Beneath Him... Ch. 03

Max looked around Stella's apartment. It was refined, but restrained. Most of the furniture was just good quality high street brands, well treated and maintained. But here and there, carefully selected, were a few pieces that showed the wealth she had from her family.

Egon Schiele's "Seated Nude Girl" reclined on one wall, grotesque and erotic, showing her interests clearly. It sat between pictures of a cat lounging on a rocking chair and the sun on a lake seen through dappled leaves, both by local artists. Like her, it was hiding in plain sight... but not from him.

As he admired them, he made his way to a polished pine minibar standing against one wall. There was a variety of spirits and wines there, from Grey Goose to Bacardi. If it wasn't for the single bottle of Yamazaki 18 sitting unopened among them you'd think it was just a regular bar. That wasn't for her to drink. It was something to own, to enjoy knowing was yours.

He opened it and poured himself a glass as he turned his attention to the oaken bookshelf next to the bar. The books on it covered a range of subjects from science to history to poetry. Authors from Terry Pratchett to Walt Whitman to Stephen Hawking filled the shelves. Most of the books were modern and well read. A large collection of cyber-security related books spoke of her background. The one exception was an aging but perfectly preserved copy of Venus in Furs. Max ran a finger down the perfectly pristine spine. It hadn't been read, but perhaps worshipped.

One shelf held a row of candles. He picked one up and examined it. It was a rose scented white one by Diptyque. Max wasn't familiar with such things, but got the impression this was a bit different from the Yankee Candles even he'd heard of. He thought about what he was going to do with Stella and pocketed it.

Finally, he headed towards the bedroom.

Stella was kneeling beside her bed, ready for him. She had stripped completely naked and held a riding crop between her teeth. Max suppressed a laugh. It was perfect obedience, but also overdone and too needy, too desperate. He'd been hungry for someone to slake his perversions on, but looking at Stella right then he realized she was infinitely more so.

He swirled the whisky in the glass and held out his hand. "Give!"

She grinned and passed the crop to him. Max looked over the top of the glass, enjoying the sight before him. Large breasts, thick nipples begging to be bitten, a mouth made to suck... She even kept her pussy hairy, a particular pleasure of his -- and a sharp contrast to his supposed girlfriend who had her waxed to oblivion.

Stella watched as he took a long, slow sip of his drink. Her careful mask slipped as she realized what he was drinking.

"That's the Yamazaki!" Her brows knitted, her lips formed a line. He could see she wanted to take it away from him, but she was committed to this now. "The bottle cost over a thousand!"

The riding crop came down quick and hard across her nipple, drawing a shriek.

"First," Max said. "I saw it. I wanted it. I took it."

He took another sip.

"Second, this isn't bad, but I prefer the 25 myself. It's more... full-bodied. Like you!"

It was a tease, an insult, but also a flex. Yamazaki 25 cost several times more than her treasured bottle of the lesser version. He was drinking what she couldn't afford to open.

"And third," the crop slashed across her other nipple. "Don't you ever try to top from the bottom again. I decide how you're punished, not you!"

She winced, her eyes watering in pain. Her breath was ragged for a moment as she stilled herself. She didn't cry out again though and Max felt she was daring him to go harder.

He stepped beside her and lay the candle on her bedside table. He struck a match and leaned in to light the wick. The front of his pants pressed against her face as he reached past her. Stella held her position, moving only when forced to by the movement of his body, no longer seeking to control anything herself. Max smiled. He'd claimed her and she knew it. Quickly he turned off the bedside lamp, leaving only the candle to light the room.

Max curled his hand through her hair and pushed her towards the bed. He forced her, face down, on top of it. That's when he noticed them - thin white scars across the top of her thigh, barely visible under the dim light. He leaned back.

"You're a cutter..." His voice measured, revealing more in his strict control than any judgment could.

"Look again," Stella whispered.

He did. He'd seen self-injury before on a cousin who had been severely abused. These marks were different. Not straight, not random at all. They were careful curves and arcs, even a spiral to center the piece. It wasn't an attempt to let pain out, but to welcome it in and weave it into the flesh itself as the finishing touch to her artwork.

"You're a cutter," he repeated. "But for different reasons."

His hand came down hard on top of the scars.

"You will never do this again--"

Another rough spank on top of the bodily art.

"... Without me there to help."

Under his hand, Stella sighed. Max nodded. Yes, she knew she'd found a like minded soul. Not someone who would object, but someone who would make sure she did it right. His hand stroked across her buttocks, savoring their fullness, slapping just lightly to admire the way her flesh rippled. Then he delved between her thighs, running a single finger up her slit before removing it.

"That makes you wet, huh? The thought of having to carve yourself in front of me. Well, next time you'll be showing your artwork off on my flesh too."

