Beg Me: Part Four
http://www.interracialerotica.net/erotica/articles/93/1/Beg-Me-Part-Four/Page1.html
By Tracy Ames
Published on September 1, 2009
Over the next few weeks, Mark and Sydney’s relationship began to take on the appearance of normality. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t rushed. It was comfortable in ways neither questioned. This alone stood in stark contrast to their previous quasi- liaisons.
Women were always attracted to Mark’s domineering exterior but sought to mentally castrate him at the first sign of self-thought. Needless to say those relationships were short lived. And with Sydney there were the “fixers”; the men who endeavored to lure her away from a life of sin in an effort to save her mortal soul. And when those attempts proved futile, they presented ultimatums that were generally met with the gently breeze of the door being slammed in their faces.
In the solace of their isolated world, their neutral space where they debated openly, laughed until it hurt, exchanged ideas, and spent their quiet time: they were validated. There was no need to justify who and what they were. No need to explain the long nights and the occasional abrasion. No need to conceal their endorphin withdrawals of Dom drop, a common occurrence after Mark’s extended scenes with overzealous subs feeding on his energy; leaving him detached and withdrawn.
Sydney arrived at his flat later than normal finding Mark sound asleep yet exhibiting clear signs of Dom drop; tossing, turning, irritated. Calmly sliding into bed behind him, she wrapped her body around his and breathed evenly. She eased his head back and stroked his hair as he rested in her arms, replenishing his depleted energy as he had done for her.
“Breathe, my love,” she whispered holding him close until she felt him relax against her. He obeyed, giving himself over to her care.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I have done this alone for all these years,” Mark admitted pressing her hand to his lips. “I’m so tired, Syd.”
“There aren’t many people who can perform at our level. Rest now,” she replied.
As was their Saturday morning ritual, Mark and Sydney walked to the local coffee house. On the weekends the establishment bustled with locals sipping beverages, playing chest or simply lounging away people watching while chatting with friends from one of the many settees dotting the room. The beauty of her mezzo-soprano vocals often left Mark in awe. Mark sat relaxing with his paper while Sydney hummed along with the piped in café music and surfed the net for holiday locations. It was time they took a break and got away from the city.
Though she nurtured him, the hints of sadness in her eyes led Mark to believe there was a part of her in reserve, kept away from even him. He didn’t push the subject. In time she would open up. Around his paper, he studied the graceful lines of her profile and neck, wondering if she realize how magnificent she was. Flawed, perfectly imperfect.
“Can I get you another coffee?” one of the servers asked Mark, interrupting him mid-thought.
“Yes, I’ll have another and Sydney…?” he offered, she didn’t answer. “She’ll have another as well, thank you.”
“What do you think about going down to Destin Florida or maybe up to Brattleboro Vermont?” Sydney asked without peeling her concentration from her screen.
“If we go south we’ll miss the cold weather but we’ll miss the last snow. You really are putting a lot a thought into this aren’t you?” he observed.
“Of course,” her eyes met his. “This is our first trip together. I wanted it to be special.”
“It’s going to be special regardless,” he stopped as the server delivered their orders. “Anyway you decide is fine with me as long as we’re out of the city.”
“Iowa it is then.” She smiled leaning back on the sofa. Mark damn near choke on his coffee.
“Why in hell’s name would you want to go to Iowa? Don’t plan on intervening with me and my family. The lines of communication were severed years ago and I doubt adding you into the equation will help matters; it’s a closed subject.”
Sydney rolled her eyes. “I’m not intervening but I do think, maybe, perhaps….”
Mark shook his head smiling. “Get it out of your pretty little head. It’s not happening,” his phone rang. “I have to take this outside.” He stood walking out with the phone pressed to his ear when he caught Sydney watching him walk away. He smiled and doubled back, giving her a panty-dropping kiss.
She kissed him twice then whispered close to his ear. “When we get home, I’m going to fuck you until you beg.” Mark gave a sinister grin as their eyes met.
“Good luck making that happen,” he handed her the cup of coffee. “Drink up, you’ll need the stamina.” He gave a shy wink and left Sydney under the heavy gaze of every woman in the room.
*******
“I can’t believe you’re making me do my own grocery shopping,” Sydney complained pushing their cart around Sam’s Warehouse.
“I can’t believe you’ve never done your own shopping.” Mark replied tossing a bag of mixed salad into the cart. Sydney quickly removed it.
“That’s what my assistants are for,” she maneuvered the cart around a six-pack family. “Why did we have to come here on a Saturday? It’s too damn crowded.”
Mark returned with an arm full of various vegetables, looking at her pouty face. “Because this is how normal people shop, not everyone has assistants waiting on them hand and foot,” he searched the cart for the bag of salad, then accusingly up at Sydney. She rolled her eyes and retrieved the discarded bag. “You’ve got to start eating better Syd.” Mark continued as they walked.
“I eat well enough thank you very much,” she hoofed trying to avoid running over a lady passing out food samples who refused to take no for an answer. She accepted with a brief smile, placing it in the cart with the other dozen or so samples collected since their arrival. By now, Mark was half way up the produce aisle swooping an irksome child out of the banana bin and returning him to his mother.
