Kat
Dy-ying.
I’m seriously dying. I finally found a real dom. The rush of love and well-being pouring into my brain from the hit of ecstasy makes this seem like I’ve just found Shangri La. But seriously. I feel like I have.
You’re going to get yourself spanked, little girl.
I mean, how many times did I have to prance around in a schoolgirl outfit before some guy picked up the hint?
The trouble with menboys, really. Let’s face it, none of these guys are menis that they see the sexy outfit and think it’s for them. It’s the whole male gaze thing. I learned about it in women’s studies last semestera class my dad said was bogus. So I’m playing to the male gaze. I’m giving them what they want to see from women. A sexual object to be desired. But I expect something in return.
More than a hit of ecstasy and a grope on the dance floor.
And it seems like this guy actually gets it.
Or maybe, I’m just twisting your basic alpha-hole into fantasy fodder. No. No, I’m not. He stepped in to rescue me. He was grumpy about it, but he did it. So he’s not just a selfish prick like the rest of them.
Plus, he just asked me how I wanted to be put to bed. That may be the most positive sign yet.
I turn and remember that I have puke-breath. I cover my mouth with my hand. “I need a mint. Or mouthwash. Or a toothbrush, if you’re willing to share.”
“You don’t need clean breath. I’m going to gag you.” He watches me intently like he’s gauging my reaction.
I look around, suddenly wondering if I’ve made a bad decision coming here. The place is gorgeoussmall but posh and totally immaculate, not that it proves he’s sane. Especially considering it’s devoid of anything personal.
“Kidding.” He takes his warm jacket off my shoulders and tosses it onto the kitchen counter. “Unless you’re into it.” His voice is so low and gruff. Like a grumpy bear. I love it. “You can use my toothbrush.” He takes my hand and leads me into the large, luxurious bathroom.
The cottage is lovely, and I’m rolling, so it feels almost magical. He puts toothpaste on his toothbrush while I lean against the wall and watch.
“Have you been here for long?”
“Nyet. It’s a short-term rental. I’m passing through town.” He hands me the toothbrush.
“What do you do?”
“I work in shipping.”
I nod, not really absorbing his answer because I now have a close up view of his chest. It’s as well-defined as I’d suspected. Since I have no filters at the momentnot that I have many when I’m soberI let my fingertips slip under his black t-shirt to feel his skin.
He watches me darkly. No sign of approval. “Brush your teeth,” he tells me.
My pussy clenches at the bossy command. I just might get spanked tonight! It’s looking good for me. I grin and start brushing.
He stands at the granite counter watching me, even though the normal thing to do would be to offer me some privacy in case I have to pee or something.
I finish brushing and rinse my mouth out. “Much better. Are you going to let me touch you now?”
His brows pop like he finds my request unexpected.
I bunch his shirt up in my fist and try to pull him closer, but he catches my wrist. “You like to be in charge, Kat?”
Several things hit me at once. One is the visceral reaction to his touchthe flush of heat, the desire to feel even more of that controlling strength. Then there’s the stern toneit makes my knees weak. But also, he said my name.
“What did you call me?”
Nothing changes in his face. It feels like he takes him a long time to answer, but time gets wonky when you’re rolling. “What is your name? I thought that mudak at the rave called you Kat?”
Oh, right. That makes sense. I bob my head in agreement. “Kateryna. Kat. Kit-Kat. What’s your name?”
He locks eyes with me like it’s important. “Adrian.” Still holding my wrists, he propels me backward out the bathroom door and into the tiny bedroom / living room combo. “You haven’t answered any of my questions, dietka.”
“I forgot what they were.” I’m breathless. Horny. Madly in love. But that’s the molly talking.
“I asked if you like to be in charge.”
“I am in charge,” I sass him, shaking my hands free to put them on my hips. It’s trueI hold the power until I choose to surrender it. That’s what I told Delaney when she questioned my taste in sexual encounters.
He frowns. “I should have gagged you from the start,” he says, but he doesn’t move to overpower me. I still get the feeling he’s watching for my reaction to his words.
I giggle and attempt to slide both my hands up his shirt again. “Maybe you should try,” I purr.
He spins me around and claps a hand over my mouth, yanking my body against his.
I squeal my thrill against his hand.
“Like this, dietka? You like a little struggle? Hmm. Do you want to be overpowered?”
I wrestle him.
He brings his lips to my ear. “I need a real answer.” His tone is stern. “Yes or no.” He lifts his fingers partway off my mouth.
“Yes.”
“Yes, you want me to take charge?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Don’t call me Daddy.”
I turn around to face him again. “Should I call you sir?”
“Not that, either. On your knees.”
I almost orgasm from the command. I love his accentit somehow makes him sound grumpier. Sensations are so heightened right now, I’m two strokes away from a full-body climax.
