What She's Looking For (21 page)

What the fuck?

But it was the truth. She wanted
him to be proud of her, to praise her even. It was something so simple, but
appreciation from him, from the man she was increasingly looking upon with
almost a budding sense of awe was becoming ever more important to her. She
wanted to bring happiness, even joy to her man. And she knew now that Parker
derived the most joy from her obedience, even when that obedience resulted in
her humiliation, from her doing
exactly
as he’d told her.

Ashley knew she could do that. She
knew she could — eventually — be that girl for him. The one who made him smile,
chased away the shadow she saw in those cruel, but beautiful eyes, banish the
trouble he wasn’t quite able to submerge in their depths. A tear tracked down
her cheek, and before she could shake it away, a big thumb had wiped it from
her heated skin. Looking up at him, she found a warmth there she hadn’t often
seen … and something else.

“Sir, I need … I know I don’t
deserve it. But please. I need to touch you.”

More than anything she just wanted
to feel him in her arms, to enjoy the hard maleness of him, that strength that
both frightened and aroused her. That strength would help her come to terms
with the fact that she was subject to him. That it was something she agreed
with, something she needed.

His.

Arms quickly unbound, Parker felt
the temperature of her hands, his fingers tracing the abrasions from the cuffs
that would no doubt be sore tomorrow. But now, all that mattered was being
close, being with him. Sharing herself with him. Her arms ached to hold him, to
give him that solace of the touch of his woman. Her heart suspected he needed
much more than he let on, and she knew then that she was prepared to give it.
To help heal the terrible hurt she had seen in that gaze. Whatever it was, she
wanted to take it upon herself, to unburden him of it. Most of all, she wanted
to be useful to him, to … serve him.

Her arms wrapped around his waist,
pulling him tight to her, her breasts squeezed against those hard thighs, his
soft, wet genitals warm against her upper chest. They stayed that way for some
minutes, Parker’s hands stroking through the strands of her hair until she
almost purred with the simple pleasure of it, her soft lips pressing gentle
kisses against the defined musculature of his belly, luxuriating in the lean
power of his body against the yielding vulnerability of hers. Finally he spoke.

“Ashley, are you ready for all of
this? For what it will mean for you?”

The question shocked her, and she
craned her head up to try to look at him, but he pressed her face against his
warm belly again. “I don’t understand,” she murmured against his skin.

“What I want, what I’ll demand from
you. It will be a lot. It will eventually be everything.” He used a handful of
her hair to turn her cheek against him so that he could stroke the other one. “It’s
not just me either. There will be Drake’s requirements too.”

“Is he … like you?”

“In what I want, and need?”

She nodded against him, her heart
pounding, not even sure she knew what the right answer was.

“He’s a Dom, like me, Ashley. But
as far as being like me? He’s got his own very particular requirements. It’s going
to be hard for you to adjust to.”

“I can do it. I want this.” She
breathed deeply, pressing another kiss to his flesh. “I want both of you.
Whatever it is, no matter how hard. I want all of it.”

“And the pain? Do you think you can
handle it? Would you even want that too?”

She paused, her entire body
tensing. How does a girl answer a question like that?

Tell him that pain makes your
pussy wet and your clit ache, you slut.

“Yes, I want that too, I think.”

“Oh Ashley, how is this possible?”
He crouched over her, cradling her head in his arms, resting his chin on her
head. “You really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, do you?”

“No clue, Sir.”

The warmth of his laughter made her
smile — really smile — for the first time in a long time.

Chapter Seventeen

F
ew things in this world were better
than having a submissive, obedient woman under his thumb. Parker had smiled to
himself at the crestfallen look in Ashley’s eyes as he’d pressed the gag back
between her teeth, a moment’s protest on her part silenced by a solemn shake of
his head.

Now, as she silently trembled
before him, up on the balls of her feet, her slim calves bunched with the
strain, and arms stretched to the heavens once more, he wondered. Not if she
was ready for this — he was sure of it now. Not if he was ready for this — the
erection throbbing in his jeans, and the delicious tension crackling through
his body confirmed the truth of it.

He wondered if he could hold
himself back from doing all that he wanted. In this beautiful, vulnerable woman
a dark fantasy world of possibilities had opened up before him. As his hand
coursed over her flesh, claimed her curves as his, always
his
, ideas,
urges, and dreams tripped over one another, all wanting, yearning to be
realized, satisfied — fulfilled. Parker hoped he’d have the self-control he’d
need to guide her on the journey that was just beginning, a journey that would
involve the exploration of every part of her, physically, psychologically, and
emotionally.

Her body twisted slightly, her
wrists working within the cuffs. Parker leaned close. “Remember. Grab that bar
or your wrists are going to kill you. It’s the only choice I’m giving you in
this.”

Obedience pleased him — especially
hers — and the satisfaction at seeing her hands clasp that wood bar of the
harness, was pure, rich. Doing as she was told — something he’d soon ensure
would be second nature to her.

But first it was time for her first
lesson.

“Tell me, girl.” His hand clasped
her naked cunt, a shudder passing through her thighs. “Do you want to come?”

Her nod was so emphatic he had to
bite the inside of his cheek to avoid smiling.

