Cries of Penance (10 page)

87

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

Holding my gaze, she smiled and it was a wicked smile because it seemed she could read my mind. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t you, mutt?”

I ground my teeth together to keep from saying a word.

She slid the tip of her cock inside of me, opening me slowly. Too slowly. God, just do it. Get it over with.

She pul ed back out, then pressed in, just the head, not even pushing past the band of muscles that would fight against the intrusion.

“Say you love my cock in your ass.”

“I love your cock in my ass, Mistress.”

She thrust hard. Stretching me. Opening me. She thrust faster, accusing,

“You like being the Dom too much. You like control ing people. You like hurting others.”

“I don’t,” I lied, forgetting to use the word Mistress as the faces of those I’d harmed flashed through my brain, one after another.

I didn’t enjoy it. It sickened me. But I’d done the things I’d done despite how horrendous the tasks were. I’d stomached it. I’d done my job, but I couldn’t tel her that, I couldn’t admit anything of my past to her.

“You caused pain, and you laughed about it.”

“No,” I refuted, suddenly remembering where I was and who I was with.

“Mistress!”

She thrust harder and harder, ripping moans from my throat as the pain I’d caused others and their screams wel ed up from a place in my memory I thought I’d locked down tightly.

“Don’t lie to me.”

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I started shaking then screaming, matching the sound in my head, not because she was hurting me fucking me, but because I’d hurt myself so badly, doing the things I’d done. Irreparable damage. I am damaged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh. God.”

She kept fucking me, even after I started sobbing.

She kept fucking me, even after I’d recovered from whatever breakdown had wrapped me in its grasp for those moments when I’d wailed like an infant. I wanted free, but I couldn’t escape her. I couldn’t escape myself, my memories. I was held down, fucked hard, emotion riding me mercilessly as I was forced to feel al the pain I’d hidden from for so long. “Mistress. Please release me.”

She grabbed my face, pinching my cheeks hard between her fingers before she kissed me cruel y. “You’re the one who came to me, mutt. You said you wanted to be owned, wanted to be control ed. You want to be punished for al your past sins, don’t you?”

God, yes. “Please let me go.”

“I can’t do that. I won’t fail you, mutt.”

She thrust hard and deep, seeming to rip me in half. I screamed and kept screaming but she didn’t release me, not until I became calm. Resigned.

Exhausted.

I lay there knowing that even if she flayed me, it would not cause me enough suffering to make up for al that I’d done. She came. The sound of her pleasure seeming like the sounds of agony etched into my brain, and I knew then what drew me to her.

89

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

We’re the two most injured people in this place. Broken. Soul ess. Do we hope to save each other?

“A rum and Coke.” My thoughts are interrupted by a customer’s order. I go through the motions, serving them, a moment’s distraction from her but then I’m scanning the room, seeking her out and being disappointed again.

My shift is unbearably long and when it is final y over, I want nothing more than my bed. Reaching the upper corridor, I dread walking its length. I have to pass Mistress Morgana’s room to get to my own.

I’m surprised when her door opens just as I pass by and she orders me inside.

I can’t breathe I’m so overwhelmed by her beauty and my need. I watch her close and lock the door, feeling like I am trapped in a dream. Turning to face me, she looks me up and down.

Her eyes are rimmed red and puffy. I think she has been crying, but I don’t ask. I don’t say anything. She unlocks the cage holding my cock in check. “Go shower.”

Dumbfounded, it takes her turning me toward the adjoining bathroom and giving me a shove to get my feet moving. I know I’m going to wake up inside some new nightmare, but for a second I enjoy this dream. I wash my hair and lather my body. I al ow myself to enjoy running my hands over my bare cock. It seems like forever since I’ve touched the smooth flesh of it. My length grows firm, and I am sorely tempted to masturbate, but I don’t. A quick inspection tel s me I’l soon be due a ful body wax, and I decide to make an appointment to have it done as soon as I awaken. I like being hairless.

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I step out of the shower and dry off. I leave the towel behind, and rejoin Mistress Morgana in her room. It is obvious from her posture she is waiting.

