Comfort Object (24 page)

I ran one finger down the side of her cheek.

“Then I'll just have to figure you out, won't I? I'm looking forward to it. Come on,” I said. “Let's go get you dressed.”

* * *

In her bedroom, I went through her suitcase until I found the corset I wanted: black matte velvet with ribbons and lace, and tiny, satin-covered buttons up the back. Next I found the back-seamed silk stockings and matching black velvet stilettos. The set had cost me a fortune, but it was worth it. I wanted her to look like my beautiful high-class whore. I beckoned her over from the door and said, “Undress.”

I loved watching her take her clothes off. While she did, I tore my own clothes off, and by the time she was finished, I was already rock hard. I pulled her over by the bed and helped her shimmy the corset over her head. I turned her to tighten the laces and fasten the tiny buttons at the top one by one.

“You're beautiful.” I breathed down her neck as I worked. She shivered. She was so sensitive. I didn't know how she would handle what I had planned.

When the corset was on, I knelt, taking first one foot and then the other in my hands to put on the stockings and smooth them slowly up her legs. I fastened the garters without even looking. Once, those tiny clasps completely befuddled me; now I could work them with my eyes closed and my cock otherwise preoccupied. I stayed still on my knees to survey my handiwork. God, her legs were obscene. She was little, but her legs were perfect, strong, shapely, supple. I kissed the top of one thigh, and she moaned softly.

I pulled myself away from her thighs and picked up the shoes. I slipped them onto her feet, then drew her down and said, “Kneel. Head to the floor. Spread your legs.”

She obeyed perfectly, but of course I put my hands on her anyway, rearranging her just for the sole purpose of feeling her up. “Don't move,” I said. “And don't fucking touch yourself. I'll be right back.”

I went to my bag of tricks and pulled out a few toys and some lubricant, then went back in her room. She was exactly as I'd left her, although I thought she was probably wetter. I knelt beside her.

“You know what I want to do to you tonight, Nell? I want to play with your ass a little. Do you know why?”

It was a rhetorical question, although she humored me with a “no, Jeremy,” mumbled into the carpet.

“Because it's mine now, and I'm going to use it a lot. I'm going to fuck it and play with it and humiliate you by sticking things inside it. Do you like having things in your ass, Nell?” I reached out to caress her bottom cheek. She jumped a little. “Look at me and tell the truth.”

“Yes, Jeremy,” she whispered, peeking over at me. “Most of the time.”

The lovely blush, the trembling, the black velvet against pale skin.

“Most of the time?”

“I haven't had a whole lot of…really large things in my ass,” she said, her gaze dropping momentarily to my large, swollen cock before returning quickly to my face.

“Clients played with your ass at Eden.”

“Yes, but there was a size limit on the toys they could use.”

“What limit?”

“One and one quarter inch in diameter, and five inches long.”

I looked down at my cock. “We're going to need to push that limit a little, I'm afraid.”

It was a joke, but she looked traumatized at the idea of taking my cock. I had absolutely no doubt she could take me just fine. I moved closer and took up the bottle of lube. I squeezed some of the cold liquid onto my fingers.

“You know I won't hurt you, Nell, that's not my kink. Relax. This will all go much easier if you do.”

Intimacy

I breached her, taking my time. I used just one finger at first, then two fingers sliding up inside her until I felt her relax.

“I'm going to put a toy in your ass now, Nell. It's a bit larger than what was allowed at Eden, but not much. It will loosen you up for my cock, which you are going to take tonight.”

She made a small, strangled noise of assent into the floor, but I didn't need her permission. I was already sliding in the little glass toy. I liked glass; it was less forgiving. She took it well, moaning softly but not moving at all.

“Good girl,” I said when it was fully seated. “Now kneel up and suck my cock. Don't even think about coming from that little toy in your ass either. You don't have my permission yet.”

“Yes, Sir.” It was a breach in protocol that I'm sure was caused by the distraction of having her ass firmly plugged. “I'm sorry,” she whispered when she realized her error.

“I'll deal with it later,” I said. “First, attend to my cock.”

She rolled on the condom I handed her, and then took me in her mouth like any good submissive, intent on pleasuring me first and foremost. I let her lick and suck me for a while, just enjoying the warmth of her breath, the ticklish feeling of her tongue tracing over my ridges. This was the Nell I loved, open and eager to please. When I couldn't hold off any longer, I held the back of her head and worked my way into her throat. I advanced, then withdrew, then advanced again, a little deeper each time. I swelled in her mouth, riled up by the sight of her in the beautiful black corset, with the toy in her ass, kneeling on her stocking-covered legs in service to me. She still wasn't skilled at deep throating, but she tried. She didn't pull away.

