Comfort Object (20 page)

“I'm not your fucking master,” he snapped, tilting my head back so I could see his terrible, angry face. “I don't want you worshipping my feet. I want you fucking obeying my orders, you slut! It's not that hard!”

I swiped at my tears and drew a deep breath. “Please forgive me, Jeremy. It was just because—”

“Just because doesn't work for me, girl! There's no 'just because,' not ever. I make rules, you obey. If that's too difficult for you, I can have you on a fucking plane back to Buona Italia within the hour! Is that what you want?”

I shook my head. “No, Jeremy!”

“Because I get enough fucking irritation and disappointment from everyone else, without worrying about my goddamn disobedient sub!” His anger was awful. The veins in his neck stood out as he waved his arms around.

“I'll never do anything like that again. I promise!”

“You promise.” He blew out his breath. “Well, that means a lot to me.”

His words hurt, but I understood the fury behind them. Things had been going well. We had seemed to find a connection. In a way, we'd come to develop a trust. I trusted him to be safe with me. He trusted me to obey. As it turned out, only one of us held up our end of the deal.

“I want to punish you,” he said, turning back to me. “I want to beat the shit out of you right now, but it's not safe. I'll punish you tomorrow when I'm calmer. In the meantime, you think about this, you little fuck. You signed a contract in which you agreed that
I
would control your orgasms. Me, Jeremy Gray. Not you. If you want to have a fucking orgasm, then the most you can do is hope and pray I'll give it to you soon. You're certainly
never
to reach between your own dirty legs and give it to yourself when you're on orders to wait for me.”

“No, Jeremy.”

“I know you're not an idiot. I know you understood those instructions, although I'm starting to sense you're not as submissive as you pretend to be. This is not good enough! Out!”

I ran to my room. “
Not good enough
!” I felt a shuddery tightness in my chest. What if he sent me home? I wanted to go to his room and beg for forgiveness, but I didn't dare. All I could do was wait for his anger to dissipate, and then let him know that I really was sorry. That I really would never do it again.

I finally crawled into bed, too scared of running into him in the bathroom to brush my teeth. I looked at my luggage in the corner, still completely packed except for the one bag I'd pulled my pajamas and toiletries from. I didn't want to think anymore. I just wanted to sleep, to dream.

But I was wide awake. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't do anything to distract myself from the distress I felt.

I finally crept to the suitcase that held my books and took out some Babylonian mythology that always made me feel terribly sad. I read it into the wee hours of the night, crying ashamed, bitter tears.

* * *

I was woken up in the early morning by Jeremy lifting the book out of my hand.

“Nell, wake up,” he said. He was fully dressed, and Kyle was standing behind him looking tired and irate.

I sat up and clutched the covers in my hands. “Are you sending me home?”

He snorted. “You wish. If I sent you home every time you disobeyed an order, I have a feeling I'd be spending a lot of money on airfare flying you back and forth. But you're going to be punished, and by the end of it, you'll probably wish I'd sent you home.”

I was to learn, quite quickly, that Jeremy Gray was as erotically sinister at creating punishments as he was erotically talented at making love. I was permitted to shower, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, and then I was stripped and cuffed to the bed with my legs spread wide and my arms over my head. Bondage usually turned me on, and I felt a minor note of arousal, but the greater feeling was guilt. Oh, and subtle shades of humiliation. Kyle was staring openly at my snatch as Jeremy fixed me to the bedposts. I tried to pull my legs together, even though I knew I couldn't. “Comfortable?” asked Jeremy, standing back. I pulled at the bonds. They had a little give but not much. “Be honest, because you're going to be there a long time.”

“I'm fine, I guess.” I tested the bonds again, shifting and pulling. Jeremy looked at his watch and back at me.

“Fuck.” He started to unbuckle his pants. “Bring me a fucking condom,” he snapped at Kyle. “Get one too if you want her.”

Kyle went in the bathroom and returned with a condom. He handed it to Jeremy, and yes, he made no effort to hide the other one in his hand.

“You're going to fucking make me late for work,” Jeremy muttered as he thrust inside me with no preliminaries. He fucked me like a toy, like an object, but I deserved it, and it didn't turn me on. No, this fucking was punishment. It was meant to put me in my place. Well, that was our agreement. If I messed up, he punished me. His ramming thrusts were methodical, and I shut off halfway through. It was a skill I'd developed at Eden, a way to live through the scenes I really didn't enjoy. Some Doms took umbrage and didn't allow it. Jeremy just finished up in me with a grunt.

Kyle went next. He wasn't rough like Jeremy. He wasn't angry. He was just fucking me for fun. I looked away and ruminated some more on whether he was secretly doing Jeremy. Jeremy was certainly watching Kyle with an intent expression on his face. Kyle took his time, even played with my tits a little. If my hands were free, I would have swatted his fingers away, because I didn't want to enjoy this. I just wanted it to be done.

