Dom/sub

by B. D. Dark

  “It wasn't a choice,” he answers, stepping away, leaving me chilled. Until his body heat was no longer there, I hadn't realized we'd been pressed shoulder to thigh the entire time. I strain my entire being trying to find his warmth, but his footfall tells me he is walking away. I don't beg further; the threat of both gag and blindfold is too scary to consider. Ice clinking into a glass reminds me of a scene from Nine and a Half Weeks and I think perhaps that this will be okay. Of course, I am blind, bound. Lord Draco is a complete stranger. Hell, I can’t even remember his full name.

  Holy crap, I've broken every safety guideline ever created to ensure safe, sane, and consensual play, including forgetting to establish a safe-word and establishing play boundaries.

  My mouth opens and closes a dozen times to state my concerns; however, fear keeps me silent, the threat of a gag working wonders on my psych.

  “You look like a goldfish.”

  Icy condensation raises gooseflesh when he slides his glass up my arm without warning.

  “Was there something you wish to say?”

  I shake my head, wanting to beg him to take off the blindfold but fearing my loss of voice more, knowing that if I need to scream…I want to be able to SCREAM!

  “Good. Then we’re ready to begin.”

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! That was my chance! Maybe my only chance at establishing a safety net. Yet the sinister side of my brain retorts that it could have just been a sly trick to encourage speech thereby giving him the excuse to use the gag.

  “Perhaps you are wondering about ‑‑”

  I hear him swish liquid over ice and then his swallow as he drinks. Cool lips cover mine, tasting surprisingly of iced coffee. Very strong coffee, heavily sweetened. Then his lips are hovering over mine as he whispers into my mouth the rest of his question. “ ‑‑a safe-word? Or limits on today’s play?”

  He lifts the glass to his lips again and this time when his lips cover mine, he drizzles iced coffee over my tongue. Forgetting the question, I suck the last drop off his, forcing his tongue to stay in my mouth long after he would have withdrawn, sucking on his tongue as if it were his dick.

  “It seems you have an artful mouth. Why don’t you show me just how good you are with your tongue? Do you want to please me in this way?”

  I nod, unwilling to risk the scene’s turning bad because of my failure to comply.

  “Kneel!” he shouts, startling me into quick compliance. I don’t question, just drop to my knees as if I’ve done it a million times before. I am surprised that his hand stays firmly wrapped around my upper arm, lending a stabilizing force when my restricted balance would have seen me fall onto my face.

  “Soon, kneeling with your arms secured behind you will become second nature,” he promises.

  I have to listen carefully to hear the slide of his zipper. His hands close around my shoulders to position me where he wants me. Positioned, his hands trail up my neck, one cupping my chin, the other disappearing, until it dawns on me what is happening. His hands alternately guide my face and his penis toward each other. His circumcised head slides between my lips and I catch its helmet shape between my teeth, not letting him penetrate my mouth completely. I have never sucked a man blindfolded. It is a new sensation, being on my knees, unable to see, but able to smell and feel his closeness just from the heat coming off his thighs. I am surrounded by a dark cocoon of musky, perfumed heat, and it is nice. I decide that being blindfolded isn’t so bad after all. I nip the head of his cock, holding him, barring him full entrance into my mouth.

  To let him know that I’m not being disobedient, just playful, I circle his head with my tongue, pressing my teeth into his flesh just enough to elicit a soft intake of breath, then sucking in more of his length. He feels large in my mouth, both wide and long. I can’t help wondering, is he extremely well hung, or an illusion brought on by my lack of sight? I suck him deeper. His pubic hair teases my nose and the silky feel of his stretched skin tickles the roof of my mouth before teasing the back of my throat. The spicy scent of expensive men’s body wash clings to his nest of soft, curly pubic hair. I inhale deeply, seeking the unfamiliar scent of this man.

  He pulls out a little and a soft moan leaves my mouth. With alternating licks and draws, I pull him back to the deepest part of my throat, encouraging him to slide deeper into my throat as I suck harder, trapping him where I want him.

