PleaseSir

by Sindra vin Yssel

  Tom leaned back, and then got to his feet. Normally she liked the fact that he was tall. Now it seemed to place his tongue that much farther away from where she wanted it.

  “Please, Sir?” she asked Tom. She bit her lip.

  “He’s right,” said Tom. “You specifically said no begging. And it’s our job here on Submission Island to make sure you get what you signed up for.”

  She struggled to think past her sexual need. “But—”

  “When a sub misbehaves, she needs to be punished.” Roger opened the chest and took out a riding crop. It had a silver handle, and black leather was wound along its length. The flap at the end was narrow. He held it in his right hand and took a step forward.

  “But I didn’t violate your rule,” she protested. “That was my rule.”

  “Quite true,” said Roger. “Personally, I don’t mind a little begging. Tom?”

  “Not at all,” said Tom, grinning.

  “But a good Dom always respects a sub’s limits.”

  “No,” she said. She could feel the crop in her head already. Tied the way she was, it wouldn’t be used against her back or her bottom. Would he strike her breasts? God, that would hurt. If it was Tom, she’d trust him, but she feared Roger had more of a sadistic streak. Pomegranate. Freeze. She wondered which she should say.

  “I’ll do it,” said Tom, holding out his hand for the crop.

  “You’ll go easy on her,” said Roger. “Better for me to. She’ll learn her lesson faster. Also, she won’t enjoy it if it’s from me.”

  Darn straight. Would she enjoy it if Tom did it? She didn’t think that was very likely, but it could happen. She’d gotten pleasure from other things he’d done when she hadn’t thought it possible.

  For a moment, she though Tom was going to step aside. Roger did too, apparently, as he stepped forward.

  She made her decision. It was Roger she needed to stop. “Pom—”

  Tom grabbed Roger’s hand, the one that held the crop. He moved to stand between Roger and her. “She’s mine. I know what you’re doing, Roger.”

  “What am I doing?” Roger’s eyes went wide with exaggerated innocence.

  “You’re trying to goad me. It’s working. Give me the crop and go back to the house. I’ll take care of things from here.”

  Roger grinned. He pushed the crop into Tom’s hand, and then stepped to the side where he could get a clear look at Julia.

  “Be a good girl,” he said to her and then walked out.

  Chapter Six

  Tom turned to her. “Do you need to be punished?” He pointed the crop toward her, the flap on the end inches from her chest.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry for begging. Please don’t—”

  His chuckle interrupted her.

  She blushed. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”

  “You were.” He moved his wrist slightly. The tip of the crop flicked across her right nipple, but there was no real force behind it. It didn’t hurt, but if it felt that way with a twist of the wrist, she could only imagine how it would feel if he swung it hard.

  She closed her mouth before she could do it again. He trailed the crop upward, along her neck, until it rubbed against her pursed lips. She kissed it, thinking that perhaps that was what he wanted her to do.

  Tom smiled. “Just open your mouth, love. Don’t shut down. Talk to me.”

  She exhaled. “Yes Sir.”

  “Maybe instead of stopping, you need to come to terms with it. Begging can be a sign of weakness, and I understand that. An acknowledgement that you are powerless and can’t make a demand. But the whole point of submission is to find someone to exchange power with. Someone with whom it’s okay to be powerless; someone you don’t need to make demands from. Someone who will look after you even if you have no leverage over them at all. Is that what you want, Kelly?”

  “Yes.” What he described sounded incredibly freeing.

  “You couldn’t beg from Roger, could you? You could tell him no. You could use your safe word. But ‘please, Sir’—you’ve said ‘please’ several times to me, but never once to avoid him, even when he picked up the crop. Not when he had you on the cross either.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He told me. Am I right?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  He lowered the crop to her breasts again and circled each nipple with the tip. “A good Dom does respect his sub’s limits. Especially when it’s written in big bold letters. But every instinct I have says that this one needs to be pushed, because you need to know I’m safe to let yourself go with. So I’m going to push it, unless you say your safe word.”

  Freeze. Please. They were such similar-sounding words. She suddenly thought that was amusing.

  “What’s funny, love?”

  “Nothing really. The, um, frozen word. It sounds like please. Are you sure you’d be able to tell the difference?”

  “Yes. But, let’s use the simplest safe word of all, just this once. Stop. If you say stop, I’ll stop. If you say please—well, I might continue.”

  “Might?” That didn’t seem fair.

  “Once I decide you don’t need any more practice.”

  He flicked his wrist and the crop responded. The flap clipped her nipple, stinging it. She jerked away. But the sting faded quickly to pleasure. She straightened again, pushing her chest out for more.

  “That’s lovely. You know how to beg with more than words, don’t you?”

  She blushed.

  He flicked the crop again on the other peak. Again, it stung, but this time she didn’t draw back at all. Even the sting felt good now that she was ready for it, sending sparks of pleasure downward.

  They lapsed into silence, the only sound being their breathing and the sound of leather hitting flesh. He allowed only the flap of the leather to strike her and paused between each flick of his wrist to let her take all the pleasure she could from each stroke. He never pulled his arm back or put any extra force into it. She met his gaze. It was so intense. He was watching every reaction, she realized. Such scrutiny would usually make her squirm. Right now it made her feel safe.

