What She's Looking For (20 page)

The experience of being able to
touch every part of his body with her hands was like nothing else, and she knew
she’d be looking forward to their next shower as soon as this one was done.

He barked at her to rub harder, go
slower, be more thorough. She listened and obeyed, thinking that she might just
do any fucking thing he told her in order to keep touching him for one second
longer.

Then when every part of him but his
genitals had been lovingly washed, and Ashley’s heart thudded in her chest, she
stood before him once more, shamelessly staring at that which was the part of
him she longed to touch most.

“On your knees, Ashley. I shouldn’t
have to tell you this.” His hand clapped her hip in a sharp, wet blow, and she
yelped, sinking to the tile. His cock glistened with water, beads of it caught
in the wiry nest of pubic hair.

“Soap up your tits. Lots of it.”

The mortification of being
instructed how to do this should have paralyzed her. Instead, it made her
thankful that the water masked how wet her cunt was, for she thought it certain
she’d be dripping down her thighs otherwise. Once suds dripped from her
nipples, a cloud of bubbles bridging the inner slopes of her cleavage she
looked up at him once more.

“Those tits are mine, girl.
Mine.
”
His fingers clasped each turgid nipple in a cruel grasp, squeezing hard. She
panted behind her gag as the pain flared, the sensation making her womb clench,
her clit ache. “And you’re going to wash my cock with them. Get moving.”

She cradled the heavy shaft in the
cleavage of her breasts, working it back and forth with her soft flesh, her
nipples so hard it almost hurt. She leaned in closer, pressing her flesh
against the large sack of his scrotum, working the lather into his genitals.
Risking a reprimand, she used her fingers to gently angle his cock out so that
she could run a soapy nipple back and forth along the sensitive spot just under
the head, making his whole body tremble.

Chancing a glance up at him, she
met eyes that smoldered with fires of lust, the feeling palpable that his
self-control hung on the same knife edge that hers did. As much as she wanted
to suck him, to have him throw her to the floor and fuck her senseless, she
knew then that he wanted it even more.

Perhaps submissives weren’t the
only ones who sacrificed after all? Did being in charge hold its own sort of
torment for the Dom?

“Enough,” he said, the strain
evident in his voice. “Rinse me off now.”

She obeyed, momentarily missing the
feel of her soft, vulnerable breasts surrounding the hot steel of his shaft. As
she finished washing him, she heard the whir of the motor above, her gaze
snapping upward. Before she could verbalize an incoherent protest behind the
gag, he’d snatched up her wrists in his hands, clapping them in the manacles
once more.

The whirring began again, and as
her arms raised, she prepared to rise to her feet again, resigned to being
stretched up like a side of beef once more. But his heavy hand at her shoulder
stayed her on her knees. Once her arms stretched fully overhead the motor
silenced, and his hand whispered over the straps holding in the hated gag. The
water shut off, plunging the enclosure into a steamy silence punctuated only by
the sound of dripping water and the rush of blood in her own ears.

He tipped her head back so that she
met his eyes once more, his smile a contradictory mix of warm and predatory. “You
did very well, girl. Very obedient. Do you think you can keep doing what you’re
told?”

A hand wrapped itself in the wet
mass of her hair, forcing her gaze down again, and holding her head tight. “Good.
Now, do you think you’ll remember everything I’ve instructed you in here today?
For next time you attend my shower?”

Looking down she knew she wouldn’t,
couldn’t. It had been too much, too heated — and overwhelming surge of
sensation or experience that she was sure would scramble her memory into near
incoherence. She shook her head, knowing what that admission meant.

“At least you’re honest.” A hand
caressed the wet cheeks, traced the strap leading to the hated gag. “But if I
know you’re trying, doing your best, I’ll be happy with you.”

But will you still punish me? If
I try, but fail?

