Black Light: Owned
Excerpt By Renee Rose
Available at: Amazon (and on Kindle Unlimited!)
“Pick up your top and give it to me,” I order.
She leans forward to snatch up her bustier. I pull her back to my lap and put it on for her, tightening the laces and tying them. I leave the plug in her, only because I don’t want everyone watching me take it out. Yeah, it would be humiliating for her—the name of this scene.
But I don’t give a fuck.
I’m not doing it.
“Put your panties back on, blossom,” I murmur to Kayla. We’re suddenly on the same team from my point of view. I’m protecting her from the gawking assholes out there.
Part of me wants to stop and examine that—because I’m sure I’m fucking this up somehow. Forgetting how to dominate her the way I’m supposed to, but I shove the thoughts away.
Kayla obeys and slips on the panties. The plug doesn’t show through the heart-shaped cutout in the back of her panties. I give it a pat to show my ownership and lead her back toward the theater. She toddles on her heels. I saw her rocking them when she arrived, so I’m guessing it’s because that orgasm just blew her mind. Her legs are probably made of rubber right now. Hell, I’ve got a little of that going on myself.
I lead her to the bar and order two bottles of water and a dish of nuts. I figure she needs to recharge if we’re going to make it two more rounds. We both do.
I pull out a barstool for her and help her onto it, loving the ginger way she sits to accommodate the plug. She drinks down half her water at once and takes a big handful of nuts.
She shoots me a glance under her lashes. “Am I allowed to talk?”
“Yes. If you’re not too annoying.”
Rather than take offense, I see a dimple flash. “I’ll try not to be. Thank you for the nuts. I was starving. Sasha and I didn’t have time to grab dinner.”
It’s already more of a conversation than I wanted to have with her, so I simply incline my head.
“Am I annoying you yet?”
My lips twitch. Fuck, she’s cute. “Yes.”
Her gaze drops. “Sorry.” She scoops another handful of nuts and pours them in her mouth. For some reason, I find myself fascinated by her lips as she eats. The light dusting of salt that coats them makes me want to lick them. But that doesn’t make sense because I never kiss my play partners.
Of course, that thought leads to the image of me pushing her up against a wall and owning that expressive mouth of hers. Shutting her up with my tongue, biting that lower lip.
“Why were you late?” I surprise myself by speaking.
She darts a glance my way, apparently as surprised as I am. “I had a gig all day. It took them like one hundred and forty takes to film a sixty second commercial.”
I don’t want to be interested, but I’m suddenly invested in her story.
“You’re an actress? Like Sasha.”
“Yes. We went to USC together for theatre. We roomed together for three years.”
It’s almost painful to think of this delicate, wholesome little creature as a happy-go-lucky college student, hopeful and eager to find some bit part in the school play. It reinforces my belief that she doesn’t belong here. Certainly not to be tortured by me.
She makes me feel dirty and mean. Except the memory of her coming just from sucking my dick comes flooding back. The flush of her cheeks, the glassiness of her eyes, and the way they flickered back in her head. She’d been drunk with lust.
Not quite so wholesome.
Fuck, it would be so easy for some Hollywood director to take advantage of her—to discover her kinky little heart and use it for his petty pleasure without giving her the respect she deserves. I fist my water bottle, making it crack and crackle.
Her eyes widen as she looks at it.
“I want to see your commercial,” I find myself saying.
“Oh.” She blushes. “I... it wasn’t my commercial. I was just in the background dancing for the whole thing. It was supposed to be at a nightclub. The commercial is for an energy drink.”
Now I’m pissed that they didn’t make her the star. Why the fuck wouldn’t they? She’s hot as hell. I can’t imagine another actress would do better.
“Come on,” I bark as soon as she finishes the nuts and water. She shoots me a nervous look and practically launches herself off the barstool. So damn compliant. I want to collar her and put her on a leash. Keep her at my feet to suck my dick off the way she did every time I get horny.
I’m a twisted fuck.
We go back up on stage, and Kayla steps forward to spin the wheel. I press myself behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her ass back against my lap and put pressure on the plug. Her belly shudders on her next breath. She tosses the ball into the wheel, and it bounces around.
“Kiki and Master Pavel landed on anal,” the emcee announces.
Boring.
