The Owned By Studs Bundle Page 2
He wiped his mouth and hands with the napkin and moved the plate aside, popping open the latches to the suitcase. From inside, he pulled out a small box and handed it to Vanessa.
Inside was an ornate gold-and-emerald choker necklace. Brilliant green stones the sizes of marbles trailed down and outward like a waterfall of opulence. Vanessa's heart caught in her throat.
“I wasn't sure if I was going to give it to you,” he said. “I wasn't sure if it would mesh well with . . . hmm. Certain factors.”
Rule # 15 was giving him problems. Never break character. She needed to cover for him.
“It's been so soon since our anniversary,” she gushed. “I wasn't expecting you to get me anything!”
She crawled onto his lap, still holding the ornate necklace, and kissed him passionately. All of herself pouring into it. She couldn't help the outpouring of emotion. This monumental gift, just because he liked her so much already. He didn't have to give it to her; she never would have found out. No, he wanted her to be recognized for doing so well.
Her kiss was needy, greedy, sucking his wet tongue into her mouth and guiding it around, wanting him to feel the inside of her somewhere. God, he was such a hunk. Vanessa wished all of her clients were half as handsome as he was.
“Please,” she pressed again. “I want to thank you.” She squeezed the thick bulge of his cock. “Properly. Please?”
He nodded, pushing her down on the shoulder.
“Do it how I like,” he said.
“Thank you, baby.”
She got down on to her knees, tossing her hair back. The choker slid on easy, the lock-clasp no problem to operate. The emeralds decorated her chest and neck wonderfully, turning her into a set piece of his liking. Of his design. The thought turned her on immensely.
With relish, she unzipped his pants and revealed his cock. Already half-hard, it was thick and long, an enormous masterpiece of sucking material. Her mouth watered.
When was the last time she had wanted so badly to suck a cock? Had she ever?
It was hard to focus on foreplay, so great was her need to feel his length in her mouth. But she was trained, practiced. Her soft tongue ran up and down the length of his immense shaft. Always, she kept her eyes focused upward, knowing that he would like it when she focused on him entirely.
Closing her eyes was always accompanied by a eager moan, and she couldn't help but moan with each drag of her wet, perfectly shaped tongue down the long length of his meat. She kissed all around the head, and then slid away to his balls, kissing there, suckling needfully for a moment.
She knew she was doing it exactly how he liked, somehow. She knew that...somehow, some way, he was running the show. His powerful mind expanding onto hers, making her what he wanted; molding her entirely.
He moaned. It was so fun to hear him moan, someone so powerful like that. She could swing this back her way, she knew it. All she had to do was suck him off like she knew he could. Then, this rich stud would be wrapped around her finger, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from giving her gifts like that necklace again and again.
Her lips slid over his cock tip slowly, aching and exalting. She let out a deep throaty purr as the head penetrated deep into her mouth, rolling her tongue around its massive hardened girth. He had gotten very hard, very fast.
It was all going her way, and she knew why. She was putting on her best effort. It was, with him, so effortless to try. It felt good to try—it wasn't a chore.
Was it the necklace? Was it because he had given her such an amazing decoration? She knew, of course, that's all she was to him. Something to decorate his busy life. He didn't have time to go out and capture a beauty like her legitimately. So he bought her, and then bought her something gorgeous to make this beautiful part of his life even more beautiful.
Vanessa felt her heart swelling even as she sucked lovingly on his cock. She was beauty in his life. Of course he would be helpless against her. Everything up to now had been a front, an act to try and show that he was tough and strong. But in front of her beauty, he would fall like anyone else.
But, almost as soon as she thought this, he unceremoniously pushed her head off his cock.
“No,” he said, “Not like that.”
It was like he was reading her mind. She thought, at first, that what he meant was that it was time for the main event. She stood up, ready to lead him to the bedroom. But instead, he held on to her hair and pushed her face down to the corner of the table. Not hard, but definitely insistent. He adjusted her posture, making sure her breasts were pressing down on the table and that the necklace was right in front of them. Her lips and chin hung off the table, in ready position.
He took a moment to slap her face with his cock, letting its broad girth thump on her cheek. She gasped. She couldn't look up easily, though her eyes were wide open, but she definitely heard him laugh.
The table was at waist level for him—he was so tall!—and it was nothing for him to push his thick rod straight into her mouth. He plunged deep into her, without warning, the tip of his cockhead pushing into her throat, and then deeper.
And harder. Again without warning, he picked up his pace.
Vanessa stared up at him with pleading eyes—slow down, slow down! She moaned with a distinct kind of terror. She didn't know what would happen to her from this; she had never been throatfucked with this sort of intensity before. He just held her down, rubbing his hands through her immense blanket of hair.
Desperately, she stamped her feet, trying to gain traction or rearrange herself to something more comfortable. But her heels clicked helplessly, scuttling on the marble floor. All she really accomplished was to wave her tantalizing ass in the air at him. Everything she was doing, she knew, would only turn him on more.
