Pure Paradise (16 page)

Milan tracked BodySlam’s every move on Maxwell Torrance’s high-tech security monitors.

Seemingly jolted by the dizzyingly vast and brilliant skyline, BodySlam unconsciously grasped the edge of the opened elevator to steady himself when the doors slid open on the forty-seventh floor. The unobstructed, sparkling blue sky and puffy white clouds displayed through a clear, massive window were beautiful. Like heaven.

Complementing the magnificent view, a pretty receptionist sat poised behind an elaborate desk with all of heaven serving as a glorious, ethereal backdrop. The receptionist greeted him with a welcoming smile, which gave no hint that she was disturbed by his peculiar attire, his size, or by his bare chest.

“Good afternoon, sir. Mr. Torrance is expecting you. Come with me.” She maintained her perfect smile and led the heavily muscled man down a short corridor lined with plush carpet. With each cushioned step, BodySlam looked increasingly uncomfortable, which greatly pleased Milan.

Totally unaware of the purpose of the strange man’s visit but knowing better than to pry, the young woman tapped politely on an imposing-looking mahogany door and then opened it.

“Mr. Torrance, your visitor is here, sir.”

“Thank you, Karen. Good to see you again, young man. Come in, come in,” Maxwell Torrance offered jovially, as if receiving a visit from an oddly dressed man with bloated biceps was business as usual. Though courteous, Maxwell’s voice rang with the confidence and clarity of a man accustomed to wielding power.

Milan watched from an adjacent room as BodySlam’s eyes panned Maxwell’s office suite. From Maxwell’s desk, there was yet another view of the sweeping skyline. The posh interior, elegant furnishings, and of course, the skyline, created a monument to the man’s success. BodySlam appeared both awed and disturbed. And bitter. Milan could tell that he resented Maxwell’s privileged circumstances. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hold back. She wanted him to dispense unmerciful punishment on her unruly slave.

Maxwell sat behind a colossal corporate desk. Neat piles of work were stacked on one side. Glimmering picture frames, pens, and snazzy gadgets were strategically arranged on top of the desk.

The receptionist left, closing the door behind her. With an impatient hand wave, Maxwell Torrance motioned for BodySlam’s to take the seat opposite him.

BodySlam approached, slowly, hesitantly. He was obviously out of his depth. Noting his discomfort, Maxwell Torrance’s eyes twinkled with amused interest, as if he were a benevolent king granting a commoner a bit of his time.

Milan had seen enough. She felt personally insulted by Maxwell’s smug attitude. She stormed out of the adjacent room. “Cut the crap, Maxwell.”

Thinking he and the mogul were alone, BodySlam whipped around, surprised by Milan’s presence. She wore a black corset, a lacey black thong, and thigh-high boots with stiletto heels, and she wielded a whip as she stalked across the room.

“Get up!” Milan barked at Maxwell. “How dare you sit behind that desk, pretending as though you have balls,” she said scornfully. “Do you have balls, Maxwell?” she demanded.

Fear replaced the arrogant twinkle in the business tycoon’s eyes. He sprang up from his seat and scuttled around the desk. Maxwell had on a shirt, tie, and suit jacket, but he was nude from the waist down. BodySlam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Maxwell’s appendage, shrunken with fear, was barely visible. “No, mistress. I don’t have any balls,” he admitted.

Dropping to his knees, head lowered in shame, his pale exposed buttocks poking upward, he crawled to Milan and kissed the toe of her shiny black boot.

She cut a glance at BodySlam, her former adversary, and gave him a triumphant smile. Then she swept her gaze toward Maxwell’s genitals and down his bare legs. “As you can see, I had my property prepare himself for your special brand of punishment.” She emphasized the words
my property
, hoping to raise BodySlam’s ire. He had, after all, co-owned Maxwell briefly, and she felt certain that he deeply regretted losing the masochistic billionaire.

“Get over here,” she hissed, looking down at her boots. Maxwell scrambled over and kneeled. His naked ass was several shades lighter than his face. She glared disdainfully down at her chattel who now kneeled at her feet. “He’s my property,” she repeated tauntingly. “Worthless property, I might add. But I own him, nevertheless.”

BodySlam shifted his eyes menacingly from Milan and down to the groveling executive, looking as if he’d like nothing better than to wring both their necks.

