by Amy Valenti
The fierce possessiveness in his voice was so erotic that I just had to thrust up my hips to drive his fingers deeper inside. “Mmmm…”
“Your obedience still needs some work, though…” Marc withdrew his hand slowly, teasing me even as he punished me for the transgression. “Would you embarrass me like that in front of all those other Doms and subs? Disobey my orders over and over again?”
I turned my head to bury my face against my shoulder, ashamed by the rebuke even as my clit throbbed with impatient need. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just no good at this, am I?”
He was silent for a couple of seconds, and I waited tensely for his assessment. What if he wanted a submissive who was more controlled? I never meant to disobey him, but when he drove me crazy like this, it just seemed to happen so easily.
The next thing I felt was something tickling softly up my side, from my hip up to my armpit. Without thinking, I writhed away from the unknown instrument of torturous tickles, unable to help a shriek. “No!”
By the time I registered that Marc was tickling me with an oversized black feather, I was almost in pain from laughing so hard. It wasn’t even unbearable as far as sensations went—my giggles had just gotten out of control, and now I couldn’t stop laughing. “If you don’t stop soon, Sir, I’m going to cramp up, I swear…”
He dusted the feather over my nipples one more time, just to prove that he was in control, then relented, setting it aside. It was too late, though. I couldn’t stop laughing and my stomach was beginning to ache. Worse, I couldn’t move my arms to cradle it, and the whole situation seemed hysterically funny, though I got the impression I was being a really bad submissive. The realisation just set me off into another despairing laughing fit. “Ow… God, that hurts! Yellow! Yellow, red, ow!”
Marc kissed my forehead. “I can’t stop you from laughing, beautiful… I’m sorry, but that’s something you have to do on your own.”
“Fuck!” I cried emphatically between painful peals of laughter, tears spilling down my cheeks.
“Hmm…” I sensed Marc’s concern, but that just seemed even funnier. I wasn’t sure if it was my fault or his that he’d lost control of the scene, but either way, it seemed pretty damn hilarious to me.
Then he slapped me hard—each of my inner thighs, then my neglected clit—and I was stunned into silence, my breath caught in my throat, my senses reeling as my body struggled to process the sharp stinging and the contrasting swell of pleasure in my pussy. My aching stomach muscles, tense from too much laughter, were an unwanted minor intrusion in comparison.
Marc grinned. “I wasn’t sure that was gonna work, but I’m glad it did.”
I sagged back against the cushioned bed of the rack, trying to get my breath. “Me too. Sir.”
While I recovered from the effects of my giggling fit, Marc untied me and unbuckled me from the spreader bar, leaving me in just my wrist cuffs and collar. He helped me to sit up, and I reluctantly acquiesced.
“I’m really sorry, Sir.”
He shook his head. “Don’t even go there, Nell. You couldn’t help it. And I may have contributed a little…”
He lifted me in his arms and I wrapped my naked body around his clothed one. Why did it seem so right that I was completely nude and he was the complete opposite?
“You’re not the most restrained sub in the world, but like I told you, it’s a learning curve. And you are learning…even if at times you’re learning to be a naughty little hedonist.”
I smiled into his neck. I definitely was that.
Marc lowered me onto the bed and motioned for me to grasp the headboard. When I did, he clipped my wrists together around one of the metal spokes. “I got the impression you like to be immobilised.”
I nodded sheepishly. “Yes, Sir. But I love to hold you, too.”
“You’ll get the chance…when I say so.”
The reminder that he was in control was enough to shut me up. Marc’s next move—to strip off his shirt and then his pants—was enough to distract me from any urge to speak. When he turned to face me wearing only tight black shorts, an impressive erection barely contained by the fabric, I subconsciously wet my lips.
Marc stripped the shorts off without taking his eyes from me. I gazed at his long, thick cock appreciatively. I’d never get tired of the sight of him hard for me; I was sure of it.
I spread my legs wide as he joined me on the bed, and he needed no encouragement to lie between them, pressing his hard-on up against my hot, wet slit and gazing into my face.
“You want my cock?”
“You have no idea how much, Sir.”
