Belle by Night

Rachell Nichole

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Anna by day, but Belle by night, Annabelle Stevens trades in her classroom ruler for a telephone and leather bustier when the sun goes down. With her heart set on finishing her Master’s degree and opening her own low-cost presch...
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Anna by day, but Belle by night, Annabelle Stevens trades in her classroom ruler for a telephone and leather bustier when the sun goes down. With her heart set on finishing her Master’s degree and opening her own low-cost preschool, she had to earn extra cash somehow. And as a phone sex operator, she makes more than she could working three day jobs. But when day and night collide, Mistress Belle’s favorite caller jeopardizes her normal life, and she has to choose--the dream she’s always wanted, or the secret identity that lets her be the Domme she truly is.

Widower Dean Wellington has one goal in life: to be the best father he can be to his autistic son, Preston. But when he realizes he’s falling far short, he fears he can’t give Preston everything he needs alone. When his search for a wife leads to one disastrous date after another, he finds solace in the unlikeliest of places: a phone sex operator. He knows Mistress Belle can’t be appropriate mother material, but when she orders him to bend his will to hers, he’s lost to the passionate storm she calls forth.

  When Dean realizes he’ll never find a better mother for his son than Preston’s teacher Anna, he has to choose between the Mistress that brings out his darkest desires, and giving his son everything he deserves. Little does Dean know that the choice may not be a choice at all.

  • Note:
    Belle by Night
Excerpt
I don’t want to have phone sex anymore!

Annabelle Stevens punched her pillow as the phone rang again. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have phone sex ever again, but damn it, tonight she was tired. Her throat ached; her voice was hoarse. She wanted to go to sleep. Instead, she pushed the button on her wireless headset.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, sweetie, got a caller who sounds a bit mopey and real nervous. Think he could benefit from your special brand of TLC,” Lainey said.

Belle couldn’t keep from smiling. Lainey, their HBIC—Head Bitch in Charge—ran Call Us Anytime. Along with several operators under her command, Lainey oversaw the nightly goings-on of the business. Together, they fielded callers and assigned them to the girls (and guys) around the country who were waiting for their next customers. Lainey could always tell when a new caller needed Belle’s certain form of harsh punishment. Usually it was men she’d identified as nervous or unsure of their first call. Sometimes they became regulars, sometimes not. Either way, Lainey was never wrong, and she knew her workers’ preferences better than anyone else in the company. It was the reason she still had such an active role in their basic operations, even though she could have delegated those responsibilities to someone else.

Belle gave a throaty laugh, her aching vocal chords making her voice sound even deeper than it usually did when she was in her phone-sex persona. “All right, put him through.” She cleared her throat. “I’m afraid this will have to be my last call. I know that ends my shift short, but too many more and I won’t have any voice left.”

“Oh, all right,” Lainey said with mock exasperation. “We’re kind of slow tonight anyway. Have a good one.”

“Thanks.” She took a deep breath, waiting for her new boy toy to come to the phone. She lounged back against her mountain of brightly colored pillows on her king-size bed. Her room shouldn’t have looked like a sultan’s harem since she was a grown woman, but it did. Honestly, she didn’t give a shit. This was where she worked the phones best. The deep purple and burgundy walls, large bed, and plush carpet helped her transition from her normal Anna world and put her in the Domme Belle mindset. She had a corner of overstuffed beanbags and ottomans as well, so if she got tired of being in bed or pacing the room to accelerate her breathing and heart rate, she could lounge on the pillows. Accent colors of bright pink and orange throughout the pillows and thick drapery helped add to the feel of boudoir rather than bedroom. The rest of her house didn’t match this kind of bold decorating, but she didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this part of her small two-story home.

A moment later, the audible click indicated her caller had come on the line. “Uh…hello?” he said.

A shiver ran through her, and she shifted against the soft, lightweight blanket beneath her. Oh, yes. There was that delectable unsure voice. “No one gave you permission to speak, pet.” She held her breath, waiting to see how he would respond to commands.

A beat of silence passed, and then she heard him exhale slowly. He stayed quiet.

“Good boy,” she soothed. She’d been doing boring vanilla calls all night. Now that it was almost midnight, her heartbeat finally picked up. Lainey tried to send her a kink call every once in a while. The more the merrier, in Belle’s opinion. “What are you wearing, pet?” She didn’t ask his name. She didn’t want to know it. Chances were he’d give her a false one anyway. Lainey had taken his credit card information, and certainly his real name was attached to it, but Belle didn’t need to know that.

“Um…boxer shorts,” he said breathily.

