I wanted to play a game with higher stakes... (Patreon)

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Mrs Elaine makes the sudden move, rook to take my bishop, my king left temporarily exposed. Her pearl necklace dangles down to the top of her chest, moving with each twist of her hand as she drags the piece gracefully across the board to put me in check.

‘Check, Mister Sanderson.’

Nodding, I look up at her, her brown eyes flickering with the fireplace heat behind me. Her draping brunette hair flirts with the middle of her arms as she shuffles slightly in the armchair and eyes me cautiously but hungrily. 

‘You really are playing for high stakes aren’t you?’ 

‘What made you ever think I was playing for low stakes Mister Sanderson?’

I watch her back just as carefully, smiling, touché. She reciprocates with full ferocity, her eyes ablaze. She wasn’t here for just the chit chat, there was something else on her mind. 

‘What are you playing for exactly Mrs Elaine?’ My brow furrows, the heat in the room growing as the sparks flick out onto the stone in front of the fire. 

I make a move with my far left pawn, ignoring her rook’s movements. Looking to my box on the table, I pick out one of my cigars, getting the thickest one and tilt the whiskey glass down my throat, savouring the sharp drops, enhanced with the dash of orange peel. I see her grow uncomfortable for a second, fidgeting in the chair and adjusting her dress. But the tension stays thick in the air, she’s stalling, so be it. 

‘This and that.’ 

Noticing the advances of my pawn and the vulnerability of her king to my rooks, she moves the white rook back a few squares to try and claw back some ground. 

‘Do I strike you as a man interested in vague statements Mrs Elaine?’

She is cornered, ready to flail as she is too late to stop my rooks advancing up the board. Her king is trapped. I feel the panic come washing over her, as her face turns a ghastly shade of white, away from its usual brown complexion. It’s a strange paradox, the rawness of her scent and fragrance drifting over to me, combined with her building anguish. 

‘I was informed I could buy my husband’s freedom tonight.’

Her move is more hurried, less considered than most she has made in the past twenty minutes. Two moves and she is done. 

‘Informed?’ Chuckling, I let the cigar ash fall to the ground as the whiskey melds with the ice and blow a collection of rings into the air, letting the tension simmer for a few seconds longer.

‘Yes, Percival called me last night, five hundred thousand to your account I was told.’

She uncrosses her legs, waiting on my next words. I snigger and take a quick swig of the whiskey, just the concoction I need to put me in the right state of mind for this discussion.

‘He tried to steal from the Estate, why would I let him go?’ A frown occupies my forehead again, I take another puff from the cigar and blow more rings in her direction as she turns her head to avoid the oncoming smoke. ‘A man should pay his debt no?’ 

‘He was desperate John please.’  

‘It’s Mister Sanderson to you.’ I fire back with a venom on my tongue. 

‘Mister Sanderson, he was desperate. You know the state he is in.’ She pleads for a few seconds with a whimper overcoming her. Far from the control she had shown all through our little match. 

‘A man can never be desperate enough to steal from his friend. It’s not honourable.’ 

‘I thought we were friends, I didn’t know you were so dangerous.’ She spits back with a dragon-like fury, her eyes registering genuine anger, her voice wavering as her emotions run wild with her. But there’s something else there, not quite lust, but something very sexually potent. She needs to be taken, that’s all become clear to me now, she will be mine and I’m not going to be very kind about it. I put the whiskey down on the coaster and stub the cigar out in the nearby tray. It was question time. 

‘Why didn’t you go to the police if you thought I was so dangerous?’ 

She stares into space for a few seconds, going to speak a couple of times before closing her mouth . She keeps fidgeting in the same spot whilst adjusting her short skirt.  

“Oh that’s right, stealing a million pounds worth of classical paintings is not looked upon so favourably by the law is it?’

‘I guess. But I…’ Exasperated, the words fail her. 

Grabbing the black queen I move her a few squares away from Miss Elaine’s king, my rooks trapping her in a pincer movement. Checkmate. 

‘Good game, you’re not bad Miss Elaine, you play like a woman with some experience on the board, enough skill to impress onlookers, but not enough skill to beat a master.’ She stares in dejection at the board and folds her hands in front of her. 

“Good game Mister Sanderson.” She mutters quietly. 

‘It’s true, if you had beaten me, the money might have sufficed. But I’m feeling a bit less...liberal about the whole thing now after your little spat.’ My focus turns to the two bodyguards standing at the other end of the old room, guarding the door. Clearing my throat, I give my instructions.  

‘Gents you can leave us now, we’ll be finished up here in a few moments.’

Acknowledging my need for privacy, the guards leave before quietly closing the door. I smile at Percival as he is the last to leave the room with a quick bow and a stately step out into the corridor before closing the big oak doors with a loud creak. Turning back to her, my expression darkens. 

‘Okay, let’s cut the pleasantries. It’s time to make things a little more interesting.’ I collect all the chess pieces and pull them to one end of the board before swigging the final drops of whiskey, the cool sensation running through my whole mouth.

