Surrender to Temptation

by Lauren Jameson

  “We went for coffee, Zach. Coffee. And I managed to get some closure. So what’s the problem?” I found that I was angry, truly angry now. Somehow, I had thought that these games that Zach and I were playing would be based upon honesty, and this seemed like a ruse.

  I was humbled by his next words. “You didn’t consider how it would make me feel, seeing you with another man.” I opened my mouth to retort, then closed it quietly when I realized that I had nothing to say.

  By telling me this, by punishing me for this, he was opening a part of himself up. He had just told me that I had the power to hurt him. And that seeing me with another man, someone I used to date, had hurt him.

  It made me want to please him all the more.

  Still . . . “Haven’t you already punished me for this?” I thought of the pain wrought by the supple leather of his belt, and something red and slick rolled over in my gut.

  Zach shook his head slowly, and I caught the glint in his eye that told me that he was thoroughly enjoying this.

  “A quick fuck in an elevator is not proper punishment for how you made me feel, Devon.” Gesturing across the room with his right arm, he motioned for me to look. Turning, I saw a large wooden post positioned by the glass wall, so that if someone leaned against it, they could peer out at the raging waves of the sea at the same time.

  Coiled on the floor at the base of the post was the whip that I had held in my hand before. I felt my heart skip a beat, then resume its pounding, double time.

  I knew, without a doubt, that the whip was not about to be used on me.

  “You said that you would whip me, if I still wanted you to.” The expression in Zach’s eyes was flat as he looked at me. The need for him to be punished ran deeper than I had ever imagined.

  I tried to hide it, because he wouldn’t have appreciated it at all, but sympathy washed over me in a wave. What was it that clawed at his soul? What made him crave such punishment? “Zach.” Before, his request to be whipped had seemed to be a knee-jerk reaction, something to help scrub away the residue of his nightmare. Now, I could see how deep he truly craved it. I could also see that it wasn’t fully about him.

  He knew that I was uncomfortable with this. Therefore this was the punishment for my flagrant disregard of his feelings. I wished I could explain to him that I hadn’t been intentionally careless with what he felt.

  Rather, I hadn’t had any clue that I was capable of making him feel anything at all.

  Humbled, my head reeling, I crossed the room and picked up the whip. My fingers were cold, numb, and they felt clumsy as I wrapped them around the thick length of the handle.

  I couldn’t speak. But I could give this to him. Starting to tremble with the knowledge of what I was about to do, I looked up at the beautiful, complex man before me and nodded once, sharply.

  “Good girl.” He wasn’t as joyous as he might have been, having won this battle. As he crossed the room to the post, and I saw the stiffness in the lines of his frame, I began to see how deep the connection between his need for pleasure and pain and his nightmares ran.

  “Do you remember how to do this?” He twisted, looked back at me before positioning himself at the post. I let my mind run back to the sensation of his hand over mine, swinging through the air, the tail of the whip cracking as it landed on the floor.

  I shuddered, and not with pleasure, before forcing myself to nod.

  “I remember.” What I was about to do, I did entirely for Zach.

  I watched numbly as he positioned himself against the tall wooden post. Lifting his arms above his head, he pressed a cheek against the smooth, pale width and widened the stance of his legs.

  “You are going to give me five blows.” His voice told me that there would be no arguing. “And I will know if you are holding back.”

  I watched as he closed his eyes. He was completely on display as he leaned against the post, the twilight shadows casting interesting art on the glory of his body. I found myself pondering the dichotomy of a being so perfect on the outside, and so twisted and scarred within.

  “Devon!” It sounded as though he spoke through gritted teeth. I cringed, then lifted the hand holding the whip.

  I would do this quickly, and get it over with.

  Every muscle in my body was tense. But despite myself, I could sense his need for what I was about to do to him. With my hand lifted in the air, I froze, not sure if I would be able to follow through.