I don’t know what to do so choose to kneel at her feet.

Looking up at her, she is even more beautiful than the first time I saw her.

She isn’t strapped on and the lack thereof makes me feel that she has been out tonight. Perhaps, clubbing. She’s heavily made up and wearing a black tea-length velvet dress topped with a leather bustier heavily decorated with metal and buckles. Even her clunky platform combat boots are held closed with dozens of shiny silver buckles. She confirms my suspicions when she sits down on the padded stool in front of her makeup vanity and commands, “Take off my boots and rub my feet. I’ve been dancing for hours, and my feet are kil ing me.”

I crawl nearer and struggle with the many buckles before final y pul ing off the boots that extend wel above her knees. I am surprised by the stockings she wears beneath. Thigh highs, but far from silk. They are a heavy cotton or a cotton-wool blend, striped gray and black. I take my time rol ing them down her smooth, pale legs, enjoying the reveal of skin littered with light freckles. When I have both feet bare and pul ed onto my thighs, I start massaging.

Her head drops back and she moans, but she doesn’t pul away, she doesn’t ask me to stop, even when I think that perhaps the sounds she is making is from pain rather than enjoyment.

I guess, “Your boots are a size too smal , Mistress.”

“Two,” she whispers, not looking at me. “They didn’t have the right size, and I had to have them.”

I chuckle. “Vanity?”

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

She lifts her head enough to look at me. “Vanity is my favorite sin.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “I have lots of favorite sins.”

She pul s her feet from my lap and sits up. I regret my honesty when she turns away from me and faces the mirror. I don’t move for fear of being sent away and am surprised as I watch her. She begins removing her makeup. Using makeup remover and cotton swabs she starts with her eyes, careful y removing her fake eyelashes before erasing the wide dark oval of shadow. She switches to a towelette for the rest of her face. The transformation is amazing.

She’s young. Very young I decide when our gazes clash in the mirror.

Without speaking, she stands and faces me. She unfastens the buckles holding the bustier closed and drops the heavy material to the ground. At her sides, she unzips the zippers hidden into seams and pul s the dress over her head.

I’m stil on my knees when she walks naked and barefoot to the bed. She pul s a smal set of steps out from under the bed to climb onto the high mattress.

Once she is centered on the big bed, looking smal and fragile, more bared than I think few have ever seen her, she asks, “So, are you going to fuck me or is this an unremarkable waste of the rest of my day off?”

I start to stand, think better of it and crawl.

“You are no longer a puppy. I command you to be the man I know you to be.”

I stand and climb into her bed. I don’t know when I’ve ever felt so awkward climbing into bed with a nude woman. Should I kiss her first? Should I take her into my arms?

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I decide to take her into my arms but stal when she seethes, “You better fuck me like you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I know what I’m doing.” I grab her ankles and pul her down off the mountain of pil ows propping her up to flatten her out. She squeals, surprised, and I decide to not kiss her. If fucking is what she wants, fucking is what she’s going to get.

I push her knees open and take a long look at clit and labia. I separate her lips to expose the hidden passage and find her moist. The lure of her pink, damp flesh is great. I want to taste her.

“I don’t want foreplay,” she says and tosses a condom at me. It lands beside us and I look at it dumbly. It’s been awhile since I’ve used one. My piercings tend to get in the way. I move between her legs, kneeling. I open her a bit more, pul ing her labia lips apart, and I can feel her muscles tighten. She’s used to being obeyed immediately.

I may only have this one chance.

I dip my head and lick her, long and deep, liking it when her hips buck in surprise. I grab her hips and hold her tight so that I can go down on her properly.

A few nips and licks later, she begs, “Please. Just fuck me.”

Her urgency speeds my pulse, heightens my need, but also makes me wonder what her motivation is. Maybe she doesn’t ever like foreplay, but it feels like something more is going on. I sit back up and pick up the condom. She watches as I open it and slide it over my erection, taking care when smoothing it past my piercings.

