Controlling Chrissy Page 5

  Chrissy felt a hot surge in her pussy. Did he intend to put her in bondage?

  "Come along," he said to her, addressing her with all the finesse one might apply to a poodle.

  Again, Chrissy was heeling, this time with the insufferable Arianna in the rear. "You know," the woman told Derek. "She's not half bad looking. Have you fucked her?"

  "No," he replied curtly. "And Miss Newland is fully aware of the reasons why not."

  "Ooo," Arianna taunted. "Someone's been a naughty girl."

  Chrissy whirled on her. "Fuck you, you overpriced, overrated high brow whore!"

  Derek seized Chrissy by the back of her hair. "Apologize."

  Chrissy's eyes watered immediately from the pain. He was pulling it directly by the roots, forcing her to face her nemesis. "I'm sorry," she winced.

  "No offense taken," Arianna assured her. "You're white trash. That's to be expected."

  Chrissy was so hurt she wanted to die. But there wasn't going to be any such easy way out, not for the likes of her. "Go in the living room," he said harshly. "Take off your dress. Stand in the middle of the room facing the window, hands behind your head."

  Derek released her to do his bidding. Touching Arianna lightly on the arm he invited her out to the balcony off the bedroom. Chrissy wobbled forward out to the abandoned living room. The hallway door, which was her escape hatch, seemed a million miles away. She was too deep into this now, too far gone to contemplate escape. It was more than morbid curiosity, it was a thirst, a kind of dark need that had been awakened in her, and with each fresh humiliation it only got stronger.

  Chrissy closed her eyes as she unzipped the dress. The sound of the tiny catches in the zipper reverberated down her spine. She could smell the waft of her perfume mixed with her heat, the sexual scent inaugurated by sheer cruelty. She pulled the soft velour over her head. The precious dress had gone unfelt by human hands, and apparently unnoticed.

  Maybe he'd notice now, she thought, allowing it to fall to the floor beside her. She was reduced to panties and bra, pretty black lace with tiny bows of red. One between the cups covering her round breasts, then one more at each side of her panties. More than one man had swooned over the ensemble in the past, but now it was she who was swooning. There was no power for her in her sexy getup this time. She was contained, helpless, utterly dependant on his will.

  She could count on none of her usual weapons. Of what use was the arsenal of her sexuality when he had the likes of an Arianna at his beck and call? The woman outshone her in a hundred ways and they both knew it. Did Chrissy's lust count for anything – or her willingness to do whatever Derek wanted her to? Maybe seeing her ongoing humiliation would turn him on enough to cause him to break that stupid rule he'd made about not dating – or fucking her.

  They were coming back out of the bedroom. She could hear them. Oh, god, her hands. She'd forgotten to put them behind her head. Quickly, thrusting out her tits, she complied, interlacing her freshly polished nails. Her head was sore where he'd torn at her hair. It had been yet another punishment, this one for her rudeness.

  "Now that's more like it," said Arianna, drinking in the sight of the half naked, subjugated girl. "I'll bet she feels much more at home this way, don't you think, Derek? Although I doubt her kind spreads its legs in rooms quite so fancy."

  "She's not a whore, Arianna," said Derek, surprising Chrissy with his sudden and vehement defense of her honor. "She's just misguided."

  Arianna did not like being contradicted, especially in front of a female she considered her inferior. It was Chrissy who paid the immediate price for the woman's wrath.

  "Then we ought to enlighten her," Arianna came up from behind, pulling Chrissy's hands down to her sides. Their bodies were touching, front to back, the tall model looming over the petite secretary. Without warning, Arianna bit down hard, sinking her teeth into Chrissy's ear.

  Chrissy yelped, immediately drawing censure from Derek.

  "That will be enough out of you, Miss Newland. One more outburst and I will gag you."

  Arianna clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Bad little girl," she wrapped her hands around the girl's panty covered waist. "You made Derek mad. I don't think he'll be doing much more banking with you."

  Chrissy clenched her fists, but that was as much as she dared resist. She did not want Derek angry with her; certainly not any angrier than he already was. Sensing her capitulation, Arianna capitalized.

