, but it only opens a new one. Something that is better. And could be more exciting. One that they both will love. But can it also help them fall in love? Before secrets that can ruin them emerge? Find out in this new exciting series from the writer of Her Broken Masters series.
DISCLAIMER: This book is intended for mature audiences of 18 years and above. It contains explicit sexual, BDSM, and some violent scenes intended to satisfy the darker fantasy Catherine’s readers have.
The light blue ceiling greets me again as I open my eyes. How long has it been? A week? The doctor said I only needed a few days more and I could go home after a month of being in the hospital. Janice told me that I was in intensive care for almost a week because of the gunshot wounds. I underwent a coma for two weeks after that.
Did he come to see me?
I asked that question, but Janice and the nurses said he hadn't. He. That heartless Michele Colombo. Asshole.
Some gang went on a shooting spree the night I got shot. Michele and I were at the wrong place. Something good often happens when one of us is at the wrong place. But not that night. I distinctly remember the eerie wind that engulfed me when we kissed in front of a café. It felt perfect. As if the universe told me I should be there only to have that passionate kiss from Michele.
I don't know if it was a dream or the effect of being close to the gates of death, but I had the sudden desperation to be with Michele. I was determined to fight for my life and be with him for a long time. All I could think of was to stay in his arms and hope that he'll keep holding me until I could open my eyes again.
But he was gone when I woke up. Can I blame him? I have been asleep for almost a month. I’m nothing to him. Why would he wait?
. Could Janice be right? That man always pulls me into deep shit. My life turns into a mess every time something good happens between us. Something sexually good.
The first time we met, we had a blast. The best fuck of my life, I should say. A few days later, my life turned around. From being a bratty princess, I lost everything I had. The life I enjoyed became hell. Michele made it happen, but he also gave me hope – a weird one. I grabbed that hope and allowed myself to drown in it.
It's not love or romance, but a journey I'm starting to like. Just when a magical moment happened where we kissed with passion – for no reason at all but because it was just how we felt – things went spiraling again. I got shot and almost lost my life. Worse, all I can think about is being thankful that it wasn't him.
Janice calls me stupid for being thankful that Michele was safe. She thinks that I'm in love with him. Am I? I don't think so. It's just that both of us could have ended up hurt. Luckily he wasn't. It's something to be thankful for and has nothing to do with love.
Am I even ready for love?
“Great. You’re awake. I brought you breakfast,” Janice tells me as soon as she walks into my hospital room.
Like I always do, I look behind her shoulder, hoping that someone else will be walking behind her. Janice rolls her eyes upon noticing my action. I force a smile and rise to sit on the bed.
“I’m unlucky with men, but I’m lucky to have you,” I tell Janice.
My best friend is the only strength I have right now. Everyone else has walked away from me, but not Janice. She's something I'm very grateful to have. If only the men in my life could love me as unconditionally as her. But no. They all leave when I become of no use.
Chris, my ex-husband, left me after taking everything I had. William, my first love, left me the moment I lost everything. Michele, my ...
He left when he could no longer fuck me. Worse, they all left like thieves in the night. Leaving me with nothing. I groan after thinking of Michele. It’s a relief that he left before taking my heart away with him.
“No. Some men are just assholes,” Janice replies. “It has nothing to do with luck. Gosh. I can’t believe that I once thought that he’s the one for you.”
I snort at Janice's reply. When I first told her about Michele's offer, she suggested making him fall in love with me. When I accepted the offer, she was concerned but still excited. Now that Michele showed I'm nothing to him, Janice wants to wring his neck. Just why can't he come and visit me? I frown. A comatose woman can't have sex. Was that it?
And yet, I have recurring dreams of him holding my hand, whispering words to me, wishing me to wake up and look at him. Even when I finally woke up and Michele was nowhere near me, I still dream of him coming to me at night – doing the same things.
"You better forget about him. I've booked us a two-week vacation to the Maldives," Janice says while preparing the food for me.
"I told you ..."
"You want to start again," Janice cuts me off. "Hence, you need this. It'll be just the two of us. Let's have two weeks of sexual detox, regroup our plans, and start being adults. Mature adults."
I reach for Janice's hand and squeeze it. I hide my guilt with a soft smile. Janice has always been there for me, but I failed to be with her when she needed me. The guy she met in France was married but claimed to be getting a divorce. Janice refused to believe him. A man doesn't change his heart that fast. Janice and I are brats, but the last thing we want is to ruin a family or break up a marriage.
Janice puts the glass of milk in my hand before opening a can of Coke for her. “To becoming mature,” she declares before laughing.
“To being best friends forever,” I add before taking her toast.
“But really, Celeste, we need to grow up,” Janice reminds me.
I nod. And the first thing I need to do as a mature woman is to step away from people who can break my heart. Two weeks sexual detox. I laugh at Janice’s suggestion, but I agree with it. After those two weeks, I'll pull myself up and follow my disrupted plan.
Become a teacher.
Find a man who truly loves me.
Become a wife and a mother.
Have all the mature happiness in this life without breaking my heart.
#
"Are you not going to visit her?" Julio asks.
I stare at the documents on my table, with no answers running in my head. Julio asked me the same question every day since Celeste woke up from her comatose state. I blamed myself for days after the shooting. Julio identified the shooters, and I dealt with them.
My cousin must have learned by now that I can shake and assert what could have been mine, even when I'm not interested in leading the organization. Those fake bosses! Without my father or me and the money associated with us, the Mafia group left to my cousins is like an amateur gang. They can't even stop me from taking an act of revenge on their newly recruited capos.
But that doesn’t put Celeste away from danger.
The moment my father’s Mafia group realized that she means everything to me right now, Celeste will become the target. So, I had to downplay things and make those people believe that she’s nothing to me. Just one of the whores I picked up from somewhere. I shouldn’t show any affection to her.
But I did visit her every night when she was comatose, hoping – praying – that she'd open her eyes and look straight at me. I wasn't there when she woke up, but she asked for me. That woman. Celeste asked if I was alright instead of asking what happened to her first. She kept asking for me for the next few days until she had to give up.
I rub the tips of my fingers together as my urge to hold her increases. It's been a week and three days since I last touched her face, held her hands and laid a kiss on her lips. Julio tells me to just go with it. I'm capable of protecting Celeste with my money and the connection I still have with the Mafia group. But I'm not confident about it. The thought of losing Celeste and being the reason for it makes me tremble in terror. I can't sacrifice her. I cannot lose her.
"Take care of this," I hand Julio the documents transferring the ownership of the mansion back to Celeste. My eyes land on the documents giving 5% of her original stocks.
When Celeste got shot, I declared her to be the winner of our game. I would have given her the world to ensure that she'd return to me safely. Now, I'm keeping my word. But signing the last document will sever my connection and control over her. She can be gone from me.
I am connected to her by a game, but she can lose her life by playing it with me. Letting her win is the right thing to do. Ending our connection is the best thing for her. I can’t be anything more to her after the game.
I tightly squeeze the pen in my hand while hesitating to sign the document. A knock on the door makes me release it. “An Anika has come to say she’s ready, Sir,” my secretary tells me.
Julio gives me a look of disappointment. I push the document without signing it and step away from my desk. "Are you sure about this?"
I look at my assistant. He knows me well and can tell what I’m trying to do. I’m burying everything I grew to like when I was with Celeste by returning to my old life. The life where the women don't mean anything and Celeste is not somebody I have to take care of.
Celeste is better without me as I'm better without her. I have been living an exciting sex life that spins from controlling the women. There's no reason for me to start a boring life of having passionate sex with a woman I adore.
My jaw tightens as I keep convincing myself. It's getting worse every day. I increased the frequency of using Anika, but it didn't help. I have become more disinterested in my old life. Celeste. I only want to hold her, take her as my woman, and be with her.
When I first offered her the Cumming Game, I only wanted to punish Celeste. To make that bratty princess submit to me. I want to hear her scream under my control. But she's changing all that. No. Celeste changed all that. Now I would rather have her call me "Daddy" while she writhes under me. I no longer care if she will submit to me as long as I can have her in my arms. Punishment? Despite the excitement of the idea, I want to cuddle her and try to make her want more of me.
I need no games with her. I need her.
"Women are not liabilities, Michele," my mouth drops at my assistant's courage to tell me. "Celeste is not like your mother. She's with you not because you force her to."
I return to my desk and raise the remaining documents on the table. "She's not forced into this? She did it for these."
I may have changed my views about Celeste, but I don’t know what she truly thinks about me. Women swarm and go crazy over me because of my money and the thrill my game gives them. Celeste doesn’t seem to be like those women, but she did play with me because of the rewards I promised. Will she stay with me if she has enough to stand on her own again? To be the princess she once was – though not as rich as before?
