Big Book of Submission Volume 2

Home > Other > Big Book of Submission Volume 2 > Page 16
Big Book of Submission Volume 2 Page 16

by Rachel Kramer Bussel


  It was this whole new thing, traveling through the world with Jax. They didn’t have it down, were a bit awkward with it. It also felt like, whoa, this was a whole new set of information that he hadn’t had before, about Jax, and how he moved through the world. It made it clear how Rickie had only seen a small sliver of him, even though in some ways he felt like he knew him really well. This was going to take adjustment.

  There was also something so delicious about just following him. Letting him lead the way. He chose where they sat on the train, gesturing for Rickie to have the window seat, while he took the aisle, crowding Rickie just a bit against the window in this way that just flat did it for him. It was being cornered and being led and being protected all wrapped together and it filled Rickie with this electric pleasure.

  That was even before Jax took his hand, holding it captive between his own, running his fingertips along every inch of it, before using his nails. Yum. Rickie held still, barely breathing, eyes intent on watching Jax play with his hand, teasing him with delicious pain, intertwining firm grip and gentle strokes until he was all shivery everywhere.

  They were just two trans queers holding hands on the subway on a Saturday night. It would take a particular vantage point to pick out the way D/s was flowing between them, the way Jax was playing with him. This was so damn new in so many ways and he might not be able to breathe for the rest of the night.

  Then Jax stood and drew him to his feet. They were at their stop. No elevator at this station, so they moved toward the stairs. Jax backed him into a pillar and kissed him thoroughly, his hands gripping Rickie’s hair in these glorious pulses of pain. Rickie was shuddering against him. It was so much, and he wanted to soak it all in, all this newness and desire and expansion and nervousness and wow, we are doing this in public exhilaration. He held on tight to Jax and opened, taking it all in, grounding it through his boots on the platform. Yes, this, he wanted this, he could hold all of this.

  Then Jax lifted his head and smiled down at him, his hand stroking Rickie’s cheek all tender, not in a cruel way but in this almost reverent way, and Rickie just fucking melted. He could feel himself go all gooey inside. Like he could actually take that in, right now, could hold it, tolerate it. Believe it.

  Rickie blinked, because it had gotten inside, and he had held it, and that was okay for just a moment, and then right away it was too much again. He had held it, and Jax had seen that, he could tell. Just as Jax had seen it become too much, because he answered by leaning in and biting down on Rickie’s neck, giving him the perfect, invasive, burning pain that Rickie needed to move through the moment to the other side.

  “Thank you,” Jax whispered in Rickie’s ear, before taking his hand and leading him up the stairs at a leisurely pace, and out into the night.

  PLUG PLAY

  Dorothy Freed

  Please, Richard, tell me you’re not serious,” I say, when he shows me the plug he has in mind. “That thing is enormous. It’s not going to fit in my ass.”

  “Really, Kira,” he asks, with that crooked grin of his, “that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Kneel on the edge of the bed, facedown and ass up.”

  Richard, an ass man from way back, has been training mine since I became his sex slave six months ago—moving gradually from the finger-sized plug he started with, to the big bruiser he’s selected for today. We both know I’m okay with it—we have safewords for serious objections and I’m not saying them. Richard, looking amused, arches his brow and waits for me to comply. I huff with indignation, but I do.

  “That’s it. Higher even. Legs farther apart. Good girl,” he croons, stroking my asscheeks, spreading them wide, exposing me completely. I flush with embarrassment, imagining how I look with my face pressed into my pillow and my ass thrusting obscenely into the air.

  My back arches. I shudder as Richard massages the nerve-rich flesh around my anus. Delight races through me as he teases my small puckered opening. I’ve been holding my breath and now release it, moaning, feeling my muscles relax as I do. Seizing his opportunity, Richard slides a well-lubed finger up my ass, while rubbing my swollen pussy lips with his other hand.

  “You like this,” he comments, feigning surprise. “Your clit’s brick hard and you’re dripping wet.” He’s right; although no way will I admit it, I’m aglow from the inside out and hungry for more. I moan again as the finger withdraws and the tip of the plug seeks admittance.

