Bound by Consent

by Dalia Craig

  I scanned Cassie’s face searching for reassurance, maybe something in her eyes that spoke of caring or trust. I found nothing, yet my hunger drove me forward.

  As if drawn by an invisible elastic thread to the gorgeous butch in front of me, I closed the remaining distance until I felt Cassie’s breath on my face. Our eyes met and locked in a heart-stopping moment of total oneness. Heat crawled up my neck and flooded my cheeks, and the air hissed out of my lungs cleansing me of all doubts and fears. I took one pace back, and then lowered my gaze in acknowledgement of my submissive role.

  Cassie needed no further invitation. With a flick of her wrist, she stripped the towel from my body, tossed it aside, and then paced back and forth. I squirmed under the intense scrutiny, unused to standing totally naked before my Mistress, yet turned on by the sensual heat of her gaze. A new experience for me since Esmée had adopted a totally different approach to domination. Juices flooded my pussy and began to trickle down my thighs.

  I held my breath when Cassie finally stopped pacing and approached the table. I watched, fascinated as she began to sort through the whips and floggers, taking her time, humming a quiet tune as if she was alone in her own world.

  What instrument of delicious torture would she choose?

  After what seemed an agonizingly long wait, Cassie finally selected the very same red spaghetti-string flogger that I had handled earlier. The satisfying zing-thwack which echoed around the dungeon when she tested it against wood turned my legs to jelly.

  “I think we’ll start there.” Cassie waved the flogger in the direction of the stool. “Face down. No…Wait!”

  Already halfway to my destination, I stopped with my heart in my mouth. I turned around slowly, waiting, expectant, anticipating the exhilarating lash of leather thongs against my bare skin.

  “Put these on.”

  My slow reaction meant I barely managed to catch the set of nipple clamps and beaded mask that Cassie tossed in my direction. I took my time clipping the clover clamps onto my nipples, the heavy connecting chain hung almost to my waist and gave a satisfying tug as I moved. And once I’d pulled the mask over my face, I was relieved to discover I could still see, albeit through very thin slits that severely limited my field of vision. Being in total darkness was the one thing I feared above all else. Esmée had loved to test my devotion to the limit with sensory deprivation.

  I stepped forward on unsteady legs, lowered myself into the restraints at the front of the stool, and then slid my body across the curved top with my arms stretched out above my head so that my wrists rested in the open manacles.

  Other than my ragged breathing, not a sound broke the silence.

  When Cassie clicked the thigh restraints shut locking me into the stool, I reveled in that special moment, the subtle rise in tension and a promise of the erotic pleasures to come if I could hold out long enough. As though she’d read my mind, Cassie adjusted the angle of the supports forcing my legs wider apart. Cool air caressed my moist heat like a lover’s kiss and cranked my arousal up a further notch. In desperation, I pressed my mound hard against the stool and wriggled my ass.

  “Stop that. You will wait until I give you permission to come.” A sharp crack rent the air, and an exquisite pain seared my ass. I jerked in reaction, and the nipple clamps bit into my flesh, firecrackers exploding throughout my body. They’d barely ceased when Cassie snapped the wrist manacles shut completing my entrapment.

  Oh, it felt so good.

  Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the thrill and satisfaction I got from being shackled, flogged, and fucked senseless by a hard mistress. Esmée’s supposedly heavy workload, or more likely her blossoming affair with that sly bitch, Marisa, had kept us away from the club for all of three months so I had a lot of time to make up for. My heartbeat raced out of control as the rush of blood pumped through my veins and hot juices scalded my throbbing crotch.

  Cassie strutted around the stool; her soft leather boots making little sound on the oak floor. With each circuit, she teased the flogger across my skin: up my legs and down my back, across my ass so the strands licked at my slit like a tongue and got slicker with my juices at each sensuous stroke. I grew even hotter and wetter; my excitement and anticipation rose to a fever pitch until I hovered on the brink of the forbidden orgasm. And when Cassie thrust a hard dildo deep into my slick pussy, I came apart.

