All That She Wants

"Slut." His voice was hard again, commanding my attention.

I looked up. A second tear fell, making parallel rivulets down my face. I watched him clench his jaw, a wicked smile slowly spread across his face.

"God, you're so beautiful when you cry. Just makes me want to hurt you more." He drew a breath and stiffened his shoulders. "But you're not the only one who's going to embarrass themselves walking out of here if we don't leave soon. Now tell me why you're not going to win this fight. Remind me."

I wracked my brain, which felt like swimming through cement. "Because... because I'm a submissive... submissive fuckdoll," I choked out. "Who likes..." my breath came fast and shallow, "Who likes... being told what... what to do." Another tear dropped onto the table.

"And what else?"

I looked at him, trying to beg him with my eyes. "Jack, please... no. Please... don't make me say it."

There was no recourse in his look. "Go on."

The tears felt cool against my hot cheeks. "I need... to be... Please, I can't. I can't say it." I stifled a small sob.

His smile made my breath catch. "You're just making it worse for yourself, you know." He took a piece of ice from the glass and dragged it over my lips. "Or is that what you're trying to do?"

I shook my head, sensations overwhelming me. Really, I wasn't... right? This is insane. Maybe I should just... let him win this game. Maybe I should stop fighting him. Then at least we could leave, and I could get the fucking I so desperately craved.

"Because I could make it worse, if that's what you want," he said, toyingly. He placed another ice cube in the palm of my hand, gently closing my fingers around it. Immediately drops of water dripped from my fist. "How do you think we should make it worse?"

My voice wavered. "Please... no. Please, let's just go. I need... I need you to fuck me."

"Thirsty," he laughed. He reached down to drag his fingertips lightly over my nipples, still poking out obscenely. "So thirsty."

A moan escaped my lips. "Please..." I begged.

"Tell me why you need this. Tell me why you let me do these things to you." He picked up another piece of ice, idly passing it between his fingers. "Then you can have what you want." He pressed the ice cube to my stiff nipple, instantly soaking through that spot on the front of my dress.

I looked down in horror as the kelly green fabric absorbed the cold water and became dark. My nipples somehow got even harder. I looked up at him, eyes wide. "No. Please..." I clenched my jaw. "Please... I'm begging you."

His jaw worked. "I like it when you beg." He dug for another piece of ice, after the first melted away. "But you can stop this any time, you know. I'm not forcing you to do anything." We sat in heavy silence for a few seconds, and then he shrugged. He brought the ice cube to my other nipple, drawing around it in small, wet circles.

Shivers ran through my body, twin radial points from my wet nipples and wet pussy. I closed my eyes, feeling that delicious, horrifying weight on my chest, pushing me down into the degradation that I craved. I felt the last of my resistance drip into my panties, as I imagined what I was going to look like walking out of here. My hands shook as I picked up the lead and offered it to him.

A self-satisfied smile spread across his face. "What do you say?"

I felt empty. Blank and submissive. "Please take me upstairs. Please fuck me. I need it."

"I know. Good girl," he said, wrapping the excess leather around his wrist. "But that's not what I asked." He pulled on the remainder of the lead, stretching my neck toward him. "What did I ask you?" His voice seemed even more threatening, now that he had a way to keep me still. "Be a good little cunt and tell me, and I won't make you crawl out of here on your hands and knees."

I closed my eyes, unintelligible sounds escaping from my throat. Emptiness. I felt nothing but that treasured emptiness, the beautiful pain in my core sweeping everything else away. There were no thoughts, and it felt good. It felt right. It felt right, not to think. Only to feel the emptiness, where his will could saturate me. I blinked slowly. "I need... I need you to... humiliate me so I can feel submissive." I let out a breath that I didn't realize I had been holding.

He pulled the lead harder, bringing my lips close to his. Close, but not quite touching. "Now was that so difficult? Get your fucking purse."

I reached next to me as he got up from the table, pulling me awkwardly. A spiral of leather dropped from his hand to give me a length to walk. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to lead.

He gestured again with his chin, directing me toward the exit. "I'll follow you. Wouldn't want anyone to think that you're not coming willingly." He smiled, but his eyes were full of the promise of violence.

