11. Hollywood
11
HOLLYWOOD
I scribbled through that checklist like my ass was on fire, marking maybe or yes to most of the stuff on it. I’d never been into scat or wet works, so those were firm limits, but anything else was on the table. I filled out the spot for safeword, writing “Full House” since that was the hand I’d been dealt that put us in this position. Then, I sat at the table and waited for V to return. She’d told me to stay put, so I didn’t dare move. I just sipped at the water like a good boy and stared at the scratch in the middle of the wood, remembering when KC made it as a teenager.
My heart pounded down into my cock, already rock hard with expectation at what tonight might bring. I hadn’t had a dominant since my ex and that had been more about her pissing off her husband than it was about building a relationship with me, but fuck it. I’d just wanted to get my ass spanked and dick sucked, and she’d been up for the job.
When the door opened down the hallway and the boom of V’s shitkickers sauntered toward me, I bit my bottom lip and glanced up at her.
Fucking. Fuck.
She looked amazing, wearing a black leather bodysuit with a halter crossing her chest that disappeared over her shoulders. She’d worn the same boots she had on the night at the clubhouse, and my blood pounded harder at the memory of her digging that heel into an old bullet wound.
I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until she tucked the end of a riding crop under my chin to close it.
“Are you ready, pretty boy?” She leaned down so she could glance at my checklist, giving me a view straight down her cleavage. Fuck, I wanted to shove my face into that mound of flesh and breathe her in deep. I wanted to tuck my cock in between those magnificent tits and fuck the tip into her mouth until I came. “Hmm, so we like pegging after all.”
“I like a dick in the ass as much as anyone.” There was nothing quite like being held down and screwed so hard I saw stars. Not all guys would admit it; most wouldn’t even try it. But with someone who knew what they were doing, my prostate ached for a good massage.
“Shut up.” She brought the crop down on the table so hard, I jumped more than the glasses of water. “You can talk when I tell you.”
Gulping, I nodded and swallowed the exhilaration shooting through my veins. She was the only one who talked to me like this, and it was so fucking mean, I loved it. I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing what she could do. It was part of what made her so alluring in the first place.
“Safeword is ‘full house,’” she said, fisting her fingers into my hair. “You may speak that at any time. Otherwise, the only words you’ll say are ‘Yes, Mistress.’”
“Yes, Mistress,” I repeated, giving her another quick nod of approval. My hands trembled, and I clenched them into fists to keep myself from appearing so nervous. Why the hell was I shaking? This was V, a woman I’d known since childhood, a woman I trusted beyond reason.
“Good boy,” she said, yanking my head back.
Another jerk rocketed through my cock at her words, and the praise slut inside me sat up at attention. I liked earning her affection. I liked when she handled me like this.
“Now, get up and walk down the hallway to my old room. When you get there, take off your clothes and kneel on the pillow on the floor.” She let me go as I pushed to my feet, attempting to play it cool by not sprinting down the hallway to do her bidding. Her degrading giggle indicated I hadn’t done a very good job.
I ripped my shirt over my head as soon as I got inside the room, kicking my boots off by the heels. I nearly lost my balance and fell over, but once I had those off, my jeans went next. I thought about leaving my boxers on. She had said we weren’t going to break my streak, so I didn’t want to be standing around with my dick hanging out. But she had told me to get naked, so I pushed my underwear to the ground and stepped out of them.
Then, I spotted the red cushion on the ground, perfectly sized for someone to kneel. Giving myself one last chance to bail out, I eyed the door and swallowed down my cowardice.
I want this. It’s gonna be fun.
I dropped to my knees, rested my hands on my thighs, and waited for my Mistress to come do her worst. Heartbeats pounded in my chest like a bass drum as I looked around. A metal St. Andrew’s Cross stood in the corner with padded cuffs at the end of each part of the X . A spanking bench sat next to that, the leather seemingly supple and unused though I knew better. I wondered how many asses that thing had seen. A rainbow display of ropes hung on the wall at my side and the dresser under that had all its drawers closed, but I could’ve guessed what treasures lay protected behind its wood. If she’d asked about pegging, she must have a strap, and my muscles quaked at the thought I might see it one day.
