Lust: Dancing With The Devil (Part 1)

By The Secret Submissive

Lucille was dangerously beautiful. With an insatiable appetite......

Lucille was dangerously beautiful. With an insatiable appetite, she burned through men with neither reservation nor regret, leaving a wreck of shattered hearts and aching cocks in her wake. She was the forbidden fruit. Poisoning her victims with a toxic lust for her talented tongue and incredible body, Lucille thrived on the pleasure of knowing that just one taste of her sweet flesh could cripple the capacity of any man to love again… until she met Gabe.


“Okay then, we have a deal - I’ll fuck you. You get one night with me,” Gabe agreed, smelling the pathetic lust between her legs. “But don’t go falling for me,” he laughed, finally releasing her jaw. Lucille simply nodded, seduced by the beautifully dangerous glint in his wild eyes.


There she was, again, like clockwork. Keeping one eye on the pint he was pouring and the other on the entrance, Gabe smirked as Lucille Thomas strode through the heavy wooden doors of the pub and made her way over to her favourite booth, in the far corner. Tonight, she was wearing black, spray-on, skinny jeans - slashed at the knees - and a cowl-neck ruby cami that matched the shade of her plump lips and manicured nails. As he grabbed a packet of Scampi Fries and passed them over the bar, Gabe watched Lucille as she checked her immaculate reflection in the inky window and wrapped a length of poker-straight, platinum-blonde hair around her index finger. As she twisted and tightened the strand and caressed her smooth lengths, Gabe shook his head, feeling nothing but pity for the poor soul she had singled out for tonight’s entertainment.


Although he didn’t really know anything about her, Gabe had enjoyed watching Lucille from afar over the last few months and seeing how she operated. She was fascinating. He watched her tap her nude stiletto heel against the wooden floor as her watch struck 9.14pm and frustration began to brew; she hated it when they were late. As her flustered, flannel-shirted date finally arrived and lavished her with apologies and excuses, Gabe wondered how she would punish him because he was confident that she would. Between serving drinks and collecting empties, he quietly observed them, noting that Lucille was, without a doubt, making the boy work harder than usual tonight.


“Alright mate, can I have a bottle of Sol and a…” he wiped his clammy brow with the back of his hand, looking at the cocktail menu. Gabe popped the cap on the beer and smirked; he realised that Lucille was testing him with the classic, ‘surprise me’ card. “…I dunno,” he said, flipping the menu and hopelessly scanning the long list of drinks.


“Rhubarb gin and ginger ale, with a twist of lime,” Gabe said, recalling Lucille’s favourite drink. “Trust me; it’s popular with the ladies.”


“Nice one,” he grinned, swiping his phone over the card machine, feeling a small burst of confidence. As Lucille’s date returned with the drinks and added swagger in his step, Gabe waited for her reaction. As she wrapped her red lips around the straw and sucked, her eyes narrowed in disbelief, wondering how he could have got it so right. Her tongue tingled, delightfully, from the zest of the added lime but she wouldn’t allow herself to be thrown off-guard so easily and almost instantly, she slipped back into character. Softening her scowl into a feline smile, she extended her leg until her calf rested against his. Exercising her oral fixation, she licked the shaft of the straw and flicked her tongue over the tip, cruelly soliciting her date’s cock from its slumber. Although her eyes never detracted from his, Lucille knew that he was beginning to feel an uncomfortable strain in his jeans and she loved it. Across the room, Gabe chuckled, knowing he had shaved at least ten minutes of painful mischief from Lucille’s agenda and it wouldn’t be long before she slid her foot from her shoe and started teasing the boy’s inner thigh, allowing him some relief.


As the pair enjoyed a third drink and Lucille’s soft, polished toes continued their merciless assault of pleasure, Gabe returned from changing a beer barrel. Testing the pump, he glanced over towards Lucille, noticing the effect of the last round; her eyes were narrow and slightly glassy and her cheeks were flush from the alcohol filtering through her bloodstream.


“Tell me what you want to do to me,” Lucille cooed, leaning forward to accentuate her cleavage. Gabe moved over to the booth behind them, arbitrarily wiping the table with a dishcloth, keen to hear the kid’s response. He suppressed a smirk as Lucille effortlessly reeled in her plaything, dangling him on tenterhooks. “Well, if you’re lucky, you’ll be buying me coffee in the morning,” she responded, flipping her hair and relishing the way he lapped up every word. As he watched her, an involuntary snort exited Gabe’s lips, twisting Lucille’s attention towards him just as he rolled his eyes.


