Shades of Pleasure: Five Stories of Domination and Submission

by Tawny Taylor

  “And we’re still friends. I love you like a sister.” Britt gripped Mary’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I just don’t know how to talk about this stuff. It’s all so strange and new to me. I honestly don’t know how I feel about any of it yet.”

  “Then why did you call me?”

  “I wanted to do some research on the Internet, but I can’t find anything. I was hoping you could help me.”

  That seemed to boost Mary’s suddenly glum mood. “Okay. What are you looking for?”

  “Stuff on the bondage lifestyle. I found lots of sites that sell bondage equipment, but nothing else.”

  “You’re looking under the wrong key words. Scoot over.” Mary settled her chair in front of the keyboard and punched in a command. A black page with dozens of links appeared. “See? Lots of stuff. You can find anything on the ‘net if you know where to look.”

  Britt skimmed the headings. “Oh, this is great! Thanks!” She clicked on a link for slave training, and immediately felt a flush spread over her face.

  “What is it?”

  “This…this sounds like Andre. He kept talking about my thoughts and feelings. I didn’t know what he was doing.”

  Mary’s eyebrows lowered as she read the glaring white print on the black page. “Master and slave are a little different from sub and dom, although the difference between them is subtle. A slave eventually grants her choices to her Master where a submissive doesn’t. It sounds like Andre has big plans for you.”

  “Yeah, it does.” She squirmed as she read the slave rules, all one hundred and twenty-eight of them. In one way, the idea of serving someone, of turning over her will and freedom to a Master was exciting. In another it was absolutely terrifying. “Do you think he’ll expect me to follow all of these?”

  “It says you can choose how to interpret these rules for yourself.”

  “It also says that eventually I’d have to make a choice to let him do all the decision-making for me. I can’t imagine doing that.”

  “It’s new. You have to go slow. He’s not asking you to do them now, is he?”

  “No. We just played around with a swing in his basement. It was an amazing experience.”

  Mary grinned. “I bet it was. But what do you think about all of this?”

  “I’m not sure. But at least now I’m not going into it blindly. I wonder if that’s what he meant.” Britt skimmed further down the list of rules. “These rules include undressing in public, and licking his ass clean? Oh, God! Do I have to get my labia pierced?” She shuddered at the imagined pain.

  “Sounds like you need to talk to Andre. Find out what he’s thinking. Maybe he doesn’t want to take it this far.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “When are you seeing him again?”

  “Tonight. And he said to come prepared.” Britt clicked the print icon at the top of the screen. “At least I’ll have this.”

  “Sounds like a good start.” Mary stood and rested her hands on Britt’s shoulders.

  Her eyes drifting from one shocking rule to another, Britt muttered, “After reading it, though, I wonder if I’m really cut out for this. Look here. It says he will decide what my sexual orientation is. How can he do that? My undergrad psychology professor said we can’t even make that choice for ourselves. I’m not a lesbian.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll take things slow for you. I’ve got to go. Call me if you need me.”

  Britt’s gaze refused to stray from the screen. “Okay. Thanks for coming over so quickly. Really.”

  “No problem.” Mary pulled open the front door and exited, leaving Britt with a horde of doubts and fears running through her mind. And a heaviness in her pussy.

  She couldn’t deny it. For some reason, although the idea of being Andre’s slave was scary, it also made her hot and bothered—in a good sense.

  What would tonight bring?

  * * * * *

  That night, after a full day’s work, she sat in her living room waiting for Andre to arrive, barely able to contain her jitters. She squirmed. She paced. She chewed her lip. She played with her purse strap.

  How would she ever get through the evening? She was a walking bundle of nerves. At one point, she even picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone number, intending to cancel. But before it rang, she hung up.

  This was silly! Not once had he ever made an unreasonable demand—unless she counted his unusual request to chitchat while in the middle of heavy petting. He’d never told her she couldn’t look him in the eye, or had to kneel on the floor with her head down, or had to have sex with another woman.

  That website was for people who lived the extreme. Outside of the fact that Andre had a basement full of bondage gear, he didn’t appear to be one of those kind.

  Yes, everything would be fine. He was a sexy, kind man. They would have a great time together.

  Her doorbell made her jump nearly out of her skin, highlighting the fact that her feeble attempts at calming her fears hadn’t helped much. Determined to find out exactly what Andre’s intentions were, she scooped up her purse and walked to the door.

  When she opened it, she found Andre standing on the porch, a huge bouquet of red roses in his hand.

  “Hi, beautiful.” His gaze wandered over her face, and his wide smile faded as he handed her the flowers. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She took the bouquet and turned toward the kitchen to put it in water. “The flowers are beautiful. Thanks.”

  Andre followed her. “You look gorgeous.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer then placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

  She felt herself flinching slightly.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated, this time more sternly. He took her hands in his and coaxed her to face him. “Why won’t you look me in the eye? What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I’m just nervous.” She lifted her eyes, meeting his penetrating gaze.

  “Why?”

