by Sara Dora
The phone call came at midnight. He had been expecting it, yet was still surprised to hear the appointment confirmed. He had been out of the scene for years - training the last sub hadn't amused him as it used to - he wasn't in love with them - just got a big kick out of being the Dom. The kick wasn't there any more. He was tired of all the rituals, the play parties - always the same, just with different players, and the signals passed back and forth between the Doms, and most of all, he was tired of the preening. He wasn't there to show off - just to enjoy himself, get some sexual satisfaction, and move on.
He was good at what he did, but knew that he wasn't a serious player. He had always been capable of inflicting pain - but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't get off on the kind of bondage and torture and humiliation so many wanted before they could find sexual gratification. It didn't hold any appeal for him. Jonas thought pain should be erotic, a prelude to pleasure, not humiliating, and gradually, he moved away from the lifestyle. He had topped both sexes over the years, but when it came to his own gratification, he couldn't resist a beautiful woman begging him to fuck her.
Roger Cavanaugh got his number from an old friend asking for a favor. The new Dom wanted his new sub to learn a lesson - she was too independent he had said - too sassy - too bossy - she needed to learn who her Master was. He wanted Jonas to teach those lessons to the uppity wench.
"I'm not asking you to become her Master," he told him after Jonas agreed to meet him for a drink. "Just want to loan her to you for a day or two - let her know what it's like to behave properly. I'll bet she'll be more compliant when I get her back. Of course, you can fuck her. She's a beauty - a cocky one, but a beauty. I think you'll enjoy the challenge."
Jonas nodded. He hadn't met the sub he couldn't control and Roger was fairly new to the scene. Maybe he'd do this just to prove he still had it in him and if she really was as beautiful as he said, he might get some pleasure out of it.
"Only one condition," Roger told the big muscular man. "Don't hurt her too badly - don't mark her skin but feel free to make her beg, make her cry, make her ask for forgiveness. She could use a little humility."
"She's all right with this?" he had asked. "She's into the scene and knows you're giving her to me for disciplining?"
"She's my sub," Roger said, his gaze focusing on the drink before him, unable to look Jonas in the eye. "She doesn't have a choice."
Something didn't sit right with Jonas but he let it go for the moment - time enough to turn them down when they showed for the appointment.
He spotted them at the bar, Roger nodding to him as he approached. She was a beauty - a stunning beauty - long dark hair - piercing blue eyes - gorgeous smile - an hourglass figure. Beautiful. Her skin was ivory - it looked like silk - he couldn't wait to see her naked, touch her, stroke her, make her wet. He nodded to Roger as he passed them. The deal was made.
"Where are we?" she asked when Roger escorted her through the door. It looked like the entrance to a private club and she was naturally curious.
"You'll see," he smiled, pulling her down the hall to another door.
She went willingly, unaware of what would happen beyond that door.
"We're here," Roger called out, stepping behind her as they entered a small and empty room. "Enjoy," he said with a cheerful smile and closed the door, leaving her alone.
"Roger," she called, going after him, but the door was locked and she was left alone.
"Roger!" she yelled, banging on the door. "This isn't funny! Open the door! Now!" she demanded.
"It's locked," the deep baritone voice said behind her. "I have the only key."
"What?" she said, whirling around and screaming when she saw him. "Who... who are you?" she backed away, her heart pounding in abject fear at the huge man who had appeared. "What do you want from me? What's going on? Stay away!" she yelled, her back against the wall.
He smiled, his mouth and chin the only parts of his face visible beneath the hood that covered his head and the rest of his facial features.
"Do you always yell when you don't get your way?" he asked softly, staying where he was. "I'll have to teach you better manners."
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Your new Master."
"Oh God," she moaned. "Please let this be a nightmare and let me wake up soon."
"Come here," he ordered, his voice still soft.
"Fuck off!" she said wearily. It was a really bad dream. Perhaps she'd drunk too much. She covered her eyes with her hand.
"Come here," he said again. "Don't make me come and get you."
"You're still here?" she said, amazed he was still standing there when she peeked between her fingers.
Suddenly she was in his arms and he was bending her back until she lost her balance. His hand cupped her chin firmly and he growled low. "Since you're new at this, I'll let this pass. Disobey me again and you'll feel the weight of my hand on your pretty little ass."
"Let me go!"
"Obey me," he snarled and instantly saw her fear. For a brief moment, he wondered if she had really agreed to be disciplined. She didn't act like any sub he had ever met. The new ones always went to their knees at the first order from a Dom, even when they were frightened. Especially if they were frightened. Even the recalcitrant ones tried to bluff their way out of the situation, but quickly kneeled, apologizing profusely before they were punished. But not this one.
She stared at him as if she didn't have a clue as to who or what he was. She's staring at me like I'm crazy. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath was shallow, her eyes wide with fear. He wondered if she'd faint.
"Are you going to kill me?" she faced him with her worst fear. "Are you going to rape me? Beat me? Please... tell me now." He was disconcerted by her attitude but impressed with her defiance and her courage. He would have to punish her for that, but for now, he bent his head and kissed the rapid pulse at her throat. "I'm going to touch you," he murmured, his hot breath on her neck raising the level of her anxiety. "All over-everywhere - and you're going to beg me for more."
"You're insane," she answered back, unaware it was in her best interest to remain silent.
