Velvet Submission

by Violet Summers

  "Stand up," she commanded softly. "Let your Mistress care for you, for a moment." He thought to protest. All he wanted—all he wanted—was to serve her, but she stopped him with a gentle finger on his lips. "It pleases me to do so," she said, and that was all he needed to hear.

  Once he was standing, Megan dropped gracefully to her knees. Her fingers, so slender and delicate looking, made swift work of his tangled laces, and she quickly had his boots and socks tucked neatly under a small occasional table near the front door. When she looked up at him, she did it with what he knew was deliberate slowness. She let her azure gaze brush over every inch of his body and his body responded, growing taut as a violin string, waiting only for her expert touch to play him.

  She stayed in her calculatedly submissive pose long enough for the alpha male in him to respond, to imagine those plush pink lips wrapped around his dick as he fucked her mouth into Nirvana. Then she met his eyes with a look so Dominant, so knowing, it scorched him clear to his soul.

  Moving so slowly each tiny nuance was torture, she reached up and worked open the button on his leather pants. It was his standard work uniform—leathers and a Velvet Ice Security t-shirt, occasionally topped by a black jacket if he needed to be "dressy" but with her eyes crawling all over him, he felt as if he'd been commanded to wear the leather for her pleasure. And from the lazy, kittenish smile on her face, she was definitely pleased.

  In a few seconds that lasted an eternity, she dealt with his button and zipper, and peeled the snug leather down until it pooled at his feet. Then she stood with one lithe movement and strolled to the living room. Tossing a coy look over her shoulder she murmured, "You may join me once you've cleaned up your belongings," then disappeared through the doorway.

  *

  Megan was nearly vibrating with excitement. She'd had a bad moment when she realized Gregori had stopped just inside the front door, and another when she understood that he'd done so because he was afraid to trust her. She'd deserved that caution but, dammit, it had maddened her. It made her all the more desperate to put her mark on him in every way possible; his complicated mind, his beautiful body and his bruised heart. She wanted to brand him so thoroughly he'd never have cause to doubt her feelings again.

  She forced herself to sit on the couch as she waited for him. She allowed herself a small smile as she imagined him neatly folding his clothing before presenting himself to her. It was a mere two minutes later that he entered the room, and Megan's smile widened even as her mouth went dry.

  So incredibly beautiful, she thought. His fair skin a creamy gold, his eyes dark and intense with emotion. God, she wanted to eat him up one slow bite at a time.

  "I'd like a drink, Sug," she murmured. She was inordinately proud of herself when the words came out steady. Lord knew she was trembling inside. "You may bring me a glass of wine from the kitchen," she added with a languid gesture to the doorway on the opposite side of the room.

  Those expressive eyes grew turbulent, but he ducked his head and obediently moved through the room and into the kitchen.

  Oh, damn but the man had a fine, hard ass.

  She listened with growing amusement to the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he searched out a wine glass. Then the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing. Her eyebrows lifted at the clatter of ice-cubes from the dispenser, then lowered in understanding and appreciation when he returned to the room holding a large plastic pitcher filled with ice and cradling the bottle of Pouilly Fuisse that had waited in the refrigerator.

  He moved to stand in front of her, then dropped to his knees with no prompting on her part. He placed his impromptu ice bucket on the floor and poured a glass of wine, which he offered her with surprising elegance. Megan thought the smile might never leave her face.

  "Everything about you pleases me, sugar," she told him, reaching out to sift her fingers through his hair. "I am going to take such good care of you," she added as his eyes kindled with a joy so intense it looked almost painful.

  She took a small sip of wine and let the complex flavor roll over her tongue. Lovely. She could only think of one thing lovelier.

  "Would you like a sip, Sug?" He tilted his head slightly but, well-trained sub that he was, he didn't raise his eyes when he answered.

  "If it pleases you, Mistress, I would."

  Megan tipped his head back with a finger under his chin, and let him watch as she took a deeper draught of the wine. His eyes widened in appreciative understanding as she lowered her mouth to his, allowing him to drink from her lips. His throat worked convulsively as he swallowed the vintage, and she savored his slight jump of reaction when she darted out her tongue to steal a drop from the corner of his mouth.

