Authors: Teresa Noelle Roberts
“I want to be like her someday,” Selene said, hardly realizing she said it out loud.
Nick shook his head. “No, you don’t. I know the model, and trust me, you don’t want to be like her.”
“How about that flexible and that thin?” It was only after she said it that Selene, distracted by the sheer sensuality of the images, picked up on his cool, serious tone. Clearly there was a backstory she didn’t know—probably didn’t need to know, though she couldn’t help but be curious.
To her relief, Nick laughed. “That flexible, I can understand. But I like your body just the way it is. And,” he added, his voice taking on some of that hot, menacing quality that had attracted her from the start, “I’m looking forward to seeing more of it.”
Mesmerized, Selene reached around and started to unzip her dress. He reached behind her, caught her wrists. “Oh, I’m glad you’re as eager as I am, but we need to talk a little more—with our clothes on. Things we should have talked about before, really, but dammit, woman, you make it hard to think.” Another devouring kiss, and then he steered her toward the couch.
“Pull up your skirt before you sit,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “Being naked would distract us both too much—but a little distraction will keep you honest.”
And then he proceeded to ask her a series of no-holds-barred questions that made her squirm on the leather couch in a combination of embarrassment and lust.
After they’d gone over her experiences (fairly varied in the vanilla area, but limited in the kink department to light, playful spankings and a few experiments with silk-scarf bondage) and the things that were absolutely off-limits (she asked about his absolutely nots as well and was relieved to hear they agreed on the things they’d never, ever want to do), the subject turned to her fantasies.
“What draws you to BDSM?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I can put it into words. There’s so much… It’s always been part of my fantasies, ever since I was little and made my brother’s GI Joe do unspecified evil things to my Barbie.”
That cracked him up, but once he stopped laughing, he encouraged her to go on.
“Part of it is the idea of giving up control. The couple of times I’ve been tied up were heavenly, even though the guy who did it to me was probably a bigger sub than I am. He was just doing it so I’d tie him up and have my wicked way with him the next night. I’d love to be restrained more, more severely.” And how. She was getting wetter simply talking about it, imagining Nick spread-eagling her on the bed or putting her into some of the exotic rope-bondage positions she’d drooled over while surfing the Net. “And I’d like to take that further, to give up mental control once in a while, to put myself into good hands and say, ‘You’re in charge now.’ To please you if that’s what you want, or to take what you give me, your choice.”
“How far are you willing to go with letting someone else make the decisions for you? How about…erotic dares, maybe? Like would you want to be told to have sex with someone else?”
“Maybe. Depending on the circumstances. Especially if it’s a woman. I’ve had my bi fantasies, and I’ve kissed women before. The idea turns me on, but it never seemed like the right time go further than kissing. So being ‘ordered’ to do it…might be hot, as long as it was something she’d do anyway.” She grinned and felt herself flushing.
“Consent’s definitely key, even if we’re all pretending we’re forcing you. How about erotic pain—my flogger or cane or paddle against your skin, alternating with caresses? Because I know I’d love to redden your ass before I bent you over and fucked you.”
The words touched her core like skilled fingers. She squirmed, the leather couch tantalizing on her ass, but she couldn’t form words to answer.
“I take it that’s a yes?”
Her voice seemed to be taking a vacation somewhere, but she made herself speak. “Oh God, yes.” With all her darker fantasies within reach, Selene began to tremble. “But what if I can’t actually take it? What if I chicken out?”
Nick had been standing over her, looking stern and fierce and glorious, but suddenly he was sitting next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. “If that happens, we stop and try something else. It’s that simple.”
Snippets of erotica and posts from FetLife danced dangerously in Selene’s head. “Not to sound like a clueless newbie, but I am one. Is that really okay? Aren’t you supposed to be in charge?”