Of course, she knew the answer. That
knowledge roiled within her, stoking her lust, and wrapping it in a cold
blanket of dread. Her desires, and what satisfying them meant, were a complete
contradiction in terms, but for the first time in her life, Ashley allowed
herself to hope that she’d found the man with the key to unlock them, to let
her see and experience them fully. Someone who enjoyed that part of her, who
reveled in it. A man who enjoyed using her dark desires to make her suffer, to
force her to that magical state where pain and pleasure became
indistinguishable, were all that mattered was the sensation, the feeling of
being alive, of being female — and finding the glorious release of surrender.

Had she finally found that man? The
man she’d despaired existed only in her most depraved of fantasies?

The velvety head of Parker’s cock
stroking Ashley’s gag-stretched lips brought her back to the here and now. “You
want this, don’t you girl? Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?”

Her eyes met his, and his cruel
smile told her what he expected. Swallowing the lump in her throat — something
she found quite difficult with a gag stretching her jaws — she shook her head,
her gaze sliding to the floor.

“That’s right, you haven’t been
good enough. But I want that mouth anyway.” His hand worked at the straps at
the back of her head, and the gag was pulled away. His cock was at her lips
before she had time to work the kinks from her jaws. “Now be a good girl, and
suck.”

The hard length of him pushed deep,
her lips stretching to accommodate him. Well-versed in how Terry wanted it, she
relaxed her tongue, thrusting it out in an effort to defeat her gag reflex. But
there was a problem.

Parker was bigger than Terry had
been.

She quickly realized what she
thought she knew didn’t apply here. Just when she started to panic, feeling as
if he were driving straight for her throat, he stopped, holding himself within
her mouth. “Just stay still, girl. You’re going to take all of me, even if we
have to work at this awhile. But relax for now.”

His taste, a clean combination of
soap and his distinctive male tang, made her mouth water. The heavy shaft sat
hot on her tongue, and she looked up at him hoping for leniency, mercy.

In that gray gaze she found only
avid interest, the spark of lust. “I’ll let you get used to it for the moment.
But we aren’t stopping until that nose is pressed into my pubic hair. You’ll
probably gag on my cock, but you need to learn this. I won’t let you fail,
Ashley.”

She tried to pull off of him at
those words to tell him what she thought about that idea. Was she just some
sort of hole for him to fuck? A depository for his seed?

His strong hand twisted painfully
in her hair, holding her fast, and his lips curled in one of those predatory
grins he so often had. The grin of a conqueror. “You’re not going anywhere.
Stop it.”

Stilling, she hoped her eyes and
furrowed brow conveyed the depth of her anger.

Don’t you mean confusion?

What if he really did think that?
How much worse would that be than everything else he’d said and done? She knew
even that question was unfair: nothing he’d said or done had really been that
bad, not really.

Her dripping cunt confirmed the
truth of things.

The hard cock thrust again, and she
gagged, twisting in his grip, ignoring the flare of pain at her scalp.

“It’s okay, keep the tongue pushed
out. You’ll get this.”

Helpless, she tried as he pushed
forward once more. He got a little further before the urge to gag came on
strong again, and her entire body tensed. He reached down and stroked her
throat, as someone might a dog when giving it a pill to swallow.

Absurdly, it seemed to help,
despite the tiny feminist voice railing its outrage in the back of her mind.

“There you go, girl. Just loosen,
go limp, and let it in. Use your nose to breathe. You can do it if you
concentrate. Be good now, try again.”

The length of cock pulled most of
the way back until the broad head rested on her lips, his hand loosening its
grip and smoothing over her hair. Then he cooed to her as he pressed forward
once more, slower, but exerting a steady pressure.

Knowing this time that he might not
relent she tried to do it, to follow his instructions. She released the tension
in her whole body, even unclasping the tight fists her hands had balled into
above her in their bonds.

The chains rustled as he thrust
fully into her, the hair at the base of his shaft tickling her nose, the musk
of his scent stronger. “That’s it. Fuck yes, Ashley. That’s it!”