  “Open,” he orders when my muscles clench, involuntarily.

  I take slow, deep breaths, willing myself to relax.

  “Good girl,” he purrs, rubbing my engorged clit—and I open. The plug enters with a sharp burst of sensation and to my surprise slides in like a launched torpedo. I yelp as the widest part enters.

  My sphincter clutches the plug, with its flat base jammed up against my expanded opening. It hurts at first but hurt soon turns to waves of pleasure. I’m panting now, cunt clenching, clit throbbing, ass contracting around the turgid rubber invader. I could come in few swipes of my engorged clit, but Richard grins and orders me to blow him.

  I obey, unhinging my jaw, snake-like, to accommodate his girth. I lose myself in his pleasure, sucking and licking until he tells me to stop.

  “Slip on that little black dress and the red boots I like—and nothing else,” he orders, stuffing his cock back in his pants. “We’re going out for a night on the town.”

  “You’re not serious?” The idea turns me on, but I’m too embarrassed to admit it.

  “Ready, Kira?” he inquires when I’m dressed.

  “Yes, Richard,” I say, blushing. He rewards me with a kiss and throws a coat over my shoulders. We head out for cocktails. One of us is bottom heavy and takes slow, very careful steps.

  Richard watches me ease myself onto the passenger seat where I list to one side and breathe deeply. He grins at me during the three-mile ride from our house, knowing that every bump and pothole in the road accentuates the throbbing in my ass.

  The Harborview Bar is dimly lit and decorated in a seaside motif, with mermaids, fishnets, and anchors displayed on the walls. Richard leads me inside. We sit at a small table near the bar. I fidget and he grins again, enjoying my discomfort. The place is lively, with a mostly young, single clientele crowded around the bar, looking to hook up. A sprinkling of couples sit pressed close together.

  I barely notice. My world is made up of Richard, me, and my electrified ass, clenching and contracting around that plug.

  “What’ll you have tonight?” the perky waitress inquires. I’m hoping Richard will order for me because I’m not sure I can speak, but he turns to me and waits for me to respond. I shoot him an indignant look, which he ignores—and choke out a request for dry white wine. Richard doesn’t drink when he’s topping, and he orders iced tea.

  Our order arrives. Richard’s feeling chatty, whispering in my ear, “Imagine, if that cute little waitress or maybe those super-straight office girls at the next table knew your secret. What if I told them that my girl has a big fat plug up her ass? Would they be shocked—or envious…?”

  I smile, in spite of myself, at the thought of people around us knowing my predicament. Richard slips a possessive arm around me as we sip our drinks. As though we are alone, he gives each of my nipples a sharp pinch through the thin material of my dress, which sends a fresh rush of excitement coursing through me. I’m leaning forward in my chair, nipples puckering, clit tingling, ass throbbing. My breathing has quickened. I’m making little mewling sounds under my breath.

  “Please Richard, may we go home?” I say urgently. He tilts my chin up with his hand and gazes into my eyes.

  “Ready to go home and have me unplug you, Kira?” His grin is demonic.

  “Yes, Richard,” I whisper, feeling my face flush at the image that presents.

  He signals the waitress. She brings the check. Richard takes my hand. We walk slowly to the car.

  Back home, I’m allowed to pee. Then we head for the bedroom where I undress and
await instructions.

  “You know the drill, baby. Kneel on the bed again, facedown, ass up.”

  I obey. Electric sparks shoot through me as my nipples rub against the smoothness of the bedspread. The air in the room feels cool against my skin.

  Richard strokes and pulls at my pussy lips; he sticks in one finger, then two. “You’re soaking wet,” he observes. “Too bad you don’t like this.”

  I moan in response and hold my position as he massages my clit with fingers slick from my juices, while grasping the base of the plug with his other hand. “Okay, baby, relax your ass, and I’ll ease this sucker out, real slow.”

  I writhe in delight when he begins to pull, but expelling the wide part makes me pant and moan. The sensation is so intense it’s like giving birth to something. I scream as Richard pulls it from me, and erupt into the longest, most powerful orgasm of my life.

