Sex stories

Short sex stories




Dragon Wings and Faery Dust

Thank you for taking time for reading my story! This story has the same characters as An Angel and an Owl

The story Snow Angel also has the same characters and overlaps the events of this story by telling the events from another point of view. I hope you will find both stories entertaining for the holiday season.

If you enjoy the story, please vote!


November 12, 2015

Vanderbilt Charles was experiencing a first in her life; she was jealous. This emotion was unfamiliar to her and nor one she was adequately prepared to handle. Ever since childhood she'd been the center of attention, with her bright golden hair and big brown eyes. Confident, vivacious, fearless and happy, Vans got what she wanted. More often by the grace of her charms but sometimes with her skills of manipulation.

Until now! Suddenly she was the one without a love-life while her chubby, dumpy co-worker managed to snag the prize of prizes. She wanted to be happy for Ursa but she only felt the green eyed monster tearing at her soul.

Vans should be the one to have a guy like that. Handsome? Check. Educated? Check. Wealthy? Double-check. What did Ursa know about keeping a guy like that happy? Ursa didn't know shit about fashion, style, social status or charm!

But damn if the woman wasn't going through some radical butterfly transformation. Day by day Vans watched Ursa grow more and more beautiful, radiant and confident. And every moment Vans felt herself fading into the background!

This couldn't be happening!

There was something fishy with this guy. He was way out of Ursa's league. Clearly this couldn't be natural. He must be using her friend. That was the only rational explanation. So, Vans put her theory to the test. The guy had been picking Ursa up from work for the past few weeks so today she went out to have a few words with him.

She walked out to the parking lot where he stood at the passenger side of the car, dark eyes eagerly watching the back door. She felt a stab of irritation when his handsome smile fell at seeing her. He gave a polite enough nod, sleek and elegant, then resumed his casual lean, waiting for fatty.

Vans knew she had better, bigger tits, a slim waist and she worked out for hours every day doing yoga and cardio to keep her tight, sweet ass. Men drooled for her ass and they begged for it.

Except for this guy; Leo Wolfe. Ursa's...guy...who wasn't even paying attention to Vans as she strutted over to him.

He looked fucking gorgeous. The type of man who should be on a yacht with a glass of Screaming Eagle in hand and a trophy wife and mistress. He checked his watch, the golden rolex glinting as the suit sleeve slid up. It went with the black Bentley he lounged against. She could see the red leather interior past the door he held open, ready for her co-worker. "Is Ursa on her way?" He asked, his voice a low, seductive rumble, his dark eyes curious as he regarded Vans.

The negligent glance proceeding his question made her feel small and insignificant. As though he expected her to go and fetch Ursa. She felt heat drain from her face. "She's working right now. But I'm not. How about a little play? You and me." She curled a lock of golden hair around her finger as she moved closer, rolling her hips. "I'm real good with my mouth." She used her long, graceful legs to the best of their ability, swishing her hips just so.

He startled at the question and stood straighter. "I think you are mistaking my intentions with Ursa."

"Oh, I'm not. You're banging her, but we both know you can do better. You look good enough to eat. She'll be awhile—"

"Aren't you Ursa's friend?" He asked, his dark features turning stormy.

"Sure. Friends. Friends share. Right?" Vans pressed, letting her eyes trail down his body.

He shuddered but that wasn't with pleasure. His deep brown skin took on a tinge of grey. She'd never seen anyone look disgusted by her offer of sex before. "I am not interested." His said, voice flat, "Is this some joke? You're kidding right? Who do you think you are?"

"I—" She hesitated and found herself blinking in shock at the rejection. He rejected her! She sucked her lip into her mouth, trying to regain her composure and apply a different angle of the teasing, which always worked.

Except with Leo Wolfe who shuddered with revulsion again and motioned her away with a dismissive flick of long fingers. "Go away. Lets pretend you didn't say anything to me."

That was shame she felt followed by disgust with herself as his sympathetic eyes held hers, dressing her down, somehow seeing all the way inside her.

She wrapped her arms over her chest and took a step back, eyes stinging. It simply wasn't fair.

November 13, 22015

Staring at the latest delivery of roses, Vans felt the green-eyed monster rattle her ribs. Leo always sent Ursa flowers! Ursa never got them of course, since Vans was the one the delivery guy wanted to flirt with. Dozens of long steamed, champagne pink beauties. They were delivered in a tall crystal vase that must have cost more than she made in a week.

She lost her temper.

The vase shattered against the wall. The flowers and water flew everywhere with the impact. Some of her irritation faded as she tore the heads off the roses, crushing them under her shoes.

It should be her!

She should be the one with Prince Charming. She was the one going to the gym every day to work out, not Ursa! Ursa didn't deserve any of this. He was way, way, way too good for her!

Ursa. Always kissing the bosses ass, being an overachiever. Worse, yesterday she found a brochure for the Mills college with Ursa's name and classes selected for the winter semester. Obviously Ursa thought she was too good now. Ursa was leaving Vans behind. She and Vans had been friends since high school. Vans always felt superior to her but now— She felt her throat and mouth go dry.

Vans was going to be the one to work at the bookstore forever. This wasn't fair. She had to do something about it. Undermine Ursa's plans and foil her perfect little setup. Pull her back down to the level she belonged!

The bottom!

"That's an awfully big mess you're making there Missy." A man drawled, his accent a heavy southern twang as he tipped his cowboy hat back squinting from the mess of broken crystal and ruined petals to her. "Damn shame. Who done you wrong baby?"

"Fuck off Cowboy." She spat at him taking one last kick at the flowers and stems, scattering pink blooms with her savage motion.

"You have a dirty mouth on you."

She offered out her middle fingers. Both of them. His face was dirty, his clothes covered in some horrible grime but the azure blue of his eyes burned into hers as he looked from the fingers to her face. He looked out of place in downtown Oakland, like he'd just rolled in from a cattle roundup and his horse had gone galloping off without him. "Get lost." She spat at him.

Something dangerous gleamed in his gaze as he stared hard at her and she felt her heart hiccup in reaction. This guy might actually be someone unsavory. She whirled away and stomped back into the store through the back door and made sure it was double locked. She took several moments there in the hallway to gather her breath in silence. Way to go, stir up trouble with some redneck while she was at work. As if she didn't have enough on her plate already.

"Hey Vans?" Ursa's voice called from the store front. "There's a guy out here asking about you." The short, chubby woman tipped her head to one side, curious. "That is unless there's another foul-mouthed, feisty blonde working here."

"OH shit. Is it a guy?"

"Isn't it always?" Ursa laughed with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. The woman looked lovely today in some new outfit that complimented her curves, transforming her from cute to glamorous. Even her hair didn't look the usual lank, muddy brown. The curls bounced with golden highlights around her shoulders. Vans felt a vindictive thrill knowing she destroyed her flowers. The wanna-be didn't deserve them.

"Fine. I'll be right out."

Ursa gave her a thoughtful look and then shrugged and returned to the store, the goodie-goodie eager to get back to work. Making her look bad.

Cowboy stood leaning against one of the book lined display tables when she came into view, his face smeared with dirt and sweat and his eyes intense as he looked at her. He offered a tip of his hat to her.

"Can I help you with something?" Vans tried her best work appropriate voice but she wasn't really feeling it right now. The last thing she needed was this burly cowpoke to start in on her.

When he spoke, there was a kindness in his tone, his words low. "I'm not here to bust your chops sweetheart. You just seemed real upset. Pretty girl like you shouldn't be so mad."

"I'm not a girl." She said, "And I'm fine."

"Of course you're a girl." His eyes creased at the corners as he peered down her, lingering on her breasts and then raked back up to her face. He let out a contented little sigh, eyes twinkling. When he grinned, his teeth looked very white against the dirty face. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Are you hitting on me?" She asked, staring at him and his cool confidence where he stood. "Buddy, you are so not my type."

He continued to grin and regarded himself, tapping the toe of his dirty boots on the floor before lifting his gaze back to her. "Hitting on you? I guess I am. What is your type? Older man with one foot in the grave, the other foot on a stack of slippery gold who needs your push into the coffin? Or are you more of a trophy bride, future-ex type? You look the type who could be a bit of both." His amusement didn't change or fade, he didn't back off.

And the words stung. "Why do you say that?" She demanded, feeling her face heat.

"Saw the way you dashed those flowers around. They were not good enough for you. You're expecting something a little better. You don't look like the type who wants a good boy. You look like you're bored. Not challenged enough. Need something new in your life. Explore some limits?"

"With a cowboy? Man, you don't know me."

"I know your type. The way you look at me." His hand rubbed over his jaw, his hands dirty and knuckles raw from whatever work he'd been doing. "You're judging me just like I'm judging you. He calls you Princess? I think you need to be knocked off your high horse and put on your knees for a few days." His full mouth twisted into a knowing smile.

"You read the card?" She gaped at him.

He shrugged up one shoulder, "you just left the mess out there. Of course I did. Looks like there's been quite a few flower deliveries that didn't meet your high expectations."

"You don't know me." Vans snapped, furious. And yet even as he made the statement, her stomach curled around in a clutch of desire. Did she want to be on her knees? Controlled?

A small, eager voice inside her whispered: 'yes!'

"Ah, but I know enough. I guess I'll take your rejection gracefully. Do enjoy your weekend Precious." The way he said it, it was like he could see into her future and the hours of frustration waiting for her. The gym and then her empty apartment. She no longer had Ursa to keep her amused. It wasn't fair Ursa wouldn't offer Vans the shoulder to complain on. She was so used to Ursa always being there. Now Vans was alone in her loveless future. Ursa and her ill gotten prize.

The prize that should be Vans!

Cowboy drew away from her and walked for the door. When he passed Ursa, he tipped his hat and grinned at the fat clerk and offered a wink. What in the fuck was going on with her life? Ursa was being flirted with? Next thing Vans knew, the flower delivery guy would be trying to get into Fatty's pants too.

Ursa gave her a curious look but Vans just smirked at her and gave a toss of her head, playing it off in her usual confident manner. "He just tried to get my number." And with that, sauntered back to the office to avoid working until she could leave.

November 20, 2015

Vans let things get out of hand.

A little at first with her desire to sooth her wounded ego, but the snowball effect of her jealous mind slipped her control.

On Monday, Cowboy showed up around lunch time and flirted with her in the arrogant, unflappable manner and he was just as dirty. Unwashed, not naughty. He had an extra growth of hair on his jaw, glinting gold through the dirt and sweat.

Tuesday he was there again at the same time, casually flirting with her as though he were at home in the book store.

"What is it you do anyway?" She asked him as he followed her through the shelves.

"I tame wild horses." He teased and flashed the Cheshire grin of sparkling teeth at her. Infuriating. "What do you do?"

"I shelf books and answer annoying questions from customers."

"You're so good at it." He drawled in the smoky southern accent.

She wished he wasn't such a dirt farmer or so damn ugly. He was funny and witty, but she really couldn't get over how messy he was. He might almost be tolerable if he were clean. Tall with a lean, powerful build, he had a square jaw and those brilliant blue eyes. Then he opened his mouth and acted like such a redneck.

"Come away with me this weekend." He suggested out of nowhere, hovering close to her when she didn't shove him away.

"I'm not really into horses." She lied, not looking over. Memories of her old polo lessons tumbled into her head and she angrily shook them off.

"No? Are you quite sure?"

"Definitely sure." She said, pushing books around on the shelf, refusing to look at him.

"You really won't give a cowpoke like me a shot huh fancy-pants?"

"Not when you smell like the back end of a bull. No."

"I'm a hard working man." He said, tipping his hat back to look at her. "You might try it and find you like getting filthy with a good ol boy like me. All sweaty and dirty." He poked out the tip of his tongue, pressing it against his upper lip through his big smile.

She glanced over at him and felt a strange tightening in her stomach. There was no way she should be getting turned on by this jackass but—fuck if he didn't look like he would be good for some serious naughtiness.

"Come away with me this weekend." He murmured to her, stepping closer and into her personal space. He owned the space he took up, towering over her in the ugly plaid shirt. She didn't push him away. "I'll clean up. I swear, I'm real nice under all this."

"Yeah, likely story. Modest too. You're like a diamond in the rough or some bullshit like that?" She shoved a book onto the shelf, hard, struggling against the urge to be drawn into his strength. "You trying to get me out somewhere and rape me?"

"Oh, I'm not like that Precious. This is a holiday party in Tahoe. Lots of snow and games. I don't have a date. It's really, really fancy. I guarantee you would enjoy it."

"I bet you're wrong." She answered but found herself looking up at him. His teeth really were too white for a typical cowboy. "What do you do? Really."

He shrugged. "I work hard and I play harder. If what I do matters that much, I guess you're the right person to play with. Was I was right about you looking for a sugar daddy?"

"Fuck you."

He chuckled and bowed low to her before turning to saunter out. Again, he stopped by Ursa where the other woman was arranging a display and the two exchanged a few quiet words and smiles. The green eyed beast in her heart thrashed and coiled violently.

Wednesday and Thursday were the same, almost. Except she didn't shoot him down nearly as fast when he extended the invitation to leave town with him. On Thursday he was almost clean, and he smelled of warm leather rather than oil. She missed the sweaty tang to him and found herself smiling when he sauntered in.

This time, he offered her an envelope, "If you want to join me, a limo will pick you up from here tomorrow night. No pressure. The driver will give you instructions for the weekend."

"That sounds really sketchy." She told him, eying the envelope.

"It's a sex party." He whispered huskily at her. The way he watched her indicated he was measuring her response.

"I'm not a prostitute." She told him and drew back.

"I never said you were. I suspect that you're a subby girl. Are you?"

She felt herself blushing and sputtered like Ursa for a moment before scowling up at his warm smile.

"That's a hit." He murmured, slipping closer to her and stroking her arm with the envelope. The scent of leather grew stronger as he bowed his head down to her. "I admit I am looking for a partner to have fun with. I'm looking for someone spirited and lively and who enjoys sex for the pleasure of sex. Do you know what Pony play is?"

"It's that kinky shit boys do with other boys right? With the horse-hair buttplugs?"

He laughed warmly and grinned, "Fuck you're hot. It can be that, yes, but pony play also can be women as ponies or men as ponies with grooms — those people handling them --being either male or female."

She shifted, uncomfortable with the heated flush that swept over her cheeks and she glanced around to make sure no one else was around to overhear this particular conversation. "Alright. So what? You like dressing up women as horses? That's weird. Not sure it's my thing."

"I do like it. I like a woman who shows off for me and knows she can captivate an audience. Eating apples and sugar cubes off my—palm." He murmured, petting the envelope down her arm to her wrist. "You aren't obligated to join me. I just have a feeling you would really have a great time. I promise if I get you flowers, they will be fancy enough that even you wouldn't dash them against the wall and stomp them."

She swallowed and looked at him, all the smart ass remarks she had to throw back at him melting off her tongue as he reached out to cup her cheek and bow forward to brush a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.

"Come to me tomorrow night. I'll make you a queen." His eyes twinkled as he smoothed a rough thumb over her mouth lips softly as he drew back.

Somehow she'd managed to clutch the envelope and only realized it when she'd watched him walk out of the store. He glanced over one shoulder and winked before gliding around the building and out of site. "Fuck me running..."

Flirting with him softened her anger with Ursa. But then the flowers arrived and sent her into a renewed tailspin. There were more flowers this time in the vase looked twice as large. Big champagne pink flowers, dozens of them. She thought of what Cowboy said to her as she threw the vase and flowers against the wall. It wouldn't take much for her to fall for flowers, they only had to have her name on them. Not: 'To Princess'.

Fucking, undeserving Ursa.

Rain began to fall as she crushed another of the flowers under her foot and tore the heads off the others. All the while she thought how much she hated the other woman. Today she'd reduced Ursa to tears, which was a start, but she needed to drive a wedge between her and Leo.

It would be easy.

Vans only needed to plant some mistrust. Ursa would believe that the handsome stud would go for Vans. It happened before when Vans tried to set Ursa up with a blind date. The guy wanted Vans so much, he'd more or less told Ursa in the middle of their date before walking out on her. Vans couldn't help it if she was gorgeous. It wasn't her fault. She didn't even want that guy.

Strange how the guy she actually wanted wouldn't give her the time of day. Leo Wolfe was her type of guy. Strong, powerful, wealthy and in control. That's the only type of man who could handle Vans. He was wasted on a chubby, meek girl like Ursa.

Vans caught Ursa on the way out, amused that Leo wasn't there to pick her up. It was the absolute perfect setup. She laid her lie out for her and the woman took it all. Unfortunately, rather than agreeing to get the car for a ride to her dump of an apartment, Ursa refused, tearfully making a run for the bus stop. The plan was not perfect.
She sat in her car, glaring at the arrival of the Knight in Shinning Armor Leo as he happened to intercept Ursa at the bus stop. That pretty much fucked up her whole plan. Through the windshield she watched them and guilt gnawed at her like a rotten tooth. They really were sweet together. Why couldn't she just be happy for her friend?

Because Vans deserved to be happy too. Vans didn't want to be alone!

Maybe she should go away with the Cowboy then. At least she wouldn't need to be alone. He wouldn't need to be perfect but he could be a distraction. She had to pull out of this tailspin.

Feeling unsettled with this realization, she turned her attention to the envelope and read.

'Your Highness;

If you're reading this, you're one step closer to agreeing to escape with me for the weekend. I'm looking forward to seeing you without your walls up, exposing your vulnerable side. Trust me, no one will hurt you, unless you ask very nicely. You will be among friends at this event.

First, let me explain that you are a guest under my care and your actions will reflect upon me during your stay. While I enjoy your sharp little tongue, I hope you can show the house owner, that is House-Mistress, respect. I will provide you an outfit for your stay and it includes a mask. Yes, a mask. You are required to wear it anytime we are outside of the suite, but inside it we can toss such novelty aside. It's to protect our identity if we decide to be less than modest outside the room.

At any time if you feel uncomfortable in any way, either physically or emotionally, you need only say the safe word: 'Mushroom' — and anyone on the house staff will take care of the issue. You are not to do anything that makes you feel uneasy or at risk, you know your own limitations but must communicate them. You are not to proposition anyone for company and if anyone requests your attention, I ask that you tell me before you agree to go with them and I will collect my token from you and release you from your obligation to me.

I have no expectations except other than having a good time. I know my desire to dress you up like a my-little-pony seems strange to you, but I hope you will come around to the idea and see how erotic it can be.'

-Dragon'


Dragon.