  I love the feel of a man’s silken head caressing the cave of my throat and often imagine that if I could establish a comforting rhythm I could orgasm in my mouth.

  Relaxing, I suck harder, encouraging him with my own moans to thrust harder. It is just beginning to feel that I could prove my theory, rubbing back and forth, back and forth, the sensation in the back of my throat as close to orgasmic as anything else I could describe when his hand winds into my hair and forces me to release him. Pulled to my feet, Lord Draco shoves me forward.

  “You have a very talented mouth. I’m almost jealous of the man who taught you to do that so well,” he growls.

  Without warning, pain sears through my right nipple, pain that buckles my knees, and without the strength of his hand wrapped around my bicep I am certain I would have fallen, but I don’t, I stand, my breath hissing in between my lips as I remember to breathe. It is only once I have inhaled and steadied on shaking legs, nipple throbbing, that it registers that he placed a nipple clamp on my nipple and remarkably, I am ready for the bite of the clamp on my left nipple, barely making the hissing sound at all when the sharp pain rips through my chest. I stay standing, I breathe…I embrace this measure of pain ‑‑ and I enjoy it. He tugs on the clamp, tugging my nipple, making the pain tenfold, and still I enjoy it. Gritting my teeth, because it is still pain after all, I rub my face hard against his shoulder, a distraction, a comfort against the flares of pain now radiating through both breasts, and I hide my face; even when he pushes me to stand straight, I hide my face against his sleeve to hide my smile.

  Turning me around, he shoves me. I falter and fall when my shins collide with the mattress but it is a controlled fall, his hands wrapped around my waist to slow my descent.

  The silk cords wrapped around my upper arms dig into flesh and I squeal, feeling like my muscles will soon pull away from bone. Funny, I’d almost forgotten I was bound.

  “I wish only to please you, my lord,” I grunt, wishing that I could see.

  His weight follows me down, pinning me, holding me. I panic, pushing my face against the mattress, trying anxiously to dislodge the blindfold, begging, “Please, don’t hurt me!” He laughs.

  “Are you afraid, Julia?”

  Ice-cold metal presses against the middle of my back and I scream, imagining a knife, imagining my death in a pool of crimson blood against fine white linens.

  “Yes,” I whimper.

  The sound of scissors cutting the fabric of my tap pants brings momentary relief.

  “I'm not here to hurt you, Julia. Pleasure you with pain, perhaps, and make you confront your most terrifying nightmares, but I will never injure you. Do you understand the difference?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, hoping that I do understand.

  “You almost pleased me too well. But it isn't time for me to lose control.”

  Cool metal teases my hip, making me shiver as fabric separates.

  “After today, I will teach you to wear what I like. No more of these G-rated lacy numbers.”

  “Yes, Lord Draco.”

  Turning to the crotch of my tap pants, cool metal snakes between my thighs, teasing the heated outer lips of my vagina. Icy, cold metal slides against my slickness and I fear being cut. The combination of fear and sensation plays havoc with my mind and a heavy fullness fills my groin. I know I'll be dripping wet by the time he finishes.

  “And definitely no pastels. You're not a little girl anymore, Julia. Some men like that look. I want to know that you're a hot-blooded woman: sexy, passionate, a little on the wild side.”

  “Yes, Lord Draco.”


  With a quick tug, he pulls the scraps of lace from beneath me, baring me completely. His hand slides over my bare ass. “Do you think I can tame you, my petite dragon?”

  “I don't know, Master.”

  His hand stills. I’m not certain whether I shocked him with brutal honesty or the use of the title Master. Jonathon's warning returns to haunt me. You've gotten too fucking Sammy for your own good. I tense, waiting for the repercussion, and was startled by his bold laugh. “God, you amuse me, Julia. Now, maybe I can amuse you.”

  His hand falls over my ass cheeks, a solid hard slap, followed by several softer stings. I don't count; I don't do anything Jasper would have required. I’m not sure if it is because I am stunned into silence, too shocked by the turn of events, or because Lord Draco hasn't commanded me to do so. By not counting, I have no idea how many swats I’ve earned; however, one thing is certain: by the time he finishes, my ass is on fire.