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

Angling above her, I take my cock in hand and guide it in. She lifts her hips, taking more of my length faster than I intended, and the sensation of her tight twat sliding over my pierced flesh is mind-blowing but I don’t want to slow this down. I thrust deeper, making her cry out, then pump her hard and fast.

She wraps her legs around me, but that’s too restraining for the rough fuck I want to give her. Grabbing her ankles, I put them on my shoulders. By the sounds coming from her throat I know she doesn’t mind.

I thrust forceful y.

“Harder!” she begs. “Faster.”

I won’t last long but I do as she asks, I also slide my hand between us to tweak her clit in a matched rhythm.

She cries out, “Fuck! Yes! Oh! Fuck! Yes, yes, yes!” and it pushes me to the edge. I keep tweaking and thrusting, pushing back the wave of need riding me hard. I want her to orgasm first. I want—

“God.” I lose the battle and push hard into her, my jism fil ing the condom. I keep moving over her, but it isn’t with the same force as before and Morgana grabs my hips, pushing herself harder into me, grinding, bucking, and then screaming with frustration and unquenched need.

94

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

“From childhood’s hour I have not been, as other’s were—I have not seen as other’s saw—I could not bring my passion’s from a common spring.”

Edgar Al en Poe, Alone

At Lewd Larry’s, I am surrounded by luxury, especial y when we are on The Oasis level. Master designed the member’s only dining room with an air of mystery. Plush red carpet in a Turkish pattern covers the floor, and soft pink tube lighting creates a warm glow around the room. Classical background music offers a thankful reprieve from the frenzied dance music on the lower level. It is a place for pet owners and their canine or feline slaves to relax and play.

I recline on a floor pil ow at Mater’s feet, while he sips brandy with one of his top Dominants, George Kirkpatrick, known as Doctor Psycho. I’m not sure how he came to be known by that name, because he seems to be the calmest, most rational handler Master has on his staff, although tonight he looks fatigued. Dark circles rim his eyes.

I pretend to sleep, listening hard, waiting for him to tel George about the house. I know Thomas must have sent him the information by now and am slightly surprised we are here instead of there to have a look.

“I’m hiring two more Dominants,” Master announces.

“So soon? We barely have the last batch adequately trained.” George’s voice seems concerned.

“I think it’s prudent. With Thomas not here, me looking at an extended paternity leave…”

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

What? He hasn’t said anything to me about taking time away from the business.

“…and you obviously exhausted.”

George sighs. “I’m fine.”

“When’s the last time you had a day off?”

“If you remember, I had almost a ful month of .”

Technical y, it wasn’t exactly time off. I think it, Master doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to. They both know that his extended vacation was anything but restful. He’d spent the time saving Thomas’s brother’s life.

I sigh, audibly irritated, and am surprised when Master nudges me with his foot, a gentle reminder that I’m not supposed to be eavesdropping.

I can’t help my feelings. I don’t like Thomas’s brother. He’s going by the name Joshua now, who knows what his real name is. I heard Thomas cal him Nikos, but is that his true name? Or just another alias? Although it hasn’t been said, I know he’s a secret agent too, and no doubt dangerous.

I might have liked him had we met under different circumstances, but showing up on our doorstep in the middle of the night, riddled with bul et holes, and out of his mind on drugs, wasn’t a good introduction. If not for Master’s quick surgical skil s and George’s wil ingness to stay with him while he recovered and detoxed, the man might be dead. I know it’s not a very Christian thought but if it had been his time to die, it might have been for the best. I feel like if he’d never arrived, Thomas wouldn’t have had to take the job on the other side of the country.

As it stands, I hate Joshua.

I sigh heavily a second time and receive a verbal reprimand. “Kitten!”

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I wasn’t even listening that time. Real y! I open one eye and meet Master’s irritated gaze.

“Meow-meow?”

He leans down, whispering, “Maybe you should take a nap in the office if our conversation is so disturbing to you.”

“Meow,” I answer, remembering the day he first taught me to vocalize two meows for positive, one meow for negative. Then it was only a game between us, pretend, but since then my feline persona has become every bit as real to me as my real life. I smile at him before closing my eyes and pretending to sleep.