“Just be true to yourself, Michele. When you’re with her, when was it a game?”
I glare at my assistant. “Here. Take care of all of it,” I order after signing the other document.
All these must stop. I need to stop being confused about what is vital. Celeste has decided to take control of her life. She can enjoy the money I gave her. I can't be around her and put her in danger because the past I never accepted, and the future I refuse is messing with my present.
Still, regret weakens me a bit, but I can no longer take it back. I have let go of Celeste. For her sake.
#
I sit on the king’s chair; Anika strokes my cock. Playing the Cumming Game with her is no fun. Anika’s expertise shows, but my cock seems to seek Celeste's tiny mouth.
The way Celeste's cheeks balloon as she slides my cock into her mouth flickers fire in my cock. For a woman with a small mouth, she can take my cock deep into her throat without gagging. I love how she surrounds my shaft with heat even without having to suck it hard. Her tongue can scratch my skin; her blowjob techniques are therapeutic and erotic. I want her.
Anika raises her eyes to look at me while sliding my cock deep into her mouth. Even the way she looks at me is different. Celeste shows no desire to win. Anika heavily breathes when I show no reaction while she swallows my sacs.
“I lost, Master,” Anika surrenders.
I frown at my boring victory. Anika crawls away and heads to the bench. Shit.
I haven’t even punished Celeste yet. I haven’t shown her how exciting my fetish world is. Celeste only had a glimpse of it. She doesn’t like it yet, but she’ll come to love it after tasting the beauty of having control.
It is part of my life, and I want her to be with me in it. I can teach her how to gain control of her life and the people around her. I softly chuckle while grabbing a thin-fringed flogger with a long and sturdy handle. Control the people around her? Celeste is almost doing that to me without lifting a finger.
Anika climbs the bench to position her body like a horse. Her breasts sit on each side of the board; her pussy and ass are mine to see. My personal slave is always wet, proof that her admiration extends not only to being my slave. I can smell her ambition to become my woman. Something Celeste never showed me. Become my woman? I want her to be one, but it can be the death of her.
“Master!” Anika cries when I whack her ass with the flogger. My woman and not my slave? I hit Anika again as if trying to take the thought of Celeste from my head. My slave cries, but I can't control my urge to punish her.
Cowardly? Yes. I’m punishing Anika for my stupidity of not facing the truth that I miss Celeste. I desperately want her. She’s everything I want to have right now. Not to punish, but to hold – even just the tips of her fingers. I whack Anika once more and drop the flogger.
“Master?” Anika calls as I step away from her.
“Take the night off,” I say while throwing some pain-killing ointments on the bed. “If you want to take another master for the night, I'll let you.”
“Master?” Anika quickly drops to her knees. She appears like a desperate puppy wanting more attention.
The permission to have another master means the end of our exclusive contract. Many slaves would be happy with the decision. They can seek more masters and rake more income. But then again, I pay Anika better than three masters combined. Of course, she has other plans. I've been a good "person" to her, outside my playroom and Deviant.
People like Anika think I'm a person who'll give them security. An utter lie. I can't even protect one woman without having to let go of her. So much for having the power to take control.
“Is it because of her? Your new student?” Anika’s voice sounds heavy with jealousy. “Is she better than me?”
I put on my shirt and order Anika to stand. She stands but continues to look at me with pleading eyes. I flash a quick grin at her and say, “She has nothing to do with this. I’m just not in a mood to play games right now.”
“But Master, I can wait,” Anika insists. “I can help you teach your students to become a sub and a dom. Whatever it is that you want.”
I look at Anika and become suspicious of her desperation. Come to think of it, Anika has already finished her college education last May. She can now seek a better job. I've tried to offer my recommendation, but she still chooses to be my slave.
She’s drowned in this life. That's the only explanation. It is no longer a job for her but a fetish. And she wants me to be part of that side of her life. I show a half-grin while looking at her. It's more reason to let go of her.
“Master, please. I can make your game with your student more exciting,” Anika insists.
I shove Anika’s hands when she tries to cling to my right arm. If only...If only I can make Celeste as desperate as her.
Stop!
I never go after something I have already released or put aside. Celeste should be gone from my life. I should stop thinking about or wanting to be with her and settle that she has become just another woman in my stupid game. Just another woman...nothing else.
#
And yet I find myself beside her again. I have gotten used to seeing Celeste asleep. For two weeks, I watched her until the sun rose and before Janice would come. Birds of the same feather flock together, they say. Her little friend is as feisty – brattier than Celeste.
Janice attacked me when she arrived and accused me of putting Celeste at harm. I have placed Celeste in bad situations since I've met her.
I have no tolerance for anyone who blames me. But it seems like everything and everyone around Celeste is an exception. Also, Janice gained my respect. Celeste is lucky to have her. So, to avoid running into her, I only visit Celeste when Janice has gone home.
She's still as lovely. Celeste blows soft breaths as she sleeps like an innocent child. The doctors say that her lungs will be weaker for a few months because of her wound, so she breathes through her mouth a bit. Her pale lips have attained their natural pinkish color. They look delectable now that they aren't dry.
I wish to hold her hand, wake her, and hear her voice, but I’m afraid that I will want her back. As if I don’t already want her back. Celeste's lips pucker when she blows a heavier breath. Is she still in pain? Having difficulty breathing? Is she really alright?
I let go of a soft chuckle to mock myself.
Before Celeste got shot, all I could think of was to fuck her. I couldn't stop thinking about being on top of her when I saw her beautiful face. The one thing my hands want to do the most is to brush against her skin before reaching for her breasts or her crotch. The first thing I want to do upon seeing her lips is kissing her. Ah, her lips.
My cock twitches while imagining her lovely mouth wrapping my shaft while it slides deep into her throat. My body tingles at the thought of my chest rubbing against her healthy tits. I still think about fucking her, but I tend to care about how she feels now. It's something I've never shown to any woman – except Martina.
It was more of a duckling syndrome with Martina. She showed me a world where I can take control – away from the life my father wanted me to take. I fell in love with her because of the security she gave me. I retained control over the things I wanted when I was in her world. But the moment Martina let go of me to create my world, I stopped learning how to love and treat everyone as pieces of my chessboard.
But Celeste has cracked that world. She's becoming the queen, the best piece, and the one I can't lose. And like in chess, sometimes I have to sacrifice her while I still have pawns to recover her. I want to touch her hand but hesitate. Someday, I'll get you back.
“Asshole,” Celeste mutters.
I look closer at her face. Celeste talks in her sleep, but she calls me Daddy. She never cursed me in her sleep. My body turns into a hot rock when Celeste opens her eyes and stares straight into mine.
"Asshole," she repeats with her eyebrows meeting in anger. Celeste doesn't make it obvious, but I find her checking me with worried eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asks, but I can tell the real question she wants to ask.
“Everything is fine now, right?” I ask while keeping an indifferent tone.
“Better when you’re not here,” her lips shape into a frown. She shoves my hands when I try to help her sit on the bed. “I’m surprised you still remember me.”
I want to admit to her that I've always been with her. But that will go against my plan of staying away from her – of protecting her. Right now, being in the room alone with her already messes up what I intend to do. I should leave and hear her curse me while I do so.
When Celeste looks at me with her tiger-sharp blue eyes, the feeling that wrapped me before the shooting incident returns. I remember our last kiss. It was a real one; no lust involved. But just one that seemed right and perfect. My eyes level on her luscious lips. Leave, but I can't stop ...
I pull her by the neck and cage her lips in a passionate kiss. One she couldn’t afford to resist or perhaps, missed. One that isn’t as similar as our last kiss but shares the same passion that showered us that night. I need to stop before I drown back to her. Celeste holds down my lips with hers – showing her fear of being abandoned by me. And I lost my strength to pull away and leave.
"Were you alright?" Celeste worries as she pulls away from my lips. She tightly clings to my shoulder, afraid that I'll leave. "You were not hurt or anything?"
Her genuine concern overfills me with ecstasy, and I kiss her as a reply. Celeste holds my face and brushes her thumbs gently on my cheeks. God, I miss her touch.
I shake my head and tell her, "I was fine. Now, I feel better."
#
Stupid! Weak! Shameless!
A voice inside my head batters my mind with those words. The man never visited or checked on me when I fought for my life. Now that I am safe and can move, he comes to see me? What exactly does he want? Me? Or only sex?
But instead of showing my frustration, I can't hide my feelings for him – though still vague and ambiguous. Part of me still refuses to believe it is love. Care? Maybe. But care isn't something spontaneous as we often feel for each other. Insanity. The word has more logic than the first two.
Michele holds one of my cheeks, presses his forehead on the other, and whispers, “I miss you.”