I took a deep breath to calm my anticipation. This was all part of the scene—drawing it out, making me wait, using my time against me. After all, the teasing was half the fun.
A fucking million years later, V finally walked down the hallway, the echoes of her boots thumping in time with my pulse. She rounded the door and slapped the crop in her other hand, raising a dark eyebrow as she assessed me.
“I have to say, Hudson,” she started, taking a few steps toward me, “I did not think you would be so obedient right away.” Reaching the business end of her tool out to me again, she glided the cool leather down one side of my cheek before going to the other. “I thought I’d have to train you at least a little bit.”
I swallowed, resisting the urge to talk back.
“Look at how beautiful you are on your knees for me.” Mistress shook her head and squatted down so we were eye level, her gaze surprisingly gentle despite the horrors she must have planned for my ass.
I preened at the compliment, my cheeks burning, a hot flush going down my neck and over my chest. She reached out to trace a finger over the circular scar on my shoulder where I’d been shot two years ago. Chills erupted over my skin when she dragged it farther down to the one we shared, the one that meant I’d saved her life.
“You really are amazing,” she murmured. “You know that?”
For one heart-shattering moment, I met her gaze and saw adoration behind it. This wasn’t supposed to be that type of scene. She wasn’t supposed to shower me with pretty words.
Then, she grabbed my chin between her index finger and her thumb, forcing my head to tilt up to face her. “So self-sacrificing. Such a fucking martyr.” Her words had turned angry and vicious, fuck yeah, and the sneer in her eyes hinted it wasn’t good I was those things. “Get up.”
I shoved to my feet like my ass was on fire.
“Go stand in front of the cross.” She nodded toward the metal apparatus, and I went, stretching my arms out and spreading my legs. My muscles trembled when she reached up to attach the restraints, circling the furry cuffs around my wrists before checking the tightness to make sure it wouldn’t cut off my circulation. She squatted behind me to do the same to my legs, and I tightened my thighs to keep from shivering. “Are you cold? You can answer.”
“No, Mistress,” I said, although the winter draft coming in from the window breezed across my flesh and pebbled my nipples. Luckily, I was a grower and a shower, so I didn’t have to worry about my dick shriveling up.
“Hmm.” She dragged her fingertips up the back of my legs, over my ass, and across my spine, her nails adding to the prickling goose bumps. My shoulders shook, and I took a deep breath in through my nose to try to calm my nerves. “Now, I remember you saying something about a cat-o’-nine-tails and clothespins.”
I cleared my throat and nodded, grabbing the top of the cross to brace myself. She hadn’t told me to answer, so I stayed quiet as she walked to her dresser, seemingly exchanging the crop for something else. I couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out when she came back and massaged my shoulders, rubbing her talented palms down my ribs and back up again. I melted into the contact, relishing in how good it felt to have someone else touching me.
The cool kiss of leather straps dangled over my deltoids, drifting from side to side as I firmed my stance.
“Tell me your safeword again.” She leaned in to press her lips against the nape of my neck.
“Full house,” I answered.
“Good boy. Keep it close, just in case.” Cool air rushed in when she stepped back, making me quiver before the hiss of disrupted atmosphere preceded a loud crack. I jumped at the sharp zing on my ass, sucking in a breath because she’d gone zero to a hundred. No warm-up. No preamble. Just right into a five on the pain scale.
Fuuuck me.
The ache that came afterward made me sigh and melt into the X-frame.
“Oh, I think he likes it,” she teased with a giggle.
My heart jumped at the sound of her lighthearted taunt, my balls seizing as she brought the leather straps down on my other cheek, harder this time, making me groan. God, I fucking loved it, and I wanted more. I arched my back, sticking my ass out in invitation, purposely showing her how much I ached for it.
She gave it to me. She alternated soft taps with hard zings that had me panting and sweating much quicker than I would have thought. My cock strained in front of me, leaking precum from the tip, and every time she said something degrading, I almost came all over myself.