“I freaking hate this place,” Sydney said. Mark steered the cart out of the middle of the aisle where she’d left it and pulled her against him.
“For a woman who has the power to bring any man to his knees, you sure as hell flunked this test.” He chuckled. “This is easy, people do it everyday.”
“Not people like me,” she mouthed into his chest. “I can’t be domesticated. I’m a Domme; we’re waited on. This is bullshit.”
“I see I’ll be raising the kids,” Mark laughed.
“Kids? You want kids?”
“Maybe, but not anytime soon.” He began pushing the cart.
“Goodness, I was afraid for a second.”
“I didn’t say I wanted them with you,” he teased. “You can’t even do the shopping alone. Yeah, you’re the woman I want raising my children.”
She shot him a dirty look. “You won’t have to worry about that because you won’t be getting any for a while, Big Mouth.” smugly she walked to the checkout line, aware that he was watching her ass. She stood awaiting his next move. Within seconds, she felt Mark’s powerful arm snake around waist gently drawing their bodies together. He leaned close to her ear; his warm breath, his pure seduction, aroused her senses. A low moan escaped Sydney’s lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, completely forgetting they were in the checkout line with tons of shoppers surrounding them.
“You’re a horny bitch,” Mark whispered in a low register. “I’m looking forward to fucking the hell out of you. Would you like that?”
“Yes,”
“Yes who?” the tension in my arm grew.
“Yes sir,” she muttered between them.
“Good girl. I want to make you cum,” Mark smirked. “I’m going to tie you up and have my way with you.” His hand roamed up and thumbed over her nipple once; she inhaled sharply. His words caused her pussy to tremble.
“Mmmm, make me your fuck-toy, daddy. Spank me.”
Mark remained stone-faced, not drawing attention to their illicit PDA. “You want me to spank you?”
“You know I do,” Sydney purred. He loosened his grip, Sydney pushed back against him, not wanting him to release her. It was the reaction Mark hoped to elicit; she was a willing participant in this clandestine game. Thank goodness for long checkout lines.
He kissed the side of her neck and whispered. “I want you to beg me.”
“Oh shit,” She bit her bottom lip; the early signs of orgasm began to build. “Please spank me.”
“Are you wet?” they moved forward as another customer completed their transaction.
“Yes sir.”
“Tighten your pussy,” he ordered keeping a watchful eye on the people around them. She obeyed, her walls held tight, she fought not to cum. “Do you know what I am going to do to you?”
“No,” Sydney mouthed.
He caressed her waist, rubbing her tenderly until she relaxed. “When I get you home, I’m going to slide your pants off, leaving your nice little thong in place,” his words came slowly as his free hand skirted the waistband of her jeans. She parted her soft lips anticipating his next words. “Lean you over the back of the sofa with your ass in the air, spread you legs apart, and proceed to spank you lightly.”
“Harder, please.” Her body jerked, he settled her.
“I’ll give it to you harder right before I run my hand between your beautiful thighs, over your clit,” she whimpered feeling each of his movements as he spoke. “Then I’ll check to see if you’re ready.”
Sydney was on the verge of collapse but she needed to verbally hear his plans for her. She needed him to take her over the top here in public, in front of everyone without their knowledge. She concentrated on his energy, his hidden erection pressed into her back; she demanded to be taken.
“What do you want me ready for, sir?”
Just out of sight of the other customers, Mark gripped her ass and spoke through his teeth. “I’m going to pin your arms behind your back and fuck you until you speak in tongues,”
He held Sydney, her knees weak; each orgasmic contraction savagely suckled her clit sending tiny electric shocks spinning through her until at last ending with a sound akin to a string of horse coughs. She recouped just enough to greet the cashier without her earth shuddering orgasm being too obvious.
“How are you today?” Mark inquired, his smug smile beamed at the cashier.
“What are you reading?” Mark asked Sydney, handing her a glass of wine as she reclined on his sofa, letters and papers scattered about her.
“Nonsense for the most part,” she straightened the pile of papers in her lap. Mark took a seat in a chair athwart her, sipping from his glass. “Did you receive your invitation for regional ball?”
“Yes, I received it. When is it again?”
“March 28th,” she said passing him the invitation. “We have a little over a month to prepare.”
“Are we going to attend?” He scanned it briefly and studied Sydney’s consternation.
She sighed. “I would like to attend but…”
“But what?”
“How do you think we will be received?” she asked slowly.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t think our union will be greeted with open arms,” Mark ran his fingers around the rim of his glass in thought. You and I, the two of us, at the height of our profession, together,” he hoofed. “I doubt anyone will be pleased.”
“Does that bother you?”
Mark’s cold impish eyes flew to hers, a smirk turned his lips. “Not in the least. Let them talk.”
“They’ll do more than talk, Mark. Separately, we are in demand. Together, we can corner the market; we call the shots. Together, we have the power to make or destroy any and all of them on a whim,” she pointed out. Mark sighed heavily, jaws clinched, he knew she was right. “A union like ours has never occurred. Does that change your thinking?”
