Subfrenzy (the Subfrenzied Series)

by Jane, Kimberlee

  “Trying to get away?” he asked, the shock in his tone growing sharper with dominance.

  “I'm sorry, Sir!”

  “You tried to get away rather than-” But then he laughed and leaned down to kiss my shoulder. “Don't do that again. Show me how much you want to come. You won't until I let you.”

  My face burned with heat as I deliberately slid backwards onto his shaft. The pleasure was muted when I realized that I was fucking him, close to pleading with permission to have an orgasm. Because he wanted me to...? It did the opposite of helping me hold back, yet I pushed back against him harder, descending into deeper submission. I moaned, arching my back so he thrust deep inside my body. His hand was a blur, moving to the outer side of my thigh. My hips jerked backwards, anticipating pain, but he had only been going to grab my hips.

  “Did I tell you to stop?”

  I continued writhing back into him, though not nearly so fast. Without permission, I was afraid to reach the white-hot levels of pleasure. He made a rough sound when I went still, his arm wrapping around my waist. My knees rocked over the bed as I struggled to track the orgasm that rose faster than I could follow.

  “Sir, I-” can't, I stared desperately at the sheets and found self-control, “I don't want to come when I-”

  “What?” He moved his hand to my neck and had me look at him over my shoulder. “You don't want to come?”

  “Not without permission... Please-! I'm-” Hearing him groan made arousal burn, bringing me closer. Any... fucking... second...

  “Come, baby.”

  “Thank you, Sir!” I shoved my shoulders backwards into his chest, wanting to get closer.

  My eyes closed, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside of me. He pulled back, immediately thrusting forward. The still darkness behind my eyes filled with white spots and flashes of light. Heat took me under, throbbing through my body until I couldn't breathe.

  His hand was on my shoulder. I knew that it should hurt, how hard he was holding me, but I couldn't find the pain through the different levels of pleasure. I heard him moan, breathing harder each time I clenched down around his shaft. Aftershocks pounded through my g-spot and drifted over my clit. I laughed when he fucked me harder, feeling the rise toward orgasm start again. My head fell back onto his shoulder.

  He braced over me as his hand moved between my legs. The muscles in his stomach were hard, his thighs solid as he fucked me. I held my breath when he stroked my clit with two of his fingers. The pressure was light, teasing, his cock barely moving inside me. I moaned when he pulled back to thrust shallowly against my g-spot, my clit throbbing, sensitive except when he was touching me.

  Urgency burned underneath my skin. My nails clawed at the covers, needing one final something to send me over the edge. The frenzy overtook me again. He pinched my left nipple, having pain bring me higher. Almost... I strained backwards, his fingers drawing electric pleasure over my clit. When I turned my head toward him, he kissed me. The bright rush of adrenaline made me kiss him harder, my need for air burning until I felt lightheaded. He let me take a breath and I went over the deep, dark edge, my mental scream of pleasure escaping as a muffled moan against his lips.

  “Did you come?” He held me closer instead of letting me fall forward onto the bed.

  “Yes!” I gasped, feeling drunk and high at the same time. “Thank you, Sir!”

  Quinn must have been close. He immediately came, throwing his head back as he thrust smoothly, pushing deep as he could inside of me. My heart was pounding in my chest. He had held his pleasure back that much to let me come again? I moved with him when he pulled me in against the side of his body. One of his legs was curled over mine, his arm still around my waist. I kissed the back of his arm and relaxed into the firm line of his body.

  He squeezed my shoulder. “We can establish a few more limits. If you're thirsty, hungry, tired, whatever, let me know.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

  I drifted on satisfaction and the comfortable silence for a while. My craving for nicotine seemed to kick in at the same time his did. “They're outside, unfortunately. I can get them for you, if you want me to.”

  “What are?”

  “The cigarettes. On the coffee table, I think.”

  “... Good guess. I want to go through your Checklist with you, anyway. Do you mind, so soon?”

  “Not at all, Sir,” I said, following him into the living room.

  “I'll be right back.” He checked the water bottles on the table. “They're warm.”

  “I'll be right back, too. Two minutes?”

  “By all means.”

  Quinn was still as courteous as he'd been the first night. Confidence swelled and hinted that it wasn't something that would go away. It made me feel better, not seeing makeup smeared all over my face. The dark red lipstick had faded and my eyeshadow... I eyed our clothes in the bedroom. His shirt was probably silvery near one of the shoulders. Not for long.

  “You made the bed?” he asked, meeting me in the hallway.

  “... yes.”

  “And you folded the clothes.”

  “I did, Sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” I took a moment, feeling relieved. “I thought you were upset.”

  “You don't have to do that, you know. I'm not expecting you to be my housekeeper and submissive, too.”

  “And if I like doing it?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I'll show you where the cleaning products are. Seriously, though, you understand what I'm saying, right?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, mentally submitting. “Inflicting pain doesn't make you feel bad, does it?”

  “If I accidentally hurt you, I'll feel really bad.”

  “Accidentally?”