Wrapped in a green ribbon she found a wooden disk with the stamp of a dragon burned into it. She was admiring it when the limo pulled up. The car was a beautiful, silver Rolls Royce and she stared at it, dropping the token back into the envelope. A chauffeur dressed in a stylish black tux complete with cap, stepped out into the rain and strode around to the passenger side, peering at her car curiously.

Fuckity fuck!

She swallowed down her heart and got out of the car, feeling foolish, under-dressed and awe struck. Under the brim of the hat the driver smiled as she moved to the car. "Lady. Mister Conte hopes you'll enjoy the comfort of his car for the drive. He'll meet you at the house at the proper time."

She stared inside at the creamy leather interior and then glanced at the smiling chauffeur who was obviously enjoying her shock. She snapped her mouth closed and glowered at him pretending she was thirteen again and going to polo lessons with father. She was born to this lifestyle. It had only been denied her because her mother was a slut.

"This should serve very nicely." She said as she moved closer.

"And you know your word ma'am?" He asked offering her another envelope.

"I don't know what you mean." She peeled her eyes away from the iced bottle of champagne and arrangement of red roses tucked beside it.

"The safe word." He said helpfully.

"Mushroom. I guess." Her nose crinkled up, feeling foolish. She hesitated and then took the envelope. "Is he for real? Mister Conte I mean."

"Yes ma'am. Very real."

"Your boss?" She guessed.

"Yes ma'am."

Wow. She felt a barbed twist of guilt for what she'd done to Ursa as she slipped into the comfortable leather seat. Stuffing away her shame, she opened the invitation.

The heavy linen card was an imprinted with a golden snowflake and the word 'Winter Wonderland 2015'

'Welcome to our Winter Celebration at the Tahoe house. As this is your first introduction to one of my parties and to the lifestyle, I trust you will conduct yourself appropriately as your patron has assured me you will. As a guest, you are here on the invitation of your patron and because I respect him I am waiving the usual screening process.

The game is played this way—you will accompany your patron for the weekend and wear his offered token. It need not be sexual in nature, there will be other activities in the atrium, pool, gardens and public areas.

Guests are discouraged from propositioning key-holders (Patrons). It is your obligation to behave with dignity and respect the wishes of the patron(s). No other patron(s) / Guests may molest you without his and your consent.

While outside your suite, you are required to wear your mask and it is suggested that you communicate with your partner(s) to firmly understand your comfort in maintaining the secrecy of your identity. You are not allowed to force your partner(s) to reveal themselves to you, nor should you ever feel compelled to expose yourself. You or your partner may break the bond of the token at any time for any reason without question. The house requests both parties act with respect in such matters or risk expulsion from house.

You have been provided your token and safe word. Do not change this word for the length of your stay as the house and staff knows this belongs to you and it will safeguard your partner and yourself. Should you or your partner(s) find yourselves in a situation either find uncomfortable, only speak the word and find a doorman who will see to amending the situation. The house does not tolerate bending or breaking the ethics of consent. Be rough, be joyous and be safe.'


She sipped the Champagne, smiling at the pink Ace of Spades on the label of the rosé. He had exquisite taste! There were chocolate dipped strawberries with a note attached to the small, bouquet of roses.

'My Queen — A royal sovereign requires a king she can worship without shame, fear or reservation. Come kneel at my feet and you'll never look back.'

"So cocky!" She hissed as she squinted at the perfect, crisp handwriting. It didn't match the rough, filthy cowboy who haunted her at the shop. His words resonated in her, making her stomach tighten in delicious spasms she'd never felt. This wasn't a fumbling boy. This was a man who knew what he wanted. For the first time in almost a month, she could muzzle the green eyed monster.

A box sat in the seat beside her, wrapped with a bright blue ribbon that reminded her of his eyes. Grinning, feeling like it was early Christmas, she pulled the bow open and pulled the top off the package. Inside nestled an elaborate sequin covered mask. It rippled with blues and greens like flowing water and at the temples flared a pair of gossamer fairy wings. The rest of the outfit matched the theme of the flimsy gauze fabric and sparkling gemstones affixed to it.

"Pony pay or fairy play?" She murmured to herself and pulled the corset out and whistled softly. It was made of leather, dyed brilliant azure and green to gleam like metal. At the bottom lay a pair of pumps with tall heels, delicate flowers embellished the sides and over the toes and a strap would close around her ankle.

It made her feel strange looking over the heels. Cinderellas must have felt this way. She cuddled one of them in her hands, frowning at the label on the bottom. Jimmy Choo, size 7. Her size. All of it overwhelmed her and she curled into her seat and stared out the window at the traffic. Tahoe house. It was going to be a very long drive.

She dabbed at her tears and sipped her drink and wiggled her feet into the beautiful new pumps, admiring them at the end of her long, shapely legs. Oh yes, she was meant for this. This is the way it should be.

They stopped at a hotel where she would freshen up and change into the clothes and after packing the box again, she stepped out and scanned the parking lot. There were certainly an abundance of fine, fancy cars parked there. As she followed the chauffeur to the hotel room she spotted the Bentley.

That mother fucker and the fat bimbo were here too? The green eyed monster took no time waking up and shuddering the cage of her ribs with massive jaws. She hugged the box against her chest and scanned the hotel but it wasn't like she could find him.

The chauffeur noticed her pause. "Are you feeling alright? Would you like me to carry the package for you?"

"No." She shook her head and hugged the box a little harder.

The man's mouth curved into a slow smile, "As you wish. If you need anything, I will stand here until you are ready to depart." Face averted, he stepped aside from the door to put his spine against the frame, standing at attention.

As she moved past him, she admired the broad shoulders and confident stance. Something vaguely familiar about his profile nagged at her as the door closed behind her.

Most of the costume was easy to slide into, it was hardly a covering at all. Only the corset offered some challenges. She had it mostly laced up when a knock rattled the door. "Ma'am, if you need any assistance."

Sighing down into her breasts she strode to the door and flung it open. The kind chauffeur wore a simple black domino mask now and smiled at her almost shyly before he made the 'turn around' movement with his hand. She did so, presenting her back to him and he deftly finished the lacing.

"You're awfully good at this."

"I've had a lot of practice." He murmured, his breath tickling her shoulder.

"Do you ever go to these parties?" She asked, glancing over and meeting his eyes through their masks. She hadn't noticed before how very blue his eyes were either.

"Sometimes." He allowed and his knuckle brushed along her arm from shoulder down to elbow. "Do you like the clothes Lady?"

"Yes." She breathed out, feeling her eyebrows draw together and she blinked at her driver. "Wait...are you..." She couldn't believe she'd not paid attention to him before, but now that he was so close to her, touching her, she could swear he was the Cowboy. Those eyes and their electric intensity were not something she could easily forget. But shaved and clean and — he was a driver? But...

"Don't forget your token." He murmured, attaching it to her shoulder without meeting her eyes. "We should get you into the limo. Leave your things here, we'll return for them at the end of the weekend." He murmured, stepping away from her and standing stiffly beside the door with an amused little smile.

She squinted at him but his gaze was now fixed across the parking lot. Son of a bitch. She was so confused, but he was already moving off towards the parking lot again.

It wasn't the Rolls he led her to but another limo, a newer one and he waved off the doorman so he could whisk the door open for her and hand her inside. His fingers lingering on her hip just a little too long. Jerking a look over at him, he smiled, azure eyes twinkling under the hat with a wink. Before she could ask, he was gone and the door closed sharply, thumping her bottom. As she stumbled forward, a chorus of bright laughter greeted her.

"Hey." She greeted the strangers, arranging herself between two tall women in costumes twice as elegant as her own. One in silver feathers looked like a dove. The other with a golden headdress of a lioness. Someone offered her a glass of champagne. It did not compare to the Ace of Spades she enjoyed earlier.

"First time?" Lioness asked her, green eyes looking down her nose at her, raking her with cold judgment.

Oh yes, Vans could handle this just fine. She lifted the glass to her lips, remembered step-mother's cruel haughtiness and slipped, "Just giving it a try." She said primly. "I don't really think playing dress-up is my thing but—why not?"

"It is cut-throat." The Lioness informed her. "Tell her Dove."

Dove, slim and regal also looked down her nose at her on the other side. "The patrons can be brutal. You have to behave yourself and make sure you get the safe-word in case things get bad. Unless you're a real pain slut, it can be a bit much. Just watch yourself. If a guest has their eye on a particular patron, it can get ugly."

"But the rules say—"

The women filled the limo with tittering laughter. When it stopped, Lioness pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "Oh you are adorable. The rules only work when they are followed. It doesn't stop anyone from bending them enough to get what they want. Or, some people aren't in public play spaces when bad things happen. No one to cry out to while you're being beaten."

"But that's not—"

The women laughed again, "So cute. You really are a girl scout. Precious, delicate Faery. Well, do play your 'hard core' weekend dear. Then you can go back to your PTA meetings and cookie baking." Lioness's green eyes glinted. "Stay out of the way of those who live this full time. You'll get your lovely little ass hurt. Understand me?"

Vans felt the insults slide off her as she lifted her glass into a toast. "Let's just make sure you don't fuck with me. Alright? You might be hot shit here at your play party, behind a mask, but don't think I won't tear it off you and find out who you are and ruin you in the real world if you get in my way. Do you understand me?"

That shut them up and she looked around the interior. Their self important smirks fell away and they regarded her with wariness. Good. Fucking uptight bitches.

She put the glass aside without taking another sip, flicking her fingers at the glass to indicate it wasn't good. Turning her attention to the window, her thoughts in tangles. Did she want a hard core weekend? Was she a pain slut? The thought didn't horrify or shock her, she simply didn't know. No one ever dared try anything like that with her. She would have stomped some nuts if someone tried to hurt her. Thoughts of Cowboy not just trying it, but doing it, made her feel flushed and needy.

Hurt me. A small, eager voice dared him.

She checked the token, adjusting it so it displayed the dragon. The women gasped and she looked up to see Lioness gawking at her and her. Dove shifted away slightly. She held their gazes as though she understood their response. They didn't know who they were just fucking with.

To be fair, she wasn't sure who she was fucking with either.

Chauffeur? Cowboy? Someone else completely?

She was out of her mind to do this!

The house they pulled up to was not a house at all. The massive lodge was more than a resort tucked against the backdrop of the lake and surrounded by trees. When a hand extended in to guide them out, she took it first ignoring the indigent huffs from the others as she made it into the fresh air first.

Screw those uptight, rich bitches. She made sure to show off her shoes to them as she glided out and tossed a cocky look back of her shoulder as she adjusted her mask. Turning, she sashayed through the press of people towards the house.

Limos parked in the driveway, letting out the press of guests. She assumed they were guests, she didn't see a single person wearing the Key indicating they were patrons. Or so the rules said.

The rules.

The way the women laughed with derision, those must be more of a loose guideline rather than strict rules. So, she could bend a few. It could be fun. Feeling relaxed, she looked around at the other guests in their colorful outfits and moved up the stone cobbles to the front doors of the house. She moved to the side and scanned the crowd, trying to find Ursa in the press of people. She couldn't even imagine what the little fatty would be wearing to an event like this. She would look like a stuffed sausage in a corset. It would be worth the laugh to see her. Maybe she could do something to spoil her weekend.

The green eyed monster coiled around her spine and belly, whispering ideas of wreckage and ruin for her rival's weekend. And as she plotted ways she could get her hooks into Leo, she saw him. At least, she couldn't imagine anyone else who was that massive, tall and black also attending this party. He wasn't wearing a key though. He wasn't wearing much of anything except a leather strap from a quiver over his chest and a matching armored skirt and carried a silly pink bow.

Ursa wasn't anywhere to be seen. Maybe he kept this little secret from the woman. Was this why he didn't show up to pick her up at work? Even better! Here was her chance!

A heated little hiccup clenched her stomach as she moved through the crowd. He strode ahead of her, having an easier time getting through the crush with his powerful legs. Then she saw his back and she felt the warmth leach from her. His shoulders and down his spine almost to his lower back were covered in black scars. Ugly, angry scars, puckered and thick made a triangle from his shoulder blades down to a point down his spine. The quiver full of ridiculous pink arrows hid them slightly but—they were ghastly.

Throat tight and eyes burning, she jerked her face away in shock.

"Fuck."

She couldn't bring herself to even look at him again. The green eyed monster cowered in its cage, crumbling to little pieces in the empty pit of her stomach.

By the time she shook herself from her reaction, the crowd around her had thinned. She continued up the stairs unable to put her her finger on what just happened. Why had she been so angry with him? She wanted to press her considerable skill and talent into ruining him and Ursa in one big kaboom? She could out him in front of all these people. She could screw him behind the mask and ruin him with Ursa.

But— why?

A cold, emptiness spread over her, clawing at her heart as she thought about doing any of those things.

The doorman watched her expectantly. "Ma'am?" He said it like it wasn't his first attempt to get her attention and she forced herself to focus on the man in his tux and black domino mask. "Your invitation if you please." His white gloved hand extended while she fumbled with the invitation.

She frowned at her shaking hand. Her heart was beating way too fast. Something had unsettled her but she just couldn't figure out what. She wasn't afraid of shit.

The doorman pinned her with a searching look and very slowly returned her invitation. "Dragon will be arriving with the key-holding patrons. Please find your way inside and enjoy refreshments while you wait." He opened the door for her and allowed her in through the huge double doors.

The vast foyer was thrummed with holiday music played on a harp. A towering pine tree stood in the center of the room, filling the space with fresh evergreen fragrance. The whole space smelled like the holidays. A little early for Christmas but—this was the Winer Holiday party.

A petty blonde in a flamingo mask and costume nudged her hip with a smile, "Faery of the Dragon. How delightful. I'm Flamingo." She was beautiful and very. VERY pink down to her eyeshadow behind the elaborate, feathery mask and lipstick. She wore a token attached to the center of her bubbly breasts with a Bee on it and presented it happily. "Welcome to the house."

"Hey." She said, still shaken from her unexpected and unwanted revelation, it wasn't very friendly but Flamingo in her fluttery tutu didn't notice.

"Have a drink? The bar is just opening." She followed the glance at the tree and added, "There is a whole 'arts and crafts' event tomorrow to make decorations for the tree. If you're into that sort of thing. It's a good group of people and—usually ends up with some fun items for the tree and if you're lucky enough to get on the invite list for the Christmas Dinner — well— then you'll see it all dressed up with lights and naughty ornaments."
"Christmas dinner? Really? With kinksters?"

"Sure. I haven't ever made the list but I hear it is the best party to attend. Very exclusive. There aren't masks and no public shenanigans. It's very romantic and classy. Which is more my kink than most of the harder stuff. I'm a bit of a coward compared to some of these pain lovers."

Vans tried to get her head around this concept. Her whole idea of BDSM was the hard stuff. Whips. Chains. Hurt me hurt you. There was romance? Classy? "How exactly do you avoid the harder stuff?" She asked and frowned at the amused smile the other woman gave her.

"It's called a 'safe' word for a reason. It's complete bullshit that you have to do everything. I'm not into cutting or branding or — What do you want to drink?"

Cutting. Branding. Vans felt warmth coil through her belly, tightening down to her sex where the heat grew substantially greater. Why did that turn her on so much? Vans followed in the wake of the bubbly Flamingo and was reminded of Ursa. For the first time in weeks she didn't feel the desire to insult her coworker. "Something light, I don't know, whatever."

"Two cosmos please." She purred at the bartender and then turned back to Vans. "You have never played like this before I take it. So, my advice is to try it and if you don't like it, use your word. Don't use it to play mind games, that's low. Error on the side of your safe zones. If you don't trust your partner, don't push limits, in fact don't even try it. Some people are into that edge play but that's how people get hurt. Physically and emotionally."

By the time the drinks arrived Vans head was spinning. She accepted the glass and offered her companion a little smile. Looking around the room, she noticed most people had gathered in friendly groups, lounging, almost cuddling together on the couches or mingling on the stairway. Unbidden, her eyes found Leo in his archer costume, talking with several others. Flamingo sipped her drink, following her gaze.

"Oh. Archer. He's quite popular."

She started to ask more but the doors opened and the first of the key-holders began to filter into the room. Yes, they had keys to indicate their status, but these people also moved with a particular purpose, like they took ownership of everything in the room down to the air within. Vans realized they were the ones in charge. Her mouth felt suddenly dry.

Flamingo's body went rigid with anticipation and then she gasped color draining from her face.

"What is it?"

"My Mistress—she—"

Vans looked to see who she was talking about, and she saw her. The Queen Bee. Her corset was bright gold with bronze and black stripes making arched patterns over her breasts and along her hips and lower back. A short taffeta skirt made of gold and black fringed the tops of her thighs. A dainty crown sat atop her head and a delicate filigree mask of black concealed her dark eyes. Her skin gleamed like dark walnut, her lips as full as her ample breasts, hips and ass. She must have stood six feet tall without the stilettos and she carried her dangerously curved frame with confidence. In one hand she held a dainty crop and in the other a bull whip.

She made a direct path to the Archer and used the handle of the whip to coax his chin up. She tried anyway, but before it could make contact, the man surged to his feet. His sudden movement shocked his couch mates but didn't sway her, even when he loomed over her. She didn't back down, just tipped her chin up to watch him. Something may have been said, lost under the rumble of voices. His features were stormy as he answered with a single shake of his head before sliding away from her without letting her touch him. Every muscle of his dark body tensed with his steps as he strode for the stairs and up them.

"What just happened?" Vans asked.

Flamingo quivered at her side. "That bitch just propositioned him." Her long fingers curled around her Bee token as she glared through her mask at the woman.

Queen Bee tossed her head, dark curls dancing down the length of her back. The cruel smile couldn't conceal all the emotions beneath it. A mixture Vans knew very well. Shock. Rejection. Jealousy. Desire. Guilt.

"That's your patron? She can do that?" It somehow made her feel better, knowing Archer-Leo didn't only reject her, he shot down this dark amazon too. Other emotions chased on satisfaction's heels. Anxiety. Her 'date' might do the same to her? Irritation. At Bee for insulting the pretty woman in pink obviously waiting for her.

"She can ask anyone she wants to. But I can also throw this token back in her face. I should have known this was her game the whole time. That is her ex. I didn't understand why she suddenly wanted to come to the party after having her break away. I should have known it had to do with him."

Vans felt raw guilt for her plots and plans, even though she knew this might be a perfect Kaboom! The green-eyed monster was gone and the empty hole in her chest felt horrible.

"Excuse me." Flamingo said and turned away, moving to the stairs. The ruffling of pink feathers drew Bees attention to the girl and her expression fell, as though she'd not realized the other would have witnessed her brazen actions.

