Dom/sub

by B. D. Dark

  My eyes flickered open, and I stared at the green canopy overhead. “Whew!” I exhaled. “That was something! I think outdoor sex is my new favorite thing.”

  Kim sat up and smiled at me. “Me, too. It’s beautiful here. We have to come back again.” She leaned to give me a kiss, and I tasted wine and come on her tongue.

  We dressed and resumed our walk, but our bodies were sticky and dirty beneath our clothes ‑‑ the downside of bacchanalian sex. Something kept poking my rear, and when I reached down my pants I found a sharp, dry pine needle.

  Kim and I strolled back down the trail to our car, drove home, and luxuriated in a long, hot shower, cleansing each other thoroughly and with a maximum of rubbing.

  Chapter Nine

  After she’d lived with me for a few weeks, Kim found a job as an administrative assistant. It was a government job with great benefits, and she liked the workplace environment better than her last employment. She got along very well with her new co-workers and said it confirmed her decision to move was the right one.

  And so we carried on like any new couple in love, spending hours learning about one another, as well as having the best sex I’d ever experienced in my life. But swirling around everything we did both public and private was the undercurrent of the special relationship we kept hidden from the vanilla world.

  “Man, I’ve never seen you so satisfied,” one of my co-workers said one day. “What are you up to? Got a new girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. We moved in together.”

  “Seriously? How long have you been dating? I never heard about this.”

  “Not too long. It was…an unexpected relationship.”

  “Well she must be amazing, ’cause you’ve never seemed so happy.”

  Kim was amazing.

  Our initial negotiations in our relationship were resolved, and she deferred to me more all the time. She was growing in her role every day.

  Out in the world, Kim had responsibilities and demands, but when she entered our home she set aside those responsibilities and worries and deferred to my will. “You can’t imagine what a relief it is,” she once said. “I don’t have to think about what to do next. I don’t have to consider how what I do or say might affect someone. I simply have to follow your instructions, yet I don’t feel constricted at all. I feel liberated!”

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re happy, because I know I am.”

  “Listen to this passage I found in the book I’m reading. It’s the diary of a sub who’s been involved in the lifestyle for over twenty years. It perfectly describes what the role means to me. ‘The powerlessness of bondage or simply being forced to lie very still with all choices gone and giving myself to One is a big part of what pulls me deeply to BDSM.’” She turned to me with shining eyes. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

  I smiled wider. “You saying you want me to tie you up again?”

  She laughed. “Only if you want to.”

  “I always want to,” I teased and scooped her up in my arms to carry her to the bedroom.

  I was becoming a much better knot tier, although I still wasn’t as proficient as Mad Master. We met with Mad and Daphne on a semi-regular basis, going out for a meal or hanging out at their home or ours. He was tutoring me in the art of Kinbaku, Japanese bondage. I learned that the Japanese preferred short lengths of natural fibers like jute or hemp to the long lengths of nylon rope often used in Western-style bondage. The positioning of the sub’s limbs was also supposed to increase the pleasure for her, pressing into and arousing genitals rather than merely restraining.

  Seeing Kim tied intricately with her limbs stretched in awkward, asymmetrical positions was a huge turn-on for me, but that particular night I fastened her spread-eagle across our bed. Her white body in a big ‘X’ against the dark red satin sheets we’d purchased together was a beautiful Valentine. Her pale hair fanned in a perfect halo across the pillow. Her full breasts with their long, pink nipples rose and fell with her even breathing, and her sex was spread wide so I could see every convoluted pink fold of labia and the dark mystery of her entrance.

  After tying Kim to the bed, I lit candles around the room and took off my clothes, then carried one of the lit candles over to the bed.

  Kim licked her lips in anticipation. Her chest rose and fell faster as her breathing sped up.

  I tilted the candle and let drops of red wax fall across her breasts and twitching belly in artistic red swirls and lines. Drop by drop, I decorated the white canvas of her skin.

  She moaned and her eyes closed in rapture. When the hot wax hit the tender flesh of her pussy, she squealed and lifted her hips.

