The first three episodes of Pages from the University de Sade will be simul-posted here for free. After that they will be available for purchase at $.99 per episode, linked here (with previews) with the sixth episode and every sixth episode thereafter simul-posted for free.
Kenzi walked at a slightly faster pace than Jack, not to try and control while they were headed, but to feel the comforting light tinges of restriction as he held her back by her hair. That people noticed her predicament as they passed made things all the more arousing to her. She wanted to remove her clothes right then and there, but Jack was intent on getting to her destination.
He gave her a shove into the room, more playful than hard, and closed the door. She barely had time to turn around before he grabbed her from behind. He locked one arm in between hers and her back, pinning them between their bodies, and groped at her with his free hand.
He ran it up her stomach and slipped it beneath the crop top, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples, which had been made more sensitive by the barbells she’d pierced them with a few months previous. The more he touched her the further she sank into him, and the further away she grew in her head.
Even as he let her go and moved around to the front, her eyes were dreamy, staring off into space. Only a slap and a stinging pain in her cheek returned her to reality. As she brought her eyes into focus she became aware of his hand rushing at her once more. Rather than flinch, she merely shut them and stood there to take it. His hand connected with a sharpness that echoed off the walls of the room and traveled through her body directly to her pussy.
Before she had a chance to look back with her best ‘fuck me’ eyes, he’d taken her by the chin. He ran his thumb up to her bottom lip, slowly sliding it downward, parting them. The look that washed over her face as he slid said thumb into her mouth and gently fucked it was as out of her control as everything else.
She didn’t even notice his other hand deftly working her shorts until gravity pulled them to the floor. Seconds later he tugged at the bottom of her top. She obliged, raising her arms skyward and allowing him to lift it off her. “Almost the way I want you,” he informed her, briefly dropping his eyes to her black thong before circling around back and pinning her arms once more.
No longer hindered by fabric, he groped her with full force, eliciting a moan that lingered halfway between pleasure and pain as he dug his nails into her breasts. He pinched her nipples and lifted, prompting a squeal as she rose to her tiptoes, falling back against him.
“You respond well,” he said. He released her once more and grabbed a handful of hair, pushing her towards the bed and shoving her down. She hit the mattress with a soft ‘oof,’ not even daring to break her fall. He grabbed one wrist and began to move it, but before he could go any further, she placed both of them together behind her back. “Very well,” he acknowledged.
“Did you enjoy having your face slapped?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she replied, turning her head sideways and shutting her eyes. She hadn’t been particularly subtle about letting that detail slip. She was glad he’d picked up on it and followed through. She had high hopes for him, hopes that beneath his chivalrous cowhand exterior there was a selfish Dom that would give her what she deserved.
She stayed down for a long several minutes, with him shuffling around behind her. She knew that moving her head would be a serious offense, but she figured straining her eyes was okay. However it wasn’t enough for her to see what he was doing behind her.
In actuality he’d simply been watching her, enjoying the view that her shapely ass afforded him. And he wanted to make her wait, to stand in place, bent far over in the awkward position that would grow steadily more uncomfortable with time. He wanted the anticipation to play games with her head, wanted her to grow antsy and anxious.
He got his wish as she began wiggling her ass back and forth impatiently. “Do you want something?” he teased, bringing his hand down on it with a hard clap. She jumped at the impact, but her face wore that mischievous grin of hers.
“Yesss,” she drew the word out, and he could just picture her avoiding eye contact in faux embarrassment had she been facing him.
“And what is that?” he smacked the other cheek, but this time she was prepared.
“What’s that?” he asked, smacking her harder, growing closer to the line between pleasure and pain. The impact seemed to shoot down her legs and bounce back up into the rest of her body. She bit her lip as the sting lingered for a moment. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Ungh,” she grunted as he hit her again, in the same spot and even harder. Her flesh glowed hot and she knew there was a bright red handprint where the impact had been.
“Try again,” he said.
“I want you to fuck me. Sir,” she said louder, emphasizing the last word so much that it almost came out as a growl.
“Spread your legs.” She was only too happy to comply, but instead of a hard cock she was met with the soft smack of his palm. The unexpected motion made her jump far more than it was actually painful, pushing her onto her tiptoes and mashing her face into the comforter for a brief moment before she settled back down.
He moved her arms into a rectangular position, each hand grabbing the opposite bicep while he wrapped one of his hands around her wrists, pinning them together. She felt the intrusion of the tip of his cock almost immediately. “Ooh,” she moaned as he slid the first inch in, but he stopped there. She tried to press against him, but his grip was resolute.
“What do you say?” he teased.
“Thank youuu,” she sang.
“For fucking me. Sir. Ungh,” she moaned as he slid himself the rest of the way in.
“Good girl. Say it again.”
“Thank you for fucking me Sir,” she said, the words slurring together as he began thrusting, using her arms as leverage and forcing her face into the bed with every downstroke. He thought she might have even said it again, but her speech had become incomprehensible, more wailing moan than anything. His rhythm was moderate and steady, but from the way Kenzi was carrying on it sounded like he was plowing her for all she was worth.
“Are you faking it?” he asked.
“Ungh, fuck no,” she managed to grunt before losing herself once more. He believed her.
“Good,” he said. “I don’t want a fake little fucktoy spitting out lies, understand?”
“I want to know when I’m doing it wrong and when I’m doing it right.”