  Rolling me onto my side, his lips barely caress mine before he sits back. A quick, unexpected flick against my nipple releases the clamp attached to my right nipple. I hiss, squeaking a little in response to the fresh flash of pain that flares through my breast, and then my back arches as his mouth closes over the sensitive skin, sucking. I moan, arching hard against his mouth, his tongue a tease of nips and sucks that leaves me breathless. Then another unexpected flick sees the second clamp forced away. I expect his mouth to leave my right breast to give my left nipple the same relief but he continues to suck and tease. I feel his fingertips slide over the round of my breast…and then pain as he pinches and twists the nipple hard. I scream, the pain intense compared to the teasing treatment my right nipple received.

  I squirm but he holds me tight. He pinches the nipple again, harder, twisting, pulling.

  “God damn!”

  “That isn’t your safe word, Julia, and you’ve just earned your first punishment from me for cursing. Do you want me to punish you?”

  I remain stubbornly silent.

  He removes the blindfold to look into my eyes. If he expected tears, there aren't any. Reaching over to the top of the nightstand, he retrieves a shiny foil packet. Tearing it open, he removes a plain condom, no ridges, no glow in the dark colors, no added flavors. With practiced ease, he fits it over the tip and slides it down his shaft one-handed and in a single stroke.

  “I'm going to fuck you now. Do you have a problem with that, Julia?”

  If he was shocked that no tears grace my cheeks, his asking permission astounds me. I shake my head.

  He shakes his head in return.

  “Not good enough, Julia. Ask me to fuck you.”

  I close my eyes, no longer able to bear his penetrating gaze. I try to remember how to form words.

  “Look at me.”

  Opening my eyes is the hardest thing I’ve ever done but I comply and it seems that he sees clearly into my soul. I long for him to replace the blindfold.

  “Ask me.”

  “Please, fuck me,” I manage to whisper. His eyes grow dark with his desire. He doesn't even attempt to hide it from me.

  “Say my name when you ask me,” he demands.

  I feel his erection. Cool latex slides against the inside of my thigh, and the need that has been building since entering his hotel room explodes in my groin. I want him to fuck me. I NEED him to fuck me.

  “Please, fuck me, Master!”

  “Not Master, Julia. I am not Jasper. Say my name.”

  My brain implodes. Of course, he is not Jasper! Still, I am not sure what he wants. Am I to call him Everett? Or Lord Draco?

  Closing my eyes against his stare, I try to think, try to figure out which name will get me fucked the quickest. A soft bite on my cheek gains my attention.

  “I didn't give you permission to close your eyes, Julia.”

  Forcing my eyes open, his penetrating gaze once again takes me by surprise, hypnotizing me. This time the words come out easily.

  “Please, please, please, fuck me, Lord Draco!”

  He rubs his silken head against my clit, but nothing more, reprimanding me, “Not Lord Draco, not yet. I am Everett, until you earn the right to honor me more with my title. Beg me with my name, untamable dragon.”

  I twist against him, trying to maneuver his penis between my legs. Writhing with need, I beg, “Fuck me, Everett, dear God in heaven, just fuck me!”

  The tip of his condom-encased erection plunges into my soaked vagina and stops, withdrawing slightly before he plunges again, only to stop. I cry out in agony, longing for him to shove his length completely inside, knowing full and well he will not fit until I stretch. He presses again, and I feel the ultra-thin flesh of my vagina begin to tear under the pressure. My head tosses against the pillow involuntarily and guttural noises leave my mouth.

  “God, please, just do it!” I scream and he answers my demand, pushing into me, forcing my unwilling skin to stretch, but barely; he isn’t in and I know he isn’t in, but I am shrieking with the orgasm that crashes unexpectedly over my body.

  “Look at me, Julia. Look at me when you come.” I look, deep into his eyes, seeing the golden flecks against the deeper forest green of his irises, and seeing deeper within a look of longing and need so deep and profound it terrifies me, but I can’t look away, and his gaze holds mine until the flood of sensations blinds me.