“No, not at all; as a matter of fact, it makes me even more eager for the confrontation. We speak, we are not spoken to,” he stood placing the invitation on the coffee table and then met her eyes. “We make demands; they don’t dare make demands of us.”
Sydney smiled. “You honestly believe that?”
“Absolutely,”
“Then you’re a fool,” she stood walking to the kitchen, he followed wine glass in hand. “There is too much money on the line. They will rebel.”
How many apprentices have you trained over the years?”
She thought for a moment. “Five.”
“How many of those are now considered influential leaders in the field?” he asked
“All of them.” Sydney quickly saw where his reasoning was heading. Mark circled her, pouring another glass of wine.
“And how many lucrative clients are you pumping down to them annually?”
“Countless,”
Self-assured, he leaned against the granite countertop. “I have trained seven and given the amount of money they rake in yearly based solely on that fact…”
“We’re impervious,” she said flatly, a wicked grin perked her lips.
“Indeed, we are.”
“I love the way your mind works.” Sydney proclaimed, looping her arms around his neck. “I was beginning to worry.”
Mark’s eyes softened, fixed on hers. “You have no need to worry. I will never allow anything to happen to you.” he pledged earnestly. His raw honesty frightened her yet from under her trepidation, she found a convincing smile.
“You’d better take care of me,” she teased. “I’m a whole lot of woman. I can’t go out and get a real 9 to 5 like everyone else. You saw me at Sam’s today! I don’t even do my own shopping.”
“You’re rotten!” he laughed.
“No, I’m a Domme in every sense of the word. Spoiled, yes! Egotistical, totally! Willing to change, nope!”
“I wouldn’t have expected any different. But you left out couple.”
“What?” she asked.
Mark kissed her lightly and then took her by the hand, walking silently to the bedroom. Without breaking their eye contact, he removed his clothing revealing his god-like form and sat on the end of the bed with her standing between his legs. He slowly, methodically removed her clothing piece by piece with surgical precision, leaving her standing before him, exposed. Mark’s lazy hands caressed the smooth caramel lines of her breast, her waist, and her legs. His fingertips left tiny phosphorescence trials of electricity in his wake.
“Compassionate,” He answered her and kissed the flat of her stomach softly. “And sexy.” He kissed her again. As he pulled away, he noticed her eyes were closed. She opened them slowly and smiled down at him as he slid a finger between her thighs; its tip barely touching her wet labia, his other hand held her ass, restricting her movement.
“Don’t move, beautiful,” he insisted, kissing her waist as his digit worked perversely below her pubic mound; manipulating her into a state of perpetual trance-like satisfaction. The echoes of her mounting arousal pushed her cognitive skills to the threshold of collapse.
“Do you want me to get you off?” he asked looking up at her, his strokes measured and steady. Sydney replied with little more than a high pitched whimper, hands braced on Mark’s muscular shoulders.
“I love when you beg.”
“Why?” she struggled breathlessly.
“Because when you beg,” Mark kissed and stroked. “It means that you have abdicated all responsibility for your pleasure and ascribe all control to me; allowing me to do what I please for as long as I please.” The power of his voice fueled the shudders of acceptance in her suppliant pussy as she hovered in a paroxysm state of unending climatic restraint.
“Mark,” her voice broke.
“Yes, my love.” He answered.
“I’m going to fuck you until you beg,” her tone went cold and hard. Quick as a fox, Sydney took hold of his throat, pushing him flat on his back. Mounting him astride, she impaled herself, to the point of ecstasy, on his generous cock, rocking back and forth as he gasped for air feeling the murmurs of her pleasure articulated in the anemone-pulsing of her warring pussy.
“Goddamn woman!” were the last audible words he spoke, with each perverse nadir and apogee of her hips stroked his cock, eliciting grunts of guttural nonsense as she fucked him into the dark abyss of subspace. Mark lay helplessly, gripping her ass, watching Sydney toiling up and down, cringing from the unimaginable torment served by of the fullness of his corporeal rigidity manhandling her cervix.
Undaunted, she continued using his well-muscled cock for her pleasure, no pain. The line between the two began to blur until they were indistinguishable; becoming one in the same. As Sydney’s marathon fuck approached its apex it was clear that any enjoyment Mark was receiving was secondary. He languished, reduced to nothing more than a phallic conduit whose sole purpose was to serve her unruly libido.
Mark bellowed something akin to “fffuuuccckk!” as he waved the white flag, surrendering his cum to Sydney’s pussy like trained synchronized regiment. Seeing him convulse beneath her control, she leaned back, took hold of his calf, thrust her hips and fucked him with temporary insanity until she came hard and long; calling him name repeatedly.
Gasping she sat atop his splay undulation riddled body as they calmed themselves, his chest heaved under her hands keeping him in place.
“Did you just take sex off of me?” Mark finally labored.
“Yes,” Sydney smiled back down at him.
He rubbed his eyes. “Do you realize I’ve never done that before?”
Done what?” Sydney questioned.