  "You oughtn't have crossed me," the woman licked at Chrissy's neck, a single razor sharp nail burrowing under the front panel of her panties and settling over the folds of her labia. "That will cost you."

  Arianna found her clitoris, indenting it with her nail. "Go on," she challenged the whimpering girl. "Open your fucking white trash mouth now why don't you."

  It hurt, oh god, it hurt, but it was a pleasure center, too. The signals were mixed, confused and overpowering.

  "You like that, Daisy May Duke? Does your brother or your uncle do it that good, or whoever else in your family fucks you back home?"

  "Jeezus," said Derek. "Give her a break"

  Arianna eased up and inserted a second finger. "Lucky you," she said. "Seems like Derek has taken a shine to you. He always did have a thing for strays. Especially the mongrels. Come for me, Little Pet. Come on my hand like a good little slut."

  Chrissy shuddered, falling back against her cruel tormentor. Arianna was all she had right now; with her body she begged for mercy, begged for pleasure.

  Arianna continued to taunt her as she soaked the front of her panties, the juice from her pussy dripping below the bottom of the lace. Her nipples were like bullets. She was undulating, pushing her ass against the model's pelvis. The more the woman called her names, the hotter she got.

  Inbred trailer tramp … two-bit street cunt … she soaked up every word, though she'd never walked a street for money or even set foot in a mobile home in her entire life. It had something to do with the way this woman was making her feel – all sexy and dirty and low. It was also a turn-on being controlled like this, having no choice but to perform.

  Her eyes followed Derek as he walked to the bar for another drink. She felt a pang of loneliness, a longing mixed in with her desire and shame. It wasn't something she was familiar with, not in all her dealings with the male gender.

  "Look at how she watches you," Arianna rubbed Chrissy's nose in it. "The little bitch has it bad for you. Kind of cute, in a pathetic way."

  "Just finish what you're doing, Arianna. I haven't got all night."

  Arianna grabbed Chrissy's tit with her free hand, forcing her over the brink. "Close your eyes, honey, imagine sweet Derek … making love to you. Because in a minute you'll see him do the real thing. With me."

  Chrissy's pussy clenched, as if the man's cock were there. Arianna had made it clear she didn't deserve the real thing. Not a bed or a handsome lover. Just rude, mechanical manipulation, like some kind of animal being milked.

  It was a moaning, sweaty orgasm. All the hotter for her being out in the open like this, exposed and on display. Arianna continued playing her, making sure to get the most out of her. Wave after wave, washing her down and away till there was barely strength to stand.

  Arianna showed no mercy. As soon as Chrissy was through climaxing, she shoved her wet fingers into the girl's mouth. "Lick it clean," she ordered.

  Chrissy's eyes trickled tears as she tasted herself. Derek was having a drink, indifferent to her plight. She saw from the bottle it was Vodka in his glass, the best on the market. What was he thinking about at this very moment? She'd give anything to know. The man didn't seem to care and yet he'd stuck up for her twice against Arianna's vicious attacks. Did he have her on his mind even a little?

  Certainly he thought of her enough to bring her up here for torture, Chrissy thought dryly.

  "Where do you want her?" Arianna asked when Chrissy was done.

  "Use the desk chair. Put her right in front of the bed. There's some duct
tape on the night stand."

  "A front row seat," Arianna approved, clamping Chrissy's upper arm. "Let's go, slut. You don't want to miss the opening curtain."

  Arianna sat Chrissy down facing the foot of the bed. It was indeed a prime viewing place. She wouldn't miss a thing, whether she wanted to or not.

  "Oh, look," Arianna exclaimed, noting the scissors beside the roll of duct tape on the nightstand. "What a lucky break. Something to cut with."

  Chrissy, sitting gingerly in her flimsy undergarments was filled with immediate dread. Sure enough, the woman returned brandishing the shears in her direction. "Arianna, please, don't."

  Arianna slapped her. "Did anyone say you could open your mouth, slut?"

  "No," whispered Chrissy.

  "No, ma'am," corrected the imperious blonde. "Say it."

  "No, ma'am," she acquiesced, humbling herself before the spoiled beauty.

  "Open your legs, slut. Wide."

