"Beg me," he whispers, his fingers insistent, teasing my prostate and making me sweat with pleasure.
"Please, please. Fuck me. I'm begging you." I put my hands behind me, trying to find his hard cock and pull it into me, but he just grabs them and puts them back in front of me, holding my wrists tightly again.
"I really will tie you if you keep doing that," he whispers, and for some reason that just makes me even more desperate for the sensation of him within me.
"Please, please, Walter, Master, Sir, whatever, please," I groan incoherently.
"Good boy." He nuzzles my neck. "What are you?"
"Yours. Your slave, yours to fuck senseless. Just do it, please."
His fingers are removed and I gasp from their loss, wanting to feel him, any part of him, inside me.
"Serve me, then," he says, turning me around, handing me a condom.
I shiver to touch that magnificent hard cock. Although I'm rapidly becoming familiar with its contours, it still renders me breathless. I slide the condom smoothly over it, marveling at his control. If he touched my cock right now, I'd be gone. He hands me the lube and I slather that over his dick. I can see a vein pulsing along his jaw, and there's a heat in his body that makes me appreciate Sharon's crack about hooking him up to a generator. I can see him being able to provide the power for whole cities when he's like this.
"Now lie on your back."
I stare at him quizzically for a moment, and his dark eyes meet mine, insistent and demanding.
"Don't be slow, Fox. Obey me."
I do as he says, watching as he looms over me.
"Put your legs on my shoulders. I want to be able to see you when I fuck you. I want to see the expression in your eyes."
I shiver, my whole body screaming with erotic tension, and I obey him immediately.
He places his hands under my buttocks, strokes them, and then pulls them apart teasingly. He inserts a finger, then slips it out, making me moan in frustration. I can feel the heat of him as he closes on me and then his hands move swiftly, pulling my buttocks apart without warning, and, once again, I experience that first exquisite moment of pain and pleasure as he gains entry to the tight ring of muscle in my ass. After that he slips in smoothly, maneuvering to slide himself fully inside me. His hands grip me around the waist, and I long for the timed thrusts of yesterday, for the touch of his hand on my cock, pumping me in time to the movement of his hips, but it isn't forthcoming. Instead he grinds his whole body into me, pulling me up against him. The sensation is so breathtaking that I can't help touching my cock, needing the sweet release of orgasm, but again he stops me. His hands grasp mine tightly and he slams them down beside my body, holding them there.
"No," he says, thrusting into me, making me whimper. "How would you like to do this?" he asks. "To be inside me?"
"I don't... You'd let me?" I try to understand this.
"Yes." He thrusts again. "If you obey me. If you do as I say, if you don't come."
"I want to...I have to." I can't stop myself whimpering at the thought of having to hold back.
"No. You can stop. For me. If you do, I'll reward you—but only if you obey me in this."
I wonder what it feels like to be inside another man, the way he is inside me, and I find that I want to know, to explore, to feel the sensations that he is feeling.
"I won't come. I promise. I'll do everything you say."
"You submit to me?" he hisses. "Fully? Completely? Everything you are, everything you ever were or could be? All of it mine?"
"Yes. All of me. I submit!" I yell, as his body breaks against mine, urgently pounding into me, robbing me of speech and coherent thought. His eyes are intense, and he has me physically pinned down by his hands and mentally transfixed by his eyes. I can't move any part of my body, I can't break this spell we have between us.
"Hold onto that."
He roars out his climax with a shout of pure sexual release as he did yesterday, and the sound of that, and the scent and heat of his body are almost enough to make me come without touching my dick. I cling onto the deal he just offered to me, the pact and the promise that we made. He doesn't withdraw and I can feel him soften inside me. This time he rolls me down under him, still holding me tightly, and this makes me feel more owned than at any other time. He kisses me over and over again, then gently disengages our bodies.
"Come with me." He gets off the bed, pulls me to my feet, and takes me into the bathroom. My cock is still sticking out in front of me, begging for release as he slams me into the shower and turns the water on, adjusting the temperature to make it ice cold.
"Fuck!" After the heat of his body, it feels like I've been whisked from the tropics to Antarctica and my erection shrinks instantly as my balls duck back inside my body for warmth.
"Stay there," he grins. "And don't jerk off. I know you've done that before while you took your shower."
"How do you know that?" I ask him, startled. He grins in a feral way.
"I know you, Fox," he says, going to clean his teeth. When he returns to the shower, he turns up the temperature of the water and gets in beside me. My dick immediately starts to harden.
"Stop that," he snaps. "You've got a while to wait yet."
"When?" I ask, handing him the soap, transfixed by the thought of what he's offered me.
"Later. After the library," he says, and the mention of that makes my erection disappear immediately.
"Wash me, dry me, dress me," he orders peremptorily, his eyes dark and unreachable.
His orgasm hasn't brought him back to being the man I know from the office. He's still far away, demanding and rough. When he's like this, I feel a need to tread very carefully, and I do as he says quickly and without question.
He doesn't touch me as I dress him. In fact he hasn't caressed me since our love-making session. Now he's so masterful that I almost fear him. I kneel down and help him into his socks and shoes and long for his hand to brush against my hair as it has done before, but it doesn't happen.
"Get yourself dressed." He nods, and I pull on the obligatory jeans and stand there, helplessly, abandoned to these barking commands.
There's a knock on the door and my heart pounds inside me.
"Come in," Skinner says, not taking his eyes off me. I find that I can't move away from that dark gaze. Saunders enters, with Nick beside him, and Matt and one of the other tops close behind.
"Time, Mr. Skinner." Saunders smiles, but Skinner hasn't looked at him once. His eyes are still locked with mine. My boss, my master, comes over to me and pushes me against the wall, finding my wrists and restraining them behind me with his hands. I'm not sure that my legs will hold me up anymore.
"Tell me," he whispers in my ear. "I want to hear you say it."
"I'm yours," I begin falteringly.
"All of you," he nods. "And what can I do with you?"
"Whatever you want, Master."
"Good. You submit?"
"Yes. I submit." I feel weak and limp in his hands and only the pressure of his arms is holding me up.
"Excellent. Then come with me." He hauls me out of the room by the neck, pushing me in front of him up the corridor as he takes me to meet my fate.
I'm not sure what I'm feeling emotionally; I can only feel the heat of his body as he pushes me along. He doesn't once break contact with me, and I have a sensation of being underwater. Everything sounds muffled, out of focus, and my vision is a blur of hazy colors. I stop at the threshold of the library and stare, jolted back to reality.
