My Fair Monster Page 11

  Michael’s words hammered at Jane, filling her with dark pleasure and erotic anxiety.

  Michael lay beside her, head propped on one hand, the other roaming her naked, spread body. He casually pinched her nipple, twisting and pulling it up away from her breast.

  Jane panted into the gag.

  He drew patterns on her stomach, toyed with her belly button and stroked the inside of her thighs. His touch was delicate and soft.

  Jane cussed him out. She demanded, in the most stringent terms possible, that he quit petting her and do something already. She pleaded. She begged. He heard none of it.

  Jane glared at him, her mumblings barely audible around the gag. Michael smiled down at her, his fingers playing at the top of her thighs.

  Michael put three fingers together and shoved them into her, deep and hard. Jane gasped around the gag, stars sparkling at the edges of her vision. She’d been so focused on him, on getting him to do what she wanted, that the sudden deep invasion had struck her like a sucker punch, like a bolt of lightning.

  The muscles of her sex fluttered around his fingers as thrills of pleasure shot up and down her legs. He pulled his fingers out and eased them back in, slow and gentle. Jane sighed in pleasure.

  “My pretty girl likes that, doesn’t she?”

  Jane nodded.

  Michael pulled his fingers from her. He chuckled when Jane growled.

  “Enough of this, it’s time to really play.” With that, Michael left the room.

  He was gone long enough that Jane started to freak out. When he returned, still naked, still hard, he carried a tray. He set the tray on the buffet by her laptop, where Jane couldn’t see what was on it.

  He climbed onto the bed, something held behind his back in one hand. He stretched out beside her, head partially resting on her shoulder, and popped her nipple into his mouth.

  He alternated sucking with faint nibbles. He flicked her softly with his tongue and blew across the pebbled peak. He bit the meat of her breast, sucking the flesh so she would wear the mark of his teeth for days.

  And through it all, Jane did nothing.

  She ached to touch him, to demand things with her hands, to tell him what she liked, what she wanted. But she could do none of those things.

  He must have noticed her twitching, because Michael lifted his head from her shoulder.

  “Are you restless, girl? Maybe I need to give you something to think about. Maybe I need to remind you that you’re mine.” He looked her in the eye and for a moment the game they were playing faded. “You are mine.”

  Jane looked away. Michael was silent for a moment. Then he bit her nipple, hard.

  “My girl needs to remember that I caught her, and that means I can do anything I want to her.”

  The hand not supporting his head was moving, though Jane couldn’t see what he was doing. A drop of water hit her thigh and his cold fingers brushed the curls over her sex.

  Something hard and cold brushed the lips of her sex. Jane squealed and wiggled. Michael watched her twitch and squirm with heavy-lidded eyes. He waited until she’d calmed, having grown used to the slight cold, before he took what was left of the ice cube and pushed it into her.

  Jane gasped and moaned. The ice inside her was wet and frigid, her nipples and clit tightening in reaction. It was stimulating in a way she’d never known, and the novelty was delicious.

  The ice melted, water seeping from her, aided by his fingers, which played with the lips of her sex and occasionally forayed in.

  “Naughty, naughty. You melted the ice.” Michael took another ice cube, larger this time because it hadn’t half melted, and pushed it in.

  Jane’s eyes widened. She felt this one. She could actually feel the vaguely square outline.

  Michael sat up, repositioning himself between her legs. He spread open her sex, looking at her. As she had on that first night, standing on the coffee table, Jane was aroused by being so intimately inspected.

  He pushed in a second and then a third ice cube, watching as they disappeared into her.

  The cold was overwhelming, consuming, touching her in places that liked warmth. She clenched her muscles, inching the ice cubes out.

  “No,” Michael commanded. “You will keep them in until I take them out.” He used his thumb to force the cubes farther inside Jane.

  Michael took a fresh ice cube and pressed it down on her clit.