Who the fuck is he? She wondered, scanning every inch of the six-foot stranger who had just mocked her. Her curious eyes moved from his shaved head to the tattoo sleeve that peered from beneath his long-sleeved ribbed t-shirt.


“Excuse me?” she blurted, narrowing her eyes and glaring at him. In response to her unexpectedly strident retort, the snort morphed into a chuckle and spilt freely from Gabe’s mouth.


“Nothing,” he smiled with a politeness that bordered on arrogance. He had to remind himself that she was a paying customer and as much as the alpha within wanted to discipline her bratty mouth, she wasn’t his to do so. “Would you guys like another drink?”


“No, we were just leaving,” Lucille downed the last of her drink and slipped her foot back into her shoe. She tried to ignore the uneasy flicker in her gut as Gabe’s smile taunted her; she contemplated whether or not to ditch her plans for mediocre, sure-fire sex and briefly entertained the idea of sticking around for another drink.


“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Gabe said, extinguishing the curiosity behind her eyes before she assumed he was interested. He headed back to the bar before temptation could strike. As much as he knew he’d enjoy breaking in her devastatingly beautiful body, he’d dealt with enough spoilt, daddy’s girls to recognise the headache that would undoubtedly follow. She was most likely a vanilla princess looking for a single-serving of rough so she could brag about her wild, ‘kinky’ endeavours over Saturday-night martinis with her girlfriends, Gabe reasoned. Superficial fucking wasn’t Gabe’s style; when he welcomed a girl into his world, he wouldn’t settle for anything less than every precious morsel of her mind, body and soul.


I don’t need another wannabe submissive, Gabe reminded himself as thoughts of his former kitten prowled into his mind. His heart pricked as he recalled the moment Clara had revealed her indiscretions; he choked down the memory of dismissing her from his service and watching her walk away from him. Gabe had loved Clara with every fibre of his being – he had taught, nurtured, trained and disciplined her with kindness and patience but for her, it was just a game. Although she had called him ‘Sir’ by name, for Clara, it was nothing more than a word. Rinsing the same glass for the third time, Gabe pushed the image of Lucille’s bratty pout aside, resisting the urge to turn towards the door for a final glance.


As Lucille reached the exit, she swatted down the butterflies in her stomach and forbade herself from turning back. She’d dealt with enough arrogant, dark-and-stormy types in the past to know the heartache that would undoubtedly follow. She welcomed the abrasive autumnal breeze against her cheeks which reminded her not to be weak. Taking her date’s arm, she drew comfort from knowing exactly how the evening would pan out; in four hours, she would have taken what she needed, he would leave, and order would be restored. It was a perfect plan… or it would have been had Gabe’s wicked eyes and smile not made an unwanted appearance, every time she closed her eyes.

***




Keeping one eye on the pint he was pouring and the other on the entrance, Gabe felt a twang of disappointment as it was 9.14pm and Lucille Thomas was a no-show. It was the first Friday-night in thirteen weeks that she hadn’t strode through the heavy wooden doors of the pub and made her way over to her favourite booth, in the far corner. He laughed at his own weakness as he wondered what she would be wearing tonight. Lucille began to infiltrate the darkest corners of his mind as he wondered which pair of heels she would have chosen, what shade of lipstick would be adorning her lips… how sexy her wrists would look, bound tightly above her head.


“I’ll have a rhubarb gin and ginger ale, with lime… please.” Gabe didn’t need to look – he recognised the voice in a heartbeat. As he turned around, Lucille removed her jacket and propped herself up onto a barstool, greeting Gabe with a wide smile and a wider flash of naked thigh. Tonight, she was wearing a floaty black dress, with straps so thin, they were begging to be snapped. Her lips and nails matched, as expected, painted in an effortless peachy-nude.


“Sure thing,” Gabe said, tearing his attention away from her lips for long enough to process her order. As he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, Lucille watched him intently, checking out the ink on his exposed forearm while she wrapped a length of poker-straight, platinum-blonde hair around her index finger. As she twisted and tightened the strand and caressed her smooth lengths, Gabe smirked, realising he was the poor soul she had singled out for tonight’s entertainment.


“I’m Lucille, by the way. You can call me Luci,” she said, crossing her legs and letting her dress ride up her thighs.