  I have never come so quickly or so strongly, my body bucking wildly, trying to accept all of him but he forces me still, shushing me, and as I come back to myself I know that he has not yet completely filled me. I sob, feeling that I have somehow failed him.

  Caressing my arms, he continues to gentle me until at last I am calm beneath him.

  “Please lay still. I’m afraid I’ve already torn you. I don’t want to hurt you, Julia.”

  “It’s my fault,” I sob, not going with my first instinct, which was to apologize.

  “What is your fault, honey?” he asks, stroking my hair back out of my face.

  “I’m too small. You’re too big.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t a problem we can’t work through.” His fingertips stroking over my brow are like super sweet honey, lulling me. Each caress relaxes me deeper. “God, you're like a virgin; so incredibly tight. You're a gift, Julia, a rare, precious gift. I want to take my time, stretching you, molding you to contain me. Is that all right with you?”

  I nod, barely, my limbs and head seeming weighted. Each stroke of his fingertips over my brow, soothing me more and more, until I can barely keep my eyes open.

  I feel him withdraw and cry out at the loss of his penis inside me.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Eyes closed, I hear him walk across the room. A zipper opens, then closes. I only realize he’s returned to the bed when I feel the mattress shift beneath his weight.

  “I’m going to use lots of lube and my fingers inside you until you are relaxed and stretched enough to take me inside of you. Is that all right with you?”

  I nod, mumbling, “Yes, Everett.”

  The words are barely from my mouth when I feel the cool, wet intrusion of greasy lube. I tense, not at all sure why I agreed that this would be okay; but then a single finger slides inside of me, hooking up, finding my g-spot with expert precision and I am writhing beneath him. His other hand presses into my pelvis, holding me where he wants me, while he manipulates my most sensitive spot. I am blown away by the intensity of sensation and am screaming with the force of a second orgasm before I even realize it is going to claim me.

  “I’m sorry, Everett.”

  “Again you apologize, Julia. Why?”

  “I didn’t ask permission to come.” I pant, still writhing beneath him because his fingers haven’t stopped moving and indeed, with the addition of more lube, a second finger joins the first inside me.

  “I will never require you to ask permission of me to come, Julie. I expect you to surrender every response ‑‑ every moan, every wave of ecstacy, every orgasm ‑‑ immediately. Do not hold b
ack, Julia; whether your screams are from pleasure or pain, just give all to me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Neither of us speaks as he unbinds my ropes and then reties me in a different position. My eyes widen at the sight of a velvet pouch dangling from his left hand. Cupping my chin and lowering his mouth, he distracts me. He gently grazes his lips over mine.

  “Arms okay?” he asks.

  “Achy,” I answer.

  “To be expected I suppose.”

  “Yes. I suppose.”

  His teeth playfully nip my cheek. I eye him from the corner of my eyes, watchfully assessing his mood, which seems lighter, more carefree than before.

  “Ready for more?” he asks softly.

  My heart quickens, my breath stills, and my twat clenches, reminding me that I am too sore for more. His lips, trailing down my neck and over my collarbone in a fashion so tender that it brings tears to my eyes, are the deciding factor. Play with Master Jasper was anything but playful. He had only one speed: fast and rough. This new man seems anything but fast or rough, although I realize at the thought that my bottom still stings from the hand delivered spanking he gave me when I arrived and I fear my vagina has been shredded; however, nothing, absolutely nothing could stop me from having sex with him one more time.

  His lips travel over my jaw and up my cheek, leaving playful nips and teasing licks in their wake. The ache in my belly intensifies, becoming a steady, undeniable throb. I want him. I never hoped to feel that feeling again after losing Master Jasper but here it is, not solely a desire to fuck but a longing to get to know the man, a need for him to master me.

  “I want you inside of me,” I state confidently.

  His eyes sear mine with the intensity of desire flowing from his.

  “Yes, but there's no need to rush, eh? We can have some fun first.” He nuzzles my face with his cheek. Beard stubble awakens the skin on my cheek. “Do you want to play, Julia?”

  I smile; I can’t help it. I will never grow used to his asking permission.