Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis)

by Zurlo, Michele

  Safe Word: Oasis 4

  WANTING WILDER

  Michele Zurlo

  Safe Word: Oasis 4: Wanting Wilder

  Copyright © October 2012 by Michele Zurlo

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  eISBN 9781623000363

  Editor: Tamzon Mitchell

  Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs

  Published in the United States of America

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  PO Box 809

  San Francisco CA 94104-0809

  www.loose-id.com

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * *

  DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Dedication

  This is for everyone who wanted to know what kind of people work to put these wishes together.

  Acknowledgments

  First I’d like to thank my editor, Tamzin Mitchell, for her ability to get right to the heart of things and for challenging me to always be better. Thanks also to my family for their unwavering support. Without you girls, I’d never get out of the house.

  Chapter One

  8 years ago

  The lighting on the dance floor was dim, but it wasn’t quite so bad on the stage. Of course, Lydia wasn’t on the stage, but the additional lights there, and the fact the woman’s short skirt had ridden up, allowed her to see the exact shade of pink the woman’s ass had turned.

  She leaned in close to her friend Brigit and lowered her voice so that only Brigit could hear. “It can’t be as bad as it looks, right? It’s because she’s so white.”

  Brigit shrugged. “I don’t know about her ass, but look at her face. She’s in heaven. I think I look like that after a really expensive massage or a vibrator-induced orgasm. Ain’t no man can please me the way I please myself.”

  Lydia agreed with the sentiment, but she hadn’t accepted it the way Brigit had. Just because that was true now didn’t mean it would always be true. There had to be someone out there who was meant for her—and that man would have skills that exceeded those of her battery-operated companion.

  The whip, which had a lot of leather strips hanging from it, smacked hard against the woman’s ass. The loud music drowned out any cries or pleas the woman might have been screaming, but the thwack had come through loud and clear.

  Lydia studied the big man wielding the imposing device. The angle of the lights put his face in shadow, so she couldn’t make out his features. Standing below the stage as she was, she couldn’t determine his height, but he was tall. And big. His shoulders were wide. He looked like a linebacker. When he stopped and stepped back, two black-clad attendants released the woman from the cuffs. She took a couple steps on wobbly legs, and then she seemed to get herself under control. She shook her head at one of the helpers, adjusted her skirt, and left the stage under her own power.

  The man lifted the whip in his hand and looked out over the crowd. “Next!”

  “Go on. I dare you.” Brigit giggled and pushed Lydia forward. “Try one new thing.”

  Lydia turned the full force of her glare on Brigit. The two of them had met because they’d been roommates their freshman year of college. They’d hit it off immediately. Over the past three years, their friendship had flourished.

  Traveling to Fort Lauderdale for her twenty-first birthday had not been her first choice. The fact that it coincided with spring break and a deeply discounted flight had been the deciding factors. She and Brigit had just wanted to escape February in Michigan.

  “When we came up with the idea last night to come here, we talked about taking chances. To me, coming here is daring enough. Going up there? That’s just plain crazy. They don’t even serve drinks, so I’m not drunk enough to do something stupid.” Lydia turned away, cringing at the remembered sound of the whip as it hit flesh. The flyer advertising Beginner Night hadn’t been all that descriptive, but it had been enough to pique their interest.

  “Chicken.” Brigit grinned and ignored Lydia’s expression. Mischief sparkled from her dark eyes. “I’ll do it if you will.”

  Lydia snorted. Brigit talked a good game, but she rarely followed through. “You go first.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at Brigit, challenging her friend to put herself in the hands of the big Dom offering to flog anyone willing to be tied to the large cross bolted to the stage floor.

  Lifting her chin high, Brigit flounced up the stairs. Lydia watched as the man secured her friend’s wrists to the thick leather cuffs chained to the X. Horrified fascination kept her attention riveted on her friend. The Dom concentrated on Brigit’s skirt-covered ass and the bare flesh of her upper thighs. Without the immediate presence of her friend to distract her, Lydia found herself unable to look away or think of anything else.

  After she was released, Brigit came down the steps and stopped next to Lydia. She smiled, complete calm emanating from her serene eyes. “Oh my God, Lydia. It’s amazing. And you’re up.”

  Someone a little more motivated made it onto the stage first. Lydia shrugged. “Looks like I’m too late.”

  Brigit huffed. “No, you’re not. Get your ass on the steps. There’s a line forming.”

  Lydia’s legs felt like lead as she forced herself to walk to the stairs. She couldn’t cry off now and let Brigit win this one. Two more women were in front of her. Lydia suffered through their turns too, imagining herself up there with alternating horror and fascination. Then it was her turn.

  The big man rolled his shoulder and winced. He motioned to another man. The two of them exchanged words, and the big man handed the whip over to his friend. Lydia wouldn’t call him smaller, exactly. He was just as tall, but he was built more like a quarterback than a lineman.

