Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

Maybe he had a new girlfriend—it had been over three years, after all. He’d obviously moved on. Maybe Nikki was his girlfriend. The thought turned her stomach. She’d just barely reunited with the man, but she wanted him. And she wanted him to want her in return.

  Grace turned to the boss-man. “If you’re going to make a whole series around me and my lack of experience, I think I should be better compensated.” She held her breath, wondering if he would call her bluff.

  Ricardo laughed. “You sure you’re not a lawyer like our Dom here?”

  She glanced at the smirk on Ian’s face and decided to pretend she had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone didn’t need to know she was a part of Ian’s past. “I want…twelve hundred a shoot.”

  “One grand and you don’t dare tell the other girls.”

  Grace glanced over at Nikki, who was smoking a cigarette in the corner, reading a magazine.

  “Why don’t you just pay all the girls a thousand?” Grace asked, unwilling to let this man pit her against the others.

  Ian laughed. “He already does, Grace. And now you’re getting your fair share, everyone’s happy, and Ricardo’s an asshole.”

  Ricardo shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Don’t wear too much makeup. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “No. You’re nineteen, Grace, got that?”

  Grace didn’t try to hide a look of disgust and walked out the door. So now she was the barely-legal virgin? Ugh.

  What had she been thinking? There was no way she should go back, despite the allure of making in a day what took her a week to make as a nurse. What if someone she knew recognized her on the website, or what if she actually got really injured?

  No, no one would injure her at that studio. It all appeared to be as Ian had promised—safe, sane and consensual. Still, that wasn’t Grace’s world. Would never—could never—be.

  But the whole “audition” had been such a turn-on to her. This might be the only way she got to see Ian again—for more than a quick “let’s catch up sometime” coffee, anyway. And it would be exciting to play out some fantasies…fantasies she never even knew she had. Now she had Ian’s voice in her head, calling her naughty, tugging on her hair, asking her if she wanted him to spank her…

  This was how she could be with Ian again, one more time at least.

  Tomorrow night.

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  Grace’s workday at the office seemed to drag on interminably, but it was five o’clock before she knew it—as if time had sped up at the last moment, rushing her toward her evening’s video shoot.

  She couldn’t do it. Once someone’s on the internet, they’re on it forever. What if her future husband wanted to run for President or something? He’d be horribly embarrassed when those pictures of her surfaced. And they would surface, even if her real name wasn’t attached to them. All the dirty laundry aired during a Presidential election.

  Yeah, keep focusing on your future husband, the President of the United States of America. Because that’s what’s important right now. She shook her head, trying to get out of her self-defeating sarcastic funk.

  Did she really think she could lead a double life, where no one knew she secretly made kinky BDSM videos for an online porn site at night, and be a nurse during the day? What would happen when she finally found a boyfriend? He’d never approve.

  Unless the boyfriend was someone like, say…Ian.

  Just the thought of him sent an endorphin rush through her. What would he do to her tonight? What if she didn’t like it?

  More importantly, what if I do like it?

  But she’d never done anything like this before. There was a very good chance she’d be completely turned off, hate it, and then what? Would she be forced to continue because of some stupid consent form?

  No. It seemed like a legit place, as far as she could tell. She’d be okay. And if anything happened where she felt violated or God forbid, raped, anything at all, she’d get that place shut down so quickly it would make their heads spin. It’s not like she was some drug-user coming in off the streets looking to make a quick grand or something. Grace knew how to take care of herself. So that settled it.

  She’d be fine.

  Grace set the office phones to the “night” setting, which forwarded them to the on-call emergency service that would page the doctor if one of his patients ended up in the hospital, and shut the lights.

  Time to go get dominated by Ian. And who knows what else would happen.

  *

  Grace had changed out of her scrubs and into her street clothes before she left work, and now waited at the studio in front of a wall of…implements, contemplating what they were for. Ricardo had suggested she wear cute cotton panties and a matching bra instead of the sexy thongs Nikki preferred, since Grace was supposed to be the young virgin. It creeped her out, but nineteen was more than legal, and she clearly had a woman’s body, so actual pedophiles shouldn’t be too interested in her. Hopefully. The thought of turning on a pedophile made her want to vomit.

  But Ricardo assured her that his subscribers and viewers were fetishists who liked bondage scenes and light sexual torture and BDSM. The whole “nineteen-year-old virgin” thing was just an added fun bonus for them (especially since she was, in reality, a twenty-seven year old who’d had either four or five lovers, depending on how one defined “lover”). Ricardo said they always made sure to show the girls having fun so there was no question as to whether or not it was consensual. And they always gave a safeword and honored it.

  Safeword. So much to learn. And a hand signal if she was gagged, which was something Ian had said turned him on.

  And the thought of turning Ian on…well, that got her hot. Very hot.

  Ian came up behind her, startling her out of her reverie. “I didn’t think you’d come back,” he said.

  “Me either,” she admitted, turning to face him.