When he finished and while he dressed, Jeremy left the room and returned with some nipple clamps, which he wordlessly applied to my tits. God, they were vicious ones. The little metal teeth dug into my tender nipples and spurred a hot ache. He applied them nearer the edge to increase the intensity. I took deep breaths and gazed at him through the pain.

“I'm really sorry, Jeremy.”

“I'm sure you are. But since you want to come so badly, then your punishment today is going to be to come, over and over. I'm a great believer in making the punishment fit the crime.”

I blinked. Orgasm didn't sound much like punishment, but I didn't dare tell him that.

“Are you a righty or a lefty?” he asked. “When you masturbate?”

“I'm sort of ambidextrous,” I whispered. I didn't mean it disrespectfully, but he frowned and yanked at one of the clips.

“Right or left hand?”

“Right,” I said.

He released my right hand. “Masturbate. Make yourself come. Do it now.”

I looked at him, then at Kyle. It was so humiliating. You're a submissive; you're being paid for this, I reminded myself. It's just a job. But was it just a job? Why did Jeremy's displeasure make me feel so horrible inside?

He looked at his watch impatiently. “If you make me any later, so help me…”

I reached between my legs and found my clit and started to rub it. It was pretty wet. I couldn't take clamps, even in punishment, without practically squirting on myself. I closed my eyes and let my fingers slide over the slick little nub. I had masturbated in front of countless clients at Eden. It wasn't the act that would challenge me. It was getting to a point where I could actually come, especially with the nipple clamps throbbing, and Jeremy staring at me from a few feet away. I tried to call up some hot fantasy material.

Mmmm, some gear…a black collar. A thick leather leash. Jeremy's hand yanking me, pulling me down to his cock. I open wide and suck it, desperate to please him. His hand tightens on the leash as his excitement grows. With a groan, he pulls out and splooges all over my face. I look up, wide-eyed, at my demanding master. He nods, sliding his cock across my cheek…

That did it. Pushed me right over the edge. It wasn't a great orgasm, but it was an orgasm. I didn't cheat. The pleasure spread outward and then dissipated quickly. My breath slowed, and my body relaxed. The moment the glow faded, I wanted the nipple clamps
off
. I looked up at Jeremy and waited for him to release me. But he only stared down and said, “Again.”

Holy shit.

I made a mild sound of protest. It was ignored. Okay. More fantasy material. I reached between my legs. My clit felt numb, but I manipulated it anyway, tried to draw some pussy juice up over it to make it slick.

Rope. Scratchy and coarse. It's wrapped tightly around my breasts so they jut out before me, pointed and taut. The rope is circled around my waist, then down through my legs, up between my ass cheeks. It's cinched hard so I'm pulled and spread wide open. Jeremy takes a shorter length of rope. He wraps it around the front of the makeshift harness, then ties it in a knot. He pushes it down until it rests on my clitoris. He turns me over. The rope knot rubs against my aching center, and I grind down upon the bed. “No! You may not come!” He slaps my spread ass cheeks. I feel cold lube, and a massive butt plug is driven home. My anus clenches on the toy. My pussy longs to rub against the knot. He flips me over, ties my wrists and ankles to the bed. He lifts my chin and speaks to me. “You will be kept like this at all times when I'm not making use of you, girl. You will only be permitted one orgasm a month. If you deserve it.” I begin to cry…

I bucked against my fingers. The rope-knot fantasy got me every time. I jerked myself off faster and faster.
Don't think of them watching you. Rope knot. Rope knot!
Ahh, there we go. The second orgasm wasn't even as strong as the first one.
If you want to come so badly, Nell
. My tits ached. He just had to release me now.

Jeremy prompted, “Again. Once more.” I let out my breath in indignation, but it made no matter. I was at his command.

Again, again, again, again, yes, whatever you say.

I searched my mind for some really nasty fantasies, fantasies nasty enough to get me going when all I really wanted to do was die.

A camping trip. Jeremy wakes me in the dead of the night. The air is heavy with electricity, a gathering storm. I am frog-marched out into deep black woods and pushed against a tree. “Please, what have I done?” He pays no mind. Rope is wound around my torso to bind me. Around my shoulders, my waist, and the tops of my thighs, so I'm unable to move even an inch. He moves away, and I hear rustling. He returns and starts to spank me, excruciating sting and fire. A switch! I cry, I beg for help, but we're alone. I realize I can't escape the lash. I press my clit to the rough bark of the tree to somehow soothe myself. “No,” says Jeremy. The storm finally breaks, flashing lightning and pelting rain. He cuts the ropes and catches my limp body in his arms. He carries me to the tent and lies me on the ground facedown. He traces his tongue over my welted flesh as thunder makes the ground shake under me. He takes out his cock and spreads my ass cheeks roughly, forces it home—