  Afterward, I lie panting on the bed, overcome with sensation and gratitude for my relationship with Richard, who always knows when and how far to push my limits—and how I’ll never go wrong by trusting my top.

  “Forgive me for doubting you,” I say when I can speak again. “That enormous thing did fit in my ass.”

  Richard grins and kisses me. “Speaking of fitting enormous things inside you, baby, get back on all fours again and stick your ass up high.” He rolls on a condom and lubes it up. “There’s an orgasm I’m about ready to have.”

  SIDETRACKED

  VK Foxe

  The action was automatic, thoughtless. Lewis followed the beautiful blonde running past him with his eyes, his head, and finally a twist of his upper body. The tightknit fabric of her hot-pink leggings was somehow as alluring as bare skin, and the way her ponytail swung had a hypnotic quality to it. She hadn’t even noticed him, alas.

  With a heavy sigh, he turned back around, only to discover another attractive trail runner, who wasn’t running. When had she come around the bend? How long had she watched him ogling the other girl—how long had he stood there stupidly? She had the radiant, light-brown skin of a mixed heritage and wore only skimpy, powder-blue running shorts and a purple sports bra, though she’d crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her legs and abdomen were tight and toned, but her glare was pure disdain.

  Lewis opened his mouth to explain, but what was there to say? He felt his cheeks reddening, and he tried not to make it any worse by staring at this beauty with the same wanting gaze. Too late already.

  “Oh? You want some, then?”

  How was he supposed to answer that? The woman took two swift steps forward and reached a hand around to grab a handful of his hair, but didn’t stop walking. Lewis gasped, speech centers blown out. Sure, he’d been starved for contact, but he’d never expected to be turned on by being hurt—or maybe how she’d taken such a firm, possessive grasp explained his rush of excitement. He stumbled along as she led them off the trail for maybe thirty feet, then shoved him down to his knees behind a large oak.

  What was it about being on his knees that made his heart race? Even if she hated him, he relished the focused attention. Did it make him a pervert that he wanted to volunteer to be hurt more, if that’s what she wanted? She’d watched his eyes, and she nodded as if recognizing his thoughts having come to where she desired: penance.

  The nameless goddess hooked her thumbs into her shorts and drove down in a single, violent motion. He’d been expecting her to grab a sharp stick and poke at him in some symbolic reenactment of the male gaze. Instead, Lewis found himself at eye level to her moistened pudenda as she stepped out of her shorts without bothering to remove her running shoes.

  With a dancer’s grace, she suddenly skipped forward, bounding to catch hold of a branch above them. As she pulled up, her perfect legs wrapped around his head, her sneakers catching him below the shoulder blades, Lewis found himself yanked forward and buried in her thighs. His goddess had been running a while, and she was slick with sweat. “Lick, boy,” she said, breathless and excited.

  He focused on pleasing her, as she shifted and tightened around him like a serpent. He breathed her in and obeyed, savoring the pungent sweetness and overjoyed at living the difference between penance and punishment. The danger of potential exposure, his bended-knee subservience, and her rough, inconsiderate handling combined to make his chest buzz with excitement. But when she began correcting him, Lewis felt the true sting of humiliation.

  “Lower.” His inexperience necessitated this. Lewis resolved to thank her for the tutorial by learning so fast for her. “Slower.” Her scent was all over his face, all he knew, and he felt drugged by it, but he needed to obey, to focus on that, even as he relished being on his knees serving her. “None of that flicky shit,” she snapped. “Savor that clit!”

  Once he’d managed a full minute without correction, she dropped back off, shoved him backward, and settled down onto his face. He licked and lapped and zigzagged and sucked with increasing fervor. He would be so good, earn her praise—and maybe her name.

  At last her thighs tightened, squeezing out sound, and Lewis worked his frantic tongue inside her while trying to tease her clit with his nose. He felt a sudden splash and drank deep, because there was nothing else to do. After a breath he resumed licking, with a more desperate need to prove he could serve her, making certain to swivel and slide and appreciate just as she preferred. He was throbbing and heavy in his jeans, making him wonder if he could climax from pleasing her.