  "You may undress me," she murmured against his mouth.

  *

  Gregori eagerly reached up to undo the buttons of her lace-patterned blouse. She caught his hands in hers and gave him that wicked smile that had first turned him inside out two long years before. "With your teeth, Sug," she added, and he groaned.

  He locked his hands behind his back because he didn't trust himself not to cheat, and leaned in to nuzzle the fragrant valley between her breasts. He caught fabric between his teeth, hissed in frustration when he couldn't work the button loose, and finally yanked it loose and spit it on the floor.

  Megan gave a low laugh. "Naughty boy," she scolded, threading her fingers through his hair. "Do it again so I can punish you."

  Gregori was thrilled to comply. One by one he bit free her buttons, revealing her creamy skin and a deep amethyst demi-bra. Chort poberi. She'd faced down her father with her succulent pink nipples all but naked under her nearly sheer blouse.

  Once all the buttons were disposed of in a satisfactory manner, he raised himself higher on his knees. When he reached eye level, he moved in and buried his nose in the seductive hollow of her collarbone, inhaling deeply of her sweet scent before using his nose and cheek to nudge the blouse over her shoulder and down her arm. The process was repeated on the other side, and he reveled in the shiver of sensation that sent chill-bumps over her skin at the hot caress of his breath.

  Satisfied with her blouse for the moment, he moved to the button of her jeans. It took some finessing, and a great deal of rubbing his cheek over her silky belly, but he finally worked the diabolical little brass rivet loose. It was simple then to catch the tab of the zipper between his teeth and work it down.

  He caught a glimpse of more purple lace. A whiff of magnolias and musk. He moaned, famished for her.

  She rose, towering above him like an Amazon warrior. His goddess. He set his teeth into the waistband of her jeans and worked them down over her hips, over the roundness of her thighs, until they fell without resistance to pool at her feet. He'd closed his eyes halfway through the process, not willing to trust himself with the sight of her beautiful, lace-covered pussy hovering before his eyes.

  Of course, she wouldn't allow that.

  "Open your eyes, sugar," she instructed him in a gentle, inexorable voice. "Look at your Mistress." She stroked her fingers through his hair again. He was beginning to crave the gesture, to equate it with his Mistress's affection. "See how wet I am," she continued relentlessly as he resisted, refusing to open his eyes. He wanted the soft lash of her words. "See how the sight of your beautiful body affects me. See how much I want you."

  Finally he could resist no longer. His eyes opened, and he nearly came at the sight that met his avid gaze. She was as wet as she'd claimed. Her honey had stained the lace of her panties almost black, a soaking testament that he affected her as much as she did him.

  "Mistress," he begged unashamedly, "please let me taste you."

  She gave a low hum of enjoyment and shook her head. "Not yet, sugar. You're not done undressing me." She turned gracefully and presented the long, elegant sweep of her back. Gregori couldn't resist dragging his tongue up the line of her spine before setting to work with teeth and tongue on her bra clasp. He was growling in frustration by the tim
e he worked all three of the diabolical little hooks loose, but it was worth the wait when Megan faced him once again, holding the loosened purple lace over her breasts while the straps trailed down her arms.

  "Would you like more wine?" She was teasing him, denying him, deliberately taunting him, and he loved it.

  "I'd like the wine of your sweet pussy," he muttered. If she was taunting him, he was provoking her, and he knew they'd both enjoy the results.

  "All I'm offering now is the delightful beverage you served me," she told him. "Eyes on mine," she suddenly commanded, and he instantly locked his gaze on hers. The faint rustle that followed, along with the slight shimmy of her head, told him she'd dropped the bra and the panties, too. His eyes narrowed with the struggle to keep them on hers when all he wanted in that second was to drink her in with his eyes.

  "Stay put," she suddenly murmured, pointing one slender finger at him. Without any thought at all he growled and snapped, nipping the tip of her finger gently, then sucking the abused digit into his mouth.

