The Dom With the Perfect Brats (34 page)

“Are you going to make me come?”

“Eventually, if you’re a good girl.”

Her expression shifted from teasing to aroused. “I hate it when you say that.”

Cross buried his face in her hair and put his mouth to her ear. “Why, Gemma? Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

She whimpered and squeezed her thighs together. “Not fair.”

“Come, little one.” He snapped his fingers and Izzy was at his side in an instant. “Do you want to help me?”

She nodded, not chancing another word he hadn’t condoned.

“Then whenever I stop, you touch her. Understand the game? Don’t let her come unless I give you permission or you’ll be punished.”

Izzy ducked her head in assent and stood back. Cross stripped off his shirt and chose a length of rope off of the bed.

Both Gemma and Izzy were watching him intently. He thought they were curious about what he was doing until he realized they were checking him out.

“My eyes are up here, ladies.” He gestured to his face, his expression schooled into feigned offense.

“You’re good to look at, so sue us,” Gemma retorted.

“Sassiness from the piñata isn’t recommended.” He trailed the rope over her skin. Gemma’s breathing changed again. Her nipples hardened, either from the sensation or anticipation. At his beckoning, Izzy moved closer, scratching her nails gently over her girlfriend’s body. The girls kissed
. Their breasts brushed against each other. It was enough to drive any straight man to distraction.

By the time he pulled Izzy away, both girls were breathing hard. “Stay on the bed so you’re out of range, Isadora. I don’t want to accidentally catch you with a backswing.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” She hopped up on the bed.

“You may touch yourself, if you want to.”

“Thank you, Sir. Am I allowed to come?”

“Only if you do it loudly. Impress me.”
He winked at her.

She reddened. “Yes, Sir.”

Cross snapped the rope at Gemma’s back and ass a few times, making her squeak and squeal, before switching to a whisking pattern. For a few minutes, the silence was only broken by the rope and the sounds of Izzy’s pleasure. But soon a low moan escaped Gemma too. He whisked over her back, ass, the back of her legs, before moving to her belly, thighs and then her breasts. When she was nice and pink, he stopped. After tossing the rope back on the bed, he chose a few non-marking clothespins.

She eyed them with trepidation. “I don’t think I’m going to like those.”

“I don’t think I care.” He smirked and her eyes narrowed. “Here, little one. You torture that pretty nipple while I work on this one. Izzy? Isadora!”

Pleasure interrupted. Izzy frowned at him. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

She growled in frustration and stomped over to him. He gave her ass a hard swat and she yelped.

“Enough with the attitude, brat.”

He grabbed her by the back of the hair and steered her mouth to Gemma’s nipple. “Do it.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered as her lips bumped Gemma. Her tongue flicked at Gemma’s nipple then she bit and latched on. Cross took over on the other side and soon their poor victim was trying to grind her hips against them – a silent plea for relief.

Cross stopped sucking then pinched at her nipple, making sure it was good and tight before he slid the clothespin onto it, sideways. Gemma looked down at what he was doing, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She looked worried. Slowly, he released the pressure on the clothespin handles, allowing it to clamp shut.

Gemma mewled, and closed her eyes. He let Izzy keep sucking and nipping. The contrast between her two nipples was probably more of a mind fuck than clamping her other nipple right away. After a minute or two, he asked Izzy to stop, and he attached the second clothespin.

Sweat glistened on her skin.
She was breathing hard, but didn’t complain or safeword. He placed more on the soft skin of her breasts, her belly, and her pussy lips. Heat rose off of her.

Cross picked up the
leather flogger and thwapped it against her back and thighs, allowing strands to lick around her sides. He alternated between using the whole flogger and whipping her with a few of the falls. She gasped, moaned, mewled, leaned into it, tried to avoid it, danced on his rope.

Crop next. He tapped her with it a few times then gradually built up force. He set a rhythm where he’d hit, then g
ave her a moment to process, but once in awhile he’d hit her twice in quick succession to keep her guessing. He used the shaft when she got too complacent. Welts criss-crossed her reddened skin. She writhed for him, her body gleaming with perspiration. Like music for his eyes.

Eventually, h
e threw the crop back on the bed. While Cross sorted through implements, he also watched as Izzy nuzzled the smooth skin of Gemma’s stomach, then let her lips drift downward. Despite the fact that she hadn’t opened her eyes, Gemma cooperatively tilted her hips. Izzy’s tongue played with her, teased her, and slid between her labia. Her victim writhed, trying to position herself to have her clit connect with Izzy’s darting tongue. She slid her fingers along Gemma’s slit then pushed one inside, making the captive gasp. She sucked at her clit and Gemma keened and hung from the cuffs.

Cross watched avidly for awhile, then with much regret, ordered Izzy to stop. This time when she ignored his command, he grabbed her by the hair
and pulled her away. He marched her over to the bed and put her back in punishment position.

“No, no! Sir, I’m sorry,” she begged.

“If you had listened, you wouldn’t be sorry,” he growled.

He leaned over her back and picked up the switch.

“Please not the switch!”

“Kiss it then ask for it.” He slid the stick under her nose.

“Fuck! I hate that thing.”

“Are you safewording, or are you going to take your punishment? If you safeword this you won’t like the alternative. I have a pretty new butt plug with your name on it.”

Her expression was a combination of nervous, mortified, and curious. Which would she choose?

“Or you can sit in the living room until we’re done.” He walked over to the drawer and took out the beginner plug
then threw it down on the bed in front of her so that she’d know exactly what her options were. “Think about it and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Gemma had cooled off a little, so he started again with the flogger. It didn’t take long to get her back up to where she’d been, except thanks to Izzy’s earlier attention she was moaning. He removed the clothespins from her nipples and she swore
. As he plucked the rest free, she hissed and grunted.