“And do you think you deserve to
come?”

This time her reply in the
affirmative was considerably less …certain.

“We’ll see, girl. First, you need a
shower.” He turned on the water again, turning the knob that redirected the hot
stream through the detachable wand. “Would you like me to wash you?”

Her smile was apparent even through
the strictures of her gag, the urge to kiss her stretched lips overpowering.
Since he was in a position to do so, he indulged himself, pressing light kisses
to the straining lips, catching one between his teeth, the nip making her
whine. Despite the sharp pain, he was pleased to see her lean toward him as
much as her tight bonds allowed, the need to be touched by him by now strong
within her — even if that touch sometimes brought pain.

The sight of the water sluicing
down her body was nearly impossible to resist, the thought of wrapping her legs
around his waist and plunging deep into the wet, needy cunt vivid in his mind.

Soon.

First, it was time to show her just
what she was getting herself into.

His hands squeezed the heavy, soapy
weight of her breasts, and her moans were something he was quite certain he
could listen to forever. From the cords of her slender neck, all the way to her
dainty, feminine feet (he knew she was self-conscious about them) his roving
hands didn’t stop until every inch of her skin glistened with soap, her curves
emphasized, showcased, her beauty making him wish he could keep her that way
day and night.

He slapped her wet flank, the sound
echoing off the walls. “Turn around now, girl. Show me that big bottom of
yours.” Leaning in again, he caught her earlobe between his teeth. “Those
clothes you wear. You try to keep it from me, from us. No more. You’re going to
start dressing the way we tell you. To show off that body. I like others to
admire my property. How can they do that if they can’t even see it?”

Her face burrowed against her arm,
a futile attempt to hide from the truth of his words.

“Now, Ashley. Turn around, and face
the wall for awhile. All I’m concerned about is that ass right now.”

Haltingly, she complied, losing her
balance once, swinging awkwardly for a moment before regaining her footing.

He stared down at the round, heavy
perfection before him. He’d gotten a good view of it before, but every time it
made his heart race. How he wanted to enjoy her, make her cry out in agony and
ecstasy, reduce her to only sensation. In moments like this she ceased to be a
woman — she was merely an ass he was going to pleasure, punish — use. He
reached up and clasped a wet shoulder in a bruising grip, slapping a hand down
on one ass cheek, sending the lush flesh wobbling.

“Good girl, you’re learning.” She
let her cheeks stay loose, despite her certainty that he was about to hurt
them. He really wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. He relished her
uncertainty, even her fear, and keeping her off-balance provided its own
pleasure to him. “Do you know what a man thinks when he sees a big, round
bottom like this? Have you ever wondered?”

A soft whimper escaped her gag.

His hand cupped the heavy flesh of
her bottom, squeezing, threatening. “He wants to make it his. All
his
.”
He released her shoulder to grip each cheek in a hand, kneading her slick flesh
in his fingers. “It is isn’t it, girl? This ass is ours, mine and Drake’s. And
we’ll guard it jealously. You’ll never think of another man, when we get done
with you.” He smacked her bottom harshly, Ashley’s pained grunt making his cock
throb anew. He grasped the shaft, slapping her ass with it. “You’ll have all
you can handle from us, girl. You’ll wish you weren’t blessed with an ass that
calls to us like prey to a predator.”

He spread soap over the broad
curves of her ass, squeezing the flesh between slippy fingers, the dusky bloom
of his handprint against the pale background glistening in the light. Easing
down her thighs, he roughly scrubbed a palm between her legs, his hand rasping
against the hot softness of her labia.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered. “No,
more. As far as you can.”

The weight of those beautiful legs
posed, trembling on the balls of her feet, as he crouched behind her, coating
the firm contours of her thighs, the bunched muscles of her calves shining with
soap. His fingers tickled the vulnerable flesh of the soles of her feet, making
her shake in her harness, a desperate squeak coming from behind her gag.

Ashley’s body jerked as he rose
behind her, his hand clasping her pussy in his slick palm once more. His
fingertips luxuriated in the soapy curls of her mound, catching the hard nodule
of her clit between two fingers, stroking forward and back between her lush
thighs. He kept at her for a few minutes, alternating stroking her clit with
light slaps against the dripping sex, feeling her flesh swell yet further under
his hand. Soon enough, her hips waved, rocking spasmodically in time with his
stroking, her breath coming hard through her nostrils. He was going to show her
what she could expect at his hands, at her Master’s hands — the unexpected.

His fingers thrust between the
burning hot, swollen folds, searching for that sensitive bundle of nerves,
knowing she was helpless against stimulation of that part of her body. He
stroked it firmly, almost rough with her, his off hand clasping her hip hard,
her flesh turning white under his harsh grip.

“Does this feel good, Ashley?”

She nodded against her arms, her
wet locks sticking to her soapy skin.

“Do you want more? Do you want to
come, girl?” He knew the answer of course, her hips now rotating with his
thrusts, her broad buttocks twitching, her gag -muffled keening confirming her
desperation. His voice lowered further, rasping in her ear. “Would you like me
to fuck you? Do you want my cock?”