  He smiled and leaned in close, so close she half-expected him to kiss her.

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know,” he said, his breath hot on her ear. “As much as I’d enjoy training you, and would hate to see you go.”

  “Then why are you trying to get me to leave?” she whispered back.

  “Because you don’t belong here. You’ve always been such a good girl—at least you were back when we were together. I don’t think you belong on a website such as this one.”

  Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. As much as she didn’t want to agree, Ian’s words rang true because he was right. She didn’t belong here, but it wasn’t because she was a “good girl.” She never should have come here in the first place. It wasn’t the website that excited her, or the money, or the idea of being on the internet for thousands of viewers to watch and fantasize over.

  It was just Ian. This new version of Ian who held the whip excited her, nothing more. Well…maybe more. More of the things he’d done to her during her audition. More of the way he made her feel…sexy, desired, controlled. Cherished.

  Grace looked up into Ian’s blue eyes, remembering the feel of his hands on her hair, tugging her head back until she was forced to return his intense gaze. She wanted more of that. But how, if not like this?

  “Ricardo’s not here yet,” Ian advised. “I could text him that you never showed. He’s home having dinner with his family, he won’t care. He’ll tell me to lock up and leave.”

  Grace took an uncertain breath. She had one last chance to make her decision to do this. A lot had changed in three years, and Ian was a different man now. Even if she desired him, was she willing to be on camera to have one last sexual experience with him? She glanced at the door. Flee? Stay?

  “He’ll be here any minute,” Ian said. “Decide now, before he gets here. Do you really want your image to be on the internet, naked, in bondage, forever? What will your children think if they run across it?”

  “I hardly think my future children will be l
ooking at old porn websites, if they’re even still around in twenty years,” she scoffed, but the vision haunted her just the same. And the idea of her on the internet, naked and in bondage, did little to excite her sexually.

  Damn it.

  “Okay,” she said. “You’re right. Text Ricardo and tell him I never showed.”

  “Good girl,” he said, pulling out his phone. His long fingers flew across the screen quickly, and he laughed. “Ricardo replied ‘Shocker. Lock up for me.’ Just like I knew he would.”

  Grace laughed and then looked around. It was dark out now, even though it was only around seven p.m. Only a few sections of the studio were lit.

  “Thank you for saving me from making a dumb mistake,” she said, picking up her purse.

  “You’re very welcome. Why are you picking up your purse?”

  “Um…because you have to lock up and I should go home?”

  Ian took a step toward her, a slight smile on his face that did nothing to stop the rush of adrenaline spiking through her. She felt like prey but in a really good way, somehow. Like she wanted to just lie down and let him…eat her like the predator he was.

  Yes, Ian, you can eat me any day. She giggled nervously at her own thought.

  “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “We have a whole playroom at our disposal. If you’d like, I can give you a taste of what you’re so intrigued by. A taste of what brought you back to me.”

  Yes! This was how she could have her cake and eat it too. Or rather, have some alone time with Ian without committing to an internet porn-site and a three page contract. “But, just for us, right? Not for the camera?”

  Ian nodded. “No cameras. No internet. Just us.”

  Us. How she missed his voice saying that, joining them with a single word. Every atom of her being wanted to respond with a resounding yes! but fear held her back. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “I’m not going to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. You’ve never shown interest in BDSM before—and it was too much for me to hope that would suddenly change.”

  But she didn’t move, didn’t head for the door. All this time thinking about Ian, only to discover that the Ian she missed had been replaced by a new man. A very sexy man. She’d never desired him this much in the past, not like she did now. That had to mean something.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “I’ll walk you to your car, then. We can catch up over coffee sometime. It was…really great seeing you again, Grace.”

  It couldn’t end, not like this. She wanted this. Why fight it?

  “Wait. I’ll—I’ll stay. Where do you want me? What do you want me to do?”

  Ian smiled, a brief look of surprise passing over his face so quickly she wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t known him so well.

  “I like the sound of that,” he said. “But first things first. We need a safeword.”

  “Okay. How about if I just say ‘stop’? Or ‘ow’?”

  “That depends,” Ian said. “Put your purse down.”

  She did, feeling shaky already, heady with excitement. Ian stepped in toward her, his physical strength and power so apparent as he stood millimeters away from her body, his body heat coming off of him in waves.

  “It depends on your fantasy,” he continued. “Do you have a fantasy of being hurt, of saying ow, of saying stop, and of having no control over what happens next? Do you want to be spanked until you cry, until you’re beyond begging, and I decide you’ve had enough?”

  She’d never thought that might be a fantasy before, but his words made her wet.

  “Your hesitation indicates those might not be good safewords for you, then,” he laughed. “Pick another.”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think straight. What’s a good safeword? What do the other girls say?”

  Ian took her hand in his, running his thumb over her pounding radial pulse in her wrist. “Let’s get one thing straight. You are not those other girls. I’m not getting paid to be here with you. I’m here with you tonight for pleasure—for you, and for me.”