The pair vanishing from view and prying eye and ears. Vans swirled her drink and watched the door and the people coming in, trying to put names to their masks. Dragon did not arrive. Her patience stretched desperately thin by the time the hostess arrived to welcome them.

She wore a black corset with sapphire stones formed a spiral of snowflakes across her breasts. The hug of the corset gave her a lovely wasp's silhouette. A tight sheath skirt made of black leather hugged her long legs to the floor were spiked heels provided several additional inches. Her golden key rested against the swell of her breasts and her mask in gold and bronze mask with the continuation of the snowflake theme.

"Guests and Patrons." The woman said, "It is a pleasure to welcome you to the Tahoe house for the Winter Wonderland event. Isn't it lovely we are actually getting snow this year? I welcome the newcomers and request as always that our veterans take time to make them feel welcome." She scarlet lips curved slightly as her indigo eyes shifted and searched the room.

"For those who haven't attended a party before, all the floors of the house are open to everyone as are the outdoor areas, hot tub and atrium with pool. The private spaces are locked and if you have access, your key or card will grant you access. A schedule of events and meal times will be in front of the library which is on this floor towards the back hall. I look forward to the creative crafts we make for the Yule tree."

She hesitated a moment, looking at something happening at the back of the room.

"I hope you will enjoy your stay. Respect the house and those under this roof with you and be safe."

A noise caught Vans attention as House Mistress frowned. Voices lifted, a couple of the tux wearing doormen darted outside while an imposing man in a green leather mask with a savage dragon face strode across the room and up to the House-Mistress. A murmur of voices lifted as the woman and man spoke in lowered voices. Whatever information he exchanged made her shoulders stiffen.

Vans found herself captivated by this man in green. Unlike the others who wore are little as possible, he wore a tux like the doormen except his bow tie was brilliant green to match his mask. The leathery dragon headpiece had a series of horns curving back over his head to the nape of his neck.

Dragon.

The Cowboy?

Or the Chauffeur?

She touched the token at her shoulder, torn between striding up and inserting herself into the conversation and hanging back. The tension in their bodies as they talked, kept her in place while they moved away, disappearing around the tree and moving into the next room. He didn't even look around. He didn't glance her way. Did he even see her?

What an asshole!

Once they were gone, piano music filled the room, bright holiday music ringing off the walls while the conversations resumed. Pairs, trios, quads and even a six-some slipped off into the depths of the huge house to play. Although several people regarded her with smiles and winks, when they saw her token they did not approach her. She was a pretty ornament people were wary of addressing.

She wandered around with her drink in hand, finding it impossible to find anyone to talk with, everyone was either shopping or showing off.

It was the most humbling experiences of her life.

The women around her knew how to handle their sexual lures and the patrons were drawn in and snared. Vans, meanwhile, had her wings clipped by the token and her inexperience with this kinky crowd.

When one more good looking man in an imp mask gave her a thoughtful look before then moved on, she put her hand to the token, fully intending to tear it from her shoulder so she could shop for someone to spend some time in the hot tub. She was keyed up and ready to go, standing around nursing a stupid pink drink was bull—

"Hello pretty." The voice was strangely familiar yet also deliciously foreign all wrapped together. She turned to find herself looking up into the azure eyes behind the dragon mask. He looked at her fist closed around the token. "I've kept you waiting I see." He murmured. The accent was all wrong! The southern twang was gone and it wasn't quite like the chauffeur either. This sounded lilting and rolling and she found herself trying to place the dialect. Then she realized this might not be real either!

"Are you fucking with me?" Vans snapped angrily, keeping her hand around the token, more intent on pulling it free now as she realize he the game he was playing with her. Baiting her. Teasing her.

He only smiled, a wicked, hungry flash of very white teeth, gaze sliding down her body. "Not yet." The way he whispered it against her cheek sent a blazing thrill through her. He covered her hand to stop her effors and leaned in closer. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I needed to handle a few things. I admit I was enjoying being your wild, roughneck cowboy. You really did get fired up."

"You're not a cowboy? What the fuck?" She reached out to slap at his shoulder and he laughed, not bothering to stop her, he played with the shoulder strap of her corset when she didn't move away from him.

"I am not a cowboy. I just like dressing like one when I'm working on location. The country music isn't so bad either. God you are beautiful." His knuckle grazed up her collarbones and along her neck towards he jaw. "I've been watching you standing here displaying yourself to every man who will look. Did you think I didn't see you?" He whispered, lips brushing her cheek as his knuckles feathering along her chin, carefully coaxing her chin up. "You're so angry."

She wanted to deny it and say she wasn't but it came out as a growl, just before he kissed her. The leather scent on the mask was very much like the smell of him she remembered from the bookstore and she found herself melting against him, uttering a soft whimper into his mouth as she arched towards him, rubbing against the crisp shirt and jacket, loving the texture of fine wool under her fingertip.

He tasted like nutmeg and cloves, his mouth slow and seductive on her as he began kissing her leisurely with just the press of lips on her mouth before he lured her out. Flicking his tongue tip light against hers at first to draw her towards him. Then he was twining and coiling with her, forceful and greedy. He licked against her upper lip. Then suddenly his arms were around her, lifting her and crushing her to him. One hand covered her ass, the other sank into her hair, his tongue plunged deep into her mouth.

He was much stronger than she expected. She could feel the hard lines of muscles through the suit as she tried to climb up his body, legs wrapping around his trim hips. As she rolled her hips forward to grind against him, his moans vibrating into her, around her tongue that he sucked into his mouth.

The hard cock grinding against her sex made it obvious how long he'd been watching her. Devouring her with those electric blue eyes without her ever knowing. Watching her lose patience waiting for him. She felt the proof of what she'd done to him.

Her moans and soft sighs echoes his and he growled in pleasure. Suddenly he broke the kiss and drew his head back and his eyes met hers, holding her with a fierce satisfaction. "There we go." His big hand squeezed her ass and supported her as he ground against her. "I've wanted to kiss you since I saw you shattering your unworthy vase against the side of the shop. I noticed that my flowers were spared. They met your expectation?" He nuzzled his way to her ear, breath warm and teasing. "Tell me why."

For a moment she couldn't think, the warm rush of breath filling her senses with delicious tingles. "They were beautiful." Her voice cracked and he gripped her ass harder, squeezing until she cried out.

"They were short, stumpy little roses. Tell me why you didn't discard them." He insisted and punctuated the question by taking her ear lobe between his teeth and biting down hard.

Parts of her liquefied! Her heart hammered so hard in her chest and she buried her face into his shoulder as she cried out. Was it pleasure or pain? Pain. Yes. But a golden barb of desire and need spasmed out from the sensation, filling her in places she didn't know existed. She wanted more. She made some incoherent sound and he released her ear and lightly kissed the spot.

"Mmm!! My sweet little queen has a secret." He whispered against her ear. His breath made the skin burn where he's almost broken the skin, thrilling her. "She likes it hard." He crooned at her, "Doesn't she?" Squeezing her ass again until she squeaked and whimpered for more. To which he responded by pinching the inside of her thigh, making her squirm. "I'm going to put you on your feet."

She nodded, vague and feeling fuzzy headed but somehow her knees didn't buckle on her. He kept his arm around her for support, his expression all smug and that damn white smile.

"He, who ever he is, doesn't deserve you." He told her, knuckle nuzzling under her chin to keep her face tilted up to him.

"Oh really?" she asked as he pulled her in tighter against him. "And you think you do?"

"You can answer that at the end of the weekend." He whispered and kissed the tip of her nose.

He led her from the room with his arm still around her, "what would you like to see first? Our rooms? The atrium? The stables?" His eyes twinkled down at her as he posed his question.

"Stables?" She asked, frowning up at him.

"Ah, a woman of good taste. We'll start your education there."

"No, I mean, they have stables?" She didn't resist his guidance though. It didn't matter what they saw first so long as she got to see everything. The lodge was beautiful, decorated in a mixture of Victorian style harvest and winter holiday inspired wreathes and garlands all dripping golden twinkle lights. As they came into another large room with the focal point of a roaring fireplace, crowded with guests. It had been years since she was somewhere nice and nothing nearly to the grandeur here. She drew herself up taller as though that would make her feel less out of place.

"Yes. They are not for real horses anymore, it's all for the pony-play these--"

Someone brushed past them, moving fast, paying no attention to their path in their flight. The person rammed hard against Vans shoulder, knocking her into Dragon. The silvery cloak fluttered as the person ran by. The figure under the cloak was a woman, not quite as tall as Vans, thin except for the augmented breasts almost spilling over her black velvet dress. The dress didn't match the cloak or the mask, it seemed out of place somehow.

Beside her, Dragon growled a warning and the woman glanced over her slim shoulder. "Son of a bitch." He snarled lower. An ethereal owl mask, shined in white with opal and silver filigree, gleamed under the shadow of the hood. The woman behind the mask made a face and pulled the cloak around her more tightly before continuing her run across the room. She almost ran right into another couple standing by the hearth in her haste to leave.

"Stay here a moment. I'll be right back." Dragon squeezed her arm and released her, jogging after the woman in the owl mask.

"Wait—what are you—" She lifted her voice to stop him and conversations around her faded to silence while Dragon didn't bother looking back at her once. He chased after the stranger.

People were looking at her, expression varied from curious to sympathetic. Fuck them. Fuck this asshole just going to run off any other random pussy too. She rubbed furiously at her ear where he'd bitten her, willing the sensation to go away.

Instead of staying there, alone, to be stared at like some freak, she continued her way through the room. Several pairs were happily enjoying their play time. Some almost naked, others using cloaks as cover. One quad spilled over a cozy sofa, busily at work unhooking costume pieces enough to get at each other while not upsetting their masks. No one else in the room cared about their activity, aside from a few hungry looks and encouraging murmurs.

Apparently that was the orgy room. She found herself staring and had to force herself away from an exquisite view of a woman in a star spangled mask getting her pink pussy licked by a horned ram. Well, a man behind a ram mask anyway. There was something primal and animalistic about his licking, as though he couldn't get enough of her. He wore a delicate golden chain around his neck, the end held by the woman's long fingers, pulling him up from his cunnilingus to her mouth, where the pair kissed feverishly.

As Vans moved down a hall past the orgy room, she realized how much she liked this. It felt natural somehow. Even alone, strutting her way past room after room, she liked the way it felt for people to look at her. She toyed with the token, considering taking it off and tossing it away.

Her thoughts were still on the removal of the token when she climbed the main staircase, the banisters trimmed with evergreen, pine cones and glistening cranberry clusters. She heard a familiar voice, the rumble that she remembered insulting her not so long ago. Leo. It sent a rust barb of renewed irritation through her and that spot so recently filled with liquid warmth. The cold of the response was sobering and she pressed herself against the wall to listen without being seen.

"...told you before what I needed."

"You weren't always so black and white. Why does it have to be all or nothing?" A woman's voice, pitched with an exotic accent and instantly she knew it had to be the Queen Bee.

"I tried that with you. For a long time. Neither of us were happy."

"I thought you would enjoy sharing my new play toy together. As I recall, you enjoy that. A lot. And for the Pony races I could harness you together as a team. Ivory and Ebony. I think it would be a crowd pleaser. You certainly know how to please and so does she."

"What about her? Do you think she wants to share you?"

"She'll just have to deal with it. I'm sure she'll be—"

"This is what I'm talking about. You don't ever think about what others want."

"Archer, please. I need you." The woman's voice lowered into a primal, throaty burr of a moan. Vans shivered, certain she could feel the woman's velvety tongue through the shadows that concealed her.

"No you don't. I'm going."

"Come to my room with me Archer. Just for an hour. You don't have a token. No one to sponsor you. No one to care for you like I do. Do you remember how I used to care for you? Do you think anyone could do that for you again?" So confident, the voice husky and heavy with sexual power.
"Do not touch me."

"You don't have a safe word here. No one will hear you. And I can see you want it. Ahh yes! Just as long and hard as I—"

"I said - no." The sound of shuffling feet, the sigh and whisper of fabric and leather and the huffed exhale of irritation filled the silence.

"She is going to be busy all night you know. Your little Owl bitch. I made quite sure of that."

"What?" The question came out like strangled growl from the back of his throat.

"That's right. You think you can replace me with some wanna-be? You think I'm going to let you? Well, she'll be having all her holes filled by some randy frat boys by now I think. Will you still want her after she's been sullied like that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The pudgy Owl you're wasting yourself on."

Vans had heard enough. She remembered the expression of pain on the lovely pink-garbed flamingo's face. The skinny, breasty woman who ran into her in the orgy room wasn't Ursa but she'd been in an owl mask. The owl masked woman who made Vans' date race off after her. She stepped up the stairs and frowned at what she awaited her in the alcove there.

The woman had removed her taffeta and organza skirt, it lay down the hall some distance where she'd obviously been stalking the masked Archer. Her pussy was bare, shaved smooth and the dark skin of her thighs gleamed with the excitement from this particular chase. She had him pressed against the wall and he held her wrists, keeping her from their destination which must have been under his armored skirting. They both jerked a look over at her.

"Well, this is sweet." Vans drawled, putting her fists on her hips.

"This doesn't concern you, slave." Queen Bee hissed and turned back to Leo-Archer, increasing her attempts to get at him. There wasn't anything sexy about the movements. It was all desperation and horrible need. Vans could relate to that. Through the twist of sympathy she felt a chilled, ill sensation of disgust.

"He doesn't want you." Vans snapped. "Let him go."

The distraction allowed Leo to twist away and shove the Bee from him. He obviously did it with care, not wanting to harm her. He managed to twist himself free, the movement graceful for a man his size. Spinning deftly, he hopped back onto the balls of his feet to put distance between himself and Queen Bee. Vans thought he'd fall for sure, but he moved so fast, light as a dancer.

"Fuck!" Bee snarled, trying once more to grab onto him but he was too quick, still moving back before Vans threw herself in the woman's path. Bee's eyes burned with dark fire and she lunged forward with furious squeal grabbing Vans' token. The attached ribbon ripped right off with a loud pop.

Vans jerked her hand back and swung at her lovely face. The sound her palm made across her cheek rang through the upper hallway and downstairs voices stilled and a clap went up from the merry makers who must have heard the impact. She balled up her fist and poised it to swing next if the woman didn't back down.

"I said leave him alone. Next time, it's going to be knuckles on that pretty face you crazy bitch."

Archer's face looked grim, his skin slick and Vans imagined the woman licking at him, or worse, smeared herself all over him. Or, perhaps tears ran down his face behind the mask. His shoulders shook with barely restrained emotions but his voice came out hard. "You are out of your fucking mind. This is low, even for you. Especially for you!"

His words shamed the Bee, as though she suddenly realized what she'd been doing thanks to Vans slapping sense into her. Vans remained blocking her way to him, daring her to try anything. With distance between them, rational thought returned to the woman. Bee threw her hands to her face, eyes going round behind the ornate curves of the mask. "Oh."

"I /do/ have a fucking safe word." Vans told her. She wasn't sure what good it would be in an empty hall where no one could see, but she heard fast footsteps racing up the hall from the direction of the pile of the discarded skirting.

Bee's head fell forward and she sank down to her knees as though the shock were too great and covered her eyes. Just then the suited and masked doormen swept in. They were not taking any chances it seemed, armed with tasers and billy cubs. There must be cameras around to catch such activity in these back corners. Or, they were just lucky?

Vans regarded the Archer who looked horrified through his haze of anger and shock. Distantly she thought this should make her feel satisfied and smug, but she only felt bad for the guy. And what of Ursa? She frowned at him, his lack of a key or a token. He was here fishing for sex while playing Ursa? She shook her head at him.

"You're an asshole doing this to Ursa." She hissed at him, keeping her voice pitched for his ears only. Her finger poked into his sweaty chest. He stunk of pussy and her imagination filled in for what was going on before she walked up. "Don't you dare play her this way or hurt her." She ignored the nagging reminder that she had done more harm to Ursa than anyone.

Stupid conscience. Stupid guilt. Stupid moral compass.

When had she developed that? She acted no better than Bee and sometimes worse in the past few weeks. She felt wretched.

"Miss." One of the doormen said in disapproval. "Keep your hands to yourself right now."

Vans snorted and held her hands up, palms showing, "Whatever. You're doing a real bang-up job keeping people safe. Happy Holidays assholes." She flipped them off, all of them; from the super-troupers in tuxes, to the Bee and Archer. Fuck them all. Then she shouldered by Archer and stomped down the hall in the direction the doormen had come.

She walked up another floor and found a quiet spot by a bay window empty of people. No one was trying to force anyone or planning their pain here. Was Ursa hurt somewhere? Vans had been part of harming the woman. She was Ursa's friend, wasn't she? The past few weeks had been a poisonous whirlwind of jealousy. Ursa had always been nothing but nice to her.

Her 'date' was running after some other woman and would likely be busy for the rest of the night. She felt a twisting in her chest at the thought, eyes burning and vision blurring. It was a sex party. What did she expect? Romance? Love? That sort of thing wasn't in the cards for a girl like her.

'Face it Charles, you fucked up.' she told herself.

Her heart was so heavy, her legs didn't seem strong enough to support its weight. There were two chairs on either side of a small table looking over the illuminated gardens.her hands over her face, pushing the mask up. She didn't feel like hiding anymore. It was time to go home. Through the colorful beams of light, fat, white snowflakes spun and swirled down to earth. The shadowy landscape was coated in white.

She sank into one of the plush seats and crossed her arms over her chest. The token was missing. She relived the vivid memory of Bee ripping if off and scrubbed

As she watched the beautiful snow, she broke into tears and curled herself into the chair as much as she could with the uncomfortable corset. Despite the awkwardness, as the grief faded, she drifted to sleep.

She startled awake when a warm hand closed over her shoulder and came to full wakefulness swinging. Her knuckles slammed into something solid and a grunt of pain rewarded her efforts.

"Whoa! Easy your Highness!" Dream and panic melted away and memories fluttered down like the snowflakes beyond the window. Dragon-Cowboy-Chauffeur-Lady's_man. She hated how the reference to royalty made her think of the Queen Bee's actions. She was both relieved, and furious, to see him.

"Stop calling me that. Leave me alone." She jerked to her feet, mask clattering to the floor at her feet and faced off with him. He was still wearing his mask but she could see from the set of his mouth and the gleam in his eyes that he was pissed. "What's wrong? Did she give you blue balls?"

"What? Hell no! I have been searching for you! Why didn't you stay like I told you? I was worried something happened."

"Because I don't do well getting bossed around while my date goes chasing tail. Worried something might happen to me? Like I might get raped at this 'consensual' party? Yeah, real nice bunch of friends you keep."