  My eager muscles claimed the cold steel with a vice-like grip. I thrashed against the restraints and the stool as wave after wave of electric sensation drove me higher and further until I plunged over the precipice into a place I’d never been before – floating weightless in space, enveloped in bright rainbow lights with the crash of waves pounding a distant shore filling my ears. I fought to prolong the ecstasy, to stay forever in this perfect world, but the colors and sounds faded all too soon leaving me slumped over the stool, my breathing ragged, and my body twitching with aftershocks.

  “I didn’t give you permission to come, bitch!” Cassie said, voicing her displeasure. She did a couple of circuits around the stool, flicking the flogger against her boot, making me wait to discover my fate. “Now I shall have to punish you, and then we’ll start over again, from the beginning.”

  Bring it on. I heard the whoosh a split second before the flogger connected with my ass. I screamed, bucking, as the dying pulses of my orgasm were rejuvenated, raising me to fresh heights of pleasure.

  Oh God! This felt so good. I relaxed, allowing the waves of incredible sensation to flow through my body.

  And this was just the start; Cassie’s words held the promise of a fun-filled night.

  Slave to Lust

  ~

  Bryana

  Can Bryana risk letting Cassie Stuart back into her life?

  Six months later...

  “At last!”

  I didn’t immediately recognize the gravelly voice that echoed like the crack of a whip through the silent lobby. For a few timeless seconds the sounds merely reverberated around my head, while my brain refused to process the information. Then my gaze focused on the figure seated on the floor right outside my door and reality disintegrated into fantasy.

  Cassie Stuart’s appearance in my world, both unexpected and unannounced, defied belief. She slowly uncurled her legs and got to her feet. Although much the same height, with me wearing heels, her aura of domination gave the impression that she towered over me.

  The shock of her presence set my heart hammering so hard it felt as if a massive locomotive was tearing a path through my chest. From the little I knew of Cassie, she would want to exert herself, her authority, her dominant position and in return, she’d expect me to submit myself totally to her will.

  Fuck! I didn’t need her or that sort of intense pressure in my life right now.

  I caught my breath and allowed the instinct for flight to gain the upper hand. If I could just distance myself from her and from temptation then I’d… The doors to the elevator chose that moment to swish shut behind me cutting off my escape route.

  Even as a comparative novice in the world of Domme/sub, I knew it was a pipe dream to imagine that we could ever meet as equals. In the same context there were too many obstacles in the way of us becoming friends, or lovers, in the conventional sense. I still had a lot to learn about being submissive and, to be honest, I wasn’t entirely convinced that Cassie was the right Mistress to guide me through to the next stage. Did I even want to try? Yes, no, maybe... I lambasted myself. Being indecisive was getting me nowhere.

  She drilled me a penetrating gaze. “Where have you been, Bryana?”

  The question sounded more like an accusation. I frowned, trying to get a handle on where Cassie was coming from since we hadn’t seen each other or communicated in more than six months. Had she expected to find me sitting around, waiting, like an obedient puppy for her to get in touch?

  “Paris. I…” The half answer tumbled from my lips in a strangled gasp. She had me so flustered and confused
I couldn’t breathe properly, let alone speak. I dropped my bags and my gaze.

  How did she find me?

  A very good question. In a final attempt to sever all ties with the past and my faithless ex, Esmée Vincent, I’d moved into this new apartment in a rapidly expanding Docklands complex just four weeks ago, although, recent events had proved that Esmée wasn’t so easy to dismiss from my life. The grapevine in Paris had been abuzz with talk of her and that haughty, stick-insect, Marisa, the model with whom she’d shacked up even before our affair ended. According to the rumor mill, their fledgling relationship had already hit the rocks with both parties choosing to bad-mouth me all over the show as a way of absolving themselves from blame for their sorry debacle. Not that I’d had any part in their current predicament. Word had it that Esmée, apparently never satisfied with what she had and always seeking greener grass, was caught, in flagrante delicto, fucking the avant-garde designer, Angel Z, during an after-show party. Marisa’s revenge came with the swift, decisive and very public seduction of Yazmin, Angel Z’s current favorite companion. I sighed. Why was I even bothering to rake up the past or waste my time thinking about those stupid, self-serving, bitches? Esmée and Marisa deserved each other and I deserved...

