Sinners On Tour 03 Hot Ticket (10 page)

Jace stood on Aggie’s stoop, one index finger on her door buzzer, the other aimed at his temple as a mock pistol barrel. What was he doing here? He’d promised himself he wouldn’t come.

The door opened to the annoyed scowl of a cranky redhead. “Aggie!” Aggie’s mother turned and screamed into the house. “Another one of your
freaks
is here!”

This woman really knew how to make Jace’s balls wither to the size of raisins. Aggie emerged from behind the door. She didn’t say a word, but the look she gave him—like he was the vilest piece of shit on the planet—had those raisins back to full size in an instant. She opened the door wider and turned, stalking toward the sanctum, her full hips rocking side to side with each step.

Panting, Jace followed.

“Close the fucking door, Maynard! You’re letting out the AC,” Aggie’s mother yelled. How had that woman given birth to the luscious, sensual creature that was Aggie?

Jace closed the door and followed Aggie into the sanctum. She slid the door closed, startling him. When he turned to look at her, she locked it. Her eyes were as cold as arctic steel. He didn’t know if she was actually pissed at him or if it was all an act. Its source didn’t matter. Her glare made his cock swell uncomfortably in his jeans.

Her gaze unwavering, Aggie backed him into a corner. She slid her riding crop under the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it a few inches. Her eyebrows rose, and she didn’t have to tell him what she wanted twice. He peeled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She lashed him across the belly, and his entire body jerked. The tip of her crop disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. She slid it further down, along the entire length of his cock, and then pulled the crop free. Again she raised her eyebrows at him, but said nothing.

Shuddering, he released his fly and pulled his cock free of his pants. It stood at rigid attention between them. She didn’t strike him for obeying her. Just continued to stare at him and wait. What did she want?

“Aggie?”

She shoved a ball into his mouth and fastened the gag around his head. He’d told her last night that he didn’t like to be gagged. When he lifted his hands to release the gag’s buckle, she turned and strode away in that prowling cat walk she’d perfected. He lowered his hands, the gag still in place, and watched her move toward the table where her whips and paddles rested from least to most vicious in a neat line. She set the riding crop down, third in line, after a small paddle and a larger wooden one, and selected her fourth tool—three whips on a short handle. She glanced over her shoulder and gave the clothes on the lower half of his body a pointed look.

Did she want him naked? Would she hit him if he did what she wanted?

He pulled off his boots and shucked his pants, kicking them aside. Wearing nothing but his socks, he waited. She smiled at him coldly and sashayed her way back in his direction. She turned him to face the wall. He felt the cool leather of the three whips slide sensually over his naked back, buttocks, between his legs to tease his balls, his asshole, up his back again to his shoulders. She lashed him once, twice, between the shoulder blades. Sweet, sweet agony. His cock twitched in anticipation. She didn’t give him more though. Something cold wrapped around his neck and tightened just short of choking him. A collar? Was she really that determined to treat him like a fucking dog? She leaned against his back, the luscious globes of her breasts pressing into his flesh. She slid the tails of her whip up and down his belly. Whenever the ends of the lashes brushed his cock, he tensed. Concentrating on sensation, he relaxed. He didn’t even notice the cuffs attached to his collar until she had his left wrist immobilized in one.

Jace grabbed the collar’s fastening with his free hand. He’d had enough of this. She had no right to—

Her whip cracked against his ass. He went still, relishing the pain.
Oh
yes.
That’s what he needed. She struck him again and again until he went limp against the wall, his face pressed into the padding. That’s when she secured his free hand to the other cuff attached to his collar. Now that she had both his hands trapped and useless, she grabbed him roughly by the collar and turned him to face her.

“You do not treat me with disregard,” she growled.

Jace’s brow furrowed with confusion. Disregard? What did she mean?

“I am in control.”

Yeah, fine, she was in control. Was she going to hit him some more?

She fastened a leash to his collar and tugged him out of the corner. His first instinct was to fight. He struggled to repress that urge as she pulled him down to the floor on his knees. He stared venom at her for treating him this way.

