Luke
Pulling out of Shelaine was more torturous than anything I endured with either Ryker or the initiators. I wanted to curl my fingers into her, grabbing her pussy and showing her in no unmistakable terms that she was mine. I may not be able to claim her right away, but her days are numbered.
I give her a moment to stand and pull her panties up, obscuring the cum that clings to her lower lips. Once she’s how I want her, she turns to me, her eyes cloudy and hazy. If she’s swooning from just that, then she has so much more in store for her.
Locking my eyes with hers, I slide my fingers into my mouth and moan as our combined flavors explode on my tongue. The fact that her arousal intermingles with my cum doesn’t bother me. I’ve had far more flavors of cum pour down my throat, each one nastier than the next. At least with mine, it’s a flavor I know; it’s one I’m familiar with.
But Shelaine taste is like heaven. I catch the sweet notes as I swirl my tongue around my fingers, savoring the flavor as if I’m a sommelier. She keeps her eyes on me, and they widen as I enjoy the decadent treat of my release. Reaching around with my free hand, I squeeze her ass and give her a wink.
“You’re more than allowed to get yourself off tonight, but make sure you’re thinking of me, rabbit. Because I’ll sure as hell be jacking off to you again later.”
A delightful blush tinges her cheeks as she looks away and starts to fiddle with some papers on the desk. It’s cute, almost adorable. Somehow, there’s an innocence about her, one that I can’t wait to tear away so I can reveal the hungry tigress underneath.
She may be a submissive, but there’s still a wild streak I could feel as I pushed my finger inside her warmth. She bucked against me, desperate for what I had to give. She’s not some pushover that will just cower at my wrath; instead, she will probably be able to meet it head-on.
Oddly enough, since being with her, touching her, the anger that normally sizzles through my veins is absent. As if she's able to ground me, like wearing rubber boots when handling electricity. I need to explore this further. Perhaps she’s the clarity to my insanity, the cure to my sickness, the method to my madness.
All I know is that I can never let her go. Now that I’ve tasted her sweet, sweet arousal, I can’t let anyone have it. I don’t give a fuck if The Society lives by a motto of share and share alike. Once she’s mine, no one else can touch her. I rethread my belt through the loops and buckle it, watching her eyes as they drift from the metal and back up to my face.
Resting my hand on the door, I pull the app back up and click on her name. There’s a star next to it, and I click it, ensuring she’s always at the top. From there, I look for the little camera icon and click that as well. In high definition, I can see her room. It’s neat, straight as a pin. How I would love to tear into her space and mess it up, putting my mark there.
I’ll need to do that before I claim her because afterward, she’ll be in my house and under my control. Even though I’ve just gotten off, my cock twitches at that thought. Should I make her my little slave? Forcing her to quit her job to live in the house? Perhaps I can attach a chain to her ankle, forcing her to stay inside and never leave.
Either way, she’s going to wear a tracker. Somehow, some way. Even if I have to hold her down and implant it myself. Allowing one more small smile, I knock on Dean Anderson’s door and walk inside.
He sits at his massive desk, his gaze frantic as he looks over the papers scattered on the surface. Where Shelaine’s was immaculate, his is nothing but chaos and disorder. My fingers itch as I watch him fumbling through, trying to put it into order.
“You wanted to see me?”
His head pops up then he goes back to organizing. “Yes. Don’t mind the mess. We just have a massive influx of scholarship students coming in next year, and I’m trying to get them all sorted. Hey. Look. Someone from your neck of the woods.
I take the application and look it over. Marnie Duprie. The name isn’t at all familiar. Neither is her face. She has nothing about her that’s alluring or catches my eye. In fact, if she walked by me right now, I wouldn’t remember her.
How many fuckers from Ashen Springs are going to show up here? I’ve already seen Sean Callahan tossing around the football. I know he’s not here because of a scholarship. Maybe he’s trying to get away too. I know the Ravens have wanted to get their talons into him. Perhaps, like me, this is a safe haven, somewhere we can run to escape the cruel eye of Micha and his minions.
Granted, to my knowledge, Sean wasn’t an enemy of theirs, and thus, his being here made absolutely no sense. But it’s not like I’m going to ask him. I know he saw me just like I saw him. We both nodded, knowing we weren’t going to be buddies or friends. We don’t have to be friends to coexist.
Shoving it to the side, I look back down at the photo of the girl in the frumpy clothes. Nothing about her looks familiar. The only thing that tells me anything is her address. No doubt she’s been mucking about with the Ravens down there. I wouldn’t be shocked if she was coming here as a plant, one of Micha’s bitches to spy on me.
But that thought doesn’t do anything to shake the calm that’s been my refuge since touching Shelaine. Besides, what does it matter if they know I’m here? As a Society Dominant, they can’t get to me. I’m untouchable. A fucking God.
