by Ravenna Tate
We lock gazes for long moments. “I haven’t answered your question,” he finally says.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but I stop myself.
“After high school, I was more careful when I dated before jumping into the sex part, but I still misjudged a few times. It was frustrating. Once Dakar, Asa, and I began visiting clubs and immersing ourselves in the lifestyle, at least I knew the women I met were already interested.”
I have to ask. Damn the consequences. If I don’t, it will be on my mind the rest of the night. And come morning, when I’ve lost my chance to find out, I will kick myself for years over not taking the plunge.
“So, how is it you’ve remained unattached this long?”
“I don’t want to give this up. And understandably, women don’t want to share me with other submissives. With other women.”
All right, now that needs clarification. “You mean you don’t want to be monogamous?”
“No, that’s not what I mean at all. Not in terms of sex, at least. I want to continue topping submissives at the club when asked to do so, and I want to continue with these surveys. But, if I was in a relationship where it was understood we were monogamous in terms of dating and sex, there would be no sexual play or touching as you and I have been doing this evening.”
“Well, forgive me for asking, but what’s so terrible about that? Isn’t this your job?”
He raises his brows. “Yes, it is. The purpose of these surveys isn’t merely to satisfy our own curiosity, or our lust. They’re to establish a spectrum of likes and dislikes, that we can use to educate the public.”
“I understood that from what I read, and I think it’s a noble pursuit.”
His expression turns thoughtful. “For the sake of argument, let’s say you and I began dating, and we agreed to be monogamous. Are you saying you’d trust me in here with another woman like yourself? One who came here to participate in a survey?”
“There would be no sex, or sexual touching like you did to me, right?”
“That’s correct. We would establish that up front.”
“What if you were so turned on you couldn’t help yourself?”
As he shakes his head again, his gaze darkens. “How would that be any different than cheating on a spouse or a girlfriend? We meet people everyday who arouse us in different ways, but we don’t act on the impulses. That’s the difference between being in a committed relationship, and biding your time until something better comes along. The latter is not me. I would never do that. I would never betray that trust.”
He pushes the plates aside and takes my hands in his. His touch is so warm and comforting, and I’m on the edge of my seat, anticipating what he’ll say next.
“In this kind of a relationship, probably more so than in any other, trust is vital. Take what happened to you earlier. If you didn’t trust me to recognize how deeply and quickly you dropped into subspace, and to intervene appropriately, you could have been seriously hurt. I also have to trust you to safeword when you’re able to, and when you recognize that you need to.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way before.”
“That’s why I would never betray the trust of a relationship that went beyond what we’re doing tonight. But I’ve never been able to convince a woman of that. Not for any length of time, at least.”
“That sounds sad.”
“It’s disappointing.”
“I didn’t expect this. All this talking. It’s really nice.”
“I enjoy playing, but I also enjoy getting to know the person as a human being. It makes the play a lot more fun.”
That heart-stopping grin is on his face again, and my pussy gets instantly wet. “And speaking of playing, are you ready for more?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I expect to either clear the dishes myself, or that he will, since I’m uncertain how the cart got here in the first place. He pulls a bell cord, like the kind on shows about royalty, and in no more than thirty seconds the door opens. I cross my arms over my breasts, which is silly because the man who enters doesn’t even make eye contact, let alone gaze at my naked body.
He’s wearing a thick, leather collar, and heads straight for the cart. Slade doesn’t say a word, but it’s the way he’s standing there that captivates me. Stern expression, feet slightly apart, arms crossed. His entire aura changed, just like that. The man doesn’t look at him, either. He stacks the dishes so they won’t fall when the cart moves, and pushes it out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Who was he?”
“One of the service subs who take care of the domestic chores in the building.”
“Are you his Dom?”
“No.” He smiles at me, and his body language has changed again. How does he do that? Is he even aware of it? “Other Doms have authority over the domestic workers. We find it easier to use men and women who want to be submissive in this way, rather than hiring outside employees to do the same chores. It keeps things from becoming complicated, and prevents us from having to explain the dynamics to outsiders.”
“So, these men and women don’t have a sexual relationship with their Doms?”
“No, they do not. They don’t play, either. These particular men and women exhibit their submissiveness by working for us.”
“There’s so much to learn.”
“And I’d love to teach it to you.” He sheds his robe, and I’m mesmerized by his naked body. When he crosses the room and pulls me into his arms, I inhale his scent, now mixed with the food we’ve eaten. I wish I didn’t have to leave in the morning. This has been the most erotic, exhilarating night of my life, and I don’t want it to end.
“I’m not sure how much more impact play you can take on your rear end tonight, Chelsea. Your skin is pretty raw.”
Shivers run down my spine as one of the thoughts that ran through my mind earlier comes back to me. “Are there other places on my body to try? Maybe not with the same toys, but with others?”
When he glances down at me, I sigh as the approval in his eyes washes over me. “You even sound different than when you first walked in here. Do you have any idea how proud I am right now?”
My tongue won’t move, so I shake my head.