“Yes Sirrr,” Jack grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her head to the side, taking satisfaction in the tears that had welled up in her eyes and caused her eyeliner to run down her cheeks. And he hadn’t even gotten to using her mouth yet.
“You look like such a whore right now,” he told her, emphasizing the grip he had on her arms. “I like it when you look like a whore.”
“Thank you Sirrr.” For several minutes he increased his pace, driving her into the bed with every thrust. He used his free hand to take advantage of her body, smacking her ass, grabbing her tits, pulling her head back taut. Her mouth lay agape as he forced her to stare at the headboard, his cock keeping her attention far from the ever increasing strain on her neck.
She complied, dropping her jaw.
“Tongue out.” He shoved two fingers from his free hand into her mouth, fucking it and causing a line of drool to run down to the bed. He caught what he could and rubbed it on her face. The reaction was instantaneous. Kenzi grinned and he felt her body writhe beneath him.
“Shiiit, I’m cumminggg.”
“I’ll give you the first one,” he said, continuing to fuck her. “If you’re properly thankful.”
“Thank you Sirrr, thank you Sirr,” she continued to moan over and over, bucking against his grasp. Her struggle made him harden even further and for a few seconds he thought he might lose himself too, but he forced himself to regain control. Kenzi’s body was immaculate, far too nice for him to waste an orgasm cumming into a condom inside her.
“Thank you Sir,” she breathed as the final throes of her orgasm left, and her muscles relaxed and she slumped forward onto the bed.
“You’re not done yet,” he informed her, pulling out and grabbing a fistful of hair. He climbed onto the bed and dragged her along with him, taking care not to do any real damage. Kenzi wasn’t sure where her eyes were supposed to be, but she knew where she wanted them, and that was on the cock that had made her cum hard enough to produce a big wet stain on the sheets.
Jack ripped the condom off in one quick motion and tossed it aside, moving her head down. She opened her lips in preparation, but he stopped her inches short. “Where am I going to cum?”
“I don’t knowww,” she said coyly, drawing out the last word. She pulled against his grip, wondering if he had the willpower to withhold himself from a blowjob. He did.
“Where do you like it best?”
“My faaace,” this time some of the embarrassment was genuine. ‘Liked it best’ was an understatement. She loved it in the face. She loved to feel the fruits of her labor dripping off her. She loved the overt symbol of her filthiness. She loved when guys didn’t let her wipe it up right away, when they made her wear the shame of her position, letting it sink into her as the cum dried.
“Better get to work then,” he said, finally releasing her hair.
Kenzi drooled on his cock as she went down. If Jack had asked her she would have said it was intentional; she did, after all, need lubrication, and the wetter the blowjob, the better the blowjob. But it wasn’t, it was a complete lack of control on her part, a complete conquering of modesty by lust and arousal.
She couldn’t deepthroat him, her gag reflex and his rather large curved cock wouldn’t allow it, but what she lacked in skill, she more than made up for in desire. She didn’t quite live for sucking cock, but there was something that just felt so right about sliding up and down with hard flesh between her lips.
She stroked him as she sucked, her hand just below her lips, working in a spiraling motion so that her thumb slid over his sensitive spot when she came up. Her sexual awakening had come with an insatiable curiosity to figure out just what exactly turned her on, and the key to those studies had been pornography. She didn’t just masturbate to it, she studied it, she researched it, she watched intently what the girls did to get their men off.
And so Kenzi Johansson knew exactly how to suck a cock before she’d even put it into practice, and when she finally did get her opportunity, it had only honed her skills. She looked Jack in the eyes, but this time it was his that were clamped shut as her lips and tongue danced around his head. Unlike her, he was a quiet one, and the only sound in the room was the soft ‘thuck, thuck, thuck’ of her worship.
She turned things into a wet mess, her saliva having long since dribbled down his shaft onto his balls and the bed beneath. She pulled off for a brief moment to catch her breath and two long strands of saliva followed her, keeping his cock connected to her lips. He opened his eyes to see why things had ceased finding her grinning back at him before sticking out her tongue and lapping up the strands as she dove back down.
That particular moment of desire, of Kenzi’s utter willingness to degrade herself for his pleasure was too much for him. “Fuck!” He would have added more, except Kenzi had increased her licks and her strokes. And he didn’t need to.
When she felt him stiffen, she pulled off, stroking with his tip an inch from her open mouth. Her tongue out, she wanted to taste as much as she could, but she knew that wasn’t her duty. Her job was to coat her face with his cum, to show him just what a good little whore she was, and how well she would obey him.
The first rope hit home, dead center across her mouth, and she savored it’s saltiness before pursing her lips and turning her head to the side, jerking him onto them, then her cheeks, then allowing some to splash off her forehead. Full coverage. Good whores took it all and took it everywhere. She opened her eyes and batted them at him, doing her best to look cute, but he was still spacey from the orgasm, staring off into space above her head.
After several seconds he became aware of her presence and her gaze and grinned at the sight. He took her chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her head to each side, inspecting his work. “What do you say?”
“Thank youuuu Sirrr,” she sang, licking at the droplets that had started to cascade over her lips while he stood and grabbed the shirt he’d discarded earlier, and tossed it to her so that she could wipe her face.
