F is for…: BDSM Checklist, Book Six

by L. DuBois

  Because he knew she needed it.

  Because he was her Master.

  “Master,” she whispered. Her hips continued to rise and fall in a steady, lazy rhythm.

  His fingers tightened on her nipples, his nostrils flaring in what she knew was pleasure.

  “Yes, my lovely Katrina?”

  “When are you going to use the ginger plug on me?”

  “When we’re ready to talk.”

  Katrina stilled. “Talk?”

  “Yes.” He patted her bottom and she started moving again. It hadn’t been a spank, but the warning had been there.

  “What are we going to talk about, Master?”

  “About us.”

  “And…you have to fig me while we do that?”

  “Yes, because when we talk I want to make sure you remember that you’re mine.” He frowned. “Damn it. Stop, Katrina.”

  She froze. “What did I do, Master?”

  “Nothing. Lie across my lap, so I can put the plug in.”

  Katrina climbed off him, her pussy reluctant to let that beautiful cock go. She laid herself across his thighs, tilting her hips up.

  “Can you spread yourself for me?”

  Katrina wiggled forward until her shoulders were on the mat, then reached back, grabbed her ass cheeks, and spread them open for him. She felt something cold touch her anus.

  “Lube, Master?”

  “Just a bit, since you’re already sore. After this, we’re done with our letter.”

  Katrina’s heart lurched. They were done? She thought they agreed to play again. After she’d told him about her past, did he not want her anymore? She’d been the first sub to ever safe word out on him. He was fun and sexy and kind. He deserved someone who was a match for that, not her. She was a messy tangle of submissive need and defensiveness.

  He eased the plug of ginger into her. The bit of lube provided some insulation as the end of the plug slid in, but then she felt the now familiar burn, combined with stretching that hadn’t been present the first time as her ring of muscle closed around the narrow grove he’d carved into the ginger. She gasped and wiggled. Her negative, worried thoughts fled, because all she could concentrate on was that sweet, hot burn.

  “Well done, Katrina.” His voice was a lovely, masculine growl.

  He helped her sit up and straddle his lap again. She hissed, because riding his cock necessitated the use of her ass muscles, which meant she was clenching around the plug.

  He stroked her breasts and sides. “You don’t have to have it in for long.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He pinched her nipples, hard enough that she moaned. “More, please, Master.”

  “Fuck yourself on me, and listen.”

  She obeyed, trying to find that sweet, lazy rhythm she’d had, but she couldn’t. Her movement were harder and jerkier than they had been.

  His fingers at her breasts provided the heavier sensation she needed, constantly stroking, pinching, and twisting.

  “I think you left something out when we were talking earlier,” he said.

  Katrina opened her eyes which had slid closed. What did he mean?

  “You said that your ex called this—” He traced the sides of her body with his hands. “—his. His breasts, his pussy.” His fingers returned to her nipples.

  “When you were pregnant, you couldn’t stand to hear that because your body wasn’t your own. You were busy converting food into a human being.”

  Katrina smiled at that. “Yes, I was.” The burning fullness in her ass, his hot, hard dick in her pussy, and his fingers on her nipples were starting to drive her wild. She had to focus on his face, pay attention to his words.

  “But it was more than that, wasn’t it?” Dante cupped her breasts. “You see there’s something not all hetero Doms realize. Or maybe they just don’t admit to it. The reason a woman submitting is so stunning is because you’re so powerful, so beautiful.”

  He kissed each nipple. “A goddess to be worshiped.” Then he bit her nipple gently.

  Katrina slid her hands around his head, holding her to his breast. “Please.”

  “When you were pregnant, his dominance of you should have changed. He should have realized that your breasts, your pussy, they were his only because you allowed it, but they were never merely his playthings.”

  Tears prickled Katrina’s eyes. “Thank you, for saying that. For understanding.”

  He held her still, pressing his forehead to hers. “There were more things I’d planned to say. More to that speech, but you feel so good that I don’t think I can wait any longer. Plus, if I think about how he treated you when you had PUPPP and SPD, it makes me want to murder him.”

  Katrina blinked. What had he just said?

  Dante’s hands slid to her hips, lifting her off his cock. She thought he was going to change positions, but instead he slammed her back down onto his cock. Katrina yelped in pleasure, then screamed as a second later the burn of the ginger hit her. She’d clenched her ass in reaction to the penetration.

  Dante’s arm slid around her, and she felt pressure as he started to pull the plug out.

  “Don’t stop moving,” he said.

  Katrina braced her hands on his shoulders and carefully slid up and down the pole of his cock. He eased the ginger out of her ass, only to shove it back in again.

  Katrina gasped at the double penetration. Her stomach muscles were tight with need, her nipples diamond hard. He took one in his mouth, sucking and biting.

  Katrina dug her nails into his shoulders. “Master, please, I’m going to come.”

  “Wait.”

  He withdrew the plug and tossed it away, then rolled her onto her back. He braced his elbows beside her, his face set in a fierce expression, a flush riding high on his cheekbones.

  “Come for me.” He surged into her.

