Page 16

Jeff

“Do you like baseball?”

Vivian blinked at me like she wasn’t sure it was a real question. I tilted my head toward the living room. “The Padres are on. Postseason.”

She nodded. “I—I’ve never really watched.”

“Not even when you were little?”

“No.”

That surprised me. Most people grew up with at least a game on in the background on a Sunday afternoon. What the hell kind of dad didn’t introduce his kid to baseball?

That’s when it dawned on me. Maybe she never had a dad. That might also explain some things.

I stood and walked to the living room, flipping on the TV as I sat on the couch. She followed behind and stepped toward the sofa like she was going to sit next to me.

“What are you doing?”

She froze.

I tsked and shook my head as I pointed to the floor.

“Whores belong on the floor.” I handed her a pillow similar to the one she’d knelt on last night. “On this. And bend over.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, like maybe she was expecting me to say, “Just kidding.”

I wasn’t.

I kept my expression stern, and she moved to the pillow, then leaned forward, hands flat on the floor, ass in the air to present herself like the obedient little thing she was turning out to be.

“Good whore,” I murmured as I reached for the bigger plug I’d set aside for today. “Gonna stretch you a bit more,” I said as I lubed the metal. “You’re not ready for my cock back here yet, but you will be.”

The plug slid in with a slow push, and her breath hitched. I gave it a small twist, then tapped it to make sure it was in.

“Keep it in. If it falls out, I’ll make you lick it clean.”

She didn’t say a word. Just got back into position on the floor like nothing had happened.

I stared at the screen, pretending to focus on the game, but my cock was already getting hard, and not because of the score.

Because of the fact that I could do anything I wanted to her.

Because I owned her.

She stayed on the pillow at my feet, naked, quiet, and still while I watched the game.

I absentmindedly reached down to stroke her hair like she was a good pet, and she closed her eyes at my touch.

Like she liked it.

Like she liked me . But I knew that wasn’t possible.

She couldn’t. I wouldn’t let her.

This wasn’t about affection, it was about ownership. Nothing else.

So, when my cock stirred again half an inning later, I told myself it wasn’t from lust. It was power.

Power to take her whenever I wanted.

I set the remote down and snapped my fingers. “Up.”

She stood without question.

“Over the arm of the couch. Now.”

She bent over, and I pulled the plug from her, then tossed it on the cushion beside us before reaching for the lube. After giving myself a quick stroke, I lined up and shoved in where the plug had stretched her, slow but relentless, until I bottomed out in her ass.

“Fuck. So tight,” I growled as I sank in deeper. “Taking it like you were made for this.”

She whimpered into the couch, and I reached around to find her clit, already slick and swollen. Just a few circles, and she moaned, “So good.”

I grinned against her shoulder but kept my voice stern. “You better not come, whore.”

Her body quivered beneath me. I could feel how close she was.

I leaned over her back, my voice a low threat against her ear as I repeated myself. “Don’t you dare fucking come.”

A muffled moan escaped her throat, and her fingers clutched the cushion, but she obeyed.

Gripping her hips, I fucked her hard, rough, and deep. No rhythm. No tenderness. Just pure, brutal possession.

She didn't cry or beg. Just took it like she was supposed to.

I drove into her one final time and held her tight against my hips as I buried my cock deep and emptied my balls inside her ass.

When I pulled out, I grabbed the plug and shoved it back in place, sealing my cum inside her.

“Stay like that.”

She nodded once, hair tangled, lips parted.

I took my seat and grabbed the remote, flipping the game back on.

“You can sit back down,” I said without looking at her.

She didn’t move right away, and I could tell she wanted to challenge me. But after a beat, she thought better of it and settled on the pillow at my feet.

Smart girl.

And that’s how I watched the rest of the inning—with her plugged, used, and silent on the floor, while I’d bet my paycheck she was dripping with need.

Too bad.

I came; it didn’t matter that she hadn’t.

****

Vivian

By the time he finally looked at his watch and stood, my ass was half-numb from sitting in a position that kept the plug in. But my pussy was still throbbing.

“It’s four forty-five. Go get your things; the club’s car will be here at five to take you home.”

I struggled to get up, and he reached down to offer me a hand. Once I was upright, he pressed on my shoulders to bend me over the couch. Without a word, he removed the red gem from my ass. The minute it was free, his cum spilled down my thighs.

