(c)2013
This is a continuation of Laci & Donovan's story.
It would probably help to first read part one,
PRINCE OF DARKNESS vs PROM QUEEN
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Chapter 1 The Devil Went Down to Georgia
The first wisps of morning light were filtering into the room as Donovan opened his eyes. Turning his head slightly, he saw her sleeping next to him, and with her long blonde hair feathered on the pillow, his mostly dark room was suddenly filled with her special sunshine.
Laci Grace was the most surprising and unique woman he had ever known, which perfectly fit the beginnings of their relationship. The first time he saw her, she didn't speak to him; but rather she watched him, making him feel like he was a laboratory specimen being examined under a microscope. The next time he saw her, he beat her ass with a paddle until it was almost the same color as her cornflower blue eyes, after which, she tried to scratch out his eyes. It was, unquestionably, a unique start to a unique relationship.
A relationship? That was not a word Donovan Corbett used very often. He wasn't sure he'd ever used it in regards to himself. Until he met Laci, he was certain his level of relationships would fall somewhere between a variety of one-night stands and interactions with short term submissives.
Donovan had grown up in an affluent family, as in affluent with a capital 'A'. Between trust funds and inheritances, his family didn't have to work, and so most of them didn't. They were spoiled and sheltered, wasting both time and money on their own personal indulgences. Donovan was equally spoiled and equally wealthy. Correction – he had far more money than most of his relatives because he liked to work. He started his own business right out of college. Another correction – he started two businesses. The first acquired other companies, split them apart, merged them together, then rebuilt them to be bigger and better companies. The second business built his own reputation as a Dominant and Trainer of sex slaves.
It had been during his last year of college, that an acquaintance tempted him to visit a BDSM club. Located in a seedy part of town, it was the last place Donovan wanted to visit and the last activity he ever thought he'd participate in. With the interior decorated in black and gold, the place was a bit run-down, but he was surprised to find himself curiously fascinated. Then the curtain parted.
Donovan wasn't sure if he snapped or soared, but he knew what he was watching was going to have a major impact on his life. He had never been self-reliant in any way. There had never been a reason for anything even approaching self-reliance in his life. Since the day he was born, everything had been done for him. Between housekeepers, caretakers, maids, cooks, butlers, chauffeurs, gardeners, secretaries, stable hands, valets, housemen, personal shoppers, and managers, there was more staff than family occupying his house. He did nothing for himself. He didn't know where most of his belongings were. He wasn't sure he could find his way to the kitchen if he wanted a drink of water. Anything he needed or wanted appeared instantly. He controlled nothing, except telling other people what he wanted and when he wanted it. He probably could have had his own personal ass-wiper if he had demanded it.
He sat at the table that night, watching the happenings on stage, seeing absolute control in its purest form. To the left was a male, who was naked and shackled to a wooden rack. To the right was a naked woman, strapped spread-eagle to some kind of bench. The male was to be whipped for whatever infraction he had committed. The woman was about to be paddled, strapped, then caned for her sins. He expected to be horrified, but realized he was fascinated, finding himself a little perplexed at his own responses.
It wasn't the degree of discipline; it was the reactions of those being disciplined. The male was being whipped raw, his back, ass, and thighs fiery red with welts. And he was enjoying it! Donovan would have whipped him harder just to shut him up and not have to hear the annoying sounds he was making. The woman was entirely different. She was much more fearful, but was also more repentant. Whatever it was she had done, she wasn't going to be doing it again. Donovan had no idea how he knew that, but he did.
The discipline session continued for quite a while. The male was getting off on his whipping, having way too much fun with the entire process. Was this reward or punishment? What was the point of punishment if he was enjoying it so much? The woman was silent, stoic, hardly flinching or making a sound...and in severe pain. Donovan seemed to know instantly when the discipline became too much for her, surprised that it took a couple of minutes longer for those inflicting her punishment to be aware. Luckily they did notice, and stopped, releasing her from her bonds and half carrying her to her Dom or Master. Donovan was relieved to see that whomever it was they brought her to, he appeared to be caring for her. The question in his mind was how had he known what she felt? These people were strangers. Even the guy who coerced him to visit the club was only an acquaintance. What type of instinct made him aware of what others were feeling?
Donovan started leading a double life. By day he was a straight A student in college. By night, he was a watcher and observer in the club. Turned out, he got straight A's there, as well. He listened & learned. His instincts got sharper. Eventually he became acquainted with the owners of the club and started working with them. He laid the foundation for his business life all through college. When he graduated, he made an easy transition from student to corporate mogul. It wasn't long before he also made the transition from observer and employee, to Master and Dominant. Donovan Corbett, who had grown up having everything done for him, suddenly had control in his life and his entire world. Suddenly, he had become 'Master Donovan' in every possible meaning of the title.
His professional career was going strong and getting stronger. He decided to build his personal career by converting part of one of his homes to a training facility for teaching and training sex slaves and submissives. He went through several assistants before finding Victor. Donovan and Victor were yin and yang. Victor could do everything Donovan couldn't. Donovan wasn't completely sure about Victor's background. He knew it was colorful, and had skirted the line between law-abiding and marginally crooked, however, his instincts told him he could trust Victor implicitly, and those instincts were not wrong. Victor was honest. Victor spoke his mind. Victor became confidant, conscience, and friend. Victor was not afraid of Master Donovan. He thought Donovan was a little crazy, but he was definitely not afraid.
Life settled into a comfortable routine. His corporate empire was growing bigger each year. His reputation as a trainer, one who would get excellent and rapid results, was growing as well. Already wealthy, he soon had more money than all his self-indulgent relatives combined, and he didn't care who knew what he did in his training facility. His reputation preceded him and every man and woman he met wanted to know more about the mysterious and enigmatic Donovan Corbett, the man who dismantled companies and trained sex slaves. The more contradictory he appeared, the more interesting he was and the more people wanted to know about him. Other than Victor, he kept everyone at arm's length.
Then came the completely unexpected day Laci Grace blew into his world like a tiny, blonde, blue-eyed, force F4tornado, and his world still had not stopped spinning. Everything about her was different. She was beautiful and smart, curious about anything and everything including his personal and professional lives. She was more self-reliant than anyone he had ever known with the possible exception of Victor. If Laci wanted a drink of water she wouldn't waste her time finding the kitchen. She'd dig a damn well. She could handle a whip, not as an instrument of punishment, but as a weapon. She obviously had been absent from school the day 'submissive' was a vocabulary word since she clearly did not know the meaning of the term. Additionally, she didn't fear him, although he wasn't sure if she feared anyone or anything except loneliness.
He was aware he was being watched. "Good morning," he said.
"It could be better than good," she said with that look in her blue eyes.
It was all he needed to hear. Mornings were hard, hot, and fast. Laci called it 'insta-fuck' time. Within seconds, he had pushed her legs apart and his rock hard cock was buried in her as he plowed balls deep into her always wet pussy. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, trying to pull him in even deeper as her nails dug into his muscular shoulders. A little rough and quick as always, it didn't take long before he was panting, shuddering, and exploding inside her.
When their breathing returned to normal, she looked at him again. "Now it's a good morning."