  He smiled at her and came across the stage, hand extended. He waited until she accepted his handshake. “You can call me Sir. The safe word is Oasis. Say it and the action stops, no questions, no recriminations. Have you ever done this before?”

  She shook her head. He didn’t look more than a year or two older than her. “Have you?”

  His smile gentled. “Yes. Don’t worry. I’ve been a Dom for years. I’m going to start light, and we’ll work our way up from there. If at any time it gets too intense, just say the safe word, okay?”

  She glanced toward the nearest speaker, which was pounding hard with the bass rhythm and nearly drowning out the words he shouted close to her ear.

  He followed her line of sight. “You know what? How about a safe signal? Put your thumb and
forefinger in the shape of an O, and that will signal me to stop. Okay?”

  That made her feel a lot better. “Okay.”

  He looked at her expectantly. She didn’t know what he wanted. He took a breath and gave her the prompt. “Sir. You will always answer with my title.”

  Lydia studied him and noted the serious glint in his blue eyes. He had a friendly, playful side, but there was no mistaking the hard-ass lurking beneath. “Okay, Sir.”

  “Great. Let’s get you secured to the cross. We use restraints because they keep you from moving.” He buckled the cuff onto her right wrist.

  “It’s a control thing.” She’d heard a few things, mostly rumors, about the BDSM lifestyle. Before this, she’d never been interested. Now she wished she’d paid more attention.

  “Sometimes. Tonight it’s a safety feature. If you can’t move, I can’t hit you anywhere I’m not aiming. I’ll concentrate on your ass, thighs, and shoulders.” He secured her left wrist. The attendants took care of her ankles.

  He hadn’t asked her to remove any clothes. Both Brigit and the girl before her had been wearing minidresses. Lydia was wearing jean shorts and a low-cut shirt that wrapped around her torso and tied at her hip. She felt his chest press against her back as he crowded her against the cross.

  “I’ll go harder on your ass so you can feel it through your shorts. In a perfect world, you’d be naked and we’d be alone.” He spoke low enough so that she knew she was the only person who heard him, and his breath whispered against her temple. If he hadn’t been about to whip her, she would have been seriously turned on.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  As promised, he started with her ass. The whip smacked her shorts, the impact sounding much louder than it felt. When it fell away, she relaxed. This wasn’t going to be so bad. She’d come out of this with a story to tell that would make her sound tougher than she really was.

  The next kiss of the whip stung. She jerked her hips away, trying to escape, but there was nowhere to go. She whimpered, a protest only she heard. Part of her brain wanted to flash the signal, but the stronger part of her wanted to last longer than Brigit had. She could outdo her friend.

  He peppered her shoulders and ass, dropping down to include the bare backs of her thighs. The heat morphed into a slow burn, and Lydia was shocked to find that her panties had grown damp and her clit throbbed.

  All too soon, the attendants released her ankles and wrists. She cried out in protest, but they merely turned her around. Now she faced Sir. The lights shone in her eyes, blocking out details. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could read his fierce expression and the power radiating from his body as he waited for the attendants to secure her in this new position.

  She jerked against the restraints, more to test them than to try to get free. He came closer, crowding her again with his body. He smelled both clean and sweaty, a heady combination, and she had the urge to bury her face in his neck. Cream gushed between her legs, and she swallowed hard.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Fine, Sir.” She didn’t know how she found the will to speak, but her voice came out strong and steady.

  He smiled, and she basked in the warm glow of pleasure from this stranger’s approval. “You can take more.”

  It wasn't a question, and she didn’t respond. She knew her eyes had to be wide with shock. Besides a crippling desire, that was the only other feeling she could identify.

  He resumed his position. She expected him to go for her thighs, but the first hit centered over her pussy. The ends of the whip’s tendrils struck between her legs, and she was grateful for the denim that protected her tender parts. The next few blows concentrated on her breasts. She felt the gentle stings individually, but they cascaded together into a heat that sent her soaring.

  The inferno grew. Vaguely, she was aware that she was arching into the blows, meeting each caress with increasing abandon. She’d given herself over to the pleasure-pain of the moment, submitting to the power of the whip until the feelings converged. She climaxed, right there with several hundred people watching. She didn’t know if she screamed. Blue eyes penetrated the fog in her mind, the last thing she remembered before her consciousness floated away to find a place where only pleasure existed.

  * * * *

  Present day

  It was way past the time she should have been in bed. The job interview she had scheduled in the morning was possibly the single most important one she would ever have. Not only was her dream job at stake, her self-esteem and the desires lurking deep in her heart were on the line as well.

  But she couldn’t sleep. Too much was at risk for her to relax. She knew what she needed. Her laptop was already powered up. She’d left it in sleep mode because she knew she’d need to use it. As she waited for her chat feature to connect, she prayed he’d be online.