“Look at how pink your cute little ass gets,” she said, dragging her nails across my butt in deep scratches that would certainly leave marks. I leaned into it, which only made her laugh. Then, she spanked me. Hard. I gasped and collapsed against the cross, jostling my restraints. “Such a depraved pervert, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come without touching you.”
I blew a small chuckle through my nose, knowing I was moments away from that very thing happening. My dick throbbed painfully, desperate for attention she wouldn’t give it. I’d never felt more out of control than that moment, like I’d have no say over whether I shot spunk all over the place. My fate, and my penis’s, were in her capable hands, and there was no place I’d rather be.
“Let’s see how you like this, huh?” Her boots sounded toward the dresser, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her pulling the top drawer out. She reached inside, returning with a handful of wooden clothespins and a long leather whip with a pink handle.
I gulped and tried not to get too excited, but that went out the door when she circled in front of me and grinned, her eyes sparkling so bright, I thought she might be the one to come in her pants unprompted. She held my stare while she fastened a pin to the skin over my ribs, just under my armpit.
“Ahh.” The groan barreled over my lips, a surge of euphoric agony twisting down that side of my body, making me curl into the zing.
“Too much?” She raised her eyebrows and paused. “Do you need to say something?”
Swallowing against a dry throat, I shook my head and straightened. “No, Mistress.”
“Good boy.” She smiled and added another just under the first one. Then a second and a third. The pinch stung at first in a delicate, passionate way, but then dissipated when she went to the other side and did the same thing. She glanced down at my nipples, running her fingers over my chest before scratching the sensitive skin with her claws. I braced myself as she lifted the wood to the right and fixed it in place.
Fuuuccckkk ...
It smarted in the best way possible, and my lower stomach twisted with arousal. I didn’t know why the pain turned me on so much; I’d learned a long time ago not to look too closely at that. It was best to revel in my kinks without thinking about the reasons why they were there in the first place. I repeated this to myself when she put another clothespin on the other nipple before squatting down to put more on the insides of my thighs. I watched her while she worked, and when she stopped to focus on my balls, I sucked in a breath, thinking she planned to attach a few there as well.
Instead, she just looked up at me and stood, running her nails up my abs to my pecs and over my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” Her voice drizzled over me like honey, sweet and decadent and soothing.
I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
She ran the back of her knuckles down the side of my face in a move too endearing for what she’d been thinking of doing to my nut sack only moments ago. “You’re a good man, Hudson.”
I hummed out an appreciative sigh while she circled around to my back, cracking the whip through the air to let me know what was coming. The spots where the clothespins pinched throbbed in time with my pulse, the initial sharpness having worn away. But I knew that wasn’t the height of that agony. No, that would come when she finally wrenched them off.
The first time she brought the whip down on my back, I sucked in a harsh breath and sagged in relief. Pain erupted over my shoulders and down my spine, echoing into my legs and arms. But fuck, I loved the torture. My toes curled, my knees shook, and my cock wept, inching closer to the release that had been building all fucking day.
She worked me over, alternating desperate flogs with her soft palm, rubbing circles over my twitching muscles. When she brought the leather down on the left side of clothespins, ripping them off in one swipe, I cried out and curled in on myself. It burned in a wonderful display of ecstasy, cascading over my chest and up the back of my neck, and I prayed I had bruises in the morning. She did it to the other side and I clamped my eyes shut, fisting my fingers and pushing up on the balls of my feet.
“Fucking Christ,” I whispered, trying my best to keep my voice low enough that she might not hear it. But she did. She stepped closer, grabbed my hair, and ripped my head back. My scalp prickled as I arched into the sharp pang.
“What was that?” she asked with a vicious snarl. “Did you call me Christ?”
I moaned, unable to say complete sentences though I knew she wanted an answer. My cock dripped, my hands tingled, and my balls were practically in my stomach. I ached to come. I needed release.
“No, Mistress.” My lips could barely form the syllables.
“Oh, good,” she said. “You know my name, pretty boy. That’s the only one you need to call.”
