Here for Shaye (7 page)

Dallas assaulted her pussy, clamped his large hands
on her hips.

Shaye tried to lift away but couldn't, he held her
down. She wiggled above him, moved around, tried to escape, but Sir
pressed one hand on the small of her back. She stilled.

One man held her hips, the other pushed on her back,
the chain between her teeth tightened. "Oh, I’m going to come. I
will, I will, no mercy, no mercy. You have no mercy!"

Sir’s feet planted firmly on the ground, the large
tip of his cock at her entrance. "Yeah?!" He yanked her hair and
turned her head to the side. His eyes were bright, hazel, and
excited. He touched his lips against hers, and said, “You like how
I let him eat your pussy don’t you?”

She squeezed her eyes. Oh God she would come right
now. “Mercy, mercy, mercy…”

He shook her by her hair. “Don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Look at you. My little puppy is a big slut isn’t
she?”

“Yes.”

“Mhm.”

Sir jabbed his cock in her ass then covered her
mouth with his hand. Beneath it she gasped for air, her lungs
arrested, eyes almost rolled in the back of her head. Burn! Burn!
Burn! Her asshole burned. Tears trailed down her face. Her screams
muffled with his hand, her teeth dug into the chain, her lip caught
between and bled. Sir glided in out of her ass, Shaye sobbed when
Dallas stuck three of his fingers inside her pussy. Full, she was
full.

When Sir slapped several times over the spot where
her lip bled, she muffled a cry.

Her walls shuttered when he picked up the pace.

The collar dug into her skin as he pulled on her
leash.

She couldn't think anymore, she couldn't see, didn't
know, she barely recognized her own name.

Lost in lust, she sucked the blood on her lip,
tugged the chain in her mouth, and pulled hard until the clamps
sprung from her nipples. When Sir bit her shoulder, she screamed
her release and would've fallen if Sir didn't hold her up.

Only to use her some more.

Weight pressed on her body. She willed her eyelids
to open to his hazel ones. He pushed himself inside her then glided
in and out of her with ease as his hands, behind her neck, removed
the collar. When he buried his head into the crook of her smooth
neck and touched his lips to her skin, she stretched her hands
above her head and watched, yet again, the sunrays play over the
tent's roof. Last night, she didn't topple the house, though the
sky might as well fall on her now. Metal snaps of the collar
clicked when they hit the ground. Deep inside her, his cock loved
her.

Sir fucked her, slow and gentle, only stopping for a
second to lift her ass with the palm of his hand and anchor himself
deeper inside. She gasped, hitched a breath, when he hit her spot.
He rose above her, strong and masculine, and her hands, like a
mannequin’s, rested on his chest while their eyes locked. Hers
misted with tears, though not the sad kind, just the outpour of
emotion kind.

She didn't think this man could be gentle while he
took that which was his to take. After yesterday morning, she
didn't think they were here for morning gentle sex. It spoke to her
of commitment regardless of the lost leather on the floor. Morning
sex, so very vanilla and beautiful just as much as the things they
did last night, lifted her spirits. Under him, Shaye moaned, not
sure of their future but this moment she kept for herself. She
raised her head and kissed his mouth.

Sir lowered his lips to hers, keeping to one side of
her mouth. The other was swollen. He kissed her, his tongue sought
entrance inside and she let it brush against hers. He was
everything she needed, a storm that threatened to sweep away the
single, small, island in the middle of the sea. Alone on Earth, the
storm had its way with the island, lifted its defenses and replaced
them with rain, food for the lands after years of drought. She was
grateful for this weekend.

They didn't speak. They didn't feel the need to rob
the moment of silence. Silence lived in the dark corners of the
words. She sucked his bottom lip when his body tensed, and she
lifted up to meet his thrusts, rub her clit on his pelvis. They
found their release quietly, lost in the confusion of their
joining.

