Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

J oseph

When the elevator doors opened, the luxurious silence of my apartment, which occupied the whole thirty-first floor of the building, seemed to reach into the mirrored space and surround us. I put my hand on Ingrid's bottom, cupping and exploring a little, feeling for the sweet distension of her cheeks that represented the only palpable sign of the little plug's presence in her delectable anus.

She looked up at me, her eyes troubled with understandable apprehension as well as the unmistakable, helpless arousal that made my cock leap along my thigh. With a pressure on her backside that I meant as a wordless command, I propelled her forward out of the elevator and into the foyer.

Our footsteps echoed against the marble floor of the commodious space, each sound a seeming reminder of the opulence that I couldn't help taking a good deal of pride in. Ingrid's wide eyes darted around, taking in the decor I had spent so much time, effort, and cold hard cash on—perfectly spaced recessed lighting, velvet drapes, the art that cost a good deal more than her yearly salary, as generously as Selecta paid its secretaries. My gaze lingered on her expression, savoring every flicker of shock and awe. Her reaction intoxicated me, letting me feel how stark a contrast to her previously modest life I'd presented to her.

I saw her swallow, a delicate movement that seemed to capture so much about these first explorations of her submissive nature. She clearly felt out of her element here, and it showed in the way she hesitated, her petite frame trembling a little with obvious uncertainty.

I couldn't resist the magnetic pull, the call to dominance, any longer. I stepped forward and seized her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her breath hitched at the sudden contact. Her body stiffened, just for the briefest of moments, before melting into mine. I felt the heat between us surge, an electric rush that seemed to go to my head, my chest, and my cock all at once. My hands tightened their grip, asserting my control as I lowered my head to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

Our mouths collided with fervor. I made my dominance evident, guiding the rhythm and intensity of the kiss with my lips and tongue until she whimpered up into my mouth. Her thrillingly soft lips yielded to the quiet, wordless instructions I gave: the pressure of my own lips, the delicate but insistent penetration of my tongue. The pleasure she gave me with her mouth's sweet, tentative response, her own shy exploration that quickly turned into something more desperate and hungry, made me feel the joy of mastery all the stronger.

I made my tongue more forceful, delving into her mouth and claiming every inch with possessive hunger. She tasted faintly of chocolate, an innocent, girlish hint that only served to heighten my arousal as I thought of how shamefully I meant to use her tonight.

Ingrid whimpered softly, a sound that vibrated through me, evoking my primal need to conquer and claim even more urgently. I deepened the kiss still further, my tongue tangling with hers in a dance of power and submission. Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in just enough to send a shiver of pleasure through me. I could feel her resistance wane, replaced by a growing surrender that seemed born from more than the simple lust of a newly awakened submissive.

Breaking the kiss, I pulled back just enough to look into her flushed face, her eyes glazed with a mix of confusion and desire. The sight of her like this—disheveled, vulnerable, and utterly at my mercy—made for a potent aphrodisiac. My fingers traced the line of her jaw, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to meet my gaze.

I stepped back further, my eyes locked onto Ingrid's flushed face. She looked up at me, her wide gaze reflecting both trepidation and an undeniable, unquenchable spark of sexual need. My fingers trailed down her neck, pausing to feel the rapid pulse beneath her delicate skin before continuing their journey to the zipper of her dress.

"Stay still," I commanded, my voice a growl of authority that brooked no disobedience.

She shivered but obeyed, the tension in the room palpable as I slowly pulled the zipper down, the soft rasping sound echoing in the silence. The fabric parted, exposing her smooth, pale skin inch by tantalizing inch until the dress slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. Ingrid stood before me, vulnerable and exposed, clad only in a lacy red bra that barely concealed the swell of her adorable little breasts. The contrast between the sensual fabric and her exposed skin sent another surge of my own need straight to the rock-hard shaft between my legs.

"Beautiful," I murmured, my gaze raking over her form with possessive hunger.

"Joseph… sir…" she whispered, her voice trembling. It was a plea, though for what exactly, she might not even know.

