A Collection of Spicy Scenes, Volume 1

Isaac

Itwist my hands on the leather steering wheel of my Porsche Carrera GT. It’s fucking freezing outside, but the heated seats and my nerves are making my back sweat. I look out of the window as we pull up to one of the last street lights before taking a private road to my home.

I take a glance at my kitten. She’s looking out of the window, twisting her fingers in her lap nervously. Her back is stick straight, and she looks like she’s not even breathing.

The first thing she’s going to do when we get home is drink. A large glass of sauvignon will do her well. I think I’ll make stuffed peppers to go with it. I’m going to need to occupy myself while she gets accustomed to her new role and new environment.

I didn’t imagine her taking it so hard. She’s completely changed before my eyes. The confidence is gone, and the sexual tension between us has vanished.

She’s scared, quiet. She hasn’t said a word other than yes. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and her face still flushed from crying.

The drive home has been silent, but I’m ready to change that.

As much as I feel for her, I’m still excited.

Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, filling me with an electric spark.

I’ve waited so long for her, to have her here.

I’m ready to show her what she’s truly capable of. And even more so, what I’m capable of.

“Do you like to cook?” I ask her. It’s been almost two weeks of seeing her every night.

But I’ve barely learned much about her, other than her desires and a bit about her past. Of course I know much more than she’s told me.

But the finer details, those are important and I need her to open up to me so I can learn them.

“I do, Master,” she answers softly. There’s a trace of fear in her voice.

“Are you good at it?” I cock a brow, giving her a humorous look as I slow the car at a stop sign. The hum of the engine vibrates up my back and fills the car with a quiet purr.

She opens her mouth and almost hesitates, but she quickly answers, “No.”

I let out an easy chuckle. “That’s more than alright, kitten.”

Her relief in my response is evident. “I enjoy cooking. I want you to help me though.”

“Yes, Master,” she says with a lighter voice than she’s had all day.

“We’re going to go over the rules and what’s required of you in the house while I make the sauce,” I say easily, pulling up to my house, the car jostling slightly as I drive up the driveway and wait for the garage to open.

I have a decent collection of cars. An expensive but carefully curated collection.

Katia sucks in a breath as she takes in my home.

It’s simple. I like simplicity, and the modern clean lines.

The house itself is very much like a cabin, except instead of stacks of logs there are large sheets of glass on the front.

Being so far away from anyone else affords me the luxury of having privacy while also being able to expose my home.

The entire front of the house is open to the deep woods we’re nestled in.

I own the ten acres the house sits on, so it will always be like this. Quiet, serene and one with nature.

The soft grey sky disappears as I pull into the garage and quickly park the car.

“Come, kitten, come see your new home.”

I slip off my jacket as I lead her into the open kitchen. I have to take off the cufflinks in order to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. I don’t enjoy wearing a suit. I'd much rather be in jeans. But Club X has a strict dress code. Thank fuck we won’t be going there anymore.

Every step she takes seems deliberate. She’s on edge and waiting for something. Maybe waiting for my demeanor to change? I’m not sure.

“Have a seat,” I tell her easily, turning my back to her as she climbs onto the bar height chair at the granite island.

“I need to know your daily schedule and the plans you have every day for the next thirty days that I have you.” I continue to talk with my back to her, letting her get comfortable without having to worry about the possibility of me scrutinizing her.

I am. I’m taking in every little move and change. The angles of her body and the way she’s presenting herself. But it’s not for the reason she thinks.

I’m not judging her. I’m gauging her emotions. And so far it’s worse than I anticipated. It’s like the last two weeks haven’t happened.

I pluck three tomatoes from the basket next to the sink and set them down on a wood cutting board.

“Start with tomorrow.”

“I have work. From seven in the morning until seven at night.” She clears her throat slightly, and I can hear the slight squeak of the chair moving under her weight. “That’s all I have planned.”

“And the next day?”

“The same. Every day.”

“And the holidays?” I ask as I scrape the knife across the board, pushing the first diced tomato to the side.

“Nothing. Just work.”

The knife slices easily through the tomato and hits the cutting board. I’m still for a moment. I know her mother has sent her messages.

“You weren’t invited to go anywhere with family?” I ask as I grab a hand towel off of the counter, wiping the juice from my fingers.

“I was.”

