All That She Wants

"Oh my god..." she breathed. She shifted above me futility, trying to reach my mouth, or his cock. "Oh my god, you fucked up bitch... just say it, for god's sake!" Her voice was a hiss. Needy, with a single focus. "Whatever... he wants... Just do it, please."

I looked up at him, through the cleft of her beautiful ass. He had a look of patient self-satisfaction, as though this was all playing out according to plan. And maybe it was. I whined a little, legs shaking from my finger's continued assault on my pussy. I was so close... I shook my head, unwilling to submit to this latest insult. He hadn't kissed me, hadn't fucked me. And now, apparently, wouldn't let me cum, either. Those things were for someone else, for her. I hated her, and hated him, as I felt the humiliation of it burning into my stomach. I closed my eyes as they filled with new tears.

"Well, slut?" he asked, his voice a mockery of civility. "She deserves it, doesn't she?"

I looked up her body, her pussy, everything covered with a wet layer of arousal. She was beautiful. Every curve was perfect. Fuck. She did deserve it, and I knew it, deep in the core of being. She deserved it, and I didn't. The undeniable truth of that thought dipped me again into the blissful emptiness. I closed my eyes again, keeping my body on the edge of my own orgasm as I slowly nodded my head. "Yes. Yes, Sir."

"So what do you want, then?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Please..." My rational brain wanted to revolt, but it was so quiet underneath all that static in my mind. "Please... I want you to give her my orgasm." I pulled my hand away from my sore, engorged clit involuntarily, feeling the luxurious withering anticlimax. Three quick breaths, and I brought my hand back, edging mindlessly.

Submissive fuckdoll. Blank, empty fuckdoll.

He slipped himself back inside her and let her pussy drop back onto my mouth, in one smooth motion. "Good girl," he cooed, setting the finishing pace. She cried out in relief, her need reaching its crescendo.

The sound of their labored panting and wet bodies slapping against each other was obscene as she ground her clit over my tongue.

"Fuck yes, you're so tight..." he groaned, burying himself fully inside her. "Fuck... Fuck!" His voice was a growl, deep and powerful in its release. Our proximity was such that I could watch his cum jet into her from underneath the skin of his cock, balls contracting and emptying. My insides ached, as I flicked my tongue over her clit and sent her over the edge along with him. Her pussy gushed her own relief as her contractions milked his cum further into her velvety wetness.

They were both so beautiful in the throes of their pleasure, my body teetered on the edge watching and listening. Trembling on the edge of an orgasm I knew I wouldn't have. Its absence carved an excruciating ache into my core, the vicarious pleasure of the denial itself its own tortuous, luscious reward. I sighed, almost content, listening to Jack and Rebecca's heavy breathing on top of me.

She lowered her body to mine, so we were skin to skin, her breasts pushing gently into my aching belly. Lazily, she drew her tongue over my swollen, unsatisfied clit. "Thank you," she said, eliciting from me a hoarse whimper. "It's too bad that he won't... That I can't..."

A phone notification pinged.

"Oh... fuck," Rebecca said dreamily, gracefully disentangling herself from the two of us. She padded over to the pile of her clothes, only a slight hint of unsteadiness betraying her. I watched her as she picked up a phone in a pink jeweled case - of course - and read the message. "Oh, fuck." Her eyes were suddenly wide. "How long have I been here? Shit."

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, as she hurriedly began to pull her panties and jeans back on. He sat on the edge of the bed next to me, so the side of my head rested on his thigh. I moaned softly, thinking of his cum in her.

"I've got to get back downstairs." Bra and shirt replaced.

Jack laughed. "You're still on the clock?" he clucked.

"... Yeah," she replied curtly. She looked in the mirror and smoothed her hair quickly, clearly wanting to make it look like she had not just been fucked. She slipped her shoes back on, and took a step to stand between his legs. "This was... unbelievable." She kissed him, then bent down to place her lips on mine. "And you... are delicious." She licked over my lips, making me gasp.