“For as long as it’s fun for both of us.” He kissed the top of her head, a gentle, tender gesture that nevertheless burned into her skin, into her spirit. “No matter what assclowns on the Internet say, it’s all right to use your safe word. This is all new to you, and I may try something that doesn’t feel good or freaks you out. If I do, I want to know—and I want to know whether you want me to stop or just slow down and let you get used to the sensation.”
Tension fled her body, tension she hadn’t been aware she was holding. “Red versus yellow. I’m new, but I’ve read a lot.” She leaned against Nick, aware of the skin beneath their clothing, aware of his heat, his strength and of a kind of tough gentleness she had never imagined in a fantasy dom but was glad she’d found in a real-life playmate. “And I’d like to try some of what I’ve read about, please.”
“Like what? What do you want to try first, Selene?”
Her mouth went dry as her pussy got impossibly wetter. “You said you liked rope,” she said, “and I’m curious about that.” She looked up and made herself meet his eyes. They looked bluer than she remembered, impossibly blue, almost navy. She could get lost in them. “And some light pain. I’ve been spanked, but never by someone who was really into it, and then whatever you think would be a good next step for a very curious beginner.”
“You and I are going to have so much fun,” he said, grinning. Nick kissed her again, a deep, devouring kiss. Then he stood and pulled her to her feet.
His eyes were still merry when he looked at her, but when he said, “Undress,” it was in a voice like dark chocolate and whiskey and sex, a voice that that stroked Selene’s core. His posture changed. His eyes became molten, heat within their blue depths. Even if she’d wanted to disobey out of a sense of mischief—and she was a bit surprised she didn’t want to—she didn’t think she could have.
Selene had thought he’d looked commanding before at times, a dominant in action. Now she realized she’d just gotten a taste. This man she was just meeting contained the funny code-monkey she’d been getting to know, but he seemed to be more somehow. Bigger. More intense. Scarier in some ways, but at the same time, safe. She could put herself into his hands.
She undressed in record time, letting her dress crumple to the floor, tossing her bra carelessly aside. “Shoes?” she asked, surprised by how hard it was to speak.
“Lose ’em. Heels are overrated. I want to be the only thing that hurts you or gets you off-balance tonight.”
Relieved and smiling a little at his good sense, she kicked the shoes away.
She wasn’t sure what she expected next, but it wasn’t for Nick to examine her so intently. He circled her twice, then settled back in front of her, staring unblinkingly like a cat studying its prey. The next thing will be that little butt wiggle before he pounces, she thought. A cartoon image of Nick as a cat popped into her head, and she fought back nervous laughter.
She lost the battle.
Suddenly, Nick, springing like the cat she’d envisioned, was on her. His big hand grasped her jaw and throat, gently but with unmistakable authority. No pressure, no physical danger, but a definite sense of menace, of claiming. “Something funny?” he growled. The dark gravel in his voice worked with the hand on her throat, freezing her in place. She shook her head, barely able to move even that much. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe from sheer sexual tension, but oh God, she might just come. He wouldn’t hurt her, but it was like a roller coaster or a monster movie where you got scared at something that wasn’t actually dangerous and enjoyed the hell out of the adrenaline rush.
“Very good. Stay right there. Don’t move.” Nick stepped away, leaving her bereft as soon as he opened a side door and disappeared from view. He returned quickly, set something she couldn’t see just beyond the open archway and returned, holding two hands of rope. “Hold your hands out in front of you.”
When he wrapped the rope around her left wrist, Selene’s heart started beating so fast she thought she might crack a rib. It was natural-colored and looked like a thicker version of the twine her grandmother used to trellis peas, but it felt surprisingly soft against her skin. She closed her eyes, wanting to focus on the sensations of Nick touching her, of the rope moving against her skin. He made a snug band around her wrist, then repeated it on the other side. When she opened her eyes, Nick stood before her, holding the ropes that connected to her wrists. He tugged on the ropes. “Follow me.”
He led her to the wide, open doorway that led into the kitchen. It was perhaps a dozen steps, but with the ropes holding her, with Nick leading her, it felt both instant and endless.