Sir propped his forearms around her head, and lifted
his body, his cock leaving her empty. She pouted. Eyes on the right
side of her lip he said, “I iced it last night. Good Morning,
Shaye."

He didn't call her his puppy, and she felt her heart
chip, a small piece of it fell next to the collar. Did she
misunderstand the morning sex? He said it happened to him in the
past when his submissives wanted more. He was so good at what he
did, Shaye slipped into a routine of sitting by his feet in two
days. She swallowed her loses, kept them for when she was alone and
said, "Good Morning, S—"

"Robert,” he said. “Let’s break for a bit." He
kissed the split corner of her lip.

"Okay." She fisted her hands.

"You fell asleep on the floor. It's like you have a
switch and it shut off. Never seen that before."

He appeared worried, his eyes roamed over her face.
"I'm fine, had a great time." Her nipples tingled, her lip was
swollen, her neck felt scratched, and she'd enjoy sitting on her
marked ass on the ride home. She touched the side of her face, felt
abrasions, and smiled. "Great time. You?"

"I put cream on your ass, massaged it for ten
minutes and you slept through it all." He shook his head. "In the
end, I sat back and checked your pulse."

"Oh!" She didn't think her deep sleep troubled him,
but off course it would. Exhausted from the day on the ski, the sun
on her skin, and the night in between her men, she rested. "I'm
sorry, I'm a deep sleeper and after a night like that, I guess I
was tired."

"Yeah," he sat up, his feet hit the ground.
Standing, he removed a condom and threw it in the plastic grocery
bag next to…the vacant floor space.

"You've packed." Only his big cooler and the
mattress still remained in the tent, their clothes folded on top of
it in neat piles.

"Took a call this morning. Had to take it, so I'm
heading out early." He walked to the cooler, threw on a white
t-shirt and jeans then sat back on the mattress and started on his
boots. Shaye willed her soles on the floor and shuffled, checking
if they were as tender as her ass. Good to go. She needed to hurry
and get out of his way, let him fold the tent, finish up the
weekend. "Do you need help with anything?"

"Dallas said he'd pack it for me, so you'll take it
back with you.”

Shorts, shirt and flip-flops on, she watched him
open the cooler.

Gun harness around his waist, a black—not a worn
brown—wallet tucked in the back of his jeans, he faced her, his
feet shoulders apart. Like Friday, she didn't linger. She walked to
him and hugged his waist. His shirt didn't smell like cologne this
time, only clean detergent. "Thank you," she cleared her throat,
"Robert. Don't be a stranger."

He padded her back and kissed the top of her head.
She buried her nose in his chest and inhaled passed the lump in her
throat. What a shame. She really liked him.

"What's SS35 stand for?" he said.

"Shaye Stein. March 5
^th
is my birthday." He could take her name and
her birthday. She didn't care seeing as she lost the collar. Maybe
he'd even cut her lose tonight when she checked in. He didn't
comment on her probe about their relationship.

"Up here."

His eyes weren't sad, not even a little bit. They
were hard and a smile tugged on his lips. They watched each other
for a while before Shaye decided to say, "If you tell me why, I'd
learn from it. Like this, I'm walking out of here dumbfounded. I
don't think that's too much to ask."

Robert took her face between his hands. "Watching
you now, I'm thinking I'm evil."

"It’s okay, you're not evil. I'm not your girl
that's all. Shit happens, right?" Wrong, but what else could she
say? He made up his mind and she didn't beg, not now. She did her
best over the weekend, she was herself the entire time and if he
didn't like it, then it would just come up later when they were
both too far in to give up easy. She couldn't change who she was,
only do the best she could in hopes it would please him. It
didn't.

She felt a cold weight settle over her chest, like
the air froze in the middle of the summer. When tears threatened,
she covered with a smile.

He tilted his head. "I like you. I like you far too
much for my own good, but I got to get to work. Call me when you
arrive home." He kissed her forehead, lingered for few seconds then
left.