“I’ve never cum while being ridden. I take that back. You are the first woman to ever ride me.”
“You were serious when you said you never switch!” Sydney said taken aback by Mark’s frank confession.
“Of course I was serious. You’ve deflowered me,” He lifted her from him, stumbling from the bed half exhausted.
“Where are you going?” she called after him.
“I gotta go find my balls. Where in the hell did you put them?” he laughed.
The late evening sun was making its final descent when Sydney arrived at her parent’s mausoleum for her weekly visit. She walked through the door and was immediately struck by the climate change. There had always been heaviness about the room but this time there was an element of lightness. Trepidation crawled down her spine as she unwrapped, heels clacking on the concrete floor.
“Dad,” she called. There was no answer, just the stillness. She waited, still his voice went unheard. Her heart began to race, her breathing unsettled.
“Daddy,” she called again desperately.
“You rang?” his husky voice answered.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here for almost thirty minutes waiting for you.” Relief and distress filled her voice.
“I’m here, where am I going?”
“How about answering me when I call you.”
“Look who’s getting upset! You sure took your sweet time getting here today. The ground’s gates will be closing soon.”
“Sorry, Mark and I had a late lunch,” Sydney said laying flat on the bench.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together. That’s good. Maybe he’ll make an honest woman out of you.”
“Who knows.” She shrugged.
“You didn’t say no,” there was a smile in his voice. “Well, this is a change.”
Her mood lightened exposing a bright, albeit unwilling, smile. “I don’t know, we’ll see how things going.”
“He does sound like a good guy, Sydney.”
“He is, daddy,” her voice heavy. “Before I met him, I couldn’t fathom that there was man with the capacity to hold all of my uncertainties. For all of my strengths, I had these whiny voices of insecurity in the back of my head telling me that I wasn’t good enough. But with him all of them go away. Daddy, he has given me hope that one day I’ll normal.”
“Sweetheart, you are normal. There is nothing wrong with you. Has he tried to change you?”
“No,” she admitted. “But he doesn’t know what I come here every Sunday to chat with you.” She laughed.
“You come here because for years, I was all you had. As you open yourself up to Mark you won’t need me as much,” She tried to interrupt him but he continued. “I’m not saying that you don’t love me and your mother. I’m simply saying you will begin to trust him.”
“I do trust him,”
“Then I don’t understand why you are so afraid of being happy.”
She inhaled sharply. “Because in my sorrow I know that you are here; I can hear you. I’m afraid that if I’m too happy….then I’ll loose you, like I lost mom. I can’t hear her anymore. She doesn’t talk to me.”
“You can’t remember you mother’s voice because you were so young. You have her old records, play them, sing along but didn’t think she’s not looking over you. We’re not going anywhere but as you begin to build something special with Mark, you’ll see that coming here is meaningless. We are with you no matter where you are, Sydney,” he paused.
“Now, dry eyes and get your happy ass home to that man before it gets too late. I’ll talk to you next week.” He ordered warmly.
“I can’t believe you’re rushing me off!” She chuckled.
“Would you rather the groundskeeper kick you out?”
“You’re right. I’d better go,” Sydney put on her coat and gloves. “I’ll be back next Friday. We’re leaving for Iowa Saturday morning.”
“Iowa? Why Iowa?” he asked.
“He’s an Iowa farm boy. We’re going to see his folks.” She sighed.
“What’s the matter? I sense there’s a story there.”
“It’s complicated. He hasn’t spoken to his family in ten years. They aren’t as close as we are. They don’t understand our lifestyle.”
“Do you think it was easy for me to explain our lifestyle to my parents? No, it was difficult but we muddled through it. They will do the same but you can not force the matter; support him but don’t force it. If he is against the meeting then you should back off.”
“Fine,” she conceded. “Give my love to mom.”
“I love you Sydney. And I have a feeling the next time you come, he’ll be with you.”
******
Later that night as they lye asleep.
Mark was awoken by Sydney’s constant movement. Attempting to settle her nerves, he took her into his arms resting her head on her chest. She pushed him away with violent force, turning her back to him.
Now fully awake, he sat up turning on the bedside light. She lay in a quasi-fetal position weeping.
“Sydney, wake up honey.” He said softly rousing her, drying her cheeks. She awoke and curled trembling into Mark apologizing. Her bad dreams were becoming commonplace however this was the first time he’d seen her in this state.
“I’m so sorry, Mark.” She said woefully.
“Sydney, why are you apologizing to me?” he asked his body suffused with hers.
“I’m sorry for carrying on like this,” she held on to him for dear life. “Just hold me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever leaving you.”
“I know you won’t” she giggled through her tears. “You’ll allow me to drive you crazy before you leave me.”
He smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t go that far, I’m still a damn man. But I won’t let thing or anyone hurt you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Get some sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
For Your Viewing Pleasure...."Beg Me" Part Four
Top Dom/mes, Sydney Cummings, an African-American Goddess and Mark Bryant, a man with a body that was chiseled from a slab of solid hotness, have a score to settle. Who will be the first to beg? With both of their reputations on the line, this is going to be a fight to the very end.
