The Right Thing Read online

  “Do your worst, Joyce.” The triumph in Joyce’s eyes was quickly masked and he didn’t know how to take the agreement back without looking weak. Fucking idiot.

  Joyce and Andrew dragged a lounge pad to two posts cemented into the patio and McKenzie was instructed to kneel between them. Michael took scant comfort in recalling how he had helped his sub up to make her way to those two posts, rubbing the life back into her stretched limbs. But he didn’t remove the clamps. Feeling a bite of misdirected anger at being outmanoeuvred by Joyce meant taking it out on his woman. McKenzie leaned into him as he escorted her, and Michael hoped in retrospect he again loaned her his strength because he didn’t do anything to mitigate McKenzie’s anxiety in any other manner.

  Andrew secured her wrists to those posts and Joyce yanked the pad back until McKenzie was stretched out like a fine elastic band, legs spread wide. Andrew stepped between the posts and leisurely tapped his latex covered cock against her lips. The other man was short and enormously broad, nothing like his twin, his cock a stubby projection of a club. Michael winced at the width of the shaft then realized it was the distraction Joyce had planned. She’d strapped a huge dildo around her waist. It glistened with oil, and the spiky protuberances decorating its surface every inch or so looked lethal.

  “Not her ass, Joyce.” Joyce pouted but shrugged, then opened her hand. A sprig of ginger reposed on her palm. She arched one perfectly plucked brow and he nodded. McKenzie was in for quite a ride, and the bite of pain never failed to arouse her.

  Joyce knelt between McKenzie’s spread thighs and spread her ass cheeks to insert the ginger, twisting and twirling the spice to maximize the effect. McKenzie moaned and her buttocks pushed back. Joyce teased McKenzie’s folds with the toy and then drove up inside her pussy with sureness and accuracy. His woman cried out at the invasion and Andrew shoved his cock into her gaping mouth, right to the hilt. Michael could only imagine the stretching and the drag against McKenzie’s tender tissues, the torment of her G-spot. The other revellers gathered around to watch the proceedings and he heard both murmurs of excitement and a few of concern. Joyce fucked McKenzie relentlessly, powering in and out, driving McKenzie’s little form forward onto Andrew’s cock and Michael could hear his sub’s strangled cries even over the slapping sounds of Joyce’s scrawny belly against McKenzie’s ass.

  Michael stepped forward to intervene when Andrew’s face twisted with pleasure, pulling out to strip the condom and come all over McKenzie’s hair, face and breasts, effectively marking and humiliating her in front of an audience. Joyce motioned to Andrew who unfastened the wrist binds. McKenzie collapsed and Joyce released the strap on, using the strength of wiry arms to roll Mckenzie over, leaving the toy in place. It protruded from McKenzie’s tiny pussy like a grotesque parody of manhood, dripping with lube and his woman’s juices. Joyce knelt over McKenzie’s face and lowered herself, grabbing a dam as she did so. Michael heard Joyce tell his sub to make it fast or she’d suffocate her and then he did intervene, shoving Andrew away as the other man reached for the dildo, clearly intending to work McKenzie over with it again.

  Joyce was a little harder to dissuade, and screeched in outrage when Michael tipped her forward, hauling McKenzie up into his arms, his sub’s face blank, eyes dazed. No matter all the earlier orgasms, they hadn’t served to carry her through the tag teaming. He squelched his guilt and concern behind the premise of aftercare and carried McKenzie inside to remove the ginger and the dildo, and bathe her. Fucking Joyce used ginger lubricant on the dildo as well and the burning sensations made McKenzie writhe and whimper. He climbed into the tub with his sub and fucked her, first pussy then ass, his cock suffering the burn right along with her. His first taste of shared pain and a hint of who he’d become. A man in love, regretting massive stupidity on his part. Not a wealthy, entitled sadist, but a man in love with a woman who was in service to him. A woman who was masochistic yes, but a woman he didn’t deserve, who deserved the very best care and domination. That was the signal for all his defences to start crumbling down as Michael fought a rearguard action, refusing to surrender.