  “Exactly. There is one thing that I don't like doing.”

  “Oh? What is that, Sir?”

  He looked slightly uncomfortable. “Are you on the Pill, or something like it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I use condoms, obviously, but when it comes to partners I can trust, I prefer not to.”

  “That's actually really relieving to hear. In more than one way.”

  “It is,” Quinn replied, looking doubtful.

  “I have a slight latex allergy. It's not a bad allergy, or I'd have said something, but-”

  “Are you okay? I've used at least... I'm not sure. More than a couple.”

  “It's not the sexiest before-sex conversation.” I shrugged. “I slept the sensitivity away and there's nothing wrong with me, now.”

  “That's good to hear.”

  “How far do you want the 'no condom' thing to go?”

  “I'm not going to come inside of you. I know birth control tends to work, but, uh-”

  His pause and wariness matched mine. “Not a worry you want right now?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “I can't have that happen, either.”

  “If you think something's happened, I want to know. That goes for anything, Clara.”

  “I'll let you know, Sir.

  “Do you have all of those limits in your Checklist?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let me get you that laptop.

  * * *

  “Small problem?” I refreshed the web page three times. “The site won't load. They're probably doing maintenance.”

  “Do you have another Checklist?”

  “Sadly, no. Not here, anyway. There are a few I could print to fill out for you.”

  “Don't worry about it. E-mail it over sometime this week.”

  “So long as you aren't mad.”

  “Again with that,” he said, his eyes sharp. “You said, before, something about me being 'upset' with you. You know I never will be, right?”

  “You never will be, what?”

  “We won't be doing anything s/m-wise if I'm mad at you.” He said it so easily, I hid my surprise. “Why do I feel that you expected punishment before? Because the site was down.” />
  “I don't know, Sir. Because you could have?”

  “But I wouldn't. That wasn't your fault.” Quinn looked frustrated, but not with me.“When you were younger, did you parents punish you with smacking or spanking?”

  “No. They yelled, though. Most of the time, we gathered around the kitchen table to work things out.”

  “You said you have no other history of abuse?”

  “None. I know the difference between taking pain because my Dominant wants to give it, and being subjected to it by someone.”

  He sat up a little straighter. “What do you consider abusive?”

  “It's any form of pain that I'm forced to take. Not the kind I submit for, willingly.”

  “But you would have submitted for punishment, just because the site was down.”

  “Because I feel so submissive to you, I accept that you can punish me as it pleases you. I don't think you're going to beat me. You're going to punish me in an s/m way.”

  “Because I'd be mad at you.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Why else would you--? I don't understand.”

  “That's not me. It's the source of all this confusion.” He looked visibly more relaxed. “What does punishment pain mean to you?”

  “Discipline. It's punishment, pain that I shouldn't take pleasure from because I won't let myself. Punishment is given to reprimand, not reward.”

  Quinn looked stunned as he absently stroked my shoulder. “How do you not have a Dominant already?”

  “Don't I, Sir? At least temporarily.”

  “Yes. Thank you. I'm back on track again. Distinguishing between punishment pain and regular pain, I'm really impressed.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “If you do something that I want to punish you for, I'm not just going to start beating you. You haven't had that happen, have you?”

  “Not like that, but my last Top was more traditional with punishment. I'd take a submissive position and then take harder pain for whatever I did.”

  “Did he give you a chance to explain?”

  “... after. Sometimes.”

  “When that happens with us, you need to know that I'm not actually mad at you.”

  “You won't be at all.” I tried to believe him. “Honestly.”

  “Honestly. I might pretend to be, but I'll never actually be mad at you, and then give you pain.”

  “You pretend really well, don't you.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. I think so,” I couldn't help smiling at him. “Now that I know you're not actually mad.”

  “You understand now?”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you again.”

  “You don't need to thank me for that.”

  The way he looked at me made my body crave pain. I wanted to show my gratitude by taking it for him. Intense hunger had the idea spark and roar through my head. Recklessness won. “I've got my Checklist saved in my e-mail. I'll print it for you, if you have a printer?”

  “Print it out, sure. Everything's wireless.”

  Not thinking, I opened the online e-mail's Documents drive. The cover letter to Samuel was there, I'd forgotten. I didn't remember attaching it to the actual document. Quinn averted his eyes and leaned back. Not knowing what else to do, I loaded the Checklist and clicked print. Silence was awkward.

  “I didn't mean to-

  “So, did you see the-” I stopped talking, hearing him.

  “Sorry,” he continued. “That was none of my business.”

  “It's not a definite thing, but I have been thinking about taking a part-time job at Rack's.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I, um... I'll probably be a bondage model. I was at the club, interviewing with the manager yesterday. Just interviewing. He recruited me to take part in, um, educational public demonstrations. On safe s/m play.”

  He snorted quietly, then grinned. “Educational public demonstrations, baby?”

  “They would be.”

  “How often would you be working there?”

