Own Me, My Love Read online

  Marlene heard him breathing.

  "Sir?"

  "This is gonna cost you,” he said. “Your blouse."

  "My...” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the terrible, lurid thought.

  "Your blouse,” he repeated. “It comes off now."

  Her mouth went dry. Had he forgotten her lack of a bra? “But I'm in traffic ... I can't just ... bare myself. I'll be humiliated."

  "Should have thought of that before you disobeyed me, shouldn't you? You want to act like a little slut? Then I'm gonna treat you like one. Now do as you're told, or you'll be driving into this parking lot back naked."

  "Yes, Sir."

  Marlene's pussy ached. She'd never needed to be fucked so bad in her life. At the same time she was a little scared, too. Not just at the outrageousness of his demand, but at the edge in his voice. Should she be giving in so easily? He was still a stranger. Yes, she'd gotten references, online, and she'd put in a stop gap, alerting a girlfriend of hers to raise the alarm bells if she didn't check back in by five.

  A hell of a lot could happen in between.

  Her breathing went sharp and shallow. She moaned a little, her nipples grazing the material of the blouse. The covering she was about to surrender. One by one, she worked the buttons, parting the material down to the waistband of her skirt.

  "Have you done it yet? What's going on?"

  "Almost...” Marlene had the hands free. With just the earpiece it was like Jake was right in her head.

  "You better not be playing with me,” he warned.

  "I'm not, I promise."

  "I'll leave now. I'll call it off."

  "No, I'm doing it.” She shrugged the material, desperately, over her shoulders. Oh, god, she was coming up to an intersection. There was a truck on her left and a pair of young Hispanic guys in a car on the right.

  The trucker noticed first. She jumped at the sound of the diesel horn. No doubt, she was making his day. For a woman her age, she had a good body. She worked at it, in the gym, and she was careful what she ate. He was leaning across, waving and drooling.

  "What's going on?” Jake wanted to know. “Oh, and by the way, you're earning extra punishment for every time you didn't call me Sir."

  Her heart sank. She'd forgotten. “I'm stopped at a light, Sir. People ... men are watching."

  The young men in the car had caught on by now. The driver's window was down, his arm was hanging out and he was making lewd comments.

  "Arch your back, give them a good view."

  Marlene shivered. The vibrator was pushing her back over the top. “I ... I'm going to come again,” she cried, helplessly.

  "Hold your tits, let them see what a slut you are."

  Marlene groaned, clenching her thighs.

  The young men were hollering and hooting, enjoying the free show.

  "Come on, mami,” said the driver of the car. “Follow us. We'll get it on."

  Jake was laughing from his end. “Sounds like you've got them pretty worked up."

  The light turned green. Marlene tried to put her head back into the driving. She had about two blocks to go. Surprisingly, no one else seemed to be noticing. Maybe they were pretending not to. She concentrated on breathing, on not thinking about sex, about the kind of things Jake was going to do to her.

  Not to mention things she was imagining the young Hispanic men doing, their hands pawing her body, pressing her back against of their slick, purple Impala, with the spinners and the booming bass stereo. They'd make her a little slut all right, in a hurry.

  Oh, fuck, they were following her. Leering. Every time she looked into her rear view, they were there, wagging their tongues, beating their chests. What on earth was she going to do if they followed her to the motel?

  Sure enough, they turned into the cracked asphalt parking lot of the Thunderbird with her. “Jake, sir,” she said, broadcasting her growing anxiousness. “I'm not alone."

  "Just stay cool, pull up in front of number sixteen, next to the Jeep. I'll take care of ‘em."

  "But ... but, Sir, they look like they're in a gang or something."

  "I said I'll take care of them. Stop questioning me."

  "Yes, Sir.” Marlene gripped the wheel, concentrating on the façade of the single story, concrete block structure. The numbers increased with painful slowness. She could not be done with this ride soon enough.

  Marlene spied the Jeep first. It was a black four door. Relief flooded her. “I'm here,” she cried. “Can you see me?"