  Katrina wrapped her legs around his hips and screamed as she came. The burn from the ginger had turned into a throbbing heat that fed into her orgasm. His chest scraped her nipples as he jackhammered into her. His cock filled and stretched her.

  But the thing that really tipped her over the edge was the look in his eyes. Dante looked at her with a mix of possession and reverence. There had only ever been possession in Jeff’s eyes.

  His eyes closed as he came, and Katrina held him close, reveling in the feeling of his big body quaking, and knowing she’d caused that.

  Dante collapsed down on top of her for a moment, before shifting to the side while keeping his head on her breasts. She laid her cheek on his curls and hugged him close.

  “Next weekend,” he murmured, “I’m going to fuck your ass again.”

  “Not next weekend, Master.” He tensed, but she soothed him with her hands. “The weekend after. Jeff has Lena every other weekend, Friday afternoon to Sunday night.”

  Dante hated the idea of Katrina’s daughter, whom he’d never met and had no right to worry about, being with Jeff. He still hadn’t ruled out killing the man. But he knew better than to say anything to her. He had zero right to comment on her parenting, and she would never let anything happen to her child. She was a fierce mama bear.

  She must have sensed his hesitation. “Jeff is a devoted father. After she was born we tried for two weeks to stay together, but without D/s we weren’t a good match. But we’re not half bad co-parents, though it took him a while to stop reacting badly when I said no and didn’t defer to what he wanted.”

  He stroked her smooth skin with his knuckles. He was aware of the seconds ticking past. Time was running out.

  Dante propped himself up so he could look down at her. “I want to be your Master, Katrina. Your only Master.”

  Katrina’s heart clenched. “I want that too.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She hesitated. “Aren’t you?”

  “I am, but you just came out of a committed D/s relationship.”

  “It’s been two years.” Katrina’s lips pressed together. “I will only submit he
re, at Las Palmas.”

  “That’s what I meant. I—” He stopped and cleared his throat, looking awkward.

  “Dante, what were you going to say?”

  “I was going to say I’d like to take you out to coffee, but that’s exactly the thing I shouldn’t say since we just made it clear that you just want a Master at the club which I’m fine with and—”

  Katrina smiled and pressed her fingers over his lips.

  He sighed. “I’m really bad at this,” he whispered against her fingers.

  “I’m a single mom trying to get my life back on track. I was only able to afford this place because the one smart thing I did was hire a good lawyer who made sure I got enough in the divorce to live comfortably if I invested wisely. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but a D/s relationship every other week is all I can really handle.”

  He nodded, and Katrina dropped her fingers from his lips.

  She let her smile widen. “That being said, I’d really like to have coffee with you.”

  Dante grinned, showing teeth, and cuddled her close.

  “I have to go soon,” she warned him, stroking his forearm.

  “Stay with me, just a little while more.”

  Chapter 16

  Katrina moved quickly towards her car. She wasn’t going to be late, but she didn’t have a ton of time either. Gravel crunched under someone’s feet. She wasn’t surprised when Dante jogged up next to her.

  “Hey, good looking, how about I give you my digits?” He tried to leer as he handed her a piece of paper.

  Katrina burst out laughing. “Who could resist such a gallant offer?”

  He fell in step with her. “You remember the instructions for taking care of yourself?”

  “You gave me plenty of aftercare.” She stopped at her car, and when she beeped it open, he took her bag and stuffed it in the trunk.

  Katrina looked at him, this wonderful man who had come into her life at just the right time and in just the right way. Then she remembered what he’d said before that last explosive fucking.

  Now that they were outside the club she had a question.

  “Dante, what do you do?”

  His smile was slow. “Did you tell the Overseers about your past when you joined?”

  “Yes, I had to.”

  “I have to say, we’re probably not a random pairing.”

  Katrina frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Dante held out his hand. “Dr. Dante Jones.”

  She shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor. And that explains your hands.”

  He held up his hands, showing her the cracked, scratchy palms. “Lots of hand washing. One of the nurses told me about this cream I should get, but I never remember.”

  Maybe she’d pick some up for him. Just to be friendly.

  Another thought occurred to her. “How did you know what PUPPP and SPD are?” Pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy, or PUPPP was the name of the horrible rash she’d had. Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction, SPD, was what had left her walking with a cane as the front of her pelvis separated too early, making moving almost excruciating. They were something that only happened to pregnant women so he must be…

  He grinned. “Dr. Dante Jones, Obstetrician and Maternal-Fetal Medicine Specialist.”

  Katrina stared. “You’re an OB.”

  “Yep.”

  “You deal with pregnant women all day.”

  “Well, right now I’m actually doing research. We’re working on fetal surgery research—there’s not enough cross over between OB and Peds when it comes to that—and due to a fellowship I had, I’ve actually done some fetoscopic surgery.”

  Katrina didn’t know what that meant, but she was still trying to take in the fact that Dante was an OB.

  “So when you said you were one of the best fisters in the state…”

  “I thought that was pretty funny.”

  Katrina smacked him.

  Dante laughed and grabbed her around the waist, planting a kiss on her nose.