"You're going to go into my bedroom," I told her, my dominant lust no longer permitting a smile, or a voice other than one of aggressive, almost bestial command. "You'll see the door when you turn around. You're going to get on the bed and face the headboard, on your knees right at the foot. Then you're going to bend over and put your face in the covers, and offer your bottom to me."

Ingrid

I looked up at Joseph, my limbs still trembling at the force of his kiss and the humiliating but terribly arousing sensation of his stripping me nearly naked, there in the elegant foyer of his stunningly luxurious apartment. My heart pounded in my chest as I hesitated, my mind roiling at his brutal tone, the wolfish expression on his face, my body's reaction, and my reason's rebellion against it all.

The memory of the paddle's sting on my bare skin and the still lingering ache in my backside flashed through my mind, a vivid reminder of the consequences of disobedience. Somewhere, my mind was trying to remind me that I could quit, that Selecta would find me a new job, that I could forget any of this had ever happened. I remembered the paddle and the compliance wand instead.

You don't have any choice, do you, you little whore? that other voice said. Your master knows what you really need, and if you refuse to give him what he wants, he'll punish you.

As if he could read my mind, Joseph lowered his chin and growled, "I have a paddle here, too, sweetheart. Do you need me to get it?"

I swallowed so hard it hurt. My face burned. With my lower lip between my teeth, I forced myself to turn until I could see the door of the bedroom, off to the side of the enormous living room. The huge bed with the burgundy comforter beckoned to me—no, commanded me with its potent symbolism, its embodiment of Joseph's dominance.

Each step felt heavier than the last as I crossed the marble and my pumps found the carpet of the living room. Even there, still ten meters away, the bed loomed before me, an enormous expanse that seemed to dwarf my petite frame. My brow furrowed as I moved, my one naughty piece of lingerie somehow accentuating my lack of panties, my nudity, the intrusive, degrading, arousing metal plug in my anus.

I reached its foot. I climbed onto it. I knelt, the soft comforter receiving my knees as I positioned myself on the firm mattress. My hands trembled, and I hesitated once more, knowing what was expected of me yet feeling the weight of my vulnerability pressing down.

Joseph's voice echoed in my mind, the memory of his commanding tone leaving no room for defiance.

I'm sure you know what happens to girls who don't offer their bottoms for fucking, you little slut , the distant whisper said. I let out a little whimper at its cruelty, and at the terrifying knowledge that I was the one talking—that I couldn't help serving as Joseph's ally in mastering me and bending me to his hard penis' enjoyment.

I bent over onto my elbows, burying my face into the fine, soft fabric, inhaling deeply to steady my nerves. The scent of the comforter's fabric seemed to mingle with the faint aroma of Joseph's cologne, grounding me in the moment.

I could feel his gaze on me, a scorching heat that made my skin tingle. I thought I could almost feel his pleasure, too; how aroused a dominant man like my master had gotten at the sight of a naughty girl's bottom presented that way, showing the marks of his discipline, her face down and her cunt and anus up.

His voice sounded from much closer than the foyer. He had followed me, quietly watching.

"Reach back and show me," Joseph said, his voice a little husky, the words a potent mix of authority and expectation. The thought of his lustful eyes on my exposed, proffered backside sent a hot shiver down my spine, both shame and arousal flooding my senses.

With a shaky breath, I reached back, my fingers taking hold of the smooth skin of my buttocks. I whimpered as one of my fingertips caught a bruise. I hesitated, overwhelmed by the intimate act I was about to perform. Closing my eyes, I imagined Joseph watching me, his piercing blue eyes never missing a detail.

Slowly, I pulled my cheeks apart, exposing the jeweled butt plug nestled deep inside my anus. The cool air on my exposed flesh heightened my terrible awareness of the plug's presence. In my mind's eye I saw the gemstone winking in the soft light of Joseph's opulent apartment, humiliatingly marking my bottom as his possession.

That moving, helplessly arousing image of my submission lingered, branding itself into my consciousness. Each second stretched into eternity as I held the position, waiting for Joseph's next move, the tension thrumming through my body like a taut wire.