Still behind her, I wrap my fingers around her throat, squeezing her breast with my other hand. “My dick in your ass tonight was a given, blossom. We’ll see if we can make it more interesting. I think I’ll stripe that ass first, hmm? Are you sore from your last spanking?”
“No, Master.” Her voice is soft and warm. Not what I expect. I thought she’d be a fucking baby about getting her ass whipped again. My cock lengthens in my pants.
“Let’s go, printsessa.” I lead her off the stage and all the way through the play area into the medieval torture room, which I’m glad to find empty.
I stop her by one of the spanking benches in the room. “Panties off,” I order.
She drops her head and steps out of her panties, balling them up in one hand, like she doesn’t know what to do with them. I take them from her and tuck them in my pocket. I look her over, critically. “Take off those stockings, too,” I say. “I want to whip the backs of your thighs as well.”
I’m delighted to watch the shiver run through her. She steps out of her high heels and peels off the stockings. When she does, I notice her feet have angry red marks from her shoes.
I shove my hands in my pockets, considering them. “Are your feet sore, blossom?”
“Oh.” She looks down. “I-I’ve been in heels all day, Master.”
“But you still wore them tonight? For me?” No, of course not for me. My dick is taking over my brain. She didn’t even know she’d be paired with me tonight.
But she says in that same honey-soft voice, “Yes, Master.”
Fuck.
I’m torn between rewarding her for her sacrifice and inflicting more pain.
“You look fucking gorgeous in those heels,” I say gruffly. It’s true. She has lean, muscular legs—like a ballerina—and the heels make them look like works of art.
Her gaze flies to my face, searching. “Um, thank you.”
“I know they hurt, but I want you to put them back on.”
She immediately steps back into them.
I step into her space and cup her mons, reaching around to twist the plug in her ass at the same time. “Does it make you wet to know your pain gives me pleasure?” I stroke along her slit, which instantly produces nectar.
“Yes, Master.”
Fuck, she’s sweet.
“Good girl. I’m going to hurt you some more. Not because you’re bad.” I sink a finger inside her and she squirms, her expression turning needy. “But because I want to. You understand, don’t you?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes, Master.”
“I thought you did. You don’t like to be a bad girl, do you?”
A quick shake of her head. “No, Master.”
“I didn’t think so. You’re a pleaser. A service submissive.”
Her expression brightens. Like she’s being seen for the first time in her life. “Yes, Master.”
I screw the plug around in her ass. “Every time you say yes Master in that soft, silky voice, I get hard, blossom.”
She practically glows with the compliment.
“Now kneel and bend over.” I slip my finger out of her and use the anal plug to guide her to the spanking bench.
She drops to her knees and folds her torso down over the padded bench. I buckle her ankles and wrists. I’m feeling cruel. Maybe I resent my little blossom for being so damn agreeable. She’s hard to dislike, and I wanted to hate her. Women like her aren’t for men like me. I’m the kind who lurks in shadows. My sins marked clearly in ink all over my skin. A Russian soldier who killed, first for his country and later for his bratva cell. I’m nothing of worth, and this girl? She’s golden.
She’s young, talented, sweet. Smart and agreeable. She’s definitely going places. The monster in me wants to break her for it, but I also want to kill anyone else who might think of breaking her.
I pull out a rattan cane and slap it into my palm. It bites, even without a lot of force. My blossom won’t be ready for something like this, and yet, I’m compelled to use it on her. To crush those petals of hers and make sure she never comes back here again, where it’s not safe for a sweet, aching flower like her.
I step forward and diddle the plug in her ass. She moans and sways her hips. I tap her buttocks lightly with the cane. “I’m going to stripe your little ass now, blossom.”
She whimpers slightly. The muscles of her lower back bunch up in preparation for the first strike. I swing the cane, aiming and striking right across the center of her buttocks.
She lets out what sounds like an involuntary shout then a long, long warble of recovery.
I strike again, just below the first one.
She shrieks, her body instantly going into flight mode as she struggles against her bonds. “Master?” There’s panic in her voice. I rub between her legs to see how the pain landed this time. She’s soaked with fresh lubricant—apparently just as turned on despite the intensity.
I want to whip her mercilessly until she screams and cries red, and I can be sure she’ll never come here again. But something in her plea tugs at me. Forces my restraint.