His jaw flexed and the blue of his eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the alcove. "I was trying to help my friends. I'm sorry I wasn't able to satisfy you or explain before I left but it was important, his lady was hurt and someone stole her mask, that's who I went after, the woman in the owl mask. No one would dare put a hand on you with my..." He noticed her lack of token, the torn leather on the sleeve of the bodice and what she assumed must have been a horrible tearful mess of her face. A the look of fury that blazed in her eyes left her breathless. "Are you alright? Did anyone...."

"I'm fine."

His hands reached for her, cupping her face, smoothing thumbs down her cheeks and all hope that he wouldn't notice the tears died as his lips went white. "Sweetheart." He said it with such emotion, she felt a twisting pang in her ribs and lifted her hands to cup his.

"Don't." She warned him, closing her eyes, she couldn't stand the laser focus of his eyes right now.

"Tell me what happened." Demanding but the edge of his voice remained soft as he eased into the seat, pulling her with him.

"You don't want to know. Fuck. I fucked up. This is all so fucked up." She wasn't sure just what to say. She trembled against his chest as he tucked her into his lap. He didn't smell like sex. Instead he smelled of leather and warmth and faintly of cloves like the taste of his kisses.

"I want to know everything."

Throat tight, she hesitated but he stroked her hair until she began talking. She told him about Leo and her unexpected jealousy and admitted to foiling Ursa's flower deliveries from him. The lies she told and attempts to ruin things between the pair followed. She explained the scene in the foyer before he arrived and her coming up the steps to discover the Archer and Queen Bee. Ending on how her token was ripped off before the doormen stormed in like guards to mop up the mess, her tears left her weak and broken. Why was she telling this stranger all of this?

He listened to everything, smoothing his hand through her hair sitting very still. "I know about the flowers." He said softly and his arm squeezed around her. His cheek pressed against the crown of her head and he blew out a breath and the tightness eased from him. "I am very good friends with the man you call Archer. I also know his lady. He mentioned how she never said anything about the very elaborate rose arrangements he'd been sending to her work. 'Blushing Opals' are the color of those particular extra long stems. Or, so he claims. I know he calls her 'Princess'. I know he adores her more than sunshine and oxygen. And-—I know a particular clerk at the store was upset over him."

"You were playing me?" She asked, her grief still so heavy the shock did not reach the anger register in her reaction.

"No. I came by on my way from a job site and happened on you. Saw these particular exquisite pink flowers being stomped to pulp and then witnessed you." His big hands smoothed along her hip, squeezing to still her from saying anything more as he continued. "I didn't intend to do more than flirt with you. But you have such fire and spunk. I have been drawn in despite myself. Just now, I expected you to lie to me but--."

She gnawed at her knuckle as she bowed her head down. "I have no reason to lie. I've been a complete cunt lately. I—I'm not used to..."

"Not being the center of attention? Yes, I noticed this." He murmured against her temple, hands stroking along her leg to squeeze her outer thigh, rolling his thumb against her flesh. "You're also jealous and manipulative and selfish."

"Am I going to get a spanking?" She asked around the knuckle between her teeth.

His finger nudged her chin, bringing her face up to his and his expression was amused. "Also a brat? Fucking lord, I am doomed."

The smile wouldn't come to her lips and his azure eyes burning behind the flare of green dragon wings on his mask. "Only very good girls gets spankings." He said seriously. "My good friend's lady got roughed up on her way inside. The woman who ran into us took everything she had on her. Mask, cloak, invitation and cards. This woman was also a friend of mine before—'things' happened."

Things. When she squirmed, he brushed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to brush her hand from her lips.

"No, jealous one. A situation of sportsmanship and a playmate not suitable for my temperament. Even though she has been removed from the House along with Queen Bee, there are people here who are still their friends and I want you to be on guard. I admit that I have played games with you but I'm not playing them now. You have been refreshingly honest with me—I should be with you as well."

He continued to stroke her thigh and she found herself softening against him, letting her legs slowly open under the warmth of his touch. "You're not going to have me pack and go home?" She asked quietly.

His eyes gleamed and a sudden smile pulled at his full lips. "No. I only request you make nice with our mutual friends. Or, tell me if you are not friends with them and we will keep our distance. They are—going through a very rough time right now. It's been a complete cluster-fuck for them today."

Vans kissed the finger that brushed across her lips. She could only imagine. "Is she alright?" She asked very softly.

"She just got some scuffs. I think she's more twisted up emotionally. Like he is. Apparently you were really ruthless with her all day too."

"She is my friend. I just wanted...I wanted..." She found herself unable put it to words. At first she thought she wanted Leo, but no, it wasn't that. "I want...."

"What do you want Precious?" He asked when she'd lapsed into a miserable, guilt twisted silence.

All the endless needs and years of denied goals and frustrations pulsed through her veins.

"Flowers? Jewels? A yacht in the bay? Ponies? A house in France?"

She couldn't tell if he was teasing her and she wriggled against him in protest, "Stop...stop!" she breathed, pushing slightly so she could look at him through his mask.

He regarded her in silence, expectant.

"I want something real." She said quietly.

She still couldn't read his expression behind his mask. Without speaking he bent forward to scoop up her discarded mask and handed it to her. "Put this on and lets go to our rooms."

She put it on and he swept her into his arms and removed a token from his pocket and affixed it to her shoulder with a smile before standing, gathering her into his arms and against his chest.

He carried her through the quiet house. They passed very few visitors. Guests were either sleeping or playing elsewhere in the house, out of sight. Down a different set of stairs and along a hall that lead to a private door. Outside the door he adjusted her in his arms, shushing her softly as she squirmed and managed to get the door open without putting her down.

Inside, the room was as lavish as the rest of the house.

The moment the door swung closed, he set her down and pulled his mask off, tossing it onto the marble bar top to smile down at her.

His hair, which previously hid under his hat gleamed like white gold, short and spiky from the mask he'd worn. His face was clean, shaved and bronzed from the sun, the azure of his eyes startling while he avidly watched her drink him in. Realization hit her and she fumbled to tear her own mask off, laying it over his.

"No more games I think." He murmured, unbuttoning his jacket slowly, holding her gaze. "I'm Travis Conte. I work for Adler Enterprises. I—"

"You don't have to tell me." She told him, captivated as he stripped out of the tux jacket and gracefully lay it over the sofa. He walked backwards, playing fingers in his bow tie and she found herself following, though she didn't remove her clothes.

"I know I don't have to, but you asked for real. Here it is. I don't come here trolling for sex. I come here to play very hard with girls who enjoy pain. We don't meet outside here. I like pony-girls but not exclusively pony-girls." He lowered his voice, husky and playful, "I broke one of my own no-kissing rules right away with you. You are just too bratty to resist. If we do have sex, there will be condoms. I don't like to share. I'm selfish, greedy and demanding."

The way he paused, tie sliding out of the collar of his shirt with one golden eyebrow poised up, she could see he wanted her to respond in kind. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"I'm Vanderbilt Charles, I work at a book store, as a clerk." She told him with a cocky smirk that he mirrored. "I have no idea if I like pain or—"

"I think we tested it out pretty nicely earlier." He murmured to her, wrapping the tie around his knuckles.

The memory of his bite to her ear and the way it inflamed her desire left her breathless. The cold sensation from earlier melted away under his intense gaze. "Would you like to try more?"

"Yes."

The breathless quality of her voice made his eyes lid heavily and he groaned. When he began on the buttons of his shirt, she stepped forward and grabbed the front and deftly pulled the top one open. The first one parted and his arms slid around her, bowing forward.

"I might be forced to fuck you if you get me too hot and bothered." He warned her and she scraped a finger down his chest making him shiver in pleasure.

"Good!" She whispered and when she tipped her head up to meet his lust filled eyes, his mouth covered hers. The fire of him burned through her. Heat of passion, need, desire all enveloping and tearing through her like nothing she'd experienced before. More than the skill of his tongue and mouth on hers but the savage power in him, the way he claimed her, thrusting his tongue into her, fucking her mouth.

Fingers spasmed on his shirt and she tore several buttons in her blind need to have his naked skin exposed to her. His skin was so hot too, hard and sculpted under her palm. Against her skin she could feel the pounding of his heart, it echoed through her, a sensation she could feel along the roof of her mouth that lanced straight into her pussy.

He broke the kiss, dragging his mouth down her jaw and throat, pressing his teeth against the side of her neck. Her knees buckled with the intensity of the pleasure driving through her and he swept her up, crushing her into his chest as he licked the spot he'd kissed. His bright eyes gleamed as he looked at her, "You know to tell me your limits. Right?"

As he asked and she nodded, his skillful fingers pulled at the laces of her corset.

"I don't want you pushing too hard. It's not a contest. You only do what you want. Understand?" He spoke against her neck between the kisses he moved along her flesh.

"Yes." She agreed, voice splintering. Pressing her hands against his broad chest, she ducked her head and gazed at the golden hairs under her fingers and the solid muscles. "Mushroom?" She asked.

His shoulders trembled with a silent laugh, "I hate them. Nothing is likely to cool my passion more than Mushrooms. You understand? I could really hurt you unless you communicate with me." He murmured as his fingers pushed down the corset, exposing her and as he bared her, the electric blue of his eyes tingled over her, drinking her in like she'd never been admired before. The intensity in him made her stomach tighten without him even needing to touch her. His breath whispered over her breast making her nipples tighten.

The prospect of the danger made her yearn towards him but he didn't let her, rocking away from her and lightly holding her back with the hands that settled on her hips. "Vanderbilt." He spoke her name slowly, testing it out and in the haughty accent and with the growl on the 'R', she felt a thrill spike through her.
"Vans." She corrected him but he pressed a finger to her lip.

"Do not correct me girl."

Her first instinct was to tell him where to shove his chauvinistic attitude but then he pinched her lower lip and she felt her knees melt as she rocked unsteadily on her feet. "Yes." She whimpered and squeezed her eyes closed, shuttering out his vivid azure eyes.

"Good girl."

The ease in the pain followed by praise sent a irrational thrill through her and as he eased her back towards the bed, she went without resistance. When her fingers trailed down to his belt, he made a very small sound in the negative but pulled her skirt off with a soft rumble of appreciation to her exposed body as she stepped out of the layers of silk, leaving it behind.

Her heart was racing by the time he got her to the bed and lightly pushed her into the plush white comforter. When she looked up, she felt her breath catch at the confident smile curling his mouth, dimpling one cheek. What did he have in mind for her? What was she doing? Why did she like this so much? What was wrong with her? She was going to let him hurt her?

As though he could see the doubt on her face he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, "I won't do anything you don't like. I can see you're questioning all of this. Should I leave you to process this?"

The question processed slowly and she at last gave a shake of her head, "No. I just don't know what you have planned for me." Looking away from him, she took in the bedroom. The room was decorated lavishly with a marble fireplace and candles everywhere twinkling and glittering in the darkness of the room. The crystal chandelier over the bed was strewn with mistletoe.

"Lets see—I was thinking of starting with laying you face down and spanking your ass until it glows like a Hawaiian sunset. Since you seemed so interested in that earlier. For my pleasure, not for any punishment. You understand?"

She frowned and gave a little shake of her head, trying to wrap her head around it.

He brushed a knuckle along her chin, tipping her face to him, "Look at me." She forced herself to look into his face, feeling a quavering thrill in her stomach. He was so handsome and the steely expression lacked all his usual cocky warmth. It was terrifying and delicious. Her confidence quavered under the weight of his. He didn't even smile. "You're not in trouble. When I hurt you, it's because I love seeing you suffer and writhe. It's because I know you love being broken. It's not because you're bad and need to repent for anything." He waited and asked quietly, "Understand?"

Blushing, she nodded, "I think I get it."

"And, you're not wrong for enjoying being shattered into little pieces." He motioned to her and made a swirling movement with his finger. "Lay on your belly Vanderbilt. Stretch your hands above your head and do not move them. You can hold onto the headboard or make fists but do not cover your ass. Do you understand me?"

"Travis I..."

"You may call me 'Sir'." He said with an imperious arch of one golden eyebrow. He said it like he were bestowing her a grand honor. It made her pride crackle and she felt her shoulders tightening, ready to fly into his face. Only, there was no room for argument in his brilliant blue eyes, only the command and ultimate confidence that she would do as he ordered.

She hesitated, gritting her teeth but her hunger for him only doubled as he smoothed his big hands together, watching her response as though he were calculating her every unspoken thought. As though he could read her mind.

"Yes Sir."

His eyes half lidded in a feline-like pleasure and again he motioned with his finger, stirring it around in the air to silently reiterate his earlier command.

Her body responded without her conscious effort, turning to face the bed and she crawled up onto the soft comforter, offering him a view of her tight backside and thighs as she prowled over the bed and laid down. He didn't make a sound, either in appreciation for her sensual show or approval. A glance over her shoulder gave her no clue as to his inner thoughts. His expression remained as unreadable as stone. He reached for her ankle and pulled her down the bed towards him. "Look at the fire." He instructed, voice a demanding snarl.

Gooseflesh danced up her spine and she failed to remain still as the thrill spiked through her. Oh God! Fucking God! He was going to spank her! Hundreds of thoughts jumbled in her head, doubts and desires all balling together in a heart-thundering storm. She turned her face away and looked at the blaze in the fire and just as she focused on the flames, the first crack of his palm landed on her ass.

The sharp sting slid down her legs and up her spine and a warmth bloomed in her, jolting her and making her gasp. It wasn't very hard, the sound more shocking than the impact. The next landed on the other cheek and the following spanks alternated each cheek until she lost count. The sensation of pain blended into heat and then into pleasure and she found herself arching her ass upward towards his strokes, his steady rhythm unfailing. The fire crackled and popped and she moaned when one hand suddenly grasped her ass cheek and squeezed while his other hand rained down open-palmed strokes.

She spread her thighs wider and arched towards the spanks and he rewarded her by squeezing her ass harder. She could feel his fingernails digging into her skin and turned her mouth into the bedding to muffle her scream of pleasure.

"Don't hide your cries. Let me hear them!" He snarled and struck again and again.

She spasmed and jerked under the harder spanks and screamed aloud for more. More. Harder! Her toes curled with delight and need! The pain was delicious but she needed more! Suddenly his finger slid into her pussy and she felt her orgasm shudder through her. Raw and unexpected, a gush of her pleasure to go with the pain throbbing through her.

She felt like a live-wire, thrashing under his strikes and her sex clutched on the finger that curved up into her. A single finger, quickly dipping in and out of her silken folds.

"Harder?" He asked, his voice seeming distant from her climax and from the spanking.

"Yes! Yes Sir! Please!"

The finger in her pussy slipped away, the hand gripping her ass left and she heard the sigh of leather and fabric and knew he'd removed his belt. He continued to spank with his open hand and let her feel the cool leather slide down her spine from the nape of her neck to her burning hot ass cheek.

When the belt came down, she lurched forward with a bark of shock and a new height of pain at the kiss of leather connecting with her. It lit her up and made her try to scramble forward before another lick of the belt lit up the other cheek, replacing his open palm.

It took a real effort not to put her hands over her ass and she gripped the pillows, mewling out a protest. Tears sprang to her eyes as she squirmed under the blows from the belt. Again and again and—she felt her pussy squeezing and her lust blooming through her with every slap.

He stopped suddenly, without the sound of the leather snapping against her ass, she could hear his steady, rumbling breaths behind her. She quivered and thrashed, swinging her hips back and forth. Her ass felt like it was on fire! Down her thighs and up the small of her back too where he's applied several skillful licks to her. And yet, it wasn't enough! She shuddered and moaned, rubbing her tearful face on the bedding.

"More?" He growled, smoothing a hand down her shoulder, squeezing.

Moaning out her answer she arched her hips. Yes! She was certain she said yes!

"Vanderbilt?" He crooned at her.

"Yes Sir! Yes! More! Please more!" She whimpered and jerked her ass up higher, displaying herself, spreading her legs without a care that she was acting so slutty. She wanted more of the burning hot belt against her ass.

"Such a good girl." He whispered, his voice a rough snarl. "Keep your hips up. Just like that sweetheart." He pet his finger down the crack of her ass to her pussy, plunging a finger in once before slipping it down to her clit.

She spread her thighs wider, crooning and rocking towards him but he'd already removed his hand. For a moment, nothing happened. She felt so hot, overstimulated and needy and he wasn't there. She kept her eyes on the fire, realizing dimly that the flames were lower, licking across the blackened wood.

When the belt came down again, it landed harder than all the others, connecting with a particularly aching spot and she let out a sharp cry of protest, gripping the pillows and biting into the bedding as her hips hunched forward, trying to avoid the next blow. She wasn't fast enough, the snap of leather caught the fleshy underside of her ass and she writhed away from the blaze.

And it was perfect! Through the agony she felt her lust trickle down the inside of her thighs. She heard him moan over the impact of the belt. Again and again he spanked her, now seeming to want to find that limit in her. She wanted to find the center of it too! The sensation flowered through her, overwhelming and sweet but she wanted more! Her backside glowed like the embers in the fire! She burned hot, pushed and pushed and—she shuddered and groaned, arching towards the next downswing and heard him suck in a shocked breath when the leather bit into her ass.

"Fuck!" he snarled and she heard the belt drop with a clatter. His body pressed against her hips and thighs, his heated skin stinging all the long welts the leather made on her.

"Mooorrre." She snarled and bucked against him, desperate for the harder contact, needing to feel it biting against her eager flesh. As she arched backward, she felt his naked cock against her cleft. Hard and scalding hot against her ass and then suddenly he shoved into her, pushing her forward into the bed, pinning her with his weight. A hand sunk into her hair, gripping painfully as he fucked into her.

He felt huge, smearing her greedy pussy impossibly wide around him. The fat girth of him plunging in without any sort of teasing but she was frothy with her need. He was balls deep and grinding in as she pushed back into him, feeling him bruising her, tearing her.

More. More! "Harder!" She begged him, throat raw from her screaming. He pulled her head back by the hair and the other hand slid along her belly and up her breasts, pulling her back and into his chest. Everything burned and stung as he pressed her against him, sitting her up. The world spun around as he jerked his hips, slamming harder into her.

He stretched her creamy walls, the violent union splitting her wider. Heavy balls slapped her whipped ass, harder than the belt, repeatedly taking her. His mouth closed over the side of his neck and his teeth pressed into her, biting hard.

She came furiously around him, screaming out "SIR!" As she shattered into pieces around him. The force of her climax soaked his balls and his thighs as he pulled her back into him, pinching her nipple as she came apart. The whole world might have exploded it felt so fucking good. His tongue filled her mouth as he continued to take her, his moans and snarls vibrating against her as they kissed.