  Cassie?

  I lifted my gaze; briefly scanning her weather-beaten face before moving down over her lean body. Whew! Even that brief appraisal left me needing a cold shower. Her jeans and the green plaid shirt worn over a toned pale green vest were a little neater than I recalled and, presumably as a concession to London, a pair of Cuban-heeled ankle boots had replaced the black and tan knee-length riding boots. Otherwise, she hadn’t changed at all from the sexy butch who had ridden to my rescue after the Jaguar ran out of road and into a peat bog in the wilds of Scotland. Cassie was the hottest butch I’d come across in my entire life. There was no denying she had all the attributes to attract women in droves so she didn’t need to chase a nonentity like me.

  My body trembled in a cross between excitement and fear at the thought of being pursued by Cassie. I didn’t want to get involved with her, or with anybody. What I needed was a break. Time alone to be myself. To regroup and find a new direction to take my life.

  “Who were you fucking in Paris?”

  Why did she assume I was out on the fuck?

  Did I come across as a bitch in heat prepared to fuck anybody and everybody?

  I sucked in a long calming breath to prevent myself from responding before I’d given my brain and mouth time to synchronize. Cassie had no jurisdiction over me, or my actions; other than those occasions when…if...we ever came together in a Domme/sub situation. Nor had she any right to invade my privacy. After consideration, I chose to ignore her intrusive question and ask a couple of my own instead.

  “Why are you here?” I met her dark brooding gaze with uncharacteristic boldness. “What do you want from me?” The obvious response, one that would put my mind at rest, would be ‘let’s have a return session then we’ll call it quits’ or something along those lines.

  “What do you think?” Cassie’s brow rose with the question. “Did you honestly think I’d just let you walk away from me like that, without permission?” Her tone of voice, backed up by her body language, challenged me to argue the point. “Yeah, I know, you’re wondering why it’s taken me so long to find you?” She shrugged not waiting for me to respond before continuing. “You were a right bitch to track down; that’s why.”

  Heat crawled across my skin. The memory of our one amazing night together resurfaced to ignite an inferno inside my guts. However, her assertion that she wasn’t prepared to let me walk away from her overlooked the fact that I had done just that; and despite her claim to the contrary, Cassie probably hadn’t tried very hard to find me. I shook my head. If she’d really wanted to track me down, she could have done so much sooner and without too much trouble since I hadn’t exactly hidden myself away from the world. Why would I? The truth was much simpler. Following my pre-dawn flight from Auchtercairn, I had never expected to have any contact with Cassie again. Particularly as I hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye or thank her for rescuing me from a cold wet night on the mountain.

  I’d woken early, before five o’clock, the strange bed, and even stranger room, confusing my brain until the pleasant aches creeping across my body reminded me of the night’s events. Not wanting to disturb anybody, particularly Cassie, I ventured downstairs in search of my bag and some clean underwear. Jazzy, my faithful Jaguar XJS convertible, stood in the courtyard where Hamish, Cassie’s estate factor, had towed her in late the previous evening. Unbelievably, she looked pristine, freshly washed, and thankfully undamaged, with not a sign of her recent excursion into the peat bog remaining. Nice man; I silently thanked Hamish for the trouble he’d taken to clean her up. My hand glided lovingly across her silky smooth, metallic-silver bodywork then, from habit, I opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat. The familiarity of the padded leather seat cradled my frame and soothed my aches. Out of curiosity, I tried the starter and unbelievably the motor purred into life as if nothing untoward had happened. Without thinking of the consequences of my actions, I engaged drive then pulled cautiously out of the courtyard onto the narrow lane. Once underway, with both steering and brakes feeling normal, I drove on not stopping until I reached Inverness where I checked Jazzy into a workshop for a thorough inspection and myself into a spa hotel for a couple of nights of pampering before completing my journey South.