  “You like that, bitch?” I asked.

  “Yes. It hurts. You know I like it.”

  Kim exhibited an increasing enjoyment of pain and a capacity to withstand a great deal of it as our sex games grew edgier. That knowledge was a dangerous thing since it made me want to push the envelope further and further. Demeaning epithets had also become part of our sexual repertoire. At first I felt self-conscious and uncomfortable calling her a “cunt” or “cum whore.” It seemed artificial, theatrical, and negative. Besides, my feminist mother had certainly not raised her son to belittle women. But Kim encouraged it, telling me how it turned her on when I talked rough and dirty. It was easy to give in, since the forbidden words added a frisson of illicit pleasure.

  “How about this? Do you like this?” I coated her tits liberally with the melted wax, watching the liquid turn to solid sheets of scarlet while her body flinched.

  She whined loudly and writhed against her restraints. “Ow. God! Yessss! Make it hurt.”

  I let another few drops roll down her crotch and inner thighs, and she begged for more. The little wax burns would do no lasting damage to her skin, but would leave it pink and very tender. She’d told me that the achy tenderness of the burned skin only enhanced her pleasure when we made love later.

  Deciding she’d had enough for the night, I stopped and sat beside her on the bed, peeling the wax off her reddened breasts then plucking at her hard nipples and twisting them.

  Kim moaned and arched toward my hands.

  “We need to get these pierced. I want to see jewels hanging from them.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir. Whatever you want.”

  I enjoyed hearing her say it, and Kim played with it, giving me extravagant promises of submission. “Whatever pleases you is my desire,” she crooned. “My body is for your pleasure, Master.”

  I smiled at the litany of obedience. It had become a regular part of our bedroom play, and the best part was I knew Kim meant it. I peeled the wax from her crotch, leaving it sensitive and raw, then put a dollop of aloe lotion on my palms and rubbed it all over her tits and pussy until her body gleamed.

  As I rubbed the lotion into her pubis, she pushed her crotch into my hand. “Will you fuck me now, Sir, please?”

  I fingered her pussy. “Are you ready for it? Ah, yes, you are.” Her cunt was soaking wet, and it clenched around my probing fingers. I moved first two then three fingers in and out, pressing inside as far as I could reach, pulling them out then plunging in again. Finally, I added the fourth finger, stretching her wide.

  “More,” she panted. “Your whole hand. Fist me. Stretch me until it hurts. I want all of you inside me.”

  That was something we hadn’t tried yet, but if it was what she wanted, I was more than willing to attempt it. I tucked my thumb into my palm and carefully worked my hand into her yawning depths. My fingers disappeared inside with ease, but my hand stuck at the widest point. I paused, letting her acclimate to the sensation before I pushed any farther.

  Kim groaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as they drifted closed. “God, it’s so tight, so wide!” She raised her hips and bore down, forcing her body onto my hand. She made a small choking sound in the back of her throat, a strangled “Guh” of pleasure.

  It was intoxicating watching the lips of her vagina slowly stretch to accommodate my
entire hand. Her folds were bright red and shining with moisture. I pushed harder, opening my fingers slightly inside her channel as I deepened my exploration.

  Kim pulled against her restraints, writhing and groaning loudly. Her juices flowed copiously, coating my hand all the way up to my wrist.

  I felt her interior muscles clenching and pulsing around my hand, so tight and hot I couldn’t even move it. My dick throbbed, aching to be enveloped the same way. I attempted to withdraw my hand, and for a second, it stuck ‑‑ the fit of her body was so snug. Then her body released my hand with a sucking, wet sound as I pulled out.

  Kim cried out. Her arms and legs pulled taut, and her body arched. “Do it again! Fill me again.”

  I plunged my hand back inside her. The passage was easier this time. I pushed further inside her than I would have believed possible, my whole hand disappearing up to the wrist. Then I pulled it out again, soaking wet with her juices. Curling my fingers into a fist made my hand even broader across. Now that I’d stretched Kim’s hole impossibly wide, I wanted to see if I could actually fist her. I rammed my hand back into her dripping entrance.

