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Salé Sucré

French wine and arousing torment.
punishment for Olivia. 

“I’ll like to start off with a little wine tasting. I’m new to the environment, but I heard that your list is fabulous. Any wines that you can recommend for me?” I questioned, folding the earthy green menu back into one fold.

Our waitress smirked, French tipped finger pointing towards the bar in front of the bistro. In awe, I admired every shimmering bottle of liquor for display, the way the bartender skillfully whipped up a customer’s drink, garnishing the liquid with lemon and lime spices, the festive laughter of a loving couple clinking their drinks before engaging in a soulful kiss. As she asked me for my folded menu, she opened to the sets of wines, fingers tracing the area.

“Well, it seems that you’ve come to the right place. The most popular wine here has to be the Chateau Latour De Marchesseau. It has a very nice balance, very rich and attractive in color, tastes heavenly with our Cheese Plate as a starter. For a more grand meal, this with our Saumon grillé is very delicious.”

As I traced the picture of the wine, I had to give it to you, the crème color and agricultural design on the bottle did deliver an alluring sense. Agreeing to the wine and Cheese Plate, Chris ordered him a Lamb Shake with Sparkling Champagne, honey irises never leaving me as he ordered. I flushed, handing our waitress the menu, sinking lower into the fuchsia cushion of our seat, hoping that he hadn’t seen my flaring cheeks.

“What?” I questioned after a moment.

All he did was smile, chestnut freckles twinkling like emeralds against his honey skin.

“This is a great environment for punishing, Olivia.” He whispered, the seductive husk in his voice sending shivers down my spine.

I tensed, speechless from his words, stomach tightening at the image of me sprawled across his lengthy legs, ass flushed in crimson red from his heavy palm. The vibe of the restaurant was mellow, for families were dispersed in the bistro, roaring in joyful laughter.

“But Chris,” I protested, “I haven’t done anything to deserve punishment, unless-“

“You serious?” Chris softly barked, thanking our waitress with a head nod as she gave us our drinks and Cheese Plate to start off.

I immediately grabbed my drink, throat a little parched from the direction this conversation was leading to. The roaring husk in his voice became clearer, sexier, and lethal; it was all a start to Chris’ vicious side.

“You’ve done plenty of things these past few days. Being an idiotic dominant, I let those things pass with only a couple of spanks. But now that I think back, you didn’t deserve those light punishments.”

I set my drink down, disappointed in myself for letting things transpire badly. Days ago, Chris flew out for business, leaving the house to myself. I’m only reserved to enter such rooms in our vast penthouse. There was a room that only Chris had access to down the hall of our bedroom, and ever since I took a quick peek of it, Chris would warn me of punishment if I ever tried to slip in again. But he was gone and I had access to answering my curiosity of the room, so half the day, I bobby pinned the door entrance till the door clicked. With one step in, ferocious heat, the lovely smell of his spicy cologne and crimson lighting drew you in.

Every instrument that he used on me for punishment colored the room, even the more extreme toys that he warmed me up for the future were there. As if I didn’t experience the rough wrath of these toys, I went around, softly caressing each one, the image of the punishment heaving back in memory and sending thrilling chills down my spine. Just as I scraped my finger against the leather whip, a husky voice coughed, knuckles grazing against the wooden material of the door. There was Chris, body nicely tucked in a relaxing V neck and grey sweats, face fiery in fury.

“I should’ve used one of the toys present, but I let you off.”

Devouring a piece of cheese, I groaned, the taste of the cheese fantastic with the fruity lingering of the wine.

“Let me off? You punished me with no sex for two weeks, Chris. That might not be punishment for you, but for me, it was a living hell.”

Chris sipped his Champagne, etched lips pursed in an amused smirk. 

“Believe me baby that was punishment for me to. An amusing punishment at that. Every night, you thought I let you off the leash and I tempted you to your last breath.” 

He released a throaty chuckle at the thought, continuing.