I drop to my knees and quickly work the button on his jeans. He settles one hand behind my head in a cradling way that gets me even more excited. I free his erection and take his thick length into my mouth. I wish I had more finesse, but I’m a little sloppy in general right now. Hopefully, I’ll make up for it with enthusiasm. I suction my lips around the head of his dick, tasting a drop of his salty essence.
“Yum,” I say, popping off.
I bring my free hand between my legs because I need to come so badly.
Adrian’s eyes darken, and his fingers tighten around my head, driving me forward over his cock again. “Good girl.”
Good girl! My nipples tighten in my blouse. The words are magical to me. All I ever wanted to be called, despite my efforts at playing the bad girl.
I bob over his cock, in and out, taking him right to the back of my throat every time, sucking hard, swirling my tongue on the underside. I shove my fingers inside my panties to stroke my own flesh.
I must get too enthusiastic because he grunts, “Careful with the teeth.”
“Sorry,” I gasp. “Sor”
He interrupts my apology by putting his cock back in my mouth. His grip at the base of my skull is firm without being rough. Controlling without inciting resistance. I really, really like this guy.
I don’t think it’s just the molly talking. He feels like a match. The fulfillment to all my fantasies of being dominated.
I give the blowjob my all. Even though I’m really turned on, I can’t quite make him get to the finish line. That’s how it is with ecstasy though. You’re already so happy, it’s hard to make the explosion go off. Not that I’m a huge user. This is my fourth time ever, and I’ve been on the party scene since I was fifteen.
I sit back on my heels, losing focus.
“You okay?” Adrian strokes the pad of his thumb down my cheek.
“Yeah. Just thirsty.”
And that’s when I know he’s the right guy. Because he puts his erection awayas painful as it must behe shoves it back in his pants and zips upand goes to get me water.
I kick off my shoes and sit cross-legged on his bed where he brings me a filled glass.
“How long will it last?” he asks.
“The ecstasy?” I ask, gulping down the water. “A couple hours. Why?”
He stabs his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m taking advantage. It’s wrong.”
Aw. How sweet. Grumpy bear does have a hero complex. I totally called it. But he’s also dommy. A perfect combination. Except now I’m going to have to talk him into continuing.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like alcohol,” I say. “It’s more like heightened sensations, not lowered inhibitions.”
He glowers at me with brows drawn. Grumpy hero bear.
I’m in love. With him. With this moment. This experience.
He takes the empty glass from my hand and sets it down then squats in front of me, pushing my knees wide. “So how did you want to be put to bed?”
Oh damn. He’s so sexy. Sinfully sexy. He runs his hands up the outsides of my thighs, sliding them under my skirt. His thumbs trace light circles at my inner thighs, close to the edge of my panties.
I open my mouth to say it, but no words come out.
I’m a bold girl. My dad calls me spoiled.
I’m not afraid of much of anything. But this is embarrassing. And I might hate the result.
Adrian stops advancing when I don’t speak, raising his brows in that authoritative manner he has. “Tell me, malysh.”
The word is close enough to the Ukranian that I can guess at its meaningbaby. Not kid this time.
I melt a little. Or maybe those are my panties catching fire.
“W-with a little…spanking?” I have to force the last word across my lips. It’s embarrassing as hell, but he doesn’t laugh.
He also doesn’t seem surprised. “You were a bad girl.”
A laugh bursts out of me, relief and pleasure that he’s running with this. I’m also terrified. I’ve never gotten a guy to give me more than a couple slaps. What if it hurts too much, and I hate it?
He tips his head toward the middle of the bed. “Hands and knees.”
Oh God! Oh goodie! Wait…am I doing this? My heart flops around erratically in my chest.
I’m totally doing this. I crawl onto the comfortable bed on my hands and knees and look over my shoulder at him.
“I’ll go slow. You say stop if you need me to, yes?”
More love pours into my heart. Gratitude. Joy. This guy is so perfect.
“Okay.”
He lifts my short, pleated skirt and lays it on my back. “I like your panties.”
I crane my head to look over my shoulder to see if he’s making fun of me. “They go with the outfit,” I say defensively.
Instead of sexy pantieslace or satin or a minuscule thongI’m wearing chaste white practical panties. Because I’m supposed to be an innocent schoolgirl.
“Oh, I get that.” He gives my ass a smack, and I yelp.
Wow. Ouch. Yep, heightened sensations mean it hurts way more.
He grips the place he smacked and squeezes then releases the flesh and rubs. “It’s cute.” He slaps the back of my thigh, underneath the panties. I yelp even louder.
“Quiet, Kateryna, or I will have to gag you. I don’t want the neighbors hearing.”
“If you gag me, how will you hear me say stop?”