He tasted salty and spicy, like the most erotic candy she'd ever known! He arched behind her, his body suddenly taut, every muscle corded and held still before he uttered a throaty roar against her lips. He came so hard, she could feel his huge cock throbbing and swelling as his cum gushed from him. Filling her. Soaking her. She whimpered and ground herself against him, wanting to have it all as deep in her as she could. She slid her hand up, sliding over his sweaty neck and wet face to his hair, securing handful of the short, golden locks to keep him kissing her.

They kissed for a very long time like that. His hand cupping her breast, his other in her hair, her body bowed back towards him as her thighs stretched around his and her ass nuzzled his stomach. HIs cock stayed hard inside her, pulsing with their shared heartbeat.

At last he broke the kiss, nipping her lower lip as he shifted behind her. "Careful sweetheart." He whispered and released his tangled fingers from her hair, helping ease her back into the bed. "That's a good girl. A perfect girl."

His face sweaty and slick, his eyes glowing with pleasure and desire when she looked over her shoulder at him. His big hands that were so skillful at hurting her were gentle now as he guided her into the bed and slid out of her. He was wearing a condom she saw, and he held the base of his cock as he slowly slipped out of her and rolled off the bed.

She felt raw and empty.

He left her on the bed to pad into the bathroom and she heard the water running.

Empty.

She curled around herself, hugging her knees.

What had she just done? Her body buzzed with pleasure but she felt adrift and horribly alone in the huge bed. She'd never felt so wonderful and so devastated at the same time. The fire was gone now, leaving only faded red coals in the bottom of the fireplace and several candles had gone out. Part of her still burned too, a private, lonely flame in her chest. Curling into herself more, she felt the tears come again, blurring the vision of the fire.

"Baby—" His voice rumbled low and his hands smoothed over her shoulders. "I'm right here."

"You left!" She accused brokenly as he pulled her unresisting into his arms and hid her face in his warm chest.

"Baby, I didn't leave you. I had to get you a warm towel." And to demonstrate, he lay the heated towel over her backside and adjusted her in his arms, "Careful Vanderbilt. I was too rough with you. I'm so sorry."

She uttered a soft moan at the contact of the wet towel and cuddled into the circle of his arms, breathing in the spicy, leather scent along his neck and smiled. "You weren't. It was so good." Her voice felt far away as the fear she'd been left alone slowly ebbed away. "You didn't leave me."

He laughed and tipped her chin up but she couldn't meet his eyes, she felt her blush burning her cheeks at the electric blue fire in his gaze. "Not leaving." The smile faded slightly, "You sure you're alright? You're not just being brave?"

Vans let her eyes close and leaned up to kiss him softly. "I /am/ brave, but no—I ....that was amazing. Fuck—Sir."

He growled and caught her lower lip between his teeth. He didn't apply pressure there but caressed the tip of his tongue along her skin before releasing her. "You're a wicked girl Precious!"

She smiled up at him, eyelids too heavy to reopen and nodded her head.

He rumbled in pleasure and covered the back of her head with his huge hand and coaxed her face back to his chest. He said something but her head was too far into the clouds to hear him. She slipped into sleep before he could even get her under the blankets and didn't wake until morning.

Nov 21, 2015

Snow was falling when she woke. Outside the huge window, the lazy flakes danced and swirled down to the ground. She felt surrounded in puffy softness too and realized that she lay alone in the huge bed and a pang of sadness plucked against her ribs. Rolling onto her side, she noticed that the other side of the bed didn't look sleep in at all. More disappointment swept over her.

A single red rose lay on the pillow at the other side of the bed, tied with a red ribbon. Cute.

"Don't be stupid Charles, of course he wasn't going to sleep with you. He beat the shit out of you and then went to sleep off his buzz in some other room. Do you think he was Prince Charming?"

Actually, she sort of did. At least she wished it, if she could be honest with herself. The hard play from the night before stripped her of any of her delusions. She wanted that guy and she wanted him to be brutal and kind and dirty and cruel and cocky all I one tangled package. The fact that he'd not cuddled her all night came as a blow.

Sighing, she sat up, breath catching. The pain from the spanking was real. Without the pleasure attached to it, the sensation was almost too much. She carefully climbed out of bed, pushing the blankets away and was shocked to see the blood streaks against the white bedding.

Great.

Everything hurt. Particularly walking. Each step a reminder of just how hard he'd fucked her. God Damn. She really liked it. Even though it made her think of him, reinforcing the fact that she clearly wrapped more emotion behind it than the man did. Sir Fucks-a-lot. Sure, he 'said' he didn't troll for pussy here, but he certainly knew his way around one. No way she was buying this wasn't his regular routine. Spank a girl until she was wet and then dip his wick. What number pussy was she?

Brilliant Charles.

She flipped the light on in the bathroom and startled at the mirror.

"Good Morning Your Highness. If you're reading this, it means I didn't make it back in time. Please enjoy a long soak in the bath. I will return shortly. Do not leave the suite without me or there will be NO repeat spankings. ~ Sir."

"Fuckity Fuck." Vans hissed and read the message in lipstick a few times before tearing her eyes away. She demanded her heart stop skipping around in her ribs and when it wouldn't obey, went to fill the tub with water.

Her backside was a network of welts with several spots cross-crossed where the skin had broken. She remembered how she'd arched into the last stroke of the belt with a shiver of pleasure and touched the worst of the marks, a bloody line across her cheek and hip.

The welts stung as she eased into the water but once in, the warmth eased the worst so it was only an ache rather than blazing agony. Maybe she should have used that safe word. The thought made her smirk and she pressed into the welt on her hip as she eased into the tub. Hell no. This was worth it. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers trace the marks, probing each hot spot, trying to remember when she'd received each one.

"Hey beautiful."

She looked up from fingering the welts to find the man in the Dragon mask leering at her. Dressed again in his tux, the man looked huge, intimidating and fierce.

Her mouth went dry and she couldn't speak. Her throat refused to work as her heart nuzzled up into it.

"Holy-fucking-shit. I've rendered you speechless?" He grinned at her and offered out a cup, pretending to be intimidated about it. "I c-c-come with c-coffee....Ladyship."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck YOU." He growled and stepped in, offering the cup to her. "Precious."

She took the drink and motioned with her hand for him to join her, smirking. "A shame you're all dressed up and look too pretty to rumple. Asshole."

He grinned and rolled up one shoulder, sipping from his own coffee. "Yeah. Real shame."

For a moment, the electric sexual energy sparkled between them. Both drinking coffee in silenct, watching each other over the top of their cups. She wanted him to come to her and let her pull him into the bath with her. She wanted him to scrub her clean. She wanted him! Dragon was a better player at this game. After letting her see his passion and need for her in those stunning eyes, he closed down. "Soap up your pussy baby. I want you nice and clean to start today so I can see how fucking wrecked I can get you later."

She almost dropped her cup and despite trying to cover it, he saw and winked behind the mask before slipping out of the room.

"Asshole!" She called after him.

"It's Sir Asshole to you girl."

Her smile widened and she sunk into the hot water up to her nose, struggling not to giggle like a child. This man was perfect and he knew it. He was going to devastate her. A part of her screamed that she should run. Another part demanded she stay. Nothing this good would ever come along before and she wasn't going to let her chance slip by her.
Enjoying the coffee, something without pumpkin spice thank God, she spent extra time in the bath. Sure, in part it was to relax her muscles and sooth herself but she also wanted to see if he would come back in to check on her. He didn't.

Asshole!

She finished the coffee before it and the bath water got cold, finished washing up and climbed out of the tub, wrapping in a towel before she shuffled out to the main room. Dragon sat just outside the bathroom door, fingers steepled under the savage jaws of his dragon mask. His long, powerful legs stretched out before him crossed at the ankles. Still fully dressed in his jacket and bow tie perfect, he looked like a warlord in a suit. It was the eyes that made her stop in her tracks though. The brilliant azure blazed with an emotion she feared to name. Her heart twirled around in her ribs.

He crooked his finger towards her to summon her forward and exposed one side of his mouth, his full lips quirked into a smile. "Towel off." He instructed with a soft voice.

For half a heartbeat she hesitated and then let the towel fall from her dewy body and took a slow step towards him.

"Turn." He instructed, holding her gaze.

How in the world had she thought he was ugly before? It had to be the layers of dirt that disguised him.

With all the grace she could muster, she turned on the balls of her feet, trying to recall the ancient ballet classes. It must have agreed with him because he rumbled with a sound of pleasure for her effort, she felt his warm breath against her hip and then a soft hiss of breath escaped him.

"Well, I think I got carried away last night." He said, voice low, "I should have had more control."

"But I wanted—"

He put a finger to one of the welts and pressed and she sucked in a breath.

"I never should have broken the skin here. That was bad form. I got carried away. You were—fuck you ARE amazing." He kissed the small of her back, lips warm against her. "Tell me pet, did I frighten you?"

"No Sir."

"Tell me your thoughts."

She hesitated and was glad she didn't have to meet his eyes right now. Instead she stared into the steamy bathroom at the words he left for her.

His lips brushed against her welted ass, so softly, his breath warming her skin. He let her wrestle with her thoughts and reflections, not intruding.

"I think last night was the most erotic night of my life. I don't know about control or not, but I loved it. I want more of that."

He didn't speak right away, instead he kissed the other ass cheek. At length he asked, "would you like everyone to see these marks today?"

That made her look over her shoulder at him and he smirked up at her and leaned back into his chair, lacing fingers behind the nape of his neck. "What did you have in mind?"

"A anal plug with a horse tail and a chastity belt." He answered without a flicker of embarrassment. "Maybe nipple clamps to go with this pretty harness I have for my Faery Queen."

"Don't call me that." She snapped without thinking.

One eyebrow arched up and he dropped his arms, reaching for her, turning her around as his hands closed on her hips. He peered up at her, long fingers squeezing her hips. "What's this? Don't you like being my Queen?"

"It reminds me of that — person—in the Bee outfit and her stupid fucking crown and—no, I'm no Queen. I am not anything like that. I was a stupid idiot and I made a mistake but...I'm not like her."

"Ah." He smiled slowly and pulled her closer to him, widening his thighs so she stood between them.

She lifted a hand and stroked the leather of the mask and then down over his jaw. "Yeah." She said quietly.

"I think you need to talk with your friend Vanderbilt."

She shivered in pleasure at the way he said her name.

He flashed a gleam of teeth, "With the butt plug in, crawling on your hands and knees, showing off that well spanked ass. At least you won't have to sit down."

"I don't do ass sex." She said primly.

"Who said anything about sex? I don't think I'm putting out for the rest of the weekend." He leaned in and kissed her navel where she wore a lucky horseshoe and shamrock in her belly button. His brows furrowed. "Don't like horses huh?"

For a moment she was caught up with the concept that they might not have sex again and then focused on his question. "What? Well, I just—I have bad memories regarding horses." She scowled when he watched her expectantly and closed her eyes. "It's ancient history. Alright? Before my parents got divorced, I took Polo lessons and even after they split it used to be tradition for father to take me to lessons and afterward we would do some father-daughter crap. When my father re-married, his new wife put a stop to that right quick and in a hurry. My mother was delighted I didn't spend time with him and threw herself into the effort to keep me away. The Christmas pony I was supposed to get? Turned out to be a stupid stuffed dust collector." She tipped her head and glared at him, accusingly for making her air the painful memories. "Happy?"

He frowned, drawing himself to his feet and quite suddenly pulled her in and kissed her. It was not the heated fierceness like the night before, this had emotion behind it. He pulled off his mask and cupped her face in his hands as he coaxed her lips open with his tongue and wrestled himself into her, filling her with his taste and his heat.

"Vanderbilt-—I am never happy when you hurt like this." He spoke against her lips and held her eyes.

Except she couldn't handle that direct, honest expression in his eyes. She'd dreamed of someone looking at her that way and now that she had it, it terrified her! "Fuck." She growled and pushed at his careful hold, tears making everything too bright. "What do you care?"

He didn't release her, even when she struck his chest and thrashed in his warm embrace. "I care Precious baby, because despite your efforts, or maybe because of them, I'm falling for you."

"You didn't even know my name before last night!"

"The heart wants what the heart wants."

"You sound like a fucking pop song! Let go of me. Fucking let go asshole." She hit him again but uselessly, feeling the tears overpower her and weaken her.

"Are you using your safe word? Do you seriously want me to leave you alone right now? I don't want to leave you." He held her carefully, not releasing her but not pulling her in against him, just letting her struggle against her own emotions.

She broke down against his chest and he lifted her into his arms and settled back into the chair, carefully drawing her into his lap, rocking her and soothing her with soft kisses until she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't leave me."

"Of course not, you silly Brat." He nuzzled her neck and let out a huge breath. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not comfortable with the suddenness of these emotions either, but I told you I'm not playing games and so I want to be honest with you. I trust you will be honest with me too. We're both adults. If you want this to be a no-strings thing we're doing, I want to know about it because—damn it woman, I am not feeling no-strings on my end."

"Then why didn't you sleep with me last night?"

He drew his head back and stared at her, hard, "I did sleep with your bratty ass, but your snoring woke me up and I went to get coffee."

She ignored his jab at her snoring and poked his chest with a finger, "The other side of the bed didn't look slept in."

"Because I was wrapped as tight around you as I could. Brat, of course I slept with you." He paused, "you thought I went all the way into the other room and slept alone instead of feeling your silken beauty all night? You are out of your beautiful mind."

She sniffled quietly and started to laugh very softly into his chest.

"Stop making this hard Brat." He murmured into her hair and she felt his smile in her curls as he breathed in the clean smell of her shampoo. "This has got to be as scary for me as it is for you. Lets just enjoy this free fall together? Know that I want to see where this leads and I'm not playing games."

She sighed, wiping her eyes, blushing and heart skipping around inside her, loose. "No games." She agreed. "And I'd like to apologize to my friend. In whatever getup you please."

He stood, lifting her and setting her on her feet. "Alright, on all fours on the bed. I'll get your gear." The gleam in his eyes promised a new world of delights that she could only dream at and with her heart hammering, she walked to the bed and climbs up. Memories of the night before flashed through her mind as she waited for him to return to her.

He sat on the bed beside her with a large box and smiled at her as he drew open the lid to show off what looked like a tangle of bright green and blue leather straps to match her corset. "How brave are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling kinda shaky." She admitted, watching him draw out the arrangement of straps, the buckles and bells jingling lightly.

"Humiliation play hot for you at all?" He asked, smoothing several straps over his thighs and at last he held up a dark padded bar that reminded her of a bit. She realized that it must be a bit fit for a human.

"I have no idea if it is or not. Normally I want to kick someone's ass for embarrassing me but—" she couldn't suppress the tremble of pleasure at the thought of being humbled by this man in a very public way and blushed. "Maybe for you it would be alright. No one else has used these things before have they?"

"OH, at only a dozen or so ponies have used them." He said with a straight face and then rolled his eyes at the strangled sound she made at the idea. "Of course not Brat! I don't have some stable of ponygirls. Normally I just use the gear provided in the room. I haven't screw ponies before this weekend. This gear is yours and only yours, if you want it. This is the head stall and there's a pretty feather plume for the crown and some blinders that also act as blind folds when and if we get there." He grinned at her soft gasp of pleasure. "I'll move that up on the list."

He put that aside after letting her touch the soft leather and held out the butt plug. It ended in a blonde length of horse hair tail and the insertable end was silicon and smaller than she expected.

Thank goodness.

She chewed her lower lip. "I don't know about this..." She murmured, holding it warily in her hands.

Nodding, he started to take it from her. "I respect your limits. It's not for everyone."

She didn't relinquish it though and she smiled at his puzzled look. "You aren't going to beg me?"

"Ah. No. I don't beg. You don't want to, it's fine sweetheart."

"That's refreshing. I guess unexpected too. I only gave my first blow job after months of begging and negotiations."

"Oh really? And did you get oral sex in return?"

She crinkled her nose and shook her head, blushing.

"That seems like an unfair negotiation. Have you ever had oral sex?"

"No." She frowned at his smug grin.

"Did you enjoy giving the blowjob?" He asked softly.

That made her shift around, swinging her hips from left to right. "To be completely honest?"

He inclined his head, "Always."

"No." She frowned and bowed her head, "I liked the power I held over a guy while I'm doing it, but when it's over, they don't know what to do. It was like he saw me as something lesser than a woman, just because put my mouth on his dick."

He stroked his knuckles down her cheek and she looked up at him, blushing furiously. "Douche bags. Honey, I never want you to feel obligated to do something with me. Ever. You should do things because it excites you, not because you think it's going to get me off. Never because you believe will give you control over me."

"You don't think I could suck you off and make you loose control?"

His voice stayed calm and even, but there was a bit of an edge to it. "You will be disappointed if you try it. And I don't want that. I enjoy being in control. I will also likely hold sexual pleasures from you for a very long time if you try some bullshit game like that. Understand?"

The tone sent an electric thrill through her and she arched towards him, leaning into his side and he stroked her shoulder, caressing and squeezing the muscles of her upper arm, "Baby, I always want you to be on fire like you were last night. Tell me how I can make you burn like that and drive you crazy. That is what I crave. Not demanding you suck me off or stuff this plug up your ass If you don't really like it."

She leaned harder into his touch and smiled at him, "I guess what I'm saying is that I would like to try it but—what if I use my safe-word?"

He rolled up his shoulders, "That is what they are for, to press a limit knowing it will stop when you say the word. This toy is for your pleasure, not for anything more than my amusement to get to use it to wriggle now and then while you eat your breakfast at my feet like the little beast you are. While your cunt is covered with this chastity belt so no other stallions can have you! Just in case you have uncontrollable urges still."

He grunted playfully when she slapped at him and kissed her softly on the lips. His smiled warmed her mouth as he kept the kiss chaste, breaking it before she could lure him into something deeper. Every inch of her skin felt tingly and her heart raced with excitement as he eased off the bed and left the straps to stand behind her.

"Don't look back," He commanded.

She moaned softly in expectation, thinking he would just plunge the toy into her, but instead she felt him petting her hips and then lightly over her ass and at last his fingertip, slick with lube, nuzzled against her virgin pucker.

"Oh God!" She couldn't believe she was doing this! Couldn't believe that she liked it!

"Rock back Sweetheart. I'm going to hold my finger still and you'll put yourself on me—see how it feels."

"I don't think I can..."

He put a hand on the small of her back, the warm reassurance slowly drawing her back towards him and the finger he held against her ass. It wasn't much and she could have resisted it and him if she wanted. But the encouragement and support aided her to let go of the fear. This was supposed to hurt!