There were rings set in the wooden doorframe, spray-painted to match the dark green trim. One set was at roughly shoulder height, another single one above her head. Selene gulped. So much for her first impressions. This was definitely a den of iniquity—just a subtle one.
Using the rope ends, Nick secured her wrists to the rings at her sides. There was a bit of play in the ropes; she’d be able to shift around, change position a little. Still, she wasn’t going far, and knowing that was a delicious feeling. “Next time we’ll try something more elaborate,” he whispered, “but I wanted you to experience the feel of hemp rope. Feel the safety of bondage when I flog you for the first time.”
She shuddered violently at the word
flog.
It evoked vicious images of the British navy circa
Master and Commander
, a title that seemed much sexier when she was bound in a doorframe waiting to see what evil things Nick might do. But he was right about the safety of bondage. She felt…embraced, as if Nick’s hands and not pieces of rope were holding her in place. Delightful.
Nick leaned in and whispered in her ear, his voice a sinful caress, “Are you ready?”
All she could do was nod.
“Stick out your ass.” Wordlessly, breathing shallowly in little gasps, she obeyed. Nick ran his hand over the curve of her butt. “Beautiful. You have the perfect ass for spanking, round and heart-shaped and just the right combination of firm and soft. The kind of ass that makes a man like me think evil thoughts.” He demonstrated by grabbing one of her cheeks hard. It should have been uncomfortable, would have been under other circumstances, but instead it made her gasp and clench. “Very nice.” He lightly smacked the area he’d just grabbed, then struck the other cheek. Back and forth a few times, light and only mildly stingy, but making her feel warm, swollen, pink. Selene moaned and thrust her butt out more, hoping he’d take the hint and pick up the pace. “Oh, you’re a natural at this. But spread your legs more. I want to see the juices dripping down your thighs.”
As she obeyed, Selene’s face flamed, abashed that he’d see she was already soaked, her thighs already slick. Then she had a revelation. She was embarrassed because she thought she should be and because she’d had the bad luck to date a couple of guys who were intimidated by how sexual she could be. But Nick wasn’t intimidated. Nick craved her desire, wanted to see its evidence on her skin.
That knowledge aroused her even more.
Realizing this didn’t make her face feel less heated, but it was more a flush than a blush now, pure sexual excitement.
“Ready?” Nick asked again, but before she could answer, his hand struck hard.
Selene squealed and jumped in place. It hurt. That was her first reaction. It stung and burned, and instinct told her to pull away. But he stroked the skin he’d just smacked, and the throbbing discomfort shifted to a throbbing pleasure. “More, please,” she said before she could help herself—not that she wanted to help herself.
“Of course. But don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”
Come? Selene wanted to chuckle. Spanking might be a huge turn-on, but there was no way she could come without more direct stimulation. She was safe, although she had to admit the order not to come was exciting in itself.
That thought fled after a few more blows, a few more caresses, and instead she found herself wondering how she was going to manage to hold off coming until she got permission. She tried to count at first, but somewhere around twenty, her brain turned off its ability to do anything that rational and linear. Her ass felt huge, hot and swollen—but not as hot and swollen as her cunt. She throbbed all over, between the sweet, decadent ache in her pussy and the tender ache in her abused butt. Her head swam. She didn’t want to beg. She really didn’t. It was such a cliché, and she’d sound stupid, and…
And if she didn’t get permission to come, she was going to do it anyway. The combination of pleasure and pain was driving her mad. “Please,” she whispered, her voice doing that Marilyn Monroe thing again. “Please, may I come?”
Nick spanked her again in response, a quick flurry of blows she couldn’t quite process. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said, a hint of super-villain evil laughter in his voice.
Selene made a desperate guess. He’d never said anything about calling him
Master
or
sir
, but demanding—obliquely—at this point was a great way to fuck with her already foggy head. “Please, may I come,
sir
?” she gasped out and was rewarded with a hearty, “Come now,” and another good smack.