by Lucia Jordan
“You… you said you never switched roles,” she said breathlessly.
“And that remains the image I want to portray to the world,” he said.
“So… you switch? In this room, you are submissive?”
“Yes… miss,” he said, drawing out the last world to highlight the implications for her. Lydia paused, considering the role. No doubt those drawers and chests contained the equipment necessary for subduing Jack Riding, but she had never used them on another person, and she doubted her efficiency to complete her role.
“Who… who knows about this room?” she said, walking away from Jack and towards the soft bed.
“Only you, and one other woman, from a few years ago,” Jack put his hands behind his back and stood a little straighter. “Why?”
“Because I want to be ale to do this right,” she said, picking up a throw and fondling it idly. “For both of us.”
“Then, you would need some time to consider it?”
“Yes… if I may?”
“Here, miss, you are in charge, so if you decree yourself to need a few days to consider, you are at liberty to give yourself those days,” he answered, smiling.
“Then, in that case, I shall give you my decision by the end of the week,” she said, getting back to her bare feet and heading for the attic staircase. She paused, one foot on the step, and decided to try something…
“Downstairs, now,” she snapped, and Jack raced down the staircase as fast as he could move, a grin playing on his perfect lips. Lydia smirked to herself. Maybe she could do this, after all…
Chapter Two
Lydia made her decision that day, and sent Jack a text message to let him know what his options were:
The White Room tonight, or never. L x
She debated over the ‘x’ for a while before adding it anyway. Jacks’ kisses were always rough, exploratory, and with grasping hands and pushing tongues. She had never had a peck on the cheek or a sweet kiss on the lips from her dom, and so the addition of the kiss at the end of the message seemed slightly odd. She was still worrying about it when the reply came in:
Of course, Miss. J
Ah, so he was already calling her by her new name. ‘Miss’ seemed very fitting, for she was not a mature woman ready to be called ‘Madam’ or ‘Mistress’, and she did not yet consider Jack to be her slave. Instead, it was a genuine switch, with both of them keenly aware of how their roles had been before. Lydia was considering what to wear when her phone beeped again:
X.
She stared at the single letter, sitting demurely beneath Jack’s previous message, as though it had escaped from the line before. Was it a phone error? Why would he send ‘x’ so separately? She stared at the tiny symbol for several minutes, feeling her stomach churning at the myriad of implications. Frustrated that the ‘x’ did not give up its secrets, she put her device down and began choosing a garment for the night ahead. It was, she hoped, going to be a learning curve and amazing experience.
*
She was picked up by Jack’s chauffeur and taken straight to the house. The streets of the city were clear, and there was a threat of rain in the air. The smell of night permeated everything, and heightened her anticipation.
“Here we are, miss,” the chauffeur pulled up outside and Lydia felt a thrill at the word ‘miss’ although he had called her it many times. She thanked the driver, got out of the vehicle and made her way to the door, which opened before she could knock.
“Good evening, miss,” Brown took her coat as usual and Lydia started to wonder if the man in Jack’s employment had always called her ‘miss’. It did seem to be emphasised this evening, or was she simply paranoid?
“Is Mr. Riding in?” she asked.
“He is upstairs, miss.”
“Thank you. I’ll take breakfast at the usual time,” she said, aware that she was being rude, but her nerves were on edge and she couldn’t stop herself from turning her nose up a little. Brown was going to spend the night watching re-runs and eating pizza on his bed, while she was going to dominate a man who had previously clamped her nipples, slapped her raw and made her go shopping with him whilst wearing a vibrating butt-plug. The phrase ‘just desserts’ popped into her mind, but she dismissed it. This was not a punishment, it was a reversal of the norm, and that was frightening, worrying and exciting all at the same time.
The attic steps were down already, and she climbed them up into The White Room. There was the man himself – Jack Riding, every woman’s dream. With his dark blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and muscular frame; he was, in many ways, the ideal man. Except for his immersion into the world of BDSM, and his total commitment to this dark mistress of sex. For anyone else, he might have been undesirable, but when Lydia looked at him, she felt her chest pound, her sex clench and her mind become blank.
She fought to rearrange her features into a semi-smile and deliberately looked him up and down. She was pleased to see Jack’s fists were clenched a little, and his legs were restless as he stood in the centre of the room.
“Get undressed,” Lydia said firmly, wanting to waste no time. Jack immediately undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and began stripping his trousers off. Lydia simply stood and looked at him, feeling very tall in her highest high heels. Jack’s chest was revealed as he stripped – that small patchy of downy hair on his breast bone was a darker shade of blonde than his hair, as was the tempting trail that ran from his navel down to his crotch. Lydia longed to run her hands through it, but knew this was not the time. She picked up his discarded tie and went behind the still, standing man and tied his hands together with the silk necktie. He flinched as she pulled his arms into position, and jumped when she unexpectedly slapped him on his buttocks.
“Stand still,” she snapped, slapping him again. Jack nodded silently, and did so as Lydia warmed her hands on his backside, hitting him with more force than she had originally intended to… Jack seemed to be bearing the pain, though, and when Lydia walked around to his front, she saw he was sporting a large and ready erection. She wanted to grab it, suck it and spear herself on it, but she kept herself waiting, and went to the chest of drawers to see what lay within them.