Her toes curled at the realization that she'd so recently discovered that she liked the sensual pain. Which meant....

"Oh Fuck!" she growled and leaned back, impaling her tight pucker on the awaiting finger.

He didn't move it or flex it inside her, just held steady as her muscles squeezed around him, fluttering and grasping at the strange, erotic sensation of being filled. It didn't hurt but it felt strange and so naughty!

At last and all too soon, she felt the knuckles of his hand nuzzling against her ass and when he was fully in her, he pressed slowly deeper, grinding the knuckles and very slowly curling his finger in her. The sensation tore a moan of pleasure from her throat against her will and she fell forward, shuddering. Her pussy squeezed in time with her ass around his invading finger. Not invading—invited. She sobbed out for more but he teased her, staying still.

"What's that sweetheart?" he asked, kissing her hip. "You alright? Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck! Fuck no!"

"Fuck no?"

"Fuck no Sir! Fuck!" She shuddered as he chuckled and didn't provide what she desired.

"This isn't play time sweetheart. Although you look desperately beautiful like this. I'm not going to give you an orgasm. I'm going to pull this finger out and put the plug in—unless you don't want me to. It will be this sweet pleasure all day. I can remove it anytime you say the word. Understand?"

Her head spun! He wasn't going to give her the orgasm? But she wanted it! She needed it! How could he be so cool and calculating?

"You already came this morning didn't you?" She snarled and looked back at him.

She caught him cupping his hand over his cock and only when their eyes met did she realize that she'd broken his command. His eyes were dark, almost black with his unmasked passion and desire and he looked devastatingly handsome. She ached to have him with something like a physical pain of yearning she'd never felt before. A gasp sucked out of her as she jerked her head back around but the damage was done! "Shit!"

He yanked the hand buried in her ass away from her, leaving her empty and aching.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped and bowed her head forward.

In silence he walked away from her. Left her on the bed, bowed over the pillows and she shuddered and quaked. Would he spank her for being bad? Yell at her? Punish her for breaking his command? She heard water in the bathroom, he must be cleaning his hands. He would return and...and...

But he didn't return. The silence stretched even after the water went off. Did she dare look back to check on him? Why was she so afraid? He couldn't really harm her. And yet, her heart squeezed in her chest in a rabbit-like panic. She'd fucked up. It was an honest mistake, she forgot. Worse, she'd accused him and it really and honestly wasn't her place to question Sir.

Fuck. She was doomed. She had it furiously bad for this guy. He could be a dirt farmer and she'd be at his feet.

"Sir?" She asked, hating and loving how her voice quavered.

"Yes girl?" He asked, his voice distant, as though he were still in the other room.

"I'm sorry."

"Ah." He murmured, thoughtful but then didn't say anything else. Did he expect her to say more? Did he want her to?

"I forgot the command. Sir. I...should not have questioned you."

She heard his footsteps slowly prowl back towards her, moving from marble tiles to hard wood and she kept her head bowed. "I see. Forgot? So soon?" The edge to his voice sent sweet knives down her spine and she quivered, biting back the soft gasp. He sounded pissed.

"I am n-new at this." She shivered when she stammered and hunched her hips down lower, expecting him to smack her. Punish her. Like she were a bad dog caught stealing a bone. Is that what he would do?

His hand, warm and wet from washing, smoothed over her hip, an extremely light contact that she flinched from. "Sssshhh—Pet. Why do you cower from me?" She felt his weight on the bed but didn't look up.

"I...I'm sorry." She whispered, struggling against tears. Fuck!

He didn't say anything in reply. Instead she felt his fingers touch her chin and he lifted her face up but she kept her eyes closed. This was so much worse than if he'd just taken the belt to her as some punishment. She didn't want to see the anger on his face she heard in his voice.

"Sweetheart. Open your eyes."

It took her a moment to obey, a slow caress of his thumb over her lower lip and when she opened her eyes, he smiled down at her, eyes shinning bright. "Baby. I only punish you with a spanking when you're very, Very good. You like it. Remember? When you disobey...I'm going to stop what I'm doing. Brats like you—well, you hate that. Don't you?"

She moaned in agreement and he pet over her upper lip.

"Such a beautiful girl. You know that? Sit up."

When she did, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her and coaxed her into his warm chest.

"You sounded so pissed." She whispered into his throat, breathing in the leathery spice with a relieved smile.

"Doesn't mean that I was angry at you. Frustrated a little that you forgot so easy but—I still adore my girl. I love this sassy mouth of yours and your fire. I never want to break that. I want you to obey me, but not without question. And when you do something like not follow something I told you—I will correct you as kindly as I can. I'm not some sexual monster. I do get off beating the holy hell out of you, but only because you like it and consent to it. Not because you're terrified of being hurt. Physically or emotionally."

She nodded, "I think it's sinking in."
That made him laugh quietly. "I'm tempted to have you dress like normal and not press you more—"

She whined softly in protest but he spoke through her muted displeasure.

"—because you want it so badly. Show you that you don't get what you want for misbehaving."

"But—"

"You are such a Bratty little ass. I am going to put you in an ugly harness make you wear it until you can behave like a proper pony."

She shivered and hid her face in his neck, knowing he was grinning at her discomfort.

"A ratty old tail and uncomfortable harness. Oh, poor sweet Bratty-Ass."

His hand patted her welted backside before he drew back and stood up and walked away, going to a closet where he peered around, hhmming softly.

It was humiliating. Vans bristled at the ugly brown straps and the mangy looking tail. Even as he inserted it with care and soft, sweet words, she could tell he was waiting for her to call her safe word. She was tempted. And yet, she was so turned on by feeling the embarrassment. As he made her crawl down the hallway, she growled behind the bit he put into her mouth, buckling behind her head. He only smirked at her curses.

"Is that the safeword?" He asked at the door, twirling the ends of her leash.

He was back behind his mask and she in hers. It offered some protection and between this and the bit, he couldn't really see her scowling at him. She also wore an arrangement of stiff, uncomfortable brown leather straps and heavy buckles and locks that made up the chastity belt. Nothing as fine and artful as the blue-green beauty he'd teased her with. This stuff felt stiff and thick and chaffed her as she moved.

She shook her head when he hesitated closing the door. Her glare didn't phase him at all. He just smiled and after the room was secure, walked her down the long hall, keeping his steps small so she could keep up. It felt like it took forever to get down the stairs and to the atrium where breakfast was served. It gave her a lot of time to adjust to her new role as an animal. And it was fucking hot! She liked the way he would pause and check her gear and stroke her back and murmur sweet praises to her.

The atrium was packed with people, everyone that passed greeted Sir-Dragon and he sometimes introduced her as his Ass and she glowered at them. Which made the embarrassment worse because then they'd offer him advice on trailing. The glowers became less furious by the time they reached a table and she was trying to keep close to his legs, not wanting anyone to accidental touch her. Not wanting anyone to try to school her behavior as one interested young woman suggested.

He was just about to settle into his seat when another pony-girl came crawling up to them, every movement sensual and artful. Vans had not perfected her pony crawl. At all. This girl in a hummingbird mask preened under Dragon's attention as her handler sauntered closer, pulled by the leash as the girl made for Dragon.

Vans chewed against her bit as the women ignored her and fixed attention on Dragon.

"Ah, good morning Kitten." Dragon rumbled towards the woman in the leopard mask. He looked past her and then back at her, "Not running with—who was it last time? Hare? Or was it Hound? Trying the girls now hmm?"

"Dragon. Morning. No, I thought I would run your girl. She was your girl. Wasn't she? She seems to remember you." Displeasure tightened as she watched Hummingbird arching and preening for attention, rubbing up against his knee.

Vans counted very slowly to ten and then back to one but her blood boiled. What was the etiquette for this situation? Normally, she'd say something like: 'get your whore hands off my man.' Or she'd throw an elbow in this cheeky broad's throat. But neither of those things seemed like Proper Pony behavior. As though to answer her, Dragon's hand dropped to her head he smoothed his fingers into her hair, curling into her locks before pulling her up towards him.

The movement of her stretching up onto her knees drew both women's attention to her and they stared as Dragon kissed her firmly on the mouth, over the bit she'd been biting into. Vans basked in the obscene pleasure of the kiss around the bit! She arched towards him, showing off the plain brass nipple clamps that was all that shielded her from view. The jingle of the various locks and buckles shivered around her as he stroked the other hand down her back, adjusting her pony girl until she melted against him. Fuck, it was so hot. She wanted to crawl into his lap and proclaim her undying love for him in front of the whole room!

Only when Hummingbird made a furious sound of anger did he break the kiss. He continued to hold Vans against him, rolling the end of the tail around in a slow circle until she moaned behind the bit in wanton delight.

"You said you never—you wouldn't...." Pale blue eyes fixed on Vans. There was jealous fury there. Well, alright then.

"Kitten, you have no idea. I suggest you control your pony." Dragon sounded completely bored with the whole situation, smoothing his fingers through Vans hair, adjusting the curls just so as he looked away from the two. "What would you like for breakfast Bratty-Ass?" He asked her, as though no one else were in the room staring at them.

It was a clear dismissal but it took the woman in the leopard mask-Kitten, a few tugs to get Hummingbird to back off and come away with her.

Dragon kissed her cheek and teased her bit with a wink behind his mask. "No jealous-one. I never fucked her. You see that behavior?" His head shook from side to side slowly, "Do not follow that example. Understand?"

After she nodded she felt him toying with the buckle and the bit came free.

"Good girl. Try not to use that sassy mouth for more than eating. Alright?"

"Yes Sir." She whispered and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the floor and when she dropped back down, his big hand patted her ass.

She was just getting herself settled down when a familiar voice greeted him.

"Dragon! Good morning." Ursa's cheerful voice bubbled up with honest delight and Vans jerked her head up, slamming the underside of the table as she did, rattling all the glassware.

"Oh!" Ursa gasped. "You alright?"

Vans wanted to curl up and die! She huddled into Dragon's legs and stayed under the table.

"She's fine." Her Sir rumbled, his hand dropping down to pet along her hair and down the nape of her neck. "Are you alright?" he leaned to the side and one azure eye peered down at her and she gave a frantic nod. "Hhmm...maybe hit a bit hard."

She was just getting her heart out of her throat and trying to sneak a look up at Ursa when a dark figure blocked her view. Suddenly her space under the table was filled with the massive shape of—the nearly black skinned Archer-Leo.

He'd changed from the night before, only the mask remained the same. His broad chest was criss crossed with white patenleather straps and a large central oval in polished silver and gold sported an owl in flight in the center. It was beautiful! Instead of the arming skirt, he wore nothing except a cage around his massive cock. Wool and fur boots extended up to his knees and there were small silvery bells and glenting opals on various surfaces, gleaming and jingling as he adjusted his large frame under the table.

From behind his mask, his black eyes pinned her with a decidedly furious look and he bared his teeth at her and leaned hard into the long white velvet beside him.

"Oh, careful!" Ursa laughed and her hand drifted down, cupping his cheek. He hesitated a moment, glaring at Vans before pointedly leaned his cheek into the hand. "Let me sit first." Some adjustments and then the chubby legs stretched out under the table and Archer's hands smoothed over the skin exposed from the plush layers of velvet. "You don't mind if we join you? I think the gem-girls will be around and I'll go if you—"

"No, this is perfect actually." Dragon answered, sounding fucking amused. Asshole!

Vans huddled tighter against Dragon's legs, wanting to be anywhere else but here.

In what world did this powerful, handsome man sit on a floor by Ursa's feet like some dog? Why would he do that? Bow to Ursa? What the actual fuck?

But Archer was no longer under the table with her, he drew up onto his knees slightly at some unseen coaxing and she was left without a clue what was going on.

"I saw Leopard...Kitten...Come by. Everything alright?" Ursa asked.

She didn't stammer. She sounded so confident and self assured. It hardly sounded Ursa-Like at all.

"Ah, the ghost of Pony-play past. The Pony I sponsored at the last event pulled her over."

"Hummingbird?"

Sir-Dragon growled in agreement.

"Guess she wasn't your thing?"

"I did say she pulled Kitten over, right? It's bullshit. Topping from the bottom. It's not my cup'a."

"Mmmm. Me either." A pause, the sound of water being filled into glasses. "So, who's your ghost of Pony-play present?" Usra asked with a most un-Ursa-Like teasing in her voice.

Fuck.

"Well, funny story behind this one. Brat?" He didn't prompt her to come out from hiding with a touch, just used his voice to summon her. She cowered and pressed her cheek into his knee. She so didn't want to do this right now. "She's not normally so shy. This is actually amazing."

Vans scowled, resisted the urge to bite his thigh and fixed her mask, as though her friend would be fooled and carefully extracted herself from the table cloth and rose up onto her knees.

The woman who sat primly across from Sir-Dragon held herself with a confident ease, leaning back into her chair, toying with a glass of champagne as though she were considering its worth while her other hand rested in her lap where the Archer's head must be nestled. The mask was only a simple white domino mask in leather balanced on her nose, her hair a glossy golden brown fall over her shoulders and the velvet dress she wore. The plunging neckline displayed her cleavage to full advantage and the golden key dangled between the valley of her pale skin.

She didn't recognize Vans right away, her full lips curving into a kind, generous smile. "Well, hello there Brat of Dragon."

"This is Owl." Sir-Dragon said mildly, "Mistress of Archer. This is Faery, though Bratty-Ass for the moment." He affectionately wrapped a supporting arm around her, stroking her hip. "Say hello Precious."

"H-hi." Vans stammered and gritted her teeth, eyes rolling skyward. Fuckity Fuck!

Greenish-gold eyes went round behind the Owl's simple white mask and she put a little hand to her mouth. Archer's head peeked over the edge of the table, dark and piercing as he looked between Dragon and Vans.

"You might know each other." Dragon said, tsking quietly through his teeth in the following silence that followed.

"The Faery?" Owl spoke from between her fingers, staring at her hard in disbelief. "The one who stopped Bee from..." She couldn't seem to bring herself to put the rest to words so Vans nodded her head.

"Ah." Dragon murmured, "Last night was quite full. Yesterday was quite full." He didn't sound pleased about the part Vans played in that either. His hold against her lightened and she found herself leaning against him for support.

"I am...s-so very sorry a-about..."

"About lying to me?" Owl asked, her voice quiet and hard. Vans thought Dragon's voice made her quiver but this anger made every hair on her body prickle up. Holy mother.

"Y-yes. About everything. P-please! I was fucking stupid."

"About trying to convince me to break up with? About thinking you're /better/ than me?" Her voice only got more quiet as she asked the questions.

Archer wasn't unaffected by her tone either. He curled against her and nuzzled his cheek against the curve of her breasts. Alright, so this was a side of her friend Vans had never seen. Could never have expected. Her voice wanted to quaver into little pieces.

"I think there were a lot of horrible things said and done." Dragon interrupted when Vans tried several times to stammer out additional apologies.

Owl focused her anger on him, looking him up and down as though seeing him in a new light. "You actually want to dirty your hands in that?" She asked, biting out each word, still speaking so quiet, almost whispering.

Dragon tipped his head to one side. "She didn't lie to me."

"Yet." Owl spat quietly. "You have no idea what that manipulative bitch is capable of."

"Easy Owl." Dragon soothed, holding up his hands, showing her his palms. "She did some shitting things. I know she's sorry for them. You two are friends. Don't you—"

"We were friends, until she insulted me in the worst possible way. The first moment in my life when things are going good, she wanted nothing so much than to take it from me." She turned to Vans, hazel eyes burning hot.

Vans quavered and let out a soft moan. She should /not/ find this so hot. She should definitely meet fire with fire and yell at her and tell her how she felt. But right now, all she felt was the horrible truth of it. "Fuck." She whimpered and tried to meet those powerful, furious eyes. "I was jealous. I w-was wrong. I'm s-sorry. I won't ever do it again."

The submission gave Owl pause and she slowly eased back into her seat as though weighing the words and their worth. At last she slid her attention to Dragon and shrugged. "Good luck to you." She said quietly and lowered her hand to her lap, where Archer had vanished.

"I was hoping," Dragon began, "That we might all start over again. Because, this is all a huge power shift, right? I think we all deserve a second chance."

Owl held her emotions in check this time though her eyes rolled behind the mask. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I can't guarantee anything because the Brat is a little shit, but I don't think it's in her interest in get in the way of either of you now. She had no idea what kinks your Pony is into you see." He sounded so fucking smug as he raked his fingers into Vans' hair and she glanced at him to see the familiar shit-eating grin bring out the dimples in his cheeks.

"Oh? Really?" Owl asked and Archer peeked over the top of the table again to regard Vans.

"Mmm." Dragon purred. "Tell them Precious. What do you like?"

He didn't tighten his fingers in her hair but she longed for it. She tipped her head forward until she felt the pressure of his grip against her scalp. "I l-like to be hurt." She whispered.

"That's right. Come out from under the table and let our friends see you. Come along now." Dragon scraped back his chair, suddenly exposing her as he pulled her out of the table with him.

There was no way to hide the welts on her backside, or the horrible plain straps and the ratty looking pony-tail shoved up her ass. This was horrible! She felt the shame burn through her but she made fists with her hands, refusing to cover herself.

Owl leaned over to peer at her as Dragon forced Vans to crawl in a circle to show them all sides of her body. At long last, the wretched, wonderful and delicious attention slid off her as both the woman and her Pony settled back into their seat.

Dragon pulled Vans closer and drew her up, cuddling her into his lap unexpectedly. "That was very difficult for you. You were very good." He whispered and kissed her very softly.

She wanted to cry with relief as she kissed him back. The praise after the display nearly overwhelming to her. He didn't allow the kiss to deepen. It remained chaste and too short and when it ended, he brushed a finger along her lips, meeting her gaze with an expression of affection.

Across the table though, Owl and Archer were kissing in such a passionate tangle that Vans wasn't quite sure they weren't going to slide to the floor and have at it right there.

Dragon winked at Vans and cleared his throat. "Well. See something you like?" He asked.

The pair didn't come up for air right away, Owl broke the kiss only after biting hard on the man's plush lower lip until he whimpered his submission. She held a fist full of his hair, preventing him from melting into her. "I think I'm going to need to learn how to apply welts like that." Owl answered and Archer's hips arched forward, bells singing with the force of it. He wasn't even allowed the comfort of grinding against her with the cage in the way.

"You two are horribly cute. Can we agree to put this behind us? Have breakfast and then retire to the stables for some sport?"