Carnal need hit me like a freight train, and I couldn’t stop the shaking that came after it. Never in my life had I wanted someone more, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of the eight months I’d spent whacking it or the beautiful woman who held my entire life in the palm of her hand. The world faded away. Suddenly, there was no more SRMC or Bear or long list of Montgomerys that would beat my face in if they found out. It was only me and V and the magic she created on my back.
She walked to my front again, staring up at me while she knocked the pins off my legs with the handle of the whip. I tugged against the cuffs and let out an exhale that weighed a ton. Now, I only had the ones on my nipples, and they were going to hurt the worst. I wanted them to.
My mind started to fog, all of the misery from her attention having launched me into a dopamine-filled haze much more potent than any bud I’d ever smoked or whiskey I’d ever drank. Subspace. Nothing compared to it. Nothing. And when she flicked the wooden clamp on the right, a harsh breath whooshed out of my lungs from the wicked heat that lanced down to my dick.
“I’m going to bite my name into your back, Hudson,” she said. “And then I’m going to push you to your knees and ride your face.”
The vicious wave of arousal that hit me in the nuts almost made me bust. I had to clench my eyes together to keep it from happening. She hadn’t forbidden me to come, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself during our first scene. Sure, we had said this didn’t have to be sexual, and maybe if I hadn’t responded like a teenager getting my cock wet for the first time, it might not have gone this way.
“Only then are you allowed to release,” she continued, flicking the clothespin on the left. “Do you want to keep these on or rip them off now? Speak.”
“Now, Mistress,” I said, desperate to do what she described. Sparks of adrenaline-laced excruciation rushed through my torso when she ripped the first one off.
I groaned and sagged against the cuffs, my knees buckling. Then, she did it to the next one and I threw my head back, moaning at how much it turned me on. My cock jerked and I canted my hips, desperate for more friction to relieve the pressure but finding nothing.
“Hold still.” She circled around to my back, rubbing the tender skin like one might do when approaching a skittish horse. Her body heat radiated into mine when she stepped closer, her soft corset cool against my overheated spine. Then, she sank her teeth into my trap muscle by my shoulder, sucking it long enough to leave a mark before ripping her mouth away. V moved lower, biting her way toward the center of my spine at the base of my back before doing the same toward my other shoulder.
Based on the stings and cool drips of saliva left behind, she’d made a huge V of hickeys, and if I wasn’t close to losing it before, I would have been after that. It was territorial and possessive in a way no one had ever been over me, and I couldn’t wait to check out the results in the mirror. Of all the marks she left, I hoped those lasted the longest.
“There we go.” She ran her hands over it a few times, scratching her nails down the pattern to connect her teeth marks. “Now, if any of those bitches even thinks about touching you, they’ll know who’s going to come after them.”
Fucking. Hell.
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I tried to say, confused when my lips wouldn’t cooperate.
“Shhhhh,” she said, planting delicate kisses over the skin she’d just destroyed while she unhooked the cuffs on my wrists. “Just enjoy this.”
I curled my hands into fists as soon as I could bring them down and stepped away from the cross once she’d unhooked my ankles. Thank God she put one of my arms over her shoulders and helped me to the ground because the second I tried to walk, my legs shook harder than I could manage.
The world suddenly seemed softer, my life not quite as hectic. My body pulsed with agitation, every mark and bruise and scuff pounding in time with my heart. But even that added to the buzz behind my eyes.
I sat back on my heels, put my hands on my thighs, and stared up at my Mistress—beautiful, ethereal V. No one else could have given me this pleasure like this. Only she knew how to work me over and make me pay for it. And now, I got my reward.
“You can stroke yourself,” she said, “but you’re not allowed to come before you make me come. Understood?”
I nodded, but she grabbed my chin and forced my head up so I had to meet her gaze with the unfocused one of my own.
“Say yes,” she said.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said, grabbing at my straining cock, squeezing the tip enough to make me wince.
“Good.” She pushed the bottom piece of her costume to the ground before stepping out of it. I licked my lips when she walked toward me, all long legs and fishnet stockings. I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and stared up at her, waiting for her to rub that pretty little clit in between my lips.