  As she’d relaxed in the wake of climax, her thighs came off his ears, and Lewis heard footsteps approaching, crunching too loudly to be on the main trail.

  “Eyes,” his goddess corrected, and he looked up to meet hers. Sounds weren’t his concern. She smiled down at him, lacing fingers into his hair, then pulled him tight against her, breaking his rhythm. She’d taken charge of motion now, rocking a little, so all he could do was stiffen his tongue; he couldn’t even breathe, he was too tightly pulled against her! Her sliding across his face lacked even the slightest lifting. Lewis watched her smile widen, wolfish, as she read the recognition of his utter helplessness. She began working herself more roughly against his face as he tried to gasp, receiving only a grinding mask of taut, wet skin.

  “Keep that tongue out,” she whispered. “Don’t falter if you ever want to breathe again.” Something cold touched his straining erection, though he didn’t even remember his pants being undone. Then came a strange pressure, warm hands using a heavy object to work against him, to compress and confine him. Everything felt dreamlike and disjointed, difficult to track as his goddess ruthlessly rode him. Just as he felt himself slipping altogether, she reached a gushing climax that stung his open eyes and forced him to swallow.

  As she rose to stand on trembling legs, Lewis was surprised to discover the blonde kneeling behind her. She pierced him with a mischievous glance as something she did made an audible, metallic snick. Their laughter made his cock pulse, and only then did he feel, with an intense rush of desire and need, how awkward and trapped his manhood had become. They had locked it into an impossibly confining metal prison. The blonde stood, picking up a tiny pink purse she hadn’t had with her when she’d jogged past him. She removed a little note card and dropped it in his general direction as the nameless goddess pulled her running shorts back on.

  “We own you now,” his goddess said. “But you like that, don’t you, pet?”

  His face felt hot as he nodded, with both of them staring down at him.

  The blonde said, “Wait one week before you call. The cage will make you properly pliant, ready for further training.” They laughed again, and then began jogging back toward the trail, away.

  Lewis hadn’t just been used; he’d been tricked. Somehow it only made him more desperately hungry for them, and grateful, as his aching cock strained hopelessly against the metal.

  MY GEMINI TWIN

  Randi Miller

  I’m celebrating the twenty-year anniversary of the night two men spanked me. I can remember as if it were yester
day: lying facedown across the white cushioned bench in the living room. Checkered white-and-black linen skirt pulled up around my waist, no panties. My naked breasts swung freely over the edge. My right wrist was handcuffed to the table leg.

  My husband, Malik, and I had always experimented in bed. After taking an erotic, soapy shower together, he pounced on the bed, got on his hands and knees, and commanded: “Give me a rim job.”

  He wagged his big brown booty and spread his cheeks apart. I followed orders. My tongue tickled the soft, sensitive skin outside his asshole. He purred as I licked. His cock extended past his navel as he wedged his butt against my mouth.

  “I have an idea,” Malik said. “I’m going to spank you.”

  I pulled away in surprise. We hadn’t done this before.

  He walked over to his favorite leather chair.

  “Angie. Be a good girl. Crawl to me and lie across my lap.”

  My swollen vulva came to rest on his naked thigh, dousing him with fragrant juices. He reached between my legs and slid a finger into my cunt.

  “You’re soaking wet! Let’s see what happens when I tan your hide.”

  He pulled his finger out and then slammed my ass. My pussy streamed liquid.

  He moved me so my mound pressed against his dick. Then he smacked my ass again. Hard.

  “Ouch!” I squirmed. My dark nipples turned to stone as he spanked. And spanked me. He spread my pussy lips apart and stroked my clit. I begged him to let me come.

  “No. Turn back over.”

  I heard a female voice screaming, “More, more,” as I hovered above my body, watching myself. What was going on?

  “I’m Nikki,” she whispered. Who was Nikki?

  She’s my Gemini twin. When Nikki comes to life, she begs Malik for all the pain and pleasure we can stand. I watch her in awe—I’m there but not there. I can see what’s happening, but I don’t feel the pain until afterward.

  “Get a hairbrush,” Nikki said. “I need to be spanked harder.”

 

‹ Prev