  Jane screamed into the gag as her body spasmed from the stimulus. She may have orgasmed, she couldn’t tell. He’d bound her to the bed, he’d taken control of her body, was pleasuring her in dark ways, and the stimulus from all these things was nearly overwhelming.

  He’d taken away the ice cube and was stroking her clit, which was slightly numb, with one warm finger. He trailed the ice cube up and down the inner lips of her sex. The ice cube moved lower, over the entrance of her body, then lower still, stroking sensitive skin.

  He wouldn’t…

  He would.

  Michael pressed the half melted ice cube against her ass, rubbing it back and forth to get the tight muscle wet. He then pushed the ice into her ass, using his finger to push it fully inside her.

  Jane’s lower body came up off the bed, every muscle going tense. He gave her no reprieve. One by one he fished what remained of the ice cubes from her sex, then forced them into her ass. Even that was not enough for him.

  He took a new ice cube and pushed it against her. The edges felt sharp, the whole thing impossibly large and cold. Jane clenched her ass, trying to keep it out. Michael frowned, taking away the cube for a moment to work his index finger into her.

  “Relax,” he commanded.

  She couldn’t. She was scared of having that ice cube pushed inside her. He pulled his finger out, and before she could clench again he pushed the ice cube hard against her.

  Jane yelped as it slid part way in. And there it stayed, clenched firmly in the wide ring of muscle. Michael had his finger on the end, but he was just holding it there, not pushing it any farther in. Her own resistance held it in place from the other side.

  “This is your punishment. You’ve been very bad.”

  Her ass was going numb. When she wiggled it she could feel the cubes knocking against one another inside her. The hard, cold cube holding her ass spread wide open was arousing and painful and stimulating.

  “Relax your ass and take the cube inside.”

  Jane shook her head on the pillow.

  “If you relax, I will only make you take one more inside you. If you continue to resist, that number will go up.”

  Michael’s voice was cold and stern, unlike his normal way of speaking. If she closed her eyes she could pretend it was a stranger who’d done this to her, an evil sex fiend who’d kidnapped her and was training her to be his live-in sex doll.

  Jane’s fantasy was not particularly original, but it worked for her.

  Michael brushed her clit, a single gentle stroke.

  Jane orgasmed. Her stomach, thighs and toes clenched, her teeth biting hard into the scarf. She tried to lose herself in the fantasy of a nameless, faceless man taking her and bending her to his will, but it wouldn’t form. Instead she opened her eyes, looked at Michael and the reality of playing kidnapped sex slave with him was a hundred-thousand times better than fantasy.

  There was lightning in his eyes.

  Jane looked into his eyes as the pleasure he’d given her wracked her body.

  When she collapsed flat against the bed, breathing hard through her nose, Michael smiled. His finger was stroking her ass. Jane shifted and she could feel the large ice cube he’d forced into her ass as she came.

  “Not bad. Five or six more and I might let you go.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  No more, no more, no more. Ohhhhhhh, yes. Don’t stop.

  Michael’s tongue swept across her clit, closely followed by his teeth. Jane moaned, rubbing her cheek against his cock.

  Michael’s mouth had been on her clit for the past twenty
minutes. He’d started out soft, just lapping at her. The gentle touch had kept her stimulated, but wasn’t painful on her orgasm-sensitive body.

  The problem had been the position. With Jane lying flat on the bed there hadn’t been room between her legs for Michael to lie down, and when he lay off to the side, on top of one of her legs, Jane had been sure her leg was about to snap.

  Michael had solved this problem by flipping around, his knees by her shoulders, elbows alongside her hips, and lapping at her that way. The position pressed his cock against her cheek.

  He slid one hand under her thigh and ass, fingers spearing into her from below. He slid two fingers into her, and though the position didn’t allow them to go that far in, Jane moaned in pleasure.

  His big body was hovering over hers, his hot cock was pressed to her cheek, his face buried between her legs.

  He lapped at her, each stroke of his tongue like a single drop of water into a tall thin glass. When the water reached the top, she would explode in pleasure, but the journey was long and slow. Torturously slow.