When she got close enough, she grabbed my hair and dragged my face to her cunt. I sank in like a starved man, licking her from opening to tip, relishing in the deep noises that poured out of her throat. God, she tasted good—like strawberries and pussy and sweat. I wanted to roll around in her scent to mark myself with it. I wanted it buried in my skin so that anyone else that tried to get close to me would know she’d laid claim. I wanted to implant my own smell into her molecules so that no one would dare touch her again. I may have liked to be dominated in the bedroom, but out in the real world, I was six foot five inches and two hundred and fifty pounds of kick ass. No one would touch her without going through me first.
She dug her nails deeper into my thick locks and rocked against my face, moaning when I pulled her clit into my mouth and sucked it like a dick.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, right there.”
“May I finger you, Mistress?” I traced my free hand up the inside of her thigh, cupping the skin close to her pussy without touching it.
“Do it,” she said.
I nudged my digit inside her warm, wet pussy, slowly at first. Fuck, she was tight, and I sighed, imagining what it would feel like to get my cock inside her for the first time. The sex we’d have would probably rock my fucking world and leave me ruined for anyone else. But I didn’t want to think about that. I squeezed my dick with one hand, fucked her with the other, and focused on lapping at her delicious, sensitive flesh.
“Fuck, I’m close,” she said. “Keep doing that. Keep?—”
I followed directions like a star student, licking and sucking and rolling her around in my mouth like the sweetest candy in the world. She clamped my hair harder, holding me in the spot she wanted while her body tightened, indicating her release. When it flooded my mouth, I lapped that up, too, sucking down whatever she’d give me, desperate to consume all of it. I’d never been so overjoyed to have a person come on my face, not once in my whole life.
Once she’d had her fill, she stepped back and ran her palms over my head while I focused on my own orgasm. It wouldn’t take much. I brought the fingers that had been inside her to my mouth and sucked them clean, and as her decadent taste slid down the back of my throat, I burst open at the seams. Come flew out of my cock harder and faster than it ever had before, including the night at the clubhouse.
My vision darkened. My mind went blank. I fell forward on my free hand, panting and gasping and struggling to see straight as I fucked my own fist through it.
“There it is, huh?” Verona kneeled in front of me, cupping my cheeks while I broke apart. My orgasm hit me in the gut, knocking my entire soul out of my body before ripping it back home again.
When I could finally suck in a deep breath, I sat back on my heels and rubbed my face, trying to get my fucking shit together again.
“Are you okay, Hollywood?” V stroked my chest, down to my torso, and back up again, using touch to ground me in the present, to bring me back to reality.
“I’m fucking great.” I smiled as I struggled to focus on her. She swam in my vision, blurry and shiny like Christmas lights in the snow. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“All right,” she said with a laugh, pulling me into a hug with her arms wrapped around my neck, cradling my head like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You’re a quick trigger for subspace. Good to know.”
“I really like you, V,” I muttered, my lips practically numb. Like she’d said, I’d fully submerged into my endorphins, letting them pull me into that liminal weightless feeling where the world became sparkly and none of my issues mattered anymore. “I would eat your pussy every morning if you’d let me.”
That made her giggle harder as she kissed across my forehead to my temples and down my cheeks, peppering my skin with affection. When she got to my mouth, she held my chin in place so she could press her warm, soft lips to mine.
It was delicate and compassionate compared to what she’d done to my body, but it meant everything to me. She didn’t see me as a piece of meat and she wouldn’t wreck me only to leave me alone in subspace on the cold wooden floor. No, V stayed with me until it passed, kissing my mouth and my neck and my face, silently telling me she cared for me despite the damage she’d done.
Perhaps it was the buzz or perhaps it was fifteen years of friendship suddenly collapsing into something new, but when she pulled away to stare in my eyes, I saw my future in hers.
I saw kids and a house and a big wedding with her family. I saw her tying me up for the rest of my life and taking out all of her frustrations on my ass. I saw everything I’d ever wanted and she was the one who could give it me.
Or rather ... I could give it to her. We could give it to each other.
I’d never been so sure about anything ever before.