“I know,” Gabe replied, plainly. “I’m Gabe. You can call me Gabe.”


“So have you worked here for long?” Lucille rolled her eyes at his deadpan attempt at humour and accepted the drink, nodding in satisfaction as she sampled it. She loved the way he had balanced the sweetness and sharpness just perfectly. Gabe had haunted her thoughts all week; the way he had mocked her, so flippantly, had smouldered in the back of her mind. As hard as she tried to forget him during the day, he would still slink into her dreams and ravage her, completely at night. She hungered to feel his rough hands caress her hips; she wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around his body and feel him slam every inch of his cock inside her tightness. Heat radiated between her legs as she contemplated how close she was to her accomplishing her mission.


“I own the place, Sugar,” Gabe laughed, wondering whether to set things straight immediately or whether to let her flirt for a while. He was adamant that Lucille would be going to bed alone and disappointed tonight but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy her little game in the meantime. “I’ve certainly seen you around,” he said, encouraging her efforts with a lingering look that she had often used to reel in her dates. Gabe had watched her from afar for so long that there was something quite nice about satisfying his curiously. If she was silly enough to play with fire, she had to be prepared to get burnt, Gabe resolved.


Before Lucille had a chance to respond, he moved to the middle of the curved bar to serve another customer. She remained in his peripherals and he noted how she cocked her head and watched him as though patiently waiting for him to return so they might resume their conversation. “No date tonight?” Gabe threw her a bone while he pulled a pint of bitter; she eagerly accepted, cranking up the flirt-factor.


“Nope, he’s working, actually… but I’ve got all night,” she smiled, running a finger over the condensation on her glass. “I’m a very patient girl…” Lucille watched the glass in Gabe’s hand fill to the brim as Gabe watched Lucille brim with desire. He eased off the pump without breaking eye-contact with her before handing over a perfect pint. He hated the way she watched him; he hated the way she rested on her forearms and pushed out her breasts; he hated the way she chewed the inside of her lower lip, pulling his attention to her mouth; he hated the way everything about her body made his cock stir and his fingers writhe to caress her and choke her. But most of all, Gabe hated how badly he wanted to fuck and hold her.

***




The bar steadily emptied of staff and customers until only a handful remained. Gabe rang the bell for last orders before moving back to the corner of the bar that Lucille had claimed as their own. “Want me to call you a taxi?” he asked. Lucille rolled her eyes, getting down from the stool. Her knickers were wet and her clit was swollen and needy – she had had enough of playing his frivolous games. Looking around, she saw that only one couple and an old man remained and they were both sat in the opposite corner of the pub; boldly, she walked around the bar until she stood opposite Gabe.


“You don’t come across as stupid,” she sighed and closed the gap between then, touching his forearm and breathing in the scent of his aftershave. “You know what I want so why don’t you lock up early and quit playing hard to get.” Jumping up onto the bar, she lifted her right leg and placed it on the ledge below the counter. With her legs spread wide, Gabe groaned as he looked at the way her underwear clung to her smooth lips. He really fucking hated Lucille Thomas. Taking a step closer, he felt the tension between them – thick, ripe and swelling by the second. She hooked a finger into his waistband and pulled him in, resting her thighs against his hips.


“Did it ever occur to you, Princess, that not everybody wants to fuck you,” he laughed, quashing the sense of irony that laced his words, as his lips hovered millimetres from hers. His rough stubble grazed her check as he swerved her bold attempt to kiss him. With an icy scowl, she grabbed his t-shirt and darted in again to claim a taste of his lips. She was far from ready to be rejected by this idiot of a man – if I want a kiss, he’ll sure as hell give it to me, Lucille told herself. Gabe grabbed her wrist and tossed her hand back to her side, making her jump in a way that caused her pussy to clench. She quivered with excitement and apprehension as he towered over her, keeping her in place with just a stern glance.


“Fine… maybe that’s true,” she scoffed, “but it looks like you’re not one of them.” Tentatively, Lucille reached out and stroked the semi in Gabe’s jeans. “Just admit it, you want to see me naked,” Lucille taunted him, pushing one strap of her dress down her shoulder, etching the idea of undressing her in the forefront of his mind. Ensnared in each other’s eyes, they barely noticed the last customers were leaving until the door rattled and slammed shut in the wind. Finally, they were alone.


