Spirit of Submission Read online

  “Fucking whore,” he growled, his lips moving against her throat.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh! Ung! Ungh! Ungh!” she gasped as his fingers thrust into her.

  “You like that, slut?” he growled. “You like it?”

  “D-Don't!” she gasped.

  She was burning up! She ground herself helplessly against his fingers and found herself kissing him back, moaning, gulping in breaths as their tongue twined together like angry snakes.

  He drew back with a smirk, leaving her half hanging by her wrists, gulping in air, face and chest flushed with heat.

  “You look like a bitch in heat,” he said with a sneer. “I guess maybe you haven't been getting much!”

  “Look who's talki – ungh!”

  Her attempt at a retort ended with a slap that made her ear ring and spun her head to the side. She gasped in shock, then felt the heat surging even higher as his hand thrust in between her legs again, fingering her roughly.

  Her slim hips ground helplessly against him, and she moaned as he bit into the nape of her neck, then roughly groped her breast. He pinched her nipple, twisted it, pulled it outwards so she cried out weakly, then his hand went around her throat again, shutting off her breath.

  She stared up at him, eyes wild, moaning, body writhing as his fingers pumped inside her. His eyes were dark and angry, and she shuddered in heat at the way he was manhandling her, at the way he was using her – just like – just like Sean had, she suddenly realized.

  He pulled back from her, leaving her gasping, gulping in air, almost hanging by her wrists again, light-headed. He faded into the shadows, and for a dazed moment she wondered if he was going to leave her like this, to spend the night tied up. The thought was wild and exciting, though daunting.

  In the shadows, he was working something loose from a bulky thing in the corner, and when he returned she saw it was a long, thin strap which secured the pool cover. She blinked in astonishment, fear and wicked dark heat blossoming in her mind as he roughly grasped her shoulder and spun her around, facing the pillar.

  Gasping, she made no resistance, filled with disbelief, with fear, with anxiety – with hope and heat.

  “Ungh!” she gasped as it cut across her bottom.

  Another blow arrived quickly, then another, and another, stinging blows that made her jerk and twist and writhe against the belt binding her. His hand was a blur as she twisted and cried out, her bottom soon flaming hot as he brought the strap down.

  “Bastard!” she gasped. “I-it doesn't even h-hurt!”

  The next blow landed across her back and she cried out, shocked, delighted, fearful, aroused. Another blow struck her lower back then another sliced into the flesh across her shoulders. Blow after blow, as fast as he could swing struck her from shoulders to thighs until she finally broke and sobbed helplessly, legs going out from under her so that only the tight grip of the belt around her wrists kept her from falling.

  He stopped, then she gasped aloud as he gripped her hair. She was forced up onto her toes, her head jerked up and back.

  He released her hair, grasped her hips, jerking them back, and then she felt something hot and hard pressing up between her thighs. Shocked disbelief filled her again that he dared, then she felt his hard cock pushing up into her pussy.

  He was big! He was so big! He was deliciously big! His big, strong hands jerked her thighs apart, and he pushed himself slowly but firmly up into her tight, wet depths. Spirit's eyes widened and then the orgasm exploded within her lower belly.

  The orgasm tore at her mind, at her senses, and she jerked and thrashed and writhed in its grip as her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost control of her body.

  And always there was that big, hard, hot cock filling her, pushing even deeper so that her mind reveled in the hot, slutty, wild, wicked nasty depravity of it.

  “F-Fuck!' she half sobbed as he pushed still more of it into her.

  It hurt! But Jesus God it hurt so good!

  His fingers were like steel on her thighs, forcing her ass back against him, holding her legs spread so that her toes barely touched the stone underfoot. He ground himself against her, then started to pump. In and out. In and out. In-out-in-out. Faster, then faster still as she gasped and jerked and moaned to the hard, violent thrusts.

  She was crying out with every thrust, head jerking up and down, jaw slack, eyes wide as his stiff prick rammed up into her aching, burning pussy. She let her forward half hang from her wrists, whimpering, overawed by the wild dark heat of it, grunting and gasping as he pounded into her.

  God! God! God! God! God! God!

  And then his right hand, gripping her thigh, pushed down and in, and she felt the tip of his long finger against her clit. Her eyes bulged and she cried out helplessly as he began to roughly stroke against her. Another orgasm tore through her mind and she rutted back helplessly against his hard, pounding cock, impaling herself again and again in a frenzy of feverish need.

  “That's it,” he panted. “Come, you fucking whore! Come on my cock, you filthy little slut!”

  His other hand shot up and gripped her throat, and the orgasm redoubled as he squeezed, as her eyes bulged and the sensations screamed through her nervous system. The orgasm clawed at her mind, at her consciousness, as she sought to scream in ecstasy again and again, and found no breath to do so.

  Bright white dots danced before her eyes as the world spun around her, and the orgasm seemed to have no end as she gave herself wholly to its delicious power.

  He pulled his hand away just before she lost consciousness, gripping her thighs again, pounding into her from behind as she hung by her wrists, his hands holding her hips back and out, legs apart so he could ram himself up into her aching, dripping sex.

  She moaned dazedly, wondering wildly if he was going to fuck her forever.

