Tested by Her Web Master (Web Master #2) (8 page)

The hungry look in his eyes as he chewed his food made him look as carnivorous as his Paleolithic brother. I could see that he was hungry, not just for the food before him, but also for me.

It was a rush to behold his desire and know that the gusto with which he attacked his food was equal to the way he wanted to devour every inch of me. It would be more fun to keep my eyes open and enjoy how my little display was affecting him.

Encouraged by his reaction, I slid the cucumber inside me. Pulled it out and pushed it in little by little. Every bit of progress eliciting a moan.

“
That’s a good girl. Such a little whore. That’s it,” he ordered between bites. “Fuck that cunt. Fuck it harder. Make it gush for me.”

At his insistence I ramped up the speed and gyrated a bit more to let him see how much I was enjoying myself, my inhibitions having fallen away.

Licking my lips, I poured a dollop of salad dressing on my breast.

His pupils dilated, and he swallowed whatever he was chewing on.

Taking my index finger, I swiped up the rich, white creamy substance and touched it to my tongue. Licking it off, I repeated the process with my other breast. Then I stopped long enough to fuck myself with a long, sensuous thrust of the cucumber.

“
That’s so fucking hot. I want to see more. Put more on those nipples. I want to see you try to lick it off yourself.”

Lick it off myself? I had big breasts, but I didn’t see how that would be possible.

“
Do it,” he snarled. Just then it registered that he’d been cutting and chewing his steak. I wanted to ask about how it was, but right after he gave me an order didn’t seem the best time to bring up my possible punishment.

I applied a generous plop of salad dressing to one of my nipples. It was cold, making my skin pucker to a taut point. Not sure how it was going to work, I lifted my breast from underneath, aiming it toward my mouth. To my great surprise it came closer than I expected it to.

“
Stretch yourself, girl. You can do it.”

For a moment I forgot everything else in the room, and I focused on this obscene action he wanted me to try. I’d never imagined a woman could touch her breast to her mouth any more than a man could suck his cock. But he was right. It was almost within reach.

Stretching my skin as far as it would go and sticking my tongue out as far as I could…I did it! Finally, after numerous attempts, I slicked my tongue against the end of my nipple enough to taste Ranch dressing.

“
Bravo! Now suck it. Suck yourself, you filthy whore.”

I seriously doubted that was possible, but I couldn’t stop trying to please him now.

Only the tip of my nipple was reachable if I craned my neck as far as humanly possible, but if I strained hard enough I could capture it with my lips. After a few tries, I was able to suck on the very tip of my nipple for a few brief seconds before my breast slipped away again.

The sensation was quite unique, like nothing I’d felt before. It put me in the odd position of being both the giver and the receiver of the pleasure. As a receiver it felt nice. The experience of being the giver was nice, too, but it was almost confused by feeling the result of what I did. Overall, the best part about it was the lust I could see it was inspiring in my Master. I played it for all it was worth, fucking him with my eyes while I suckled myself, and I could see my score rising by the minute.

It only took a few licks of my second breast for him to finish his last bite and knock everything on the table to the floor. His plate and silverware clanked onto the hardwood floor, lettuce went flying.

“
The salad!”

“
Fuck the salad,” he said, stripping off his clothes in record time. “Give me that fucking cucumber.” He reached between my legs, grabbed the inserted vegetable and pulled it out of me.

I gave a little shriek at the suddenness of it all, but he shut me up by taking a bite off the end of the cucumber.

Damn. If that was what he was going to do to any foreign cock I shoved up in there… Well, it gave me a new sense that he just might possibly harbor some jealousy after all.

“
That’s my fucking cunt, and you’re going to give it to me.”

I surrendered completely, melting underneath him.

His dick was so hard it stabbed at my leg several times before he settled inside me. My back arched. His mouth closed on my neck, and I could tell by the pressure he was going to leave a mark. He grabbed each of my breasts, one at a time, and licked off any stray drops of Ranch dressing I’d left behind. I writhed underneath him as he sucked and fucked me until I had to scream out, “Sir, may I please come, sir?”

“
Come. Yes, come all over me. I want you to leave a river of your juices on this table.”

We had already destroyed his table. Most of the dining area to be honest. At this point I didn’t have any qualms about making a mess so I lay back and gave myself over to the waves of ecstasy I’d been holding back.

My body pitched and shook, and all the while he continued fucking me. Pushing in, pulling out, then pushing in again. Each time deepening the connection between us.

“
I fucking love corrupting you, Sophie. Love how innocent you are. It makes me so hard for you, the nasty things I make you do.”

I was starting to return to Earth now, so I had the wherewithal to point out, “But now that you’ve corrupted me, I won’t be pure anymore.”

He grabbed my hair and pulled hard. “You’ll always be pure, Sophie. It’s the beauty of who you are.” He plunged deeper into me. “My Madonna and my whore in one irresistible package. Damn, woman, you’re so fucking perfect for me.”

With that he filled me with his cum, and I couldn’t have been happier.

I didn’t care about being perfect, but I wanted more than anything in the world to be perfect for him.

We didn’t lay like that for long. The hard wooden table wasn’t all that comfortable and there was salad dressing and stray bits of lettuce everywhere.

Quentin climbed off me and helped me to my feet. We looked at the mess all over the floor and started laughing.