This story is sensual, sexy, and HOT...you've been warned
Top Dom/mes, Sydney Cummings, an African-American Goddess and Mark Bryant, a man with a body that was chiseled from a slab of solid hotness, have a score to settle. Who will be the first to beg? With both of their reputations on the line, this is going to be a fight to the very end.
This story is sensual, sexy, and HOT...you've been warned
Beg Me: Part Four
Over the next few weeks, Mark and Sydney’s relationship began to take on the appearance of normality. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t rushed. It was comfortable in ways neither questioned. This alone stood in stark contrast to their previous quasi- liaisons.
Women were always attracted to Mark’s domineering exterior but sought to mentally castrate him at the first sign of self-thought. Needless to say those relationships were short lived. And with Sydney there were the “fixers”; the men who endeavored to lure her away from a life of sin in an effort to save her mortal soul. And when those attempts proved futile, they presented ultimatums that were generally met with the gently breeze of the door being slammed in their faces.
In the solace of their isolated world, their neutral space where they debated openly, laughed until it hurt, exchanged ideas, and spent their quiet time: they were validated. There was no need to justify who and what they were. No need to explain the long nights and the occasional abrasion. No need to conceal their endorphin withdrawals of Dom drop, a common occurrence after Mark’s extended scenes with overzealous subs feeding on his energy; leaving him detached and withdrawn.
Sydney arrived at his flat later than normal finding Mark sound asleep yet exhibiting clear signs of Dom drop; tossing, turning, irritated. Calmly sliding into bed behind him, she wrapped her body around his and breathed evenly. She eased his head back and stroked his hair as he rested in her arms, replenishing his depleted energy as he had done for her.
“Breathe, my love,” she whispered holding him close until she felt him relax against her. He obeyed, giving himself over to her care.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I have done this alone for all these years,” Mark admitted pressing her hand to his lips. “I’m so tired, Syd.”
“There aren’t many people who can perform at our level. Rest now,” she replied.
As was their Saturday morning ritual, Mark and Sydney walked to the local coffee house. On the weekends the establishment bustled with locals sipping beverages, playing chest or simply lounging away people watching while chatting with friends from one of the many settees dotting the room. The beauty of her mezzo-soprano vocals often left Mark in awe. Mark sat relaxing with his paper while Sydney hummed along with the piped in café music and surfed the net for holiday locations. It was time they took a break and got away from the city.
Though she nurtured him, the hints of sadness in her eyes led Mark to believe there was a part of her in reserve, kept away from even him. He didn’t push the subject. In time she would open up. Around his paper, he studied the graceful lines of her profile and neck, wondering if she realize how magnificent she was. Flawed, perfectly imperfect.
“Can I get you another coffee?” one of the servers asked Mark, interrupting him mid-thought.
“Yes, I’ll have another and Sydney…?” he offered, she didn’t answer. “She’ll have another as well, thank you.”
“What do you think about going down to Destin Florida or maybe up to Brattleboro Vermont?” Sydney asked without peeling her concentration from her screen.
“If we go south we’ll miss the cold weather but we’ll miss the last snow. You really are putting a lot a thought into this aren’t you?” he observed.
“Of course,” her eyes met his. “This is our first trip together. I wanted it to be special.”
“It’s going to be special regardless,” he stopped as the server delivered their orders. “Anyway you decide is fine with me as long as we’re out of the city.”
“Iowa it is then.” She smiled leaning back on the sofa. Mark damn near choke on his coffee.
“Why in hell’s name would you want to go to Iowa? Don’t plan on intervening with me and my family. The lines of communication were severed years ago and I doubt adding you into the equation will help matters; it’s a closed subject.”
Sydney rolled her eyes. “I’m not intervening but I do think, maybe, perhaps….”
Mark shook his head smiling. “Get it out of your pretty little head. It’s not happening,” his phone rang. “I have to take this outside.” He stood walking out with the phone pressed to his ear when he caught Sydney watching him walk away. He smiled and doubled back, giving her a panty-dropping kiss.
She kissed him twice then whispered close to his ear. “When we get home, I’m going to fuck you until you beg.” Mark gave a sinister grin as their eyes met.
“Good luck making that happen,” he handed her the cup of coffee. “Drink up, you’ll need the stamina.” He gave a shy wink and left Sydney under the heavy gaze of every woman in the room.
*******
“I can’t believe you’re making me do my own grocery shopping,” Sydney complained pushing their cart around Sam’s Warehouse.
“I can’t believe you’ve never done your own shopping.” Mark replied tossing a bag of mixed salad into the cart. Sydney quickly removed it.
“That’s what my assistants are for,” she maneuvered the cart around a six-pack family. “Why did we have to come here on a Saturday? It’s too damn crowded.”
Mark returned with an arm full of various vegetables, looking at her pouty face. “Because this is how normal people shop, not everyone has assistants waiting on them hand and foot,” he searched the cart for the bag of salad, then accusingly up at Sydney. She rolled her eyes and retrieved the discarded bag. “You’ve got to start eating better Syd.” Mark continued as they walked.