  Then he jammed himself so deep inside her she thought he was going to punch through into her belly, and ground himself against her before slowly softening and sliding back and out.

  He released her hips and she hung against the post, slack-jawed, moaning weakly, disoriented.

  Chapter Three

  It did not even occur to Spirit to tell anyone about what Davie's father had done to her. In part, this was because she was indignant and resentful at having been so easily overcome, and by an old man at that. She liked to put on the attitude of a tough chick, and he'd used her like a little bitch. God, how he'd used her!

  There was no way she was going to confess that to anyone, and certainly not to some stern faced cop who'd probably leer at her as she described what had happened. Oh no!

  Plus it would only cause trouble for Davie, who she was not quite ready to give up on yet.

  But she wasn't exactly cowering and pacing because of her mistreatment. She felt full of energy and excitement, as alive as she'd been in months. She had danced wildly at the club the next day and on into the night, flirting with everyone in sight, giggling whenever she was groped, making out with one of the girls just to taunt the watching, applauding guys at their table, full of girlish sexuality and preening self-confidence.

  Her friend Sara, who knew her very well, had commented that Davie must have been especially good in the sack the previous night, and she just winked at her.

  Yes, indeed. She had been fucked and fucked HARD.

  She could still almost feel the echo of that last tremendous orgasm!

  She had been forced to completely reassess her image of the man. She remembered what he said, about what it took to own a place like that. Unlike Jamie, he hadn't had a rich old man to do it. He'd done it on his own.

  He must have been smart, and probably tough. Oh yes, he was tough, all right. He had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and batted her around like a helpless kitten. He was a strong man, both physically and mentally.

  And yet the strap had left no marks on her body, at least, not that lasted beyond the night. Her wrists were a little red, but the cloth belt had been silky soft, and for all him half c
hoking her to death there were no bruises on her throat. That told her he'd not been as out of control as he had pretended. He had controlled his strength, which meant there was still more of it available. That made her squirm a little with excitement - and fear.

  Strong men. Strong men who defied the rules. Strong men who made their own rules. Bad boys. Suddenly Jamie's father was taking on that aura. She'd always been turned on by guys like that. The problem, for her, was that most of them were low-class assholes as likely to beat you to a pulp as to fuck you good and hard.

  Bad boys were fun on occasion, but unless you wanted to be living in a trailer park with a guy whose beer belly stuck out from under his wife-beater shirt they were not people to get serious about.

  But Jamie's father was a sophisticated, successful, wealthy man who clearly had as much self-control as he felt he needed to have. He'd practically fucking whipped her! She was still in awe that he had the balls to do that.

  She didn't resent him for it. She knew very well she had been acting like a cock tease and a bitch, and had deserved it too. It had been a long time since she'd found a man who could manhandle her like that, who had the balls to do it, and who wasn't a loser creep.

  Of course he was married. But it wasn't like his wife was much to look at, and she acted like a shrew. They even slept in separate bedrooms!

  Not that she was considering even for a moment anything long term with the man. That had been a stunningly hot little bit of nasty fucking, and she wouldn't mind repeating it a time or two, but the man was literally old enough to be her father! Not, she noted, that he was old and weak and decrepit, though. Maybe he used that exercise room.

  * * *

  The ecstasy she’d taken at the club was still making her feel hyper and energetic, and Spirit felt an intense frustration at Davie’s lack of response. And, on the other hand, she knew where she could get the wild, hot sex she craved, the same place she’d gotten it the previous night. But how to do it? She certainly wasn’t going to wander into the old bastard’s room and throw herself at him. That just so wasn’t her!

  She remembered him shoving her against the post, remembered the gun in her mouth, the cold steel between her lips, and shuddered with excitement, her hand darting down between her legs to give herself a little squeeze.

  * * *

  “Well, I can’t say it sounds like you have much to complain about.”

  David snorted and shook his head as Roy took another drink of his imported beer. The two had been friends for decades, had started out in the construction business together. Roy now owned a large construction company, while David had moved on to real estate.

  “I have to admit, the little slut was a wildcat,” he said. “And I haven’t heard any repercussions yet. She doesn’t strike me as the weepy type either.”

  “You’ll still be lucky if she doesn’t blackmail you. There’s money to be made, after all.”

  “She can explain how she came like a bitch in heat,” David snorted.

  “No, she’ll just deny it and pretend she’s a little lost girl abused by the big, mean millionaire. Trust me, I’ve been there. You’ll be lucky if the little slut doesn’t come after you for money. Next time document it.”

  David looked absently away from the TV, where they were watching a late night football game from California. “What?”

  “Record her voice or get it on video.”

  “Oh right. I’ll tell her to sign a consent form!”

  “Don’t you have cameras around this place for security?

  “Only at the front gate.”

  ‘You might consider putting some out back in case there’s a repeat of this.”

  “I doubt that will happen again,” David said with some amused regret. “It’s not every day I fuck a twenty one year old girl.”

  “Well more’s the pity. You’ve got plenty of money and I know more than a few twenty something girls who’ll take it and do anything you want.”

  “Hookers have never really interested me.”