  "Yea.” He waited for her to pull in. “I see you."

  His voice had changed. He sounded almost ... indifferent. “Are you coming out?” She wanted to know. “Or should I make a run for it?"

  "Just sit tight. I'll be out."

  "But..."

  "I said sit tight.” He broke the connection, leaving her high and dry.

  Fuck.

  The purple car was right behind her, blocking her in. The young guys were looking her over, checking the situation, seeing if it was safe to get out and pursue things. Panicking, she put her blouse back on. They hopped out of the car and over to hers. One on each side, they pressed their crotches to the front windows, cat calling. They were hard and their cocks were quite large.

  Not knowing what else to do, she called Jake back. “Jake, Sir, I'm afraid they'll break in and rape me."

  "Yea? Well if that's what has to happen to teach you a lesson."

  "What?!” Arousal shifted to fury. “You piece of shit cock sucker, you said you'd take care of this. I'm calling the police."

  "Do you think they'll get there fast enough?” He wondered aloud.

  Marlene's heart was thundering. Actually, she had no clue. But what choice did she have? Served her right for agreeing to meet a stranger for sex.

  Fuck the Internet, she thought, and all those who surf it.

  Fingers trembling she pushed the buttons on her phone. She wasn't getting a signal!

  "Jake,” she cried ... for pity's sake..."

  "You might better let them in,” Jake was advising, “and give them what they want."

  The one was pulling up his shirt, showing her his well-developed chest.

  Marlene was starting to hyperventilate. “Jake ... oh, god ... it's ... I'm going to..."

  Jake sighed. “Oh, all right, if you're going to be such a spoil sport."

  The door to sixteen opened. A man emerged, muscular, with a sleeveless t-shirt and khakis. The two young men looked at him, offering a quick, professional nod. Jake was pulling out his wallet, taking out two bills. They walked up, taking one apiece.

  "Son of a bitch,” she cried into the receiver. “You hired them?"

  "Thought you might like a little extra entertainment,” winked the short haired, wryly smiling man, his chiseled cheeks graced by a sexy little five o'clock shadow. “Call it foreplay."

  Marlene knew she should just drive off and cut her losses, but she always had been impulsive. Like Kyle—or wasn't swallowing all those pills an impulsive act at all? Hard to know, when he wasn't around to answer any questions. Or bear any of her emotions.

  "Asshole!” She swung the car door open and lunged at him, completely indifferent to her still opened blouse.

  Jake easily fended off the attack, grabbing her wrist and bending it high behind her back. She opened her mouth to protest and found herself promptly, and thoroughly kissed.

  She was panting again by the time he released her, his tongue having ravaged her mouth, his hard pectorals having raised her nipples to points, sharp as bullets.

  "No more games, Marlene. You know why you're here."

  "Y—yes,” she breathed. God, he was so damned sexy. “Sir."

  "Tell me, then,” he pressed. “Tell me what you're here for."

  The young men were driving off, honking the horn.

  "I'm here ... to submit. “Sir."

  He was biting at her neck, sliding his hand up her ribcage to cup her full breasts. “And that's just what you're going to do,
isn't it?"

  She shook her head in the affirmative.

  "Which means if I choose to hire two guys, or twenty, to play with you a little and show what a sexy slut you are, then your proper role isn't to bitch about it, but to be grateful, isn't it?"

  She nodded again.

  "Say it,” he commanded.

  Her voice was cracking, hot and dry. “My role is to be grateful..."

  He pinched her nipple, rubbing thumb and forefinger together. “Inside that room, baby, is another world. You cross this threshold, there's no going back. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Sir.” She'd had an inkling all along. Not just how he played online but how he'd been when they finally met, looking her dead in the eye, putting her in her place, ordering her to the bathroom to take off her panties so she could sit with her legs spread wide open, pussy bared as he let her know exactly what he expected from here on out.

  "Have you any idea what I'm going to do to you today?” He inquired.

  "No, Sir."

  "Maybe you could help me.” He beamed in with blue eyes sharp enough to kill. “What are my options?"

