Dominated by the Heir Pt. 03
“You’re in trouble now, little slave.” He pulled from inside me and took a few steps backward, pulling the leash so I sat up.
My hands dug into the bedding, though it didn’t actually provide any stability. The yank to my collar did hold me in place, though. Now, I realized everything I’d been missing with my five minute, missionary-only boyfriend. This man, who only wanted me to know him as Master, had no desire to keep things boring. His incessant ramming and angling to hit that perfect spot brought me to a bliss I only ever experienced while alone with my vibrator.
That thought of how amazing he was at fucking became more true when he stopped and flipped me over, making me feel the emptiness without him inside me. I needed more. My legs spread wide, bidding him to enter me. The way he towered over me as he positioned between my thighs made him look like the Master he demanded me to call him.
“You don’t cum until I give you permission.” Even now, his dominant stare locked on me, daring me to do something to receive punishment. His hand turned, coiling the cord attached to the collar around it. “Understand, slave?”
The lingering sting to my backside still buzzed, and I had no desire to be punished. “Yes.” I tensed as his manhood rammed hilt deep into me. Had he not grabbed my hip, his hard thrust would have sent me further onto the bed.
“Yes, what?” The words were spoken through clenched teeth.
“Master,” I breathed, followed by a gasp.
Instead of continuing to pump into me, he held in place, tip of his cock all the way against my cervix. “Don’t forget again!”
He reached down to circle his thumb over my nub, slow and light but dangerously pleasing enough to bring me release. I loved and hated the sensation; the need for climax, but fear of punishment. He would bring it so he had the right to respond to the disobedience.
Dark eyes scanned my parted lips and worried brow, both of which gave away my inability to hold out much longer. Even the arch of my back must have delighted him in how his featherlight touch held so much control over me.
Then the bliss I’d attempted to refuse myself came in full force. What would happen? How would he react to my response to him?
When my hips convulsed, he pulled back and slammed into my contracting walls. This time, he also lost control over his ability to delay the inevitable. The depth he held himself brought a whimper to my lips, yet delighted me at the same time.
“You’re in trouble now, little slave.” He pulled from inside me and took a few steps backward, pulling the leash so I sat up. “Clean me,” he snapped.
I had no clue what that meant, but I assumed he needed a shower. When I attempted to rise, he pulled downward on the cord, pulling my collar. This would prove annoying if he planned to keep me on this leash.
“With your mouth.” He enunciated every word as he continued to pull low enough I had to bend downward.
I lowered onto my knees in front of him, casting a questioning glance upward. The act repulsed me, his demand excited me, and the danger of punishment motivated me to do exactly as he ordered.
As an obedient human pet on a leash, I gripped his still-firm cock and leaned forward to lick the tip. Hopefully that might be enough. His palm to the back of my head corrected my wish not to taste myself on him.
“You’ll learn to love it.” He thrust into my mouth until my face made contact with his pelvis. The next moan had my fluttering gaze on his smug expression. “Good girl.”
The satisfaction of his delighted me, sending me into a high. I hadn’t experienced that kind of praise from anyone — ever. This inescapable, absolutely perfect man turned pain and fear into something that would end in reward.
Fuck whatever reasons he came for, they didn’t matter to me in the least. Nothing mattered so much as that expression on his face and the words of praise. Not to mention the satisfaction of feeling his well-earned seed drip from my inner folds.
My tongue twirled and worked as I bobbed over the softening manhood. If he thought I would stop on my own accord, he was wrong. I continued until the moment he stole his cock from me. That could only end in disappointment.
“Hands behind your back and chest presented upward,” he ordered.
I obeyed, instantly uncertain as he studied my form and shook his head.
He reached down, cupping my chin and rubbing his thumb on my lower lip. “You have a lot to learn, little slave.” He side-stepped past me and leaned over the bed, returning with the rope I’d seen upon arrival in the room.
I swallowed, already filled with unease.
He returned to where he’d been in front of me. “Stand and turn around — not like that,” he said as I leaned onto my palms to rise. “Hands remain behind you.”
Though difficult to balance, I obeyed, stopping so close in front of him, his sweet breath rolled down my forehead. I licked my lips, questioning what might happen if I kissed him. The curiosity quickly turned to regret when his arm reared back, and the rope landed on my backside.
“Obey me,” he commanded, and I did, spinning as quickly as possible. “Hands gripping above your elbows.”
Again, this time without hesitation or question, I did as ordered. I had to hope he accepted me in this position; that he wasn’t currently disappointed. Instead of barking another order, I felt the rope beginning to wrap over a wrist, crisscrossing as he wrapped it around the connected forearm.
Once the rope wove my forearms and around my elbows, his fingertips roved down my right side, palm joining over the curve of my rear as he explored downward. Even if I wanted to fight the tickling sensation or the way the other hand joined in to spread both cheeks, I couldn’t.
“The next time you disobey me, I’m going to own this as well.” The gentle touch went to my tight hole. “And I won’t be gentle.”
Read Part One:






