We retired to my room following another sold out show. My touring schedule was a grind, but I splurged on hotels, and only the finest hotels, whenever time permitted. It’s how I stayed fresh and at my best.

I dearly love my band and backup singers, but my voice is what pays all their salaries. No matter how good they are, and they’re terrific, without me, they’re all looking for work.

Once one of my shows is over, and I hang out for a while to wrap up any meet and greet obligations and to make sure everybody has everything they need, it’s off to my room.

And off with my clothes.

His sexual appetite is voracious, which suits me perfectly.

When we arrived in the suite tonight, I noticed restraints on the bed. My heart began to race and I could feel myself get wet, with just the anticipation. My clothes pooled at my feet and I stepped away from them, leaving myself naked for him. No mistaking my desire. I dragged my fingertips across my nipples, groaning as they popped back up and into place.

After checking the rooms, he appeared before me. He took my face in his hands, staring into my eyes, searching for my submission to him. My need for him.

Finding what he sought, he kissed me deeply, his hands roaming down to my ass, which he took the liberty of lifting and spreading before dropping it back down, making me squirm and whimper.

“Hell of a show tonight. I think the crowd was even louder than Seattle. Looked like you enjoyed yourself, no?” he asked me.

“The next time we pass through the Pacific Northwest, Marco says we might shoot for two nights each here and in Seattle,” I referred to my tour manager, Marco McEwen. He’d been trying to get me to have dinner with him, to become more than business partners, for the better part of a year. The tactic he’d employed was to flatter me senseless and give me anything and everything I wanted. I enjoyed being spoiled, but if his goal was to get me in bed, he was wasting his time.

My body and heart belonged to one man, and one man only.

“I like this part of the country,” my lover conceded, taking my hand to lead me to the bed. “More shows here sound good to me. Just need to squeeze in time to take a few days to go to Idaho while we’re here. Fly fishing capital of the world.”

I rolled my eyes as I scooted myself up to the middle of the bed. No matter that I grew up around a bunch of hillbillies, fishing had just never been my thing.

He leaned down and kissed my mouth and my neck, his hand dipping between my legs to gauge my arousal. “You’re soaking wet, Liane.”

I nodded my head vigorously.

“I could tell how horny you were by watching you dance. Your hips had that extra shimmy tonight. You enjoyed so many eyes glued to your body, didn’t you? Especially your ass.”

I nodded again, mouth closed, eyes wide open. I ached to get fucked.

Before I knew it, he had my wrists bound in padded cuffs and attached to the bottom of the headboard, spread wide apart.

“I was going to make you wait for this, but you look too good.”

He undid his belt buckle and lets his jeans fall, his thick cock springing free. He tossed his shirt aside and climbed up onto the bed, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he hovered over me.

He positioned the tip of his erection at my opening, rubbing it up and down, slowly. “Go ahead. Take it if you want it,” he commanded me.

I bucked and wiggled my hips, throwing my legs around him and hooking my ankles at the small of his back, feeling him sink inside me as I lifted my hips from the bed.

His hands rested on either side of my face, and he stared into my eyes.

“Do it. Rut yourself on me, my good girl.”

He knew that word devastated me, sexually. Just hearing it sent a charge directly from my ears to my cunt. I needed to be pounded. Having to lift and work my hips so hard to achieve penetration was frustrating beyond belief. I could get him all the way inside me, but only just; and with nowhere near the battering force that I craved.

He pushed himself an inch back, then another, so that it required a monumental effort on my part just to take him halfway.

I gritted my teeth and struggled to fuck him, but he just shook his head. “You almost had me convinced that you really wanted to get fucked. But don’t worry, I know how to motivate you.”

He reached back and unhooked my ankles, wrapped them in cuffs like the ones that held my wrists in place. The ornate, wrought-iron headboard had bars at the top to which he attached hooks.

He lifted my left ankle first, pulling it back over my head, bending me in half, hooking the ankle cuff at the top of the headboard. He repeated the same action with my right ankle, leaving me on my back in the same position I’d be in if I stood up, spread my legs wide apart, and touched my toes. Except I was supine. And completely naked. And as exposed between my legs as a human being could possibly be.

He set a pillow beneath my hips to provide me some small respite from the stretching ache in my hamstrings, before walking over to retrieve something from his duffel bag. He produced a short, wide, heavy leather strap. He brought it crashing down on the palm of his hand with a loud “thwack!”

I eyed it with terror, and goosebumps broke out all over my flesh. I couldn’t conceive of a more vulnerable position.

He grinned at me and advanced with the strap, kneeling on the bed between my legs. I was helpless, and petrified. My body lunged and lurched in my bonds against my will, fight or flight response commandeering my motor functions.

To no avail.

He gently let the strap lay upon my opening, the width of it concealing my labia completely and the weight making me tremble.

“Shhh,” he admonished me, bringing a finger to his lips. He reached between my legs and caressed my face, letting the strap slide down until I was bare again. He held it above my mound and let gravity bring it down, firm, but not hard, and I gasped at the shock of it.

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, and I bit my bottom lip and nodded.

The second time, he lifted it and brought it down with just a bit more force, right on my slick, needy entrance. I blinked back tears and nodded.

He gave me two more, in rapid succession, each a bit harder than the last. I began to pant, writhing against my bonds.