With care, Owl released the man's dark curls and let him snuggle in against her side, wrapping his strong arms around her. She acted as though this were all quite normal, and reached for a napkin to lightly dab at her lips with a smirk to Dragon. "Fine. I will try to find forgiveness."

Archer's dark eyes opened and although he didn't turn his cheek away from the pillow of Owl's soft breasts, he inclined his head just slightly.

They ate breakfast as though they had been doing it for years. Sir and Mistress eating like humans while Boy and Brat ate as beasts by their feet. Vans didn't want to admit how much she liked it. The little nudges from Sir, his rumbling voice at the table while she was reduced to something small and inhuman. Strangest of all, Archer, huge and imposing, so mild and eyelid heavy with pleasure as Owl's little heel pressed into the nape of his neck, pushing him towards his plate.

Vans kept waiting to hear the safe word, but he didn't speak once. How long had those two been living this life? How could Ursa turn it off and on? Why hadn't Ursa said anything? She thought of the rich bitch—what was her name? She couldn't remember but knew it had to do with her. She cuddled into Sir-Dragon, letting her eyelids close. It wouldn't last forever. She would have to go back to the real world soon and she wasn't sure how she would turn this off at the door. For now, she would just need to enjoy it while she could.

At the end of the meal, House-Mistress made an announcement about what happened the night before. She glossed over who was involved, but that something horrible happened. It could end the way the parties were run and the guest lists would be cut greatly. People who were bending the rules would be told to leave and not be invited back. House-Mistress sounded pissed.

Vans wondered if this would be her one and only invitation to the house. She had some small part involving Bee and even in her invitation it said she had not been screened very carefully. Her heart ached at the thought of giving this up. But, how could she really miss it if she wasn't attached. Surely her Sir would see her at the book store.

That wouldn't be the same though.

Would it?

Sir-Dragon was quiet and subdued the whole time he helped her changed into her regular harness. The real harness and the one made for her and her alone. It wasn't until he kissed her shoulder and whispered what a good girl she was and how proud he was that she realized that he was focused on the race ahead.

The weight of the realization hit her. She would, somehow, be a reflection on him. Like Hummingbird was a reflection of Kitten. This is what he meant. She leaned into his touches and tried to convey without words that she understood and she wouldn't do something with her smart mouth to get her in trouble, and him shamed. He answered without words, pulling her tight to him and kissed her, his mouth hard on hers, his tongue darting forward to greet her as she extended hers towards him, longing for the taste of him after the chaste control he had earlier. His growl answered her whimper and he pulled her in tight to him, pulling her offer her feet.

"I have never run a race in my life." She hold him, not bothering to hide her doubt.

With that wretchedly smug smile, her Sir-Dragon held her gaze, one arm around her, the other hand skillfully replacing the battered looking tail with a glorious flaxen tail. "I don't care what happens today. You've already made me so proud sweetheart."
She arched against him, loving how he held her and stroked her just enough to stir her fire without demanding anything else. He pressed the plug deeper into her ass and whispered into her ear, "Someday, I'd like to hear you beg me to take this little hole. Some day, I might even accept that begging and give you what you want." He nipped her ear, breath warm on her neck and throat as he growled. Then he arranged her head stall, leaving the bit aside but arranged the plumes of feathers on her head like they were an arrangement of flowers at a wedding. He leaned back at last and motioned for her to spin around. Then, sure all was perfect for him, he attached the thin golden chain to her collar and lead her out to the stables.

This time she didn't need to crawl. She walked just slightly behind him, her hands clasped behind the small of her back to push her breasts forward, proudly displaying the gold and jeweled clips attached to her aching hard nipples. It was easy to follow the movement of the others, lifting her knees high as she went, making her breasts bounce with every stop and she basked in the attention everyone lavished upon her.

They walked through the crowded stables and Dragon gave her back her lead and a glass of wine before kissing her cheek, "Don't go far." He whispered and his bright eyes gleamed before he released her to explore on her own.

The stables were a wonder of sexual pleasure and equestrian delights. While Dragon visited with his friends, Vans found herself at liberty to wander the empty stalls and she felt whisked back to an earlier time. She could admit how desperately she missed her time at the stables when she did pony club. Both for polo and for Hunter-Jumpers. God, it felt like such a long time ago. Why hadn't the longing gone away?

Her skin prickled and she glanced over a shoulder to catch someone watching her. Dragon stood with his own glass of wine in hand but his brilliant azure gaze settled on her and his mouth curved into the most sensual little smile. He might be taking to those gathered around him, but he kept her in his line of site. She liked that. With a little up-tip of her chin, she posed for him but turned her face away, admiring a the tack hanging on the wall. Some old racing silks from horse and jockey. It all looked recently dusted. Horses had not used this space for a very long time. She could smell the distant equine sweat smell but mostly the place smelled of saddle soap, leather and fresh hay that lined the stalls for decoration.

"You were an equestrian?" A woman's voice intruded on her thoughts and the House-Mistress herself wandered down the aisle towards her. The woman was wearing a long mink coat and long dress of bronze velvet to match the iron and rust colored filigree mask hiding her features. Vans was sure this was the woman who had visited the bookstore on many occasions. The Rich-Bitch. And, the woman who allowed her to join the festivities. Vans felt heat rise in her cheeks as she ducked her head.

"Yes Ma'am." She answered, not lifting her eyes. Not sure if she should sink to her knees in respect or remaining standing so she only bowed her head forward.

"Would you still ride if you could?" She asked.

Vans wanted to laugh aloud but said, "Does a bird want to fly?" She didn't manage to keep the bitter amusement from her tone. The woman heard it and Vans let out a hiss of breath. "No offense. I don't think equestrian sports are in my future. Unless it's this." She motions to her costume and sipped her wine.

The woman was looking at the silks on the wall. "How good were you as a rider?"

Vans frowned down into her glass of wine, "I haven't ridden in a long time. I used to be pretty good but, it's been years."

House-Mistress smiled and moved past her with a twinkle of indigo eyes, "Never give up on your dreams. You never know what the future holds." She saluted with her glass. "Good luck with the race today." And with that, she slipped out and into the snow, pulling the hood of her thick fur coat over her head. Outside, snow was falling harder, the landscape blurred and misty with the haze of cold and the heavy storm of white coming down.

Vans walked to the door leading outside and peered out, feeling her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. She didn't dare wish for more than she's already received. Forgiveness from a friend and a lover. She pressed her hand against the center of her chest as she watched a group of patrons lead their ponies out into the snow. Where was /her/ patron? Her heart hitched against her ribs eagerly as she looked around for him. He had been right there a moment ago. He must be out a little further and the heavy snowfall was making it hard to see.

Owl, small and plump was there, boldly leading the huge Archer by a fragile looking thread of gold chain. Vans felt herself smile as she watched them. They really were perfect together. She needed to make it right by them. She felt her eyes burn as she watched the small woman parade her enormous playmate around the show circle, letting him high-step it through the snow. The sound of his bells rang out over the snowy landscape and a pattering of applause echoed back to her.

"Are you ready Precious?" Dragon's familiar voice rumbled from the stall behind her.

She turned and smiled at him, realizing that he'd been lurking and watching her. "Oooo, creepy stalker." She whispered.

"You caught me." He crooked a finger to her and then held out his hand.

Blushing, she crossed over to him and offered the strap of her lead and then tucked her hands behind the small of her back, pushing her breasts forward, chin tipping up.

"Sexy bitch." He whispered and used the end of the leash to slap her breast once, startling her with the unexpected snap and sting.

She whimpered, nipples going tight and hard as she pushed herself forward towards another strike but he held back, his gaze burning into her.

"Ready?" he asked again, drawing the lead closer without any resistance to her.

"I think so. I hope I don't let you down."

"You can never let me down if you're having fun." He smoothed a hand along her breast, cupping her with his warm palm, giving the nipple a tweak. "You warm enough? Boots alright?"

She wanted to laugh aloud. The boots were worth hundreds of dollars and not meant to be trotting around in the snow. Dragon smirked at her expression and pulled her chin up, his brushing over hers. "Maybe Santa will bring you a brand new pair for your everyday wear if you dirty these."

"As Sir desires." She whispered, pushing her breasts into his chest. He felt amazing against her in the impeccable tux.

"Sir desires you to have fun." He brushed his lips over hers and then started for the door and together they stepped into the snowy day.

She had not noticed the cold until the wind caught her outside. It cut through even the smoldering heat of her lust as the snow swirled around her. Snow crunched underfoot as she trotted out beside her Sir, keeping her steps high, showing off the black fur boots that jingled with every step.

The weather wasn't keeping people away from the event though. The large fire pit blazing was crowded with spectators and everyone held some steaming beverage in hand where they stood either around the flames or on the sidelines to get a better view.

The men were already on the starting line, posturing and showing off for the crowd. Archer was clearly the stand out in the group. Taller, stronger and darker than the others and he had the most stunning outfit, the sound of the bells on his outfit rang out proudly across the field.

"Fucking show off." Dragon rumbled with amusement. "Think you can get your bells to ring like that?" He tapped one of them between her breasts. As lovely as her straps were, they were nothing compared to those Archer wore.

"I don't think I have a dick-cage full of bells." She returned, shivering when he tweaked her nipple, sucking in a sharp breath.

"I could get you some bells to hang from that sweet pussy." His eyes gleamed with intense pleasure at the idea.

"Beast."

He wrapped her in his arms, grinning at her, his golden lashes heavy with snowflakes despite the protection of his mask. "Your beast." He whispered and hugged her tightly. Together they watched the men run through the slush and snow but she was more fixated on the way his hands felt on her stomach and breasts and trying to think of any way she could talk him into going back to their room instead of being out in the cold and wind.

Archer could have easily taken first but he strutted his way with showmanship into second place, making extra loud cries of his bells as he tromped over the line, flamboyant and carefree as he went.

"Such a show off." The woman in the leopard mask, Kitten, had joined them and beside her stood Hummingbird, her eyes burning towards Dragon, though the man didn't take note of her. He nodded a greeting to Kitten, lips curling into a small smirk.

"He looks like he's having fun. Isn't that what it's all about?"

Kitten sniffed in distaste, "Oh, it's fun to win. Otherwise, why compete."

Dragon shrugged and offered Vans a warm smile, pulling her in tighter. His voice lowered, "Just enjoy yourself out there. Don't get hurt trying anything fancy. Alright?"

"Would I do anything like that Sir?"

He snorted and leaned in, biting her shoulder with a snarl. "You behave yourself Brat." He spanked her ass, hard and sent her on her way.

Laughing, Vans trotted off over the snow, trying to make her bells ring and sigh like Archer had. She was so into her marching steps that she didn't realize that Hummingbird had fallen into step with her. The other woman was lovely, toned and fit, obviously a runner and likely into her fitness as much as Vans.

"You think you're something, but he'll be on to the next thing soon. That's how he is. New flavor every few weeks."

"I don't think I asked you." Vans said with a tip of her chin and stomps harder, lengthening her strides.

Hummingbird kept pace. "He used to call me his favorite you know."

"Good for you Baby." Vans said with a sneer.

"Just look at him. He is a fucking player. Face it."

Vans didn't want to look back. She wanted to trust him and everything he'd told her. They passed Archer and Owl, the big man being draped in the woman's soft white and fur cloak after his run. They looked so perfect together. It made her glance over her shoulder to see her Sir.

And he was kissing the fucking Kitten.

Her steps faltered and Hummingbird laughed at her as she sped past, making it to the start line.

What was wrong with these people? Why couldn't anyone just be what they seemed? She felt her heart breaking in her ribs and refused to look back at him. He couldn't even keep it in private? He had to just smooch on her right there? Was this payback for her being such a bitch to Ursa? Did she deserve this? Why did he have to play her so hard that morning? Was he lying when he said he had feelings for her?

"Don't take it hard." Hummingbird said beside her at the starting line. "Did he tell you how special you were? Talk with you about your potential? Diamond in the rough and all that?"

Vans gritted her teeth. "No. He said quoted pop songs to me. Go fuck yourself."

She was in no mood to be taunted by this bitch and she wasn't even sure she wanted to do any part of this race. The spring went out of her step. She wanted this over with so she could crawl into a hot bath, sleep and go home as early as possible. Maybe Ursa would have mercy on her and take her home.

"Don't get huffy at me. I tried to warn you."

Vans flipped her off and fixed her attention ahead of her at the course. It had not been so long since she ran in track. She kept herself in shape. She could at least show this bimbo a few things. Put her through her paces. A few other woman coming to join them, they were having a great time, really getting into the spirit of the event. One of the women, dressed in pink, trotted up beside her, fixing her mask and she squealed to Vans. "Hey! Faery! Dragon's Faery! It's me! Flamingo!" She twirled, bells jingling on her pink harness.

Vans felt the discomfort ease. If Flamingo who had been hurt so badly by the Bee could bounce back, so could she. "Hey there! You are running the races! Good on you!"

"Hell yes!" She spun around and pointed into the crowd. "There she is. With the lightening bolt. 'Storm'." Flamingo caught her lower lip in her teeth and glanced past Vans to Hummingbird and tried a smile and then winced, "Gesh, your friend is..."

"Oh, she's not my friend." Vans assured her. "And yeah, she's bitchy. She wants to win."

"I hope you're not going to let her." Flamingo whispered.

"I was sorta told to just have fun and not worry about it. But...." She shrugged, "Fuck it. I guess it doesn't matter right now. My Patron pulled the same shit yours did."

"Oh! What an asshole. I heard he was one of the good ones. White-knight type."

"Yeah. Guess you can't believe everything you're told."

Flamingo sighed softly and squeezed her arm. "Hey, you'll be alright. You don't have to put up with that shit. Tell him where to stuff it." She smiled encouragingly. "And shame on him."

Vans wanted to look back on the other side of the sidelines, but she didn't think her heart could take it. It had been a strange roller coaster all day. She could get past this and then get back to the room and it would be fine.

Then the House-Mistress announced the race and the gong set them running.

She really had started this out as being fun. Just a chance to show off the pretty outfit that Dragon got for her. Until he caught him making out with that Kitten bitch the moment her back was turned. And if Hummingbird had not taunted her, she might have been content just hanging with Flamingo and having a game of it through the flurry of snowflakes.

But now her pride was involved.

Now she had to embarrass Kitten's little bitch in front of all her nice friends.

She ran for all she was worth. Neck and neck with Hummingbird, leaving the rest of the pack behind them. She lost her plume first, ignoring it as it fell back, flying into the air and splashing into the icy mud. They rounded the corner of the track still step in step and Flamingo darted towards her, trying to shoulder her and foul her steps but Vans managed to dodge away from her without loosing stride. They hit the straight away and she took to the outside, losing the advantage of the field but avoided the other woman getting near her.

It felt good to take her aggressions out on the field, stretching her legs, putting her effort into winning this race. The boots would be ruined. They were not meant for running. It didn't matter though. The mud and ice splashing up her legs and thighs and splashing over her back and stomach didn't matter either. All that mattered was winning.

The finish line was in sight and within reach. She charged forward, focused head of her, blocking everything else out as the breath puffed from her, the cold burning her lungs and throat and it felt so good! The pain reminded her who and what she was. A book store clerk.

This weekend had all been a joke. She was no Cinderella. She was a wanna-be worse than Ursa. At least Ursa had found her partner here. He was faithful. Even when that cunt Bee had tried to force him, he was noble and faithful!

Faithful!

Her eyes blurred with furious tears. Asshole!

And that's when Hummingbird struck her in the ribs with her elbow. Her slim body veered into her and rammed her hard, slamming so hard. If they had been running on a normal track surface, she would have been alright, but the ice underfoot was too slick. She couldn't get traction as she went sprawling forward and lost her balance.

When she went down, she fell down hard. She held out her hands to stop her fall, skidding and tumbling into a slide over mud and snow and ice. She thought she heard Hummingbird laughing, but it might have been the ringing in her ears from when her chin hit the surface of the ice.

She tasted mud in her mouth as she struggled to roll onto her side, gasping for breath, her knees and elbows throbbed and she bit her tongue when she struck the ground. Her head rang from the landing and her palms pulsed and burned from where they'd taken the force of her landing and sliding over the ground.

Worse was her chin and the horrible cold that soaked into her as she lay there panting. The rest of the pack of runners were so far behind. How fucking embarrassing. If only the earth could open up and swallow her, that would be great. But of course that didn't happen. Instead, the familiar voice growled into her ear as big hands coaxed her to sit up.

"Baby, are you alright?"

Dragon.

"Get away from me!" She screamed at him.

He didn't release her though. He slung his jacket off and tried to wrap it around her. "You're going to freeze."

"I'd rather freeze my tits off than have you touch me! You think I didn't see you? Everyone saw you kissing her!" Vans couldn't keep the hysterical edge out of her voice and she pushed at him, skipping and sliding in the mud and snow as she tried to get her footing. "You couldn't even sneak off to do it like ou did this morning? You made me believe you!"

"You're being melodramatic! Stop this!" Again he tried to get his jacket over her, not caring she was soaked and covered in mud. Others had come onto the field now and the other contestants had stopped to make sure she was alright. The race had come to an end with only one runner crossing the finish line.

Vans tried one more time to push him away but he caught her hand and pulled her in closer to him, wrapping the jacket around her, trapping her between it and his chest.

"You're bleeding baby." He whispered, voice husky with emotion. "What on earth....you saw that bimbo try to maul me with her mouth? You /honestly/ think I would touch her willingly?"

Vans had no good response to that. She sputtered several attempts in her pain and anger and the misdirected fury.

The voice at the podium broke in on her floundering. "Alright everyone. This race is officially scratched. I will not tolerate this bad sportsmanship!" House-Mistress' voice boomed out, unmistakably furious. "Kitten and Hummingbird, will you both come here."

Dragon looked pretty furious too, it crackled off him like a building storm. She could feel it against her skin where his hands gripped her to keep her from wrestling free of him. "Going to answer me?" he demanded.

"I saw you two kissing! I wasn't even at the starting line and you couldn't keep your hands off her."

"What you apparently didn't notice was she kissed me, and I pushed her away. I do not desire her attention and it came out of nowhere. You are seriously going to hold her actions against me?"

Vans gawked at him, teeth chattering. "What's wrong with women in this place?" she asked brokenly.

"Something crazy in the water." He let out a growl of breath and suddenly scooped her up and into his arms. "Let me get you inside and warm. You scared the living hell out of me."

This time she didn't struggle. She saw Flamingo give her a little thumbs-up and smile before she turned and trotted off to the Storm-masked woman who awaited her.