She opened the top drawer to find row after row of clamps, clips, plugs, bullets and paddles with metal studs. She selected one and walked towards her man, the paddle in plain sight. Jack’s eyes widened as she approached, and behind the submissive exterior, Lydia could see excitement and lust.
Chapter Three
She struck the flesh of Jack’s thigh with the paddle and he gasped, turning his handsome face to stare at her in disbelief. She leaned over and struck the other thigh, delighted when Jack’s cock twitched. She was determined to draw some pre-cum from it and so went for his buttocks this time, using the flat, leather paddle to make him rise onto his toes, his hands still tightly bound behind his back.
“Stand still!” she said, pulling him down. Jack’s ankles crashed onto the carpet, making him wobble over. “You do – not – stand – on – your – toes!” she said, striking him in every word. Jack’s knees shook from the blows, and Lydia was delighted to see a single droplet of moisture on the pink top of his cock. She knelt down and delicately licked it off, tasting the heat and salt of her man.
Jack looked at her, surprise and pain in his eyes, and then even more lust as Lydia gave his cock a long, drawn-out lick. She stood, stroking his cock with the leather paddle for a moment, and then flung it to the ground. Jack’s legs were covered in bright red rectangles of pain, and the skin was broken in a few places.
Lydia was overcome with what she was doing. She had enjoyed dominating him, but the sight of his wounds was making her feel as though she were melting inside, and now she only wanted to give him pleasure, albeit not in an ordinary way. She put her hands on her hips and stood with her legs apart, feeling her wetness against her knickers.
“Get on the bed,” she said, “and raise your arms above your head.”
Jack made for the bed wit
hout argument, climbing up awkwardly without using his hands, and kneeling on the mattress, staring with a half-smile at his dominant woman.
“I said – with your hands above your head!” she gave him a push on his sculpted chest so he fell backwards, his arms in a tangle above his dark blonde head. “Don’t defy me now,” Lydia said dangerously, untying his hands a little so she had enough slack to tie them again, above Jack’s head, to the painted white, barred headboard. Jack had gooseflesh all over his arms, and the patches of dark blonde in his arm pits were standing on end.
Lydia made sure he was secure before climbing off the throw-covered bed and starting to undress herself. Off went the tight, clinging dress, into a heap on the floor. Then went the bra, revealing her full breasts. She wore no panties, only a suspender belt from which she had clipped a pair of dark, semi-opaque nylons that seemed to stretch her legs and make them go on forever. He high heels were shining black, and the beautiful young woman could see Jack’s eyes roaming over her, taking in everything from her shining hair to her rounded buttocks, and everything in between. She kept her shoes on, and climbed back onto the bed, straddling Jack between her thighs, his erection held teasingly in the crease between her buttocks.
“Jack…” she said, staring at his desperate face.
“Yes, Miss?” he said, biting his lip and she wriggled her bottom against his erection.
“Is this really what you wanted?” she felt safe in asking him, and not even fearful for their relationship. In the White Room, she felt safe enough to say or to ask anything. And she knew the questions were coming.
“Yes… Miss, I do want this,” Jack said, looking straight into her eyes.
“You want me to fuck you? Or you want me to beat you? Or you want me to be with you?” she asked, guiding Jack’s cock down past her buttocks to rest, pressing tantalisingly at the entrance to her sex. She held herself in position. One movement and he would slip inside her. Her own wetness was desperate to draw him in, but she resisted as he considered her question.
“I… want you to beat me, as you have,” he answered, gasping as Lydia dipped her hips and tasted the tip of his cock inside her for barely a moment. “I want you to fuck me, most certainly…” he sighed as the young woman dipped her hips again and took just his glans inside her.
Lydia moaned quietly to herself at the sensation. Jack’s glans were hot and ready – he could probably come just like this, and the feeling pressed her in all the right places – her g-spot was ready, loving the pressure on it, but she withdrew him again, not yet ready for the whole of him.
“And… do you want to be with me?” she said breathlessly. “Because, sir, I am afraid that I can no longer simply fuck you. Or beat you. Or spend time with you, because,” and she impaled herself on Jack’s cock, taking the whole of the large shaft inside herself, feeling him pushing on her cervix; her wet cunt swallowing him and fluttering over his hardness deliciously. “Because, I think I have… fallen for you!” she gasped, beginning to move her hips against the welcome intrusion.
Jack’s arms resisted against his bonds for a moment, trying to get loose as Lydia rose and fell on top of him, taking him completely inside her until she could fit no more of him within her.
“Fallen… for?” he tried to splutter; distracted by the waves of pleasure Lydia was drawing. “Me?” he tried to gain eye contact with her, but failed as she began bucking her hips, grinding her clitoris against his pelvic bone, and approaching her own climax.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” she touched herself briefly with one finger and her resistance broke down. She came gushingly, wetting her man’s thighs with the proof of her pleasure. Jack also roared in victory as a hot injection of semen hit Lydia’s cervix and spilled, over flowingly out of her and onto the submissive and spent Jack.