Her movements stilled, but her body
shivered against him. Then she thrust her ass back at him as far as her
spraddle-legged stance allowed, her emphatic nod whipping her hair against her
back. The dark tones of his chuckle echoed in the close, humid space of the
enclosure.

“I don’t think you deserve it,
girl. Maybe I should just leave you hanging here, your ass thrust back like a
mare in heat? Hmm?”

Her wail behind her gag made him
smile, and he laid a gentle kiss against the wet hair plastered to her scalp. “Prove
to me you deserve it, then.”

The feel of her plump labia against
the burning length of his cock almost sent him over the edge as he thrust it
between her thighs, the broad head spreading the soft lips on each plunge and
retreat. He could feel the stiff clit at each thrust, and he paused now and
then to worry it with the head of his penis. He loved that her clit was so
prominent. Like breasts, he loved playing with a woman’s clit, and it
fascinated him how so much sensation could be concentrated in that small bundle
of nerves, how much control he could exert over a woman, helpless to the
overpowering sensation flooding her body.

He leaned close, kissing the curve
of her ear. “We’ve talked about piercing this clit, you know. Drake wants to
put a barbell through the hood, just to tease you with it. But I wonder, girl.”
He caught the cartilage of her ear between his teeth, nipping. “I’m not sure
that would be the right thing for you. I wonder if you’d need more pain than
that.” His tongue licked at the lobe, and he sucked it between his lips. “I
think a nice, super thin needle right through the base might be what you really
want. Is that right?”

Her head shook, and she whined
behind the gag, every muscle in her body tensing.

“Perhaps soon we’ll find out, hmm?
You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?” His fingers glided through her
curls, pulling back the hood, a single fingertip circling the hard clit round
and round. Her hips bucked again, the chains of the harness rattling above
them. “You’re imagining that hard, bright burst of pain, wondering if you’ll be
able to take it. Fearing how embarrassed you’ll be when we see how much that
cunt gushes at the very idea. At the very idea that you
need
that pain.
Pain from us, the men who own you.”

He knew it would probably be too much
for her — at least right away. But she needed to know what being owned might
really mean. She needed to understand, on an elemental level, that as his
property she might have to endure that very thing. He’d never really hurt her,
but if he decided she needed to have her clit pierced, then no matter what kind
of pain that needle might cause as it impaled her flesh, she was going to have
to endure. For him, for her — to show that she was his. All his.

Surrendered.

There would be time for that, time
to explore those dark hidden rooms of her sexuality, those parts of her needs,
her urges, her depraved dreams that even she wasn’t sure she could examine.
He’d force her to admit all of it, show him what she was really made of, that
the waters of Ashley’s soul were as deep, dark and storm-tossed as his own
were.

But now he couldn’t resist further.
She
was
his, and he didn’t have to restrain himself anymore. He grasped
her hips in his hands, canting them so that the bright red of her sex shone
between her shaking thighs, her big bottom quivering. Her long, lost groan as
his cock slid into her, made him grin. He pushed as deeply as a man could go
within his woman, then held her there, staked upon him, a trophy prize claimed
by his cock. Her bottom clenched and released against his lower belly, the
slick softness of her flesh making him want to squeeze their vulnerability in
his hands again.

“Don’t move that ass, girl. This is
for me, for taking the time to bathe you today. It won’t always be like this.”
The slow thrusting within her hot depths was nearly undoing him already, and he
grit his teeth, trying to resist the liquid delight of the clutch of her sex.
He stroked within her at his pace, slapping her lush buttocks when she tried to
thrust against him, his growled admonishments making her hang her head.

He liked her that way — resigned to
her fate. Surrendering to him. Here in his arms she didn’t have to fight it
anymore; she could be taken over, be used, controlled, brought to that
elemental, primitive place that spoke to the feminine urge to submit. He knew
not all women possessed that urge, but an astonishingly large number did — if
you probed deeply enough.

And even fewer of them ever decided
to embrace that proto-female need and make it part of their conscious lives. It
made what Ashley was that much more rare, a precious gem he’d stumbled upon in
a stroke of luck, something he was so grateful for, he’d not words to express
it.

But right now anyway, she didn’t
need to know that.

The movement of his cock within her
was only for him, fast enough to have his balls tightening already, but too
slow to really give her what she needed. He worked that hard clit with his
fingers until her panting was obvious even with the gag, the slickness of her
sex dripping off the both of them. Just as she threatened to fly off into outer
space, he’d relent, stilling within her and enjoying the frustrated clenching
of her desperate, deprived sex upon his hard cock. He’d spread her cheeks and
circle the whorl of her anus with a finger, working the sweat and soap against
the delicate flesh there. He delighted in the way it shrunk in on itself at his
insistent stroking, the frightened clenching only goading him to probe her
further. Parker shook his head, smiling to himself at the way that ass was
going to try to shrink away when Drake put that cock of his to it.

She’d be learning another lesson
when that happened: that her body was no longer hers.

Ashley moaned behind her gag, the
frustration in her tone flooding him with a rich pleasure, the satisfaction of
a man opening the eyes of his submissive to new discoveries — ones she may or
may not particularly like.