Aggie stood over him, gazing down with confusion in her pretty blue eyes. “You really don’t like this, do you? To be treated like a dog?”

He shook his head.

“Huh. I thought you were just putting on a tough guy act. It really is just the pain you want.”

I
tried
to
tell
you
that
, he wanted to yell, but couldn’t because she’d gagged him.

“Do you want me to free you?”

He nodded.

“Too bad. You need to be taught a lesson.”

Why?
he tried to say. It came out as a muddled sound deep in his throat.

“You made me submit to you and then the minute you finished getting off, you discarded me. You wouldn’t even come in my mouth.”

The tears in her eyes totally threw him for a loop. He hadn’t discarded her. He couldn’t think of anything but her all day. Not even when he should have been worrying about Trey’s injury and recovery. And he’d just assumed she wouldn’t
want
him to come in her mouth. Most women didn’t like it. He had pulled out as a courtesy, not as part of some stupid dominance game. Why was she twisting everything around?

“I hate you for making me feel like this,” she said.

She shoved him down on his back.

“This needy, stupid, totally mixed up weakling is not me, Jace.” She glared at him. “You will come in my mouth this time. Do you understand?”

He was strangely glad she’d gagged him at that point, because he would have laughed at her demands. Silly woman. She didn’t have to restrain him for that. He nodded obediently to make her happy. Or himself happy, he wasn’t sure which.

Aggie lowered her head and sucked his cock into her mouth. His body jerked in response. One of her hands massaged his nuts. The other gently twisted the base of his shaft while she sucked the head of his cock into the back of her throat. She remembered their rhythm and used it relentlessly, as she swallowed him and withdrew, swallowed him and withdrew. He groaned against his gag, his hands tightening into fists in his restraints. This much pleasure couldn’t be right. He closed his eyes and let the feelings consume him. The tug. The heat. The friction. Slick. Moist. Pulling at him. Pulling. His orgasm approached within minutes. Something about her dominating him and then admitting that he made her weak pushed him to the edge of bliss quickly. His body tightened with inevitable release, and she cracked her flail hard against his lower belly. He erupted in her mouth with a strangled cry, his muscles rigid as he let go of everything for a few moments of blissful surrender. She allowed his fluids to fill her mouth before she swallowed. He lay there, trembling in the aftermath, trying to catch his breath by sucking air through his nose. She lifted her head and stared at him for a few minutes. “I have another lesson for you.”

If this lesson was anything like the first, he was more than ready to learn.

Aggie went to her table and returned with a black cloth sack. She slipped it over his head. The room was tinted black as he stared through the gauzy material. He could see just fine, and he could breathe. He realized she couldn’t see his face like this. Was that her purpose? So she didn’t have to look at him?

“Stay,” she said, before leaving him lying there on the cold floor, his leash lying loose beside him. He tilted his head and watched her walk into the second room of her sanctum. She returned a moment later with a big, muscular man on a leash. He was hooded, but otherwise unrestrained.

“Kneel, Loser,” she growled at the man.

“Yes, Mistress V.” He dropped to his knees, bent over her boots, and rubbed his leather-encased face over her feet and ankles with feverish reverence.

He noticed Jace lying naked-with-socks on the floor and glanced up at his dominatrix in question.

“Don’t look at me directly.”

He averted his gaze.

“We’re going to show this misbehaving slave the proper way to respect his mistress. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes, Mistress V.”

She ran his leash through a metal loop in the floor and pulled until his face was pressed against the ground. On his knees with his shoulders on the floor, and his ass sticking straight up in the air, Loser’s balls and dick swung freely beneath him.

“Hold,” she said and handed him his own leash. He held himself in that position while Aggie went to retrieve the thick rectangular paddle from the table. She returned to Loser and stepped on the back of his neck with one boot.

“How many do you want?”

“Five.”

“Only five? What are you? A fucking pussy? Say it.”

“I’m a pussy.”

“How many do you want?”

“Six, six. Please, Mistress V.”