I walk around to the front of the spanking bench and crouch down. I push her hair back from her face to look her in the eye.
“Yes, blossom?”
Her breath is chaotic, her eyes dilated, glassy and wild. Her lips are parted, but no words come out.
I stroke my thumb across her cheek. It’s baby-soft and smooth. “You look frightened. Are you scared?”
“A little,” she admits.
“Okay. I will tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to give you three more stripes with my cane. You can scream as loud as you want. Cry if you need to. But you’re going to be a good girl and take it because you know it pleases me to hurt you.
“When it’s done, I will put arnica on it to help with bruising. And then I’m going to take that plug out of your ass and fuck it with my cock. I’ll use a condom to keep us both safe. Yeah?”
She bobs her head, endlessly agreeable. “Okay.” She licks her lips.
“Thank you, Master.
My erection surges against my zipper. She’s thanking me. She really couldn’t be more perfect.
I cup her cheek, suddenly reluctant to do what I just promised. “You’re doing so well tonight.”
She nuzzles into my hand. “Master Pavel?” Again, the frightened warble in her voice.
“Hm?”
“I might not make it.” She blinks rapidly. “What if I can’t make it through the night without saying red?”
I’m such an asshole for wishing that. The biggest dick alive.
“You’ll make it,” I promise. “It’s my job to make sure you do, blossom.” Steel barriers in my chest bend and warp in different directions. I both want to keep my promise to her and break it to make sure she can’t return. Not without me.
What am I thinking? I won’t come back here again. I don’t even live in L.A. And I certainly wouldn’t come back to play with her. She’s the last person I’d want to partner with again.
Except as I flip through the half-dozen partners I had in Chicago over the last year, I see the energy between us was about as flat and dry as paper. It’s nothing like partnering with Kayla—this beautiful shining light. Do I want to go back to my old type? I suddenly don’t.
What’s wrong with me? I’m getting attached, and that’s against the bratva code. Not that my cell enforces those old country rules. Still, even if I wanted her, I couldn’t have her. She’s all wrong for me. And I’m definitely wrong for her.
I hold her gaze as I roll up my sleeves. “Now I’m going to hurt you, blossom. And you’ll like it because I do.”
She leans forward to snatch up her bustier. I pull her back to my lap and put it on for her, tightening the laces and tying them. I leave the plug in her, only because I don’t want everyone watching me take it out. Yeah, it would be humiliating for her—the name of this scene.
But I don’t give a fuck.
I’m not doing it.
“Put your panties back on, blossom,” I murmur to Kayla. We’re suddenly on the same team from my point of view. I’m protecting her from the gawking assholes out there.
Part of me wants to stop and examine that—because I’m sure I’m fucking this up somehow. Forgetting how to dominate her the way I’m supposed to, but I shove the thoughts away.
Kayla obeys and slips on the panties. The plug doesn’t show through the heart-shaped cutout in the back of her panties. I give it a pat to show my ownership and lead her back toward the theater. She toddles on her heels. I saw her rocking them when she arrived, so I’m guessing it’s because that orgasm just blew her mind. Her legs are probably made of rubber right now. Hell, I’ve got a little of that going on myself.
I lead her to the bar and order two bottles of water and a dish of nuts. I figure she needs to recharge if we’re going to make it two more rounds. We both do.
I pull out a barstool for her and help her onto it, loving the ginger way she sits to accommodate the plug. She drinks down half her water at once and takes a big handful of nuts.
She shoots me a glance under her lashes. “Am I allowed to talk?”
“Yes. If you’re not too annoying.”
Rather than take offense, I see a dimple flash. “I’ll try not to be. Thank you for the nuts. I was starving. Sasha and I didn’t have time to grab dinner.”
It’s already more of a conversation than I wanted to have with her, so I simply incline my head.
“Am I annoying you yet?”
My lips twitch. Fuck, she’s cute. “Yes.”
Her gaze drops. “Sorry.” She scoops another handful of nuts and pours them in her mouth. For some reason, I find myself fascinated by her lips as she eats. The light dusting of salt that coats them makes me want to lick them. But that doesn’t make sense because I never kiss my play partners.
Of course, that thought leads to the image of me pushing her up against a wall and owning that expressive mouth of hers. Shutting her up with my tongue, biting that lower lip.