The word echoes in my ears and reaches my heart. They are the same as what the man in my recurring dreams whispered to me. The words made me want to wake up and look upon Michele's face again. Could it be?
"You've always been here, weren't you?" I ask while looking straight into his deep brown eyes. I softly punch his chest and glare at him. "Why didn't you come when I woke up?"
Michele looks at me for a while. I can see the hesitation in his eyes. He's going to lie again. We haven't known each other that long, but I have already picked up some of his nuances. Michele was good at lying to me, but not anymore.
He takes a step back, releases my face, and says, "I only came to say goodbye."
I give him a confused look. He explains that as promised, he has declared me as the winner. Our deal has ended, and Michele has a self-imposed rule of not going farther than the game or going further than being a participant in his game. No way. He can’t let that rule apply to us. We have gone farther and further. It’s not romance, but it’s not a game either.
“Congratulations. You’re the first to defeat me,” Michele says with an arrogant smile. "Though it's not a victory."
“I never thought you’re the type who’ll surrender to a dying person,” I retort. His eyebrows meet upon hearing it.
“You almost died because of me, Celeste,” he suddenly declares.
“Because of you?” I am puzzled. The police reports say another thing.
Another hesitation to reveal what he hides accompanies his silence. Michele was more transparent when he was arrogant. He was precise in showing that what we have is only a game. That we have nothing against and for each other. Now, he tries to hide what he thinks.
“Just know that you’re safe now,” Michele replies. “Also, I still want you to take your classes with Mrs. Barnes. You can’t have the same mistakes as....”
“I already won. You’re no longer the boss of me,” I cut him out of disappointment.
His jaw clenches while he controls his reaction. Michele releases a heavy breath and looks straight into my eyes. He gently nods and says, "It's your house and money now. I don't care what you do with it."
Michele shoots me with a sharp gaze, and I force myself to reply with the same gesture. His upper lip twitches to a slight frown; I scowl at him. He growls softly at my stubbornness and throws his hand into the air.
“Do whatever you want. Now, go back to sleep. I’m going home.”
My mouth drops when Michele turns his back to me. I wait for him to look back and to take steps towards me. It hasn’t happened yet, but considering what we somehow shared, I am hoping that he would. The asshole doesn’t.
“Fine!” I yell when he opens the door to step out. "Janice and I are going to the Maldives. With my recovered fortune, I can avail myself of two or three gigolos."
Michele stops and doesn’t move for a while. I can sense his jealousy from my bed. The door shakes as he grips the knob tightly. But the arrogant man ignores me and leaves. Michele! I want to yell at him. But I turn on my proud self and watch him leave instead.
A sharp pain hits my heart, turning me numb, just like when bullets hit my back. No. It’s more painful than the bullet. At least, when I got shot, Michele was there to hold me. Now, no one is there to help me with the pain. Worse, he causes it.
Love? I don’t want this to be love.
#
I stop looking around when Janice catches my sight. She holds my face to keep my head facing only her. I’m fickle-minded when it comes to Michele, but I’m not the only one. Janice shares the same trait with me.
Janice jumped with excitement like a teenager when I told her about Michele's visit. But back when I accepted Michele's offer, she was worried about how he would treat me. Before that, she thought that he could be someone I could fall in love with. Or I could make him love me.
When Michele didn't visit me – or when we thought he didn't – Janice hated him again. Now that we discovered the truth, she wants me to take another chance with him. She wants me to pull the “make him love you” card out. Can it be possible for someone like Michele?
“Sex detox is still possible with romance on the side, Celeste,” Janice suggests.
“What are you talking about?” I pull my head away and look at the flight schedules.
Janice and I are about to take our Maldives flight that afternoon. Canceling our trip crossed my mind a few times after Michele visited me, but I hesitated for two reasons. Janice needs a break. For almost a month, she watched over me and even thought of this trip for my sake. The other reason is to show my support for her quest to move on from her heartbreak. She remained by my side when I was at my worst. I need to do the same for her.
Besides, that Michele asshole never visited again after that night. I'm just a game partner to him. But his kiss. It showed a different meaning. I tightly curl my toes as annoying thoughts fill my head. His kiss? It was the same as the kiss before I got shot. It became the end of us – whatever our beginning was. That last kiss in the hospital could be our very last kiss.
Why would he stick with me?
I frown when Martina and Anika appear in my head. Whatever feelings he had for me must have been buried by now. Why won't it be? He has a beautiful and more experienced partner in Martina and a willing and skilled slave in Anika. Compared to them, I'm inferior. I don't even know how to control my life and have trouble submitting to him, too. Michele must have realized how boring I was.
Whatever. I may not be a loss to Michele, but he lost hugely on me. I will use the money he returned to....shit.
Things don't seem fun anymore because of him. I grit my teeth while thinking about the Cumming Game. Warmth surges through my nerves as I think of the times he came inside me. The top of my crotch scorches as I imagine his cum filling me. My heart palpitates hard as I remember how he looks satisfied while watching me enjoy the climax.
I can give up what he surrendered just to have those moments again. Celeste! I have officially gone crazy. With the money Michele gave back, I can start a new life – just as he suggested. Real adulthood will be hard for me, knowing that I've never acted as one all my life. I will not fear failing or making wrong decisions, with his money as my security. Life won't be able to trip me into the mud with it.
Yeah. I’ll take the money and be happy with it!
But it doesn’t feel right. No. It doesn’t feel the same way when I’m with him.
“Maybe this time, you should focus on getting your feelings across,” Janice mutters.
I blush upon hearing it. My feelings? Shame slaps me before I can deny the truth. I'm not some sixteen-year-old who still has to hide her feelings because of the fear of being turned down or being looked down upon. At twenty-seven, I should already know how to own up to my feelings and be brave to face the things it will bring upon me.
“Becoming mature is facing what we feel, isn’t it?” Janice asks as if she read my mind. “If you’re in love with him, admit it. If he breaks your heart....”
Janice’s face falls silent as she remembers how that guy from France ruined her heart. I hold her hand and say, "Have a party in the Maldives."
We laugh and talk about what we should do on the island. Suddenly, Janice stops and hugs me tight. "The best part of being mature is being happy, Celeste," she surprises me.
When did she become so mature? I wonder. Or perhaps, Janice has always been mature, but she only acts like a brat to keep me company.
Janice happily smiles and directs me to the gates. My body vibrates while my heart almost jumps out of me when Michele appears at the gates. He looks around and finds me among the sea of people crossing between us.
Janice stands and kisses me on the cheeks. “I’ll go and have my sex detox. I won’t mind if you get tons of sex doses instead.”
“Janice,” I softly call.
A message notification sounds from my phone. I look at Janice, and she gives me a sign to read it. My mouth drops while looking at her in awe. She really is the best. Janice sent an ultimatum message to Michele, telling him that if he’s not going to stop me, she’ll drag me to every gigolo club on the island.
Janice's reputation about being carefree in sex is more notorious than mine. Michele must have panicked upon reading her message. After all, we met because she set me up with a gigolo. Fortunately – or unfortunately – the room keys got mixed up, and Michele ended up in my room; I thought of him as the gigolo.
Michele glares at Janice as he approaches us. I gasp when he suddenly grabs my hand and demands, “You’re not going anywhere.”
Michele drags me out of the airport before I can object or even say goodbye to Janice. I look at Janice, and she beams with more excitement than me. I owe you, I mouthe to her while following Michele.
“You’re mine until I say you’re not, understand?” Michele declares when we step out of the airport. My natural bratty reaction from being ordered sparks. But before I can argue, he holds the back of my head and imprisons my mouth with his.
Weak to his kisses, I end up submitting myself to him – answering his kiss with passion and joy of being with him. You’re mine until I say you’re not. My heart almost sinks after realizing the last part. But as Janice made it clear to me, I can change how things can be. I will never let him let go of me.
Michele will want more of me every day until he cannot live without me. I won't mind playing games with him or being confused if this is love or not. Happiness. I'm having that right now and wanting more of it for a long time. Forever if I can.
#
“Daddy,” I smile after Celeste moans it into my ears.
The elevator door opens straight to my penthouse apartment. I flash a cheeky smile and carry Celeste from the floor. She climbs higher and wraps her legs around my hips. My baby girl levels her face to mine and locks lips with me while I carry her into my house.
“Wow,” Celeste blurts while pulling away from me. She looks around my black and white apartment. “For a minimalist, you sure go all out when it comes to sex.”
"I don't like anything messy and only bring home what I need," I explain. And I need Celeste – all of her, especially the heat and the strange joy she fuels my heart with.