She drew her arm back and hit his ass with a resounding crack. His flesh distorted to the shape of the paddle then settled back into place, a bright red shade. He grunted in pain. Mistress V drew her arm back again and hit the guy’s ass in the exact same spot. This time he cried out hoarsely. Jace stared up at Aggie, watching her relish her power as she smacked her slave’s ass a third time. A fourth. Loser, or whatever the hooded man’s name was, whimpered in anguish, but did not call for mercy. And his cock had grown harder with each strike. Jace’s had as well. Not from watching another man’s pain. From seeing the absolute joy on Aggie’s face as she gave this man exactly what he wanted. Loser didn’t deserve her attention. And neither did Jace.

After the sixth strike, Aggie removed her foot from the back of Loser’s head and rubbed his red ass with one hand. “Do you want more?”

“Plug me, Mistress V. Please. Please.”

“I don’t think you screamed loud enough to be plugged.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress V.” He gasped, literally in tears. “I’ll do better. Three more, please.”

She struck him three times in succession, and if she didn’t think he screamed loud enough this time, she was in need of a hearing aid. “Good boy,” she crooned. “Release.”

He let go of his leash and belly-crawled to her feet. “May I?” he whispered. “May I?”

“You may.”

Again he rubbed his face against her boots like an affectionate cat, crooning softly to her feet as she stood there and allowed it.

“Do you still want the plug?” she asked.

He started trembling uncontrollably and rubbed his face over her boots. “Y-yes, Mistress V. T-thank you.”

She nudged him aside and disappeared into the room she’d retrieved Loser from earlier. Jace wanted to ask the guy what kind of plug, but he was still gagged. Loser was avoiding looking at him anyway. It wasn’t as though Jace would recognize him if he met him on the street. His face was completely obscured by the hood. Jace’s by the black bag.

Aggie stalked back into the room, her heels clicking on the cement floor. “Assume the position.”

On his knees again, Loser planted his face on the floor, grabbed his ass cheeks in both hands and pulled them apart. Aggie took something thick, black, and glistening and inserted it into the guy’s anus. Jace flinched when she lifted one foot, pressed it against the end of the plug, and pushed it deep into the guy’s ass with a solid kick. Loser shuddered and then grabbed his dick in both hands, stroking himself in earnest. Aggie smacked his ass with the paddle again.

“No. No touching yourself until you beg for mercy.”

He released his cock, breathing hard as he struggled to contain his excitement. Aggie paddled him relentlessly now. Not as hard as before, but without pause. Hitting him so the vibration would travel through that butt plug he enjoyed. Whimpering, crying, writhing on the floor, Loser found some glorious place where pain became pleasure. After several minutes, he sputtered, “Mercy, Mistress V. Mercy.”

Though she was obviously worked up by her ministrations, her arm halted in mid-swing. She relaxed her stance. “You may proceed.”

Loser grabbed his cock and started jacking-off excitedly.

“If you get that on my floor, I’m going to make you lick it up,” she warned him.

When he sputtered with release a few seconds later, she was a woman of her word. She unzipped the mouth of his hood and forced him to lick his own cum off the floor—except she wasn’t actually forcing him. He was doing it quite willingly, eager to please his mistress. Once he’d cleaned the floor to her satisfaction, she allowed him to kiss her boots. Jace couldn’t believe making out with some chick’s boots could excite a man so much, but Loser was undoubtedly enjoying his privilege. He sucked them with his open mouth, his tongue rolling over their shiny black surfaces. He made delighted sounds in the back of his throat the entire time.

“Go clean up now,” Aggie said. “And take your butt plug with you.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for your mercy.”

Loser crawled into the second room.

“Don’t come out of there until I tell you to.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Aggie leaned over Jace and pulled the cloth from his face.

“Do you get it now?” she asked.

Jace had gotten it from the beginning, but he wasn’t like most masochists. He didn’t need the little show to accept his punishment. He knew he deserved it whether she thought he did or not.

He rolled onto his back, his hard cock pointing at the ceiling.

She sucked a breath through her teeth when she saw the evidence of his excitement. “Damn it, Jace. Why are you hard again? Did you like watching me make a grown man cry?”