As she cleaned herself off, he eyed the wet spot on the sheets and started loosening the fitted one from the corners of the bed. “Ahh,” Kenzi screamed as he tossed the end over her and shoved her off the bed onto the floor, a thick oriental rug preventing an unfortunate collision with the concrete. As she collected herself, he grabbed the regular sheet and tossed that over her too.
“Good thing you did the spare set this morning.”
“Right,” she said, her mind drifting back to Ellie and the load of laundry that was likely now sitting idle in its dryer. “I should get on that.”
“I was hoping you’d be here,” Kenzi came into the laundry room to find Ellie sitting on one of the benches with her laptop.
“How was Jack?”
“Gooood,” Kenzi answered with a grin.
“What did y’all do?”
“Oh, you know. He held me down and fucked me.” Kenzi quickly recounted their tryst, watching Ellie intently as she took it all in.
“Did you like it?” she asked when she’d completed the story.
“Hell yeah,” Kenzi said, starting in on her own laundry. “When he shoved his fingers in my mouth…sooo good. And cumming on my face…” she let it hang in the air for a moment before flashing a sly smile. Ellie seemed taken aback by her bluntness and refused to make eye contact. “What are you going to do with yours?”
“I don’t know,” Ellie said, taking a look at the dryer display. She had another twenty minutes to kill. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“Hm,” Kenzi said, and this time it was her turn to be taken aback. She couldn’t imagine not knowing her own sexuality so well. Not that there weren’t still things left to explore, but by and large, she knew exactly what she liked. “I think you gotta just go for it,” Kenzi said finally. “Or hope he does I guess since you’re the submissive one.”
“Yeah,” Ellie said. Liz was confident enough, but she still had trouble picturing him ‘just going for it,’ and she wasn’t sure they were at that point anyway. But she wanted things to move forward somehow even if it wasn’t her getting held down and fucked like Kenzi had been. But how did she do that?
“Well, what now?” Kenzi asked her.
“What time is it?”
Kenzi checked her Kindle. “Almost three,” she said.
“Shit.” Had it really been that long? After Kenzi and Jack had departed she’d wandered aimlessly through the castle, trying to get some sense of bearings for its labyrinthine halls. She was a little surprised at the reactions to her; she expected universities to be cauldrons of flirting and sexuality, this one especially so, but everyone had given her a pretty wide berth. It seemed to be more out of respect than unfriendliness, and Ellie supposed that students would have to be respectful of other students’ submissives given the nature of the University. Her mind wandered back to the student handbook Arrington had given her, currently taking up space on her desk. She should probably read that.
“Places to be?” Kenzi asked.
“Liz…er…Sir gets off work at 3, I was hoping to have the laundry done by then.”
“Did he tell you to do it?”
“No, it just seemed like a good thing to do, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Then I’m sure it’ll be fine. Are you going to go meet him or just wait in the room for him?”
“Neither.” The voice came from the entry, from Liz, who walked in dressed in one of the red polos of the University’s food service workers.
“How’d you find me?” Ellie asked, realizing her indiscretion of not having left a note or any other indication of where she was. She didn’t even have a cell phone he could find her through, and they hadn’t shared any other sort of contact information online yet.
“I figured you were still in the building, and when I noticed my hamper gone…” Ellie suddenly felt as though a spotlight had been shined on her. For some reason the fact that she’d been caught in the act of doing his laundry embarrassed her. “Thanks, by the way,” he said, and that helped to dissipate some of the tension. “Where’d you get detergent?”
“I gave her some,” Ellie’d forgotten all about Kenzi. “You must be her Dom,” Kenzi said, stepping forward and introducing herself.
“Yeah, thanks,” Liz said, glancing back and forth at the two of them. “I was going to head into town to get some actually. I, uh, got my paycheck today. Do you want to come?” he asked Kenzi.
“You don’t mind?” she asked.
Liz shrugged. “I was new here once too, I know what it’s like to not have many, or any, friends. I figured Ellie might enjoy having you tag along.” He looked at her, “wouldn’t you?”
Ellie nodded. “Great, well let’s go to the room so I can change,” he said. “You can pick up my laundry later. Maybe fold it for me.” He grinned at his sub.
“Yes Sir.” Behind her Kenzi smiled as well. Liz and Ellie were adorable together, if somewhat distanced from each other by awkwardness and sexual tension. In time that would fall, she thought. Ellie adored Liz, she could see it in her eyes, and while the Dom didn’t know quite what to make of his submissive, Kenzi could see a protectiveness in him. He wanted to see to it that Ellie had a good start at the UDS, whatever that meant.
When they arrived at B66, Liz peeled the thick short sleeved polo off immediately, followed quickly by the long sleeve shirt he wore under it. Ellie pretended not to notice, wanting to give him a degree of modesty, but Kenzi elbowed her in the side and nodded in his direction.
Ellie vaguely recalled Liz taking his shirt off at some point the previous night. The warmth of his bare skin pressed against hers wasn’t something she would soon forget. But she hadn’t actually gotten a look at him shirtless, or if she had, fatigue had pushed it from her memory.
Liz was by no means a body-builder, nor was he thick in a woodsman-like sense like Jack was, but his wiry body was in excellent shape with narrow, but well-muscled shoulders and the subtle yet prominent abs of a skater or a soccer player. With his back still to the girls, he undid his belt and Ellie could see that his legs were similarly fit. Without seeming to notice that he had voyeurs, he pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, less suited to the dank climes of the castle, but that would no doubt more comfortable in the late summer sun.