Celeste caresses my face with her warm and soft hands. I panic when the big smile across her face turns into a simper. She flashes a bigger smile when she meets my eyes. Celeste caresses my cheeks before kissing them softly. "I never thought I'd see you this close again," she slides her lips between mine while combing my stubble with the tips of her fingers.
“I will go crazy if you let another man touch you,” I warn her.
She giggles and plants soft kisses on my neck. “I’ll always be your baby girl while I still like being it,” Celeste teases, imitating the tone I pulled on her at the airport.
“Then, you’ll be my baby girl until you surrender,” I reply while opening the door to my bedroom.
My action surprised me. I should bring Celeste to the room where I play with the other women. But my feelings carried me away. I want to take her to every place special to me as she is for me.
Celeste becomes curious at my sudden reluctance. My hesitation vanishes when I look at my bed. For the first time, a woman will roll and wriggle on its imported sheets. She will be filling my room with screams. I kiss Celeste, catching her off guard with passion. She let me fuck her in her bed. I might as well fuck her in mine.
Celeste climbs down from me and looks around the room. “Do you even sleep here?” she asks after noticing the neatness of the room.
“I am tonight,” I reply while hugging her from behind.
She throws her head to one side and offers her shoulders to me. I hold her neck with one hand and caress her waist with the other. Celeste moans while smiling as I slowly raise the hem of her shirt. She arches her body to offer me her chest. As I catch her boobs with my hands, Celeste reaches the back of my hair and pulls them slightly. She twirls the ends while slowly wriggling against my body. I cover her exposed neck and shoulders with kisses.
“Should we still play the game?” Celeste asks while raising her hands, allowing me to remove her shirt. My reply disappears from my thoughts when I see the scars on Celeste's back. Her shoulders drop after noticing my silence, showing her embarrassment. "Ugly and disgusting, huh?" Her voice shakes with worry.
"You're still as perfect as before," I whisper before kissing the scars. A pang of guilt strikes me and reminds me of the terror of that night. I turn Celeste around to face me and kiss her like I'm afraid to lose her. Like I might never kiss her again. But I'm not going to let that happen. I will be kissing her to make her stay. She can never leave me.
Tears roll down Celeste's cheeks as I caress her face with my lips and breaths. I pause and rest my head on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry for putting you in danger,” I whisper while keeping my head down on her shoulder.
Celeste holds my face tightly and plants quick kisses on my lips to calm me. "It wasn't your fault. We were in the wrong place and at the wrong time that night. Who knew it would happen?"
I did and should have, but my overconfidence got the best of me. Growing up, I was reared and trained to be the next boss of the Mafia. Treated like the little boss, I developed a superiority and invincibility complex. I always believed that I had control over things, and they always worked out to my benefit. No one can cross me. Not even my stupid cousins who still think of me as a threat.
Celeste has made me vulnerable to love and my enemies. I need to make sacrifices to continue being in control. Weaknesses need to disappear before somebody uses them as a threat to me. But I can't fool myself. I can't sacrifice Celeste.
Everything has changed now. I will enjoy a new world with my baby girl while ensuring her safety in my arms.
“I will never let it happen again,” I declare while looking into her eyes.
“I know,” she replies before kissing me.
I suck her lips to strengthen our kisses. Celeste opens her mouth wider and allows my tongue to reach deeper into her throat. She embraces me tighter while challenging my tongue with hers.
"Daddy," she murmurs while gasping for air.
Daddy. Celeste shrieks the word when I carry her off the floor and put her on the bed. The naughty woman flashes a flirty smile while unhooking her bra. She slowly rolls the bra off her while keeping her eyes on me. Celeste's seductive smile makes every part of me desperate for every inch of her.
I pull her closer to me and conquer her healthy tits with my large hands. Celeste puts her hand over mine and guides me in kneading her breasts. I lean down and kiss her while playing with her tits.
She slowly lowers her back to lie on the bed. I move my kisses to her chest, licking the space between her tits and swirling my tongue around her nipples. Celeste's body rises as I suck and tug each nipple while massaging each side of her hips.
#
Nothing has changed. Michele still ignites the lust in me as no other man has. I lie on the bed and present myself to him. My body vibrates from the excitement of being one with him again after being asleep for almost a month. I miss him. His breath on my skin, his lips on mine, and the heat of his palms wandering all over me. And I'm about to reach orgasm by just having them tonight.
Michele brushes his palm across my torso until he reaches the button of my jeans. He straddles my crotch; his crotch slightly touches mine. I take a deep breath as Michele unbuttons and unzips my jeans, exposing my black bikini-style panties. He slides some of his fingers around the edges of the crotch pad. I giggle when he suddenly pulls it away from my slit, twisting the fabric on his fingers.
"Black panties aren't nice for little girls," he says with a smile.
My giggle turns into a moan when he suddenly runs a finger on my slit while lifting the crotch cover. I hold on to Michele’s wrist as he brushes his palm against the cover; his other fingers trace the opening of my pussy. My toes curl as electric shocks spread into my pussy walls and travel down to the soles of my feet.
Heat covers me as I watch Michele's hips sway as he plays above my crotch. I become greedy for his cock to brush against my skin and break my pussy. "Daddy," I call while touching his crotch. My desperation to hold his cock rises after it pulses in my palm.
Michele smirks before climbing down from me. I almost curse at him but stop when he pulls down my pants. He looks at me with playful eyes before tracing the bands of my bikini with his tongue. The hotness of his mouth makes me shiver and moan. My wetness spills over while my desire overflows.
"Yes..." I hiss as the undies slide down my hips. A long moan follows when Michele catches my slit with his mouth while rolling the panties down my legs. I grab the top of his head but only to keep his face on my pussy.
My hips gyrate when Michele holds my bum higher and sucks my clit. I grab my tits and play with them as his tongue swirls along my pussy. “Daddy,” I call while squirming on the bed as his tongue wiggles into my opening.
I bite my lips as the tension gathers above my crotch. My toes almost break as I curl them hard to avoid cumming. I hold on to the top of his hair, slightly twist it, and groan from the pain of controlling my orgasm.
My body shakes when Michele brushes his buds against my slit in a long stroke. I close my eyes to savor the moment but inhale deep to hold on to my orgasm. A loving kiss on my lips forces me to open my eyes.
“We’re not playing a game, baby girl,” Michele kisses me again, making me taste some parts of me. “Daddy wants you to have everything you want tonight.”
I caress his cheeks and tickle his earlobes. Michele likes it when I play with his lobes. It always puts a gentle smile on his face. Like he's not dominant or arrogant, he's just a man enjoying me in his arms.
“Then, I want your cock, Daddy.” I follow it with a flirty smile.
Michele's eyes light up. He crawls from the bed, takes off everything he has on, and positions himself between my legs. My mouth parts in anticipation while he rolls his gifted shaft into my wetness. I release a shaky breath as his tip breaks into my walls. My pussy must have missed the hotness of his cock that the walls milk it hard before it can penetrate fully.
“Relax, baby girl. Breathe,” Michele reminds me.
I deeply inhale and look at him. Michele smiles and pushes his shaft to the hilt. My face twitches as his girth almost breaks my whole pussy, but my moans echo around the room as his size tickles every nice spot inside me.
Michele places a palm above my crotch and moves his hips slower than he used to. My muscles tremble from the beautiful pain pricking me and the pleasurable heat spreading onto my skin as his rough shaft brushes against my walls.
“Daddy,” I murmur. I want to beg him to move faster, but I also want to savor every long stroke.
Michele growls and clenches his jaw. He hates the speed he's going. I move my hips higher, trying to lead him into thrusting faster. Michele ignores my hint and continues to take me at a controlled speed.
“Is something wrong?” I can’t handle my frustration anymore.
“You have just recovered.”
His words inject happiness into my heart. I even forgot that I had just gotten out of the hospital, but he didn't. Michele made it appear that he didn’t care when I was in the hospital, but in truth, he never stopped caring. This man. I don't know if it's a strategy, but Michele always introduces new bits of himself that keep me intrigued and wanting to stay for more.
"I'm fine. I handled three bullets, so I'm pretty sure I can handle your bullet," I joke.
"I..." Michele pauses, but his eyes give me the adoration only a man in love could give.
My heart gallops like a mad horse. He doesn’t have to say the words. I may not be sure of it, but something between us has evolved. It’s not romance but also not a “no strings attached” thing. Maybe we are in love and afraid to admit it. Or we are in a state of confusion, but we enjoy it and don't want to clear things up.
I cling tightly to Michele’s chest, pull him closer, and lock his lips with mine before wrestling him down to the bed. He laughs as I sit on top of him. I flip my hair and tell him, “I’ll take control, Daddy.”