  She wanted his fingers, hard and rough, against her clit, stimulating her more quickly, giving her the pleasure now.

  His teeth closed on her clit and Jane yelped into the gag, the sensation so intense, her response so vivid, that the bed groaned as she pulled on the scarves.

  More please, oh please touch me faster and softer. I’m addicted to the pleasure, and you’re my dealer.

  “I feel you twitching,” he said, voice muffled against her sex. His moving lips brushed her clit at uneven intervals and Jane had to concentrate on his words so as not to lose herself in the pleasure.

  “I know what you want. You want me to make you come, you want me to lick you and lick you until you come. But you have to earn your pleasure.”

  Michael sat, knees still on either side of her shoulders, and rocked back so he could look down at her.

  “I’m going to remove your gag.” He inched his index finger into her mouth. “You are not allowed to talk when I take this out. Your mouth is going to be busy sucking my cock. If you do try to speak, you’ll be punished.”

  He fished the knotted fabric out of her mouth and started picking apart the damp fabric.

  “You seemed to like that last punishment, so next time I’ll be rougher.”

  He got the knots free, and pulled the scarf from under her head. Jane licked her lips and opened and closed her mouth a few times, but didn’t speak.

  “If you talk—” his voice dropped, until it was a menacing growl, “—I’ll punish you. I’ll take a chili, the hottest one I can find, and break it open. Then I’ll press the oil against your clit and rub it in. Your poor little clit will be on fire, aching and burning. Then I’ll rub the chili all over your anus and push the pieces into you. Your pussy and ass will be on fire.”

  Jane, so caught up in the fantasy, so aroused by all that had happened, was severely tempted to say something, just to get the punishment. After twenty minutes of light strokes and licks, the fire of a chili on her clit actually seemed like a good idea. Even if she did say something, she knew he wouldn’t do it. She looked up at Michael, and he smiled at her, his look gentle, at odds with his words, and Jane knew he would never hurt her, not really.

  Michael stroked her lips and cheeks with his fingers. “You’re gorgeous, Jane, and just as passionate as I’d imagined.”

  He leaned forward. His cock brushed her cheek and chin. Jane wiggled her head until she was able to slip him into her mouth. Michael lowered himself, his cock pushing in deep, pressing her tongue to the back of her mouth. Jane nearly panicked, it felt like he would choke her, but she moved her tongue just as his mouth settled between her legs.

  At the first swipe of his tongue over her clit, her panic at having his cock in her mouth morphed into blinding arousal. There was something elemental in servicing your man this way.

  Your man… That’s right, he’s mine.

  Jane clamped down on that thought, throwing it in a dark cupboard in her mind. That wasn’t a place she wanted to go right now.

  He lifted and lowered his hips, fucking himself into her mouth, and Jane’s attention snapped back to the situation at hand. She licked and sucked, unable to pay proper attention to the sensitive underside with her tongue. She applied a bit of teeth and was rewarded with a groan that vibrated her sex.

  His hands slipped under her ass, cupping it. He twisted his face side to side, working his lips between those of her sex. His tongue set to work, lapping her swollen clit.

  Jane sucked on his cock, nearly frantic with arousal. She sucked his cock and wished that it was in her, wished she could feel his width and length tunneling into her.

  He picked up the pace of the licking, his tongue moving at a steady rhythm. He was applying more pressure than he had before, and the muscles low in Jane’s belly drew tight as he licked her towards orgasm.

  He pressed his tongue flat to her clit and rubbed it back and forth, then pushed his tongue to a point and circled her clit.

  Jane was moaning and gasping around his cock, unable to concentrate enough to do anything more than occasionally suck. Michael compensated for this by fucking his cock in and out of her mouth.

  The air was close and hot, their skin slippery with sweat.

  Jane opened her mouth, panting around his cock. She gasped and moaned around his cock, reveling in his dominance over her, that he would put his cock in her mouth to make her pleasure him.