“What?” he asked when he turned around and saw Kenzi staring at him and grinning.
“Your girl here lucked out,” she said, poking an embarrassed Ellie. She had as well since Jack seemed like he could easily sling her over his shoulder and carry her away, but there was nothing that said she couldn’t appreciate attractiveness in myriad forms. Hell, even Ellie’s body held a certain allure, and she had greatly enjoyed being curled up together in her tree stump hideout.
“You ready?” Liz asked, filing the compliment away for later use. Ellie nodded, and Kenzi flashed him the mischievous grin that Ellie was coming to realize was her trademark.
Charenton had originated as a fur trading and lumber outpost in the northern reaches of the United States, and it still fulfilled that in part, but the Village and University had become symbiotic with each other with local industry growing per the needs of the students.
The commercial center of village was a small grid of streets, sliced diagonally across the southwest by the river. There were two bridges providing access to the town from the University, the southern extending across Mill Island into its heart, and the northern looping up towards Charenton’s more residential areas.
Liz led them along the southern bridge, the one most conducive to foot traffic. Mill Island, which sat like a large cruise ship run aground in the middle of the river had formerly housed the Village’s paper mill and now currently housed its small hydroelectric facilities along with a large cobbled together building that contained a hardware store, bookstore, and small outdoors store on one side of the road, and a tall brick church on the other.
Ellie expected the town to look like something out of a gothic novel but it was as middle America as she’d ever seen with brick buildings dominating, but by no means holding a monopoly, combining with steel structures and old wood sided houses to form a village whose expansion had been robust in the early part of the 1900s but had slowed to a crawl of late.
“So how do you deal with Jackson being bi?” The question came out of the blue from Liz.
“What?” Ellie was shaken out of her reverie by its bluntness.
“What?” Kenzi too was taken aback.
“It’s on his profile,” Liz said, referring to the school’s directory which outlined each student’s orientation, their D/s relationship, and the rules that applied so that students could exercise the proper discretion with regard to each other’s Dominants and submissives.
“I…hadn’t looked…” Kenzi trailed off, not terribly bothered by the revelation, but rolling it around in hear head nonetheless. With his lumberjack physique and stoic bearded face, he didn’t look like the sort that enjoyed the company of other men, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn’t come up with just what a bisexual man was supposed to look like. “Interesting,” she finished, finally. “Are you…”
“Straight as an arrow,” Liz replied with a grin.
“And you?” She turned to Ellie, smiling as she noted the younger girl now clasped Liz’s hand.
“I’ve only been with men,” she replied.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Kenzi gave a lascivious grin as she looked the girl’s body up and down. There was a lot to enjoy there.
“Take it easy,” Liz said with good humor. “We haven’t even fucked yet. One thing at a time.”
“What are you waiting for?” Kenzi asked. Silently, Ellie wondered the same thing.
“Things,” Liz said, casting a glance at Ellie who looked simultaneously nervous at, and intrigued by his cryptic answer.
While the Village’s buildings might have looked like those of any other northern Midwestern town, the people certainly didn’t. They were more west coast than anything, sporting tattoos and a noticeable lack of clothing, but things were also more diverse than Ellie would have expected. BDSM had always seemed like a white man’s pursuit, especially given the fiction available on the subject, but as she watched a burly black man clad in nothing but a jockstrap walk arm in arm with his plump Latina Mistress, that was clearly not the case in Charenton. Nor was it the case at the University she realized, remembering Ash and Salihah.
Charenton was really only one rectangular block of commercial buildings, about a quarter mile tall and three quarters wide, although a smattering of other restaurants and businesses also extended down the side streets towards the river. Many of them dealt in various aspects of BDSM and she counted at least three pornography shops, proudly displaying their wares on the sidewalks. Further to the north and east houses began to outnumber commercial structures although there were a few buildings doubling as both scattered about.
“Where are we headed?” Ellie asked as they made their way north, realizing that Liz seemed to have a definite destination in mind.
“There’s a little plaza a ways up, there’s a grocery store on one side, where I can get detergent, and then Lioness and The Crows’ Nest on the other.”
“What are those?”
“They’re both Wal-Mart-y type stores. Lioness is more upscale and The Crows’ Nest is kind of like a thrift store.”
“Which one are we going in?”
“The Crows’ Nest,” Liz said shortly.
“Alright,” Ellie replied. She didn’t have any money, but the thought of even just browsing around a store for her own things with maybe the hope of buying them someday filled her with delight. Hell, stuffing her pack full of the few garments from home she actually liked had been enjoyable enough, knowing that for once she was making a choice all on her own. She shook her head quickly, lest bitter memories come seeping back in. She wondered how her, what was it called, emancipation was coming along. The Headmistress had spoken like it was already a done deal, but she had her doubts.
The grocery store was called The Devil’s Pantry, whose strange name Ellie imagined meant it was a unique entity, though it looked like every chain grocery store she’d ever been in. Except for the uniforms of the employees. Their skintight black and red spandex bottoms and their deep V-cut tops, emblazoned with a logo of a corseted, thonged, female Lucifer left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Glancing around at the attractive cashiers and shelf stockers, Ellie had no issue with that.
“If they’re not selling sex here, they’re selling with sex,” Liz remarked, grabbing a basket and heading straight for the hygiene and cleaning products aisles where he added detergent, toothpaste, and a toothbrush for Ellie.