Michele licks his lips while watching me level my crotch to his cock. I shakily breathe while I roll his shaft to my wetness. Moans break from my mouth as I thrust his cock into my pussy. I shiver on top of him as my walls vibrate from the sensation. I bite my lips as I slide lower, letting his long shaft settle almost to the hilt.
"Who taught you about taking control, baby girl?" Michele chuckles as I move my hips against him. He slightly counters my moves – still afraid that he will hurt me. I increase the pace by sliding up and down and steering his cock into my pussy faster and harder. Michele turns down the intensity by missing the rhythm.
I slam my palm against his chest and glare at him. “I said I can handle it,” I frown and take his hand over his head. But because I’m too short for him, I have to bend down; my breast levels his face.
“Daddy,” I giggle when he catches a nipple and sucks it. He doesn’t let go while I glide against his cock.
Having my healthy tits on his face must have fueled his desire – prompting him to forget about my condition. He resists my hold and grabs my tits. Michele holds my nape to keep my face leveled to his while I move forward and back; his other hand massages my tits.
"Yes," I utter when Michele starts moving against me just as he would before. He steers his cock into my favorite spots and tickles it until I end up crying for him to stop but begging for him to remain in that intensity. "Daddy," I repeat as he takes control and pushes me to the brink of climax.
Michele pushes me to be in a straddle position. He holds my hips and guides me while we move against each other. With his guidance, we end up rocking on the bed – hard.
"Stop," I whimper when he pushes his thumb on top of my slit. While I move forward, his thumb slides deeper and rubs my clit. I shake and almost squirt from the ticklish vibration of my pressuring thumb.
"Stop," I say, but I don't want him to. Michele intensifies his rubs on my clit while I move up and down. My lower torso contracts as I try to stop myself from exploding in orgasm.
"We're not in a game, baby," Michele reminds me again.
I grit my teeth. Asshole. I became obsessed with winning his Cumming Game. I try so hard to contain my orgasm. He reminds me repeatedly, but I still squeeze my thighs tight to avoid exploding before him.
Michele groans as I find it hard to let go. He tightly holds my ass and wrestles me back to the bed. Before I can react to his action, he pushes his cock in one powerful stroke, causing me to arch my body and moan from the beauty of the friction of his cock against my wall.
He raises my legs and places them higher than his waist. My body curls like I'm about to be folded in half. The position allows him better access to my pussy. His every plunge goes deeper and reaches the lid of my orgasm. I hiss, cry, purr, moan, and create sounds imaginable during sex as he rams his cock against me. My nails bury deep into his shoulder. I still can't stop trying to hold back my orgasm.
Until Michele defeats me.
“Daddy,” I call between hisses.
“Just cum, baby.”
Michele succeeds in tipping my contained orgasm with his strong thrusts, causing it to explode and overflow to every nerve of my body. I tense as my walls clasp his shaft and milk it hard. The surge of pleasure rushes through me and prepares me to be swayed into a dreamy state again.
“Daddy,” I moan with a big smile across my face.
Michele holds my face, slightly squeezing it to keep me awake. As if resuscitating me, he cages my lips in a torrid kiss. “Stay with me.”
I look into his eyes and smile. Why go to dreamland when I'm with him? Michele's deep brown eyes stare down at me like he doesn't want to lose me. He moves his hips to start his journey to climax.
Michele softly chuckles into my face. Ah, the warmth of his breath makes me shiver. I love him. My heart stops for a second and gallops like racing horses. I love him?
Michele moves harder against me, rubbing his torso against my breasts. He growls as his cock pulses inside me, hinting that he's near orgasm. I slowly slide my hands near his neck and massage his shoulder. He breathes heavily against my face, causing my heart to rumble. Michele keeps his eyes on me as he thrusts harder.
Why should I be in love with this man? We ended the Cumming Game and have no reason to be together. Am I only looking for a reason to be with him?
“Celeste,” Michele whispers into my ears as his cock engorges inside me. My walls contract against his shaft, forcing it to explode. “I....”
I love you. The thought overjoys me. I look straight into Michele, who tenses above me while he fills me with his warm cum. The edges of his lips curl into a small smile.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he mutters under a growl before dropping on my chest, panting.
My heart pounds hard as if it wants to jump out of me. I thread my fingers to the back of Michele's hair and calm him by lightly scratching his scalp. "Daddy," I whisper.
I don’t want to lose you. The phrase is a letdown, but I don't feel like it. Michele's words offer me security. That he'll always be with me. I don't need a reason to be with him. He is the reason I need to be with him. Because....
I LOVE HIM.
For a woman who is afraid of being heartbroken, I suddenly feel brave enough to take a risk. Michele may not see things the same way, but I don't care anymore. Call me a spoiled brat, but I'm not giving up what I want. No. Who I love.
#
I roll to Celeste's side and pull her close to me. Cuddling after sex isn't my thing, but it feels wrong not having her in my arms after enjoying the night with her. I brush her messy, pixie-cut blonde hair and let my lips rest on her forehead.
Celeste wraps one of my legs with hers and places her palm on my chest; her index finger draws a circle against my hairy chest. It's the first time she didn't pass out on me after reaching an orgasm. The smell of her sweat and her raspberry-scented shampoo tickles my nose with sweetness and innocence.
I don’t want to lose you. It's not what I wanted to say. I still can't speak the words buried deep in my head. Saying them will be the end of us. Celeste will become my weakness; I become her harm. We can no longer be together.
“I want to learn how to be like you,” Celeste suddenly says. I give her a puzzled look. She softly smiles and explains, “I want to learn how to control things without having to be a brat.”
I laugh a little, and she playfully slaps my chest. She rolls on top of me and wriggles her lower torso between my legs. Celeste looks like a beautiful puppy lying on my chest with her face looking at me. I brush her fringe to one side and put some of her hair to the back of her ears.
“But I thought you hated it,” I answer.
"I don't like it. But I like how you pointed out that I need to learn to take control to avoid abuse," Celeste frowns. "I don't want to be Martina, who treats others like slaves. But I don't like being one, either."
“Baby, it’s not about being a master and a slave.”
I don't expect Celeste to understand my fetish after seeing a glimpse of that side of me for a few minutes. Last month, I took her to Deviant, a BDSM school managed by my former teacher in BDSM. The idea of punishment upset her. Many first-timers would be. They only see the punishment as pain and don't see the pleasure it gives to both parties.
Punishment can be a way of foreplay when it’s done right and with willing parties. It’s not the end of the sexual event. It’s merely a switching of roles – from being the giver to the taker.
“It’s about having a better right to give and take control,” I add.
“You can give and take control without punishing somebody,” Celeste points out. “I may not be it – yet, but during college, I learned that punishment doesn’t do anything to a child.”
“Because parents and teachers do it a different way,” Celeste’s forehead creases after hearing my reply.
Parents and teachers punish kids because they want to prove that the latter is wrong and they're right. The kids can choose to accept that they made a mistake or be stubborn to prove they are right. But it doesn't guarantee that any parties get the benefit they hoped for from the punishment. The parents want their kids to surrender to their mandate.
The punishment in BDSM is different. A dom punishes a submissive not because she's wrong or has defied the former. It is to make her submit control over to him. This is the key to giving him the right to switch roles. When the dom allows the submissive to have control, the latter will submit even more. She'll see it as a reward. Taking that control again will make the submissive submit herself and get that reward.
"You punish a sub to make her want more of it," I smile at Celeste when my explanation still confuses her. "The parents and kids punishment is more like of a master and slave, where the latter doesn't have the right to decline."
“How do you make a person want more punishment? It’s absurd,” Celeste objects.
I blow a sigh while murmuring, “If only I can show you.”
“Then, show me,” Celeste surprises me.
#
What the hell am I thinking? Show me how to be punished? Michele makes me crazy. But then again, I've always been curious about how he would punish me. Before the accident, he brought me to Deviant to see how BDSM works. I saw how a master punishes a slave and how the latter liked it.
“But I don’t want to see you doing it to others. I want you to do it to me.” My words shock me.
Why am I spouting stupid words? Is this the reason I need to pass out after reaching a climax? Because I become stupid when I stay awake?
Michele keeps his face straight but I see his eyes twinkle with thrill. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to hurt me?”
"Punishment is not hurting you. It's only making you want what you hate." Once again, Michele confuses me. He smiles and suddenly pulls me into a straddling position on top of him. "What is it that you hate?"
No answer crosses my mind. Hate. It’s a deep word that I never dwell on.
“When it comes to sex, I mean,” Michele adds. He lifts me by the hips and levels my butt slit to his half-hard cock.
Ass-fucking? I don't hate it. I don't prefer it that much because of my ex-husband, Chris Thatcher. That gay asshole treated me like his lover and always took my nether hole instead of the front. I frown at the thought of Chris upon remembering how he pulled me down after treating me like shit. But my anger calms at the sight of Michele's boyish smile.