  “I’m talking high class, high priced girls, college girls earning money on the side, normal girls, clean girls.”

  David smiled and shrugged.

  The phone rang and he frowned, checked his watch, and picked it up. “No, he said after a moment. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t believe it,” he said, putting the phone down. “I think the little slut is out there again.”

  “Really? If so it could be a trap, you know! Where’s your camera? You have a good video camera that can take videos at night?”

  “Well… yeah but I’m not into being a porn star, Al. Not at my age.”

  Al grinned. “You should see some of the vids I’ve made,” he chuckled.

  “No, thanks. I’ve seen enough of your hairy ass to last a lifetime.”

  The two might be wealthy and middle aged now but they weren’t always. As young construction workers they’d indulged in bar fights and wild partying.

  * * *

  It was dejavu all over again, as they said. When Dave and Al stepped out into the shadows beneath the overhanging roof they saw the girl swimming slowly back and forth in the pool. The moon was stronger tonight but it was still impossible to say who exactly it was, other than a female wearing little or no clothes.

  Al nudged him forward with a grin, and Dave, muttering under his breath, stepped out from the shadows. He had the gun again because Al had said it would show that he had feared a burglar. It was empty, though. He’d made sure of that.

  * * *

  Spirit saw him moving out of the shadows and felt a sense of dark hot pleasure. Sexual electricity crackled subtly across the length of her skin, especially across her breasts and between her legs as she deliberately eased to the edge of the pool and reached up to the ladder.

  She pulled herself slowly up its length, feeling the water trickling down between her breasts, down between her legs, and then stood, posed, in silhouette, sliding her hands up to smooth her wet hair back and wring it out.

  She turned her head as she stepped out onto the pavement and smirked.

  “Oh, you again. You brought your big gun again, I see,” she said with a sneer.

  She sighed mockingly and rolled her eyes, then turned her back to him and drew her wrists back behind her, crossing them. “Are you going to tie me up again so I don’t hurt you?” she said tauntingly.

  She was calm, casual, and gave no hint of the swirling excitement within her, of the way her heart was pounding and her pulse racing, or the heat and anticipation gripping her body and mind.

  She was not completely surprised to feel his hands on her arms, but felt a sense of shock, then a dramatic flood of heat and wild, churning excitement as he slipped something under her arms -- his belt, then yanked it back and looped it around them at the elbows. She gasped as her shoulders were jerked roughly back, her arms crossed at the elbows and pinned tightly together so her hands stuck feebly out on either side.

  “Hey!” she complained, feigning indignation.

  She didn‘t have to feign startlement when he jerked her backwards by the hair, gasping as he sat down on a marble bench then pulled her down so she was sitting astride his lap, head forced back.

  What are you doing, you pig!? Are you going to attack me again!?”

  “Is that what you want, slut?” he growled. “Is that why you‘re out here again naked? Because you need a stiff prick inside you?”

  He took out the gun and eased up on her hair, letting her head come forward, caressing her damp face with the long, steel barrel.

  “Do long, hard things excite you, baby?” he asked in a low growl.

  “Only men who don‘t have long hard things need to play with guns,” she said, panting. “Do you want me to pleasure your… gun?”

  She licked at the barrel teasingly, and he obligingly moved it closer, letting her lick along the barrel. He turned it towards her and she slid her lips over the end. He slid it deeper along her tongue, through her lips, and
she moaned around it, her lips puckered as she sucked.

  “You‘re going to suck the bullets right out of it, you hot little slut,” he said. “You want it to come in your mouth?”

  He cocked the gun, and her eyes widened. She felt a hot dark blur of heat mixed with fear spread through her and rolled her eyes up at him, imagining the gun going off, her last suck, she thought wildly.

  He slid the gun back out of her mouth and she felt a wave of relief, but then he slid the barrel down and jerked up and back on her hair, forcing her back to arch.

  “Maybe you‘d like it to fuck you somewhere else,” he said.

  She moaned as she felt the slick steel caressing her pussy, then gasped as she felt him turn it and push it against the mouth of her sex.

  “D-Don‘t!” she gasped excitedly as it pushed into her.

  “Why not, slut? Is there anything you don‘t want up inside your hot little cunt? You feel pretty wet to me.”

  He twisted the barrel from side to side and then pumped it slowly in and out as he jerked even harder on her hair. Her head was almost upside down, her back arched sharply, her breasts straining as he looked down at them. Then she moaned as his lips slid over one nipple, widened, and his teeth bit into her breast.

  The barrel pushed deeper and she gasped, squirming, legs wide as he pumped it in and out and chewed on the center of her breast.

  He pumped harder, faster, driving it in all the way to the trigger guard, jamming the wider part of the gun around the chamber and trigger against the entrance to her sex.

  “Do you think it‘s ready to come? Do you think it‘ll come inside you, slut?” he growled.

  “D-Do it!” she gasped, mind spinning. “Fuck me to death!”

  “That seems a little extreme,” he said. “And how would I explain that to your husband?”

  He pulled the gun out of her and then jerked on her arms. “Stand up. Up!” he barked.

  Panting, a little dizzy, Gwen stood weakly before him, only to have him pull her back down.