He reached one hand down and pulled up her skirt, revealing her smooth bare skin, the tops of her stockings already covered in her wanton pussy juices. He slapped her ass, hard. It stung horribly, and then he did it again. No compassion, no playfulness—just hard thwacking on her perfectly sculpted flesh.
She had never known she could be dominated so completely.
She had never known she would like it so much. Her volcanic pussy juices ran downward uncontrollably. His thoughts, somehow, were in her head—calm down, you're doing great, keep taking it in, you love it.
And she believed all of it.
All her life, she thought because she was gorgeous, men would automatically trip all over themselves making sure her needs were attended to. And now, here she was, being utterly abused to serve one man's very specific need. Her cunt was on fire. Each new pump into her precum-soaked lips was making her hotter and hotter.
Her hair was sucked against her nostrils, and it was getting hard to breath. His big shaft shining and wet as it plowed in and out of her lovely lips. She didn't know how much longer she could last. Her hands went up to his arm, tapping frantically. I give, I give!
Clint didn't care. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm—so dense, so strong. He was in total control of her. Her position, her life, even her thoughts. What else was she supposed to be thinking about other than how absolutely thoroughly he was fucking her throat?
“Do you want it?” he grunted out, slapping her ass again. “Does my girlfriendcunt need my cum?”
Raggedly, she moaned out as affirmatively as she could.
He let himself go, his pelvis rocking hard against her mouth, her nose. When his load came, it never even touched her tongue at first, the hot gooey strands rocketing straight down her throat into her tummy. It was so warm, so filling. And so much of it. It felt like pints. He must not have cum in weeks.
He kept shooting as he pulled out of her, and she finally tasted it. Salty, but a little sweet, and still just so deliciously warm. He sprayed a few strands on her face as he exited all the way. Vanessa collapsed to the floor at his feet, trying to find her breath. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.
Clint pulled his pants back up and sa
t back down. She heard him picking up his fork off his plate and going back to eating dinner.
“Well?” he asked.
Oh. Of course. The rules. Yes. Follow the rules. Very important.
“Thank you,” she said, curling around his feet. She started kissing them. Slowly, affectionately. Making sure he knew it wasn't just some current in the air, that it was her taking the time to lavish adoration onto him. “Thank you, darling.”
* * * * *
Rule #14: Enjoy yourself.
They sat on one end of her enormous bed. It took up the size of two normal king-sized beds. She had it specially ordered—though of course, she paid less than ten percent of the asking price.
Vanessa usually slept on one side, and served clients on another. If they wanted to fuck on her sleeping side, she would guide them back over.
Of course, with Clint, this rule had gone to the wind. He was on her sleeping side, and she hoped he stayed there. His rules seemed so much better than hers, anyway. She clung to his body, possessive, not wanting him to get up for any reason.
He had his pants off, his shirt unbuttoned. His muscles were so firm and defined, all of him svelte, like some powerful jungle cat. He must have worked out constantly.
Her sensational body was covered only by her panties and bra, her new necklace, and of course her heels. Rule #6 was to never take off her heels. She liked that one. She looked fantastic in heels, and looking fantastic for Clint was quickly becoming her new favorite activity.
For the past thirty minutes she had just been lazily stroking his mammoth cock. Every few seconds she would sigh, just staring at it. She wanted it back inside of her. He had his hands behind his head, eyes closed, humming leisurely. It was adorable.
“May I ask you something, please?”
He opened his eyes, looking down at her. “Sure.”
“It's about money.”
He frowned a bit. “ . . . okay.”
“How much of a chunk out of your pay was it to buy me this splendid, wonderful, amazing gift?”
He made a sound, and then he said nothing for a time. Vanessa was afraid she had made him angry. He had fucked her so mercilessly when he was seeming to enjoy her—what would he be like if she angered him?
“Well,” he said finally. “Put it this way: Every stone is real. Someone far, far less than me could pay for months of house payments with it, let's say. Or tuition. Or a new car. And I could buy probably several dozen more before my army of accountants noticed that my monthly allotment for personal expenses was only just starting to dip.”
Vanessa felt herself gulp. But the admission of such wealth created a kind of out-of-body experience for her. She felt distant, disconnected. She was staring openly at him, her mouth hanging open a bit, and her slim hand was on his giant cock, stroking it intently as she looked into his eyes.
He was so handsome, and so rich, and so powerful, and he just knew it.
“You like how rich I am?”
She nodded dumbly, barely thinking, and then shook her head.
“I like you, love,” she said. “And that you're rich and give me nice things is a nice bonus.”
He smirked. “That sounds nice.”
He wasn't buying it. What territory were they walking into, here? She may as well just tell him the truth. She gave his cock a nice, deliberately long strong. She smiled when he shuddered.
“I'm a gorgeous woman,” she said at last. “We both know that.” She felt his cock jerk in her hands at her own admission of vanity. That was interesting. She continued.
“I have plenty of income on my own, so someone with a good amount of income isn't really of interest to me. So not just anybody can have me. That list is rather small. The list of people who can own me toe to tip . . .” she ran her hand up and down his cock again, slowly again, “that list is even smaller. And the list of men who can control my every single action, who can give me access to all the power this world has ever had . . . well, that's not a list at all, is it? That's just a name.”
