“Those are very powerful words. Not easily said. I’m very proud of you.” Derek worked two fingers inside of her and began to move them in and out slowly.
She panted. “Please…please!” She arched herself into him seeking more.
He pulled out, and she fell back, understanding what he was doing, even if it was the most exquisite torture.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s hard not to be pushy…demanding. Please, don’t torture me anymore. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg, just make me come.” She couldn’t believe the need in her voice. But it was true. She would get on her knees for him.
His other hand stroked her hair, while his fingers moved back inside of her. Derek pleasured her with deep, long, easy strokes, not the vigorous touch she craved. “You’re doing a good job begging. Ask me again, but this time call me Sir. Acknowledge your feelings, your sense of our roles. Defer to me, in your demeanor, your voice, in your very speech. Now, let me hear you beg for what you want.”
Sally didn’t care. She would call him whatever he wanted. Do whatever he said. Just as long as he touched her, now. “Please, touch me. Please…Sir?”
“Hold still,” he ordered.
Sally took in a deep breath.
Derek flipped her around and bent her over a nearby bench. In one fluid motion, he had his pants pulled down. She sighed as he buried himself deep inside of her, then he pressed her clit with his thumb. She arched against him, pushing her ass against his groin.
He played with her then, moving at his pace and not hers. He slid in and out while his thumb circled her clit, flicking it with painful stabbing sensations that made her buck and writhe beneath him. Her climax built and a moment before she came he pulled out of her. Her orgasm, which had been right on the edge, fizzled and popped. She growled at him, and he returned an answering chuckle.
“Greedy girls get nothing from their masters. You need to learn patience, and that pleasure is given when I choose, not when you demand. Hold still and behave.”
Sally relaxed the tension in her body. Blood pounded in her ears. Her clit throbbed with pleasure one stroke short of orgasmic release.
He slid his hand over her clit, filling it with his warmth, then pressed his fingers over the sensitive nub, fueling her passion, bringing her back up the cliff of desire. He slammed three fingers into her pussy and pounded at her flesh. She fought her orgasm waiting for some sign from him that it was okay to come. Whatever she did, she would behave, anything to make sure he didn’t stop again. Then he pinched her clit and held it tight.
Derek leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “Come now, beautiful. Come for the man who will own you and possess you. Come for me!”
His command pushed her over the edge and into oblivion. Her vision splintered and fractured until she lost herself in rolling waves of liquid pleasure. White-hot flashes flickered along her nerves, starting at her pelvis and shooting out to her fingers, her toes, and to the top of her head. Her muscles contracted so strongly she felt like she would cramp from the pleasure. The feeling rippled through her over and over again as she cried and sobbed and begged to be his.
He didn’t stop touching her as she came down from the indescribable high. He stroked her clit. Pumped his fingers in and out of her pussy. Each movement sent her up and over the edge in a never-ending cycle. She climaxed over and over as he sent her from one orgasm to the next until she begged him to stop. Then he withdrew his fingers and gave her his cock, thrusting deep inside of her. He forced one final orgasm on her, making her ride the wave of pleasure as her hips bucked beneath him. All sense of decorum vanished. He laid her bare before him, stripped her of all her dignity, all her modesty, until she had no secrets left.
She drifted then, finding herself curled up in his lap without any sense of how she’d gone from the bench to the couch. With her head against his broad chest, she traced the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He wrapped her in the cocoon of his arms and held her while she shook, holding her close until she returned to herself.
“What—how—oh my god, Derek…um, Sir?” She couldn’t even piece together a coherent thought.
“Shh,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Rest, we’re in no rush.”
Derek adjusted her in his lap, seeking a more comfortable position. He was still hard, or hard again. His erection pressed painfully into her flesh. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair with his broad hands.
Then, he murmured softly, “This is only a taste of what this can be like, beautiful. It’s only the tip of the iceberg. Holding you in my arms and giving you pleasure are actions which fulfill me.”