  * * * *

  Michael lay in McKenzie’s bed every night and thought about how he’d met and taken on the challenge that was McKenzie. He hadn’t even realized he was looking for one at the time.

  It was fifteen months earlier. He was bored. Elspeth, his current sub, was making those noises and acting in those little ways that told him she needed to move on. Elspeth hadn’t stayed very long, maybe four months, and while gorgeous and an accomplished submissive, it was all about her in the end and Michael wanted it to be about him. He was one selfish guy, and knew that, but didn’t see any particular problem at the time. In one aborted session with a shrink he heard things like benign neglect, the burden of self at such an early age, formative needs not met and other such shit. He’d tuned out the way he had because was really quite self-aware. So he hadn’t been mothered or parented or whatever, and scrambled up pretty much on his own without guidance or love or discipline, and had everything handed to him that he wanted. Except he didn’t get what kids really needed. Poor little rich boy.

  And thus he required total control in everything, no, craved control, desperately needed to fill up his empty, unloved self. Because he didn’t trust anyone to offer it to him otherwise, let alone provide it. The kink, the need to inflict pain—erotic pain if one wanted to be PC and fancy things up a little—totally fit the bill, and finding so many women who wanted to fulfill and be the recipient of his needs was just the icing on the cake. His wealth didn’t hurt either in attracting so many. He had embraced the training and excelled at it, even as he interpreted the rules to suit himself.

  Michael cut a freaking wide swath until deciding to have a sub move in with him so he would always have someone available, someone to take with him on business trips, on vacations, to parties, to host parties—even the vanilla ones. This saved time and the hassle of shopping for a sub at the clubs, or god forbid, dating, and was a win-win situation. He interviewed women and checked them out to see if they met his specifications. If they did, and were interested, they signed a contract, moved in and were in his service until they requested release or he released them. If the life was slightly artificial and lacking in any real emotional component then it was no more than anyone could expect of a neglected, needy, burdened control freak sadist. So Elspeth moved on and Michael needed to find him another pain slut, a cum bucket but never a soul mate. Being so busy trying to fill the empty vessel that was his soul, he never looked at the man he had become. He hadn’t known any different until McKenzie.

  Trolling the clubs didn’t prove fruitful, and he became impatient and starved for sex and the opportunity to inflict some hurt in the process of arousing a woman and meeting his own perverted needs. Rory, his best vanilla friend, mentioned his girlfriend’s roommate in passing, literally a tidbit in the conversation over a late meal. Rory’s girlfriend Alexandria was one of those people who saw the good in everyone and had been training as a social worker, much to the consternation of wealthy parents. But they envisioned their child going overseas as an aid worker or something if they interfered, and hoped social work would at least keep her home. Alex lived on campus to immerse herself in the experience and her assigned roommate, also in human services training, was there on a scholarship.

  Rory was looking for somebody to double date with them because Alexandria had it in her head the roommate needed to have a social life. Rory and Alex accepted Michael and didn’t pay much attention to his issues or cut him much slack because he was rich. In retrospect, Michael supposed he was seeking, in a very small way, to become a better person by dint of hanging with them. He and Rory attended the same ivy league schools and moved in the same circles, though Rory didn’t subscribe to the same sexual practices. They got along well making Michael wonder why he didn’t spend more time with him. The answer was clear now. He resisted frequent contact with good people, people with different values and comp
onents of kindness. That kind of thing felt foreign and uncomfortable until McKenzie ripped the blinders off.

  Michael found it amusing to agree to a double date, bored and at loose ends, and the gods must have been howling and rolling around in bouts of considerable mirth, because he laid eyes on McKenzie and wanted her instantly. And decided to have her. Alexandria was still upset with him to this day over that, claiming he’d robbed the world of a burgeoning saint in the profession. He expected Alex to cut his balls off when she heard McKenzie left, that he’d driven her away, but instead Alex rallied for him and used her contacts in the community to support the search. Alex held his hand too when he drank himself into a crying jag and never breathed a word to anyone. Maybe if Alex had been his shrink he wouldn’t be as fucked up and wouldn’t have fucked McKenzie over. Fucking hindsight. Fucking insight.