The fire was blazing in the room when he carried her inside the suite and kicked the door closed. They had not stopped for anyone or anything, whatever expression he wore silenced everyone they passed. She kept her face pressed to the heat of his neck the whole while, glad she could just breath in the scent of him. The curses he uttered where felt more than heard, vibrating under her lips and cheek but despite his anger, his hands where so gentle and so warm! He held her like she was fragile and desperately precious.
He lay her before the fire and when he drew back, she saw the mess she'd made of his shirt, it was a mass of mud and blood and when he stripped off his mask, the fury radiated off him in fierce waves. "I'll be right back." He left the jacket over her shoulders and stalked to the bathroom. The water ran, muffling his oaths. He came out with towel and his shirt unbuttoned, the tie removed somewhere along the way.

"So, here's the deal Baby. I am with you. That is, if you accept me. If you don't trust me, you might as well just tell me right now. I have no control over what other people do. I did everything I could short of knocking her on her ass for taking liberties with me. I didn't even think you /saw/ it—which means she and Hummingbird must have planned it. I hope to God House-Mistress will remove them from the house. It's that sort of bullshit that is gets people hurt."

He knelt beside her, using the warm, wet towel to begin cleaning her.

"I was so angry when I saw you...well, her kissing you. After what you said this morning and then at breakfast I thought—I want—I just...it scared me. I really wanted to show up that bitch."

"You would have too, if she wouldn't have played dirty. And I never had sex with her Jealous-One. Or Kitten, or—anyone here baby. I don't do that."

She ducked her head but he touched her chin and forced her to look up at him, "You fucked me."

"That's right—I did. But I also know you outside of here. And this is a first for me. I see you don't believe me." The disappointment was more horrible than his anger.

Her throat tightened and she reached out to grasp the front of the mud crusted shirt to pull him in closer. "I responded poorly. That bitch pushed my buttons. You were right I—"

His eyes widened in shock, "What's this? I'm right?" He pulled her mask off, huffing at the muddy condition, one of the pretty wings was almost ripped off.

"Stop it. I'm trying to be serious." She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he didn't stop her, too intent on cleaning her face and dabbing at her sore chin. "It's not that I don't trust you. Let me just say my track record hasn't been so great and I expect the floor to drop any moment here."

"Not from me." He assured her with a grin. "Unless you insist on this dramatic response every time you question me. We're both adults. I understand you've been burned before baby but if you stop making 'fight' be your go-to start, it's going to be hard for us. Talk to me. Hhhmm?"

He let her process his request while his skilled fingers removed the buckles on her harness and stripped her of the nipple clamps and eased the butt plug from her. She felt chafed and raw from the various straps and from her fall.

"I think I would like to try that Sir. It is not my first instinct—talking." Her nose crinkled and he laughed at her understatement.

"Uh-huh. You impossible Brat." Affectionately he pulled her into his lap, over his slacks and bare chest.

She smiled at him and ran fingers over his glittering golden chest hairs, tucking her chin down to enjoy the feel of being in the circle of his arms.

"Tomorrow is the end huh?" Something brittle cracked in her chest.

"End? Of the party? Yes. End of us? I don't believe so." He grabbed a handful of her muddy, wet hair and pulled her head back, his expression so concerned, the emotion raw in those brilliant eyes. "Are you saying this is the end of us?"

"No!" Her hands flew up to his cheeks, cupping his face, wanting more than anything to ease the expression from him. "I don't want it to be the end o us! I was afraid it would be!"

"Good, because it would be very awkward otherwise! I was just about to invite you to my company Christmas party. My house for Christmas and then there's New Years, I'm going to New York and—I would hate going alone again."

She blinked several times, unable to form a rational thought. This had to be a dream.

"Unless you do something with your family of course." He said when she gawked at him without responding, sounding strangely less cock-sure than usual.

"I don't have anything to wear." She sputtered. "I have w-work." Her nose crinkled at the thought of the book store. Her sad future. How could she be with this man in reality? Without masks?

He grinned and laughed suddenly, "And these are your only protests? So weak Charles. I am taking you shopping." The brilliance of his blue gaze filled her up, "As for your job. What if I said I had another job in mind for you?"

"What?" She sat up straighter in his lap and he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

"Mmm." He growled in answer but didn't offer more details. Instead, he cupped her ass in both hands and rocked upward towards her until her thighs parted and she straddled his hips, grinding up against him. He felt hard through the woolen slacks, rubbing against her still laced cleft with a pleased moan.

She forgot all about the future as the necessity of the moment tore through her. "I need you!" She whimpered. "Please Sir! Please fuck me!"

They lay before the roaring fire on some exotic animal pelt—zebra maybe—and he grinned under her, "How can I resist my prize winning pony?" He patted her ass, making sure to apply pressure to the worst of her welts before working the buckles of her chastity belt free of her. The various locks and buckles had bitten deliciously into her skin, and getting the device off was a pleasure and an agony. Just as the removal of the anal plug had been.

The collection of straps and buckles clattered to the floor as he tugged it loose at last, melting snow and mud leaving her skin gooseflesh prickled and dirty.

"Yes!" She rubbed her breasts over his chest, the nipples sore from the pressure of hours under the nipple clamps, over sensitive to every touch and she loved how the hairs tickled over her skin as she ground herself against him.

The glow of the flames made his body seem golden and she sat up, straddling him, admiring the handsome man between her thighs as she rocked back and forth, grinding her bare, needy pussy against the front of his slacks.

"Sit up baby." He whispered, nuzzling his thumb against her clit, circling the taut bud of flesh, grinning as she arched above him and his fingers grasped her clit, pinching the flesh he caught there until she cried out, trapped in the bliss of the pain and pleasure. Drawing his his knees, he offered her a brace to lean back into as he slowly rocked her, arching his hips and circling them.

How had this man resisted never having sex? Only hurting the women he was with? He never wanted his own release until now? Her questions fractured when he rolled her clit between his fingers, grinding the fingernail into the fragile base of her until she squealed and bucked.

"Sit up." He ordered when he stopped the torment, only holding her pinned while she panted and her sex painted the front of his pants with her lust.

Jerkily she struggled to obey him and as she lifted of him, his other hand slipped from her backside and pulled his belt open. The familiar jingling sound of the metal made her moan. Memories of her belt-lashing lanced up through her pussy.

"Good girl."

The belt slithered free of the pants and he grabbed her wrists, sitting up to twist the leather around her and then continued to roll, pinning her under him. "Lift your arms over your head."

"I want to touch you!" She gasped but did as he instructed.

"You don't get to." He teased, pushing her thighs open with a cruel slap of his palm against her roughed knees.

"Please!" She begged, opens opening wide on either side of him, exposing her pink, pinched pussy for his admiration.

"No." He spoke the quiet order as he raked his eyes down her body and unfastened his fly and slid the zipper down tooth by tooth while she could do nothing but squirm before him. "Such a dirty girl." He scolded. "Just look how dirty you are!"

He pulled his pants down his hips, under the black fabric, his boxers were bright green silk. The length of his cock tented the front of the fabric, a wetness from the swollen head darkening the front. He left them on while drawing his long, sleek legs from the fabric and tossed it along with shoes and socks behind him. She arched towards him but he shook his head, "Stay still."

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of the boxers, he eased them down, letting her have a glimpse of the golden public hair first, trimmed and velvety at his groin where happy trail from his navel ended in the thicket of gold. He was enjoying this torment. She longed to wrap both hands around his prick and worship it with her touches and then her mouth and tongue.

Shadows played behind his shoulders as he arched over her, firelight dancing over his sun bronzed skin and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he savored her suffering.

"Sir!" She gasped and shuddered, the need to be touched and to touch him nearly overwhelming his commands. It would be so much easier if he simply tied her to the bed and she didn't have to suffer the self restraint this way. He wasn't even letting her see his bared cock. Her breath panted from her, she felt wild and barely hinged.

"Yes Vanderbilt?" He growled out her name, letting it roll over his tongue in that exotic accent of his. The boxers slid down farther by an inch and then two, exposing the base of his golden fringed manhood and his hips rocked forward.

She moaned in answer, her sounds and struggles to remain still made his smile widen and he bared his teeth at her. "I need you Sir!" She could feel her cream tickling down the cleft of her ass and tried to close her thighs but a small shake of his head stilled her movements and she whimpered in frustration.

"I can see. Look how wet you are." To torment her, he not only stopped pulling his boxers down over his hips, leaving them halfway down with the hipbones displayed and cock tenting the cloth proudly forward, he reached out and stroked his long finger up her swollen lips, smearing her juices as his gaze held hers. "God Vanderbilt! You drive me crazy."

And yet, he didn't act as though he were touched by his lust except that his eyes were nearly black and his breath caught when he pressed his fingertip into her. One finger, only the first knuckle, stirring around and around, stopping each time she began to quiver and move with him.

More pre-cum soaked the front of the boxers. When he drew his finger from her, the glossy strand of her juices glistened between his touch and her cunt. His eyes followed the thread as he drew his hand back and suddenly his hand pushed his boxers down the rest of the way, his prick springing free with a bobbing lurch, slapping his stomach and leaving his golden hairs gleaming with dewdrops—hers and his.

His cock curved upward in a cruel, thick length of ivory in contrast to his bronzed skin. No nude sun bathing but the marks of a rather skimpy spedo left a thin white mark on his loins. Through he'd already claimed her with this monster the night before, she felt an intimidating thrill twisting her stomach. He watched her as he smeared her juices around his length, smirking at her fracturing control.

Reaching up, he plucked a foiled wrapped condom from the table beside the hearth and tore it open with his teeth while painting a heart in pre cum over her stomach. It gleamed on her skin, twinkling in the firelight as her breathing sped and hitched.

She longed to hold his cock in her hands. Longed to roll the condom down over his length but he did it all himself, letting her see the ease that he touched himself and her, smiling hungrily down at her. Only the messy dribbling of the pre cum giving away the depth of his hunger for her. He wasn't even allowing her the pleasure of raking her hands down his powerful chest and shoulders. This no touching rule was brutal!

With one hand gripping the base of his cock and the other he lifted her leg up his side and smoothed it along his powerful shoulder. "Do you have any idea how magnificent you are? Unbreakable and strong and—fuck me—/MINE/." He bared his teeth before turning his head and biting against the inside of her calf and up her knee, snarling softly and gazing at her as he nipped and bit along her creamy skin. "Tell me. Are you mine?" He whispered this command and question, his hips arching forward as he spread her wider, petting her creamy folds with the condom wrapped head of his cock.

She gasped and shuddered involuntarily, "Yes!" And a gasping cry as he pressed into her, not quite sinking in. "I'm yours! I'm all yours! Every inch of me!"

He held onto her leg as he bowed over her and his cock slid into her, slow and steady, smearing her open wide around the massive girth of that cock. Unlike the night before when he'd simply taken her in a moment of desperation, this was a slow, sweet union, savoring every inch of her that wrapped around him. As though he wanted to memorize the sensation. Her pussy ached from the rough treatment the night before and she cried out, bucking under him and he stilled inside her.

His hands lifted to hers, his body covering hers, the great shadow of him unfurling and surrounding her as his fingers pulled at the belt. "My poor sweet Vanderbilt!" He whispered into her hair, kissing her cheeks and forehead while he uncoiled the leather from her wrists. "Does it hurt too much?" He didn't press in deeper, only stirred his hips around and around, mixing her honey and making her inner walls squeeze around him, milking him until he moaned with pleasure. "Fuck!"

"Not too much! Perfect! Perfect!!" She hesitated with her fingers twined through his and he coaxed one of her hands to his shoulder and at last she got to sink her fingernails into his back, raking down him.

The sensation made him arch over her, roaring in pleasure as several more inches drove into her, crushing her to the floor. His back felt like bronze under her fingers, hard and smooth, slick with sweat as he fucked her. She gave all that she was, unleashed to respond to him, rising into his driving hips. His powerful hand raked down her back to her hip, slipping under her ass to yank her up to him. He ground into her, rocking deeper and deeper until she screamed in pleasure and pain and need.

His roar of pleasure answered hers, bruising her with the ruthlessness of his hips. "I'm so close! Don't stop Sir! Please don't stop! Oh Fuck!!" She held on for dear life as his thrusts grew more brutal and savage, bending her impossibly until she shattered with orgasm around his pumping cock. The sound of his balls slapping off her ass filled the room as she writhed under his weight and fractured to tiny bits.

He only slowed when her moans and cries of pleasure became ragged sobs and he wrapped himself around her, rolling onto his side, cuddling her and kissing her face. "Are you with me Vanderbilt? My sweet baby!"

"You have wrecked me!" She sobbed, accusing him with a small, whimpering voice.

"You needed it, you proud bitch." He whispered into her neck and rolled his hips back, letting inch after inch of his fat cock slide from her depths.

"Don't! Please, don't go!" She whispered, raking her fingernails over his shoulders, feeling the unusual texture along his shoulders, welts where she'd scratch him. Fuck! She had not meant to be so rough! She'd lost complete control! The air stirred, heat from the fire crackling as he laughed, leathery spices filling her senses as his kisses feathered lightly over her face and then her lips.

"I'm never letting you go baby." He promised and very slowly slid back into her, long, slow strokes easing the bruised and battered depths of her. "I'm going to make you walk with a limp for days so you remember who you belong to and—where you belong."

He fucked her slow and steady with long, deep thrusts, grinding and twisting his hips with the inward stroke until she was breathless and begging for him to go faster. Harder. But he did not change the strokes, as steady as the sea, rolling, plunging, grinding and soon she was at the edge again. "Here?" He asked against her ear, "Right—here?" Grinding deep, arching and then withdrawing as she sobbed for more.

"I'm going to cum lover. I can't hold back much longer. I need you there with me! I need to feel you consumed with me!" His voice growled and he bit her earlobe. Hard. His thrusts didn't change, steadily driving her to her orgasm and as she screamed in release, he kissed her mouth.

His moans of pleasure echoed her as he sucked her tongue and devoured her pleasure and as she arched and shuddered under her, his fingers bruised her ass where he gripped her and he fucked her hard and deep, driving into her clutching, shuddering pussy as he joined her in his climax. His cum gushed, throbbing and swelling inside her, the tempo of his heartbeat furiously and hard through their union.

The orgasm didn't end for so long! He coaxed it out longer and longer with the skillful pinches and nips along her shoulder until at last he settled over her, breath gasping from him in time with her. When she opened her eyes, he was admiring her, still deep inside her though he'd let her leg slide from his shoulder so she could be more relaxed. He supported his weight on his elbows and his fingers stroked the curve of her breasts between his body and hers.

Warmth spread through her, more than just from a blush. She squirmed and he responded by a slow push of his still hard cock into her. "I'm going to have to get up." He whispered. "Come shower with me. I don't want to leave you here without me."

She nodded and caressed her fingers over his face, tracing the dimples and the cleft in his chin. "Yes please."

Grinning indecently at her he draw back from her, carefully easing from her and she whimpered with the sensation. It was no mere teasing. She would remember him and his touches against her long after this weekend ended. Not just in the physical hurting spots but, those places deep inside her heart that he'd left his bruising, ember-hot flame.

He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, setting her down and kissing her before he turned his attention to the extraction of the condom. She turned on the water to let it warm and turned back to admire him.

And sucked in a sharp breath at his back. The livid red and pearly pink marks down his shoulders to his hips could not all be from her!

The sound made him jerk a look over one sexy shoulder at her and his eyes gleamed. "Are you alright?"

"Your...back..." She whispered. Holding up a hand, she reached out and when he didn't draw away from her, she smoothed her fingers over the puckered marks on his back. "I'm sorry."

His lips pursed slightly and he shivered at the touch, arching and pushing towards her fingers with obvious pleasure. "Why are you sorry?"

"Did I hurt you? When I scratched here?"

He shook his head and chuckled, turning to face her, wrapping her in his arms suddenly. "No babygirl."

She felt bewildered but pressed her breasts into his chest and let out a soft breath. It reminded her of the dark marks she'd seen on Leo's back. These were lovely to her though, like artwork somehow. Some riddle with an tickling along the tip of her tongue. She thought if she looked at them longer, she might put the pieces together. He watched her in silence and then suddenly lifted her and carried her into the shower and adjusted the spray at her with a wink.

"We have all the time in the world for you to admire my back sweetheart." He murmured and stepped into the rush of water, playfully splashing her. "Let me wash your dirty ass."

It was a very long time before they got out of the shower!

She wrapped her hands around his cock and he moaned, arching into her fingers. "So greedy Vanderbilt!" He snarled and slid his hands into her hair, bowing his head down to kiss her sweetly while she stroked his hard length. "I fucking love those sweet fingers. Gods! Careful love. Careful....I..."
His body jerked into her touch and she felt herself melt into his chest and kissed him back as she stroked him, pinning him between her body and his stomach, stroking.

"You're going to make me cum you wicked girl." He snarled against her mouth, his eyes burning into hers. "Do you want that? Tell me."

"I want it Sir! I want your cum all over me! Please!"

Azure eyes gleamed, intensely at her as he whispered, "maybe I'll hold back." He threatened and she whimpered.

Her sound and begging made his powerful cock jerk in her palm and he sucked in a sharp breath, moaning out her name again and again as his hips moved with her fist.

"Fuck! You are irresistible!"

His hand slid down between her legs and he pushed her back into the polished marble wall as two fingers plunged into her. He came as his fingers claimed her deeply, curling into her g-spot again and again as his cum fountained up between her breasts, hotter than the water of the shower, pearly and sticky where the glistening beads streaked against her tanned flesh and his bronzed.

Her climax followed swiftly after his, moaning and slumping into the wall, needing his support her as her legs went week with the strength of her release.

He wrapped his other hand around her, pulling her flush to his wet body and smeared his cum over her chest with his body, trapping his cock between them while he pulled her under the stronger spray of the multiple shower heads. In the downpour of the water, with it roaring all around them, he kissed her. Loving and hard, darting his tongue deep into her as his cock had to her aching pussy. She curled her own tongue around his, savoring the strength in him, from the kiss to the grip he held on her. His body shuddered in reaction to the kiss and the orgasm no doubt.

For the length of the shower, they were one. She never wanted that to end. Somehow the rest of their lives needed to be just like this. Together in this safe, warm place. She felt enfolded and protected by him.

They played extra long with the soap and the suds, laughing and teasing fingers until they were both breathless. It eventually came to an end though. He turned off the water and stepped out, lifting her out to join him on the warm tiles and slid a big towel around her. "This isn't the end of anything. This is only the first step to everything that awaits our future." He whispered, eyes burning into hers as he wrapped her up and kissed her.

It was the start of a very interesting future!

dust   dragon   faery   wings   and  

Jan 29, 2018 in romance

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