As she retreated back into the hallway, she turned over her shoulder. "Please remember to mind the noise. Wouldn't want to disrupt our other guests," she said in her perfect customer service voice. She winked, blew another kiss, and shut the door behind her.

We sat on the bed in silence for a minute; he petted my hair softly, as I nuzzled into the side of his body.

He sighed. "I'm... spent." The exhaustion in his voice was evident. He dragged himself up from the mattress, and then sat me up, too. "And you probably have a conference to get to tomorrow."

A well of disappointment settled in my body, and it must have shown.

"Hey, now. You've got one more thing to do for me." His eyes were tired, but twinkled with the hint of malevolence that I loved so much.

"...Oh?" I got butterflies. Again.

He threaded his finger through the ring of the collar to bring me close. "Yeah. I know you're pretty spaced out right now, but let's see if you can remember what it is." His hot breath made me shiver.

Trying to conjure a thought felt like wading through mud.

He smiled cooly. Grabbing the lead, he guided me toward the door. He handed me my purse off the side table, and I followed him in a haze, until I tripped over the tattered remains of my dress.

Fuck.

I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling the lead become taut. I tried to back up, shaking my head. "No..." I started, weakly. I knew it wouldn't do my any good, but I felt like I needed to try. If only to feel him overcome me, one last time. "Wait..." I said, as he continued to pull me toward the door.

"Wait for what? I'm tired. I want to go to sleep." He put his hand on the door handle.

"Wait!" I could feel my eyes go wide. "No. Please... wait. You...can't."

"I can't? Why not?" He opened the door.

I continued to pull back on the lead, eyes darting everywhere but the open hallway. I looked at everything around me, as if there was something that would help me. Closet, bathroom, luggage rack...

He wrapped a length of the lead around his wrist, giving me no choice but to lurch forward.

I became frantic. "Please... Jack, please. I can't. I really can't."

He let the door slam shut again, and then closed the distance between us. He stood so close to me, I could feel the heat of his skin and the rhythm of his breathing. He wrapped his hand around my ass, and squeezed. I winced. "Forgetting your manners already? I can't believe you still want more of this." His voice was like ice, all indication of fatigue vanished. "No, actually I can. You're going to give me a complex, one of these days. You know that?"

I looked up at him. "I'm sorry... Sir."

He raised his eyebrows and curled up one half of his mouth. "Right." He leaned back against the wall of the tiny foyer and crossed his arms, still holding the end of the lead. "Now tell me what you want to do."

I narrowed my eyes. "I sure as hell don't want to walk back to my room naked."

"That's not what I asked." He sighed, patronizingly. "I know what you want, I just want to hear you say it. Put your hands on that sloppy pussy of yours, and tell me what you want."

Fuck. My fingers roamed down my abdomen and through my wet folds, up and over my hard clit. Pangs of pleasure flooded through me, reminding me of everything I didn't get. "This... isn't fair," I breathed.

"Do you like it that way?"

My chin dipped to my chest. "...Yes."

"And why do you like it that way?"

"Because..." I started, "Because I'm a submissive fucktoy who likes to be humiliated." The words tumbled out of me in a great heave as I reached the edge of orgasm. I looked up at him, as I tore my hand away, panting.

He smiled. "Good girl. Isn't it better to tell the truth to ourselves?"

I nodded, concurrently feeling the orgasm die away, and the blush overtake my cheeks.

"Now edge again, and tell me what you want to do." The ice in his voice had returned.

I sighed as my hands complied, my breath wobbly. "Please... this isn't fair." I glanced at the door nervously. "Please... I want..." I trailed off as my fingered slowed to keep me from my climax.

"Don't stop," he said, his voice hard.

"But I'm going to... go over."

"No, you're not. Keep going, and answer my fucking question."

I let out a trembling breath, resuming my work. "I want... Please, I want to..." Fuck. "I want to... walk back to my room naked." Fuck fuck fuck. "Please," I begged, bringing my eyes to his face. "Please let me... walk back to my room naked." My voice trembled as I worked to hold off my orgasm. "Please, Sir," I begged. "Gods, I'm scared, though."