“I wouldn’t. A good reason for you to obey, then, isn’t it?” He smacks my other cheek.
“Ow! Not so hard.”
He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of my panties and tugs them down my thighs.
I stiffen, expecting another smack, but he strokes my ass, trailing his roughened palm lightly across my skin. After a moment, I relax. My skin tingles in the three places he’s slapped me, and it’s starting to heat and burn a little. His light touch only makes me hungry for the harsher treatment again.
He strokes along the inside of one cheek, following it up to the cleft of my ass then sliding down the center between my legs. He gives my pussy a few light slaps. Heat explodes in my core. I suddenly want more. I chase his fingers, pushing my hips back.
He rubs between my legs with bold, firm strokes.
I moan loudly to show my appreciation.
“Quiet, Kateryna.”
I love the way he uses my full name like I’m in trouble. It’s so hot.
He gives my pussy another slap.
This time I make a plaintive sound. I reach between my legs to stroke myself.
“You rub, malysh. I’ll spank.”
“Wait”
He slaps my bare ass, but it’s a good one. Slappy and firm without making me yelp.
“Mmm,” I moan, rubbing the pad of my index finger through my juices. I don’t usually get that wet, but apparently, all I was missing before was a hot dommy man slapping my ass. Everything feels so wet and swollen down there, I don’t even recognize my own anatomy.
True to his word, Adrian goes slowly. He slaps one side, rubs. Slaps the other. Repeats. It’s a perfect pace for my attention-wandering mind and the intensity is just right for my overly sensitive state, too.
Now, if I could just come. I change hands when my arm gets tired of holding me up. Adrian pushes my torso down so my chest is on the bed and my ass still in the air, which is actually easier. The change was needed, too, because I was beginning to space out.
He picks up speed with the spanking. My whole ass is warm now, so the slaps don’t feel so intense when they fall. It all feels wonderful. I love it. But I still can’t seem to make myself come, as much as I want to.
“I’m sorry,” I croak after a few minutes. Or maybe an hour. I don’t knowtime is weird right now. “I can’t come.”
“Maybe you won’t,” Adrian says, like it doesn’t matter. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
He grips my ankle and pulls one leg long and then the other until I’m on my belly. Then he rolls me over and takes my lowered panties off.
I figure he’s going to have sex with me, and I’m getting ready to ask if he has a condom, but instead, he parts my legs and pushes my knees up, settling between them.
“Oh!” I clutch his head when he licks into me, pulling his hair with the glory of it.
He lifts his face. “Quiet.”
“Sorry, sorry!” I whisper-pant. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“You don’t have to come,” he tells me, tracing his tongue around the inside of my labia.
“I will,” I threaten, my inner thighs starting to shake and shiver.
I chase his mouth with my hips, desperate for more. He penetrates me with his tongue, but it’s not enough. I pull his mouth against me, seeking more. He finds the spot that drives me wildis that my clit? How embarrassing that I don’t even know. All I know is that it’s driving me crazy.
Adrian screws one finger inside me, then another. He pumps them in and out while he continues to lick and suck what must be my clit.
I don’t realize I’m crying out until Adrian lifts his head and growls, “Cover your mouth, Kateryna.”
I slap a hand over my mouth as a feverish heat flushes over me. And then I come. It’s momentous. Monumental. Mind-blowing.
By far the best orgasm I’ve ever had. My internal muscles clamp down on his fingers and pulses of energy shoot down my inner thighs, straight to the soles of my feet where my toes curl. My pelvis jumps and shakes and rocks on the bed. Adrian never stops flicking his tongue over my most sensitive nub while he pumps his fingers in and out.
I let out a long low moan as I come down the other side of it, my belly shaking, my knees flapping against Adrian’s shoulders.
“No more,” I whimper because it’s suddenly too much. Terribly intense. I feel like I’m flying and also like I need to cry. Oh waitI am crying.
He stops immediately, slipping his fingers out and stroking my thigh with one of his large hands. “Blyad’. What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I gasp, rolling to my side to hide my face in my hands. Embarrassing!
He clasps my shoulder. His hand is warm and comforting. I like it far too much.
“It’s good. It was so good,” I reassure him.
“This is the molly?”
“Yeah.” I nod and sniff. It’s real. The experience is real, the emotions are real. They’re just heightened. Amplified.
He moves away, which is both relieving and disappointing. I hear the click of something, but I don’t look, I’m too lost in my own world. He brings me another glass of water and puts me under the covers. “Go to sleep now, dietka.”
I’m not sleepy, but I’m completely wrung out, so I take his advice and close my eyes.
I’m totally blissed out. Relaxed.
I let sleep seep in, never guessing that in the morning I would wake tied to the bed with a gag in my mouth.
That standing above me would be the guy I thought was a prince the night before, taking photos of me in a compromised position with his phone.