I
"Please," he whispers. "Anything."
She stands in front of him. Naked. Her body covered in sweat. Her breast are firm and golden; nipples alive with energy. Skin an indescribable shade of amber. Hair long and dark, like the eyes of a raven. Her slender fingers caress her pussy, enticing him to come closer. "Lick it," a whisper. An order.
He hugs her knees, begging for the mercy that he so does not deserve. Her scent -- honey, musk, defiance -- tugging at him. He buries his face in the moisture of her cunt. She presses his face deeper, past a forest of hair and into the heat of her excitement. His tongue darts, searching for a response; a small bit of sensitive flesh that would fire a current of electricity.
When his tongue passes her outer-lips (tremors of desire through his cock), her clit almost bursts from its hood; it meets tongue and sparks dance through her body. Her back arches; lips murmuring his new name.
He licks around her clit, teasing it with light strokes. When her legs spread a bit wider, his finger enters her; hips moving slightly, searching for more than only a finger. A growl, hungry and impatient, floats from her lips.
"Say it," she whispers, forcing the syllables to be formed. "To punish. Ask me."
"Yes. Mistress, punish me." Eyes closed, his hand stroking his erection as she pushes him to the carpeted floor. "Give."
His hand pushed away; her mouth on his cock. Tongue swirls around the glans, tasting salty skin. Engorged cock growing larger with each moan; pressure building, wanting to fill her lips with heat.
Her head moves up and down, sometimes hovering, forcing him to arch his back to stay between her lips. Her teeth glide, slightly squeezing him; tendons in his neck aching. She reaches to her left, under the bed. A long, shiny vibrator. As big as his own penis. She presses it against the crack of his ass, gently probing deeper near his anus.
He tries to pull back; muscular thighs working uselessly, powerful shoulders unable to crawl away. She grips his testicles. "Always bad," she says. "Always punished."
The vibrator hums; she pumps him in tandem as she pushes it deep into his anus. Light droplets of blood from a deformed muscle cover her hands; it goes in deep. His gasps deafening when his cock explodes in her mouth, filling her with his come as she fills him (in and out, in and out) with her glistening toy.
On the floor. He sleeps. Body twisted slightly, satisfied in the stretching it received.
On the bed. She lets his come run down her chin as she caresses her clit. Another vibrator; amber like her. She moves it in and out of her pussy, letting it rest near her clit. She thrusts her hips, pinches her nipples; it hums. Pulsing inside her, through her. Visions of bodies caught in secret games; desire for a woman and a man, like before. Her legs draw close, holding it inside; she finds her clitoris, sensitive, burning her in spasms of ecstasy. Her touch breaches her sensitivity. A final contraction of her whole and her hole; she will indeed sleep well tonight.
II
Mallory pulls her hair tight in a ponytail. He stays for breakfast. Coffee. Bagel.
"Last night was incredible," he says. Moving around her, unable to sit or stand quite straight. "Can I see you tonight? To talk. I want to know you."
Mallory's power. They would never know her. She knows them; men of power that she controls. An intelligence that makes her what she is; makes her see them as they truly are. She stands as their equal in sunlight. Her power is in moonlight. Her name carries wealth and reputation; her body and vision give her power.
Mallory's eyes shimmer. "Not tonight. I'm meeting a friend for dinner. But at the meeting for the Rolston project, next week, maybe. We'll see."
He smiles. Eyes glazed as memories of last night haunt him.
"Goodbye, Michael," she says. Get out.
He leaves. Work is going to be difficult for him, but she knows that. Dinner is going to be difficult for Mallory. Four years without her best friend; Lynne is freedom. Elemental and out of control.