I heard his deliberate footsteps. I heard what could only be him shedding his clothes, the rustle of fabric a stark contrast to the silence enveloping me otherwise.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. "So eager, so ready for me. Look at that tight little cunt I gave such a pounding yesterday."

My breath caught in my throat, every word a jolt to my senses. The comforter muffled the sound a little, but I could hear it all. He approached the bed, and I felt the mattress dip under his weight. I didn't dare move, too aware of the jeweled butt plug nestling deep inside me, its cool metal a constant reminder of my submission.

"Spread yourself wider," he commanded, and I obeyed, my cheeks burning with mortification.

The air shifted as he moved behind me. I sensed him reaching out, his fingers grazing my exposed skin before gripping the base of the plug. With a deliberate twist, he began to withdraw it. I clenched reflexively at the mortifying feeling.

"Relax, Ingrid." Joseph's voice was a low growl, steeped in authority. "You're mine tonight. Every part of you."

With a whining noise deep in my throat, I pushed, my cheeks hot as the sun. The plug slid free, leaving me feeling empty and exposed. I shivered as he set it aside and reached for a bottle of lubricant. The click of the cap sent another wave of anticipation through me.

"You're going to take all of me," he continued, his tone both a promise and a threat. "And you're going to love every second of it."

I felt the cold lube on his fingers as he spread it over the tiny entrance, preparing me meticulously. His touch was firm yet careful, each movement sending sparks of conflicting emotions through me. Humiliation clashed with helpless need, and I felt myself sinking deeper into an abyss of pure vulnerability.

"Tell me, Ingrid," he said, his voice now a whisper that seemed to vibrate through my entire being. "Do you want this?"

"Y-yes," I breathed, my own voice trembling. The admission tasted like surrender, and it thrilled and shamed me in equal measure.

"Good girl," he praised, and I felt warmth blossom within me despite the embarrassment.

His fingers worked the lube into me, stretching and preparing, each movement deliberate and unyielding. My body trembled, torn between the rawness of the act and the undeniable pleasure it brought. Each touch, each whispered command seemed to pull me further into my submissive role, making me crave his approval even more.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his words wrapping around me like a caress. "Such a perfect little fuck toy for your master."

I whimpered softly, the conflicting sensations building to a fever pitch. My muscles tensed and relaxed, caught in the rhythm of his ministrations. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving me helpless and needy, desperate for whatever came next.

"You're ready for me, Ingrid," he said, his voice now a dark velvet promise. "This is going to hurt, but that's what naughty girls get. This is your real punishment for needing the wand today."

"Oh, God," I whispered. "Oh… I…" I swallowed hard, my whole body trembling with fear and lust. "Yes, sir."

As he positioned himself behind me, my heart raced faster, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me, and I felt a strange surge of gratitude amidst the chaos of my emotions. Despite the intensity of the moment, the tummy-churning fear, there was an unexpected comfort in his dominance—a sense of belonging I couldn't deny.

Then, with a mixture of dread and yearning, I felt him begin to claim me, my body and soul poised on the brink of an experience that would forever change the landscape of my desires.

Joseph's hands were firm on my hips, his grip over my wrists making me feel both restrained and taken care of. I gasped as he replaced the plug at last with the head of his massive, erect penis, pressing it firmly against my tight little flower. The discomfort mingled with the forbidden arousal, making my body tense and quiver.

"Relax," Joseph commanded, his tone brooking no disobedience. "Let me in."

I tried to obey, focusing on my breathing, willing my muscles to relax as he began to push forward. The stretch was intense, almost unbearable, but there was a dark pleasure in the pain. My fingers clenched the comforter beneath me, knuckles white with the effort to remain still.

"That's it," he murmured approvingly. "Take me in, Ingrid. All of me."

His words sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself arching my back, striving to accommodate him despite the burning ache. Each thrust pushed me closer to the edge of my endurance, yet I couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through me, the way my body responded to his dominance.

"Please," I gasped, unsure of what I was begging for—relief or more of the exquisite torment.