  MASTRV: Nervous?

  She’d told him she had a job interview in the morning, but she hadn’t revealed anything about the nature of the job. This online Dom respected her privacy and the bounds of their pseudorelationship. They’d been chatting for almost two years, and he hadn’t once indicated he wanted to meet. She liked that about him.

  CHAINSFREE: Yes. I can’t sleep.

  Her handle was stupid, but she hadn’t realized that until after she’d committed to it. She’d meant it to indicate that being chained set her free. It was meant to indicate a preference for bondage. Only later had she realized it sounded like she was advertising her lack of a boyfriend.

  MASTRV: He’s coming from another state just to interview you. They’re interested, C. Most firms would set up a teleconference, save money.

  CHAINSFREE: You’re right, of course. I’m still a bundle of nerves. I keep thinking that he’ll walk in and realize they had it all wrong and I’m not the woman for the job.

  MASTRV: I doubt that. My guess is that they’ve already decided on you. Be strong and confident. Remind them why you’re better for this job than anyone else.

  CHAINSFREE: I want it more. I need it more.

  MASTRV: No, C. THEY need YOU. The art of persuasion is based in knowing what somebody needs and telling them how you can fulfill that need. Make them understand that nobody can do this the way you can. You’re an incredible person, C. Make them see that.

  She’d often wondered what the V stood for. Vincent? Vasili? Vittorio? She had eventually settled on Vitalis. In the past year, he’d become vital to her life. She didn’t know his name or what he looked like, but in many ways, he was her closest confidant. He was the only one who understood her need for bondage, pain, and submission and hadn’t tried to take advantage of her. Her experience with dating Doms hadn’t worked out too well—they’d all been more interested in power and control than having a real relationship, so she’d given up on looking for one. Master V dominated her to a small extent, but mostly he was her friend, champion, and mentor. She told him about her problems, and she provided a sub’s perspective for him when he had girl troubles.

  CHAINSFREE: You rock, Master V. You always know what to say.

  MASTRV: Glad I could help. I’m going to be offline for the next few days. My brother and I will be off the grid, fishing. No computers or cell phones, just two guys and a stream. I will contact you when I return, and you can tell me all about this new job you’re getting. Now go to bed, C. Have sweet dreams.

  It was a short conversation, but he’d said exactly what she needed to hear to bolster her confidence and put her mind at ease. She lay back on her pillow and slipped under the layers of blankets. September nights were cooler, and she loved sleeping enveloped in things.

  Two issues swirled in her head. Thanks to Master V, neither of them was her upcoming job interview. No, at times like this she thought of Wilder. He’d introduced her to the pleasure of having a Dom so long ago, but then he’d abandoned her after that one weekend. She could still feel the way his lips felt on her body and the way the blunt tip of his cock nudged through her folds and impaled h
er pussy.

  Then she thought of Master V. He was a stranger, but he’d been there for her for two years now. Every time she had a problem, every time she caved to desperation and let another man flog her—sometimes against her better judgment—he was there to help her talk through her issues. He lent her a Dom’s perspective, but he’d also become a strange kind of friend. They’d never met. They didn’t know each other’s names, and they’d never exchanged pictures.

  In her head, the images combined. Wilder, the horny college student, merged with Master V, the wise and supportive Dom, to form the perfect man. Lydia grabbed her vibrator from her nightstand and slid it between her legs. She turned it to the pulse setting and ran it along her inner thighs. Closing her eyes, she heard Wilder’s voice telling her not to move. If she moved, he would take it away. He praised her—just as Master V would—for not wiggling her pelvis insistently.

  Good girls wait for their Masters.

  Lydia thrived on pleasing her Master, even if he was only in her head. “Yes,” she hissed. “I’ll wait, Master.”

  She moved the tip of the vibrator to her mound and teased her slit, sliding it up and down, and she struggled not to match the movement. Beautiful, Lydia. Look at that gorgeous pussy, dripping for me.

  She whimpered. The vibrator parted her folds. He massaged her cream into her tissues and turned up the rate on the pulse feature. She opened her eyes to find those cloudless, sky-blue eyes watching her with undeniable hunger. Any second now, he would let his baser instincts overtake him, and she’d be helpless in the face of the onslaught.

  “Please.” She lifted her hips in offering, but in doing so she’d disobeyed his command. Just like that, she found herself flipped over. His hand rained discipline on her ass until it throbbed in time with the pulsations of the vibrator he’d left in her pussy. “I’m sorry, Master. I just want you so much.”

  He lifted her ass in the air. The vibrator was gone, and he thrust his cock home, pounding harder and faster until she screamed. When he was spent, he drew her into his arms and held her close. Beautiful, Lydia. You are the perfect submissive.