She watched BodySlam process the situation and then set his hateful eyes on Maxwell.
Wise choice
.

“Tell BodySlam why his presence is requested today,” Milan ordered.

“Mr. BodySlam,” Maxwell Torrance said, his tone now soft and meek. “Sadly, I can no longer satisfy my cherished mistress.”

“Because…” she prodded.

His face went red and he dropped his head in shame. “Because I’m ill-equipped to satisfy my dear mistress.”

“Ill-equipped?” Milan scoffed. “Explain your problem in simple words.”

“My penis is inadequate,” he uttered, his voice filled with angst.

BodySlam grunted in disgust and scowled at the shuddering billionaire.

Milan shared BodySlam’s revulsion and sucked her teeth. “There’s another thing—”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I expect you to refer to our visitor as
sir
. Got that!” She gave Maxwell’s head a disdainful smack. “Now, be more specific about your pathetic penis problem.”

“Yes, of course, Mistress.” The CEO crouched down in a position of worship at Milan’s feet, lifted his head, and shifted his gaze upward toward BodySlam. “Mr. BodySlam, sir…my cock is very short and thin, sir. It’s miniscule, sir, and it’s too small to satisfy my mistress.”

“My clit is bigger than his dick,” Milan mocked.

BodySlam laughed but the sound held no joy. Then his face
hardened. He seemed to growl as he incredulously bared his teeth, exhibiting frothy anger and deep loathing toward the despicable billionaire.

BodySlam’s ferocious anger had Maxwell shaking and he was beginning to scare Milan as well. Maybe she should get out of the way and let the sadist take out his disdain on Maxwell, who wanted and deserved the highest form of punishment.

But she stood in position, refusing to show fear. Focusing on Maxwell, she spat, “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being. Our visitor is repulsed and it’s your fault.” She swatted his pale rump. Then she raised the whip. She would have preferred disciplining Maxwell with a paddle, but being that he was prone to run away, she was given no choice but to toughen up and give him the excruciating pain he yearned for. Grimacing, she delivered a disgusting succession of whip lashes. She involuntarily flinched with the landing of each hot whip lash. Maxwell’s closed mouth muffled his moans of erotic distress. Eew!

As she whipped Maxwell, she noticed a protrusion in the front of BodySlam’s tight leather pants. Who would have thought that such a posh domain would contain such depravity in such a lofty office in the midst of the workday? Red marks appeared on Maxwell’s backside, but Milan was quickly growing tired. She’d worked herself into a sweat, and BodySlam’s hand worked itself down to his groin. His fingers brushed his stiffening manhood that pushed against his leather crotch. He began rubbing circularly. His dick, bulging against the zipper of his pants, demanded freedom from the leather confines.

Finally exhausted, Milan dropped the whip and kicked Maxwell as hard as she could. “Prepare our guest!”

Maxwell crawled over to BodySlam, and then rose to his knees. He unsnapped and unzipped the tented area of BodySlam’s pants.

Approvingly, BodySlam petted Maxwell’s narrow shoulders as the CEO devoured the Haitian’s impossibly long phallus. Maxwell’s body shivered at BodySlam’s touch. Seeking more approval, he sucked and slurped loudly, striving to give good head.

A feeling of warmth seeped through Milan as she witnessed Maxwell sucking a man’s dick. She thought it a disgusting freak show, but her wet pussy apparently didn’t agree with her. Maxwell gave surprisingly good fellatio, pulling the huge dick in and out of his mouth with ease.

Suddenly dissatisfied with Maxwell’s performance, or perhaps annoyed that Maxwell was enjoying himself too much, BodySlam grabbed the back of Maxwell’s head and plunged his engorged manhood deeply, gagging and choking Maxwell with his iron-hard erection.

It appeared to Milan that BodySlam was seeking a quick release, but she had another idea.

She popped Maxwell upside his head. “That’s enough, cocksucker.”

Obeying his mistress, Maxwell gleefully pulled back, releasing BodySlam’s throbbing penis, allowing it to pop out of his warm mouth. BodySlam winced in discomfort as his cock was abandoned and exposed to the chilled, air-conditioned air.

Milan smiled at BodySlam. “He’s all yours. Do with him as you please.” She crossed the room and sat behind Maxwell’s desk. She observed the walls, which were adorned with plaques and other framed tributes to Maxwell Torrance’s accomplishment and let out a burst of mocking laughter.