“Anything you need?” he asked.
“Um.” Ellie paused. Decision making was not her strong suit. Her life had been a steady diet of ‘do this,’ ‘use this,’ ‘eat that.’ Deciding for herself was foreign.
“Right,” Liz said. “What’s in your bag?”
“You didn’t go through it?” The words were out of Ellie’s mouth before she had a chance to stop them, and she turned red at the indiscretion.
“Did you want me to?” Liz asked.
“No, well, I wouldn’t mind. I just assumed…”
“Noted,” Liz said. “Well, what did you bring?”
“Just clothes and my laptop,” Ellie replied, glad the conversation had moved on.
“Oookay, so you definitely need this,” he held up the toothbrush. “And body wash and shampoo.” He gestured to the rows of bottles lining the aisle. “I take it you don’t want to use mine, so…”
Ellie glanced down the aisle as well, wandering a few steps to where the women’s products were stocked where she found promises and exultations galore. She didn’t need something that smelled like strawberry butter, or that promised ‘extra hydration’ or ‘advanced hair technology,’ she just needed shampoo.
“Yours is cheaper,” she shrugged, noting a five dollar bottle that promised to work as bodywash, shampoo, and shaving lather. It seemed as realistic a claim as being ‘the most invigorating cleanser.’ She picked up a bottle, smelled it, and tossed it into Liz’s basket, then looked to Kenzi for approval.
“Shit’s expensive,” she said, offering no further comment.
“Do you want anything to keep around to eat?” Liz asked. Ellie shrugged again.
“Right. Well I work for the University’s food services and they always give me stuff to bring back, so you can make do with that. Good?”
“Good. We’re done here then,” he said, heading back towards the cashier.
“I like it when you get all Dominant,” Kenzi teased. “Ellie likes it too,” she said, poking the girl, who found an enthralling pocket of air on which to rest her eyes.
“I would hope so,” Liz added, making quick work of the self-checkout machines. The trip across the street was quick as Charenton rarely had any traffic, and most of that was on the main thoroughfares that functioned more as roads through the village than avenues to anything within it.
Lioness and The Crows’ Nest sat next to one another, and as they were owned by the same company, were connected on the inside by a lone narrow aisle through their shared wall. With Hipster styles of dated wear becoming chic, Lioness had started to closely resemble its neighbor and Liz sometimes wondered if they shared stock and Lioness just marked up the prices.
Further down there were several smaller storefronts, a liquor store, a nail salon, an insurance agency, but Liz had never paid them any mind. He hadn’t even been in Lioness more than once or twice, mostly because it was full of things he could never afford.
The Crows’ Nest was like a department store shoved into a storefront half as big as it needed to be. The clothing section was situated near the front with racks spaced closely like a dense forest while the rear of the store was reserved for groceries, the majority of which were the best in off-brand microwaveable dinners. The center typically rotated furniture, fetish garb, and various seasonal items. All of it looked like it had been hastily arranged by overworked cashiers that doubled as stockers and from his experience Liz knew that to be exactly the case.
“Why are we here?” Kenzi asked.
“Clothes.” Liz responded. “I’m guessing Ms. Pensacola here doesn’t have much in the way of winter apparel, no?” Ellie shook her head. “Well better sooner rather than later, when there’s still some variety to choose from.”
“Why are we in the Men’s section?” Kenzi again.
“Some Doms mark their subs with collars. Some with other jewelry, some with physical marks.” He grabbed Ellie by the shoulders and turned her so that she was facing him square, eying her dimensions. “I like to mark mine with my clothes. Specifically, my clothes.” He picked up a flannel button up off one of the racks and held it up to her.
Ellie’s heartbeat quickened and her hands failed to react quick enough when Liz let go of the garment, trying, and failing to catch it with her knee as it fell to the floor. She picked it up quickly and set to work undoing the buttons. It was the first overtly dominant thing Liz had done with her, picking her wardrobe and she didn’t want to disappoint him by responding unsatisfactorily. When she had the shirt open, she slung it over herself and began buttoning it up once more, but he stopped her, his nimble fingers slowly taking over.
As he worked his way up her body, Ellie felt like she was being restrained bit by bit even though the garment was loose enough to be able to accommodate his broader shoulders. She kept her eyes downcast, but she knew Liz was studying her close, checking to see how she responded to this foray into dominance and submission. She found that she very much enjoyed his touch, subtle and accidental though it was as he buttoned the shirt. There was something extra in it, even as his knuckles lightly caressed her breasts while he passed over them, focusing on his task.
He went all the way to the collar and grabbed something from behind her, wrapping it around her neck and flipping the strands with purpose. The firm grip of the tie on the back of her neck made the store around them drop away, and this time she did meet his eyes, catching in them a playful mischief as he tightened the knot.
“Leashes are fun and all,” he said, tightening his fist and pulling her a scant inch forward. “But I like a bit more subtlety.” He tugged downward, bending her at a forty-five degree angle at the waist and causing her shorts to ride up, giving Kenzi a view of shapely ass.