She could practically see him twitching, picture him squirming in his underwear. “From now on, pet, you will call me Ma’am, Mistress Belle, or simply Mistress. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His response was immediate.

“Good boy.” She made her voice smooth as silk, dark as chocolate. “What color are your boxers, my sweet?”

He cleared his throat. “Green, Mistress.”

“Very good. Are you hard for me already, pet?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He swallowed loudly.

She licked her lips. This is going to be such fun!

“Stroke yourself for me, pet. Right through your boxers. Nice and slowly. You are only allowed light touches for the moment. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He hissed.

Belle relaxed against the pillows and enjoyed the delicious sounds he made as he stroked himself. After a few moments of listening to his soft moans and quick breathing, she felt her panties growing damp. It had been some time since she’d had such fun on a work call. Far too long since she’d attempted to play Mistress in real life as well. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Stop!” she ordered and dipped her hand between her thighs.

He sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for her further instructions. “Such a good boy,” she praised. “Let go of yourself.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He groaned, making her sheath spasm.

“Pull your boxers down to your knees, but leave them there. You are not allowed to take them off.” A soft pant escaped her. She couldn’t help it. Her heart beat double time, and with each command, her desire wound tighter, making her ache.

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, the heat in his voice clear.

Belle nibbled on her bottom lip. “What a good boy you are, pet.”

“Mmm, thank you, Mistress.”

She squirmed. Heat suffused her body, bringing a buzz to her skin, a woozy feeling to her head. She took a deep breath, intent on keeping her cool. She could allow herself some enjoyment while being in command of him, but this was her job, and she needed to make sure she did it. Her earlier exhaustion had quickly become nonexistent. “You may use some lubricant and go back to stroking yourself.”

She waited a few moments for him to comply, and couldn’t help trailing her fingers down her body to gently stroke her clit. She gasped at the contact, growing wetter.

“Am stroking myself now, Mistress.” The dark edge in his voice made her shiver.

“Good boy. Now, I want you to imagine just what it would be like if you were tied to your bed, your wrists and ankles bound, unable to move as I stroked your cock up and down, hard and fast, until you were straining against your bonds, begging me to come, and just what my mouth would feel like around your cock.” She stroked herself faster, using the pad of her finger to tease her clit. Every time she issued an order, she got hotter. Every time she listened to him comply, she climbed higher toward the edge of orgasm.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. She could hear the wet smack of flesh against flesh.

A moan rumbled through her sore throat. She was getting closer. By the sounds he was making, so was he. She needed to make sure he didn’t finish without her. “You are not allowed to come until I tell you to, pet; do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His voice was tense.

Her muscles quivered, straining. She kept herself in check. “I am going to count to ten. You stroke yourself harder and faster until I get to ten, and then you are to stop. You will let go of your cock and massage your balls gently three times, then lie back and put your hands behind your head.”

She didn’t ask if he understood this time. He was completely pliant under her command.

“One,” she counted, increasing the pressure on her clit. She was so close. She might not make it to ten.

“Two.” She panted. “Three.”

He groaned. She barely held her orgasm at bay as she stroked her swollen clit over and over while counting. By the time she reached eight, she could barely stand it any longer.

“Ten,” she said, her voice a demanding purr.

He cried out, the sound a deep guttural plea of frustration. Good boy.

His dark voice whispered, “One, two, three…”

So close. She arched her back, her muscles clamping down. She let a whimper escape.

“Please,” he begged.

“Please, what, pet?” she demanded, using his new title like a weapon. She was in control. And she was sure as hell going to let him know it. If he wanted to be granted release, he would plead for it like a good boy.

“Please, Mistress, I can’t stop. I need to come. Please let me come.” The ache in his voice made her quiver.

She moaned. She was going to come any second. “I’m going to wrap my mouth around the head of your cock and suck hard. Slide your cock deeper into my mouth and until you hit the back of my throat. I want you to hold still while I fuck you with my mouth.” She kept stroking, then ordered, “Hold tight to your shaft and come in my mouth. Do it now, pet. Come for me.” She cried out as the orgasm rolled over her. She bucked uncontrollably against her hand, pleasure shooting through her.

He gasped and groaned in her ear, breath shaky. She gently stroked her clit, bringing herself down from the high as she listened to him squirm and pant. After a moment, she collected herself and remembered she needed to wrap up their call. “What a good boy you have been, pet. Now go get yourself cleaned up, and put yourself to bed. You can call me anytime.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She disconnected the call and slumped, spent, against her pillows. Always leave them wanting more. It was Lainey’s motto, and Belle knew that cutting him off just after allowing him release would leave her pet aching for more. She looked forward to their next call.

Copyright © Rachell Nichole

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