Maxwell’s neck drooped, causing his head to hang so low, he
seemed to burrow his forehead into the thick carpet. With his eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for the kind of flogging that could possibly leave him maimed. BodySlam was a ferocious master, and had been jilted by Maxwell. His anger was thick and palpable. It filled the air. Maxwell trembled in fear and excitement.

BodySlam paced menacingly, muttering in an island patois that was sensual but also invoked fear. He glowered at the tycoon with every rambling word.

Milan sat on the edge of her seat, excitedly watching the scene unfold. Soon, Maxwell would be emasculated and she planned to savor every second of her sex slave’s agony and extreme distress. She took such pleasure in being a voyeur rather than a participant in this type of sex play.

As if weary, BodySlam plopped down on a very expensive Edwardian settee made of fine French silk. With his chained vest, leather pants, and worn boots, BodySlam looked completely out of place. The delicate piece of antique furniture was no doubt intended as decoration and not to be sat upon.

Relaxing further, BodySlam propped his boots heavily upon Maxwell’s rear end, deliberately inflicting more pain on an area that was bruised and quite sore from Milan’s flogging. Maxwell made the dreadful mistake of letting out a pitiful sound. In one swift movement, BodySlam lifted Maxwell up and cruelly threw him over his lap. Scolding Maxwell in a rush of words that were issued in a heated Haitian dialect, BodySlam raised his large hand and gave Maxwell a sound spanking. Maxwell’s whimpering lament incensed BodySlam, provoking him to greater heights of fury. He flayed Maxwell’s buttocks until they bore a tapestry of red-shaded handprints. Maxwell writhed and groaned painfully.

B
odySlam examined the pattern of handprints on Maxwell’s naked ass. He stared with intensity as if looking for an unblemished area to brand with his trademark. Maxwell wriggled uncomfortably. Infuriated by the twisting, moaning captive, Bodyslam sadistically brought his hand down firmly and began to apply harder, thunderous slaps. He furtively slipped his arm beneath the tycoon and viciously imprisoned Maxwell’s tiny cock and scrotum inside his monstrously large, ball-crushing bare hand.

Maxwell howled. BodySlam knocked him off his lap and worked the unzipped leather pants off his hips. He pulled Maxwell by his hair and pressed his face against his groin. He smiled with wicked satisfaction as his organ lengthened and hardened. He used his big dick as a smacking device against Maxwell’s miserable face. Finally, he brushed the swollen tip alongside the CEO’s quivering lips.

He silenced Maxwell’s whimpering with his sturdy cock, switching its usage from a face smacker to an extra-large and extremely hard pacifier. Maxwell wrapped his thin lips around BodySlam’s girth and sucked, bobbing his head up and down, obviously preferring dick sucking to having his ass whipped.

“Harder!” Milan shouted from across the room. “Shove it down his throat.” She didn’t like the idea of Maxwell enjoying his assignment.

Refusing to take orders, BodySlam ignored Milan. Swiftly, he unbuckled his boots, kicked them off, and removed his leather pants. His hard-muscled ass and soaring appendage made Milan’s mouth water. BodySlam was ripped like an ebony god. With the skill of a trained wrestler, he flipped Maxwell across the room. While Maxwell lay on his back panting, BodySlam stalked over and pounced. He lifted Maxwell’s legs up and held them open, the way a man would prepare to fuck a woman. Though his cock was moist from Maxwell’s mouth, he spit in his hand and slathered his dick with saliva then rubbed his glans against Maxwell’s puckered asshole. He slowly penetrated his anus, hurting Maxwell with his bulging sex organ.

It was a fascinating sight. Milan’s mouth fell open. She’d never seen anything like this. Maxwell moaned and she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of pain or passion. Her eyes were glued to BodySlam’s high, well-formed ass as it undulated in the act of giving Maxwell a tender and sensual fuck.

Then he quickened his pace, behaving sadistically, plunging now instead of gently gliding. The sound of pounding flesh echoed inside the room as he shoved his dick in to the hilt.

BodySlam bit down on his lip. Perspiring, he appeared to struggle to control the pressure rushing through his veins. He began to make sounds…words. “You got good pussy, my man. It’s hot like an oven. You’re nice and tight. But you already know that, eh?”

