Page 42 of Dominant

And then I stood up and stormed out of the room, hearing her crying behind me as I closed the door. I wrapped my fingers tightly around her elastic band and stuffed it into my pocket.

The day after, I’d still been angry at her. I’d called Mark into the office to ask him to keep an eye on her at the club and he’d given me a curious look but said nothing, only nodding. It wasn’t until the night passed without seeing her that I started to soften, admitting to myself that I’d played a part in escalating the situation. She was headstrong and reactive, and she had a way of provoking me.

Sitting there in her bed, watching her sleep, I regretted my cruelty. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” I said softly, shaking her shoulder gently, and she opened her eyes and smiled at me.

She smiled at me, even though I’d last left her in tears. I lovedthat her first instinct when she saw me was to smile at me.

“What time is it?” she asked sweetly.

“Time to go to the clubhouse. Did you eat today?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes, and I saw her bruised wrist, bereft of its elastic band. It made me feel a little sad to see it. I had placed the little elastic band on my bedside table, and been unable to throw it out.

“Let me look at you,” I said, pulling the covers back from the bed. I knew I still needed to set better boundaries, but I was in a mood to exploit my power and I wanted to look at her. She had an absolutely incredible body, with full, achingly perfect breasts that I was dying to touch. Looking down at her I felt a pleasant stirring in my groin, and I reached out and caressed the side of her waist. She watched me, warily.

“An initiate has to learn to give up her boundaries,” I said in explanation, and pulled my hand away. “Get up and put on a shift.”

I followed her with my eyes as she walked over to the wardrobe. Her taut, lean thighs and firm ass were perfect.

There was no one in this House I wanted to fuck more than her, but as I’d told her myself - I never would.

Jordan

I followed Alexander to the clubhouse, searching compulsively at my wrist for my elastic band, and remembering for the millionth time it wasn’t there. I pinched the skin instead. I’d quickly learned that pinching the bruises caused the same soothing pain.

Alexander led me up the stairs to the wooden horse where I’d been spanked by Sir Vicious on my first night. I still had tender spots and I felt my eyes widen as Alexander indicated that I should bend myself over the same equipment again.

He arched an eyebrow when I hesitated, challenging me, and I obediently removed my shift and mounted the wooden structure as before. Knees and hands on the bottom brackets, chest on the top.

Alexander walked slowly around me, watching me, before tenderly stroking a hand over my exposed ass. A frisson passed through me at his touch, that touch I craved so much. He lifted his hand and struck it down hard against me, and I hissed in pain and surprise.

Once, twice, three more times he smacked me, each time bringing his palm down hard against my skin. It hurt, but the stinging pain was also its own reward. There, just on the other side of it, I remembered, was the relief I sought. The oblivion and the release. I cried out as he spanked me yet wished for even more of it. I needed to be pushed further, brought to the very brink, in order to go over the edge.

Before I was fully satisfied, the blows ceased and Alexander walked back around in front of me. He pulled off his shirt, revealing taut, muscular abs and broad shoulders. My mouth gaped open at the sight of him.

At last. I was desperate to run my hands over that torso. He looked as incredible as I imagined, right down to the deep V leading to the waistband of his pants.

As I watched him in front of me, I was caught off-guard by another sudden stinging blow to my ass. I tried to turn around, but a strong hand grabbed my head, pinning it down, while a second sting of pain shot through me.

The stranger grabbed my hair and pulled it, roughly turning my head forward so that I could watch as Alexander pulled his pants off. His cock sprung loose, large and thick and heavy, and I stared at it, hot need coursing through me. I wanted him to feed it to me, to stand in front of me and roughly fuck my face, as behind me a faceless someone rained vicious blows down on my ass.

My boss. My stern, frightening, and intimidating boss. And the man who had giggled when I first met him, pulling a hundred dollar bill out of a greedy man’s hand while we snorted with laughter. I stared at his thick, gorgeous cock, craving it.

He sat down on a club chair in front of me, and - out of nowhere it seemed - a young, naked girl appeared and kneeled between his legs. I didn’t see her face. Only the soft, loosely curled dark hair that spilled down her back, and the feminine curve of her tiny waist as she bent before him. He lifted his chin and looked directly at me, defiant and challenging, and then his eyes glazed with pleasure as she took him in her mouth. But they never left mine. He stared at me. He was with me. We were together.

I felt my own growing heat as I watched him, nearly whimpering at the sight of his pleasure. The hand released my hair and instead gripped my hips; I felt a man’s hard cock press against me. I looked to Alexander with wide eyes, but his returning gaze calmed me. He was right there, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and he nodded at me, very subtly, as if to say, trust me. I gave a shivering breath and arched my back, needing the man behind me, whoever he was. I opened myself up to him, and he let go of my hip, using one hand to guide himself as he pushed into me, parting me open.

Alexander watched me with hooded eyes, the girl between his legs bobbing her head as she took him deep into her mouth. Behind me, the anonymous and faceless man thrust himself in to the hilt, and I gasped. His cock felt thick, the sensation unbearable but exquisite. One hand grasped my ass cheek, squeezing raw flesh, and I cried out. He pounded himself into me again and again.

“Yes,” breathed Alexander, rolling his head back again but never, never taking his eyes off mine. I stared back, held him firm, kept him there with me. It wasn’t him fucking me but it was him watching, him losing control. My breath quickened, and the man behind me grunted and reached forward to grab the edge of the bench, his hand right in front of my face.

I broke eye contact with Alexander and looked at it. The nail bed was so familiar. The cleanly filed nails, the tanned fingers, and… oh god, I realized…

It was Mark. I recognized his long, lean fingers - hands that had lifted his wine glass on my introductory meeting, or pointed to documents in front of me: this line here, or that one. I would know Mark’s hands anywhere. Mark was fucking me. Mark, anonymous, was deep inside of me, and a rush of fresh arousal gave me goosebumps, making the hairs everywhere on my body stand on end as the tension inside of me burst open and I came, my pussy clamping down on Director of Operations Mark Gibson’s dick.

Wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through me but I never took my eyes off Alexander. Watching him through glazed eyes, I saw the most glorious thing I’d ever seen: Alexander’s eyebrows knitted together, and for one second, the tough, impenetrable control freak boss dissolved. For one second he was completely vulnerable.

“Fuck!” he cried, watching me like he might cry, and then his body convulsed, and he placed a hand on the girl’s head and thrust into her mouth, coming into her while he stared at me. Behind me, Mark shuddered and came with a choking breath, grabbing my hips and bending over me. His cock spasmed inside of me, and then he fell against my body for a moment before he pulled out.

The initiate between Alexander’s legs rose and left, and still we looked at each other. He gave me a crooked grin, something raw and tender in his expression.

The initiate returned with a black cape for Alexander, and he stood up and swung it around his shoulders while she picked his clothing up from the floor. He stepped towards me and offered me his hand, helping me down from the bench. I looked around to see Mark, but there was no sign of him. He had pulled out and left; he was gone already.

Alexander took my hand, pulling me towards him and kissing the top of my head, before leading me through the clubhouse, back to the House of Initiates. He held my hand the whole time, while men in black masks and subs in their white dresses turned their heads to watch us.

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