  “If there's an upcoming event I can take part in, I'm welcome to. If there are aren't, there's no pressure from anyone to 'play' anyway. Unless I say I'll be there.”

  “Feel no pressure from me, Claire. Let me know when you make up your mind.”

  “Thanks.” I tried to keep the question out of my voice.

  “Come into the office with me? We'll see if your Checklist printed out yet.”

  A large, L-shaped desk occupied most of left side. It was the size of two tables, fitting two computer screens, a printer, scanner, his keyboard and a mouse. There were three bookshelves to my right, two of which were completely filled with different color binders and folders. His second desk chair was dark green and soft, in front of a sliding closet door.

  “I still don't know what you want as a Dominant.”

  “That's because you have so few limits. Most of them are limits of mine.” He quickly flipped through the pages, then back to to where he had been. “Where's the note for 'Permanent scarring?'”

  “It basically says- To take pain that severe, I'd really have to trust my Dominant.”

  “You really do like pain,” he said, more calmly than I could make myself speak.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “When did you realize your reaction to pain was... different?”

  “The one and only time I played baseball.”

  “Baseball?”

  “There was a nail on the field. When I dove for the ball, part of it slid into the side of my leg. I remember it freaking people out that I didn't react to... anything.”

  “How old were you? How bad was it?”

  “I was fourteen then, I think. The point went through a few layers of skin and out the other side. It wasn't deep into my leg, it was just, kind-of, lodged there for a few seconds.”

  “Like needle-play.”

  I winced, thinking about it. “I don't do that. That kind of s/m play scares me a lot.”

  “That's what made you notice, huh? That level of pain.”

  “That's the first time I remember thinking, 'Pain doesn't bother me, like it bothers them.' I learned to say 'ow' and react the right way.”

  “Don't do that with me. I want to know what your real limit for pain is.”

  “I worried that I was reacting differently because of nerve damage, but I went for tests in college. It's just...” I shrugged.

  “It's just that your pain tolerance is way above average?”

  “I think so. Will you let me know, Sir?”

  “Absolutely.” He went back to the first page. “You mentioned belts before. You don't have any bad experiences with them?”

  “None.”

  “You like them?”

  “For taking pain. For wearing.” I grinned at him. “There's really no bad with belts, Sir.”

  I felt things in my body tighten from the excitement in his eyes. “I'm not going to rush through a first session. Not after you've waited so long. Bondage, however... I can fuck you, tied to my bed, and tell you how you're going to take pain for me next time.”

  - Chapter 8 -

  ~ Deadly Game ~

  He barely got through three of the ways before I asked for permission to come. We hadn't even gotten around to using his belt. Belts. I had seen him put two on the bed. Then I was on my knees... the rest of what happened was still blurred when I thought back. We had agreed to meet up from Friday into Saturday. Heavy plans, when I still wasn't sure what he did. A financial adviser. I had no idea what that job title entailed.

  As I had whenever I'd met someone new, and also for the club's records, I made an appointment with my gynecologist. I was positive about good test results, yet sitting in the office, avoiding pamphlets and posters, I felt the worry take hold. It grated at me until after work on Thursday. An e-mail from the doctor's office confirmed that I was clear.

  With the fear banished, I paced around the apartment, wanting to write. But the energy crawlin
g through me was too alive for writing. My body craved sex and pain. Quinn's passion was invigorating. Confounding. He made me want him. I had stopped worrying about emotions coming into play, literally, when-- but Quinn wasn't Rhys. At all. He seemed pleased with how I submitted for him. That our Checklists were so compatible was heartening.

  Why not call him?

  “Hey,” he answered on the fourth ring. “What's up, Clara?”

  “I've got good news for you, unless you're busy?”

  “Good news is always welcome.”

  “I had blood tests done. I'm good, just for the record.” His silence made me realize how tactless I'd been. “It seemed like relevant information, I'm sorry I-”

  “That is really good news.” It sounded like he laughed, though the sound was muffled. “What are you doing now?”

  “Right now? Nothing much. You?”

  “I want you.”

  That nearly made me moan aloud. “Yes please, Sir.”

  “I'm coming to get you. Bring clothes for work, or I can bring you back later.”

  “What do you want me to wear?”

  “Whatever you want, just make sure it'll come off fast.”

  “I will. Thank you, Sir.”

  The next fifteen minutes were a flurry of activity. I packed a small bag while waiting for the lotion on my skin to dry. Forgetting about makeup, I tore through my closet searching for the corsets club-wear and section. I went back through memories, trying to find moments where I'd felt apprehensive about having submitting for him again. There weren't any.

  “Whoa! Hold on there, kitten.” I disentangled Tiny's claws from the train of my skirt. Without the black lacy train, it would have been a plain black leather skirt. It fell to the middle of my thighs and made my legs look nice. My corset was black, stiff and decorated with strips of black velvet. I wasn't sure how I felt about my body shaking involuntarily. Not lightly, either. Why? I sent a message to Lane, letting her know I'd be out all night. My phone buzzed, but it was Quinn, letting me know that he had arrived.