The sweet scent emanating from Lucille’s honeypot swirled between them, sending blood rushing to the tip of Gabe’s thick cock. Thrusting her hand under his t-shirt, she narrowed her eyes and ran her nails down his stomach, making it clear that she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “I need more than a well-maintained body, Luci. How many drunk, wet little sluts, do you think, throw themselves at me like this?” Gabe snaked his hand under her hair, holding the nape of her neck as he pushed her buttons. She huffed, releasing her nails from his flesh as he squeezed with purpose. “That’s better,” he nodded, pulling her head back by the hair and kissing her neck. She gripped the edge of the bar for stability and groaned in frustration as his lips formed a tight seal and his teeth began to graze and his mouth began to suck with rigour until he formed a deliciously tender bruise on her soft, pale skin. A whimper escaped her lips as he held her firmly in position until he was ready to come up for air. “You don’t touch unless I say you can, understood, Sugar?” His heart thumped and blood rushed to his temples as he felt the land begin to slide from beneath his feet – he was tumbling into Dominant mode and Lucille seemed to only propel the motion.


“I’m not a fucking slut…,” she hissed. Gabe laughed, seeing that he had clearly hit a nerve. He tilted her neck and admired his handy work, petting her affectionately.


“I’ve seen you in action – you’re a real piece of work. How many of those poor fuckers get a second date?” Holding her jaw, he kissed her lips, feeling her anger and excitement as she pulled at his lower lip with her teeth. Caught in a battle for power and control, their tongues passionately duelled without care for breath. Just as he felt her heels against his arse, drawing him closer, he cruelly pulled away. Before he felt her nails again, Gabe grabbed her wrists and held them at either side of her head.


“I gave you a fucking instruction, Slut… do you understand?” Gabe loved how delicate her wrists felt in his hands. “If you want this, you’re going to fucking listen like a good girl. Now, you don’t touch without permission?” Taking her wrists into one fist, he squeezed her breasts, “you don’t touch here…” He slapped her thigh and then her pussy mound; “or here, and you most certainly don’t touch here,” Gabe squeezed his cock under his jeans, making Lucille almost salivate. She rolled her eyes in protest but knew that right now, he held the upper hand.


Yes… whatever, no touching,” she smirked and shuffled her arse closer to the edge as he kept her wrists clasped. “So, you like it rough? I’m down for that… just fuck me, right here, she said, snapping her teeth.


“You shouldn’t play with your food… taste me already,” she whined and bit her lip as she struggled to control her urges, feeling her pussy cream.


“Behave yourself.” He released her with a shove, needing to cool the sizzling heat that thudded between them. Brushing past her body, he left the confinement of the bar and went to lock the door. “Tell me, what do you know about BDSM?” Lucille whipped her head around, eyes following him like a puppy. Gabe had opened Pandora’s Box and Lucille was desperate to see inside.


“Like spanking and stuff?”


“Yes,” he chuckled at her naivety, “amongst other things.” As he pushed the bolt into the floor, he resolved to admit to himself that Lucille had, in fact, got her own way as he was going to fuck her tonight but he also knew that he was not going to be her plaything; she was going to be his. “Here’s how tonight is going to play out; I’m going to explain some basic rules of domination and submission and if we agree on them, okay, and if not, we say goodnight and I’ll call you that taxi.” Lucille nodded, leaning against the bar as he pulled up a stool opposite her, turning the tables. “Number one, your safe-word will be ‘red’ tonight. If things get too intense or you change your mind, you say ‘red’ and I stop, immediately. Agree?”


“Yes,” she swallowed hard and responded with feigned confidence, ignoring the nervous knot in her gut.


“Somehow I don’t think I’ll be saying no to any of that. I’m going to get what I came for…” she eyed him up like a tigress that had just been tossed a juicy steak. Gabe gave her nothing in return; he was determined to maintain composure.


“Number two, you follow my instructions. You don’t touch without permission; you don’t speak without permission… you don’t cum without my fucking permission,” Gabe suppressed a smirk as she furrowed her brow and huffed, petulantly. He couldn’t wait to teach her some manners.


“Fine, whatever,” she said, feeling her clit throb at just the thought.


“That brings us to number 3,” Gabe reached forward and stroked her silky blonde locks. “I want to discipline you for being an entitled fucking brat and one hell of a cock-tease.” He wound her hair around his fist until she was on her tip-toes - calves straining and the edge of the bar digging into her hips.