  Chrissy did as she was told. Her pussy was already throbbing, more than ready for a follow-up orgasm.

  "Sluts like you don't deserve nice underwear," Arianna bent to snip the waistband of the panties. "In fact, you don't deserve any underwear at all."

  Chrissy inhaled, trying to stay perfectly still. The scissor blades were grazing her pussy as they cut. One wrong move and she would be in excruciating pain.

  "Snip, snip," Arianna winked at her misery. "Want a little trim while I'm down here?"

  "Ma'am," she pleaded. "No more."

  Arianna closed the scissors and slid them inside her pussy. Chrissy shivered at the feel of the cold metal.

  "I told you," Arianna smiled. "You'd be sorry for fucking with me."

  "I am," she insisted. "I'm very, very sorry."

  "Lying whore." Arianna pulled out the blades and wiped them clean on Chrissy's naked thigh. "Maybe it's time for a haircut," she considered.

  The yellow haired witch's eyes glowed as she reached for the remains of Chrissy's ponytail. Oh, god, she wouldn't really do it, would she?

  "No, ma'am, no," she squealed. "I really am sorry…I am, I am."

  "Knock that shit off," Derek announced his presence in the bedroom. "And get your ass on the bed. Naked."

  "Yes, Derek," said a contrite Arianna.

  Without any further ado, Arianna took off her gown and white silk underwear and crawled up onto the king-sized bed. She looked sexy as hell with only her necklace and earrings on, and the gold shoes still on her feet.

  "I'm so wet," she told him as she lowered her cheek to the bed, her ass in the air, her knees drawn up to her belly and wide apart.

  It was a posture of perfect submission.

  Derek slid his belt calmly from the loops, wrapping the buckle end around his hand. "Were you given permission to speak?"

  The blonde's spine shivered in anticipation. "No, sir."

  To Chrissy's horror, Derek reared back and laid the leather across Arianna's ass. She cried out in pain, even as a welt arose, red and angry.

  "You enjoyed dominating Miss Newland, didn't you? It pleased you to lord it over her because she was under my power and unable to fight back?"

  "Yes," she panted, having been put down hard in her place. "Sir."

  Derek struck her again, the effort child's play for him and agony for her. "Is there anything you wish to say, Arianna?"

  "I'm sorry, Sir. I was … bad."

  "You were a naughty girl," he agreed, lightly touching the doubled welt with his fingers.

  Arianna moaned from the renewed pain. "I beg to please you, sir."

  Chrissy caught her own hand at the edge of her panties. She'd been about to masturbate without realizing it. It was just that this was so hot to watch. She was right there with Arianna, feeling the burn of the belt, and the hot open need of her pussy, too, with its beautiful swollen lips.

  And she was there with Derek, too, imagining things from his side. The raw surge of power he must be feeling in his loins, an energy transferred throughout his entire body, from his biceps and pectorals under the dress shirt, down through his abdomen and thighs.

  "Indeed you will please me," he assured her. "By taking it in the ass to be precise."

  He left her to anticipate as he turned his attentions to Chrissy. Lowering himself to one knee he ripped off a strip of the heavy gray tape from the roll. She shuddered as he touched her ankle. His fingers were surprisingly warm and gentle. The familiar firmness was there, too, though. Her body sighed in recognition. It knew this man. His discipline, his will, his artistry of pleasure and pain. There would be no resisting this man and she knew it, for whatever she might think, her flesh would betray her in the end.

  He wrapped the tape two times around, connecting her ankle to the leg of the chair. Immediately he moved to the other ankle, performing the same action. Chrissy drew a breath, tensing her thighs. She could no longer close her legs.

  Derek rose to his feet to get her wrists. She was intensely aware of her near nudity. From this angle, bending over her, he could see her pussy, fully exposed beneath the ruined, cut open panties. He could see her tremoring belly, too, and her breasts, barely contained in the lace. She tried not to arch her back, tried not to offer herself too blatantly. Touch me, she wanted to scream, please, put me out of my misery, take these tits, do what you want to them, maul them, tear away this bra, plunge your finger in my pussy, make me come for you, like Arianna did, only with you I will love every minute of it and call out your name and beg for kisses and love and … everything.