“Please fuck me, Sir,” she begged. “Please.”

“Soon,” Cross crooned to her. “But not yet. I’m not done beating you.”

“Nooo!”

“No isn’t your safeword, girl. Do you want me to stop?”

She started to sob. “No, Sir. Please don’t stop.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to hurt me.”

Cross shuddered. His heart pounded harder. He grabbed the whippy cane and closed his eyes, feeling the weapon like an extension of his hand. It wasn’t often he’d dated a masochist, but it excited him more than he like to admit. The throbbing pain in his groin was almost unbearable.

He tapped her a few times, getting his baseline for how whippy this new one was, and tested his calibration.

She yowled in frustration and swiveled her head to glare at him. Her expression was fierce. “Are you going to fucking hit me, or do I have to find a
man
to do it?”

His chuckle was low and dangerous, but her sneer upheld her challenge.

The stick whistled through the air, maybe harder than he intended. The soft
thwack
of the narrow cane against Gemma’s ass was such an anticlimactic sound, as he knew it would be. She screamed. Her legs gave out so that she hung from her wrists. Sobbing, she found her footing and braced herself.

“Again?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.” Her voice broke.

So he was Sir again?

Slowly, he administered three more blows, waiting a minute in between. She screamed after each, but after the third she hung from her wrists and stayed down. Adrenaline pumped through him, his ears still ringing with her screams. Her suffering was beautiful. The welts had risen on her skin immediately, two were already bruising.

He moved to where he could see her face. Eyes glazed, mouth slack. She wasn’t with him right then. Cross spread her legs and brought the cane down on the inside of her thigh. Again. Again. There w
ere no more screams, just low moans of pleasure punctuated by sobs. He did the other thigh, then the outside of both legs. Tears rolled down her cheeks from unseeing eyes. Lighter, he tapped her pussy.

Gemma’s body seized up then convulsed
, coming. Fuck. He hit her again and she was screaming, howling, filling the air with blistering white noise. He stripped off his jeans, his cock straining for her. Somehow he remembered to roll on a condom then he was thrusting up inside her, digging his thumbs into the fresh bruises on her thighs. The orgasm spiked again, and he held her as it wracked her body. He fucked her hard. Her body clamped down around him, holding him captive. Although he was unwilling to be done so soon, her body forced his orgasm anyway. He swore, helpless, coming.

He
pulled out, staggered and shook his muzzy head. He felt like he’d been drugged. Quickly, he unbuckled the cuffs from Gemma’s wrists and carried her to the bed. He bundled her into a blanket then coaxed Izzy up from where she still waited obediently, to help hold her. They crowded her, stroking her skin and talking quietly.

“What the fuck?” She mumbled sleepily. “That was awesome. I don’t even know what happened
.”

Cross kissed her face, her eyelids. “You subspaced really hard, Gemma. You didn’t just visit, you pillaged the countryside.” He chuckled gently. “Are you okay? I was worried I overdid it. You already have bruises, but you seemed to like it so I kept going.”

“Bruises? You marked me?”

Shit. Had he just fucked things up? “Yes. I caned you a little harder than I meant to at first, but you responded well, so I kept going. You’re okay?”

Gemma sat up and fought the blankets.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down, girl. What do you want? We
’ll get it for you.”

“I want to see!”

“Shh. Okay. The ones on the inside of your thighs will be easiest.” He carefully unwrapped her and she peered down at her leg as though it wasn’t attached.

She traced a finger over the six welts on the inside of her thighs and prodded at the bruises, wincing. “You marked me.”

“If it bothers you I won’t do it again. They’ll fade in a few days.”

“Will they?” She frowned. “Do it harder next time.”

“You like it?” Izzy asked, incredulous.

“He gave me stripes – some are even over my tattoos
. Look! I wish I could tattoo them on.” She fell onto her back then hissed, grinning. “Ow! I want to look at my back later. I’m tired, but so hyper. Is this normal?”

“It can be
.” Cross smiled, wrapping her back up in the blanket. “You need to stay warm.”

“Yes, Sir.” She snuggled into him
, rubbing her face against his chest. He felt blissful, other than the forgotten condom that was hanging on in uncomfortable desperation.

A few minutes later Gemma had calmed down and was looking very mellow. “
I love you, Sir. I really do.” Her fingers clung weakly to his hand. “Sleepy.”

“Go to sleep if you want. We’re here.”

Izzy crowded closer on her other side.

“No. Go see to
Izzy. She’s still waiting. The poor thing is too patient and polite compared to me.”

“No, no,” Izzy reassured her. “There’s no hurry. I’m fine.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to have to choose your punishment.” Gemma snorted. Her eyes were closed, and if she wasn’t speaking, Cross would have assumed she was asleep. “Choose the beating. It’s so relaxing.”

“I don’t like pain like you do, Gemma.”

“Well then let him try the plug. You’ve been flirting with the idea for weeks. Why not just let him do it?”

A
long silence passed while Cross got to watch Isadora’s face turn a series of entertaining colors. “I don’t want him to.”

“Yes you do.”

“Shut up!” Izzy thumped Gemma’s shoulder then buried her face in her hands. “Why not let him do it to you?”

“It’s not my kink. I’m not into it. You, on the other hand...”

“No. I’m choosing the switch.”

Cross grinned. “Get into position then, little one. But remember, sooner or later I’m going to fuck your ass. It’s just a matter of time.”

“What? No!” She hid behind Gemma.

He crawled over them both
then caught hold of Izzy’s ankles, and dragged her to the edge of the bed. She fought, but there was no safeword so he ignored the smacks she rained down on his arms and chest. Without waiting for her cooperation, he flipped her face down and forced her into position over the side of the bed.