"Touch yourself," he ordered, his voice softer now, a rare note of tenderness. He took his hands from over my wrists to allow it, placing one on my waist and the other on my shoulder. "You have permission."

A sob of gratitude escaped my lips, and I eagerly complied, my fingers finding their way between my legs. The slickness there was undeniable, a testament to my helpless arousal. As I stroked myself, Joseph's thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, each one pushing me closer to a frenzied edge.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his breath hot against my ear. "Such a good girl for me."

The combination of his words and the rhythmic pounding of his cock drove me wild. My body shuddered with small climaxes, each one a wave of pleasure that left me trembling and breathless. I clung to the sensations, grateful for the moments of relief amidst the overwhelming intensity.

He increased the urgency of his thrusts, driving into me with a force that bordered on brutal. Yet, within that brutality, there was a strange, twisted care—a recognition of my limits, even as he pushed me beyond them.

My body surrendered completely, each climax a testament to my submission, my new gratitude for the dark pleasure he bestowed upon me. The room spun around us, the outside world forgotten, leaving only the raw, electric connection that bound us together in this tempest of desire and power.

His thrusts felt relentless, each one a declaration of his control over me. The jeweled butt plug had been a reminder of his dominance, its cool weight in my anus both humiliating and thrilling at the restaurant, in the limo, in the foyer. Now, with Joseph buried deep inside me, its absence was a stark contrast that heightened every thrust, every shiver of pleasure-pain that coursed through my body.

My hand moved faster, desperate for release. With a sob, I started to come, little climaxes tearing through me like lapping waves, leaving me gasping with both relief and need. My gratitude for these moments, for Joseph's permission, fueled my submission. Despite the brutal nature of our encounter, I felt a burgeoning realization: his actions, his dominance, stemmed from a place of regard. He saw me, valued me, in ways I'd never imagined a man like him could. Could his passion for degrading me, I wondered distantly, come from anything other than a wish to demonstrate how precious I had so swiftly become to him?

"Yes, sir," I whispered. "Yes, sir." Again and again as he used my most private place exactly as he chose, simply to make his cock feel good. The words became a mantra of devotion. With every surge of agonizing pleasure, my heart swelled, embracing this role, this submission. My fingers danced over my clit, each touch synchronized with the rhythm of his thrusts, sending shockwaves of ambiguous ecstasy through my core.

"Take it all," Joseph commanded, each thrust more forceful than the last, driving me to the edge of my sanity as he sounded the depths of my bottom in search of his brutal satisfaction. I felt my body surrender completely, trusting in his control, his care.

"Thank you, sir," I heard myself whisper, tears wetting my cheeks—of discomfort, but somehow also of gratitude. The room spun, reality dissolving into the primal though unnatural joining of our bodies.

"Mine," he growled one last time, and I knew it to be true.

"Yes, sir," I sobbed.

My body trembled beneath his, every nerve ending aflame as Joseph's rhythm turned frenzied. His hands gripped my hips with a possessive fervor, pulling me back onto his cock with an unyielding force. The weight of his dominance pressed into the very core of me.

With a final, deep thrust, Joseph reached his climax. His cock pulsed inside me, releasing its hot seed into my anus. The sensation startled me, a rush of warmth spreading through my insides. But alongside the initial shock came a wave of delight, a twisted sense of fulfillment that only deepened my feelings for him. I reveled in the fullness, my helpless affection for Joseph solidifying with each pulse of his release.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, tinged with unmistakable tenderness that made my heart skip a beat. He withdrew slowly, leaving me with a lingering sense of emptiness and longing. The loss of his physical presence was palpable, but the emotional connection remained, stronger than ever.

"Thank you, sir," I whispered again, my voice barely audible. It wasn't just for the pleasure he'd allowed me despite his intent to discipline me with his cock, but for the way he saw me—beautiful, intelligent, worthy of his high regard. In this twisted dynamic, I had discovered a depth of emotion I never thought possible.

"Rest now," Joseph commanded gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch was tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion he had just enforced on me. "You've done well."