  “Okay.” It gave her a little thrill to know he thought of her as separate, as special.

  He pulled her against his body, and she could feel his erection through his jeans. Their conversation was turning him on as much as it turned her on.

  Oh my God. Were they going to have sex? She hadn’t planned on having sex. Not tonight. Not on their first date since they split up.

  “Is this a date?” she asked, uncertainly.

  “Do you want it to be?”

  Grace laughed, uncertain, and not feeling up for inevitable rejection. “No.”

  “Good. I haven’t been the dating type since we broke up anyway.”

  Oh. Of course. Disappointment crashed through her, but what did she expect? That the man who broke her heart so he could whip women on the internet for a living was going to take her out to dinner and a movie?

  “Can I just say ‘safeword’, then?” she asked.

  “Yes. Safeword is your safeword. Good idea.” He grinned and stepped back, appraising her.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now you learn patience, and you start addressing me as Sir.”

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Yes, Sir.”

  Was this really happening?

  “Take off your shirt, Grace.”

  She peeled it off, holding it tightly in her hands as if she could transfer some of her energy into it to calm herself down.

  “Bra too.”

  The clasp in the back had never given her a problem before, but she fumbled with it until the cotton material slipped off her shoulders. Now she stood completely topless before him, wearing only her panties and denim cutoffs and flip-flops.

  Grace heard a sharp intake of air. Ian was looking at her with an appreciative expression. “Grace, you are very beautiful. Very, very beautiful.”

  She dropped the clothes to the rubber mat below her and fought the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. Not that she was embarrassed of them—he’d certainly seen them before—but he was staring at her body with such…possessiveness and intensity she felt overwhelmed.

  “I’m going to touch you, Grace,” he murmured. “I’m going to play with your pretty little pink nipples.”

  Images of him putting clamps on that other actress’s nipples flashed before her eyes, and she moaned with desire as he cupped her breast with one large hand.

  Either his hand was very warm, or her skin was very cool, but it felt like a gentle heat surrounding her breasts as he took his time touching her, massaging her, running his hands along the curves of her cleavage and the fold under her breasts where they hung heavy on her chest.

  “I like these nipples,” he said, taking one in each hand. He pinched both gently at the same time, very lightly, and desire coursed through her body. It was as if there was a direct connection between her nipples and her clitoris, which swelled with arousal inside her panties.

  She squirmed under his fingers, aware of the effect he was having on her…down there. Her pussy. Even thinking the word felt taboo and yet oh so right with Ian’s fingers locked down on her tender nipples, now hardened little buds.

  He pinched harder and she gasped in pain.

  “Breathe,” he commanded. “Breathe into the pain and let it turn into pleasure.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she obeyed, filling her lungs with oxygen, and the pain centered in her nipples flowed through her body in a rush of sensation that left her feeling giddy and high.

  “Keep breathing.” He kept his grasp on her nipples tight, not letting up on the pressure for even a moment, although surely only a few moments had passed, even if it seemed like an eternity.

  Ian pressed his body closer to hers, his denim-clad thigh between her spread legs. She ground her hips, rubbing her clit against his muscular thigh without shame as he
continued to pleasantly torture her breasts with his long hard fingers.

  “Like a bitch in heat,” he whispered. “That turns me on. I want you to come, Grace. Rub your little clit on me till you come.”

  Her breath hitched and she moaned, the sensations building in her, and suddenly he let go of his hold on her breasts, flooding the nerve endings with a new level of erotic pain when the blood came rushing back into her nipples. She came hard, bucking her hips against him, gasping for air as her whole body convulsed with the strength of her orgasm.

  Ian lifted her chin and kissed her, a deep, powerful kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. She would have fallen over if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly.

  “Do you usually kiss the girls?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No, I don’t. But I’m not working right now, am I?”

  “No, Sir.” She stood on her tip-toes and offered her lips to him again, but he just smiled down at her.

  “You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he said. “You might want to put some ice on those nips tonight before bed, maybe take some ibuprofen or something.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, you’re the nurse, so you can decide for yourself. That’s just what Ricardo usually says to the girls after certain scenes.”

  “Wow. Okay. Dare I ask what sorts of scenes?”

  Ian shrugged. “Anything where something could get sore. If you’re not used to butt-plugs, for example, you might hurt the next day. A hard paddling will definitely make you sore, especially if I pound the muscle.” He squeezed her ass through her cutoffs as if to emphasize his point.

  “Do you…like hurting women?” Grace wasn’t sure what the right answer was. Part of her wanted to hear him say no, that it was all just a job to him. Part of her wanted to hear him say yes, and say it in such a way that she could easily leave him, leave the fantasy behind and go back to her normal world where an orgasm didn’t come with a heavy dose of nipple torture.

  And part of her wanted to hear his explanation. Because surely, his erection didn’t lie. He was turned-on. But what exactly about what just happened turned him on?