“Thank you Sir.” She didn’t know why she said it, she just knew it was what she needed to say. She could feel the strength in Liz’s arm as he held her fast, feel the dominance radiating off him. More importantly she could feel her own control slipping away. She wanted more, she wanted him to pull her all the way down, to make her kneel there on the floor in front of Kenzi and the clerk and anyone else that might have wandered in. Or to grab at her ass, to take advantage of the view she was providing. So many things, so many desires flooded her head. In that moment, she wanted them all. But he merely smiled and let her go, turning to peruse the shelves once more.
“You can take that off now,” he said, without looking back. She never would have without permission, and she certainly didn’t want to now, but a rational part of her reminded her that it needed to be paid for.
“I thought you were going to beg for him to fuck you right here on the floor,” Kenzi’s voice made her jump, even though it was just a whisper. “Maybe you should have,” she remarked.
Liz walked through the store and added gloves, a hat, flannel pajama pants, and a pair of jeans to the growing pile in her arms as she followed him. “You can borrow one of my jackets and we’ll wait on the boots,” he said, concealing the reason as to why. When the cash register display blinked over eighty dollars though, that reason was brought to the forefront.
“Shit,” he said, calling up his bank account on the phone. He could cover it. Barely.
“I got it,” Kenzi stepped forward and pulled out a credit card, handing it to the cashier before Liz could protest. “My parents pay my credit card so it’s no big deal,” she added.
“I…thanks,” Liz said, and this time it was his turn to turn red and avoid Ellie’s eyes. How dominant was it to not be able to afford even some of the basic necessities? He tried to reassure himself that Ellie didn’t care, and he knew that she didn’t, but he cared, and that dug at him. What he’d built with his display in the store seemed already broken.
“Unh,” Kenzi had poked her as Liz led them out of the store, nodding emphatically at Liz’s back, mouthing the words ‘thank you.’
“Thank You. Sir,” Ellie blurted, finding that the words sounded far too artificial, but Liz seemed to relax visibly at them.
“I liked what you did to me in the store,” she added as Kenzi poked her again. “I mean…all of it, picking out clothes for me. The tie. All of it.” The more she spoke the easier the words seemed to come. “I’d like to do more stuff like that. You know, show you…show you…devotion?” It seemed like an absurd way to describe things, but she found when she said devotion out loud, it seemed to fit.
“How? What sort of things?” Liz asked, taking her by her bag-less hand.
“Um.” It was normally when her mind would go blank, but an image bolted into her mind like a lightning strike. She’d seen it in a movie once and it had made her wetter than hell without even having to touch herself. It was something she swore she’d never do, but the thought of it was too hot to push out of her head. The mere fact that it was so far outside of her comfort zone though also made her tingle with hot arousal. She didn’t want to do it, but she wanted to be made to do it. She thought.
“What?” Shit. Liz had definitely noticed that she had something specific on her mind.
“I want my head shaved,” she said, her voice went hoarse at what saying those words did to her.
“You want your head shaved, or you want me to shave your head?” Liz asked. He got it. He got the distinction. It was phrased like a question, but he already knew the answer. She nodded. She looked at his hands. Large and strong. She wanted those hands to strip her of her hair, of something that made her identifiable. She wanted the inexorable reminder that she was his to come in the form of the cool air on her head, on her becoming a faceless object for him. She wanted her knowledge of him, her devotion to him, to grow as her hair grew, and as it became whole again, so too hopefully would she.
“When we get back,” Liz said.
They walked along in silence for several moments, with the tingling of anticipation spreading further and further through Ellie’s body until it had swallowed her whole and she about levitated while she walked.
“I should go find Jack,” Kenzi said once they were in view of campus. She gave Ellie a quick kiss on the cheek and that wry grin. “Enjoy,” she sang, before heading off.
“Bye,” Ellie said, her voice came out in a squeak. It was only her and Liz now. He dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close and steering her across campus.
By the time they reached Liz’s door, her door, she was nearly beside herself, as though she was watching events unfold from a higher perspective. “I actually have a nice electric razor,” he said, reaching into one of his drawers and producing a small rectangular black box. “I shave my own head every so often. It’s cheaper than getting a haircut.”
Ellie suddenly felt very isolated in the center of the room, very on display. Liz’s gaze had become wolfish, especially as he removed the razor from the box and plugged it into an extension cord serpentining across the floor.
“What?” she asked, realizing that there was something beneath his look.
“I think this would work better if you were naked.” He said the words slowly, allowing the weight of each to press upon her. She swallowed hard and then nodded.
She wasn’t wearing much to begin with, and Liz had certainly felt the contours of her body as they’d slept together, but still, stripping for him seemed a large step. Her fingers fumbled with her shorts…why the fuck were they so bad at buttons?
“Maybe I should do this,” Liz said, stepping forward and grabbing her hands, placing them at her sides. His made short work of the shorts and gravity brought them to the floor. “Lift,” he said, tugging at the hem of her tank top, and peeling it off her when she complied.
He leaned in and reached around her to undo the clasps on her bra and she leaned into him, reveling in the warmth of his closeness and of the breath on her neck and shoulder. When he finished and slid it forwards over her arms, she shuddered at the caress of his fingertips. God how she wanted him to touch her more.
As soon as he tossed it aside and turned his eyes to her body, it was like she caught fire. She clasped her hands tightly behind her back and stuck them out, trying to foist her exposure upon him, to make her nudity and her vulnerability something he couldn’t possibly ignore. Her panties seemed heavy on her skin. She reached beneath the waistband and slipped them over the curvature of her ass, wiggling her legs and pulling downward while keeping her hands behind her back until they also fell. She kicked them and her shorts away. She wanted them nowhere near her.