“I eat well enough thank you very much,” she hoofed trying to avoid running over a lady passing out food samples who refused to take no for an answer. She accepted with a brief smile, placing it in the cart with the other dozen or so samples collected since their arrival. By now, Mark was half way up the produce aisle swooping an irksome child out of the banana bin and returning him to his mother.
“I freaking hate this place,” Sydney said. Mark steered the cart out of the middle of the aisle where she’d left it and pulled her against him.
“For a woman who has the power to bring any man to his knees, you sure as hell flunked this test.” He chuckled. “This is easy, people do it everyday.”
“Not people like me,” she mouthed into his chest. “I can’t be domesticated. I’m a Domme; we’re waited on. This is bullshit.”
“I see I’ll be raising the kids,” Mark laughed.
“Kids? You want kids?”
“Maybe, but not anytime soon.” He began pushing the cart.
“Goodness, I was afraid for a second.”
“I didn’t say I wanted them with you,” he teased. “You can’t even do the shopping alone. Yeah, you’re the woman I want raising my children.”
She shot him a dirty look. “You won’t have to worry about that because you won’t be getting any for a while, Big Mouth.” smugly she walked to the checkout line, aware that he was watching her ass. She stood awaiting his next move. Within seconds, she felt Mark’s powerful arm snake around waist gently drawing their bodies together. He leaned close to her ear; his warm breath, his pure seduction, aroused her senses. A low moan escaped Sydney’s lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, completely forgetting they were in the checkout line with tons of shoppers surrounding them.
“You’re a horny bitch,” Mark whispered in a low register. “I’m looking forward to fucking the hell out of you. Would you like that?”
“Yes,”
“Yes who?” the tension in my arm grew.
“Yes sir,” she muttered between them.
“Good girl. I want to make you cum,” Mark smirked. “I’m going to tie you up and have my way with you.” His hand roamed up and thumbed over her nipple once; she inhaled sharply. His words caused her pussy to tremble.
“Mmmm, make me your fuck-toy, daddy. Spank me.”
Mark remained stone-faced, not drawing attention to their illicit PDA. “You want me to spank you?”
“You know I do,” Sydney purred. He loosened his grip, Sydney pushed back against him, not wanting him to release her. It was the reaction Mark hoped to elicit; she was a willing participant in this clandestine game. Thank goodness for long checkout lines.
He kissed the side of her neck and whispered. “I want you to beg me.”
“Oh shit,” She bit her bottom lip; the early signs of orgasm began to build. “Please spank me.”
“Are you wet?” they moved forward as another customer completed their transaction.
“Yes sir.”
“Tighten your pussy,” he ordered keeping a watchful eye on the people around them. She obeyed, her walls held tight, she fought not to cum. “Do you know what I am going to do to you?”
“No,” Sydney mouthed.
He caressed her waist, rubbing her tenderly until she relaxed. “When I get you home, I’m going to slide your pants off, leaving your nice little thong in place,” his words came slowly as his free hand skirted the waistband of her jeans. She parted her soft lips anticipating his next words. “Lean you over the back of the sofa with your ass in the air, spread you legs apart, and proceed to spank you lightly.”
“Harder, please.” Her body jerked, he settled her.
“I’ll give it to you harder right before I run my hand between your beautiful thighs, over your clit,” she whimpered feeling each of his movements as he spoke. “Then I’ll check to see if you’re ready.”
Sydney was on the verge of collapse but she needed to verbally hear his plans for her. She needed him to take her over the top here in public, in front of everyone without their knowledge. She concentrated on his energy, his hidden erection pressed into her back; she demanded to be taken.
“What do you want me ready for, sir?”
Just out of sight of the other customers, Mark gripped her ass and spoke through his teeth. “I’m going to pin your arms behind your back and fuck you until you speak in tongues,”
He held Sydney, her knees weak; each orgasmic contraction savagely suckled her clit sending tiny electric shocks spinning through her until at last ending with a sound akin to a string of horse coughs. She recouped just enough to greet the cashier without her earth shuddering orgasm being too obvious.
“How are you today?” Mark inquired, his smug smile beamed at the cashier.
Beg Me: Part Four
“What are you reading?” Mark asked Sydney, handing her a glass of wine as she reclined on his sofa, letters and papers scattered about her.
“Nonsense for the most part,” she straightened the pile of papers in her lap. Mark took a seat in a chair athwart her, sipping from his glass. “Did you receive your invitation for regional ball?”
“Yes, I received it. When is it again?”
“March 28th,” she said passing him the invitation. “We have a little over a month to prepare.”
“Are we going to attend?” He scanned it briefly and studied Sydney’s consternation.
She sighed. “I would like to attend but…”
“But what?”
“How do you think we will be received?” she asked slowly.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t think our union will be greeted with open arms,” Mark ran his fingers around the rim of his glass in thought. You and I, the two of us, at the height of our profession, together,” he hoofed. “I doubt anyone will be pleased.”
“Does that bother you?”
Mark’s cold impish eyes flew to hers, a smirk turned his lips. “Not in the least. Let them talk.”