“And?” I ask, my eyebrow raised. She’s a very lucky girl she didn’t lie to me.

“And I said I couldn’t go.”

“I see, and where was it that you were invited to go?” I ask her.

“To see my parents a few hours away.” She shakes her head slightly, dismissing the invitation. “They won’t be expecting-”

“We’ll both be attending,” I say, cutting her off.

I don’t know why I made the decision so quickly.

I hadn’t decided on whether or not I’d be going.

But she sure as fuck is. She’s in desperate need of contact and conversation in person.

From what I can tell, all of her friendships are online. I want more for her.

And it should start with her parents.

She stiffens in her chair, but she nods her head and says, “Yes, Master.”

“And for New Year's?” I ask her.

“I have no plans, nor was I invited to anything.” Her voice is quiet, but clear.

“We’ll spend that together then,” I announce and turn my back to her again to continue dicing the tomatoes.

A moment later I pipe up and say, “Well, that’s easy enough. You’ll find someone else to work on the days I have off.”

She’s quiet until I turn to look over my shoulder. “Yes, Master.”

I can’t stand this tension anymore.

She needs to get off. That’ll calm her ass down.

“Kitten,” I say and wipe off the blade and gently set it down, putting dinner on hold. “Come here.”

I take a look at the utensils and kitchen tools, my eyes scanning them to find something useful. Finally, I settle on a French rolling pin. It’s a pale hard marble and cold to the touch, but it’ll do nicely.

“Strip,” I tell her as she stands to my left.

She’s barely wearing any clothing at all.

Without her coat, all she has on is a sheer black dress with skimpy straps that end mid-thigh, and a lace pair of panties.

She slips the straps down her shoulders and the thin piece of fabric pools at her feet into a puddle of shiny black.

Her nipples instantly harden. And so does my dick.

I lean forward, taking one of her pale rose nipples into my mouth and gripping both of her wrists in my hands as she attempts to pull her thong down her thighs.

She gasps at my quick movements and pushes her chest into my face. Like a good girl. I pull back, letting her nipple pop out of my mouth and then swirl my tongue around the other.

“Let go,” I command her and in that instant she does, immediately releasing her grip on the lacy straps of her underwear.

I take a step back and look at her.

“You’re gorgeous, Katia.” The small intake of air and slight flush to her cheeks warms me. It touches a cold part of my soul I’m not used to feeling. I shake off the sensation and concentrate on the matter at hand.

“You will never wear those again. Or any underwear.” I loop my thumb around the straps and easily rip through the lace, shredding the sides of her thong and letting them fall to the floor.

My dick stirs with desire as her lips part in shock. “Your cunt and ass will always be available to me. Easily.”

I trail my middle finger along her lower lip, and she obediently opens her mouth.

“And your mouth.” I slip my finger into her hot mouth.

I don’t have to tell her to suck; she greedily suctions her lips around my finger, keeping her hands at her side and hollowing her cheeks.

Her tongue massages the underside of my finger as she closes her eyes and moans.

Fuck! She’s so fucking sexy. She has no idea what she does to me. “Ah ah, kitten,” I admonish her, pulling my finger away and turning back toward the counter. “I have something else for you to suck.”

I grab the rolling pin, and it’s cold and smooth. She’s really going to want to heat this up.

Fear flashes in her eyes for a moment, but I ignore it.

I’ll never hurt her. Not that way she’s thinking.

“Suck on this,” I tell her, placing the pin to her lips.

There are no handles, just one long smooth pin.

She has to stretch her jaw a little more than my finger, but the pin itself isn’t very wide.

I push the pin in a bit farther, letting her take a few inches and rock it in and out of her mouth. “Get it hot, kitten. Suck it like it’s my cock.” With my left hand I cup her pussy and reward her by pinching her clit and rolling it between my fingers.

Her brows pinch, and she moans the softest I’ve ever heard while taking a little more of the pin deeper into her mouth. “Do you remember how you took me?” I ask her.

She tries to push more of the pin in, but I stop her.

The head of the pin is blunt and it’ll hurt her throat.

I don’t want that. “No more.” I stop her, pulling it back and releasing her clit to grab her throat.

The lust vanishes from her eyes, realizing she’s done something wrong.

“You only get a few inches. Don’t be greedy,” I add playfully to lessen her anxiety.