  “I read some things on the ‘net.”

  “I see.” He nodded. “Let’s go talk.” He took her hand and they walked outside, down the sidewalk and past his car.

  “Where are we going?”

  “On my way over I passed a nice park. It’s a beautiful day.”

  “Okay.” She strolled beside him, enjoying the feel of his warm hand wrapped around hers.

  “I see you took my request to heart. I’m very pleased.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy. Although I have to admit, reading that stuff has made me a little unsure about things,” she confessed, knowing she had to be honest. There was no way she’d be able to pretend to enjoy some of those things on that list. Heck, some of them sounded downright excruciating and humiliating. She was an independent, intelligent woman. Allowing another human being to treat her—or any woman for that matter—like trash went against everything she believed in. This was one instance where complete honesty was vital. He had to understand where she was coming from.

  “But it has made you aware of what being submissive can mean. And it’s opened you up. You’re talking about things now instead of hiding.”

  “Sure, out of shock and fear.”

  He sighed. “If you feel that strongly about this, then maybe it isn’t for you. That’s okay. I was just hoping we’d be able to talk about it. No rules are set in stone. I…haven’t done anything wrong, have I?”

  She glanced at him, catching his forlorn expression. He looked genuinely disappointed, and that left her feeling worse. “No, you haven’t. I’m just being goofy. Maybe a little defensive. I’m sorry. I do want to talk about it.”

  They rounded the corner and followed the path into the park. She pulled her snug skirt down over her bottom and sat on a swing, heating slightly at the memory of the last swing she’d sat on. He stood in front of her, his legs straddling her knees. His hands gripped the chains suspending the swing and his gaze fixed to hers. “Tell me. Please. What did you read?”

&nb
sp; “I found this site about Masters and slaves. It had over one hundred rules. All sorts of things about piercing body parts, stripping naked in public, kneeling nude with eyes lowered, the Master choosing the slave’s sexual orientation. Enemas and whipping and humiliation. Some of the milder stuff I could handle—as a bedroom game, maybe. I’m too independent, too stubborn, to live like a slave all the time. And I know for a fact I couldn’t handle torture. Pain does nothing for me sexually. Some of those punishments were—do I need to explain further?”

  “No. I understand. Really.”

  She hesitated and tried to read his expression. It hadn’t changed. Was still encouraging and gentle and kind. Her heart felt heavy even though she was relieved. “Are you disappointed?”

  “No way! I’m glad you told me. I’m glad you’ve opened up to me. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  She felt a giggle wiggling up her throat. “Really?”

  “Later, if or when you decide we should, we can go over those rules and talk about each one. Until then, we’ll talk about other things. We can explore and learn about each other. I’m not just looking for a slave, Britt. I’m...looking for more. A partner. I want to settle down soon. In the next few years. Get married. Have children.”

  “You do? You are? I would never have—”

  “Yeah, you figured I was out for a good time. Miss Right-for-Now. I’ll ask you the same question. Are you disappointed?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “I’ve been feeling the itch to settle down soon, too. It’s time. My life is good. I’m not needy or desperate, so I know I’ll make the right decision for the right reasons.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It was mighty soon to be talking about long term relationships, marriage. In the past, if a guy mentioned marriage on the second date, she’d bolt. Rushing into a serious relationship was plain stupid.

  But with Andre, in this situation, it felt right. She needed to know where he was headed, what he expected. Knowing he wanted more than a woman to chain to the wall eased her fears considerably. Knowing he understood her reservations, and supported her decisions, made her feel even better…cherished.

  If Andre Cruz-Romero was everything he seemed to be, she could see herself falling fast and hard for him. Like a block of cement from a third-floor window. Thunk.

  Then the image of the basement popped into her head. “I wonder, what will you tell your future kids about the toys in the basement?”

  He grinned, stepped around her and gave her back a push, sending her swinging into the air. “That’s Mommy and Daddy’s playroom. My kids will be so spoiled they won’t care what’s down there.”

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the fresh, cool air blowing in her face as she ascended and the funny feeling in her belly as she descended. “That’s where you’re wrong. Kids are like all humanity. They want what they can’t have.”

  “Hmm. You probably have a point. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Keep the door locked?”

  “Sounds like the perfect solution, at least until they’re teenagers and learn how to pick a lock.” He plopped into the swing next to hers and watched as she skidded her swing to a stop, sending a cloud of dust up from the ground. “Are you ready for some dinner? It’s a work night. I don’t want to keep you out too late.”

  She stood and took his hand in hers, giving it a playful squeeze. Her shoulder brushed against his arm and she felt her face warming with a blush. “Yes, I’m starving. Let’s go eat.” As they walked back to her place, she added—surprising herself, “Then, maybe we can go back to your place for a little while? I’m in the mood for a visit to the playroom. I’ve rediscovered a fondness for swings.”

  Chapter Six

  After eating more than her share of jambalaya at an upscale seafood restaurant nearby, Britt eased into the passenger seat of Andre’s racy red Mustang and smiled. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He started the car and she watched him, intent to study his features as he drove.