  She swallowed hard. “Your ... options?"

  What a peculiar way to put it...

  "Sure. My options—the things I could do to you, if I liked."

  Her pussy flooded. She could smell her own heat.

  "How about if you list some of them, as many as you can think."

  "You could ... take me...” she whispered.

  "Take you? How?"

  He wanted specifics. “Any way you want, Sir. My pussy. My mouth."

  The very confessions were like surrenders. It was like in naming body the parts, she was already offering them ... and being penetrated.

  "And your ass?” He cupped the cheeks.

  "Yes, Sir. My ass, too."

  "And your breasts?” He parted the halves of her blouse, exposing her.

  Marlene looked about nervously. An old man was leaning against a lamppost nursing bottle in a greasy paper bag, wrinkled as rattlesnake skin. “My breasts, too, Sir."

  "Did I say you could cover yourself?"

  Marlene uncrossed her arms.

  "You have a lot to learn, don't you, girl?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "What was that, I didn't quite make it out?"

  "I have a lot to learn,” she spoke up. “Sir."

  "Today is your first lesson,” he informed her. “And it's waiting for you inside that room. You're going to learn to suck dick, Marlene. Not like a schoolgirl, but like a slave girl. How does that sound?"

  Marlene swooned, unable to answer.

  He laughed, grabbing her arm. “It's all right, the question was rhetorical."

  "Step one,” he pushed her to the carpet on the other side of the door. “Take off your shirt, get on your knees. “Step two. Open that lovely mouth real wide. Step three,” he picked up a riding crop off the bed and swung it back and forth in the air. “Hold up your tits for me ... nice and high."

  Marlene pushed them out, making them even more vulnerable. They were tingling, begging attention.

  Jake pushed back her chin with the tip of the crop. “Step four...” He thought for a moment. “Fuck it. I don't have a step four."

  Laughing again, he took a swing at her, landing the crop hard, right across the top of both breasts. Marlene cried out in shock. Nothing on-line had prepared her for this.

  "Hold your position,” he warned.

  She struggled to keep her place. He lashed out at her again, even more savagely. The whip left a red mark, an instant welt. A perfect match to the first.

  "That's what happens to bad girls. Consider that incentive to mind your lesson very, very well. Are you ready to advance, then, or shall we repeat the prelimaries?"

  "No, Sir, I'm ready,” she offered quickly, more than a little anxious to be spared any further beating.

  "Arch your back,” he ordered. “Hands behind your back."

  Marlene put herself in position. He was opening his pants, pulling out his full, magnificent cock. He wore no underwear. His balls were heavy and tight and mouthwatering. With all the confidence and power in the world, he touched the tip of his engorged shaft to her lips.

  "Kiss,” he commanded.

  Marlene melted, the mere touch of her mouth quickly transforming itself into a form of worship.

  "Not bad,” he observed. “For a beginner slut."

  The dirty, demeaning words only served to spur her on. Without waiting to be told, she kissed the underside of him, running her tongue along the thick, pulsing vein, just the way she knew all men loved.

  "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?” He mused.

  Marlene felt a fist form in her silky hair, pulling her head back off him. He was pulling at the roots, hard enough to make her mouth water. “Free thinking isn't a desirable quality in a slave. How about we start over with the basics."

  Jake pushed her head down to his desert boots. Accepting the demotion, she showed the leather material the same passion she had bestowed on his flesh a moment ago. Her loins were on fire now—she craved him, all the power and fearsomeness of him. But the choice was not hers, neither the means of his pleasuring, nor its outcome. As for herself, she would be pleasured or pleasured not at all at his whim.

  He allowed her several moments to dab her tongue across the boot. It was a cementing of their relationship, as well as a harbinger of things to come.

  "Lick,” he ordered, pulling her this time up to his scrotum.

  She put mouth to his balls, one by one, feeling the surging power within. All that male strength, the semen that he would soon dispense ... inside her, somewhere.

  "You look good like this ... it's a natural position. That's a good thing, since you're going to be in it a lot."