  Kim howled and jerked. “Too much! God, it feels so…” She finished in an unintelligible gurgle.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  Her head whipped back and forth on the pillow, and she grunted, “More.”

  Slowly and steadily, I fucked her with my fist, driving into her without compunction, filling her completely. Watching her body swallow my hand was the most amazing sight I’d ever seen.

  Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and tears fell from the corners. “Oh yeah. Fuck me! Use me! Hurt me!” She grunted the phrases with each new thrust of my hand.

  Kim’s exuberance thrilled me. I withdrew my hand coated with her juices and wiped it up and down the length of my quivering cock. Pre-come dribbled from the swollen head, and I knew I’d spill on my own fist if I didn’t enter her soon.

  Crawling onto the bed, I lay between her widespread legs and pressed my cock into her yawning entrance. I entered easily on the slick of creamy moisture.

  “Fuck me, Master,” she whimpered. “Please, fuck me.”

  Her words excited me beyond reason, awakening my primitive, most basic self. I thrust into her as if I hadn’t had sex in years, as if we didn’t do it a couple of times a day, every day. I entered her fast, hard, and rough. I wanted to possess her, body and soul, until she had no will of her own but was merely an extension of myself. Every time we had sex those thoughts filled my mind, Possess. Control. Dominate, and now the words thundered in my head with each powerful thrust of my cock.

  Kim cried out and rose beneath me, stretching her bonds to their limits, pulling the tendons in her arms and legs. She came with abandon, her head whipping back and forth as she cried out words of surrender mixed with incoherent moans.

  I impaled her once more, then released inside her with a shudder. Collapsing on top of her, I reveled in the joy of our union. When my heart rate had finally slowed to almost normal, I lifted off her and lay, looking at her lovely face.

  Kim met my eyes with an expression of wonder in hers. “I’m really yours. Just now, it was like something clicked, and for the first time I felt it completely in every fiber of my being. I belong to you. I am yours.”

  My heart swelled at her heartfelt admission. “And I’m yours.” I stroked her face, pushing back sweaty strands of platinum hair.

  “This is what it means to become one.” She exhaled a long, quiet breath and gazed at me with her clear, hazel eyes. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.” I leaned to kiss her.

  Kim looked so beautiful spread across the bed, her taut limbs trembling, her pussy dripping with my come, that I left her like that for a little while. I gave her a drink of water then walked into the other room, leaving her tied up. The knowledge that I could leave her, and she wouldn’t complain but would wait patiently for me to take her again if I chose, was heady, powerful information to possess. I knew if I wasn’t careful I could misuse my power, abuse the trust she’d placed in me.

  I cooked a meal for us, but as I moved around the kitchen most of my consciousness was in the bedroom, picturing Kim awaiting my return.

  I fucked her once more before I released her from her bonds.

  After a long, hot shower, we ate the dinner I’d prepared then settled on the couch to watch a TV show like any “normal” couple on a weekday evening. But constantly humming beneath the surface of my mind was the knowledge that our relationship was unusual, special, and a little dangerous. I loved that awareness of being different.

  How deeply could we immerse ourselves in our roles? How different did we dare to become?

  Chapter Ten

  As the months passed, our games grew darker, and we reached deeper levels of consciousness. We gave up the apartment and bought a small house with a sweet little suburban yard and a quiet basement where no neighbors could hear our noise. I set up a dungeon to rival Mad Master’s, complete with an X-shaped cross I built myself rather than spend a small fortune on the apparatus. Over time, we experimented with whips, chains, shackles, and every torture device we could buy or invent.

  “The pleasure and pain are inextricable for me,” Kim explained once. “I can’t get off without the pain. I don’t know why I’m built that way, but I’m not denying it anymore like I did for so many years. I’m a pain slut. I thrive on it.”

  “A damn good thing,” I’d whispered, tightening the clamps on her flesh. “Because I love giving it to you.”