“Like, spank me?” Lucille squeaked the words - she hated the uncertainty in her voice.


“Yes… I want to spank your sexy fucking arse until you use your safe-word. I’m going to slap that pretty little face if you’re rude too,” he grinned. “No rolling your eye at me and no demanding anything. Agree?” Gabe rubbed her soft cheek with the pad of his thumb, encouraging her to respond.


“You slap me and I’ll fucking slap you back,” she glowered, trying to hide the fact that he was making her blush – she never blushed.


“You can have that one for free but it’s the only pass you’ll get, Sugar. We’ll see how fucking feisty you are when you’re tied to my bed, face-down, with your arse nice and high… ready to be beaten.”


“Yeah, you will…” Lucille’s words were meek but her eyes were alight with shameless desire. With every word he spoke, she was getting wetter and wetter. The battle for power didn’t even matter to her anymore; she was going to get Gabe’s cock tonight so in her mind, she had already won.


“Good girl,” he winked, releasing her hair and ordering her to stand before him. “Ropes or tape or chains?” he asked. The sound of her heels against the wooden floor reverberated to the high ceiling as she moved around the bar.


“I don’t know. What do you think?” Lucille looked up at him, innocently, starting to feel more and more out of her depth. Gabe loved the hesitancy in her voice – he wanted to feed it until it devoured her arrogance.


“Shall I surprise you?” he smirked, gliding his rough hand up her arm and across her neck. Grabbing her jaw, he pushed his thumb into her mouth and groaned as she sucked him, expertly, without any hesitation. She nodded in response to his question, fighting the urge to unbuckle his belt and tug his cock free. “Do you still want this or do you want to go home? Once you’re mine, I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want to you, I’m going to make you scream and beg for mercy…I want to see fucking tears.” His words slipped into her ear, driving her wild. “I won’t stop until I hear your safe word.”


She pulled away from his thumb with a wet ‘pop’; “I’m starting to think you’re all talk and no action…” her smile taunted him, as intended. “I told you, loud and clear, I’m not going anywhere until I get what I fucking came for,” she said.


“Okay then, we have a deal - I’ll fuck you. You get one night with me,” Gabe agreed, smelling the pathetic lust between her legs. “But don’t go falling for me,” he laughed, finally releasing her jaw. Lucille simply nodded, seduced by the beautifully dangerous glint in his wild eyes. With her tongue extended, she licked his index finger, from base to tip.


“Not a chance,” she sneered, grazing his finger with her teeth and biting down hard enough to leave a row of indentations; she looked up at him and waited for a reaction.


“You had your free-pass, Sugar,” he shook his head and awarded a firm slap across her cheek, forcing her to release his flesh. She scoffed in disbelief, covering her stinging skin with her palm as unexpected jolts of pleasure nipped her aching bud. Taking purposeful strides, Gabe backed Lucille against the wall, pressing his strong frame against her. Using his knee to part her legs, he kissed her red cheek and slender neck, feeling her wanton body rock and grind against him. “Disobedient little sluts deserve to be punished, don’t they?” His words tore away at the propriety that came with her birth-privilege; a heavy groan gushed from Lucille’s lips as she nodded, eagerly, and arched her body to feel his engorged cock through his jeans.


“Punish me then…” she challenged him, grinding with vigour as she dared him to give her another taste of his dark side. Her hands pushed up his t-shirt, touching and scratching his stomach and chest as she kissed him with wild passion, sliding her tongue against his until he put her in her place.


“Tell me you’re a cock-teasing slut who needs to be punished.” He pinned her by the throat and slapped her other cheek as she grinned wickedly into his eyes. She readily absorbed the sting this time and moaned as it quickly melted into pleasure, sparking a new addiction for pain. Her impatience spurred Gabe’s actions - he pushed her dress up around her waist and squeezed her puffy lips hard, drawing a long gasp from her insolent mouth.


“I’m a cock-teasing slut… who’s got you rock hard,” she laughed. “I’m going to fucking milk you dry and take exactly what I want from you… I don’t care if that’s before or after you give me a little spanking!” She giggled as he kissed her hard to stop her from talking. Her goading gave him every reason to choke the brattishness from her core and his fingers curled tighter, with utter delight. She nibbled his lower-lip and kissed him deeply until she ran out of air. Gabe smirked as he released her throat and heard a long rasp, watching her suck in as much air as possible to refill her lungs.


*Digital Artwork created by Sam Dalton