A tiny nod. He made so much sense. "Of course." I took one step in front of him. The length of leather fell between my breasts conspicuously, highlighting the two dark, wet spots on the front of my dress. Fear, mixed with arousal, flooded through my body. I looked around at the room, full of people that were probably not interested in me. Yet.

The clicking of my heels on the shiny marble tile seemed to be deafening. I could feel the blush rise from my chest, over my face.

The walk lasted an eternity. I tried not to look at anyone, to only focus on moving myself forward. The collar wasn't tight, but I couldn't help but feel its constriction on every inhale. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man turn his head to watch me, as I walked past him. Then his date followed. My breathing got shallower, my face hotter. Once my attention was diverted, I scanned the crowd, compulsively. I needed to know I was being watched, seen.

You're so fucked up. This is insane.

Some tables were immersed in their own conversations, but some - enough - of them were taking the opportunity to watch us walk with silent, shocked faces. I saw our waitress starting at us from behind the bar, her eyes wide. I met her eyes purposely as I wove between the mess of dark wood tables. What the fuck is wrong with you? You are so fucked up.

Out in the hall, my hand was shaking so badly I nearly missed the elevator call button.

As the door closed slowly in front of us, my breath came in big, gulping pulls. I felt the tears drip down my cheeks, and my cunt clench. I needed to be fucked. Badly.

"Shh, darling," he soothed, running his hands up and down my shoulders. He came to rest his palm on the small of my back, as he depressed the "5" button.

I looked up at him questioningly, my voice trembling. "My room... my room's on the third floor."

"Yeah, but mine's on the fifth."

I made a face. "...What? I thought..." Gods, it was so hard to think. "I thought the whole point of this was that I had a hotel room."

He shrugged. "Was that the point?"

I stared at the increasing floor counter, acutely aware of the leather connecting us. The collar that I had put on myself. The lead that I had handed him, begged him to take. I quivered as his thumb drew small circles on my lower back.

Only five floors. Five floors.

I prayed that we'd be the only ones in the car. At least then I could preserve some of my dignity.

I stopped breathing as the elevator lurched to a stop on the fourth floor.

This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. I looked up at him, panicked. He grinned back down at me.

A middle-aged man in a grey suit took one step to join us, saw the picture in front of him, and momentarily stood there, stunned. I watched his eyes flick from me to Jack, to the collar and lead, to my hard nipples poking obscenely through my dress. The seconds dragged into eons. Finally, he turned and cleared his throat, and quickly pressed the button for the tenth floor.

The ride up that last floor was the longest elevator ride I had ever experienced. My chest burned; I couldn't breathe. This was awful. Beyond awful.

Then why is your pussy so wet?

Once the doors opened again, Jack practically dragged me down the hall to his room, evidently no longer content to follow behind me. A click of a door lock, and he shoved me inside. "There's something you need to take care of, cunt. Get on your fucking knees," he growled.

He jerked the lead downward, spilling me onto the ground gracelessly. Standing inside the room's tiny foyer, he unbuckled and unzipped, letting his hard cock free. I listened to his sounds of relief as he speared himself between my lips, pinning me against the wall. His rhythm was hard and fast; my eyes watered and saliva dripped as I felt him breach my throat over and over. Again and again, deeper and deeper.

I concentrated on relaxing my throat. He was close already, and after only a few minutes he pulled the lead tight as he emptied his balls into me with a groan.

Between the pulsing cock in my mouth and the collar tight against my neck, I couldn't breathe. I tried to swallow my panic, too, but he held my head captive; it wasn't until my vision began to swim that he pulled out. I coughed, heaving in big swallows of air as fresh tears ran down my face.

"Fuck," he said, trying to catch his own breath. "You... you are amazing." He turned and slid down the wall to sit next to me. "Do you know that? Come here."

I let him unfold my legs to sit me in his lap. I nuzzled into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. A pang of disappointment ran through me, as my empty pussy rested against his softening cock.

"You really don't know how hard this is for me. God... the things you let me do..." he drawled, dreamily.

I laughed, surprised. "You make it pretty hard on me, too, you know."

"Do I?" he said, lazily spreading my legs.

"Yes..." I trailed off as his fingers found my clit, drumming lightly.

"Hmm," he sighed, sounding pleased. "Do you want me to go a little easier on you?" His voice had a soft, post-orgasmic overtone, as he continued to toy with me.