“I like your hands back there,” Liz said, stepping around behind her.
‘Touch me,’ she willed with her mind, not daring to speak or move.
He put a hand on the back of her head and pushed it forward, forcing her to stare at the floor.
She clasped her fingers, squeezing tightly, fighting the urge to protest, to push him away, to grab hold of her hair and run screaming before it could be sheared from her head.
Liz turned on the razor, filling the room with a low hum and collected several strands in his free hand. She felt the cool vibrating metal on her neck and jumped, almost knocking it out of Liz’s hand in the process. He held it at the base of her neck for a split second, and then started upward. A cacophonous buzz replaced the hum, and a few seconds later he opened his hand, letting a long collection of blonde fall to the floor.
He repeated this process several times. Buzz. Drop. Buzz. Drop. Her hair piled around her feet and she couldn’t help but feel as though she were shedding her past life. Buzz. Drop. She felt cool air on her scalp and found it to be oddly comforting, a connection to the world around her and a tether to reality.
She shut her eyes and relaxed her muscles, letting Liz move her head as he worked. First to one side, then the other. Then back. Then forward again. She could hear the razor humming just off her right ear as he ran a hand over her head and inspected his work. He tackled a few more spots and then checked again.
She heard the razor go silent and the subsequent clatter as he set it down. His hands clamped down on her shoulders, rotating her and moving her a few steps forward and to the left. She knew she now faced one of the room’s two mirrors, split on the walls on either side of the door.
“Open your eyes,” he said. It was not a suggestion.
She took a deep breath before complying, willing them to focus on her reflection. The sight took the fire that had been burning inside her ever since she’d removed her clothes and tossed an entire can of gasoline on it. She surveyed the person in the mirror, no longer someone she recognized. She felt naked to a degree she never thought she could. There was nothing covering her, nothing to hide behind. Liz could see every inch of her.
She turned to face Liz. “I’d like to please you now Sir.”
The line sounded so straight from porn that he laughed, quickly covering his smile, lest Ellie’s feelings be hurt, but it was clear she was in a whole other world. “How would you like to do that?” he asked.
“I…I don’t know, what do you like?” she said, a bit taken aback. He planted a large hand on her head, his pinky finger and thumb spanning its width and then some. It was a welcome warmth as she had come to realize just how drafty the castle was. And an unmistakable cue.
She ran her hands down his sides as she knelt, bringing them to rest on his thighs, her index fingers gripping the curvature of his buttocks as she relished the opportunity to finally touch him. He placed a bent finger beneath her chin and lifted it so they were eye to eye, hers still glittering with not-quite-tears.
“I like absolute and utter devotion,” he said. “I like knowing that you’ve willingly given yourself to me. I like submission to be obvious to the point where it’s practically written across your forehead. Actually…” He grabbed a Sharpie from his desk and uncapped it. She felt him mark six long straight lines, a short one, and a curvy one. ‘LIZ’S’, his name, she realized. It didn’t even register with her that the marks would last for days, or that people would see, she was just proud to wear such a badge.
He peeled off his shirt and for the second time she got to view his wiry frame, his subtle abs, his long muscled arms, the two shallow channels that made the top of a V, leading her south to his cock. She was impatiently curious to get a look at it. She vaguely remembered something pressing into her back as she’d fallen asleep, but wasn’t sure if that might just have been wishful thinking.
“Get ready,” he urged gently. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, trying to make the most appealing sight for him. She wished there was a full length mirror across from her so she could see what a whore she looked like. Naked. Kneeling. Shaved. Marked. The only thing left to do was to please him.
The time it took him to undo his belt seemed agonizing and cruel, but she didn’t dare move. She feared any motion would make the moment disappear entirely, that she’d find herself back in Pensacola having been ripped from one of the many dreams she’d had.
The shorts fell, leaving only boxers. Her knees started to ache at having been on the hard cement for several minutes, but she didn’t care. This was her place. Blissfully he wasted no more time, sliding the waistband of his underwear over the tip of his cock and down his legs.
The sight of his nudity finally broke her submissive façade as a grin crept across her face. She was his. There was little doubt about that now. She was irrevocably his. But in a way, he was about to become hers too. He was about to become something she’d never had before. She opened her mouth once more, giggling as a strand of drool escaped her and plopped onto the floor.
Liz laughed too. “You must really want it,” he said, stroking it idly. She nodded. “Ask and you shall receive.” He leaned forward, taking her by the chin again and guiding it into her mouth until it met resistance. She gagged a little but kept her composure, keeping her eyes locked on him, as if to ask, ‘am I doing a good job Sir?’
“Not bad,” he granted her. “Only two, two and a half inches short. Do you think you can learn to take it all?” She shrugged, causing him to laugh. “Do you think you can try, in time?” She nodded, chancing the indiscretion of wrapping her lips around it and running her tongue around his head. Liz shut his eyes momentarily and grinned, caressing her bare head. His approval and his enjoyment made her wet.
“You’ve done this before?” he asked. She nodded. “Well then… Suck.”
She immediately tried pressing further down on him, again finding the back of her throat and her annoying gag reflex in her way. Liz’s cock was ramrod straight, angling upward at a slight, but noticeable angle. That made for an easier motion, straight down and straight up. She licked the shaft, circling the head with her tongue, straining her eyes upward, watching her Master’s reactions, trying to figure out what worked and what didn’t. Liz was annoyingly quiet.