She opened an eye to peek at him through her lashes. “And the spankings?”
He groaned as he shifted his bulging cock from under her ass. “To spank you is to dominate. It’s a rush, and for me, it allows me to unleash the beast within. But, I like pain with my sex as well, and we’ll explore that, too.”
“On the cross?”
“Eventually, but there’s an endless variety of play. I plan to introduce you to it all.”
“Your experience is much different from mine. My feminist father is going to roll over in his grave to hear me admit this, but I’m beginning to see things your way. You’re on top, and I’m not.”
He groaned. “My cock needs your attention. On your knees.”
Derek tilted his head back as she leaned in and closed her mouth around his cock. She remembered everything he told her, teasing and tantalizing him with her mouth. She cupped his balls in her hand and squeezed lightly as she played. Suddenly, he sat up straight and wrapped his hands in her hair.
She gulped, knowing what was coming. He yanked her down hard on his cock, burying her face up to his groin, held her there a moment, and then pulled her off, only to repeat the process. He started slow as he took over control. When he picked up the pace, vigorously fucking her, Sally gasped in breaths when she could. She focused on holding her lips a certain way and keeping her teeth from scraping on his sensitive skin. Like a man possessed, Derek turned her into an object with only one use in mind. He fucked her until he spewed his salty cum down her throat.
He sucked in irregular breaths. “Now that is what a good sub is made of.”
She started to stand, but he gripped her hair, holding her in place. “No, stay at my feet for a while. Experience what it feels to be submissive. This is where you belong unless I tell you specifically to take a seat next to me. Otherwise, know your place.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pulled her to him. “I want to own you and make you mine, put you at my feet, and keep you where you belong, but you have yet to truly experience losing control. That’s very difficult and will be your next big leap of faith.”
“Is that what we’re becoming then? Moving from Dom and sub to Master and slave?” That thought had her pressing her legs together, trying to soothe an insatiable ache.
“Slave-hood is not entered on a whim. It takes a great deal of thought. You should talk to Ellen and Justine to get a slave’s perspective. Ellen’s been Warren’s slave for almost a decade, and Justine is about a hair’s breath away from allowing Karl to place his collar around her neck.”
“Then let me speak to them,” she begged. “Let me ask the questions, so we can decide if this is what we want.”
“How about we see if they are close to finishing up?”
Truths
Sally listened to the noises from the dungeon, deep soulful sounds of pleasure. Indeed, both couples seemed to be finishing up. Ellen’s moans intensified as if she was on the brink of orgasm. Justine’s cry of pleasure filled the dungeon, a long keening wail. Derek guided Sally back to the bar, where he placed her on a stool and went behind the bar to pour a glass of wine for her and a draft for him.
He came around from behind the bar and extended a hand, indicating she should follow, then guided her over to the grouping of couches he’d called the submissives’ lounge. “Take a seat
, enjoy your wine. I’ll have Warren and Karl send Ellen and Justine over. I think it’s time.”
“Time?”
“Ask Ellen about how she became a slave. I want to discuss what that means for us, but I want you to hear her story first.”
When he pivoted to head back to the bar, she asked, “Aren’t you going to sit with me?”
“Doms and Masters aren’t allowed over there. Safe-haven. Remember?”
Indeed, she remembered him mentioning how it was a safe zone. Nevertheless, she didn’t enjoy sitting alone, not when Derek returned to the bar and took a swig of his beer mug. He pulled out his cellphone and busied himself, leaving her with her thoughts.
Fortunately, Ellen and Justine joined her after a few minutes. A white fluffy robe wrapped around each of them. It was strange having the men, all dressed, gathered at the bar and the women, all naked, lounging on the couches, but there was also a sense of sisterhood knowing the men weren’t allowed to intrude.
“I’ve been given marching orders,” Ellen said with a dramatic eye-roll. “These men can get growly when they’re feeling bossy.”