  Kim had her nipples pierced. I spent some time learning the joys of breast torture, piercing, clamping, burning, and twisting her tits like bonsai. The highlight was the night she hung completely suspended from them. Her hands were fastened behind her back, her throat exposed as her head fell back, her toes barely touching the floor. Her breasts were elongated and pulled up from her body by the lines attaching the nipple clamps to the eyebolt in the ceiling. She looked amazing, dangling helplessly. I left her that way for only a few moments, not wanting to damage her, but took pictures we could both look at later.

  Although she wailed in pain and tears streamed down her cheeks as she hung there, as I massaged her poor, tortured breasts afterward, Kim told me how much the experience had moved her.

  “I got there!” Her eyes were wide and excited. “Sub-space. I’ve read about it and flirted around the edges of it before, but now I know what it is. I can describe it to you, but you can’t imagine how it really feels unless you experience it. It’s an altered state of consciousness, like an out-of-body experience.”

  I had read about that state, but hearing Kim had experienced it thrilled me. I was glad to know she was getting as much pleasure out of the torture of her body as I was.

  “The pain was so intense I thought I’d pass out. I breathed my way through it, and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more and was going to shout out my safe word, I lifted up out of my body. It was amazing!”

  “But you were whimpering the whole time. You must have still felt pain.”

  She nodded. “I was in my body, feeling everything, yet outside of it at the same time.”

  I fondled her breasts, rubbing them with soothing, fragrant massage oil. “Do they still hurt?”

  “My nipples were on fire while I was hanging, but now it’s a dull throbbing that, honestly, kind of turns me on.” She reached out and cupped my cock, rubbing up and down its length.

  I was already halfway to coming from the entire erotic experience. It didn’t take more encouragement than her touch to spur me to flip her on her back and straddle her hips.

  * * * * *

  Sex and sadism became an addiction for both of us. If we weren’t having sex, I was thinking about it, imagining new scenarios to try out. When we were apart, I still gave Kim little assignments to perform at work, and when we were together, we talked about different things we could do. We spent less time going out and more time staying at home, as I turned down
a number of invitations from friends.

  Kim’s devotion to extreme torture began to seem excessive. There was nothing I might suggest, even as a passing fantasy, that she wasn’t willing to try. I worried there might be psychological side effects from our extreme sex play, but I was enjoying inflicting pain too much to put the brakes on and Kim gobbled up whatever I dished out.

  I was afraid we were on a downward spiral and talked to Kim about it one night. “It’s getting hard to know where to draw the line. At some point we have to stop, to say we’ll go this far and no farther.”

  “I know.” Kim rested her head on my shoulder. “But when I’m out in the world, all I can think about is what will happen when I get back home. My pussy is wet and throbbing almost all the time now from my fantasizing about what you’ll do to me next. I can’t get enough of you, of this.”

  Although part of me realized we were coming dangerously close to sex addiction, I managed to convince myself that when our initial experimental phase settled down we’d slip into dull routine like everyone else. We should enjoy the wild ride while it lasted. My justification and Kim’s very willing participation encouraged me to go deeper into both sadism and domination.

  We participated in play parties anywhere reasonably close we could find them. Socializing with other couples who understood us was a great help. Kim and I learned the joys of multi-partner sex and the thrill of seeing a loved one transported by ecstasy in another person’s arms. I didn’t feel I’d lost connection with Kim when I watched her fucking another man or woman ‑‑ or several at once. In fact, it strengthened my powerful feeling of ownership. I knew she’d abandon whatever she was doing in a heartbeat and come to me if I bade her to. I knew where her true devotion lay.

  One evening at Mad’s house, he pulled me aside. “The two of you are enjoying each other? Both satisfied?”

  “Yes. Completely.”

  “That’s good.” My mentor smiled. “It’s probably not my business, but that’s never stopped me putting my two cents in before. You and Kim are clearly having a good time, getting into your groove. Daphne and I are more about bondage, less about torture, but whatever the two of you like is cool. I just wanted to remind you of your responsibility. As a Dom, you’re her protector as well as her disciplinarian.”