He pulled her into another room, this one furnished with a chair, a large bed, a padded bench and some odd items hanging from the walls and ceiling. He sat on the chair and pulled her between his legs. "Take your dress off," he said quietly, folding his arms across his chest.
She took a step back and looked at him. He was tall. She estimated he was a couple of inches over six feet. His white T-shirt was tightly drawn over massive shoulders and a broad muscular chest. His arms had frightened her with their strength when he had pulled her against him. She could see his thighs were muscular as well, his clinging sweats revealing his rock hard body. In other circumstances, she would have been attracted to him. "You were in the military," she said simply, analyzing what she saw. "Marines or maybe, Special Forces."
"Correct," he confirmed. "Take your dress off."
She studied his head covered by the hood, the eye slits revealing little except that his orbs were brown and filled with a darkness that could be passion or anger. "And you don't like women."
"I adore women," he contradicted her. "Take your dress off. I won't tell you again."
"Fuck you!" She yelled and ran to the other side of the room, her high heel sandals in her hand, wielding them like weapons.
He laughed - a deep throaty laugh that rumbled across the room as he walked over to her. Still laughing, he forced her into the wall, his chest pressing against her breasts, easily removing her shoes. When she gasped for breath, he turned her to face the wall and unzipped her dress, yanking it down and lifting her out of it.
She didn't go willingly. She kicked and screamed and cursed until he squeezed her diaphragm, cutting off her air. She was suddenly limp and compliant when he returned to the chair, holding her on his lap.
She had no reason to expect gentleness, so when his hand cupped the curve of her cheek and his thumb wiped an errant tear from the corner of her eye, she was confused by his action.
"Are you all right?" he asked gently.
She stared at him.
"Answer me," he said, his voice still gentle. "Have I frightened you into silence at last?" this said with a small smile.
She swallowed, licked her lips and looked at him.
"Once more, sugar woman. Are you all right?"
"No," she answered truthfully, her heart pounding. "I won't be all right until you let me go."
"I will let you go," he promised, "when I'm through with you."
"What do you want from me?"
"Your Master gave you to me to discipline. Didn't you believe him when he said he would?"
"My Master? I have no Master," she huffed. "Roger?"
"Yes, Roger," he smiled, indulging her.
"He told you he's my Master? That son-of-a-bitch!" she jumped from his arms and standing in front of him, forgot her fear and shook her finger in his face. "Tonight was our first date! My Master! I'll kill that miserable..."
He grabbed her, pulling her back to his chest and held her there. "Don't speak of him in that tone of voice," he warned. "He did the right thing. You do need to be disciplined. Apologize!" he barked.
"Fuck you!" she shouted, reaching for the soft spots on his collarbones nearest to his neck and pressed hard.
"Shit!" he cursed and released her, the pain brief but excruciating.
Running across the room, she grabbed her dress and fled to the closed door.
She had both hands on the doorknob, pulling and twisting when his chest pushed her flat against the door. Placing one large palm on the wall close to her head, and the other around her breasts, she felt his growl rumble against her neck and spine as it filled her ears. The strength of him against her back frightened her to the point that her body actually shook.
He felt her fear - knew it was genuine - and pulled her back against him, his arms gentling around her. "Stop fighting me," he murmured, thinking again that she didn't behave like any sub he had ever known. "It will go easier for you if you stop fighting. Accept it. It's going to happen no matter what you do."
She seemed to acquiesce - leaned into him and in slow degrees, relaxed her body. His hands went to her shoulders, gently rubbing them as he whispered soothing sounds. "Take your slip off," he said, "and your bra and panties. I want to see you nude."
"My slip?" she said softly as if his voice and gentle hands had hypnotized her into deferential courtesy - obeisance to his will.
"Your slip," he confirmed, pleased at the respectful tone of her voice.
"You're out of your fucking mind!" she screamed, turning and kneeing him in the groin so hard he doubled over in sudden pain. She wasn't through. Her hand came down and savagely chopped the back of his neck and her knee came up and connected with his jaw.
He went down.
She fled from what she had done and grasping the doorknob, finally wrenched it open and flew down the dark hall she had previously entered. She got as far as the main door only to remember it was locked and wouldn't open without a key. She didn't have time to consider another strategy for escape. He was moving toward her - slow and obviously in pain - but methodically putting one foot in front of the other and gaining ground.
When he reached her, she put up a defensive arm to shield her face but he simply picked her up and without a word, tossed her over his shoulder. He returned to the chair and sat, cradling her in his arms. She was limp and sobbing and begged him to end her ordeal.
"Your ordeal hasn't even begun," he told her, keeping his anger in check as the pain in his balls slowly subsided. "I told you to take your slip off. You didn't. I'll do it for you."
With that, he put a large hand into her cleavage and yanked. The silk tore in his hands and before she took her next breath, he had pulled her bra up and over her head, shredding her panties next. He cupped her ass and covered her mouth with his, silencing her shrieks of protest.
You should whip her, his conscience said.
I will.
She has no respect for you.
She'll learn.
She's insolent, arrogant, and far too independent for a sub.
Exactly, he thought, the question nagging him again, wondering if she was telling the truth about Roger.
She knew she was going to black out if he didn't let her up for air, but soon inhaled an enormous breath when his large strong hand connected sharply with her bare ass. The sudden stinging pain startled her - and two large tears actually flew from her wide-open eyes. They landed on his cheek, warm and wet against his skin.
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