She tried to look back at him, but his hand fell onto her buttocks again.

"Did someone say to move? I'm telling you what will happen, not asking for your opinion."

And he spanked her. Soft at first, just enough to warm her beautiful arse. Then building in force and swiftness, each blow faster and harder than the last. First her left cheek, then the right. He played her like a drum and as the heat and pain began to build she moaned like a symphony to suffering. Max admired the look of her, yielding to what he demanded, and found himself growing harder by the second.

He stopped the spanking suddenly and thrust a finger between her buttocks and into her arsehole. She squawked in shock and almost shot across the bed. He clamped his free hand on the small of her back pinning her before he removed the finger.

"Not this time," he said. "But this is mine too whenever I want it."

He unfastened his pants and shoved them and his underwear down his thighs quickly, while continuing to control Stella with his other hand. He positioned his dick against her slit, finding it easily even in the dark. And he thrust in. Not gentle, not romantic, just one hard thrust. She grunted, then sighed.

"Yeah, you know you want it hard, bitch," Max said.

He began to fuck her, fast and rough. He didn't pay attention to her pleasure but to his, using her cunt like it was a sex toy. Another time, he thought, he might go slower, but right now they both needed to show each other that he could and would use her however he desired. Over her shoulders he saw her hands curl into the sheets.

"What kind of a whore wants to be used like a fucking fleshlight?" he said.

She gasped as he changed his angle. His balls hit her pussy lips as he increased his force even further. He could feel her pussy clamping on him as he fucked her.

"Oh, you sneaky bitch," he said as he stopped moving. "You're trying to milk me aren't you? You still think you're in control here?"

He reached for the candle and raised it over her arse. Slowly he turned it on its side and dripped hot wax over first one then the other cheek, Stella screamed.

"FUUUCK! That's not a bondage candle, it's the real fucking thing!!! That hurts!"

Max grinned. She thought he'd made a mistake, didn't know the difference between the two. He knew exactly what he was doing, and that he'd likely cause a burn. She needed it. So did he. "What? You want it gentle now?"

She sucked in a breath and shook her head. "No... no... it's good... it just... fuck it hurts... it hurts real nice... fuck me you bastard, I'm so close!"

"When I want to," he said, "I will. And you might just be the first slut who's deserved my dick in them."

He put the candle down and ran a finger through the rapidly cooling wax, spreading it across the flesh as it hardened. When the wax was fully solid he stripped it from the skin, listening to her sharp gasps as it pulled at her flesh.

"Yeah, it burned you," he said. "Nobody else will see it, but you'll sting for days. If you need to use lotion when we're done, I'll let you."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stella sneered. "This is hot as fu--"

He slammed into her once more, silencing her. He wasn't ramming her anymore though, he was doing all he could to draw every response her body could offer. Slow, straight, sliding movements turned into twists and jolts. He changed angle and position, fucking her as he did, to push her on towards an orgasm. He could feel his own balls tightening as he worked her body. He wouldn't last much longer. He couldn't resist her.

Max wrapped his hand in her long, black hair and pulled back on it as he thrust in viciously again, burying his dick as deep as he could.

"Come for me, you fucking bitch!" he yelled.

And as he shot deep within her she did. He felt it. He didn't need to ask. Her cunt clamped hard on his dick. She screamed as loud as he did. For long seconds they just stayed in that position, each riding out the last remnants of their pleasure. It was only as he came down from the peak and let go of her hair he realized just how hard he'd been pulling it. Stella winced and soothed her scalp with her right hand -- but smiled in satisfaction as she did.

"Wow! If you keep that up I'm going to need a wig!"

Max collapsed on top of her laughing.

A few minutes later they were lying in bed together, Stella curled into Max's arms. He kissed the top of her head and told her she was amazing. And she had been, he thought. Sure, his mind went to even darker places they would explore together, but this had been a start to their relationship he'd never expected and never experienced before.

Relationship?

He tasted the word as he realized that was what he wanted. Of course, he had no idea yet whether she did. But the way she'd loved everything he did to her, the way she'd embraced it all like it was a treasure she desired, a drug she couldn't escape, told him they were at least committed sexually if nothing else.

"Stella," he said as he slowly caressed her shoulder. "What's your safeword?"

She shrugged. "Don't need one."

"Pick one!"

She looked into his eyes and he stared at her fiercely.

"PICK ONE!" he repeated.

She grinned, wickedly. "Harder?"

His glare broke down. That was so her. It was the kind of brattiness that destroyed any attempt to be strict and serious. "Now pick again, you pain-hungry slut. I want to keep breaking you, not smash you so hard you can't recover."

She smiled at that and kissed his lips. "Okay then 'Softer', I guarantee you won't hear me say THAT unless I REALLY need you to stop!"