I watched as a smug smile spread across his face. "You are such a slut. Although I never realized that you wanted to be such a public slut." He paused, making sure my fingers were still sliding over my sensitive bits. "Are you afraid someone is going to see you? Someone from your conference maybe?"

I nodded quickly.

"I imagine that also turns you on. Probably all wound up together in that little brain of yours. Do you want to cum?"

Another quick nod.

His smile became predatory. "I'm willing to offer you a choice. Do you want to hear what it is?"

More nodding. So close.

He took a deep breath, as if he were breathing in the scent of my fear and arousal. "I'll give you the option. You can walk back to your room, just like this - just like you begged me - " he paused for effect, "And then you can cum."

I gasped and closed my eyes. I would do anything, anything at this point, to cum. I was so, so close.

"Or..." he continued, "I could hand you one of these nice big hotel towels, you can preserve what's left of your dignity, and forgo that orgasm." He smiled down at me. "Feel free to keep going while you think about it."

I needed to cum. My breath came in great shudders as I mulled over my choice, that really wasn't a choice at all. Trapped. "Oh... gods." I met his eyes. "Please... Let me walk back... naked. Please."

He grinned. "That's what I love about you. You always choose your cunt over your self-respect." The door opened again, in a grand sweeping motion. "Even though you pretend you don't want it, I know you do." He half pulled, half pushed me out into the hallway, laughing. "Enjoy your orgasm, whore." The door shut.

I stood in the empty hallway for a minute, paralyzed. I looked down at myself, naked except for his collar and the lead, and my heels. My purse was slung over one shoulder. I sighed, because he was always right.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I stepped out of my shoes and bolted to the stairwell.

By the time I reached my own room, I was out of breath and I was shaking so badly I had to try four times before the key card would register. I hadn't run into anyone else this time, and I wavered, sickeningly, between between feeling relieved and disappointed. Finally, that joyous click, and I was inside.

Safe.

I stood against the back of the door, and my knees gave out. I collapsed into a heap, my fingers flying to my pussy. He was right. He was always right. I moaned as my orgasm got closer. I was such a slut. I needed this. I needed him to do this to me. I could hear my breath quicken, and I thought about how right he was. His icy voice, his predatory look. His knowing eyes. His questions that weren't questions. I felt my orgasm well in my cunt, deep in my body. He was always right about me. I screamed as that precious orgasm broke from my body, pleasure throbbing underneath my skin and deep in my core. Everything inside me vibrated with the heaving, overwhelming magnitude of it. It was brilliant, and intense, with every long string of tension from the night being cut, all at once.

He was always right.

And I craved him.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, great swells of my climax throbbing and surging. It must have been only a few minutes, but it felt like ages.

Eventually, I picked myself up, and dragged myself into one of the beds.

Alone, again.

I had just gotten my heart rate down to a reasonable level when I heard the knock at the door.

"Fuck," I sighed. I found the t-shirt I usually slept in strewn across the little writing desk, and slipped it over my head as I went to answer the door. The shirt caught momentarily on the collar and pressed the leather of the lead against the skin between my breasts.

Don't be fucking weird.

I unclipped the lead and put it on the bedside table, trying to create the illusion of normalcy. The collar, however, I wasn't going to take off, no matter who was knocking.

I opened the door and froze, seeing Jack standing in front of me. I now knew exactly what a deer in headlights felt like. I couldn't breathe. "Jack..."

"Sorry to bother you, darling." He smiled at me disarmingly. "But you left, and I realized that I never got a goodnight kiss from you."

I laughed, feeling all the rigidity flow out of my body. "Of course." My body slumped against the door jamb. "But you're going to have to come in." I paused. "And stay, I'm afraid."

"Is that so?"

I nodded.

He grinned, drawing me into his arms. "Well, if you insist."

I looked up at him, perfectly fitted against his body. "I do. And I always get what I want, right?"

"Always," he purred, stepping us into the room and closing the door behind him.