  "So naughty," she chuckled, and he knew he was in for it. Yes, he thought, punish me. I'm yours; discipline me to please you. "Now don't move," she reiterated, before leaving him alone, naked on his knees.

  *

  Megan was shaking with reaction as she walked from the room, but she was careful not to let Gregori see it. It would shoot her image of powerful and in-control Domme all to hell if he could tell she was practically falling off her three-inch heels with desire for him.

  Otherwise gloriously naked, she decided to keep the heels in question on. They were deep crimson, and screamed fuck me. She liked the message they were sending.

  Once she was out of sight of the living room doorway, Megan put on some speed. She hurried first to her bedroom, where she retrieved her goody bag from Mystic and zipped into the master bath. She quickly stripped her new purchases from their protective wrappers. Nipple clamps the same titanium gray of Gregori's eyes were swiped with alcohol swabs, just in case. A leather cock-and-ball strap with snaps set to vary the tightness was lovingly stroked with one finger. The big surprise she set on the counter and gazed at for a long moment before grabbing a baby wipe and thoroughly cleaning it.

  Pausing to grab a thick, voluminous bath sheet, she gathered up her purchases, including a bottle of lube she'd dosed with peppermint essential oil, and moved swiftly back through the bedroom. She paused to look at the heavy velvet box on her nightstand. Gregori's collar. She added it to her bundle with a small, private smile. Tonight, she thought. Definitely tonight.

  Gregori was right where she'd left him, though he'd taken the initiative to present himself properly. He was a sight to behold, kneeling proudly, legs spread wide to offer a mouthwatering view of his impressive cock and the heavy swing of his balls. The rigid muscles of his abdomen rippled with tension under her regard, and the way he'd clasped his hands behind his back emphasized the width and strength of his chest.

  She slowed her movements and added a deliberate sway as she moved to the couch. The bath sheet was long enough to drape the seat of the couch and still spread nearly a foot out onto the floor. That was good, because she planned on getting messy.

  Once she'd protected the couch and surrounding area, Megan laid out her toys. Gregori was too well trained to look directly at the display, but she knew he'd stolen a glimpse when his shoulders tightened.

  Toys arranged to her satisfaction, she set about arranging her submissive, too. "Lean back," she instructed, "balance on your hands, and make a bridge for me." He immediately obeyed, and the view was breathtaking. His cock strained up, painting his abdomen with a softly gleaming trail of pre-cum. Delicious.

  Bracing her hands on his straining shoulders, Megan leaned in and licked a path down his neck, testing the corded muscles with her teeth before dropping to her knees between his thighs. Lips pursed, she blew a hot breath over each of his nipples, smiling when they drew up tight in reaction. She gently stroked him with her tongue, savoring the salty, pebbled flesh before finally catching each point between her teeth and pulling.

  Gregori moaned, his mighty muscles flexed, but he didn't break his position.

  "Oh, sugar, you please me," Megan murmured against his skin. Before he had time to process what she was doing, she'd scooped up the nipple clamps, and had tugged one copper nipple taut, closing the clamp over it with erotic efficiency.

  Megan had a theory about clamping the various tender places on a submissive's body. She could spend her time preparing them, but that took away from the exquisite pain. Instead, Megan preferred minimal preparation. She liked to slowly clamp the tender, unsuspecting flesh and watch the flush rise to the surrounding skin as her submissive became aware of the erotic pain in slow degrees.

  She watched Gregori now, catching the flinch of his eyelids, the jerk of his cock, and the long hiss of painful pleasure that finally escaped him as his body adjusted. She gave him a moment to settle, then repeated the process on his other nipple, drawing an even more dramatic response from him and kindling an even more violent fire in herself.

  Beautiful man, she thought, watching his chest heave. Sitting back on her heels, Megan lifted the cock-and-ball strap and trailed the supple leather down the center of his body. He jerked under the caress, and she gave a little laugh.

  "I guess it's a good thing I came prepared, isn't it, Sug?" She wrapped the strap snugly around his balls, laughing again in pure pleasure when they drew up tight at her touch, then wrapped the rest of the length around the base of his cock. "Without this little bit of help, you wouldn't last, would you?"

