94

Summer
I’ve never been so turned on in my life. My bare pussy lips rub together as I drive, begging to be touched, but I won’t disobey Carlo, even though he’d never know the difference.
My emotions are a jumbled mess. Even though it’s just a game, his mock sternness has me desperate to win my approbation. I truly feel like a sorry, chastised sex slave. If sorry, chastised slaves are also one stroke away from an orgasm.
I use the key he gave me and let myself into his apartment, breathing in his scent. I’ve already come to love the place. Just being here arouses me, making me feel submissive, owned.
And cared for.
That is the part I can’t get over. Carlo Romano is as sweet as he is dominant. Between torturing me with his flogger, using his clever mouth and tongue between my legs, and shoving his cock into my mouth, he pushed sips of water and checked my wrist cuffs to make sure they weren’t leaving marks. He watched me intently with those hazel eyes, monitoring my reactions, really seeing me.
I’m not sure anyone has ever truly seen me before. Not my parents, who want me to fit into an ideal they have for me. Certainly not John, who saw me through poop-colored glasses. Maggie knows me, but not like this. Carlo looks into my very soul… and doesn’t find me lacking. His intense gazes are hard to read, but I never sense condemnation from him, never criticism.
I strip out of my clothes and eye the various corners of the bedroom. I choose the one directly to the right, so he’ll have the full view of me when he walks in. Kneeling on the hard wood, I settle my bare butt on my feet, my pussy still buzzing from the spanking and my own erotic thoughts.
The key turns in the lock, and I straighten, folding my hands in my lap and staring at the corner. I listen to Carlo’s footsteps as he enters the bedroom, the sound of him emptying his pockets onto the dresser, the clink of change.
“You were a very naughty girl tonight, Summer.”
My pelvic floor lifts, pussy clenching. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Don’t lie, bambi. You’re not sorry.”
My breasts ache, nipples tight, hardened points. Of course, he’s right. I’m not sorry at all. I’m very pleased with myself.
“Come to me.”
I stand, easing my weight off my swollen foot gently.
“Your foot is hurting you.” He sits on the bed, his face shadowy in the lamplight.
I lift my shoulders. “A little.”
“No more high heels. No more ignoring the pain. If it’s swelling, you pay attention-put it up, ice it, go see your physical therapist.”
I want him to stop talking about my foot and get back to the good stuff, but to avoid irritating him, I give a submissive. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes narrow as if he knows I’m blowing smoke up his ass. “Okay, how about this-if I see that foot swollen and you not doing something about it, I’m going to punish you.”
“Carl-o,” I protest.
“I’m serious, principessa.” He raises a stern eyebrow.
This time I do roll my eyes, which is probably not my smartest move. In a flash, I find myself over his lap with his hand slapping my ass. Considering my state of need, the pain hardly registers. I lift my butt to his hand, squirming and fighting, just to see what he’ll do.
He holds me tight against his body, clamping one leg over both mine to lock me in place and slapping my upturned ass with a steady rhythm. I could orgasm from the spanking alone. My entire body buzzes, pussy quivering. Moisture leaks onto my thighs. If only I can get my fingers…
Carlo catches my hand and bends it behind my back. “Naughty angel. Did I say you could touch yourself?”
“Please, Carlo,” I pant. I don’t want him to stop, I want more. I need release, desperately.
“What happens if I catch you with a swollen foot?”
Despite the fact that I want him to drop the subject and move on to my pleasure, I argue with him. “That’s not really fair, Carlo. I can’t always drop everything and put my foot up.”
He slaps the backs of my thighs, which makes me yelp. “Bambi, are you actually arguing with me?”
“Ow,” I laugh and wriggle as he continues to spank. “No! I’m not arguing. Sorry!”
He stops spanking me, massaging my heated ass. “What happens if I catch you with a swollen foot?”
“I get punished.” I sound sulky.
“I will consider the circumstances.” He brushes my hair from my shoulder and smoothes it away from my face.
I give him a bit of a boo-boo lip, which seems to amuse him.
He squeezes my ass. “Stand, cara mia.”
I push to my feet and rub my tingling cheeks.
“Hold out your hand, palm up, with your fingers spread wide.”
Curious, I obey.
He scoops up something that jingles from the bed table beside him. On each of my fingertips, he lays a single dime, until I balance five coins. “Put the fingers of your other hand on top, so you’re sandwiching the dimes. Good. Now turn your hands so they’re vertical and lift them above your head. If you drop any of the coins, you lose your turn.”
“My turn?”
His grin is devilish. “Yeah, your turn. Now, do it. When I give you an instruction, I expect obedience.”
Oh, the things he says sometimes. The task is easier said than done. Keeping the pressure even on the pads of each of my fingertips takes concentration. Slowly, I stretch my arms overhead.