Maxwell murmured affirmatively. He seemed to enjoy having his ass penetrated much more than getting it smacked.

Milan was shocked! The tangle of hairs at the mouth of her own pussy moistened. Astonishingly, she was aroused by the sight of two men fucking.

“Ah, yes.” BodySlam groaned as he worked his hips, perspiring profusely, totally into it. “Do you like me? Eh? Do I fuck you good?”

Maxwell cleared his throat and murmured softly.

Milan felt her vagina tense. Watching BodySlam’s dick and balls bounce while he rammed Maxwell up the ass was another unexpected and powerful turn-on.

“Talk dirty to me, man. Tell me how good I’m fucking your tight cunt.”

Maxwell wrapped his arms and legs around BodySlam and clung to him as he got served, murmuring sweet words in his ears.

Her patience was near to breaking. It was time to end the party. She made an impatient sound and then clapped her hands, making a scolding gesture that indicated she wanted them to stop copulating. But BodySlam and Maxell ignored her and kept at it. The sound of men moaning in sexual rapture was disturbing and titillating.

BodySlam was no wimp and she doubted she could control his wanton behavior. Milan sighed. She caressed her wet sex.
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em
. She pulled Maxwell’s arms from around BodySlam and pushed his head to the floor.

“Suck my pussy, you cheating bastard,” she hissed, straddling his head and squatting down. Her parted pussy hovered over his face, and then she lowered herself until her buttocks rested on his cheeks.

Maxwell didn’t disappoint. He stretched his tongue to capacity
and lapped inside Milan’s cunt. Skillful at serving two masters, Maxwell’s exploring tongue had Milan’s body rocking.

“Give me that good pussy,” BodySlam commanded Maxwell. Maxwell obeyed, thrusting his ass as quickly as he stroked Milan’s cunt with his tongue. Maxwell’s mouth became an aggressive sex provider. His lips sucked urgently, his tongue licking roughly as it sought to provide Milan with pleasure.

Feeling competitive, BodySlam yanked Maxwell closer, pushing his cock more deeply into Maxwell’s ass as if to nourish him. “My man,” he whispered. “You’d make a good woman for a wild man like me. Do you like the way I fuck you?”

Maxwell licked Milan’s pussy with desperation while his lower body undulated, silently screaming a reply.

“Ah. So, you like the idea of giving yourself to me. That sounds good, man.” BodySlam pumped dick as he spoke, his tone soft and mesmerizing.

Milan didn’t hear Maxwell say anything. So why was BodySlam claiming victory? Had she known this sadistic bastard would once again try to steal her chattel, she never would have hired him to help her give Maxwell the severe punishment she was unable to dispense. She moisturized Maxwell’s lips with her juices, claiming her property and marking her territory.

“I’ve lost my woman, Veronique. You know that already, eh?”

Maxwell muttered something. BodySlam was taking it to another level and Milan didn’t like it. She stopped moving, ready to physically fight the muscled sadist if she had to.

“That’s it. Get out,” Milan ordered BodySlam. He paid her no mind.

Working Maxwell to a crescendo, he asked, “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I can slap you, beat you, and fuck you all
night long?” BodySlam spoke in a low, lilting tone, hypnotizing Maxwell with the erotic sound of his voice.

Maxwell responded with a harsh moan. His rush of excited breath, though disturbing, aroused Milan, who was still perched on his face.

Unable to control herself, she rocked against his tongue. Her fingernails scraped at the wall as she tried to give his tongue as rough a ride as BodySlam was giving his ass.

But she couldn’t compete. Nothing could have prepared her for the way Maxwell was eating her pussy. He sent a shocking sensation through her when his tongue journeyed to her clit and slathered it, causing her to shudder and hasten her rhythm. Holding back her orgasm was torture. It was a worse sexual agony than she’d ever experienced. Milan felt a spasm in her stomach. She moaned loudly and squirted a premature shot of sticky cum. Maxwell’s open mouth received it, slurping, sucking, trying to drain her.

At that moment of Milan’s paralyzing orgasm, BodySlam asked again in a voice that was as soft as a caress, “Maxwell, my good man…my pretty woman, do you want to be with me?”

She couldn’t believe it when she felt Maxwell’s lips moving and his voice vibrating into her quivering pussy, speaking words of agreement. “Yes! Oh, yes. I do!”

Fucking faggot-ass bastard!