“
Thanks for helping me christen that table.”

“
You’re welcome. But what a mess we’ve made. I don’t even know where to start with cleaning it up.”

He hugged my head to his chest. “You go take a shower. I’ll clean this up.”

“
Are you sure? I’m happy to help.”

“
I know you are, but I’m the one who flung it all on the floor. Go get cleaned up, and when you get finished I’ll wrap you up in a blanket and feed you.”

“
No PJs?”

“
No. Naked, but I’ll give you a blanket. A warm one. And some body heat.” This time I was sure he winked.

I’d practically forgotten about food, but now that he mentioned it I was famished. I thanked him and went to take a shower.

About thirty minutes later, I sat on Quentin’s couch with him, my legs draped over his lap while he fed me my dinner.

I’d waited until all the fucking was out of the way, but I couldn’t wait any longer to bring up my potential punishment. “This doesn’t taste too done to me. A little cold maybe, but not overcooked.” I giggled.

He gave me a playful swat on the thigh. “Careful, pet. You were tiptoeing very close to that line earlier.”

“
You mean you know I beat your timer.”

He sighed, but didn’t say anything.

“
I think you Doms just invent reasons to punish your subs. Like you set things up for us to fail just so you can punish us.”

His eyes widened. “Never.” But he gave my leg an affectionate squeeze.

The fire roared, and I thought about how much I enjoyed a good fire and how we never needed them in the part of Texas where I lived. I basked in the warmth of Quentin’s affection and snuggled against him.

He gave me another bite of food. The act of his feeding me was part of his aftercare. I had to hand it to Quentin, as much as he’d taken me out of my comfort zone in the scene earlier, he was amazing at bringing things back around and making me feel adored.

As we snuggled up together on the couch, in the cozy setting of his cabin, I felt complete. I entwined my fingers with Quentin’s and wondered what BA was doing at that moment.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I was back in Ft. Worth, on the way home from school when I first heard the news. One minute I was listening to a new song, the next, the radio station’s DJ broke in with an announcement.

“
In a late-breaking news story, what police believe to be a bomb has just gone off in a Dallas shopping center. A masked gunman opened fire earlier today in a department store. It is believed the gunman has barricaded himself and several hostages in the salon in the back of the store. Stay tuned to this channel for updates.”

My throat went dry, and I tried to swallow. The night before Shelby had told me she was heading into Dallas today for a hair and nails appointment. It couldn’t be at the same place…

As soon as I drove into my driveway I put the car in park and sent Shelby a text.

“
You okay?”

No emojis.

And no response.

I went inside, threw on my running shoes and grabbed Felix and his leash before running out the door.

I needed to think.

How could I find out if Shelby was okay?

I considered contacting her mother, but thought better of it. If Shelby was in harm’s way the last thing her mother needed was people crawling out of the woodwork asking inane questions.

I tried telling myself Shelby was fine, that she could take care of herself, but then realized that no one did much holding their own against the automatic weapons these nut jobs seemed to take to crime scenes these days.

While I may not have done the trick distracting myself, at least Felix and I got some exercise. Both of us were panting by the time we got home.

After filling a tall glass of water for myself, and making sure Felix’s dish was filled as well, I perched nervously on a chair in the living room and turned on the TV.

The news hadn’t gotten worse, but it had gotten more bizarre.

“
Disgruntled ex-employee opens fire on salon” ran across the ticker at the bottom of the screen and my heart clenched when I saw the name of the store. It was the same place Shelby had said she’d be going.

Panicked, I sent another text.

“
Are you all right? Worried sick. HUGS!”

Was the hugs part over the top? I didn’t know or care. The girl who had been my best friend since we were in pre-K might be in that store with a crazy man, fighting for her life. A cold fear gripped me, and I didn’t know what to do.

But there was nothing to do but wait.

I texted Quentin.

“
Emergency. I need you.”

Was that overstating the situation? Perhaps, but I was scared to death. I needed his calming guidance right now.

I thought of calling my mother, but she would only stir up more panic and before I knew it, I’d be consoling her. I’d call my father, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The first thing he would do would be to tell my mother. With a sigh, I gave up trying to do anything and just glued my eyeballs to the TV screen, waiting for something new to be reported.

After a couple of hours of nothing new, I turned on my computer. Maybe the internet had better reporting. Sometimes you could get great eyewitness reports from Twitter.

But before I could check social media I saw the chat box at the bottom of my screen, the one I used to talk with BA, lit up.

BA: Hey. You there?

Sophie: Yeah, I’m here.

BA: What are you up to?

Sophie: Actually I’m in the middle of a pretty scary situation. I think one of my friends is being held hostage right now by a nut job.

BA: No kidding?

Sophie: Nope. Not kidding.

BA: Wow. That’s intense.

Sophie: Yeah.

BA: Are you okay?

Sophie: Well, I’m pretty nervous, upset.

BA: I’m sorry. Anything I can do?

Sophie: I don’t think so. But thanks for asking.

BA: So, what are you doing?

Sophie: Just sitting around, waiting to see if she’s okay. I guess eventually the police will talk this guy down and the hostages will go home. That’s how these things usually go down, right?

BA: I believe so. If a shooter’s intention is to kill the people, they usually do it upfront. If he wanted to shoot the hostages, he would have already. He’s just using them as leverage.