  Then I looked at the man standing in front of me. I had asked him to open himself up. Though this was not at all what I had imagined, I had gotten my wish.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent the whip flying.

  I knew before it landed that I had missed, the tip hitting the floor inches to the right of Zach’s foot.

  He said nothing, no chastisement, no further encouragement. I watched his reflection in the glass. He waited, his eyes closed, his expression blank.

  Pure sensation crashed over me as I watched him standing there. Feelings that I hadn’t wanted clenched around my heart with needy fingers and squeezed tightly.

  In that moment I would have done anything for him. And so I lifted the whip again, and this time brought it home.

  • • •

  The moment the fifth lash had been administered, I collapsed on the floor, my knees no longer able to support me. Though my throat felt besieged with emotions, my eyes remained dry as I watched the man in front of me unfurl from his position at the post, his back striped liberally with red, and one small cut of crimson where the lash had dug too deep.

  “I’m sorry.” My heart pounded, the blood that rushed through my ears sounding like the hooves of a horse in full gallop. “I am so sorry. Please. Please forgive me.” I began to tremble, icy cold spreading over my skin.

  Zach knelt on the floor next to me, and began to rain tender kisses over my face, my shoulders, my neck.

  “You darling girl, don’t be sorry.” He seemed lighter than he had since I had met him, as if the blows of the whips had chased away some of the demons that haunted him. “You have helped me so much. You’ve done so well. It is time for your reward.”

  I sniffled, determined not to cry. I watched with wide eyes as he stood and then helped me to my feet.

  Heat began to rain down over the chill that permeated my body when he danced his eyes over me, looking his fill at my naked flesh. His cock rose as he stared intensely at the damp heat between my legs, which was still partially hidden by the thin white cotton of my panties.

  “Take those off.” He was again in full control. I felt as if a piece of myself that I used to know had been bulldozed to the ground, and I didn’t have the strength to argue or to question.

  Hooking my fingers in the elastic at my hips, I pulled the cotton down until it dropped to the floor. Unabashed, Zach drank in the view of my naked pussy with greedy eyes.

  “Sit on the end of the bed.” As I moved to obey, he brought a large bag over to me. Reaching inside, he removed two objects, one of which I recognized, one that I didn’t.

  He handed me the one that was unfamiliar. It was composed of four connected beads that were graduated in size with a ring at one end. I couldn’t imagine what it was for.

  “You liked watching the two men fuck at the club, didn’t you?” As he spoke, he unscrewed the lid from the object that I did recognize—a tube of lubricant.

  Heat spread over my skin as he drizzled a stream of thick, clear gel over the string of beads that I held in my hands.

  “You know I did.” What had turned me on even more was that the entirely masculine Zach had been just as into the scene as I was.

  “Anal play feels good for both men and women.” Closing the tube of lubricant, Zach reached over and rubbed it into my fingers. My entire body tightened with excitement.

  “You’ve given me pain tonight, and now I want to share in the
pleasure.” He turned away from me, my eyes level with his trim waist, and I could feel my clitoris pulsing with the heat of extreme arousal.

  This was not something I could ever have imagined, but I was so, so into it.

  “What . . . what do I do?” I felt again that he was allowing me to be empowered, even though he was the one telling me what to do.

  I had never before in my life felt so in control, and I relished the sensation.

  “Rub some of the lubricant over me.” I did as he said, placing my slick hands on his flesh, massaging the liquid in.

  Fully aware of the ultimate goal, I held my breath and trailed one finger up to the entrance of his ass. When I pressed against the pucker of his anus, the tip of my finger breached his flesh, pulling tightly at me.

  He hissed in a breath, then moaned long and slow.

  “Now take the beads.” I removed my finger from his heat, shuddering with need. “Hold them by the ring, then press the smallest bead right where your finger just was.”

  I did as I was told, my every nerve on fire. I placed the smallest bead against his anus, then pushed, slowly.