  He trailed the crop down her body. She shuddered. She didn’t think her clit could take the fierce attention he’d been giving her nipples. “Please, Sir.”

  He smiled. “Music to my ears, Julia. Please what?”

  She didn’t think he’d ever used her first name before. She wondered what it meant now. Was he using it to reward her? It encouraged her. “I don’t think I can take the crop, um, down there.”

  “I think I know very well what you can take where, little sub,” said Tom. “And I will take care of you. Even ‘down there’. That is, however, the last time you can get by with using that phrase.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  He moved forward, angling the crop so that it nested between the lips of her pussy.

  “Can you take this, Julia?” he asked.

  There he went with her name again. It felt so good to hear him say it. “Yes Sir.”

  “Where is it?”

  “My, um, my pussy?”

  “Good girl. Although I assure you that it’s very much my pussy at the moment.” He moved his hand lower and pushed the crop into her an inch. She gasped. It wasn’t filling but it still hit some powerful nerves and made her want more.

  “Your cock would feel better,” she said.

  “I know that. But that’s not how I want you to ask.”

  “Please fuck me, Sir?” She grinned at him.

  “Not yet.”

  “But I said please!”

  “And it’s lovely. But it’s not the magic way to get your way, no matter how much I love hearing it. You need more practice.”

  “Please, Sir, would you fuck me hard and deep with your big, thick cock?”

  “Oh, that’s beautiful.” He slid the crop back.

  I’m going to get fucked now.

  But instead he lifted the crop slightly until the flap tickled her
clit. He moved it gently. Up, down and then in circles, building the pressure inside her core again. She resisted the pleasure, having been brought to the edge twice already and not trusting him to give her release this time. He shifted the crop so that the hard but flexible shaft pushed against the leather flap that teased her, changing it from a tickle to a rub, from a light touch to pressure, and her body responded despite her distrust. She squirmed against her bonds, trying to press herself into the crop.

  “More,” she asked.

  “More, what?”

  She knew what he wanted. “More please, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” But rather than pushing the crop against her harder, he withdrew it and tossed it toward the open chest from where it came.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, frowning.

  “Shh. The only words I want to hear from you are ‘please’ and ‘Sir’. Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded.

  He crouched down and pulled out his knife again. Her eyes widened. She steeled herself to trust him. The knife was less daunting now than it had been before. He cut the bonds that held her legs.

  “Keep them open, Julia.” He put the knife away again. She did her best to obey. He stood, and she wondered what would happen next.

  He unzipped his pants. His cock sprang forth, hard and magnificent. She wanted to lean forward and suck the purple head, but her wrists were still bound to the back of the chair. He knelt, moved between her legs and pushed forward, thrusting into her pussy. Even better. He stretched and filled her. And then, buried fully, he stopped. He met her gaze. He was waiting for something.

  It took her a moment. “Please, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He put his hands on her hips and moved, thrusting in and out of her, bringing her ever back to the brink of orgasm. Every time he thrust she could feel the invader in her ass even more intensely, reminding her for a moment of the time with Roger. But this was better. She could focus on just one man. He let go of one hip and put his thumb on her clit, right where she wanted it most. Yes.

  Then he stopped again.

  “Please, Sir,” she said softly, wondering why she had ever found the words difficult. It was a small exchange for the pleasure he offered.

  He grinned, but said nothing in response. He didn’t have to. His body did the talking instead. His cock pistoned in and out of her, each thrust making her pussy clench. His thumb pressed down on her clit and rubbed in delicious circles. The dildo in her ass overloaded her nerves even more. The pressure in her core started to uncoil, unstoppable now no matter what he did or didn’t do.

  “Please, Sir!” she yelled.

  “Now,” he ordered

  She came, the pleasure running over her relentlessly, making her legs jerk forward and wrap around his ass. A scream was torn out of her. Her arms spasmed in their bonds. Her pussy pulsed around his cock even as she clenched around the dildo. All the tension streamed out of her and her head buzzed with the pleasure. She felt lightheaded, fuzzy and yet somehow unnaturally clear at the same time.

  She expected him to join her, even though he’d been inside her for only a few short moments. The pleasure rippling through her felt as if it had to overcome them both. But he was slowing down rather than speeding up. His eyes scrunched up for a moment, as if it took a force of will not to keep going.

  “Please, Sir, come with me.” It was more than the words he’d allowed her, but she wanted to be clear what she wanted.

  He grinned. He grabbed the sides of the chair and pushed himself forward, his body extending out of his kneeling position, the chair tilting backward. He rocked her in time with his thrusts, tilting her back and forth on the back legs, which moved the dildo in her ass in counterpoint. His breathing sped up but fell out of rhythm. His eyes widened. Then his whole body tensed and his cock pulsed, hot liquid jetting deep inside her. She squeezed him with her pussy and pulled him in with her legs, willing him to empty himself inside her.

  Spent at last, he returned the chair to its upright position. Then he leaned forward.