My father always told me to look at the better side of things and try to be on that side. Michele is there to flip the coin after all the stupid and precarious things that happened to me. As much as I want to strangle my ex-husband for making me lose everything, I also have to thank him for leading me to Michele.
“You don’t hate it, but you don’t like it either,” Michele tells me – as if he read my mind. He puts his palms on my butt cheeks and stretches the slit, allowing his shaft to get between the cheeks. His cock pulses, flicking some vibration to my crotch. Michele smiles after seeing how my body reacts. “It will be your punishment. Are you ready for it?”
I am reluctant to the idea of being punished again. My body seems to agree with it, but my hopeless romantic side hinders it. Love and sex go hand in hand. And in love, there's no punishment.
But I love Michele's idea about switching roles. I've never been the giver. Everything I had to do was forced upon me. My mother and Chris. They all took away my right to control myself. They only gave me a tiny amount of liberty but curtailed my freedom. The people around me always dominated me though they referred to me as a "spoiled brat."
Maybe Michele is right. I need to learn how to be dominant and control my life. It's my time to be the giver and the taker of control. Still, the idea of being whipped like that woman in the Deviant turns off the desire in me.
Will I learn to like being punished?
Michele brushes my cheeks gently while telling me, "I'll make you love it."
And there goes the little girl in me again. One who sees Michele as someone who’ll always keep me safe and never harm me. The reluctance I have vanished; the excitement returns. I hate to see other people being punished, but I want Michele to make me love it.
#
The sound of my gulping echoes inside a room with nothing in the center. My heartbeat slows down as I look at the things hanging on the wall. There are whips of sizes that I never imagined.
“Is this your dungeon? How come it’s so bare?” I ask Michele.
He smiles and walks to one of the walls. I laugh in awe when he pushes a button, and all his equipment unfolds before my eyes. Michele pulls out a folded surface. A horse? It looks different from what I saw during my research as it looks thinner in width but with wider stands, enough to spread my legs to their limit.
I look at Michele, and he seems worried about my reaction. I’m not panicking but a little scared. The horse will expose my entire crotch to him while my chest lays flat on the small surface. My breasts will probably hang on each side. The posts are ready with cuffs to restrain the submissive. Some tiny shocks travel my nerves and settle around my nipples as I imagine Michele doing everything he wants to me while I’m defenseless.
Michele gasps when I take a step back. Seeing the frustration in his eyes, I change my mind and stop. I try to play in my head the images of Michele molesting me as my dom. My pussy walls throb. I squeeze my thighs together to intensify the throbbing and fuel my excitement.
“It’s okay, Celeste. We can take this slow,” Michele caresses my face and softly kisses my lips.
“Show me,” I tell him. “But promise me that when I say stop, you’ll stop.”
“The safe word,” Michele corrects me. He smiles and asks, “What do you want your safe word to be?”
“Red?”
“Come on, Celeste. You can do better than that,” Michele laughs. “It should be something you’ll never think of saying while having sex.”
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?” Michele becomes speechless with my reply. I giggle and say, “How about peanuts? I’m allergic to peanuts.”
Michele smirks; his eyes twinkle with playfulness. He walks closer to me and unties the belt of my robe. I raise an eyebrow at him while keeping myself from giggling. I take a deep breath when he slides the robe off my shoulders and exposes my nakedness to him.
“Peanuts?” A short giggle escapes from me when he draws circles around my nipples. The giggle becomes a laugh when he suddenly licks one of them. “I like your peanuts,” his other hand moves lower to my crotch. His fingers locate my clit. I moan when he rubs his fingers around it. “Especially this one.”
My weakness to his touch shows through a moan. I thread my fingers onto the back of his hair and pull his face closer to me. Michele chuckles into my mouth as I kiss him with deep passion. His chuckles get gagged when I stick my tongue inside his mouth and tease his tongue to chase mine.
Michele releases my clit and holds my neck with both hands. His tongue follows my tongue into my mouth. I block his tongue from going deeper into my throat, and he’s showing his power by shoving my tongue aside. I raise one leg and tangle it around his hips. Michele holds it up, squeezing my outer thighs. But he pulls away when I anticipate him to carry me.
“I thought we’re here to learn the punishments,” Michele reminds me.
I giggle and pulse away from him. “I’m sorry. You got me excited.”
Michele slides his lips into mine but pulls away before the kiss becomes torrid. “Now, get on the horse.”
“H-how?”
I shriek when Michele bends me on the bench. He reaches for my tits and places them in a comfortable position. What the... Michele presses me down before I can attempt to rise. The fucking bench has a built in vibrator. It shakes my boobs, which shocks me a little. And as if showing off his experience, Michele has my hands tied on the posts before I can object.
“Shh...” my objections become a hiss when the vibration increases. It becomes relaxing. It’s like being massaged but with hot and cold air rushing down my pussy.
Michele traces my spine with his palm. Wham! I want to raise my body and face him when he spanks my butt, but I can’t move my body. He tied me well. I jolt when another spank lands on the same spot. My skin stings and itches. The handcuffs restrict me from reaching the spot and soothing it, which adds more frustration to me.
“Angry, baby girl?” Michele teases. I reply to him with a sharp stare and a frown. He smirks at me and quickly spanks the same spot. I try to kick him, but my legs can’t reach him.
“Damn you!” I cry when he spanks my other butt cheek.
Before I can curse again, he hits it again. I can’t say a complete word because every time I open my mouth, Michele inflicts pain on the same spots. My anger calms when he massages my butt. The sting disperses and spreads around the area, introducing a strange sensation that I want to soothe with my own hands. Michele bends down and licks the redness of my butt cheeks. My hips rotate while a moan sounds from me. I move my hips higher, instinctively offering him the other spot.
Celeste! Now I don’t know if it’s still a punishment. My body arches back when Michele sucks the spot. “Oh, fuck!” I express my joy. The bench vibrates against the top of my crotch, pulling away some stings from my butt cheeks.
“Want some more?” Michele asks.
“Yesss,” I hiss. Instead of sucking the spot, Michele spanks it again. It must be because of the wetness from his tongue that the sting is more intense. My sphincter muscles throb as the pain spreads around the area. “Asshole!”
“It’s ‘Sir’ to you,” Michele corrects me with another spank on the other butt cheek.
I glare at him and say, “Asshole, Sir!”
Michele pulls the back of my hair and forces me to look at him. He chuckles before sliding his mouth into mine. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and reaches deep into my throat. I try to push his tongue out, but my body does the opposite. I keep sucking on it.
“You need a taste of a more severe punishment,” Michele tells me after our intense kiss.
Stop him. But I become more intrigued about the “more severe punishment.” Spanking doesn’t feel like a punishment at all but foreplay. A flogger? I think I can handle that well, too.
I look at Michele and flash a smile. Getting my approval, Michele opens another secret closet on the wall. My forehead creases upon seeing his collection of toys. The top shelf has the dildos and vibrators. The lower shelf has other things I don’t recognize or know.
Michele browses the lower shelf. He takes out some sort of furry tail and looks at me. “Do you want to be a bunny or a squirrel?” He looks at my butt and chuckles. “Let’s be a bunny today.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. My head is about to do a 360-degree turn as Michele walks behind me. He places his palm on the small of my back before massaging my butt.
“What are you doing?” I try to sound calm while he stretches my butt slit. “I told you. No ass! Peanuts!
Michele stops playing with my behind and faces me. “Are you sure it’s peanuts?”
I fell silent. Michele reminds me of the purpose of punishments. It is to make me like what I hate. I look at him. This asshole. He has a way of making me curious about things and urging me to like them. I clench my jaw to stubbornly object, but my curiosity beats it.
“It’s not,” I end up saying.
Michele slaps me with the fur of the ass plug he took. “Sir,” he reminds me again. I take a deep breath and repeat the words while frowning.
I bite my lips when he runs his palm in circles on my butt cheeks. I suck my cheeks when he stretches my slit, letting the warm and cold wind brush through my pussy and my other hole. Michele brushes the furry toy on my slit, making me shiver and almost giggle. A snort leaves through my nose when he slaps the furry tail on my skin. It stings a little but tickles more.
“Now, the real punishment,” I look at Michele after he says the words.
He shows a cheeky smirk and slowly traces my nether hole with the slightly pointy end of the plug tail. I gasp when Michele suddenly spanks me with more intensity than his previous ones. My inhale gets cut off when my butt muscles squeeze the tip of the plug. The asshole puts part of it in when I gasp.
“Breathe, baby girl,” Michele says. He makes me gasp when I refuse. My a-hole contracts again, sucking more of the plug inside. As I exhale, the thing pushes deeper.