He began to spread the punishment around, applying the strap to both cheeks of my plump ass, making it burn and throb. Each time it crashed down, and the pain ratcheted up, my arousal burned hotter.

Satisfied with his work, he went into the bathroom and returned holding a small, round mirror. His erection jutted out obscenely in front of him.

He held the mirror where I could see the deep crimson he’d painted my formerly pale ass. I could also see that my labia had responded my becoming puffy and a similar deep red color, and completely soaked.

Setting the mirror aside, he lay down on his stomach with his face between my legs.

He blew softly on my pussy, cool air soothing the burn. He then did the same between the reddened cheeks of my ass, making me jump nearly out of skin with the jolt. No matter the liberties he’d taken with my body over the past year, the pain he’d trained me to endure alongside the unimaginable, indescribable pleasure, that part of my body remained something of a sanctuary, the last part of me that felt like any sort of secret.

Yet now it was laid completely bare.

His finger dipped and swirled into my pussy, collecting my fluids. I desperately needed him inside me, but this had more the feel of exploration, rather than pene- Oh!

After lubricating his index finger in my sex, he promptly entered my rear end with it. Directly in, no warning, no preparation aside from my blinding arousal. It was only a finger, not his massive cock, but it felt like his entire forearm was inside me. I was so stretched, so vulnerable, my mind so conflicted. The sensations from between my splayed legs threatened to overwhelm me, if unchecked.

His tongue helped to make everything right in my world.

Pushing the finger in my ass all the way to the third knuckle, he hovered a moment, watching my face, before engulfing my pussy with his mouth.

He began to French kiss my sex, his tongue working in time with the finger he’d shoved up my ass to send a swirling rapture up my spine to my brain.

I gritted my teeth and stared down at him with a furious intensity, an orgasm smoldering in my core. The finger inside me circled and probed as his tongue stiffened and slid easily in and out. If anything were to touch my clit, my entire body would probably just burst into flames, I figured. My head lolled from side to side as I babbled and moaned.

He increased the pace of his tongue and slipped a second finger into my ass, and I thrashed as my climax began to hammer away at the innermost doorway in my mind. When the orgasmic beast inevitably splintered the last of my defenses and found its way inside, my soul would surely be shredded by the razors of ecstasy. If only something would touch my fucking clit while he ate my pussy, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Time stopped.

Up on his knees, he sent his piledriving cock down inside me.

The angle was magical. Magnificent. Wondrous. With each thrust, the head of his cock hammered against something in the back of my pussy – my cervix? Whatever it was, it had never experienced such stimulation. An entirely different kind of pain filled my insides, a dull, bruising ache as he battered me.

The ocean of pleasure over which I hung began to bubble and froth, splashing against my face, tormenting me with possibility.

My thighs started to tremble as he relentlessly pounded into me, and the level of the water rose and lapped at my face. The gargantuan orgasm of my young life was upon me, lightning bolts searing my flesh inside and out. I was lost in the maelstrom, craving only to be completely submerged by it.

And then, the cable by which I swung was severed. I splashed and sunk, every inch of my body consumed at once by the orgasm.

Delicious. It drove me to a place I’d never dreamt of, much less visited. He silenced my scream with a hand over my mouth, my eyes flying wide to meet his as every muscle in my body was wracked with violent, simultaneous spasms.

Whatever he’d done to me went beyond climax, past orgasm, into a category for which no sufficient word exists.

He slowed his thrusts and was completely still as I recovered, save for his cock pulsing inside me. My heartbeat synched with his as my body responded to his powerful throbs and the roller coaster ride of sex with him began to ascend toward the peak again.

He started fucking me again, long and slow, the angle of my bondage making my legs and back burn with the strain. It was a more than equitable trade given the places his cock was reaching and the waves of pleasure radiating throughout my body. My hands clenched and feet balled up as I came again and again under his relentless assault.

As exhaustion claimed me, I noticed the change in his breathing that I’d learned signaled his impending climax. The overwhelming intensity of the moment forced my eyes shut, but he demanded I be fully present for the moment. No retreating inside myself would be permitted.

“My eyes, Liane. Look into my eyes. Now!” he commanded, aggressively. My sweat and his drenched my body, partially blinding me as beads rolled down my forehead and into my eyes. I locked eyes with him as he growled through his orgasm like a caveman, filling me with his come, making the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.

When it finally, mercifully, ended, he unhooked my ankles and guided my legs to fall gently back onto the bed. My wrists were next, and I rubbed feeling back into my extremities as he kissed my face and held me in his muscular arms.

I curled into a fetal position and he lay behind me, his fingertips caressing me all over while kissing my shoulders and the back of my neck.

* * *

I fell into a light sleep, awakening sometime later to find him lifting me from the bed and carrying me into the bathroom. He’d drawn a bath for me, wisps of steam escaping from between bubbles atop the oversized tub.

He lowered me into the scalding water, my entire body sighing with relief as I stretched like a cat. The bath was glorious, so hot I could barely stand it, but wonderfully therapeutic to my body after the series of punishing orgasms to which I’d been subjected.

Room service delivered grilled swordfish, veggies, and a sinful chocolate lava cake. I fell asleep in his arms, capping the most perfect kind of day. And night.

The Bay Area awaited two days hence, sold-out shows in San Jose and San Francisco.

How was this my life? What happened to Lia Morris, simple country girl from New Tazewell, Tennessee?

I was a woman now. And his. In every way he permitted.