He kissed me, slow and tender, but with a hard edge beneath that revealed his need for me. “Good, because I want my submissive to take it for me.”
I rubbed my clit against his rigid shaft desperately, arching my back so that the points of my hard nipples brushed his chest and sent sparks of lust through my system. Marc gave a low, approving growl and reached down between our bodies to guide his length inside me in one long, insistent thrust, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt in my pussy.
I nuzzled his neck, wishing I could hold him, but at the same time loving the fact that I couldn’t. “You always feel amazing, Sir.”
“And you’re fucking incredible, my sub.” He gave me another one of those slow, sweet kisses that made my heart sing, sighing into my mouth as my inner muscles fluttered around his shaft in response.
When he drew back from the kiss, he looked down into my face with an expression I couldn’t quite read. There was affection there, but also something inexplicably protective, almost fierce, not quite desperate. It didn’t make sense, but right now, it didn’t have to.
He braced himself to withdraw, and I readied myself for his next thrust with an ache of longing so deep that it took my breath away.
“I want you so much, Sir…”
Marc’s cock jerked inside me, a subtle but enticing movement. With a lustful purr, I tightened my internal muscles around it. His breath caught.
He drew back and slammed into me, beginning a fast, hard rhythm that made me almost sob with relief, even as it broke the mood of that lingering moment between us. The orgasm I’d been craving for hours began to build again, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I lost my mind completely. I wrapped my legs around him and gave up control, letting Marc use me as he wanted, just holding on for the ride as the pleasure increased with every rock of his hips.
He slowed just a little, captured my lips with his as he moved, and I moaned into his mouth at the new intimacy of his tongue against mine. I loved being this close to him, his breath hot against my lips, his body brushing mine up and down as he moved against me.
I love you. I wished I could say it, but was too lost in his kiss to break away. When he broke away to kneel, grab my hips and thrust up at a new, dizzyingly effective angle, I was too busy crying out with ecstasy to form coherent words.
“Wait for me,” he ordered, his voice rough and commanding. “Don’t you dare come yet.”
With difficulty, I held his gaze and nodded. Even though I wasn’t entirely sure I could obey, I was going to try my damnedest.
“Good girl.” Marc brushed his finger lightly over my clit and I bit back another cry, my thighs beginning to tremble on either side of his waist. His approving grunt as I clenched around him just made things even better, and I gasped his name pleadingly.
He cursed, leaning over me again and increasing the depth of his thrusts. His cock slipped in and out easily, lubricated by my juices. My toes curled as he rolled one of my nipples, squeezed hard enough to make me whimper, then moved roughly to my other breast to do the same there.
“Now, Sir?”
He didn’t reply for long, agonisingly pleasurable moments, and I was almost sobbing by the time he gave the command. “Now.”
As I stopped holding back, Marc tangled the fingers of one hand in my hair, yanking my head to the side and biting down on the curve of flesh where my
neck met my shoulder. I came hard around his cock, my senses blurring into one heady experience of pain and bliss, my body shuddering with relief as the climax took me. Marc growled with satisfaction as his shaft jerked inside me, and he kissed the spot he’d just bitten tenderly.
I tried to curl around him in the afterglow, but my hands were still tethered above my head. As if reading my mind, Marc reached up and thumbed the catch on the clip holding my wrists together, freeing me. I brought my arms down slowly, readjusting to freedom, and Marc drew me closer, wrapping me in his warm embrace and rolling us so that I lay on top of him, his cock still deep within me.
We stayed that way for a while, quiet and relaxed. Marc skimmed his fingers up and down my spine with a sigh. “I was worried about you today.”
“I was okay, really. It was unexpected, but I had work to do anyway, so I guess it’s good that we got interrupted.”
“I’ll try to keep you out of his way as much as I can.”
I lifted my head to find him frowning up at the ceiling, and ran my fingers over the crease between his eyebrows. What was going on with him? His father seemed hard to get along with, but Marc seemed more troubled than the situation called for.
“I have to admit, he’s a little scary. I can hold off on officially meeting him for a while.”