She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “That's your name, Clint. So come show me how you rule.”
There was something supernatural about him. That was how he had garnered all his power. Being in her mind like he had. She couldn't bring it up to him, couldn't say it—that was the ultimate rule. She couldn't explain how she knew he was fucking her mind. Every time she tried, she just got hornier.
But truth be told, she found herself not caring. It was hot to be fucked with. And she didn't even care if he made her think that much.
His smile grew. He moved her hand off his cock and picked her up by her tiny waist. He was so big compared to her. With no effort at all, he tossed her further up the bed. Each of his muscles rippling and large. Her knees gathered up on her chest, framing her tits, and he plunged into her.
God, his cock was so fucking enormous. It felt so fucking right, having him inside of her. She was so glad she was so utterly wet. That she had been wet all night, just for him.
She felt like he was splitting her in two. It matched what was happening in her head. The splitting of her philosophy—the one that had told her that she would be in control of everything she ever encountered, and now this stark reality of a man drilling her silly little beliefs into dust with every new perfectly placed stroke of his massive cock.
What had she been thinking, believing she could control this billionaire stud? It was all she could do to keep up with him.
He wrapped his hand around her emerald-decorated throat, holding her tight exquisite muscles there firmly. Vanessa's heart started pounding wildly.
“No one else,” he said, pounding into her. “You belong to no one else.”
Her eyes went as wide as possible.
Was he talking in the fantasy, still?
Did he mean it?
Oh god oh fuck what if he really meant it?
“No one else!” she gasped out. His grip tightened, and her cunt's grip on his cock tightened as well. “I belong to no one else!”
His thrusts got harder, faster. She could feel his big balls slapping against her ass. He was so big, so fucking big, and his cock was just riding on her g-spot.
How long had it been since she had felt sexual bliss like this? How long had it been since she had come anywhere close to orgasm?
And here was this man, this rich fucking arrogant stud, owning her cunt like he owned everything else in his life. She was becoming just one more part of an enormous economy of objects that he controlled utterly.
And Vanessa was fucking loving it.
His grip on her throat kept tightening, bit by bit, stroke by stroke. How was he just getting bigger inside of her? He hammered into her like some sexual demon.
“Fucking mine,” he said again, his voice thick.
She was outright choking now, and yet still she tried to nod in agreement. Fucking his.
Vanessa, for a few seconds, wondered if he would just kill her. Just fuck her into the bliss that she so desperately wanted him to feel and then wrench her neck until she felt nothing else.
Certainly, he could get away with it. He was fucking her so well that she didn't even think that she would mind.
Vanessa realized that she had long ago now surrendered totally, utterly, completely to his overwhelming power over her every thought and act.
The orgasm that flooded through her body with his swift, powerful strokes as he shuddered out another hot round of seed inside her belly, then, was panicky and life-clinging.
This could be her very last bit of pleasure! He could take it all from her. Her money, her place, her life. She felt her mind grasping at everything—at the bliss he was giving her, at the gasps of breath that he suddenly let flow into her body, at the death grip she had taken on his back, her legs wrapping around his strong form so needfully.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He could have killed her and paid off the cops and whoever else and gotten away it totally clean. And she couldn't stop thinking abo
ut how hot that was and how hunkish he was and how twisted her thoughts had become around the massive mind-bending rod he called a cock.
His enormous load of cum felt even bigger than the deposit before from his throat-fucking. Both ends of her layered in his seed now. It felt so good.
“Thank you,” she breathed finally. Obeying. Following rules. “Thank you so much, love.”
* * * * *
Rule #15: Never Break Character.
She slept in the necklace he gave her, its weight reassuring, even in her dreams. Usually her dreams were empty, squalid things. Walking in malls with men staring at her, or waiting in lines at amusement parks for rides that were just elevators shooting downward. But that night—though she could not recall the exact events or scenario—her dreams were pleasant.
She had hoped to wake up before he did, to give him a nice blowjob to guide his entrance to the day. That would be so hot, she thought.
And after he came, after she thanked him for his cum in her belly, she would tell him how much she loved waking him up by sucking his cock like that. That would get him to come by often, wouldn't it? That would be a regular paycheck.
That would be a regular fuck from this brilliantly handsome, handsome, handsome man who she could not stop her tidal waves of feelings about. Who had fucked with her head somehow. Who owned her thoughts and her mind. She wanted that. She liked it.
But she hadn't woken up in time. Instead, she woke to him stepping out of the shower. She slid up on one arm and watched him dress, her long hair blanketing the bed beneath her. He had a terrific back, the muscles around his spine so thick and well curved. He had a terrific everything.
“Oh,” he said, seeing her finally. “I didn't mean to wake you, doll.”
She smiled. “It's all right. I wanted to wake you up.” Her smile turned into a pout. “In a very special way. You beat me to it.”
“Money doesn't sleep,” he said, wrapping his tie. “I never got used to the idea of doing it myself.”