  McKenzie had been wearing a little black dress and black knee high boots when introduced, glorious dark hair bound in a long plait trailing down her back, right to the waist. She’d tried to dress up for the occasion but all Michael could think about was how to dress McKenzie in something more her. He also wanted her in no clothes at all while at home with him, except maybe corsets and fishnets. Michael wanted to ride her and use that tail of hair as a bridle. McKenzie’s incredible blue eyes caught all available light, set widely above a straight little nose, beneath sooty brows. Her mouth was a veritable Cupid’s bow. He didn’t know what she thought when first laying eyes on him, but perhaps some atavistic response awoke deep within her, prey recognizing predator, because he distinctly saw McKenzie shiver and her pupils dilate. The pulse in the base of her neck fluttered wildly and he’d watched her struggle to take a breath. Honestly, Michael’s state of mind and body wasn’t so very different from hers, but he had more experience and control, better managing to hide the reaction.

  Michael never thought to take and train a submissive. He thought he was too lazy. But McKenzie changed all of that. He used his considerable charm and his cutthroat skills to hone in on McKenzie’s every weakness and insecurity and seduced her.

  It took a few vanilla dates and some equally vanilla sex to lay his claim so to speak, and then Michael moved in for the kill. McKenzie was a natural born submissive. Undiscovered and his to train, tweak, and convert to his service. She needed someone to take charge and rule her life. That was painfully obvious, given her history and her choice of profession. McKenzie was a true caregiver and would have worked herself to death helping others. Michael wanted her to help him, dreaming of all the sexual ways she could do so, never thinking she’d reach him on a very different level. He decided to unleash McKenzie’s sexuality and make it okay for her to want what she needed, although yet unaware and innocent. But he knew.

  McKenzie struggled to manage her life even as she seemed to know what others needed. Iintuitive that way, and so had chosen social work to advocate for others and perhaps even help herself. But it was a huge burden, and she welcomed his ability to take over. His sub was as wonderfully twisted and perverted as him, but smarter because she recognized what they had between them long before Michael did. And he pushed it all away.

  Before he could slip into despondency again Michael trotted out some of his happiest, hottest memories. He skipped over the first few times together. They were sweet and would probably make great stories for their kids or grandchildren, but he wasn’t into sweet. Nope, he wanted to remember and relive the first time McKenzie let him put her into bondage. He was still a pervert even if he loved her to death.

  Michael taught McKenzie how to kneel and present herself, where to cast her eyes, depending on the situation. She loved to take instruction, and being told and controlled made her hot, just as carefully administered pain did.

  McKenzie was less than confident about her body. Breasts too small, ass too big, the whole happy horseshit of every modern woman. He thought she was perfect. And if he restricted her junk food caloric intake sometimes, it was because he could and he did so to remind his sub who was in charge. And show her he was concerned about her health, incidentally.

  McKenzie had the biggest, plum colored aureoles. They dwarfed her little round breasts and were positively juicy. When erect, the red nipples were long, almost finger length and perfect for clamping. He was obsessed with those breasts.

  Her ass was a work of art, high, fleshy and heart shaped, a fine handful for such a slender woman. That ass was his canvas, a work of art in the making, in the taking. His marks would fade and heal and he could draw a different picture and pattern time and time again. McKenzie’s full thighs curved around a tiny, flavorful cunt, initially hidden by a thatch of black, silky curls. Michael had that cunt waxed, assisting in the procedure himself, reveling in her shrieks of pain, knowing she was complying only for him. Sometimes he would wait for the hair to grow in a little to repeat the process, clamping her clit and using a vibe on it while the waxer stripped her. McKenzie flowed like a river when he did that and he’d fuck her tender folds until she came again and again, calling out for him, her Master.