It’s been a while since I had a thing in my ass. Chris used to take me through the back. It wasn’t all that bad. My body somehow reacted to it positively. It’s not the act that I hate. It’s my ex-husband. And it’s not because he was gay and fooled me by having his lover as his assistant. It’s how he treated me without any respect and treated my ass as a receptacle of his cum while thinking of his lover.
My fingers curl as my anger towards my ex-husband surfaces. “Shit!” I exclaim when Michele suddenly twists the plug, tickling every nerve it touches.
Michele. Just the thought of him waters down my anger to Chris. The only positive thing my ex-husband did was to make it possible for me to meet Michele. My lips curve into a smile. Michele has become more than just my best fuck. He is now a source of excitement and joy to me. Love? I’m already in love with him regardless of the absurd reason.
He has already become my safe haven and my teacher. Michele. For the first time in my life, I have control of it by letting Michele control me. My pussy walls pulse and make my sphincter muscles contract, squeezing the large anal plug. I sound a moan as it stirs a thrilling sensation around my behind. I take a deep breath and squeeze it more, groaning at the pressure of the plug against my rectum wall, but moaning loudly as I relax my walls.
#
Celeste gently rocks her lips while holding the ass plug with her muscles. Her eyes are still sharp, showing her disgust about having something up in her ass. Her low moans hint that she's beginning to like having some faux cock in her nether hole.
I walk to the front of the bench to look at her face. Celeste's cheeks and lips are darker but glowing. Her jaw still clenches. She still fights her urge to enjoy the moment because of her ex-husband.
Another moan escapes her lips, but she stops halfway to hide it. Celeste inhales deep when I run my palm on her spine while sniffing her hair. Ah...Celeste always smells the same, but I love how her aroma intensifies when she’s aroused. She tilts her head a little and catches my lips with hers, catching me off guard.
If she were Anika, I would have flogged her hard for taking the initiative, but she's Celeste. I end up kissing her passionately and enjoy her tongue swirling against mine. She moans into my mouth as I let one of my hands wander lower to her butt. I chase her lips to keep them locked on mine when she tries to pull away.
A soft groan sounds from her throat when I reach for the tail and tug it. Celeste instinctively squeezes her muscles to stop the plug from being pulled out. I play with it until she releases a complete moan.
“You’re liking it?” I ask. Celeste turns red. I tug the tail again, and she ends up moaning more. “You’re liking it.”
“Asshole!” Celeste yells when I spank her back thighs thrice in a row.
“This is a punishment, baby girl. You shouldn’t like it."
"But you said it's about making me like what I hate?" she retorts.
I chuckle at her innocence about BDSM.
I massage the backs of her thighs and explain, "Yes, Celeste. But you're not my lover but my sub in this dungeon. You are not allowed to enjoy anything unless I let you."
Celeste’s eyebrows curve. I can see the objection through her eyes. As her dom, I have control over Celeste's pleasures. She still has to understand it. But I'm glad she's enjoying this kind of lifestyle. I'm excited to know how she will evolve when I teach her how to be a dom and take control.
I slap her butt again, eliciting another curse from her. I hit the same spot twice; she groans to the sting and shoots me another sharp glare.
"Watch your mouth, baby girl, or you'll be punished all night," I tell her.
Celeste frowns at me. Ah, her stubbornness. It's lovely but alarming. She doesn't need any punishment but has to be tamed first. I grab a thin flogger with a softer tip and whip her butt. She groans and wriggles her hips. The plugged tail in her ass moves up and down. I hit the same spot again. Celeste still groans, but the last syllables sounded like a moan.
I tug the tail lightly and swing it up and down. Celeste softly purrs and moves her hips, signaling that she wants more. Her whimper turns into another curse when I flog her hard – just when she's enjoying the wriggling ass plug.
“Now, do you get how punishments work?” I ask Celeste.
She turns her hands into fists and answers, “Yes... sir.”
I show a proud smile before holding the ass plug tighter. Celeste bites her lips to contain her cries when I move the plug in a thrusting direction. Her legs shake, and her body arches as I increase the speed of the thrusts.
Celeste throws her head to the back while silently moaning when I slap her butt cheeks with my palms. The pain must add to the beautiful feeling the plug brings to her crotch. Celeste shudders harder when I increase the pace of the thrust. She must have understood how things should work between a dom and a sub. Celeste presses her lips together and keeps her moans to herself, but her body shows every delight she feels.
My body warms up to more than I can handle. Celeste looks stunning and erotic while bent naked. Her silent moans intrigue my cock. The rotation of her hips makes me drool. I want to take her myself.
I cup her butt cheeks and massage them. A shaky breath escapes her lungs when I stretch the cheeks and expose how her hole pumps the plug. A fit of childish jealousy strikes me. Why should a toy enjoy what I should be enjoying?
“What the...”
#
My ass walls complain more than I could when Michele suddenly pulls out the plug just when my body begins to enjoy having it. I want to yell at him, but I now understand the role I'm playing. I'm a sub, and as such, I can't complain. But I can't stop thinking that this is unfair.
Why is he the only one who can punish and teach me? Michele brought me to Deviant before to understand how important control is and how to keep it on my side. Why am I giving him all the control now?
I shoot Michele with another glare. But my eyes suddenly widen when he releases his cock from his jeans. My resentment becomes excitement when he brushes his shaft in my wet butt crack. I gasp when his tip tickles the orifice. My walls throb – as if celebrating the anticipation of being anal-fucked.
Michele licks the top end of my crack up to my spine. A giggle comes out of my mouth. I shrug when he tickles me by kissing the sides of my tits while scratching my nether hole with his tip.
“Breathe in,” Michele whispers.
I do as told, but I quickly exhale hard when he pushes his cock into the hole. My muscles stretch as his girth squeezes my other walls. I feel the barrier between my ass and pussy push against my crotch, greeting my walls and making them gripe over not having Michele's cock in them.
Why does it feel great? Sure. When Chris did it to me, my body adjusted, accepted, and learned to settle with the pleasure he gave. With Michele, I crave it. I don't need a punishment to like what I hate. Ass-fucking isn't the issue but the partner I was with.
Michele pushes his cock deeper into my back, stretching more of my walls. My body shakes from the stinging pain and the ticklish pleasure that goes with it. "Daddy," I mutter softly. I shriek the word when he suddenly spanks me. The sting itches deep into my skin and tickles my contracting muscles.
I grit my teeth when Michele grabs a bunch of my hair and pulls my head up. My body arches, causing my crotch to press against the vibrating bench. The itching pain in my scalp and the vibration on my crotch – they feel therapeutic. I moan like I'm having the best massage – better than any of the spas I went to.
Michele spanks me again. I bite my lips but leave the ends curved in a smile. I love how he controls me. No. Everything he does to me. I'm intrigued. How will Michele react once I get to have control of him? I pause and frown a little. Will he even allow me to dominate him? I can't help but laugh inside.
Controlling Michele doesn’t excite me. But thinking about his reactions when I’m the one punishing him, seeing this arrogant, overconfident, and masculine man hiding his grunts and moans must be funny. I lick my lips while I imagine spanking his butt and teasing his cock.
“Fuck!” The word leaves my mouth when Michele hits me.
"Who are you thinking about?" His voice is raspy. His glare shoots fire full of jealousy. He grabs the back of my hair and forces my body to arches towards him. Michele leans closer to my ear and warns me, "Don't ever think of your husband while I'm fucking you from behind. Understand?"
His tone offends me; his action irks me. I hate that he doesn't trust me. For the past two months, I've only been making love to him, and he still suspects me of thinking of another man. I'm also shocked that this arrogant man shows insecurities because of me. Why is he jealous of Chris? He's gay, and I'm not into bisexuals. That man is the last person I would want to hold me. Why will I think of him?
I want to argue with him, but part of me doesn't want to disturb the temporary roles we created. I swallow my pride and reply, "Yes, Sir. I'm not thinking of him but you."
Michele's eyes twinkle. He loses his stern face when a smile slides out of his lips. He bends my neck again to make my lips closer to his. We look at each other's eyes; I open my mouth and wait for his kiss. But he tricks me and keeps his mouth out of my reach.
I frown at him; he replies with a cheeky smile. Michele pushes his cock hard into my ass. I cry while he steadily holds my head on his face. Another strong thrust. Damn it. His cock is bigger than Chris's, and it's about to rip in half.
Michele leans closer to me. He holds one side of my hips and thrusts like my nether hole is my pussy. Every thrust he makes hurts but feels good. I hold my breath and bite my lips to avoid moaning. I don't know what sorcery submission has. I'm beginning to like the thrill of being close to the red line between punishment and climax. I hate dealing with challenges, but this is an exhilarating one.