  "I would try, Mistress," he replied, his voice more a groan than actual words.

  Megan shifted back and lifted the final apparatus from the couch to show him. His eyes flared, but that was the only reaction he gave as she ran one finger down the realistic looking cock attached to a very special strap-on harness.

  "I'm going to fuck you, Gregori," she whispered. His eyes blazed. "I'm going to own every inch of that beautiful body." She slid the tip of her finger over the tip of Gregori's erection, smearing a drop of pre-cum over the head before lifting it to her lips to lick off. He groaned, a low, guttural cry. "And you. Will. Not. Come," she added with finality.

  *

  He was going to die. His heart was going to explode. His brain was going to liquefy and shoot out his dick. He would not survive her ownership, he knew that now.

  His chest was burning, his nipples on fire from the bite of the clamps. His dick was in agony, his balls so full and hard they felt as if they were trying to crawl up inside his body. He was primed and ready and, at some visceral level, terrified. He'd been whipped, flogged and even caned. He was a sensation player, always had considered himself more than a bit of a pain whore. But somehow, though he'd been penetrated and plugged, he'd never been fucked anally. And clearly Megan had taken him at his word on the night she'd plugged him, because the strap-on she was currently buckling around her lush hips was not beginner-sized. It was fucking huge, at least to his mind.

  Once she was buckled up and ready to go, Megan moved to stand in front of him again. The giant dildo bounced gently in front of him, a threat and a promise all rolled into one. A slight smile creased his lips. She'd managed to find an extra large strap-on in her signature baby blue. Only his Megan…

  She must have caught a hint of the apprehension in his eyes, because Megan cupped his face tenderly before speaking.

  "Are you mine, Gregori?"

  "Completely." He didn't even have to think about it.

  "Then you must trust me." There was no compromise in her voice, or in her eyes. Gregori felt his smile grow full.

  "Of course I trust you," he agreed. "But where would the fun be if you couldn't scare me a little?"

  Megan's laughter rang out, delighting him. It all twisted together inside of him; the pinch and burn of the clamps, the howling in his balls, the joy expanding in his chest like a star gone supernova. She cupped his chin as her laughter softened
.

  "Gregori," she said, stroking her thumb over his mouth. "I want you to suck my dick." His breath caught, and his eyes immediately dropped to the dick in question.

  "Lick it," she told him, and he did. She'd lubed it lightly, and a tingle of peppermint teased his tongue, almost disguising the flavor of the gel-like rubber. He traced the simulated vein that wound up the dense underside of the cock, played with the closed slit, then swooped down to mouth the base. His nose brushed against her silky folds, parted and firmly compressed by the base of the dildo. He let his tongue sneak out to tease her labia, and fierce satisfaction filled him when the long muscles in her thighs grew tight.

  She wrapped her fist in his hair and tugged his head up roughly. "Suck it, sugar." She guided his mouth to hover over the tip, then paused to smack lightly against his cheek with the phallus. "Make me wet for you." She rubbed the tip against the seam of his lips, and as if in a trance, he took her in. "Make me so wet I'll just slide right inside that gorgeous ass."

  There was an odd comfort in the motion; hands behind his back, strong suction on the rigid gel shaft almost soothing. Her hands in his hair, guiding him in an ever-increasing rhythm, added to the madness overtaking him.

  "I'm gonna take you now, sugar," she told him, tugging his head back until he was gazing helplessly into her eyes. "Bend over the seat of the couch. Stretch your arms up and hold onto the back." Moving like one hypnotized he obeyed, spreading himself as a willing sacrifice to her lust and his own love.

  Her hands slid over his shoulders, slick with lube and cool with peppermint oil, and he moaned and pushed back into the contact. Her fingers were surprisingly strong, though he knew he shouldn't be surprised. She was a nurse, strong and competent; efficient and commanding.

  She shaped his muscles firmly, dragging her fingers down the groove of his spine, sending tingles along his nerve endings with each movement. He forced himself to relax when she used her thumbs to part his cheeks, slicking slippery fingers along the sensitive crease.