“Remember I brought home those crates of wine? Ha, you thought that I was easing the punishment, ‘cause I know wine helps you relax. You thought that I was about to fuck you senseless on the dining table and I egged the thought on. Then right there, you were vulnerable and I was powerful. You fought me for the dick and I put you right back in your place.”

Setting my wine down, I crossed my arms over my chest, eyeing him with unruly hatred. That was his plan all along.

“Then I must’ve had you questioning your stance in this relationship. Why would a dominant like you need to prove to me that you’re in control? Hm, do I scare you baby?”

“Ma, you’re testing the waters in the wrong place. Don’t fuck with me.”

I was amused. I indeed did frighten my own dominant. I sucked the powerful gene from him during my “waiting punishment” and he felt it. Standing from the table, I eyed him carefully, hands firmly pressed on my waist in authority.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I whispered, inching closer to his ear, “you don’t have the balls to.”

Walking away from the table, I followed the sign to the lady’s restroom and walked into the stall, pulling my underwear down. As I used the restroom, I wiped my fore head, easing the hammering headache Chris was leading me to with the entire conversation. The thrashing opening of the restroom door startled me and I quickly finished up, seeing what the ruckus was about. Smoothing my dress down and flushing, I slowly opened the door, frightened of what I might see. God was I right.

As I exited the bathroom stall, there was Chris, leaning frame mimicking his stance when he found me in his secretive room in the pent house. His face contained no amusement but enraging fury.

“You know me better than to question me in public,” he hotly muttered, inching towards me.

As I tried huddling back in the stall, Chris’ burly fingers caught my arm, flinging me against the bathroom wall. Groaning from the cold stone, Chris wrapped his fingers around my throat, knocking the sweet oxygen from entering my lungs. The intoxicating fury pampering his manly features opened the infuriating throne to Chris’ anger, his cheeks flushed red and hold against my throat dangerously tight. Quickly turning me over, he kept his grip tight around my throat, pressing my front against the cool tile.

“Who’s scared now?”

He taunted, stout lips scraping against my skin. I groaned, leaning into his lean body, hoping my vulnerable stance for him to ease up on the grip would work. He released a throaty chuckle, finally easing up on the grip, but fingers still lightly trapping my throat. With his other free hand, he traced my plump ass through my sheer dress, palm quickly slamming against it as he traced it. I whimpered.

“And if s-someone walks in?” I questioned.

“Who gives a fuck?” He muttered. “All I care about is making you cum…”

Releasing his fingers from me, I inhaled sweet oxygen, shuddering against the tile as I gained composure. Turning my head, his fingers fumbled with his dress pants, unbuckling his belt.

“Did I tell you to turn around?” He hoarsely questioned, pressing his body against mines again.

Wrapping the belt around my wrist, the grip of it was tight against me and I groaned. Releasing his hands from touching my body, he ordered me down to my knees and I stumbled to the floor, eyes watching his flushed face. He sneered, releasing his immense cock from his boxers, slapping the fleshy length against my jaw.

“Keep that damn mouth closed,” he warned, continuing to slap his cock against my cheeks.

I heard small talk, scampering of feet, roaring of laughter; I tensed. If someone had walked in on this, man. The thought of it frightened me. Shutting my eyes, I moaned as his fleshy cock continuously smacked against my cheeks, scraping against my lips and patting my chin.

“Now open your mouth,” he replied, swiftly easing his cock through my plump lips once I opened my mouth.

I groaned against his enormous size, the taste of the slight pre-cum pampering his pink head deliciously salty and thick in texture. Whirling my tongue along his sensitive head, I released his head from my lips, tongue lapping the side of his cock. His fingers pressed against my fore head and I winced, satisfying bliss coloring his face as I watched him. Pulling away from his cock, he ordered me to open my mouth and bring my tongue toward and I obeyed his order.

“This fucking mouth of yours,” he whispered, slapping his cock against the heart of my tongue.

I moaned, the slapping of his cock against my tongue turning me on. After a moment of those, he gripped my head and forced himself back into my mouth, warning me to not move.

“Put your fucking tongue out,” he roared.