“Why were you late?” I surprise myself by speaking.
She darts a glance my way, apparently as surprised as I am. “I had a gig all day. It took them like one hundred and forty takes to film a sixty second commercial.”
I don’t want to be interested, but I’m suddenly invested in her story.
“You’re an actress? Like Sasha.”
“Yes. We went to USC together for theatre. We roomed together for three years.”
It’s almost painful to think of this delicate, wholesome little creature as a happy-go-lucky college student, hopeful and eager to find some bit part in the school play. It reinforces my belief that she doesn’t belong here. Certainly not to be tortured by me.
She makes me feel dirty and mean. Except the memory of her coming just from sucking my dick comes flooding back. The flush of her cheeks, the glassiness of her eyes, and the way they flickered back in her head. She’d been drunk with lust.
Not quite so wholesome.
Fuck, it would be so easy for some Hollywood director to take advantage of her—to discover her kinky little heart and use it for his petty pleasure without giving her the respect she deserves. I fist my water bottle, making it crack and crackle.
Her eyes widen as she looks at it.
“I want to see your commercial,” I find myself saying.
“Oh.” She blushes. “I... it wasn’t my commercial. I was just in the background dancing for the whole thing. It was supposed to be at a nightclub. The commercial is for an energy drink.”
Now I’m pissed that they didn’t make her the star. Why the fuck wouldn’t they? She’s hot as hell. I can’t imagine another actress would do better.
“Come on,” I bark as soon as she finishes the nuts and water. She shoots me a nervous look and practically launches herself off the barstool. So damn compliant. I want to collar her and put her on a leash. Keep her at my feet to suck my dick off the way she did every time I get horny.
I’m a twisted fuck.
We go back up on stage, and Kayla steps forward to spin the wheel. I press myself behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her ass back against my lap and put pressure on the plug. Her belly shudders on her next breath. She tosses the ball into the wheel, and it bounces around.
“Kiki and Master Pavel landed on anal,” the emcee announces.
Boring.
Still behind her, I wrap my fingers around her throat, squeezing her breast with my other hand. “My dick in your ass tonight was a given, blossom. We’ll see if we can make it more interesting. I think I’ll stripe that ass first, hmm? Are you sore from your last spanking?”
“No, Master.” Her voice is soft and warm. Not what I expect. I thought she’d be a fucking baby about getting her ass whipped again. My cock lengthens in my pants.
“Let’s go, printsessa.” I lead her off the stage and all the way through the play area into the medieval torture room, which I’m glad to find empty.
I stop her by one of the spanking benches in the room. “Panties off,” I order.
She drops her head and steps out of her panties, balling them up in one hand, like she doesn’t know what to do with them. I take them from her and tuck them in my pocket. I look her over, critically. “Take off those stockings, too,” I say. “I want to whip the backs of your thighs as well.”
I’m delighted to watch the shiver run through her. She steps out of her high heels and peels off the stockings. When she does, I notice her feet have angry red marks from her shoes.
I shove my hands in my pockets, considering them. “Are your feet sore, blossom?”
“Oh.” She looks down. “I-I’ve been in heels all day, Master.”
“But you still wore them tonight? For me?” No, of course not for me. My dick is taking over my brain. She didn’t even know she’d be paired with me tonight.
But she says in that same honey-soft voice, “Yes, Master.”
Fuck.
I’m torn between rewarding her for her sacrifice and inflicting more pain.
“You look fucking gorgeous in those heels,” I say gruffly. It’s true. She has lean, muscular legs—like a ballerina—and the heels make them look like works of art.
Her gaze flies to my face, searching. “Um, thank you.”
“I know they hurt, but I want you to put them back on.”
She immediately steps back into them.
I step into her space and cup her mons, reaching around to twist the plug in her ass at the same time. “Does it make you wet to know your pain gives me pleasure?” I stroke along her slit, which instantly produces nectar.
“Yes, Master.”
Fuck, she’s sweet.
“Good girl. I’m going to hurt you some more. Not because you’re bad.” I sink a finger inside her and she squirms, her expression turning needy. “But because I want to. You understand, don’t you?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes, Master.”
“I thought you did. You don’t like to be a bad girl, do you?”