“Very. You’ve responded so well, and have really opened up. So, as a reward, I’m going to let you tell me what you want me to do to you now, and where you want me to do it.”
I laugh softly. “Oh? Is that a reward?”
“Yes, it is, because we need to build on your newfound confidence with verbalization, and this is the perfect opportunity.”
Arousal races through me once more. I push closer to his body, loving the hardness of it. He is so beautiful, and I’ve never been this happy. I have an overwhelming desire to make sure every second of the rest of this night is spent touching him, looking into his eyes, and seeing him smile.
“You mentioned nipple clamps earlier. I would like to try that. And, I was imagining what some of those toys would feel like on my breasts and my pussy.”
A low, sexy hum escapes his throat, and I swear he shivers. “Oh, Chelsea, you are magnificent. Let’s explore that. I want to make you scream with pleasure.”
Chapter Eight
He kisses me, tongue and all, and I’m lost in the dizzying sensation of strong arms enfolding me while that magical mouth works over mine. His dick is rock hard again, and I move my hips against it, rocking them forward and backward, until I’m so damn wet the juices trickle down my thighs.
“Chelsea…” His whisper sends shivers down my spine. That incredible mouth moves to my neck, where he plants tiny bites up and down my jawline. I want to fuck him so badly I taste it.
“Where do you want to be for this? The cross again? One of the benches?” He grasps my breasts and dips his head, licking the nipples with long, slow strokes. “I can’t wait to see these clamped.”
“Wherever you want me.” Thinking is impossible.
Breathing is difficult. Speaking is a chore.
“Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me toward a bowed leather bench. I’ve been intrigued with this one since spying it when I first came into the room. “This might be too intense for you since you’ll be restrained and completely open to me.”
“I’ll be all right. Thank you for asking.”
The expression on his face is tender. “Your care is my concern.”
I like this. A lot. “Is it really this easy?”
Confusion fills his eyes. “Is what really this easy?”
“Being a submissive.”
“Everyone’s dynamic is different. If you were my sub, we’d work new things in over time, once you were ready. But of course, that would depend on what you enjoyed, and what didn’t do it for you.”
“What about you? What does it for you?”
Every time he grins, I want to get on my knees and beg him to fuck me. Hard. “I’ve already told you my two favorite things, Chelsea, and we’ve done them both. The rest is icing on the cake.”
After he assists me into a comfortable position on the bench, and both my wrists and ankles are restrained with soft leather, I understand what he meant about this being intense. It’s that, plus it puts me into a vulnerable position. My arms and legs are spread wide, and my hips are arched upward slightly. The bench itself can be raised or lowered, lending all sorts of decadent possibilities to what he will do with me and to me.
He makes a show out of circling me on the bench, that sexy grin on his face. When he pulls gently on his cock, I yell in frustration. “Please…”
“What do you want, Chelsea? Tell me.” The movement of his hand up and down his shaft grows faster. Tiny beads of pre-cum are visible at the tip. I lick my lips. “Tell me in detail what you want me to do to you, or I will stand here and beat off in front of you.”
“Oh!” This isn’t just teasing. The truth is in his eyes.
“I told you. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.”
Speak now, fool! “Flog my nipples. With a softer flogger, please. Hit them. With … with your hands, and with a soft toy. Put clamps on them. Flog my pussy. Paddle my pussy.”
A huge, wicked grin slowly spreads over his face as I confess my secret desires. “What else? You’re not done. There’s more in your eyes.”
Shit. I have to say it. There’s no way around this. He senses it, and will make me tell him, or this will stop. “Fuck me,” I whisper, as huge tears spill over my lashes. “Fuck me, Slade. I want … I want your dick inside my pussy.”
Satisfaction and lust fill his eyes. “Finally. I’ve been waiting to hear that since the second you walked in here.”
He releases his cock and strolls over to me, kissing me deeply. I moan in the back of my throat and strain upward, but I’m held down tightly. It’s over too soon. He crosses the room toward the armoire. This time, his selections are quick. Clamps, a leather flogger without beads, a small wooden paddle, and what I swear is a riding crop.
The same expression he wore when the male sub came into the room graces his face as he stands there, eyeing me. “Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. I wish you could see how you look, the way I see you.”
I sniffle, drawing in the last of the tears. He pulls a chair over and sits down for a second, then stands and raises the bench until it’s level with his chest while seated. “You’re all right, Chelsea. Safeword if you need to.”
“Okay.”
When he moves the chair between my legs and sits again, I moan before his fingers are inside my pussy. This time, he slides two in there, and there is no pain. Only intense pleasure as he fucks me with his fingers, and gently taps my clit with the riding crop. It stings, but not nearly as much as the beaded flogger did on my ass. The sensation is exquisite, and within seconds I’m on my way to another orgasm.
As it crests, he chuckles low in his throat and switches to lightly swatting my clit with the paddle. This prolongs the contractions, which I suspect he knew would happen. I moan and whimper, slowly moving my head back and forth, as the climax goes on and on. It’s almost painful now, it’s so intense. When he stops, I’m panting.