“They’ll do more than talk, Mark. Separately, we are in demand. Together, we can corner the market; we call the shots. Together, we have the power to make or destroy any and all of them on a whim,” she pointed out. Mark sighed heavily, jaws clinched, he knew she was right. “A union like ours has never occurred. Does that change your thinking?”
“No, not at all; as a matter of fact, it makes me even more eager for the confrontation. We speak, we are not spoken to,” he stood placing the invitation on the coffee table and then met her eyes. “We make demands; they don’t dare make demands of us.”
Sydney smiled. “You honestly believe that?”
“Absolutely,”
“Then you’re a fool,” she stood walking to the kitchen, he followed wine glass in hand. “There is too much money on the line. They will rebel.”
How many apprentices have you trained over the years?”
She thought for a moment. “Five.”
“How many of those are now considered influential leaders in the field?” he asked
“All of them.” Sydney quickly saw where his reasoning was heading. Mark circled her, pouring another glass of wine.
“And how many lucrative clients are you pumping down to them annually?”
“Countless,”
Self-assured, he leaned against the granite countertop. “I have trained seven and given the amount of money they rake in yearly based solely on that fact…”
“We’re impervious,” she said flatly, a wicked grin perked her lips.
“Indeed, we are.”
“I love the way your mind works.” Sydney proclaimed, looping her arms around his neck. “I was beginning to worry.”
Mark’s eyes softened, fixed on hers. “You have no need to worry. I will never allow anything to happen to you.” he pledged earnestly. His raw honesty frightened her yet from under her trepidation, she found a convincing smile.
“You’d better take care of me,” she teased. “I’m a whole lot of woman. I can’t go out and get a real 9 to 5 like everyone else. You saw me at Sam’s today! I don’t even do my own shopping.”
“You’re rotten!” he laughed.
“No, I’m a Domme in every sense of the word. Spoiled, yes! Egotistical, totally! Willing to change, nope!”
“I wouldn’t have expected any different. But you left out couple.”
“What?” she asked.
Mark kissed her lightly and then took her by the hand, walking silently to the bedroom. Without breaking their eye contact, he removed his clothing revealing his god-like form and sat on the end of the bed with her standing between his legs. He slowly, methodically removed her clothing piece by piece with surgical precision, leaving her standing before him, exposed. Mark’s lazy hands caressed the smooth caramel lines of her breast, her waist, and her legs. His fingertips left tiny phosphorescence trials of electricity in his wake.
“Compassionate,” He answered her and kissed the flat of her stomach softly. “And sexy.” He kissed her again. As he pulled away, he noticed her eyes were closed. She opened them slowly and smiled down at him as he slid a finger between her thighs; its tip barely touching her wet labia, his other hand held her ass, restricting her movement.
“Don’t move, beautiful,” he insisted, kissing her waist as his digit worked perversely below her pubic mound; manipulating her into a state of perpetual trance-like satisfaction. The echoes of her mounting arousal pushed her cognitive skills to the threshold of collapse.
“Do you want me to get you off?” he asked looking up at her, his strokes measured and steady. Sydney replied with little more than a high pitched whimper, hands braced on Mark’s muscular shoulders.
“I love when you beg.”
“Why?” she struggled breathlessly.
“Because when you beg,” Mark kissed and stroked. “It means that you have abdicated all responsibility for your pleasure and ascribe all control to me; allowing me to do what I please for as long as I please.” The power of his voice fueled the shudders of acceptance in her suppliant pussy as she hovered in a paroxysm state of unending climatic restraint.
“Mark,” her voice broke.
“Yes, my love.” He answered.
“I’m going to fuck you until you beg,” her tone went cold and hard. Quick as a fox, Sydney took hold of his throat, pushing him flat on his back. Mounting him astride, she impaled herself, to the point of ecstasy, on his generous cock, rocking back and forth as he gasped for air feeling the murmurs of her pleasure articulated in the anemone-pulsing of her warring pussy.
“Goddamn woman!” were the last audible words he spoke, with each perverse nadir and apogee of her hips stroked his cock, eliciting grunts of guttural nonsense as she fucked him into the dark abyss of subspace. Mark lay helplessly, gripping her ass, watching Sydney toiling up and down, cringing from the unimaginable torment served by of the fullness of his corporeal rigidity manhandling her cervix.
Undaunted, she continued using his well-muscled cock for her pleasure, no pain. The line between the two began to blur until they were indistinguishable; becoming one in the same. As Sydney’s marathon fuck approached its apex it was clear that any enjoyment Mark was receiving was secondary. He languished, reduced to nothing more than a phallic conduit whose sole purpose was to serve her unruly libido.
Mark bellowed something akin to “fffuuuccckk!” as he waved the white flag, surrendering his cum to Sydney’s pussy like trained synchronized regiment. Seeing him convulse beneath her control, she leaned back, took hold of his calf, thrust her hips and fucked him with temporary insanity until she came hard and long; calling him name repeatedly.
Gasping she sat atop his splay undulation riddled body as they calmed themselves, his chest heaved under her hands keeping him in place.
