Page 35 of The B!tch is Bad

“Daddy Dom, little girl,” he intoned.

I had no idea what he meant, but I loved it.

I loved it even more when he reached behind me, unstuck my palms from the tabletop, and threaded the cotton towel through my wrists.

“I like it when you’re helpless,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my neck. My head lolled back behind my shoulder blades.

“I like being helpless . . . around you,” I whispered.

I looked forward to Creed tying my ankles too, but he seemed to have other ideas. From out of nowhere he produced what looked like a strand of pearls. This man was a never-ending surprise. Securing the sort of bead collar behind my neck, he slid an attached strand down between my tits.

“You’re giving me a necklace?” My own voice sounded foreign to me. Like a third grader had taken control.

Whipping off his shirt, Creed pressed his broad, hairy chest to mine. He fiddled with the necklace between my tits, stiffening my nipples, getting my pussy primed for action. With my one-inch heeled sandals embedding me in the floor, I could easily thrust my pussy bone against his enormous hard-on. I’d been very impressed with the length and breadth of it. It was my personal theory that men with big noses . . .

“Not just a necklace,” he whispered against my throat. And then ping. Another ping. I yelped like a puppy when he clamped something around my nipple. Then the other one, complete with feathery soft caresses to my globes.

“Ah!” I cried, strangled. The clamps shot arrows of tight and metallic delight to my inner cunt. I took up a fast panting, looking down to admire my boobs, lifted from their D cups.

Creed jiggled a string of pearls with the finesse of a man who could stitch a turkey in twenty seconds flat. “Now, my little one. I think you’re completely at my mercy.”

No I’m not. I wanted to say that aloud, but I didn’t want to break the carefully crafted mood he’d set. It was funny how Doms thought they were the ones in control, but it was really the subs. I could still easily walk away right now, take my own wrist restraints off, remove the pearls. That would leave him hanging, throbbing dick in his jeans. Then he’d see who the boss was. I could take femdom to its highest level, leaving him begging for more.

“What are you going to do?” I whispered, faking a layer of fear. Or was it fake?

He slid his palms between my ass and panties. Lord, such a hot, stroking, loving caress. My knee shot up and I locked my shoe behind his knee. I had no idea what he planned, but it was all right with me.

Skimming my undies down my straight leg, Creed’s hot hand described lusty circles on my ass and thigh. “My girl,” he murmured. “You pleasured me the other day. It’s my turn to please you.”

“Oh—” I started to say, delighted. But he shocked me by dropping to his knees, yanking my panties down to the floor, and oh, the heat of his mouth hovering over my muff. Now he was in control! If I had free hands I could’ve shoved his face into my pussy but no, he tantalized, teased, tortured me just with his breath!

“Creed!” I shrieked. “Just do it!” I thrust my hips at him, to no avail.

I felt him smile. His lush mouth smiled against my quivering pussy lips.

And he reached a tongue tip out to lap my clit.

I exploded like a star going supernova.