  Zach let out a strangled moan and pushed back against me. The first bead slid inside his flesh.

  Perspiration dotted my brow, and yet I felt myself grow wetter between my thighs.

  “Now the next one.” It was harder to get the bigger bead in, for his flesh fought the intrusion. Finally all four beads were buried tightly inside his body, the ring snugged against the hard planes of his ass.

  Zach turned then, and I saw that his cock was engorged to what had to be the point of pain. Fisting his hands in my hair, he brought me just close enough to reach out and flick my tongue over the semen that had pooled at the tip of his shaft.

  “One day soon I’m going to fuck your ass with my cock.” I whimpered, then closed my mouth over the tip of his cock. He allowed me just a taste before positioning me back on the bed and flipping me so that I lay on my stomach.

  One finger stroked down the trail of my spine, skirting my ass and delving into the slickness of my pussy. Using my own wetness to ease his path, he pressed his finger against my anus and pressed until he breached the firm ring of muscle.

  I cried out, pressing my face into the cool, crisp covers of the bed. With just the tip of his finger he fucked forward and back, just teasing me with a sample of what he must have been feeling at that very moment.

  “You’ve been so very patient, Devon.” Pulling his finger from me, I felt him reach for the bag that had held the anal beads and the lubricant. What he removed this time sounded metallic, and I lifted my head, trying to see.

  “Be patient just a little bit more, little minx.” Pulling at my hips until my pelvis and legs hung off the bed, he placed his hands between my thighs and shoved them far apart.

  “I want your legs as wide open as they can get.” I felt him kneel behind me on the carpet. “I’m going to be deeper inside of you than anyone has ever been.” He placed one hand on my inner thigh. With the other he shoved a finger right into my waiting cunt, moving back and forth several times in quick succession.

  My hips bucked against him, my movements hindered by the bar.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you are sore. Tomorrow, every time that you move, you’ll think of my cock, deep inside of your cunt.”

  “Zach.” I shifted restlessly. I wanted—no, needed—his touch.

  “I’m not done yet.” Only then did he let me see what he had pulled from the bag. It looked like nothing so much as a thin silver clothespin. Its twin joined it, and I eyed them warily, fairly certain that I wouldn’t like what was about to happen.

  “That’s going to hurt.” My arms were still free, and I covered my breasts with my hands. An arch look from Zach had me dropping them again, albeit reluctantly.

  “I promised that I wouldn’t take you further than you could go.” Before I could say another word, he began to roll one of my already-erect nipples in his hand, pulling and pinching until it was a hard point. I arched into his hand involuntarily, and with experienced fingers he had the nipple clamp in place on the tip of my breast.

  “Ouch!” I shook, hoping that it would fall off. He took advantage of my distraction to clamp my second breast. I inhaled sharply as a painful sensation burned its way over both globes of my heavy breasts, spreading to my collarbone, my rib cage, and making it hard to breathe.

  “Once more.” I was lifted yet again and twisted, my front again pressed into the bed, my ass presented fully. The pain from the clamps on my nipples eased a bit when I rested them on my bed, but I could feel blood rushing to the spot where the metal pinched into my skin, and found that the tips were becoming quite numb. It was an incredibly strange mix of sensations.

  “Now.” Zach pulled one final object from his magic bag of tricks. He held it out so that I could see, and when my eyes took in the pale wood of what was unmistakably a paddle, one side polished to a shine, the other covered with some sort of fur, I shook my head vehemently.

  “No way.” I just wanted him to fuck me already—was that really too much to ask? I’d whipped him, I had clamps on my nipples, and he had told me that I wasn’t permitted to close my legs. I didn’t think I could handle anything else.

  Zach stilled, and his face when he looked down at me was deadly serious.

  “Do you truly mean ‘no,’ Devon?” His eyes searched my face for the truth. “Are you safe-wording on me?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. If I used my safe word, then this—this entire strange, sensory, emotional journey—was completely over.