“Do you need water?”
“No.”
He stands, and my gaze drops to his dick, which is ready to explode. How in the world is he exercising such self-control? Holding only the flogger now, he circles me again, before swishing the falls over my nipples. The swings are gentle, slow, and cause no pain at all, but instead produce a slight tingling sensation that causes my clit to throb again.
“Do you like that?”
“Very much.”
As he throws the flogger harder against my pussy, I yelp. “What about that?”
“Yes. It’s exquisite.”
“Good girl.”
I love that he bothers to ask, but he’s able to read my face so I wonder how necessary the asking is. Like an artist working with his paints, Slade shapes my excitement by alternating the implements on my nipples and pussy.
He’s careful on the former, recognizing my sharp intake of breath when he’s struck too hard. To my pussy, he shows no mercy, taking his cues from my slow, soft moans. I haven’t reached a limit there, yet.
Soon, I slip into the same intoxicating combination of pain and pleasure as I experienced on the cross, but this time, it’s not as deep. I have control and awareness that wasn’t there before. When he stops, I sigh out loud as the now-familiar disappointment floods me. But as I glance into his face, I understand he’s not done, only changing tactics.
“These won’t hurt until I remove them, but once I do, your orgasm will be out of this world.”
I stare at the clamps. He’s certain I’ll have another orgasm, which forces up a tiny giggle. How in the world he expects to accomplish that is too intriguing to pass up. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” How I love that phrase already! I want to do things that lead him to say it.
He’s right about the clamps. They don’t hurt. Once they’re on, the sensation is more pressure than pain. I’m both surprised and delighted by this. He strolls over to the dresser and pulls out something. His back is to me, but I recognize the sound of a condom being donned. I nearly cry again from happiness. I’m going to get my ultimate wish!
It’s been a while, and I’m afraid this is going to hurt, but once he kisses me, the fear is gone. He won’t let that happen. “Chelsea, I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes. Please.”
He raises the bench and steps between my legs, caressing my clit until I’m crying out in pleasure. “That’s my girl. Let it all go, Chelsea. Every inhibition you have left. Release it. Be mine, completely.”
“Yes! Yes!”
At first, there is pain because his dick is larger than two fingers, but I’m so wet, and he’s so careful, that it’s gone quickly. I’m not certain it was there to begin with. “Oh, God … oh, Slade. It feels so damn good!”
“Good” is not an adequate word. It’s fucking incredible. Unlike anything that’s happened to me.
He moves slowly at first, massaging my clit at the same time. “That’s it. Good girl. You’re so tight! It’s fucking amazing, Chelsea. Relax your muscles. You can do this.”
And, because he tells me so, I do. I let go of everything and allow him to slide completely inside me, so far that with each thrust, his balls smack my ass.
“Oh, fuck. That’s it, sweetheart. Yes. This is absolutely perfect!”
“I’m coming again. Oh, God, I’m coming again.”
He removes the clamps, still fucking me, and rubs my nipples between his fingers as the most intense sensation I’ve ever experienced races through me. The pain is crazy but brief, and in its wake is the most exquisite orgasm possible. This can’t be real, and yet it is. He groans loudly as the contractions milk his cock, and I’m screaming in pleasure, just like he told me he wanted to hear.
There is no way to help that. I’ve never felt anything so glorious in my life. Tears stream down my
cheeks, and still he’s not done. His hands knead my breasts as he slams into my pussy, grunting and moaning loudly with each thrust. I had no damn clue sex could be this exquisite.
“I’m coming, Chelsea…”
Finally. I have wanted him to do this since he first ate me out. It’s only fair. I’ve had what … ten? And he only gets one. That’s hardly adequate, but the bliss on his face sends my heart soaring. He’s enjoying this as much as I am.
This perfect, beautiful man has just fucked me into oblivion, and he got as much pleasure out of it as I did. All my fantasies really have come true. Nothing can top this. It’s simply not possible.
Chapter Nine
Slade has kissed me goodbye five times now, and I’m still searching for ways to prolong this. Once I walk out that door, I will never see him again, and I’m not equipped to handle that. He’s the most perfect creature I’ve ever met, and I don’t want to leave him.
“I had a wonderful time.” It’s the fourth time I’ve said that.
“I did, too. Thank you, Chelsea. Once the narrative of your night is finished, I’ll email it to you for your approval. Daphne will send over another consent to sign, giving us permission to use the experience in our results.”
It’s come down to this. I’m merely a participant in their experiment. My night of fantasies coming true is reduced to a narrative that I’ll have to give someone permission to put online and in print.
If I don’t ask, I’ll never have an answer. “Will I ever see you again?”
The uncertainty on his face gives me the answer before he speaks. I’m crushed. “I’m not sure, Chelsea. It’s a lot to think about.”
“What’s a lot to think about? Seeing me outside this setting?” I’m bold because I have nothing to lose. The guy I’ve dreamed about my entire adult life finally materialized, and if I let him go without telling him, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“Seeing anyone outside this setting. I’ve been disappointed in the past.”