Bringing his pelvis towards my face, I groaned, the feel of his flushed head stretching down my throat. I held in my roars and grunts of pleasure as he sensually fucked my throat, closing my eyes to solely concentrate on opening my throat for his tremendous length. His moans of pleasure had thrilling tremors coursing through my veins. Stopping his thrust, he shuddered, slapping his cock against my tongue again.

“Feels good doesn’t it? He questioned, releasing his cock from my mouth.

“Yes. I love p-pleasing you daddy,” I whispered, throat burning from his rough thrust.

Smirking, he ordered me back to my feet and to face the wall. Pulling my sheer dress up, he yanked my lace underwear down my legs, ordering me to step out of them.

“Open up,” he whispered against my skin, pushing my underwear in my open mouth.

I groaned against the lace fabric.

“You don’t want to bring a crowd in here do you? You’re a screamer baby. You better be fuckin’ happy I’m being lenient with you,” he hoarsely replied to my groans.

Leaning my head against my tile, I jolted when his burly palm crashed against my ass numerous times, a humorous dark chuckle released from his lips. Mentally, I kept count of how many times his stinging palm spanked my ass just to erase the delicious image of his cock thickening inside me as he thoroughly fucked me. The more I thought about it, the more I would just want him buried inside me.

Ending the spanking, he gripped my body, bringing me backwards to bend me forward. I whimpered, the access to hold the wall restrained with my wrists bounded together behind my back.

“Spread ‘em,” he advised, patting my thighs to spread apart.

Doing so, he caught a fistful of my auburn shoulder length hair, bringing my spread body back against the tile. Keeping my legs spread for his pleasure, his warm mouth hovered over my shoulder, slithery tongue licking my shuddering skin as he eased his hot cock into me. The fine pressure of his thickness spreading me had both of us groaning, bodies cocooned together in a perfect puzzle piece.

“Spit those panties out ma,” he ordered, “I wanna hear you.”

Doing as he ordered, thick saliva slipped from my lips as I pushed the fabric from my mouth. As they fell to the floor, he wrapped his robust arm across my neck, locking my head against the crook of his neck. My back arched painfully against his concrete abs, thighs quivering as I tried to keep them apart.

His strokes were gentle, teasingly mesmerizing and delectable at first, but as his cock snuggled in my wet entrance, the beast within him rumbled to life. Gripping my face with his free hand, he ordered my trapped neck to look at him. To keep my eyes intent on his till I came.

“Next time, you fucking disobey me, I won’t let you off the fucking hook,” he grumbled, eyes tracing my trembling structure.

I cried against the choke hold, the feeling between my legs rushing and boiling deliciously.

“You understand me?!” He shouted.

“Yes! Yes! Ah, I do daddy!” I bawled.

At this point, I hadn’t cared if anyone walked in on this delicious yet tormenting punishment. I egged Chris on with this, mistaken his gentle words outside for granted. I opened this demonic throne of anger to release from Chris. Circling his head, the thrusts became too much to bare and I shouted, an alluring smirk pampering his cheeks.

“You’re gonna cum for me baby?” He taunted.

Yes, yes, yes. I was so close to losing it all.

As I nodded against his choke hold, he stumbled forward, bringing our mushed bodies to the bathroom tile. Whining, the heavy sensation of his flexed hips hammering against my aching ass drew me deeper to my release and I adored the feeling. As I came closer to releasing, his released his choke hold, bringing both hands to sit above the curve of my ass. I hissed as he began smacking my aching skin in the same areas prior.

“Oh! Please! C-Can I please cum?” I stuttered.

He never said a word. Just continued to drill into me with his gifted cock. I didn’t think I could hold it in any longer.

“Go ‘head,” he whispered, “cum.”

Shuddering, I released all that I had, falling down the wall off his engorging cock. He chuckled darkly, letting me fall onto the floor, body trembling from so much pleasure. Bending down towards me, he gripped my quivering jaw, pressing a tight kiss against my lips.

“Don’t get too relaxed,” he breathed, “this is only the beginning of your punishment.”

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