  "Try and break free," said Derek when he'd completed his work.

  Chrissy wriggled, pulling at the tape. "I can't," she said.

  "Your choices have been removed," he nodded. "You've been backed into a corner. That's rather the same thing that happens to the men you involve yourself with, don't you think?"

  She tried to evade his eyes. So he was on to that again.

  "Look at me, Chrissy."

  His gaze slew her, a slow, semi-orgasmic piercing death. "You know the saying about things coming back to haunt you? Well, that's the point you are at. I am here to administer you a harsh dose of karma."

  Chrissy couldn't help but answer back. "I already got my punishment, remember? Who are you to meddle in my life any deeper than that; you're not God."

  "True." He showed no sign of irritation. "But I ask you this. Are you happy walking all over the men in your life? Does it really leave you satisfied knowing you can twist them around your finger, or do you wind up with a hollowness and a burning you cannot satisfy?"

  Chrissy ground her teeth. The bastard had cut to the core again, exposing things, putting feelings into words she'd only half admitted to herself. "You don't know me," she blurted, sounding more like four than twenty-four.

  His smile was slanted, infinitely patient and way too deep for her to begin to deal with. "We'll see," he said.

  Chrissy shut her mouth. Half naked, duct taped and ready for sex, her number called yet again by this cool, confident importer and exporter who had completely infiltrated her thoughts and all but ruined her sleep patterns. If she'd been true to her emotions she'd have said, "Yes, sir," in concession to his insight. As it was, she stewed … wondering when and if the strength would ever come to fight back.

  "Arianna, are you ready to submit?" Derek asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes still on the seated prisoner. Beneath his dress shirt he had a crew neck, tight against his skin. As he peeled the final layer off, she was treated to a lean, tanned torso with every bit of the muscle definition she'd imagined. It was like looking at the human equivalent of a lion, tawny, with understated predatory power.

  "Yes, sir, I am ready," Arianna assured him, as though she were at a job interview.

  "I don't want to have a lot of trouble getting in," he informed her. "If I do, I'll have to soften you up more with the belt."

  "No, sir, my asshole is ready … it's yours … I'm yours."

  Chrissy's mouth watered as Derek continued his relentless disrobing, unbut
toning his pants and pulling down the zipper. She wondered why he was giving her this little performance as opposed to simply acting as if she weren't here at all. Was it meant to be more torture through teasing – yet another of his damnable lessons about how she treated others?

  If so, he was bordering on some big-time hypocrisy. After all, wasn't his treatment of her just as bad, if not worse, than anything she'd done? One thing was for sure – Chrissy had darn well never duct taped a member of the opposite sex to a freaking chair and made him watch while she fucked another man.

  "Yes," he agreed, acknowledging the blonde's surrender. "You are."

  Derek's cock and balls swelled against his briefs as he pulled off his pants. His body was perfectly proportioned, the waist narrow and athletic. Clearly this was a man who cared meticulously for his body, treating it with scientific exactitude, like a living machine. And what results. She could barely restrain herself from drooling in his presence.

  After what felt like an eternity, Derek slipped the white cotton shorts down over his manhood, allowing the rock hard shaft to spring free. It was long and thick and proud, the head uncircumcised. His balls were tight, indicating a full load of sperm ready to be injected into the asshole of the subjugated, still panting model.

  Arianna wasn't complaining in the least, so she must like this kind of treatment. Some women did, after all. It was hard for Chrissy to think of herself as one of them. Despite the feelings she was having and the very real effect of Derek's domination over her, she still saw it as something abstract and far away.

  Derek went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. The tube of gel was a familiar sex product, one used for lubrication. Chrissy held her breath in sheer awe as he squirted some on his palm and began to stroke himself. It was an act of such sheer confidence and masculinity she could not help but spasm in response.

  "Your cock is beautiful," she said.

  His face held no expression, as he coated the length of himself, lending the fleshy steel rod a glistening sheen. Chrissy was overcome with the desire to do the job herself, using her own much smaller hands. He would throb in her grip, so full of life and power, and she would tremble thinking of the explosion of seed waiting within.