She withdrew him from her, and without saying another word, untied his hands and lay, half-dreaming on the white bed, next to the man whose eyes were open, and yet unseeing.
Chapter Four
“Did you mean what you said?” Jack’s words woke Lydia out of her doze and she looked up at him. Jack was sitting up, the tie still around one wrist, him face impassive.
“Why?” she asked, thinking if this was to be the end, she was going to let her true character shine through. No more games.
“Because no one has ever said that to me before,” he answered, looking sadder than she knew he could.
“Never?” she asked, sitting up herself, feeling her clitoris still throbbing.
“I… I am an unlovable man,” he said, “I have needs and cravings that cannot be met through a simple relationship. Sexually, I require different things, as well as not enjoying dating, or that pointless phase of ‘getting to know’ someone.”
“So you have never had a long-term relationship?”
“Only with my subs,” he said with a wry smile, “but I am aware that that doesn’t necessarily ‘count’, especially when they find someone else in a club. They always move on,” he said sadly.
“I haven’t moved on,” Lydia pointed out.
“And I expected you to, after our club visits,” he said, looking at her. “You have many admirers.”
“So do you,” she said.
“That is proof that a false reputation is as good as one founded on truth,” he said bitterly. “I am not even a regular attendee at the club… they just seem to assume that this air of inhospility and the way I refuse to take part in things is all because I get my thrills from places they can’t imagine.”
“Then why do you go?”
“Because it’s the only place I can spend even a little time with those who share my dark passion,” he answered, looking at Lydia’s naked, postsex body, which had the flush of pleasure still evident on her chest. She reached for her face and he did not flinch away as she ran her cool fingers over it, feelings the tiny start of stubble on his jaw.
“What if you shared it with me?” she asked. “This past month… has been the best… most pleasurable time I’ve ever spent, and I didn’t expect to be saying that about a time when there’s been a great deal of pain, torment and humiliation,” she smiled. “But it really has. It’s been wonderful,” she turned his face towards his and reached up to kiss him. He did not resist.
In Lydia’s mind, it would always be their ‘first kiss’. It was like two teenagers in a bedroom, trying to figure out what fit, and what worked. Their mouths moved to try and find a comfortable fit, and tongues stayed firmly behind teeth. Jack’s lips took a moment to soften, as though he did not want to kiss back, but when they did, he was gentle and tender in a way that Lydia had not known before. It lasted less than half a minute, but when they broke apart, Lydia felt something inside herself slip, and she knew she could not put it back together.
The next second, Jack’s hands were either side of her head, pushing her back down onto the softness of the bed, kissing gently and softly as though she were the most precious glass object in the word. Their nakedness pressed together, and Lydia felt her nipples contract and harden against Jack’s chest. It was a moment of lovemaking, rather than fucking, and Lydia knew it was an important test of both herself and her man.
She responded by opening her legs to him and guiding inside his already reerect cock. He slipped in easily, wetting himself with the juices of their last session, and began to slide in and out of her smoothly, stroking the walls of her vagina with exactly the right amount of pressure. Lydia raised her hips and stuffed a throw beneath them to raise them, allowing Jack to guide himself deep inside her, further than when she rode him, so their pelvises touched and he could go no further – pressing the head of his cock against Lydia’s cervix. Her wet and ready sex fluttered and trembled over him, ready for an assault of pleasure that kept on coming with every stroke.
Lydia readies herself for a second climax, feeling her sex contracting rhythmically as it approached. Jack has his face buried against her shoulder, and as his pace quickened, she felt his cock stiffen and he moan inco
herently into her skin, reeling as her own climax overtook her and she kept him buried inside her, holding him in her arms as their pleasure died.
“Did… did you hear me?” Jack whispered in Lydia’s ear. She turned, kissing his forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“When I… came, I said something to you… did you hear it?”
“No,” she said honestly, “I was, erm, busy myself.”
Jack looked at her and his eyes shone. “Then you’ll have to sleep with me again to find out what I said,” he replied.
Lydia’s eyes widened. “Was it –”
“I’m not saying,” he teased.
“But did you say you –”
“Not telling,” he grinned and rolled over, taking the covers with him, and Lydia smiled as she fought to get them back. Maybe the next time they had sex, she would be sure to listen hard for the three little words she was sure she had missed.
. Sexed Up, Tied Down Series
Book 1: Rescued By The Billionaire
Chapter One
Damn it, she was running off again.
Ethan didn’t understand it. Anytime he caught a glimpse of his beautiful, elusive neighbor, she seemed to be scuttling away before he could even say hello.
What was it about him that scared her so much? More to the point, what was it about her that intrigued him beyond belief?
Ethan had only seen her properly once. And yet that one time had been enough to be embedded in his memory. Slim, almost painfully so, and dressed in heavy, dark clothes. Her hair, long and ash blonde, was shaved down to a buzz on half of one side, while the rest of her silky looking locks cascaded over the other side of her face. Their eyes had caught and held as he’d been coming into the elevator and she’d emerged. They’d all but bumped into each other, but she’d righted her balance in time before they could collide.