  She could look at his face forever, the hollows under his high cheekbones. The curve of his lips. The long eyelashes that fringed his eyes.

  Sure, she’d had her moments of doubt about whether to purse this thing with him. But deep down, she’d known he would be the sweet, gentle, sexy man she’d thought all along. Attentive, patient to a fault…and a genuine pro at seduction and flirting. By the end of dinner, Britt was not only laughing at his wit, but squirming, for an altogether different reason than she had been earlier.

  And the silence that fell over them as he drove the short distance to his house did nothing to ease the burning between her legs, yet she didn’t feel compelled to fill it with incessant, meaningless small talk to distract herself. Instead, she watched familiar neighborhoods pass by and imagined what game they might play that evening. Would he tie her up? Would he spank her? Would they make love?

  Her instincts told her they would, and she was glad she’d made special preparations just in case. Every inch of her body was shaved smooth, including down there. Being completely shaved made her feel sexy. So did the lace thong and bra she wore under her skirt and top. She hoped Andre would appreciate the special preparations she’d made.

  She knew it wouldn’t be long before she found out. As they turned down his street, he reached across and slid his right hand up her thigh. Her pussy started throbbing instantly, and she shifted her posture slightly, parting her knees and tipping her hips up, giving him access to the more delicate regions under her clothing.

  Unfortunately his straying hand couldn’t stay where it was long enough. There were real drawbacks to manual transmissions.

  She groaned when, just before his fingertips dipped under the hem of her skirt, he had to shift the car into second gear.

  “What’s wrong?” He slid her a playful smile.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said on a sigh.

  “Put your hand on my stick.”

  “Your what?” She reached for his lap, figuring there was only one stick he had to be thinking of.

  “That’s not the one I had in mind, but I like the way you think.” He winked then turned his attention back to driving as she rubbed the rigid swelling at the front of his khaki pants.

  “Well, if you didn’t mean this one, what stick were you talking about?”

  “Here.” He patted the gearshift, and she lifted her hand, raising it to her face to hide her heating cheeks.

  “Oh! I can’t believe I thought—sheesh! My mind’s in the gutter.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  “No, what guy would?” Encouraged by his smile, she dropped her hand to his lap again and began caressing his cock through his clothes, for which she received a gratifying groan of pleasure.

  “You, my dear, are wicked.” He sighed. “I like wicked.”

  She playfully patted the bump in his lap. “I can tell. I can’t wait to get my hands on this.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t wait either.”

  “And my mouth, and tongue.” Feeling naughty, she licked her lips and continued stroking.

  “Just wait until I get you inside, you little tease.”

  “Who’s teasing?”

  He pulled the car into his driveway and cut the engine then got out and opened her door for her before leading her up to the porch. “We’ll find out in a moment who’s teasing, won’t we?”

  “Now it’s my turn to say I can’t wait.” She intentionally lowered her voice, erasing the playful tone. “But before we go in, I want to tell you something.”

  He turned the key in the front door’s lock then faced her. “What is it?”

  “I want to tell you again how much I’ve enjoyed today. The walk in the park, the dinner. But most importantly, the time you took to talk about my feelings. I don’t think many men have the patience to do that. I…half expected you to say ‘fine’ and leave.”

  He shook his head, furrowed his eyeb
rows and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m more than a Dom. I’m a man first.”

  “I know.”

  “I was serious when I said I’m looking to settle down. It’s too early to talk about this, I know. But I want to be honest with you. I won’t pursue a relationship that I believe is bound to fail eventually.” He paused, licked his lips and tipped his head a little closer. “And I won’t ruin something that has the potential to be wonderful by pushing too hard.”

  “You think this could be wonderful?” she managed to squeak out. It wasn’t easy speaking with her breath jammed up somewhere below her breastbone.

  “Don’t you?” He pressed his mouth against hers, and she nearly crumbled to the ground.

  Her knees went limp, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on as he slowly, deliciously explored her mouth with his tongue. His kiss was as patient and seductive as he was. Warm tingles washed down her neck and pooled between her legs, and she pressed her pelvis forward and ground her pussy into his leg. A soft moan sounded in her head.

  He broke the kiss.

  Dizzy, and having forgotten where she was, she opened her eyes.

  “We better take this inside before it goes any further,” he half-said, half-growled.

  Unable to speak or think…or do much of anything requiring the coordination of multiple neuron pathways, she merely nodded.

  He smiled, took her hand, and led her inside. “Do you need something to drink?”

  Drink? Oh, yes! A big glass of wine would go a long way toward getting rid of the last nervous jitters, but probably not a good idea. She coughed into a cupped hand to clear her clogged throat. “Some water would be perfect.”

  “Coming up.” He patted the couch as he passed it. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  She glanced at the soft chenille fabric on the couch and carefully considered the many meanings of the words make yourself comfortable. So many possibilities. One could take them literally, change into sweats and recline on it like a couch potato. Or…one could take them another way…