"Please... no. Please make it... worse." Fuck. What the ever-living fuck is wrong with you?

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Insatiable little bitch." He turned my chin and ran his fingers delicately over my jawbone. I marveled at how, in a span of ten minutes, he could go from fucking my throat raw, to touching me so tenderly. This man... was a trap.

"Okay then, up." He made it to his feet first, and used my collar to pull me with him. "Stand there." He zipped his jeans back up, and ran his hands over my dress. He fingered the hem, the stitching. "I really do like the dress. I'm just sorry I'll never get to see it on you again."

I looked up at him, confused.

Both his hands came toward my neck, and I closed my eyes, expecting the heady feeling of his fingers wrapped around all those pumping blood vessels. But they came to rest an inch or two lower, on the dress's flimsy neckline. He smiled at me, not looking sorry at all.

"What...?" I asked feebly.

And with one swift pulling motion, he ripped the dress straight down the front. The cut-rate knit and paltry threads put up so little resistance, it was an embarrassment.

"What... the fuck!" My eyes went wide as I watched my clothing - my one piece of clothing - fall to the floor in a tattered heap. I stared at him in disbelief, unable to breathe. "I can't believe... I can't believe you. Oh my gods, fuck."

He continued to grin at me wolfishly. "Are you mad?"

"Fuck," was all I could think to say.

Now you're really trapped.

His fingers snaked between my legs. "...Or are you wet?"

I looked up at him through teary eyes. "Oh my gods. How... how am I supposed to get back to my room?"

He rubbed my pussy and managed to look nonchalant. "I don't know. Not my problem."

"Fuck you," I hissed. "How dare you."

His playful expression was gone in an instant, as he pressed himself hard against my body, grabbing my chin roughly. "Is that the way you're going to play it, now? You need to remember yourself, fucktoy." He took half a step back and let go of my jaw, only to send his palm crashing into my cheek.

I lurched with the force of it, and I felt tears again. Instinctively, I drew my hand to my stinging face.

"Move your fucking hand. You've been forgetting your manners all evening." He glared at me. "Or do you think I hadn't noticed?" He slapped me again, but this time I saw it coming and was able to brace myself. Pain reverberated through my skull, one handprint on top of another. He huffed as he grabbed the lead and roughly dragged me over the edge of the bed, ass up.

I heard the ominous zip-zip-zip of his belt being pulled through the loops of his jeans. "Jack... please..." I was cut off by the first blow, aimed perfectly across my sitz bones. I gasped, arching my head up a little. A rain of blows fell onto my vulnerable skin, rapidly building in intensity. By the end of twenty, I was crying steadily. The room's overworked air conditioning was a marked counterpoint to the heat on my ass.

He dropped the belt next to me on the bed, and began to roughly knead my butt cheeks. "Now what do you say, little girl?" His voice had turned gravelly, like some primal need had resurfaced.

"Thank you..." I murmured softly, my breath coming short and fast, "... Sir. Thank you for... reminding me of... my manners."

"Good girl." Even though I couldn't see him, I could hear the savage smile on his lips. "You really should be thanking me, though, for not ripping that cheap piece of shit off of you at the bar."

I felt a cold shiver run down my back. I moaned, arching my back and pressing my ass toward him. What is wrong with you?

He laughed. "I see. Well, maybe next time, then. Now ask me nicely to continue, to make sure we learn our lesson for today."

My chest heaved, pressing into the mattress. "Please... Sir. Please keep punishing me. Please, Sir. I need..." My voice faded, unable to form more words.

"What do you need, cunt?"

I shook my head, as much as I could. "Please..." I choked out. "Sir, please. ...I need to be... reminded... of my manners."

I heard him let out his own breath, and pick up his belt again.

He hit harder this time, and slower. Each impact made me shriek, and I lost count of the blows. My mind fell back into that white static-y space, where there was nothing but me and the regular cadence of gleaming, coveted pain.

A clear knock at the door pulled me halfway from my trance.

He paused his onslaught, and again, the belt was laid down. "Hmm," he sighed, sounding both confused and annoyed at the interruption. "Why don't you be a doll and see who that could be?"