  Tom had never wanted to kiss a woman as much as he wanted to kiss Julia right then. He pressed his lips against hers, invading her mouth with his tongue. She fought back, her tongue wrestling with his before inevitably yielding. Tied up, helpless, her clothes ripped and cut—she was beautiful. Every time she said please, it made his heart melt. Hell, even Sir sounded sexier from her than it ever had from anyone else.

  For some women pleading was a game, a natural way to wheedle and get their way. But Julia wasn’t a “natural” submissive in that sense. She couldn’t say please without blushing and feeling slightly embarrassed. But clearly she couldn’t not say it either. It was part of her, even if it was a part she fought against.

  He tried to look deep into her eyes but they were closed. Had he pushed her too far? Usually when a submissive woman said she didn’t want to do something, he found other things to do. The number of things a man could do with a woman was boundless. There was always some common ground. But something about what Kelly had written had struck him as not quite right. He understood her fear of being completely helpless, out of control—the sort of deeply submissive experience begging implied. But then she wanted a kidnap scene—an intense scene where a bottom gave up all control except her safe word. It didn’t match. Roger the shrink agreed. “You’re probably right,” he’d said. Probably.

  If it had been any other sub on vacation to Submission Island, he would have let it go rather than risk it. But he knew Julia. When she’d said please in her apartment that night, he‘d seen something unwind in her, as if she’d laid down a heavy burden. For whatever reason, she’d decided to pick it up again. He wanted to show her she didn’t have to. He’d pushed. She’d yielded. Now the only question was whether she was going to forgive him for it.

  He let her catch her breath. He hadn’t realized until now, when he was unable to meet her gaze through her closed lids, how much she meant to him. Being a Dom never meant that the women he played with always agreed with his decisions. Even though he made the best decisions he could, sometimes they decided they’d rather not play with him again. It had never stopped him from doing the best he could for a sub. There were other Doms for them, and other women for him. But he knew at that moment there would never be another woman for him like Julia Kelly.

  Her eyes opened and she smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He let half the breath he’d been holding go. “You’re welcome. And you may use whatever words you wish now.”

  “Thank you, kind Sir.” Her voice was a strange mixture of sincere and ironic he couldn’t decipher. She closed her eyes again and inhaled. Then she let it go, slowly, her eyes opening. He put his hand on her chest and felt her heartbeat, strong and steady.

  “What are you doing?” She looked down at his hand, amused.

  “Feeling your heart.”

  “Oh. Is it still working, after all that?”

  “Seems to be.”

  “That’s a relief, then.”

  He chuckled and drew back his hand. Yeah, he definitely liked seeing her tied up. He stood up, straightened his pants. She watched him.

  “Please don’t go, Sir,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, Kelly. I’m not going anywhere.” He moved behind her and untied her hands, checking to make sure they hadn’t cooled while she was bound. As pretty as she was in bondage, holding one position produced strains that moved from erotic to unpleasant over time. Some subs learned to embrace that discomfort, but it usually took experience to get there. He wondered if he’d get to provide Julia with that experience. He hoped so.

  He brought her hands forward, then moved to stand in front of her again. He massaged her fingers, then her hands, then her arms. She smiled at him.

  “It’s almost as if you’re serving me, instead of me you,” she said.

  “You’re very precious to me.”

  “Aww. Still. Isn’t this where I thank you properly?”

>   “Someone’s been reading books. And what would that thank-you consist of?”

  “I have been reading books. I think a blowjob is traditional. Better than kissing your feet, for sure. I don’t think I’m built to be a foot kisser.”

  “May I take a rain check? This, actually, is where we talk.” He let go of her hands and walked over to the chest, pulling out two heavy blankets. He set them down near the chair, then picked her up, lifting her off the dildo. With a jerk of his hand he detached the dildo from the chair and tossed it aside to clean up later. He sat back down, cradling her in his lap, and pulled one of the blankets over her.

  “I’m not cold,” she said.

  “I’m not going to let you become cold either. People cool down after sex. You’re not wearing anything. And I have nothing for you to wear.”

  “Would you let me, if you did?”

  “No. Not when I have blankets.”

  She giggled. “Didn’t think so.” She snuggled up. “So what do we talk about?”

  “Tomorrow another girl is coming to Submission Island. She signed up a long time ago and had to delay her trip. Her name is Megan.”

  “Oh.” The light went out of Julia’s eyes, and Tom instantly regretted the way he’d approached it.

  “Roger can take care of her. Or we can switch off, if you wish.”

  Her face went blank, unreadable. That’s what I get for dating a cop. “What do you want?” she asked.

  Here goes nothing. “I want to have you in my bed every single night you’re here. I want to make you scream. I want to make you beg. I want to turn your bottom red until it hurts to sit down. I want to have you all to myself.”

  “And? Do you want her too?”

  Tom shrugged. “I hope Roger can keep her occupied.”

  “What if she has a fantasy involving two men, like I did?”

  “She doesn’t. I’ve seen her application. And anyway, we don’t promise to fulfill every fantasy.” He moved his finger idly along the back of her hand. For a woman, she had big hands. Strong. If they hadn’t taken her completely by surprise at the pool, someone could have gotten hurt.