Turning back to Dean Anderson, I drop the application back on the desk. Whoever she is, she will get a rude awakening if she tries to destroy my life. For the first time since Ryker, I’ve got it all. I have a submissive that I’ve wanted and craved that I can finally own. I have a much better job than the one down in Florida. And I can start to breathe a little easier knowing no one can truly get to me here.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” Dean Anderson’s voice is a little distracted as he puts the papers into stacks, then separates them again.
With a huff, he pushes the intercom button and goes back to fiddling. I didn’t hear a sound, but soon, the door opens, and Shelaine walks in. Her steps are slow, halting, and a grin curls my lips. No doubt she’s trying to keep the evidence of our interlude hidden.
When she tugs at the skirt, pulling it away from her skin, it confirms it. The poor thing turns a bright shade of red as she looks down and fidgets with her fingers. She will soon learn to never be ashamed of the things I do to her.
“I am allowed to do whatever I wish to a Society submissive as long as it’s within their limits, and they’re unowned. Correct?”
At my query, Dean Anderson pops his head up and glances between Shelaine and me, a soft frown furrowing his brow. “That is correct.”
“Good. Shelaine, lift up your skirt and show the dean what you’re hiding.”
Both look at me, then at each other. After a moment or two, her blue eyes turn to me as she bites down on her lower lip. The soft shake of her head is almost imperceptible, but I see it. I see everything. She will not be allowed to hide. Not anymore, and especially not with me.
Lowering my hand back to my belt, I watch in amusement as she squirms but still doesn't obey. “Seems to me we have a disobedient submissive. What do we do to them, Dean?”
Shelaine’s fingers curl into the fabric of her skirt as she tosses a pleading look my way. Is it because we’re in front of the dean? He needs to learn that she’s mine, and what better way than to show him my cum dripping from her body, soaked into those delicate pink panties.
“Shelaine. You know he’s right. He’s a Loftry Dominant. As such, you must obey him. Show me or face the consequences.”
“Pl-please, John. Don’t make me -.”
A frisson of anger rises through my body at the familiarity she shows to him. She has no right calling him by his first name, as if they were lovers. The only name I want dripping from her lips is mine, preferably with Master in front of it. Rocking back and forth on my heels, I stare her down, choosing to play this game by their rules.
In Malum, she would have been summarily beaten and, more than likely, had privileges taken away. But I don’t want to be like that. Not with her. She’s the one fragile piece of the joy I have, and I don’t want to destroy her. Break her? Most definitely, but never destroy. I need her light to combat my darkness, and that will never happen if I snuff it out.
“Did you just refer to the dean here by his first name?” I interject, enjoying this game of cat and mouse. “Doesn’t seem very respectful to me. Even I don’t call him John.”
“He’s right, Shelaine. What’s gotten into you? You’re usually my good girl. What’s going on?”
My body bristles at his endearment of good girl. She’s not his good girl. She’s mine. Taking a step forward, I wrap my good hand around her arm and yank her forward, dropping my lips to her ear.
“You continue to test me like this, then we are going to have a problem. I never want to hear good girl come out of his mouth again where you’re concerned. You’re my good girl. Though, right now, you’re acting more like a recalcitrant brat. Now step over to his desk, pull your goddamn panties down and spread your pussy out for him to see who’s cum drips from your fucking cunt.”
I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be just another Ryker, but she has to learn to submit to me. If I’m going to own her, then that means I own all of her. My cock twitches as she looks up at me, a flash of fear clouding her eyes. I don’t exactly want her fear, but it makes me even harder. Pulling her to the desk, I clear off a space and force her to bend over before stepping away, giving her an opportunity to obey me without help.
By now, Dean Anderson is out from behind the desk, his face furrowed in confusion. Standing back, I cross my arms and watch as her small fingers grip the edges of the skirt and pull it up, showing off her panties. Because of the lacy design, I can’t really see my cum stains, but the damp spot is all too apparent.
She stands there, her body shaking as her nails dig into the material. Am I pushing too far? Am I doing too much? My brain bounces around as I stare at the swell of her ass. What I’m doing is nothing compared to what Ryker would do if I directly disobeyed him, and yet, she’s trembling like a leaf in the precursor of a hurricane.
A frown tugs at my lips as I think back through her limits again. Nothing about humiliation or corporal punishment was listed, so why is she so afraid? Is she worried about what Dean Anderson thinks? Because, if that’s the case, she’s going to learn soon that she should only be concerned with what I think.
Unless he owns her, his opinion means shit. “Finish doing what I ordered.” My voice is deep, husky, and full of dark promises of retribution.
She shivers again, but this time, I watch as the damp spot on her panties gets just a bit darker. Perhaps she’s not trembling out of fear, but instead, it’s arousal? I have no idea how to quantify this. The only semi-healthy sexual relationship I’ve had was with Lana and Parker. And even then, it’s not like I was able to just sit down and have a Q&A with them.
Though it wasn't just a one-time thing, I still held myself back. I never let them see the monster beneath the surface. Our relationship was shallow. Granted, they probably thought way more about it than I did. But even the times that I watched them, trying to figure out how to make things work in an actual relationship, I wasn’t able to relate.