Justine tucked her legs beneath her and draped her arms across the back of the couch. Her robe gaped open, and she didn’t even try to hide her nakedness. “Marching orders?”
“I’ve been instructed to tell Sally about my enslavement,” Ellen said.
“Ah!” Justine looked more than a little interested.
Sally glanced at Derek, startled to find him staring, eyes pinched, and his expression a little worried.
“Before you begin…” She turned her attention to Justine and the butterflies curving around from her back to perch on the curve of her hip. “I still can’t wrap my mind around how realistic that looks. I’ve seen tons of tattoos, but those are simply exquisite.”
“I know,” she said, twisting her torso for Sally to get a better look. “Expensive as hell, too, but it was something I always wanted, and Karl likes to indulge me.”
“She’s a very lucky woman,” Ellen added. “And spoiled rotten.”
“I am not spoiled!”
“Uh-huh.” Ellen flicked her gaze to the dark ceiling, then dragged it down and towards the bar. “When’s he going to ask?”
Justine frowned. “Soon I hope. He says I’m not ready, but damn if I’m not.”
“Speaking of…” Ellen guided the conversation back to Sally. “You said two things?”
“Yeah, sorry. I guess I’ve been a bit obsessed with 3D tattoos lately.”
“Hun,” Ellen said, “I’m not sure how long those men will leave us alone. While they might have to recharge a bit, their fingers and decadent mouths don’t. I can see Warren giving me the eye as we speak.”
“Well, you already know. Derek wants you to tell me the story of how you became Warren’s slave.”
“I’m surprised you’re talking about moving to M/s.” Ellen’s eyebrows arched.
“Why?”
“Well, first off, it’s way too fast. And second, I’m surprised he’d want to after Ni—oh, I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about that.”
“If you mean Nikki, he told me about her.”
“I’m surprised, but then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be. You seem to have caught his attention. Did he really ask you to be his slave?” Ellen leaned forward, seeming at once intrigued and a little skeptical.
She answered honestly. “We’ve talked about it. More than talked about. I guess, I’m the one who’s brought it up, but he’s definitely interested. He said I had to talk with you first.” She looked at Ellen, wondering what the wild red-head with curls could possibly add to her decision to give herself to Derek. In her mind, it was a foregone conclusion.
“Well, it’s not a pretty story.” She glanced at Warren with a look of adoration fluttering across her features.
Ellen sucked in a breath and blew it out with hesitation. “We’d been married for years, but the lifestyle was new to us, or rather, to me. I think, looking back, Warren always knew what he wanted. He liked rough sex, bossing me around, but I’d always bucked against his authority. It nearly ended our marriage. I thought he was a domineering ass in fact. There were times where I truly hated him. He brought the lifestyle to me, proclaimed himself Master, and I promptly served him divorce papers.”
“You’re kidding,” Sally said. “You did?”
“I did. But I couldn’t help but feel a pull of sorts. I love Warren, always have, but we grew tired of one another, complacent. Sex was dry and obligatory. It lacked a sense of belonging…more something we did because we had to, rather than something we did because we wanted to.”
“Wow,” Sally said, realizing she and Thomas had reached that same level of monotony in their relationship. His illness had derailed their sexual life, but if she thought about it, they’d lost that spark years before.
Ellen continued, “I approached our sex life as an obligation. For me, it was enough. I enjoyed sex. I think he did, too, but it became clear he wanted more. It wasn’t until after I had the collar around my neck that I realized my mistake.”
“I didn’t know that,” Justine said with surprise. “I thought you’d always been Master and slave. What happened?”
“Well, Warren took me to our dungeon, locked the door, told me what he wanted. He proceeded to demonstrate it quite convincingly.”
“What do you mean?” Sally asked.
“We’d been toying with BDSM for months. Pushing limits. Having fun. We really had kind of a Renaissance as far as our sex life was concerned. It wasn’t until the day he took away my safe word that I realized the game had changed. Let’s just say all the begging and pleading in the world didn’t stop his hand, or his whip, or the cane, or any number of other nasty things he did to me.”