I drew myself back, slowly. My ass was hot and sore, and it wasn't a small feat to move again naturally. I heard myself groan, but it had an undertone of deep almost-satisfaction. My heels fell unsteadily as I minced toward the door. It wasn't until I nearly tripped over the remnants of my dress that I remembered that I was naked, and about to open a hotel door to god-knows-who. I stopped and wheeled my head back around to look at him, eyes wide.

He smirked. "Go on, then."

I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Why do you do this to me?" I asked, beaten in more ways than one.

"Because you like it. And I like watching you. Now go open the door."

I closed the rest of the distance as if under a spell, and pulled the door handle.

"Holy shit!" Our waitress's hand flew to cover her mouth. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. "Oh my god... I... um..." We both stood there for a long moment, each of us frozen. We stared at each other, twin looks of horror. "I..." she started again, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry... I don't know why... I mean, I..." She turned to leave.

"Hey." Jack's deep, reassuring voice came from behind me. He threaded his fingers around the back of my neck, intertwining them around my collar. My breath came in quick, staccato bursts as a deep flush surged over my face. "Can we... help you?" I heard him smile his best devious smile.

She averted her eyes, trying to be polite. "I..." she began once more, her voice trembling. "There was... a noise complaint. And I..." she looked up at us again quickly, then thought better of it. "Oh my god. I... I volunteered... to see what the problem was." She turned to look back down the hall, but otherwise didn't move. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry..." She chewed on her lip.

"You volunteered." I recognized the tone of his voice, because I had heard it a thousand times before. He had found a crack, a way in, and he was going to exploit it.

She nodded, examining the empty hallway intently.

"Well. So kind of you to bring this... complaint to our attention. We'll try to keep it down. Won't we?" He squeezed the back of my neck with the last two words, and began to swivel around, leading me back into the room. As we were a quarter turn into our retreat, he stopped and turned his head back to her. "Although I'm curious. Why did you volunteer?"

Trap set.

Her jaw worked silently, though she still didn't look at us. "I watched you... at the bar. I mean... I watched the two of you. What you did... to her." Finally, she turned back to face the open door. She looked unsure of herself, and yet, her eyes were pools of lust. My blush intensified.

"And what did I do to her?"

Her breath quickened. "I mean... I see a lot of people. You wouldn't believe. And I think I'm pretty good at reading people, you know? But..." she swallowed. "I've never... seen anything like that."

My breath somehow got even shallower. "Please... can we...?" I broke in desperately, directing my question to Jack. I motioned toward the privacy of the room; I was afraid I was going to pass out from lack of air. Every nerve in my core screamed.

He smiled. Innocence washed over his face, making my insides icy. He looked at her. "Would you like to continue this... more privately? She seems," indicating me, "To want to get to know you a bit better."

I shot him a look. That's not what I meant at all. Right?

I turned to see her response; she seemed to be frozen again. I prayed that she'd decline, bow out to get back to fetching beer downstairs, or something. But she nodded, slowly. Fuck.

Trap sprung.

"By all means, then." He swept me out of the way, so she could step into the room. My relief was empty as I heard the door shut behind her. Fuck, fuck fuck. "My name is Jack, by the way. And this is Gina, but she prefers to be called dirtier names."

I wanted to curl up and cry.

She flushed. "Fuck, that's hot. Nice to meet you, I guess. My name's Rebecca." She paused. "I've never... done this before." She was clearly nervous, eyes scanning around the room compulsively. I recognized the look of a trapped animal, and I realized... it was hot. She was so sweet, so small. Delicate bones curved in all the right places, long brown hair falling in cute ringlets down her back. A perfect princess.

I could smell her strawberry lip gloss, and I fought the urge to kiss it off of her. What the fuck is wrong with you?

"Done what before?" He was the picture of pure, blameless virtue. "Delivered a complaint?"

She laughed, sunny and sparkling in spite of her obvious anxiety. "That's not what I mean," she said, looking between the two of us. "Look, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't... I don't do... this. But after watching you two in the bar...And now..." She looked thoughtful. "That was crazy." And, after a pause, "Crazy and hot."

Jack guided me over to the bed and sat me down; I winced as my battered skin met the blanket. Then he took his own seat next to a little side table. He motioned for her to sit as well, and she did, taking the other available chair. I still couldn't believe this was happening.

"Tell me what was hot about it."