Lily gripped the end of her whip as she studied the man hunched on the stool before her. He was tall, unusual for her customers. Usually the pathetic worms she beat on were no more than five feet tall, thin shouldered and gaunt faced. She refused to touch them, but they begged to touch her. At twenty-five she had the body most girls couldn't get, even with surgery. Her hips, set wide by heredity boasted sexy curves that promised nights of fun, while a heavy pair of breasts danced high on her chest. Her backside was a cute curve of delicious muscle that made even her gay friends mouths water. She was real, and proud of it, which was good in her line of work.
Ever so gently she swiped her fingers over her new slaves shoulder, the broad sinewy feeling wetting her appetite even more. Slowly she leaned down and bit him, and though the nip was gentle, she knew she was getting her point across. She was taking charge, but even at this moment she was having second thoughts. He was big, very big, and she liked guys like him. Respected them even. She couldn't wait to get this night started.
With all the authority she could muster, she slapped him across his back with the nine tails. The straps where designed to sound more painful than they actually were, but she did what she could to make him yelp. Humanity had no place in her tiny dungeon, and if he wanted to cry about it, to bad. After a quick succession of swings she relented, noting he had yet to cry out, to say a single word of homage to her. She wondered what he was up to, but pushed the thought aside and dived onto her roll.
"Up slave, and don't fuck around, I don't have all day!"
Slowly the bulky form before her unfolded, revealing a man in his late twenties, nearly six foot six, with a beautiful Roman face, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. Heat sizzled between her thighs and she almost forgot what she was doing. By pure strength of will she fought down the urge to reach up and touch his face. What was she thinking? This was work damn it! With a renewed focus she slowly circled him, wincing at the red welts she left on that flawless back. She gazed up to his neck and noted that his hair was long and curly, the soft brown locks falling to his delectable shoulders. He put Michelangelo's David to shame. Heat seeped from his every pore, and his affect on her was far more than sexual. She wanted to roll over like a depraved dog, sit up and beg for his touch.
"My god, you are something else, aren't you." She skimmed her fingers over his tight stomach, delighting in the way every muscle jumped and flexed beneath her touch.
She looked up into his eyes and saw quiet submission, and an open honesty that she'd never seen before. Usually she was with men who couldn't tell a lie form the truth, they came to her to atone for the wrongs they had done. She lowered her gaze and looked at her leather suit. For the first time, the tight black hip huggers and bustier made her feel cheap and sleazy. Had her makeup always felt so thick, gunky? She bit her lower lip and for a moment, hung her head. If it hadn't been for the money, she would have told him to leave, but supporting ones mother and father wasn't easy. She wasn't going to put them in a home ever, even if it meant degrading herself daily. Tears prickled at her eyes. She couldn't help it, but she couldn't let him see that.
She sucked in a deep breath and slapped him hard on the ass. His eyes never wavered, though she could tell he felt the sting by the small tightening of his jaw. She went to his back and gazed at the gently sweep of his spine, following it to where it slipped beneath his jeans. Jealous of the coal black material, her fingers cupped the taut curve of his posterior. Her lips gently touched the welts that she had given him earlier, the need to be dominant no longer prevalent. His hands had stayed at his sides, but now she wanted them in her hair, and wrapped around her waist. She slipped around him, and gently took his hand in hers, leading him to a small table at the edge of the room.
"Lift me up here, slave." She patted the smooth surface, and his large hands gently grasped her hips and lifted her onto it. He stepped back from the v of her legs, and desperation caught at her throat. She hooked her legs behind his and pulled him to her.
"No, stay slave, pleasure me." Her voice was no longer commanding, but soft and seductive. She watched with fascination as he lowered his head to hers and gently brushed her lips with his.
"What would my mistress wish for me to do?"
Lily gasped at the sound of his husky baritone, and the soft sweep of his lips on hers as he spoke. It was the first time she ever heard him speak, and she wanted him to keep talking.
"I want to know your name, and what you think of my body." The request was out before she could stop it, and she looked into his eyes to see if he could feel her need. If he did he was hiding it, because the blackened blue depths held nothing but lust. He held her, as if she would break, reverence in his touch, and his forehead rested on hers, the intimate stance only sweetened by the fact that his big body was clutched between her trembling thighs.
"My name is Micheal. As for your body, I think it's sexy as hell." He kissed her again, and though she tried not to, she shivered. She sank into the kiss and with a sigh relented her control.
"I'm Lily." She whispered dumbly when he let her breath.
He grinned slyly and kissed her nose. " I know, my assistant called you for me."