The strain in his voice sent a
contradictory surge of pride and embarrassment through her, even as she felt
the panic coming on at her lack of oxygen. She began to tense again, the
sensation of him so far into her throat completely alien, but not entirely
unpleasant. The feeling of being
used
, like a toy, appealed to her on
some elemental level she wasn’t entirely sure how to process. Though forcing
her throat like that was little different from a man holding her down and
pounding her cunt — which she found embarrassingly hot — there was something
especially objectifying about having a man make you swallow his cock, make you
gag on it, use you unrelentingly. What did that confused appeal mean to her?

Just when she thought she’d
explored the full extent of her sexuality, it seemed Parker was adept at find
even more aspects, hidden parts of her that surprised, mortified and
exhilarated her in equal measure.

“That’s my good girl,” Parker
breathed as he pulled out, his cock bobbing as he fisted it in a big hand,
allowing her to drag in a ragged breath. “Now, open again. We’re not even close
to done yet.”

He surged forward once more parting
her lips, then her throat, as that broad head barreled forward, eliciting a
humiliating watery squawk from her as he struck the back of her throat. A tear
leaked from the corner of one of her eyes.

Her gaze caught his as he grinned
at the sound. “You’ll get used to that, my girl. Now, take it all the way
again.” Her eyes closed involuntarily as he stretched her throat once more,
pressing her face tight to the wiry hair and holding her there for several
beats, her throat clicking, blood rushing in her ears. Finally, he eased back,
saliva dripping from the corner of Ashley’s mouth. Having her hands bound so
securely above her, while Parker used that big cock to control her very
breathing … should have pissed her off, horrified her.

But it did anything but, her aching
clit and rock hard nipples betraying the real truth. The feeling of being used,
even callously spoke to those depraved, dark fantasies she’d never dreamed
might someday come true.

His thrusts took up a rhythm, and
she was able to use her lips and tongue on him, to tend to him the way she knew
he liked, the slurping sounds of her servicing a humiliating counterpoint to
his heavy breathing. His large testicles swung against her chin as he pushed
deep, over and over, her gagging now at a minimum. Her body shuddered as his
thrusts picked up pace, the harness creaking as she was buffeted by the steady
movement of his hips. A strong hand held her under her chin, while another
fisted in the hair at the top of her head, his thrusts coming even faster. “You’ll
swallow my come, Ashley. Every fucking drop!”

His cock swelled even larger within
the desperate clutch of her lips, Parker’s groan and a pulsating along the
length of his shaft preceding a hot surge of semen deep in her mouth, he pushed
hard as the last shudders passed through his body making her cough and sputter.
He held himself within her, though, until she’d swallowed all of it.

Or almost all of it.

A viscous drop of his seed escaped
the corner of her mouth, and she felt it splash against the curve of her
breast, the heat of it surprising her.

He finally withdrew, his fist
working the glistening length of his shaft as he stared down upon her. She drew
in a gust of breath, licking the remnants of his seed from her swollen lips.
Then she gazed up at him.

“What did I just tell you, Ashley?”

Her body froze at his tone. Oh
fuck, she’d screwed up already?

A large pearly drop of his come
shone at the tip of his penis as he continued working himself in his fist. He
tipped his head down at it. “That too.”

It was salty, but not unpleasant,
and for a humiliating moment, she wished she’d been able to taste more of him
rather than have him force his seed down her throat. For perhaps the millionth
time she thanked God he wasn’t privy to her innermost depraved thoughts.

They’d just give him more ideas.

“I’m waiting, girl. I want an
answer.” His jaw clenched, and he slapped the softening cock lightly against
her cheek. “What did I tell you?”

Swallowing the slickness of his
come, she peered up at him. “Sw—swallow all of it?”

“Every drop.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

His eyes narrowed, and he reached
down, swiping up the globule of his semen from her breast. The finger was held
up before her, accusatory, damning. “I won’t permit this. When I tell you
you’re to swallow every drop, you will. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, hanging
her head. Ashley was past protesting, defiance. She just wanted to do something
right. To please him, even if just a little. She didn’t know where the urge was
coming from, but it was strong, and gazing at that fingertip, wet with the
evidence of duty failed, she felt … shame.