  No. I wasn’t going to end things now.

  Inhaling deeply as I thought of that paddle smacking against the bare skin of my ass, I buried my face in the covers, waiting for him to do as he would.

  “We’ll only do ten blows tonight. You’ve been through a lot.” I choked on my own saliva at his pronouncement. Only ten blows?

  Shit.

  “Count for me, Devon.” This was the only warning I had, and then the hard side of the wooden paddle was smacking against the flesh of my right ass cheek. I cried out as fire spread across my skin.

  “One.” I sucked in air as I waited for the second blow. My ass burned against the cool air.

  “Two!” This was hit against the other side of my butt. It burned just as much.

  Three, four. Nine, ten. I screamed out the last number, the paddle on my already-burning flesh just too much for me to handle. Tears leaked out the sides of my eyes as I clutched my fingers into the sheets, gasping as I tried to catch my breath.

  Behind me I could hear that Zach’s breath was labored, as well. I knew that if I turned around, I would find him as hard as he had ever been, ready to plunge himself into my waiting heat.

  First, something soft pressed against the heated skin of my rear. I winced and shied away from the touch until I realized that he was rubbing the fur side of the paddle over my abraded skin.

  Though strange at first, I finally arched into the sensation, which was cool and refreshing and oh so soft.

  Then the paddle went away. I heard it hit the ground and braced myself, knowing what was coming.

  It was still a shock when Zach grabbed my waist, pressed my scorched behind to his pelvis, and seated himself inside my pussy in one rough thrust. I couldn’t hold back any longer and screamed as I felt myself filled to the edge of discomfort.

  He wasn’t gentle, and he was big. He held me open with the hard muscles of his thighs. I couldn’t close my legs against the onslaught of sensation, and as such had to take his entire length and girth into my body, which fought against the intrusion.

  “Aah!” He was so incredibly big, and I had nowhere to move to alleviate the sensation. As he began to thrust, his strokes deep and fast and rough, the pain tore an intense excitement from my very core, and I felt myself beginning to shudd
er around him.

  “Not yet.” Sliding his hands between my torso and the bed as I began to tense in anticipation of climax, Zach’s fingers found the tips of my breasts and, in one quick movement, tugged the clamps off.

  “Fuck!” Blood rushed back into the numb tips, making them so incredibly sensitive that the sheets dragging back and forth over them sent me over the edge. I screamed long and loud as my climax shattered my world, my body racked with the pleasure that Zach had introduced me to.

  “No more.” He drew his erection from my drenched heat and rolled me onto my back. Stepping in between my splayed legs, he pressed back inside of my pussy and at the same time, bent and sucked a still-burning nipple into his warm, wet mouth.

  I felt myself beginning to climb again. As he suckled my breast, he began to roll my clit between sure fingers.

  The pleasure slammed back through me, and it rolled on and on. Dimly, as if from a distance, I heard Zach shout at me to remove his beads.

  As if pushing through a fog of pleasure, I reached behind him and fumbled for the ring. Tugging as hard as I could while my own pleasure continued to crash over me, I felt the first bead give way, then the second, then the final two at once.

  He pulled his cock out of my heat as I ripped the beads from his body. He shouted, his voice hoarse, and then I felt semen splatter wetly across my skin, scalding the tender flesh of my stomach.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to savor every nuance of sensation. When I opened them again briefly, I saw Zach standing over me. Those incredible eyes of his regarded me with satisfaction, not a little bit of pride, and something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  I smiled up at him sleepily, then closed my eyes again, wanting to hold on to the bliss that was drifting throughout me.

  For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

  • • •

  The first rays of morning light were washing over the bed when we finally settled down to sleep. I basked in the lemon yellow sunshine as I lay beside Zach on the bed.

  I was wearing one of his T-shirts. He was wearing nothing. The covers had disappeared off of the bed and onto the floor sometime in the night, and so I snuggled into his side for warmth in the chilled early air.