A quick shake of her head. “No, Master.”
“I didn’t think so. You’re a pleaser. A service submissive.”
Her expression brightens. Like she’s being seen for the first time in her life. “Yes, Master.”
I screw the plug around in her ass. “Every time you say yes Master in that soft, silky voice, I get hard, blossom.”
She practically glows with the compliment.
“Now kneel and bend over.” I slip my finger out of her and use the anal plug to guide her to the spanking bench.
She drops to her knees and folds her torso down over the padded bench. I buckle her ankles and wrists. I’m feeling cruel. Maybe I resent my little blossom for being so damn agreeable. She’s hard to dislike, and I wanted to hate her. Women like her aren’t for men like me. I’m the kind who lurks in shadows. My sins marked clearly in ink all over my skin. A Russian soldier who killed, first for his country and later for his bratva cell. I’m nothing of worth, and this girl? She’s golden.
She’s young, talented, sweet. Smart and agreeable. She’s definitely going places. The monster in me wants to break her for it, but I also want to kill anyone else who might think of breaking her.
I pull out a rattan cane and slap it into my palm. It bites, even without a lot of force. My blossom won’t be ready for something like this, and yet, I’m compelled to use it on her. To crush those petals of hers and make sure she never comes back here again, where it’s not safe for a sweet, aching flower like her.
I step forward and diddle the plug in her ass. She moans and sways her hips. I tap her buttocks lightly with the cane. “I’m going to stripe your little ass now, blossom.”
She whimpers slightly. The muscles of her lower back bunch up in preparation for the first strike. I swing the cane, aiming and striking right across the center of her buttocks.
She lets out what sounds like an involuntary shout then a long, long warble of recovery.
I strike again, just below the first one.
She shrieks, her body instantly going into flight mode as she struggles against her bonds. “Master?” There’s panic in her voice. I rub between her legs to see how the pain landed this time. She’s soaked with fresh lubricant—apparently just as turned on despite the intensity.
I want to whip her mercilessly until she screams and cries red, and I can be sure she’ll never come here again. But something in her plea tugs at me. Forces my restraint.
I walk around to the front of the spanking bench and crouch down. I push her hair back from her face to look her in the eye.
“Yes, blossom?”
Her breath is chaotic, her eyes dilated, glassy and wild. Her lips are parted, but no words come out.
I stroke my thumb across her cheek. It’s baby-soft and smooth. “You look frightened. Are you scared?”
“A little,” she admits.
“Okay. I will tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to give you three more stripes with my cane. You can scream as loud as you want. Cry if you need to. But you’re going to be a good girl and take it because you know it pleases me to hurt you.
“When it’s done, I will put arnica on it to help with bruising. And then I’m going to take that plug out of your ass and fuck it with my cock. I’ll use a condom to keep us both safe. Yeah?”
She bobs her head, endlessly agreeable. “Okay.” She licks her lips.
“Thank you, Master.
My erection surges against my zipper. She’s thanking me. She really couldn’t be more perfect.
I cup her cheek, suddenly reluctant to do what I just promised. “You’re doing so well tonight.”
She nuzzles into my hand. “Master Pavel?” Again, the frightened warble in her voice.
“Hm?”
“I might not make it.” She blinks rapidly. “What if I can’t make it through the night without saying red?”
I’m such an asshole for wishing that. The biggest dick alive.
“You’ll make it,” I promise. “It’s my job to make sure you do, blossom.” Steel barriers in my chest bend and warp in different directions. I both want to keep my promise to her and break it to make sure she can’t return. Not without me.
What am I thinking? I won’t come back here again. I don’t even live in L.A. And I certainly wouldn’t come back to play with her. She’s the last person I’d want to partner with again.
Except as I flip through the half-dozen partners I had in Chicago over the last year, I see the energy between us was about as flat and dry as paper. It’s nothing like partnering with Kayla—this beautiful shining light. Do I want to go back to my old type? I suddenly don’t.
What’s wrong with me? I’m getting attached, and that’s against the bratva code. Not that my cell enforces those old country rules. Still, even if I wanted her, I couldn’t have her. She’s all wrong for me. And I’m definitely wrong for her.
I hold her gaze as I roll up my sleeves. “Now I’m going to hurt you, blossom. And you’ll like it because I do.”