  On my return to London, I’d set about the process of rearranging my life, looking to start afresh with no baggage and nothing to remind me of the past. However, the arrangements had taken a lot longer than I’d have liked mainly due to my punishing work schedule. These last few months had been particularly hectic, with photographic assignments all over the globe. It had also taken nearly four months to get shot of the expensive apartment in fashionable Chelsea that I’d leased to please Esmée then find and negotiate a satisfactory two year agreement on this new apartment. Two years would give me some breathing space and ample time to work out where my future lay. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to make the UK my permanent home. Both Paris and Amsterdam, being on the European mainland where most of my photographic commissions were these days, had distinct advantages over London in terms of lifestyle and transportation links. So far, only one certainty was set in stone, no more sharing for me; the upheaval when a relationship failed was both emotionally and financially draining as well as time consuming. If I did become involved with somebody new then she would have to keep her own place.

  Cassie hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about her sudden reappearance in my life; I tried again. “I still don’t understand why you’ve come.”

  “We have unfinished business.”

  “Have we?” I couldn’t get my head around the fact that Cassie wanted more from me. Our one night together had been a fluke, a chance encounter, two strangers caught up in a wild sexual adventure then destined never to meet again. Cassie was way out of my league both socially and in terms of her sexual experience. That fully equipped dungeon in the tower at Auchtercairn was the stuff of fantasy. Few people could aspire to private ownership of such a wide selection of pleasure instruments. Besides which, I didn’t want to get involved in a new relationship so soon after seeing the back of an old one, and inevitably the distance between us would prove an insurmountable obstacle to any permanent arrangement. Cassie’s domain, her castle, Auchtercairn, was six hundred miles from London and a world away from my comfort zone.

  The events of that night had tested me to the limit. Beginning with the way Cassie’s hands glided up my thighs as she hiked my unsuitable pencil skirt up around my hips and helped me mount that disgusting, smelly, animal. I shuddered again, as I always do when I recall the sexual high I got while riding Tavish; the friction of the rough horse blanket against my crotch sent my libido spiraling out of control. Not to mention what followed. Hot! Cassie had proved herself worthy of the title Dominatrix; a true
Mistress of Seduction. Looking back, I still can’t believe how quickly I submitted to her will or that I had given so little thought to my own safety. It was a crazy chance to take with a total stranger. Neither could I fathom what she’d got out of the one-sided arrangement. Cassie had strapped my naked body to a bench and flogged several amazing orgasms out of me yet all the while, she had remained aloof, fully clothed, and never once allowed me to touch her.

  “Yes, we do, and I’ve come to collect.” Cassie flexed her shoulders, her mouth tightening into a fine line. “Why are we having this conversation out here? Aren’t you going to invite me inside? I’ve spent most of the three last days sitting on this damned hard floor waiting for you to get home. I need a shower, a stiff drink, some food, and a good fuck, but not necessarily in that order.”

  “I’m sorry.” Anxious not to incur Cassie’s wrath, I leapt forward and swiped my keycard to release the door. Then I stood aside to allow her to enter first.

  I couldn’t begin to imagine what she would make of the apartment, or the austere modernity, after the faded elegance of Auchtercairn. In choosing the theme for my new start in life, I’d settled for minimalistic simplicity in both the décor and furnishings, with the starkness of black and white relieved by very few dashes of vibrant color in the shape of artwork and silk flowers. I slipped out of my shoes and followed in Cassie’s wake as she strode across the living area; the tap-tap of her heels sounded ominous, like the measured drumbeat of an executioner, upon the hardwood floor. She stopped at the picture window, taking time to absorb the view of the Thames with the O2 arena opposite and the hazy outline of the Thames Barrier away in the distance. Then she turned to assess the room with a long sweeping glance before she nodded.

  “Nice.”

  She liked it!

  That one word of approval meant everything to me. I expelled a pent up breath and waited for more; there was bound to be more. What would Cassie do or say next?