He raised his head to look at me. He hesitated.
“Come on, Dylan,” I teased, drunk on the power I had over him. “You’ll be glad you did.”
“Beg?” he questioned, as if I’d asked him for the moon.
“Yes, beg. Beg me, and I’ll do it,” I encouraged. “Say it.”
His lips moved, but the words didn’t come. Then they came out in a flood. “Please. Please suck my cock.”
“Good,” I said, “but not quite good enough. I didn’t hear the word ‘beg’.”
He grumbled and squirmed. His arms pulled against the restraints. The Dom in him wouldn’t let go. He needed to tap into the submissive side of his personality. He had to learn to surrender.
“Unless you try a little harder to obey your Mistress, these lips won’t go anywhere near your cock.”
“I-please-I mean….”
“Maybe I should make you watch me come all over again,” I goaded. “Should I? This time you’re tied up, so you can’t touch yourself even if you try.”
“No! I’m begging you, Mistress.” His hips bucked. “Please. I’m begging you. Please suck my cock!”
The urgency in his voice thrilled me. “Very good, Dylan.” I licked his erection all the way to the head and pressed down with the flat of my tongue, tasting the salty, glistening drops emerging from the small slit. Keeping my lips over my teeth, I took him as deep as I could. In this position, deep throating was difficult. But not impossible. Dylan had patiently trained me for months, until I could take every inch of him in my mouth. Angling his erection toward me, I went deeper, deeper, all the way in, past my gag reflex, until my lips brushed his pubic hair.
“Fuck, yeah, baby! All the way!”
I pulled back, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, teasing the frenulum. As I took all of him in again, I rubbed his balls with my fingertips. After a while my jaw started to ache, and I came up for air. Using my hands in long, rhythmic strokes, I kept an eye on Dylan’s facial features, gauging how close he was to orgasm. I didn’t want him to come. Not yet. I had to take ownership of his pleasure for a change and decide when he was permitted to have an orgasm. When he seemed ready to explode, his face contorting, his breaths quick and sharp, I stopped.
“Keep going! Don’t stop!” he called out.
“Not yet,” I whispered. “You don’t get to decide when you come. I do.”
Time to move on to the next phase, the one involving the butt plug. Anal penetration could be wonderful. It was up to me to teach him just how wonderful. My previous partner, less controlling than Dylan, asked me to do this for him on a regular basis, so I knew how to proceed to maximize Dylan’s pleasure. I put on a surgical glove, which snapped against my wrist.
“What’s that?” He sounded worried, and deep frown lines appeared between his brows. “Why do you need a glove?”
“To pleasure you.” I poured some lube on my fingers. Holding his balls out of the way with my left hand, I swirled my right index finger around his puckered hole.
“Bethany, it’s a no-go zone.” His voice sounded strained. “You know that.”
He attempted to turn over, but the restraints held firm. When he clamped his knees shut, all he managed to do was squeeze me firmly between them. I still had full access to his ass.
“No fucking way,” he said sternly, his erection wilting. “Forbidden zone.”
“Relax,” I breathed. “Let me guide you. Trust me.”
How many times had he said those same words to me? Whenever we tried something different, I hesitated. Nipple clamps. Ring gags. Clothespins. Every new adventure began with a healthy dose of hesitation on my part. In everyday life, I wasn’t a fearless go-getter. I was the one who waited in the shadows and needed to be led into the light.
“As your Mistress, I’m asking you to give me permission to try. I’m asking you to trust me the way I’ve always trusted you.”
His vise-like grip on my body relaxed. I held up the butt plug, one of the smaller silicone ones with a ring at the end where I could insert my finger. Barely three-inches long. Perfect for training purposes. He’d used it on me on countless occasions. “Remember this?”
“Your first butt plug.”
“Now it’s going to be yours.”
He exhaled loudly through his mouth. “No.”
“Let me start with a finger. Just a finger.” I never really expected him to agree to the butt plug. If he dismissed the plug, he might accept a finger. He used the same technique on me all the time. First he showed me the huge dildo, knowing I’d automatically say no, and then he showed me a less intimidating size, which I was far more likely to agree to. You taught me well, Master.
“A finger,” I repeated. “If you don’t like it, we’ll never try it again.”
His butt cheeks clenched tight.
“Trust me. Submit to me. Completely,” I whispered. “You’ve never led me astray, never pushed me too far. Surrender to me.” The words flowed out of me, as sweet as honey, because I’d heard them so often in the past.
He nodded. “All right. Only a finger.”
After applying extra lube to the glove, I gently probed his anus, massaging its outer rim, and penetrating one unhurried inch at a time. When his sphincter relaxed, I pushed deeper, locating the slight bulge that was his prostate. He didn’t know it yet, but when I started to rub, he’d go wild with pleasure, and if I sucked him at the same time, well, that would double the intensity of his orgasm.
I looked at his face. His features relaxed. He closed his eyes, and he seemed to be enjoying my probing finger.
“How does it feel?” I asked.
“Good.” He didn’t say anything else.
Carefully, I inserted a second finger, finding the walnut-shaped gland and stroking in a regular rhythm. His erection returned to life, and I smiled, watching his cock lengthen and harden. Soon, I’d take him in my mouth again.
Dylan inhaled sharply. “Ahhhhh. Real good. Right there.”
“Like this?” I massaged the same spot, switching to circular motions.
“Ahhhh. Yes, Mistress.” He closed his eyes. The muscles in his thighs tensed. “Fucking fantastic. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
Just as I predicted, he was so into this. Pleasing him gave me a thrill like nothing else. “How about another blowjob, Dylan?”