He didn’t seem to care and just nodded toward the doorway leading to the stairs, like I was dismissed.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t react. Simply turned and headed to get my things while his semen ran down my legs as if it was an everyday occurrence.

I shut the guest room door behind me and leaned against it. I was horny and pissed that I couldn’t do anything about it. And his cum leaking down my thighs had turned cold and sticky, which seemed appropriate.

In the bathroom, I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under hot water, then cleaned myself up as best I could before toweling dry.

The collar stayed on. Of course it did. He’d told me I wasn’t to take it off until our contract ended.

Back in the bedroom, I opened my overnight bag and pulled out the olive-green dress I’d packed.

It was tight, showed an ample amount of cleavage, had long sleeves, and the hem hit just above the knee.

I slipped into it and grabbed clean underwear, but even as I pulled the silky panties on, I knew I was breaking one of his rules.

Too fucking bad.

I guess he should have taken care of my needs if he wanted my pussy exposed and available so badly.

Fucking asshole.

I didn’t care what his rules were; I was using my vibrator when I got home.

He could suck it.

~~~~

I made my way downstairs, trying to ignore the ache between my legs and the slickness I could still feel even after cleaning up. I was dressed, packed, and going home to have a revenge date with my vibrator, because fuck him for leaving me this way.

At least, that was the plan.

Jeff was waiting in the entry, leaning one shoulder against the stair railing. His gaze dropped, and I could tell the moment he spotted the panty line beneath my dress.

“You’re wearing underwear,” he said flatly.

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t like I could deny it.

He stepped forward, and in two strides, he was on me. His fingers hooked the waistband beneath my dress and yanked—hard. The panties tore and dropped to the floor.

“Your holes stay available to me. Always. Don’t make me tell you that again.”

I was pissed enough that my mouth started working before my brain caught up.

I raised my chin and defiantly asked, “Or what?”

He shook his head and muttered, “Oh, little girl…” Then without another word, he shoved my back against the door. His hand closed around my throat—not hard, just firm enough to remind me who was in control.

My breath caught as he hiked up the hem of my dress.

“You think you’re going to walk out of here like you’re in charge?”

His fingers slid between my thighs and found me soaked. He didn’t smile or gloat. Just shoved two fingers inside me while his thumb pressed down on my clit.

I gasped, clinging to his forearm as my knees buckled. I was so close it was pathetic.

“Take it,” he snarled. “Come now, or not at all.”

It only took a few rough strokes, and my body shattered against his hand. I cried out, holding on to him in order to stay upright.

He held me there a moment, then withdrew his fingers and wiped them down my thigh, slow and deliberate.

“Don’t ever sass me again. Do you understand? Or I’ll deny you another orgasm for the rest of our time together.”

The only thing I could do was murmur, “Yes, Sir,” while he picked up my bag and opened the door.

****

Jeff

I grabbed her overnight bag and walked outside, not bothering to wait to see if she followed me.

The town car waited in the circular drive with the driver standing beside it in a dark suit and cap. It was a different one than we’d had on Friday. He opened the back door when he saw us walk down the steps.

Vivian didn’t say anything, just walked with her chin high and her mouth tight.

Her defiant energy radiated off her, and I didn’t bother to try and understand why that turned me on so fucking much.

She breezed past me without so much as a, “See you next weekend,” and slid into the backseat, smoothing her skirt and shifting to sit primly.

Oh, I don’t think so.

I leaned into the back seat and grabbed her knees, opening them wide.

“Not like that. Keep your legs spread the whole ride.”

Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t speak. Just kept her thighs wide.

I reached under the hem of her dress and dragged it up to her waist, baring her freshly fingered cunt. “You leave it like this. Don’t you dare close your legs.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond, although if looks could kill...

“And don’t forget—you’re expected to wear your collar even when you’re not here. And you better not touch yourself. At all. You come when I say, not before.”

She gave the smallest nod but looked straight ahead, refusing to spare a glance in my direction.

I stood and met the driver’s eyes.

“She’s mine. You can look, but you better not touch. Don’t even fucking speak to her.”

The man gave a tight nod and got in the driver’s seat, and I shut the door and stepped back.

I watched the taillights disappear down my drive and told myself it was good she was gone.

I didn’t need her here, distracting me when I was supposed to be working.

Nor did I need her sassy mouth, or the way she looked at me like I was something more than the man who bought her.

She was just a whore I paid to use for a month. That’s all.

She didn’t mean anything to me.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.