  His tongue continued to move over her clit, pressing flat to rub, then circling at a point, and finally the tip flicking against the exposed tip of her clit.

  The orgasm built in her belly. Bound and gagged by him pressed deep into her mouth, there was nothing she could do to increase the pace and speed herself to orgasm, so Jane lay anxious beneath Michael as he played her body.

  He licked her over and over, tongue moving against her clit in a relentless, steady rhythm. Drop by drop he filled her up, until with a final flick her orgasm flooded her. Jane arched her hips off the bed, pressing her sex hard against his face. She sucked his cock deep into her mouth, the oral stimulation driving her orgasm higher.

  When her ass dropped back to the bed, Michael buried his face in her sex and went back to licking. Jane yelped around his cock. She was too sensitive, his attentions were almost painful.

  She mumbled and muttered around his cock. Michael pressed his cock deeper into her mouth, until it bumped her throat, silencing her.

  The muscles in her legs trembled, each lap of his tongue causing her to jerk.

  Why wouldn’t he stop?

  His cock slid in and then out of her mouth, and Jane understood. She’d come, but he hadn’t.

  He flicked her clit three times in rapid order, each one causing Jane to yelp. The threat was clear. He’d keep playing with her overly sensitive body until he came.

  Jane focused on his cock, focused on the way it felt moving in and out of her mouth. He was thick, her jaw already slightly achy. He was wet from her spit and hot against her lips and tongue.

  He pushed his cock deep into her mouth as he clamped his teeth around her clit and flicked it. Jane lifted her head from the pillow, neck straining, and took him as deep as she could, sucking hard. She clamped her teeth into the base of his cock and slowly lowered her head, bringing his hips down with her. Jane struggled to take a deep breath, then went to work sucking harder, pausing every so often to swallow. She could taste the salt of his pre-come and smell his musk.

  His actions on her clit gentled, turning into the occasional lick.

  Jane sucked his cock, working him with her teeth, throat and tongue. Soon, he couldn’t hold himself still, and Michael was fucking himself into her mouth. Jane’s lips felt abraded and abused, her tongue muscle tired from trying to stroke the tip of his cock every time he pulled out.

  He slammed into her mouth, his cheek resting on her sex, his breath pumping against her thigh as he fucked her.

  Pleasure built in Jane as she f
elt Michael approach orgasm. This kind of rough use, the base nature of what they were doing and the way he treated her, was a fantasy she’d never though she’d live out. True there was the issue of trust, but more than that Jane had never ventured to broach the topic with any of her previous lovers because that wasn’t who she was.

  She was Jane, sweet, loyal, kind, caring. A good friend. A good girlfriend. She was fun, giggly sex in a park or making out in a pool. She wasn’t rough bondage and anal play.

  With Michael she could be. Michael expected great passion from her. Whatever it was he could see in her, he was right that there were things Jane had never let herself enjoy, because she couldn’t, felt she shouldn’t.

  With Michael she could let that passion out, could crave the dark things, and rather than be shocked or horrified he would be smugly satisfied at knowing he was right.

  All these pearls of self-realization zinged through Jane’s mind as she sucked Michael’s cock, but they were washed away as Michael came, slamming his cock into her mouth.

  She swallowed his salty come, not having much of a choice as it filled the back of her throat.

  She could feel Michael trembling above her, and knowing she’d done that to him, that she could affect him that way, brought back Jane’s feelings of being a sex goddess.

  He pulled his cock from her mouth, collapsing beside her, his head pillowed on her thigh, heels propped on the wall above the headboard.

  The only sound was their combined panting.

  Jane was nearly asleep, her body flushed warm, when Michael moved, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her.

  “Two down, at least three more to go.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  INT. LOS ANGELES — WAREHOUSE

  BLOND MAN

  What happened?

  NATIVE AMERICAN MAN

  They killed it.

  “You must be kidding,” Jane croaked. Her voice was hoarse, her throat sore.

  “I never joke about pleasure.”

  “Michael, I just don’t think I can. I’m exhausted.”