Ellen let out a wistful sigh. “He built a dungeon. Something I thought was over the top extravagant. We have a rich life. I’m used to over the top gestures. It meant nothing to me, but I was very wrong. That day, when he took me down there, my entire world changed.”
“How?” Justine scooted to the edge of the couch, entranced by Ellen’s story.
“He kept me down there for over a week,” Ellen said, “locking me in. He chained me to a wall, fucked me, beat me, and when he had to leave, he thrust me in a cage. He was ruthless and uncompromising. I hated him. I called him all sorts of nasty names. I threatened to leave him, even to turn him into the cops. He responded to each of my threats with the force of his uncompromising discipline. I was punished for each and every foul word I tossed at him.”
“You’re kidding,” Sally said. “Why would he be so cruel?”
“Because he knew.” She left that explanation unfinished, allowing Sally to draw her own conclusions, then continued with her tale. “By the fifth day, I was in pretty rough shape. That’s when it began to dawn on me how serious he was about being in control. It wasn’t a game for him. He believed he had the right to rule me and told me I’d given away my freedom when I accepted his collar. He said he was keeping me locked up for as long as it took to accept my slavery. He tied me up and fucked me to prove to me he could. I fought him, bit him, scratched him, and he took it, punishing me for it all afterward. But he fucked me whenever he wanted. He didn’t use my mouth, I think he was afraid I’d bite him, but my pussy and ass were well used.”
“He raped you?” Sally sat back, aghast at the brutality.
“No,” she said. “He loved me and was strong enough to show me the path I needed to follow.” Ellen took in a deep breath. “I know it sounds horrible, what Warren did, but it was necessary. It’s hard to explain, but I think I was waiting for him to make his move. I couldn’t submit in a vacuum. I needed him to take my freedom by force. I think we all struggle with this on some level, but for me, it was like my soul was being ripped out. Please don’t think what Warren did was wrong. He knew what I needed before I knew it myself, but I wasn’t able to accept it, and I certainly didn’t believe he might be right. I fought for my soul i
n that dungeon, and I came out a changed woman.”
“What happened on the fifth day?” Sally asked with hesitation. In fact, she was scared to find out.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. The more I begged and pleaded for him to stop, the more he tormented me. I had an epiphany of sorts, and I finally gave in. I knew I couldn’t win. He put me in a cage overnight, I hated that thing, still do, but when he came in the next morning, I crawled to his feet. He’d broken me. On the sixth day, he whipped me the worst. I thought I would die, but not once did I beg him to stop. He gave me ample opportunity, but I knew, or rather, I finally understood he would stop when he decided not when I asked. Looking back on it, that was exactly what I needed to accept my enslavement. I needed to believe he would be uncompromising and absolute. He needed to be strong so that I could be weak. Ultimately, he mastered me.”
“You said he kept you there for a week?” Sally said. “What happened afterward?”
“It was more than a week,” Ellen said with a wistful sigh. “And that was another epiphany for me.”
“How so?”
“Well, on the sixth day, I was whipped and caned. He bound me and fucked me several times. I cried the entire time, but never once asked him to stop. I’d learned there was no utility in asking. On the seventh day, he opened the dungeon and left the door ajar. He told me I had a choice. I could leave, give him back my collar, and my wedding ring. He would sign the divorce papers on the condition I never see him again. Or, I could stay. If I stayed, it was knowing that the seventh day would be twice as bad as the sixth. He wouldn’t fuck me but demanded he come the exact same number of times he had on the sixth day, plus one. I would have to use my body to get him off, and I would have to do so willingly, begging him each time to give him pleasure after he beat me. He removed my collar and hung it on the door knob. He told me again that I was free to leave. If I stayed, I would have to earn his collar, since I obviously didn’t earn it the first time.”
Becoming His, Learning to Breathe: Part Two - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 8 Page 20