“Did you just take sex off of me?” Mark finally labored.
“Yes,” Sydney smiled back down at him.
He rubbed his eyes. “Do you realize I’ve never done that before?”
Done what?” Sydney questioned.
“I’ve never cum while being ridden. I take that back. You are the first woman to ever ride me.”
“You were serious when you said you never switch!” Sydney said taken aback by Mark’s frank confession.
“Of course I was serious. You’ve deflowered me,” He lifted her from him, stumbling from the bed half exhausted.
“Where are you going?” she called after him.
“I gotta go find my balls. Where in the hell did you put them?” he laughed.
Beg Me: Part Four
The late evening sun was making its final descent when Sydney arrived at her parent’s mausoleum for her weekly visit. She walked through the door and was immediately struck by the climate change. There had always been heaviness about the room but this time there was an element of lightness. Trepidation crawled down her spine as she unwrapped, heels clacking on the concrete floor.
“Dad,” she called. There was no answer, just the stillness. She waited, still his voice went unheard. Her heart began to race, her breathing unsettled.
“Daddy,” she called again desperately.
“You rang?” his husky voice answered.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here for almost thirty minutes waiting for you.” Relief and distress filled her voice.
“I’m here, where am I going?”
“How about answering me when I call you.”
“Look who’s getting upset! You sure took your sweet time getting here today. The ground’s gates will be closing soon.”
“Sorry, Mark and I had a late lunch,” Sydney said laying flat on the bench.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together. That’s good. Maybe he’ll make an honest woman out of you.”
“Who knows.” She shrugged.
“You didn’t say no,” there was a smile in his voice. “Well, this is a change.”
Her mood lightened exposing a bright, albeit unwilling, smile. “I don’t know, we’ll see how things going.”
“He does sound like a good guy, Sydney.”
“He is, daddy,” her voice heavy. “Before I met him, I couldn’t fathom that there was man with the capacity to hold all of my uncertainties. For all of my strengths, I had these whiny voices of insecurity in the back of my head telling me that I wasn’t good enough. But with him all of them go away. Daddy, he has given me hope that one day I’ll normal.”
“Sweetheart, you are normal. There is nothing wrong with you. Has he tried to change you?”
“No,” she admitted. “But he doesn’t know what I come here every Sunday to chat with you.” She laughed.
“You come here because for years, I was all you had. As you open yourself up to Mark you won’t need me as much,” She tried to interrupt him but he continued. “I’m not saying that you don’t love me and your mother. I’m simply saying you will begin to trust him.”
“I do trust him,”
“Then I don’t understand why you are so afraid of being happy.”
She inhaled sharply. “Because in my sorrow I know that you are here; I can hear you. I’m afraid that if I’m too happy….then I’ll loose you, like I lost mom. I can’t hear her anymore. She doesn’t talk to me.”
“You can’t remember you mother’s voice because you were so young. You have her old records, play them, sing along but didn’t think she’s not looking over you. We’re not going anywhere but as you begin to build something special with Mark, you’ll see that coming here is meaningless. We are with you no matter where you are, Sydney,” he paused.
“Now, dry eyes and get your happy ass home to that man before it gets too late. I’ll talk to you next week.” He ordered warmly.
“I can’t believe you’re rushing me off!” She chuckled.
“Would you rather the groundskeeper kick you out?”
“You’re right. I’d better go,” Sydney put on her coat and gloves. “I’ll be back next Friday. We’re leaving for Iowa Saturday morning.”
“Iowa? Why Iowa?” he asked.
“He’s an Iowa farm boy. We’re going to see his folks.” She sighed.
“What’s the matter? I sense there’s a story there.”
“It’s complicated. He hasn’t spoken to his family in ten years. They aren’t as close as we are. They don’t understand our lifestyle.”
“Do you think it was easy for me to explain our lifestyle to my parents? No, it was difficult but we muddled through it. They will do the same but you can not force the matter; support him but don’t force it. If he is against the meeting then you should back off.”
“Fine,” she conceded. “Give my love to mom.”
“I love you Sydney. And I have a feeling the next time you come, he’ll be with you.”
******
Later that night as they lye asleep.
Mark was awoken by Sydney’s constant movement. Attempting to settle her nerves, he took her into his arms resting her head on her chest. She pushed him away with violent force, turning her back to him.
Now fully awake, he sat up turning on the bedside light. She lay in a quasi-fetal position weeping.
“Sydney, wake up honey.” He said softly rousing her, drying her cheeks. She awoke and curled trembling into Mark apologizing. Her bad dreams were becoming commonplace however this was the first time he’d seen her in this state.
“I’m so sorry, Mark.” She said woefully.
“Sydney, why are you apologizing to me?” he asked his body suffused with hers.
“I’m sorry for carrying on like this,” she held on to him for dear life. “Just hold me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever leaving you.”
“I know you won’t” she giggled through her tears. “You’ll allow me to drive you crazy before you leave me.”
He smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t go that far, I’m still a damn man. But I won’t let thing or anyone hurt you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Get some sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”