Eventually her nose was buried in the fur at the base of my cock. She gagged a little, and I released her. Again. I slid into her, and this time she accepted my length. I tapped her chin, and she looked up at me.
Beautiful
. Her eyes were watery, and drool trickled from the sides of her mouth, but she'd never looked more beautiful to me. I withdrew, felt her take in a rush of breath. I felt her gasps tickle down the length of my shaft to graze against my balls. I drew her head back and shoved it down by my sac. She opened and started lapping at my scrotum like a well-trained slut. Her back arched, and she groveled before me. My cock twitched at the sight of the toy in her quivering ass. I pulled her back up by her hair and drove between her lips again. Her soft, hungry moans vibrated against my dick as I sawed in and out. She looked transported just to be sucking me. It was too much. I emptied my load with a groan, buried deep in her throat.

She waited as I rode out my climax. Afterward, I put my hand under her chin. Light pressure drew her attention back to my face. She fell away and gazed up at me, waiting to be told what to do. I threw away the condom and went to pick up my pants and draw the belt from the belt loops, doubling it over. It was a nice, thick, broken-in leather belt, perfect for situations like these. She watched, all too aware of what was coming. I snapped and pointed to the floor, and she lowered her torso into position, her ass facing me, ready to be punished. The small trace of reluctance I saw in her movement made the blood beat in my veins.

Without explanations or a grand lecture, I landed the first blow, aiming purposely for the toy. I made her jump; it pleased me. The nice thing about arrangements like ours was that there didn't have to be a reason for this whimsical disbursement of punishment. It could always be “just because.”

I could be punishing her for slipping up and calling me “Sir,” but I could just as well be punishing her because she was kneeling there vulnerable and weak, or because I liked the way the black belt matched perfectly with her lingerie. Just because. Just because her ass was gorgeous, just because she was still a novice at so many things, just because I knew she struggled to take it. Just because I knew she was mine.

Just because she was mine.

Another blow and she jerked. Her hands flew down by her waist, although she wasn't foolish enough to try to cover herself.

“Over your head,” I said, tapping her with the belt.

She put her fists next to her head and wrapped them in her hair.

Another stroke, and another. Her reactions drove me, her tiny squeaks and jerks. She drew her knees in after a particularly wicked blow.

“Uh-uh. I'll add more.” Slowly she unfolded her body and arched her ass up in the air. “This is the least of what you're going to endure tonight,” I reminded her. I brought the belt down again, this time aiming for the tender skin at the tops of her thighs. Again, and yet again.
Bliss
. The sound of the belt cracking against her spread thighs resonated in my cock.

Again
. Crack! This one caught her just under her left ass cheek. I could tell it was a stinger. Her wail of “noooo” moved me, but not in the way she probably hoped.

By the end I'd marked her pretty badly, just as I'd meant to, just as this entire night would be dedicated to marking her as mine, physically, mentally, sexually, in every way I could. It was high time I did. It would make it easier on her moving forward, although it would be difficult, in the moment, to endure. Soon she wept openly, and her plaintive cries approached a volume that might be heard beyond our walls.

“I'll gag you if you aren't quieter,” I said. “This is only a belt spanking. Should I get a gag?”

“No, please. I'll be quieter. I don't like to be gagged.”

“But you will be, if I want you to be. Now you have five more to go. I expect you to control the volume.”

“Yes, Jeremy.”

She managed to be a lot quieter after that. She moaned and tensed, really struggled to accept the pain, which made it that much more thrilling for me. When I finished and dropped the belt, she went limp. I looked down at her a long minute, at her breathless, prostrated form, her plugged ass, her wet pussy, hungry for me even though her cheeks were bruised and welted from my belt.

“Stand up.” I wanted to watch her, just wanted to sit and enjoy the view some more. “I want you to go and unpack your suitcases. Everything. Find a place for it. Put it all away.”

It wasn't what she'd expected to hear, but it was what I wanted. I wanted to watch her unpack and settle herself into this room where she would stay. Where she would stay with me, in my employment and service.

“Make it good too,” I said. “I want to see that lovely ass every time you bend over.”

She looked back at me, an unfathomable look, and bent from the waist with her legs spread to unzip the first bag.

“Yes.” It was exactly what I'd hoped for. “Good girl.”

She unpacked everything and put it all away. The clothes were hung neatly in the closet, the many sets of lingerie lain carefully and neatly in drawers, the books stacked along the back of the desk. God, there were so many. She bent at the waist again to line up the shoes in the bottom of the closet organized by color. This is what I paid her for. What a fucking pro. She gave it all to me, every intimate view, every part of her that other women hid away.