‘Here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to be a good girl for me and bend over the desk. And I might let your husband go.’

‘Please, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything else. Is money not good enough?’

‘Your money doesn’t remotely interest me.’ She should know better than to bribe a Lord. 

I go to the cabinets at the side of the room, collecting a few items as I weave my hands over the leather straps and riding crops, trying to pick a weapon that can inflict maximum damage. As I rummage through the top layer, I spot the cat o’nine tails, one of my oldest whips, grinning devilishly, I pull it out with a swift motion and let her eyes linger on it. 

Walking back over to the desk I toss the handcuffs and whip down before taking my smoking jacket and folding it over the chair. She can’t keep her eyes off me, looking up and down my arms and across my chest, trying to keep her poker face intact as I glare at her.

‘Furthermore, you came here without underwear on, wearing a garter belt under that dress, exposed tights. I might be old fashioned Miss Elaine, but I don’t think the transfer of money was the first thing on your mind.’

She glows crimson red, speechless again. I smile wide and walk to the other side of the desk, clearing the papers and assignments I had been working on all day. Spreading my hands out across the desk I order her to me.

‘Come round here. I’m sure there’s some arrangement we can come to.’

She acquiesces slowly, walking over to me with an uncertain gait, like a deer caught out on an ice rink. Her hand strokes the desk too, feeling the deep grain. I see her brain whirring with a great ferocity trying to conjure some last minute excuse. She stands close to me, taking a sharp breath with a little pause before responding.

‘There’s just one issue Mister Sanderson, I’m not here for sexual favours. I refuse to be used that way.’ She slinks against the desk in front of me, testing my resolve and patience.

I tear her garter belt to one side, ripping through almost effortlessly as her lungs reach for air, a sharp intake leaving her as she relinquishes to my strength. Sliding my fingers along her opening, I slowly plunge two fingers inside her and feel she is soaking already, delirious with expectation. 

‘You’re a bad liar Miss Elaine.’ 

She stares, wide-eyed, her hands reaching for my face, but I pre-empt her. 

‘Don’t touch me. Do you understand?’

Nodding, she steps out of the ripped garter belt and leaves me to assume control. 

‘Rules are rules. If you don’t answer with a “sir” to every question, you will be flogged. If you come too quickly you will be flogged, if you dare use my real name you will be branded. If you disobey me too many times I will lock you up in my basement and use you many more times. I’m not a man to anger. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, yes John.’

‘Sir.’ Within milliseconds she has forgotten a rule, which necessitates her first punishment of course. 

I slap her mercilessly across the face and watch her grimace, her breathing experiencing a roller coaster of volume and speed all at once. I’m going to bruise her if she isn’t careful. 

‘Turn around. No more talking for now.’ Complying very quickly, she slowly raises her backside to me. The picture isn’t good enough for me though. Reaching for her top, I slide it over her head, letting the elastic fly loose, flinging it onto the floor and leave her completely naked, except for her heels. I remain fully clothed, draping my hands across her body and admiring her shape. 

I slowly insert my finger inside her again, this time curling downwards with a stroking motion against her G-spot.  Massaging her moist opening, I lick my lips with satisfaction, the sensation is rising in me again, the delicious drug of control returning to my veins. 

“Mister Sanderson, I…”

Grabbing her neck, I slap her with an almighty strike to her backside as she howls out with a scream, the blood flowing down to her regions. A little squirt of excitement leaving her and wetting my fingertips. 

‘Shut the fuck up.’ My tone is unwavering. My voice is completely firm. ‘You’re nobody. In here, you are my play thing, that’s it. I make the decisions. Give me your hands.’

She presents with no protest and I slap the handcuffs on her, leaving her no room to wiggle her hands as she rests them on the small of her back, her head turned to the side against the cool wood of the desk.  

I grow rigid, the hot outline of her sticky folds beckoning me forward. I undo my fly and stroke myself till my erection throbs against her skin. My girth feels like it might explode so as I slowly take her up to my limit, an inch at a time, feeling and savouring how soaked she is. She gasps and tries to muffle her voice, letting out a whimper and an intense moan of pleasure. She’s used to something so much smaller than this. Squirming in place with her hands repressed, she tries to look at me with a quick glimpse. 

‘Don’t look at me yet.’

I roll my hips into her to start generating friction, her core raging for me. I can sense her mouth lolling open as she takes my full length with full obedience, a loud whimper leaving her. A brief moment of reluctance opening up to a world of pleasure for her. 

I start with a swift rhythm, jolting forward with smooth strokes, going all the way in and out as she tries to muffle the cracks of joy in her voice. I’m in no mood for sensitive lovemaking tonight. My hips grind against her faster and faster as my glutes tighten to pulverise her with more speed as little droplets of sweat build up on her olive skin, the handcuffs sliding against the new pool of exertion. 

‘Oh god, sir, you’re so big, I can’t, I don’t know if I can hold it. You’re so big, I’m not...I’m not.’