  Marlene ate at him hungrily. How did he know the appetite she had for degradation? For this exact flavor of servitude? He was going to become a drug for her. That much was sure. So far she'd avoided all the others—the various substances and behaviors that the counselors had warned could come calling on her, plying wickedly to fill the emptiness in her life. The pain of her grieving.

  Her husband was gone, her own daughter was at war with her. What else did she have, but this? She prayed it could be more. That this man could have a heart, too, that he could come to crave her as a person as much as he did a conquered sex object.

  Yes, she wanted this now, the forgetting, the transformation, almost magical into some other being, but one day, perhaps soon, she'd want her personhood, too.

  A strange thought occurred to her. Could there be a way to it through this very experience and not around it? If she abased herself enough, if he helped her to shed the totality of her current human persona, could they find together a butterfly within? What if she were to be his ally, in her own despoilment, her own transformation?

  "Your balls, are so tight,” she croaked. “God, I need you to fuck my mouth."

  Jake was slipping into some other mode, downshifting. “Shut up, bitch. No one cares what you need.” He slapped her hard across the cheek. An obscene sting palpable all the way down to her pussy.

  Automatically, her sex gaped, knees spreading under the skirt. That's the kind of slut she was—no need for flowers, wine or roses, just cold brutality to put her in the mood. “Use me, Jake...” She urged, no longer feeling the need to call him Sir.

  Was it because she felt closer to him now, or was she just beyond caring about punishment?

  Either way, he made no mention of the omission as he fished in his pocket for the clothespins. He had two of them. One for each nipple.

  "It hurts,” she whimpered as he attached the spring-loaded wood.

  "Suck it up, slut."

  The second was more agonizing than the first. It was like a bee sting. Five or ten of them.

  "Struggling makes it worse.” Jake put her mouth back over his cock. This time he rammed himself home aiming straight for the back of his throat. “Don't you dare gag on me,” h
e warned. “Or I'll throw you out of here buck naked ... after a good tanning with my belt."

  Marlene's jaws went slack. The letting go of her own will was like an orgasm. No man had ever gotten so deep inside her. The things he'd done to her already—the emotions he'd stirred. It put her in awe and for the time being, until that day when she might safely posit her heart in some real man, worthy of love, she contented herself with the illusion.

  The fantasy.

  Being called over to be a common whore. To suck dick on her knees, to pleasure a man who got off on toying with her—watching her squirm in fear of thugs he hired himself.

  What kind of woman would service a man after that? Where was her self-respect? But that was the point. She didn't want any. No respect, no sense of self either. Just forgetting. A few hours of quiet self-obliteration.

  He pushed her away. “You have no clue how to handle a cock. I ought to round up about fifty winos for you to practice on. For now, you'll take it on your face and tits. I want you masturbating at the same time, too. Get that skirt off."

  Marlene removed the clasp on her expensive work skirt, baring her lower half. Tossing it aside, she dipped her fingers greedily into place. One touch on her clitoris sent her into orbit.

  "You like that don't you, slut? I'll bet you like it even more when I stick my rock hard dick so deep in their you end up seeing it in the back of your eyeballs."

  Marlene began to spasm, her body swirling at this implied new torture. It was as if he were fucking and owning and using her with his words, his ideas ... looking into her future, even that of her intimate body, she saw nothing but him.

  "Oh, god,” she groaned, her nipples swelling against the pins, her pussy gushing under his cool, in control eyes. “I'm ... I'm coming."

  "Not until I say,” Jake growled, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants.

  Marlene cried out as he wrenched her hand away. Bending her arm back over her shoulder, tightly clamping her wrist, he made a bow of her, exposing her belly, breasts and crotch.

  Heels dug into the back of her thighs, legs apart, she had no choice but to submit fully to his wrath.

  "Now you'll pay, my glorious little bitch."

  The belt cut across her taut stomach like fire. It was a wider, broader pain than the whip. Perhaps she felt it all the more because she knew what was coming next.