“I’ll never say no to a blowjob, Mistress.”
I devoured him whole, taking him to the back of my throat, sucking faster and harder. When he moaned uncontrollably, I slowed to prolong his enjoyment. My fingers kept pace with my mouth, and I stroked in and out, focusing on the small gland.
Tonight, I decided when he had an orgasm. Not him. Me. Mistress Bethany.
I made him wait. And wait.
My tongue teased his cock, flattening against the head. Two fingers probed deep into his ass.
Now.
I raised my head and stared into his eyes. “You can come now.”
I took him deep, hollowing my cheeks and continuing to suck. He was close. So close. His hips thrust forward, and hot cum streamed to the back of my throat. Greedily, I swallowed. More liquid spurted on my tongue. Shudders spread through Dylan’s body, and when he finally lay still, I gave his cock one final lick and let it rest against his thigh. I slipped my fingers out of his ass and removed the glove.
His expression? Pure bliss.
Insanely happy with myself, I unfastened the Velcro straps—striiiip, striiiiip, striiip—and lay on top of him, tired, worn out from the mental stress of it all. Being a Domme was a lot tougher than being a sub. There were so many decisions to make, and so much to plan. Although I hadn’t planned nearly enough, things turned out okay. Hell, a lot better than okay.
“Did you like it?” I asked, snuggling into his chest, already knowing the answer.
“God, yes.” He hugged me, running his hands over my back and ass. “Mind-blowing. Amazing. Best orgasm ever. Even better than the time I fucked you in the guest room
at my boss’ house.”
I remembered, all right. Halloween, when I wore my Goth-girl outfit with the spiked collar and Master wore a vampire’s cape. The risk of discovery excited me. Guests chatted outside in the hall while I lay spread-eagled on the bed, Master banging away at my pussy, my black thong hanging from the doorknob.
“Would you be willing to try again?” I raised my head and gazed into his eyes.
“With your fingers inside me, absolutely.” His brown eyes narrowed. “You tried to scare me with the butt plug, didn’t you, you naughty girl?”
“It worked.” I giggled, comforted by his touch. “Consider yourself lucky I don’t have a strap-on harness.”
“Whoa, now that I’ve given you a taste of this, there’s no going back, is there?”
Was there? Did I want to switch with him more often? I’d tapped into a part of myself I didn’t know existed. “Why did you ask me to do this? You knew the idea would scare me.”
“My job is part of it. I’m exhausted. I wanted to let someone else make the decisions for a change.” He kissed the top of my head, worked the hairband out of my ponytail, and ran his fingers through the cascade of curls. “But this evening was mostly about your reaction to Lady Pearl the last time we went to the club.”
“Lady Pearl.” It took a while for me to process why she had such a mesmerizing effect on me. She was a female version of my Master. He cared for me the same way she did for her sub. I loved watching their dynamic, his gift of submission to her. They seemed to complement each other perfectly. And they loved each other, the same way Master and I did.
“I wanted to give you the chance to spread your wings a little.” He closed his fist around my hair and gave it a long slow pull.
Exquisite. All my nerve endings tingled.
“You’re so shy and reserved, I didn’t think you’d do it unless I made it mandatory,” he said.
“I enjoyed it. Except when you acted like a brat!” I laughed, and Master did too. “Thank you for giving yourself to me this way.”
“I thought I’d be tolerating this to please you,” he said, stroking my shoulders, “but I think I need to have more regular sessions with Mistress Bethany.”
“You do?” Wow, what a surprise. He always said he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body. He was pure Dom.
“Not too often,” he said sternly. “Every now and then.”
“I can’t believe I got you to beg.” My crowning achievement.
“Me either,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “At first the word wouldn’t come out. I had this weird mental block.” He tapped his temple.
“Because it meant I had full control over you.” I’d experienced similar blocks on several occasions whenever we tried something new. There was an overwhelming feeling of hesitation, of I can’t do it. “Like the first time you wanted to tie me to the spanking bench. I had this mental shutdown. I refused.”
“It took a long time to convince you of the joys of the spanking bench.”
I remembered. “Yes, and once I agreed, I felt free, unburdened. All I had to do was experience the pleasure.”
“Exactly! When the word ‘beg’ finally came out, I was free.” He remained quiet, as if processing the information. “I think tonight’s experience as your sub will make me a more understanding Dom.”
Absolutely. “I love you, Master.”
“I love you too, Bethany. I always will.”
Master kissed my forehead, and I rested my cheek against his chest.
“As much as I enjoyed meeting Mistress Bethany this evening, I want my sub back. There’s a butt plug that never saw any action tonight.” He picked up the plug and held it in front of me. “The restraints are in place. Is your sexy ass ready?”
“Oh yes.” Shivers of delight danced over my skin.
“Get the suede flogger,” he said, “and we’ll get started.”
“Yes, Master.” I scampered off to his toybox, eager for the ecstasy to begin.
About Helena Harker
Helena Harker is a teacher by day, writer by night, a daydreamer who loves to escape to other worlds. Her fiction is populated by strong men, passionate women and lots of paranormal creatures. In her free time she enjoys photography and curling up with a good book. She is multi-published and also writes in other genres.
Helena welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Master’s Submission
ISBN 9781419943232
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Master’s Submission Copyright © 2012 Helena Harker
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Syneca
Photo: RomanceNovelCovers.com
Electronic book publication November 2012
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