Shaye stood in the tent. Dumbfounded. Were they
still doing their long distance thing or did he leave her for his
own good? Because he liked her too much. What a sorry ass excuse.
Shit! She kicked the stupid air mattress then jumped on it combing
for the plug, actively, yet again, ignoring the collar on the
floor. In the upper corner, she found the plug, and yanked it open.
Air whistled out. She beat the mattress and stomped her feet until
it lay battered, flat on the floor.

She stomped on it some more.

"Easy there killer," came from the door. Dallas,
dressed in blue shorts, tight yellow shirt, and blue flip-flops,
waved. That mouth that didn't smile as much this morning was on her
pussy last night. Oh man, what now? "We okay?" she asked.

"Yep, we cool," he licked his lips and wiggled his
eyebrows.

They were good. At least she had that. She turned
back to the mattress, stepped on the ground and started to fold it.
Dallas gave her space, weary of the angry, sad, and crazy. She
worked on the mattress, kept busy, got her head on straight for the
drive home. She yanked the folded mattress and dragged it outside,
while Dallas unhooked the ropes of the tent.

The sun beat down on the Earth like a mighty Viking.
It packed about a hundred degrees this Sunday morning. The sky was
blue, not a storm cloud above her. The river ran its course,
oblivious to her breaking heart. All around her happy birds chirped
in the trees. She stomped feet away from the harmony, and dragged
the air-deprived mattress all the way to the street.

Once Dallas finished folding the tent, they loaded
the cooler in the trunk of her car. As she tried to fit the big
thing inside the trunk, something kicked the sides. She flipped
open the top. A clear plastic bag. Shaye picked up the bag,
unzipped it, and took out an inch thick leather collar. Pet store
tag, no price. She read a note he left her:

My sweet puppy,

How I LOVE to watch you squirm. Plan to make a hobby
out of it. Hope you like your collar and I'll put it on next time I
see you. Do not wear it before, but you can look at it as much as
you want. ;) Tonight, same place same time. Be a little late would
you? Not that I need an excuse.

Yours,

Robert Hart

P. S. I'll miss you.

Shaye slammed the trunk closed, and hopped on top of
it, wincing when her sore ass hit the warm metal. Later in the
afternoon, at home, her back to the mirror, she would admire his
work but for now, she read his note again. He'd miss her. Miss her!
She cupped her face and laughed then let the pretty sky bathe her
face. It was a good morning after all. Damn him. Beside her Dallas
snorted, holding back laughter.

“Did you know?"

"Dude," he held up his palms, "he was worried last
night. It was like you were in a coma. Wow, crazy shit, so when he
finished up tending, cleaning you up, he got to work around the
tent. Man on a mission, all caveman and shit. Said he'd make you
pay for it. I think he was having fun though. He seemed like
it."

"And you? What were you doing?"

"Eating burgers." He shrugged. "Man can cook, but
needed more hot sauce. Saved you some in my cooler." He hopped off
the trunk, and headed for the passenger seat. "Come on, let’s head
out."

Shaye drove home, air conditioning to maximum, rock
station playing in the background. Once in a while, she stole a
quick glance at her lap where a note and a leather collar with a
new tag rested safely on her bare legs. Sir bought two collars. One
for the weekend and one for the keeps. Gotta love a sadist. She
thumped her head on the headrest and smiled. Serving Sir was an
adventure. He made her feel sexy, used, and dirty, but never freaky
or different. Dallas was there for her, too. She took her friend's
hand and squeezed, acknowledging his support.

- THE END -

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and
raised in a non-English speaking household, Misty fluently curses
in all languages available to her and parties with the characters
in her books after she's picked up dolls, puzzles, and legos from
the tiled floors of a home she shares with her Husband

...and kids.

Shadowed under humor, her books often touch the dark
side but hey, there's always romance and, after a series of
dreadful events, a Happily Ever After where ponies fly over
rainbows.

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