  Theirs was truly a relationship of twisted need, but it worked, and damned if Michael would let anyone judge them. He protected McKenzie from any hint of censure, even if he hadn’t protected her from himself. They hung with people like them, but also with vanilla individuals, and no one was allowed to disrespect his woman for her choices. He supposed that was yet another sign of his infatuation but he failed to take the hint. Arrogance had a price, one McKenzie paid.

  Michael led her into his bedroom that first real time, leaving all the lights on, rather than the romantic lighting on the occasions he’d seduced her vanilla fashion. Giving her time to look around and take in the implications of what she saw. The room must have looked very different. The eyelets screwed into the four-poster bed gleamed dully and the restraints no longer reposed under the mattress. The bed was stripped and ready for action, and a variety of toys graced the bedside table, right alongside the lube and condoms. McKenzie dutifully read the various materials he selected for her to gain an understanding of BDSM and TPE, but theory is always different than the practice. Michael suspected his woman tackled it in the same manner utilized in her studies and hadn’t thought about the field work. She froze in place and trembled in her shoes and he damn near came in his pants. Show time.

  “Remove your clothes, sweetheart.”

  When she hesitated, Michael gave her the flat of his hand on her ass, and McKenzie cringed away as it made contact. “Now, sub. I tell you and you do it without question.”

  McKenzie stripped as fast as her shaking hands would allow and immediately knelt before him. Michael remembered how proud he was of her and how his heart hitched in his chest. Not that he allowed that reaction to show, telling himself he expected the correct response and she didn’t need a reward. Enough he willed it and McKenzie did it for him, to please her Master. That’s where she would get her gratification. He thought to teach his woman how he liked his blowjobs that night, just to take the edge off. Bondage really got him going, almost as much as erotically torturing a sub, and Michael wanted to be sure he would last when he took her later.

  “Take me out.”

  Unzipping his pants, McKenzie eased the sections of material apart, pulling it down over his hips to free his hard cock. The tentative touch of her small hands with the calloused first and second fingertips nearly undid him and he snapped directions at her to cover his reaction. “Put me in your mouth, just the cockhead and place your hands on your thighs. Leave them there. Eyes on me.”

  Michael thought of dentist drills and ice water. He bit the inside of his cheek when McKenzie tucked him just inside her mouth, opening wide to accommodate him, those sweet lips closing in a perfect circle. Her eyes widened and he felt the tentative flicker of her tongue. Grabbing McKenzie’s long braid, part of his fantasy, he yanked her head forward to distract him from the innocence. His cock slid deeper and she gagged. He held her in place and ignored her discomfort. “Relax and don’t fight
me. Breathe through your nose.”

  McKenzie struggled and moaned and Michael gave up the fight, pumping twice and flooding down her throat. She choked and gasped but swallowed him down and one hand crept up surreptitiously to wipe her eyes. Never before had he lost control like that and the need to punish her for that loss was so strong he shook with it. Dragging her upwards by her hair, he fairly threw her onto the bed where she bounced and shrieked in shock. He was on his sub like a blanket, pinning her with his weight, careless of her comfort. He fixed her with a glare. “Good girls do what they’re told. Or they get punished.”

  The scent of her arousal absolutely permeated the room, a mixture of tart and sweet, a hint of musk, and it again stripped his control. He flipped Mckenzie onto her belly and had her tied down, hips raised on a pillow in what felt like a blink of an eye. But then he’d had a lot of practice. He could hardly wait until she put herself into position when he demanded she do so. It was a special effort for a sub to ready herself for punishment, all too easy for one to be forced into position because then they could blame the Dom. No, Michael insisted they take that responsibility themselves. It made submission so much sweeter.

  “Do I get a safe word?”

  Michael was flummoxed. McKenzie had picked that up in her reading. He didn’t want her to have a safe word. He wanted her to trust him to know how far he could push and punish her. But it was too soon to ask, so instead he breathed through the disappointment and told her to choose.