Her eyes close as she meets me at the hilt. I slap her ass sharply and get it to a red enough colour to leave me satisfied. She wiggles around on my girth as I penetrate her deeper, my other hand latching onto her hip bone, guiding me in at just the right angle to hit her sensitive places. But she is building far too quickly for my liking. She is extremely tight, her lips squeezing onto every ridge in my erection and the crescendo in her voice sounds like she wants to come.

‘If you spurt, I’m going to punish you.’ 

‘But sir, I can’t, I can’t, hold it, please slower, please, oh, oh, oh my god, oh my god, I’m cumming.’ 

A huge cry of pleasure erupts from her as I feel her legs buckle and struggle to keep her on the desk, little shivers of ecstasy rolling through her taut and electric skin.’ Rolling my eyes, I stay deep within her before holding her cheek, her mouth hanging open with breaths leaving her in a rapid motion as she quickly bites down on her lip. 

‘The fuck did I say? Are you deaf?’ Slapping her forcefully again across the face, she cries as I draw blood from her cheek. I pull out of her sharply and grab the whip. There were ten strokes for coming early, she had to learn somehow. The whip feels good in my hand, the leather bearing into my skin as I get my motion down. 

She sees the whip but knows there is nothing she can do. One stroke, a moan. Two strokes, she yelps. Three strokes, she cries. I keep going with the strokes making her cry louder each time as the whip rips into her bottom, tearing at the flesh and bruising her harshly. As the tenth stroke approaches she tries to stop me with her hands in the cuffs, flailing them around in a helicopter-like motion before accepting her fate. I whip rapidly and run my palm over her bloodied bottom as sweat covers her face, like an athlete at the end of a tense workout, her sleek hair glued to her forehead.

‘That’s better. Good girl, you’ll learn, in time.’ 

She cries softly. ‘Yes sir, I’m learning.’

Happy for now, I take my girth and plunge back inside her, matting her hair in my fist. Adjusting my feet and kicking her legs out wider to put an arch to her back, I find the perfect angle to start pounding her with all my fury. There was no mercy in me tonight. Finding the pace again, I pick my speed up quickly, her hips leaning back to meet all of my inches. Claiming her like this is a sweet nectar, it drives me like nothing else. My length slides in and out of her effortlessly, caught between her tight walls as I feel her contract on my erection involuntarily. I notice the mirror just in front of us and make her tilt her head up to see me ravishing her.

‘Watch me in the mirror.’ She nods, blinking rapidly as my hips move back and forth faster and faster, harder and harder, smashing into her exposed core, she writhes with intense pleasure as I feel her start building again and pull her hair towards me ruthlessly. She yells out, an animalistic and guttural cry into the room as the fireplace crackles in the background of her voice. I cup her mound and rub her clitoris as she moans in unison with each rapid-fire stroke. The sounds of our bodies pumping against each other reverberate around the room, bouncing against every surface, her wet skin slapping against my pants and creasing them up. 

I could go so much longer with this girl, bring her to so many heights. But it wasn’t the time yet, she needed to learn her place first before things could go any further, I needed to make sure she knew she was completely mine now. This was going to go further than blackmail. 

‘Who owns you?’

‘You do, sir, oh please, oh gosh, oh my god, oh my god, can I come sir, can I come for you? I can’t hold it, I just can’t. Oh fuck, please sir, please, I’ll do anything.’

Satisfied with her performance I give my approval, letting her have her release as I shoot my voluminous liquid inside her as she grips the wood, screaming in ecstasy, her voice echoing around the room, the mirrors on the wall shaking precariously. 

‘Yes, that’s more like it. Let’s see you quiver on my cock, like a good girl.’ I leave her shaking and spasming for twenty seconds before slowly pulling out of her and gently massaging her entrance with my tip, letting the remaining liquid slip down her vulva, slide down her legs and onto the floor. As the droplets hit the floor, I give a quick grunt and bring my cock back inside my pants.

Smiling, I pull my fly back up and admire my handiwork. She’s breathless, a lake of sweat all across her back from the rigorous session, her legs barely supporting her as she slides down to the floor muttering the word “sir” over and over again. It was quite a furious climax she had, one of the finest girls I had trained over my desk. A swell of something raises inside me but I shake my head quickly and dismiss the thoughts, there was no need to get emotional so early. I shout at the top of my lungs to draw attention from beyond the door. 

‘Percival!!’

The heavy doors fling open as my butler storms in, scanning the room for me. 

‘Is everything okay sir?’ Worry pains his voice but I raise my hand to dismiss his immediate concerns.

‘Yes, fine, fine. Take her to the basement and lock her in the first cell with the single bed. But make sure she has plenty of water and food at all times, make sure she is modestly comfortable but not too comfortable. If she calls for me in the night, ignore her. However, she must wash tonight and she will be with me tomorrow at noon.’ She makes little protest this time as I grab her chin and lean in to whisper into her ear. ‘There is no release until I’ve had my fill of you. You will be mine for as long as I please. Your husband will remain so too.’