  “Now you probably think I’m just some whiny woman who went crazy when she was pregnant.”

  The amusement left his face. “Never say that. Do you know why I became an OB? I’d planned to go into general surgery.”

  “Why?”

  “First, because I have a lot of brothers and sisters and I’m the oldest. My dad always worked so I was the one who went with Mom to her appointments. It felt like my mama spent most of my childhood pregnant. I’m not sure my mother ever saw a doctor except her OB, and he took care of her, really took care of her. I remember there was one time that she was just so tired he admitted her to the hospital for two days. I overheard him telling my father that she needed a break. My grandma came out and helped with us kids, but my mama would never have asked for help without that doctor.

  “And the second reason is because hospitals aren’t happy places. People are there because something is wrong. Except the maternity floor. That’s a place of miracles. That was my favorite rotation.” He shook his head. “Everyone expects only women to go into that field, but I’m good at what I do. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m one of the top in the state. I handle some of the most high-risk pregnancies and get referrals from all over the country.” He smoothed her hair back from her face.

  “Sexy, kind, I’m guessing rich, doctor who takes care of vulnerable pregnant women?” Katrina got on her toes to kiss him, breaking away reluctantly. “You better not make me fall in love with you, Dr. Jones.”

  Dante smiled at her. “I’m not making any promises.”

  Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Be sure to check out G is for… You can grab it right now HERE and join my reader list for exclusive offers, free books, and more!

  ~Lila

  G is for…

  A good submissive would be waiting patiently, but Sejal had never claimed to be a particularly obedient submissive, and waiting made her itchy—time spent waiting was time wasted. When she wasn’t at Las Palmas, the exclusive and expensive BDSM club in the canyons of Malibu, she had every minute of her day carefully planned and plotted.

  As her career had progressed over the past few years, she did less and less of the plotting and planning. Her nurses and the hospital admins handled that.

  She shook back her hair, as if doing that would help her shed thoughts of work.

  Coming to Las Palmas was her break. A chance for her to not be in charge. A chance to practice giving up control.

  A chance to see Hachiro, better known at Las Palmas as Master Sato.

  Is he really your master?

  Sejal placed her fingers on her bare throat. Last year, Hach had collared her, and more importantly they'd been declared bonded. Normally that didn't particularly matter, but earlier today the overseers of the club had dropped a bombshell, announcing a new "game." Every member was assigned a partner and a letter of the alphabet. With their partner they had to work through every kink and toy listed on the club’s extensive BDSM checklist.

  Sejal had been a member for two years, and had only the vaguest memory of the checklist. She'd paid more attention to the membership contract, and grilled the overseers about the privacy policy, the NDA everyone filled out, and a variety of other things. At the time she'd been reluctant to join. It had taken Hach’s gentle encouragement, and a few reminders about what they'd learned about managing stress, to get her to agree. Once she'd signed, and committed to being a submissive, she'd strived to be the best submissive she could be.

  Then, a few months ago, when Hach demanded she top him, she'd strived to be the best switch possible.

  Sejal paced the dressing room the submissives used. The club was housed in an expansive mission-style estate, comprising a series of buildings with rooms that faced into small courtyards. The subs' dressing room was in the Subs' Garden. After the announcement of the game, which had taken place in an all-member meeting in the Conclave—a rather pretentious name for the equally pretentiou
s horse-less stable building, most of the subs had come back here. One by one they were called over the loudspeaker system as their Doms summoned them to the various areas and playrooms.

  Sejal watched as the lovely dark-skinned woman whose corset she had just tightened walked out. It was the poor thing’s first day, which meant she was about to have a very dramatic, intense introduction to at least one if not more of the Doms of Las Palmas. On the plus side, since she was new, she’d only recently filled out the checklist, and probably remembered what was on it, unlike Sejal.

  Unfortunately, the corseted woman, Katrina, was called away before she could recount more than a few of the things she remembered from the checklist.

  What letter did they have? She’d tried to watch to see what letter Hach had been handed, but two other Doms had blocked her view. Sejal resumed pacing.

  “Nervous?” Sarah was blond, and wearing high-waisted leather panties.

  “Not particularly,” Sejal said. It wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t really nervous. Her time here, her scenes with Hach, they were…predictable. She’d been thrown for a loop when he’d demanded she top him, but within a matter of weeks she was comfortable with that.

  Disappointed, but comfortable.

  She pushed that thought aside.

  “Oh wait, you’re bonded, right?” Sarah asked.

  The overseers had arranged the pairings for the games, and based on their explanation, their accusations that the members had become too comfortable and weren’t pushing themselves, she was sure they were deliberately creating new or mismatched pairings.

  That idea excited her. Something, someone new. That thought made her wince. She and Hach had been through so much together that her stomach clenched at the disloyal thought.

  It didn’t matter if she liked the idea of being with someone new, because the one exception to the rule was members who were bonded. The overseers would not split them up.

  Still, she would get to try new things. Surely there would be items beginning with their letter that they hadn’t tried before. Maybe for the sake of the game Hach would go back to being the top, and she could actually give up control for a little while.