I tilt my head to face Michele. When our mouths touch each other's faces, I chase his lips and cage them with a kiss. He pulls my head away. I look into his eyes; he's contemplating whether to punish me or let me have some control. I blow heavy breaths upon his face while moving my hips to counter his thrusts. His breath also lands on mine while he grunts with every push.
“I want to cum,” I tell him.
Michele snorts and stops thrusting. My muscles wrap his cock and try to squeeze it for more action. I move my hips to aid them, but unlike my pussy, the sensation is quick to die. I don't want to end this moment in mediocre sex.
“Daddy, I want to cum,” I repeat. Hoping that my charming act can convince him.
Michele pulls my hair and lifts my head. “Didn’t I tell you where you are?”
I gnaw my teeth for a moment. I love being a sub, but the spoiled brat in me refuses to submit. "I'm sorry, Sir," and yet I swallow my pride. I'm becoming addicted to reaching orgasm with him.
Michele wraps my neck with one hand and places his other hand on one of my tits. He moves his hips against me and slides his cock in and out of my hole. My wrists and ankles are about to break from twisting from the tugging game of pain and pleasure.
My wetness overflows from my pussy and it meets the juice of my union with Michele from the other side. I'm about to burst from the heat. The frustration of not getting to moan adds to the fire inside me.
“Please, Sir,” I finally surrendered. “I want to cum.”
Michele chuckles like a winner. He plants a kiss at the back of my neck and whispers, “I’ll give it as a reward.”
He pulls away from my back and stands behind me. My body shudders as his cock buries deeper in my behind while taking the standing position. I take a deep breath when he licks my spine with his wet tongue again. Michele increases the pace of his thrusts but carefully controls his intensity to avoid hurting me.
Hot and cold sensations travel all over my nerves. His thrusts push me closer to climax. Yes, I want to yell, but I don't want him to punish me by abruptly stopping everything. Soft whimpers escape from my throat.
I can't take it anymore! I want to cum.
So, I counter his hips by moving mine against his. The slapping sound defeats the buzzing music of the built-in vibrator of the bench. Michele holds my shoulders while pushing his cock deeper into my ass and letting it rest inside. My walls tick-tock like an explosive bomb squeezing his cock. He stops moving and allows me to do the job of finishing the course. I push forward and back against his shaft, savoring the friction of my elastic orifice to his hard cock.
Asshole. Perhaps Michele takes pity on me upon seeing my desperation. He releases my wrists and ankles, giving me more freedom to support myself. But I don't have to work harder. He was hungry for his climax.
Michele pulls an extender from under the bench and raises my legs, placing each of them on the extended surface. I looked like a Shih Tzu puppy lying on an elevated floor. I smile as I breathe when Michele tightly holds my hips.
“Yes, Sir,” I call out when he starts moving fast and hard.
He's rocking not only my ass but everything inside me. My pussy walls cry with jealousy for not feeling that heat of friction from his rough and hard shaft rubbing against it. Yet it doesn't stop my pussy from contracting and squeezing their imaginable cock.
I untangle the soft bands from my wrists and slide one hand between my legs. I need to reward my pussy, too. But before I can reach my slit, Michele takes my hand and puts it back on the bench. I am about to beg him, but he reads my mind.
Michele slides one of his hands to the front and locates my clit. With his thumb and index finger, he tugs my sensitive peanut before rubbing it hard. My thighs throb hard. I lost control of my moans. Michele ignores my disobedience and lets himself be lost in his journey to climax.
Suddenly, sparks trigger somewhere inside me. I can't tell if it's in the back or the front, but it's slowly filling my veins and nerves with intriguing heat that I want to disperse but also want to keep. I can't stop smiling as Michele groans behind me. His last thrusts hurt more than the first, but my body sees through it as pleasure instead of pain. Punishment. I let him punish me as much as he wants.
I shudder as the sparks take over all of me. My fingers and toes curl as my instinct tries to stop my orgasm from exploding, but my hips counter Michele harder, showing my desperation to climax.
“Just cum, baby,” Michele whispers.
Relief rushes through me, and I let go of everything. My body arches hard against the bench. My every muscle shudders from the pleasure that comes from different directions. I squeeze my butt muscles to keep Michele's cock in me. I press my crotch to the vibrating bench, hoping it can elevate and extend the wonderful orgasmic experience.
Michele grunts hard on my back, I tremble as his hot breath rages on my spine like a dragon breathing fire. My dying orgasm gets revived for a moment enough to join Michele in his pinnacle. We tense against each other. It’s like having a threesome with the bench.
His cock pulses on my behind while the vibrating bench pulses in my front. And all I get is an utter pleasure. I'd be a fool to let go of this man. Michele does not only excite my heart but every nerve I have. And I'm not even sure if he loves me. Ah. The pleasure may be quantified when he finally falls in love with me.
Michele puts me back on his bed after bathing and drying me like a baby. Doms do that to their sub, he says. It's a form of reward and an act to restore the honor they temporarily tainted for the dom. Michele stops and looks at me. His eyes remain on my lips for a while before his gaze moves on my thighs.
I sigh softly and hold his hand. Michele looks at me with worry.
He hasn't stopped examining the whelps and bruises on my butt and thighs. Michele keeps asking if he hurt me so much that he almost harmed me. Despite my admission that none of the things he did endangered or hurt me, and despite that they all satisfied me, he still worries about the marks on my skin.
A smile breaks into my lips as my heart flutters from the affection he shows. Whether it's love, concern, or part of BDSM, it wraps my heart with happiness. Once again, Michele is the only person who emulates the joy my father made me feel when he was still alive.
“Maybe we should stop,” Michel mutters.
“Stop?” My mouth drops in exasperation. I raise my eyebrows at him and say, “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we went to Deviant, you told me that I should become a dom and learn to take control of my life and the lives of those serving me,” I remind him. “Then why is it only you that gets to punish me? I should also punish you.”
"Punish me?" Michel's eyes flare up for a second, but he quickly covers it with a loud laugh. I suck my cheeks and swallow my adoration to his charming smile. He stops laughing after taking my fake stern look. "I need to be your sub before you can punish me. I will not be a sub to you."
My lips twitch to a frown after hearing his reply. I grab a pillow and throw it at him. “I will not be a sub to you, either. This punishment is a one-time deal. I won't let it happen again."
I grab another pillow but stop throwing it at him. I angrily groan and crawl from the bed. Before I can take a step away from it, Michele blocks me by hugging my waist and pushing me back to the bed.
“I can always ask Martina to teach you,” Michele offers.
"No. I don't want to hurt others or be hurt by them," I object.
Michele looks at me for a while before shaking his head. "I've been a sub, Celeste. But I don't want to be a sub to the woman I ..." he pauses for a little longer. Each passing second races my heartbeat, anticipating a confession from him. But the asshole knows how to pull me back to reality. For he adds, "I'm playing with."
He reaches for the duvet and puts it on me. I pull it off and glare at him. Play with? I've decided to take a risk in loving him. Of being in love with him. And all he can see in me is a woman to play with? I know he’s lying but – what if it’s the truth?
“Play with?” My thoughts slip out of my head.
Michele searches for a way to get out of the argument, but he surrenders and ends up attempting to walk out. But he stops when I suddenly declare, "Fine. I'll play with you. How about a new game? Let's call it the Game of Doms."
“Game of Doms?”
My mind panicked about what I should say next.
What is a Game of Doms?
How do you play it?
Why the hell did I think of it?
I gaze into Michelle's face for a while. He indeed loves to play games with me. His eyes sparkle with delight at my skeletal proposal.
“Let’s hear it then! What is the Game of Doms?”
Blankness fills my head. But suddenly, a light flickers. Switching roles? A game of Doms.
"Let's be doms and subs for each other," I begin. "We should punish each other, and the person to make the other surrender wins."
“And the prize?”
"You'll get to be the king or the queen. We can turn each other into a slave and do everything we want with the other. And he will have no right to refuse."
Michele laughs and suddenly stops. He looks at me with determined eyes and says, “She will have no right to refuse.”
His playful smirk confirms his agreement to the game but shakes my confidence. I really need to pass out every time I have an orgasm. I always end up spitting foolish things when I stay awake. Now, how do I defeat him in the Game of Doms?
One game has ended, and one of them surrendered for the sake of keeping the other. Now, Michele and Celeste, our fun and twisted couple, came up with an impromptu game. The Game of Doms. What shall be the rules? Who shall win it?
The Cumming Game made Celeste admit that she’s in love with Michele. Will the Game of Doms make Michele love her? Or will she fall out of love with him because of the game?
Find out in the next installment of this series, Enjoying Punishments, where the couple will ride the roller coaster of the new game they play.