She felt another strand of drool escape her and saw it run down Liz’s leg and she at once felt mortified, though he seemed turned on by the mess, his cock pulsing and stiffening inside her. He kept his hands on her head, but only to touch her, not to push or guide her. He wanted her to find her own rhythm, he wanted her to invest herself in learning how to please him, not obey like a lifeless sex toy.
Her task took over her concentration. Up and down, up and down. She kept her eyes locked on his aside from a few moments of indiscretion to admire his cock. She loved feeling it between her lips, loved the way Liz moaned as she held them tight.
After several minutes in which she realized she’d been staring off into space, she felt his hand on her forehead, pushing her off, and for a moment she was worried she’d done something wrong, until she saw the look in his eyes as he bent over, taking her by the chin once more and kissing her, first softly, just barely touching her lips, then forcefully, dominating her, penetrating her with his tongue. She kissed him back, maintaining a passiveness so that he could run roughshod over her body. That was her desire, and in this moment it was his right.
“Stand. Now.” She barely had time to rush to her feet when his hands clamped down on her shoulders and spun her away from him. She could see him fumbling with something in the mirrors on the sides of the door, but couldn’t figure out what. She saw him approach her, but still jumped when she felt a cool wetness on her pussy, followed by one finger, then two.
“Ungh fuck,” she moaned. She felt like a failure for speaking out of turn, but Liz didn’t seem to mind. Soon his fingers were replaced by the tip of his cock. He wrapped his arms around her, one across her waist, one across her chest, pulling her in close as he slid himself into her. He had to stoop down to enter her so she stood on her tiptoes to give him more room, teetering around for a few seconds before he tightened his grip. She felt safe in his arms.
“Fuck,” she repeated, her tongue getting stuck on the K and drawing it out. It was the first time a cock had entered her without pain, and it felt good. She had no idea. Lubrication, that had been the missing ingredient. That and the intelligence and conscientiousness to use it. Liz cared…he wanted this to be as pleasurable for her as it was for him. She reached behind her, trying to find some part of him, any part of him to touch to show her thanks.
She settled for reaching back over her head, running her hands through his hair as he kissed her on the cheek and began to thrust into her, bringing new and more voluminous waves of pleasure with each motion.
“Can you cum from sex?” he asked.
“I don’t know, I never have,” she breathed. Words became hard to conjure. Somewhere along the path to her lips they wanted to lilt away, lost to what was happening below. “But I don’t mind,” she added. “Just keep going. Please Sir?”
“Of course I’m going to keep going, you’re here to get me off aren’t you?” she could feel the grin that came with it.
“Yes Sir,” she said emphatically, catching his eyes in the mirror and returning the smile.
“Ungh, Jesus,” she moaned as the pleasure overcame her again. He squeezed her tighter and she felt wonderfully restrained in his arms, with his body pressed up against her, his tall wiry form dominating hers. She could feel a latent strength coursing through him as he fucked her, as though there was this animalistic side to him simmering beneath the surface and that, in time, her submission and her obedience would bring it out.
For now he was controlling, but gentle, and she appreciated that greatly, that he was so in tune with her, that he knew just what to do to mitigate her nerves, to navigate and placate her uncertainties.
“Unh yeah,” he moaned, his upper hand wrapped around her neck, his lower hand squeezed her breasts. She knew that feeling, knew he was about to cum. And now she had become less than a person, she had become an object of his pleasure. The realization sent her spiraling off into parts unknown. She closed her eyes and the room dropped away and she became only aware of his hands and his cock. He squeezed hard. Harder. Just hard enough to hurt, but it was a good hurt, a hurt that reminded her of her duty and her place.
“Unnnh,” he moaned and she felt his cock stiffen, felt his thrusts grow erratic, felt his muscles tense. She wished she could feel the warmth of his cum, but the condom and the tingling of her pussy kept that joy from her.
But the joy of having pleasured him was omnipresent, wrapped around her, holding her, squeezing her, kissing her, sliding itself into her mouth. She thought for a brief second she might cum herself, but too soon the moment was gone and her senses started to return.
Liz’s grip weakened, and he slid himself out of her, moaning as her tight pussy gripped his over-sensitive cock. He wobbled for a bit, the strain of the position finally catching up with his legs and his clumsy weary fingers struggled with the condom.
“Let me,” she said, dropping to her knees again, her much smaller hands able to slide it off without spilling. She tied it off quickly in a neat knot and tossed it in the trash can under his desk before turning back to his cum covered cock. She wanted to suck it, but she knew he was too sensitive. She’d gotten a hand to the face for trying that once. But she wanted some measure of closeness.
Luckily Liz stepped in where her shyness and her submission had failed, taking her by the hands and helping her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go shower,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and grabbing his shower tray. She took stock of their bodies and laughed. They were a mess, between the cum and her wetness, and the lube, and discarded bits of hair which covered her shoulders and his chest and she could only imagine where else. It was a good thing they hadn’t used the bed, though she suspected that perhaps that was why Liz had taken her standing up. He did always seem to be one step ahead.
“Forgetting something?” he said, leading her to the door, but stopping with his hand on the knob.
Panic ran through her for a moment before she smiled and the words came to her.
“Thank you Sir.”