Carlo grips my waist and moves me back to stand in the center of the bedroom. Already my arms tremble. He walks a slow circle around me, observing my body with a heavy-lidded gaze. He’s still fully dressed, while I stand naked and vulnerable.
Walking to the dresser, he picks up a little brown bottle and unscrews the cap.
I lick my lips, watching.
He puts his fingertip over the top of the bottle and inverts it. “Peppermint oil.” He rubs a circle around my nipple. He repeats the action with the other one, then blows on them. They go cold-a burning cold that makes me shift my hips from side to side in frantic need.
Carlo sinks to his knees at my feet. Gripping one ankle, he pulls my feet apart. He brings his thumbs to my labia and spreads me wide.
My legs and arms tremble with the exertion of holding the position. “What are you doing?”
“Just looking, bambi. Looking at your beautiful pussy. You have a porn pussy, you know that?”
I almost lose the dimes as I suppress a giggle. “What’s a porn pussy?”
“This. This fucking gorgeous, shaved little pussy that drips for me right now while I watch.”
It seems he’ll never lose the power to make me blush. “Carlo,” I choke.
He smiles up at me, showing he understands how hard I find it to stay in position. Pulling back the hood of my clitoris, he extends his tongue and gives the sensitive nubbin one quick flick.
I buck, barely managing to hold my fingertips together.
Carlo repeats the action-just a single cruel flick-enough to send spasms of sensation jolting through my core, but not enough to bring satisfaction.
“Carlo, please.”
He smiles again, the leonine grin. “I like it when you beg, principessa.”
I shiver. My elbows bend of their own accord, and I start to lower my arms.
Carlo’s look turns disapproving, and my arms shoot back up toward the sky. “Do not disappoint me, bambi. I expect your complete obedience.”
“Carlo, I can’t.” But I do. I don’t know how we arrived at this unique relationship so suddenly, but here I am, obeying for no other reason than that he demands it.
Well, that’s a lie. I obey for a multitude of reasons, and most of them revolve around the insane number of orgasms Carlo provides.
To my disappointment, he stands and walks back to the dresser, getting more peppermint oil, which he mixes with something else. When he returns, he stands behind me and grasps my throat, as if he might choke me, but his fingers are gentle. Still, the symbolic position has an effect on me. Fear-the pretend, role-playing kind-shoots through me, making my knees buckle, so the hand at my throat holds me up. Knowing that Carlo is, in fact, a dangerous man only heightens my excitement. Those same strong fingers have closed around other throats with genuine threat. They’ve certainly ended lives. Yet I feel completely safe in his hands, my trust in him absolute.
“Arch your back and show me your ass,” he murmurs in my ear.
I tip my pelvis back. His fingers, slick with oil, find the crack of my ass. I tighten my cheeks belatedly, realizing he just applied the same stinging peppermint oil to my anus. “Carlo…”
“Are you burning for me, bambi?”
“Yes… please, Carlo. Please?”
“Keep begging, cara.”
I attempt to lower my elbows again, but Carlo catches them. “Did you want the scene to end?”
My brain’s turned fuzzy. Does he mean he will stop touching me if I drop the dimes? Because he promised punishment before, and that sounds perfect to me at the moment. “No-o?”
He sucks at the place where neck meets shoulder, then bites down. “You’re doing very well, amore mio. Now stand still and get your reward.”
Forcing my arms back up straight, I lock my knees.
Carlo returns to his position at my feet. Reaching between my legs, he cradles my ass as he licks along the seam of my pussy.
I thrust my pelvis forward. “Oh…”
He seeks my back hole with one finger and massages the burning oil into the tight ring of muscle.
I’m close to spontaneous combustion; my nipples and asshole burn, my pussy pulses with desperate need. my arms ache, and the blood has run out of my hands, making it more difficult to keep the pressure on the dimes. On top of it all, lust has made me lightheaded, so I fear I might just fall over in a faint at any moment.
“Carlo, Carlo, Carlo, please.”
He chuckles. “That’s it, doll. Beg for it.” He circles my clit with his tongue then draws the little button into his mouth, sucking hard. At the same time, he breaches my back hole with one finger.
I scream, my arms jerking, almost losing control of my precious coins. “Please, please, please. Oh God, Carlo, please.”
His thumb enters my pussy, pumping in and out rapidly.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh please.” I need it faster, harder. I need more. I’m so. Damn. Close. Desperate for release. Desperate to drop my arms from their arduous task.
Carlo continues sucking, alternately pumping one finger into my ass and the thumb into my pussy.
I lose it. My scream fills the room as I lose everything-the dimes crashing down to the floor, my legs turning to jelly as my pussy spasms in wave after wave of violent release.
Carlo holds me up, still pumping his fingers, still sucking until I fall over him, my hands on his shoulders, my body limp as a rag doll.