I’d been trying for a light tone, but something about it must have rubbed Marc up the wrong way. Pressing a distracted kiss to my temple, he rolled me off him and stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
“Sure,” I said to his retreating back, admiring the flex of his tight buttocks as he walked across the dungeon to the bathroom. I was getting more confused by the moment.
When he returned a few minutes later, there was no trace of the odd mood he’d displayed just before he’d left the room. “Wanna find something to eat?”
Chapter Three
Dear Diary,
It’s been a week since that interrupted scene in Marc’s office. I’ve seen him a couple of times around the office, but he hasn’t taken me back upstairs for any stolen moments or offered to spend any time together after work, and he seems a little distant. All I can get out of him is that something’s come up that he has to work on, and he doesn’t have time to socialise. I guess whatever made his dad go ballistic on Monday, it was something pretty big.
It’s given me time to think, though. I needed that—everything’s been so whirlwind-like since I met him, and I was just going with the flow rather than thinking things through.
Submission is fun, and I want to be more dedicated to it. I want to please Marc, because that’ll also mean I’m pleasing myself. There’s nothing like that buzz I get from following his instructions, then having him praise me for it. I like the idea of serving his needs and trusting he’ll see to mine, and that weird and wonderful connection between us when that happens, when he introduces me to something I never thought I’d like, but somehow do.
I hope he’s free at some point this weekend. I’ve missed being around him so much. Plus, there are a couple of new movies coming out that I’d love to watch with him.
Oh, god, what if he’s changed his mind about us after his dad nearly caught us? How am I going to deal with that?
I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess.
****
The end of the working day on a Friday should have been a time for relief, and excitement for the weekend to come, but this time all I felt was disappointment that Marc hadn’t gotten in touch, and more than a little anxiety. How long should I wait before approaching him? I didn’t want to interrupt his work, but as things stood between us, I needed some reassurance.
Calling my goodbyes to the people at the desks around mine, I headed for the door, deep in thought. At least work was going well. Stella seemed pleased with my contributions, and if I could finalise a logo for the new ‘not tested on animals’ branding we were looking at introducing…
My apartment was only about twenty minutes’ walk from the office, so I decided to head off on foot rather than wait around for public transport during rush hour. As I made my way home, my thoughts returned to Marc. The memory of his arms around me made me smile despite my worries, and by the time I got to my apartment block my imagination had strayed into very X-rated territory.
Since it looked as if I was going to be alone for the evening, I went straight into my bedroom, pulled the drapes shut and stripped out of my work clothing immediately. My vibrator was in the bottom drawer of my bedside cabinet, and I set it within reach before I lay down on the bed.
Calling up a fantasy of Marc standing over me was as easy as blinking, and I slid my fingers between my thighs, imagining he was watching me. I was already wet, and as I teased my clit with one hand, I cupped my breast with the other, then squeezed the nipple into hardness.
“You want to come?” my fantasy asked, staying out of my reach. “Show me how needy you are, Eleanor.”
I cupped my hot, wet labia in my palm and rolled my hips up, grinding my clit against my hand as I pressed down firmly. He made a low noise of approval, just for me, and I murmured wordlessly in response, caught up in the warm, throbbing heat that was the centre of my existence right now.
“Finger that tight, hot pussy for me, my sub. Imagine I’m the one touching you.”
I slipped a finger inside slowly, enjoying the sensation of opening up inside, the slow burn of added pleasure as I began to withdraw it again.
“More,” he commanded, and I brought another finger in to join the first, sighing at the increased width. “Don’t forget your clit.”
As if I could! I rolled my thumb across it and let loose a tiny cry, curling my fingers inside my pussy and increasing the pace of my hand’s movements. “I want you, Sir,” I whispered to the empty room, knowing my words would go unheard but lost in the fantasy. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed the way you taste, Eleanor. The way you press against my tongue when I lick you, the way you moan when I suck on your clit. You have no idea how much I want to do that right now.”
My inner walls rippled around my fingers as the words took their powerful effect. “Anything you want, Sir.”
My fantasy Marc laughed softly. “Then come here.”
In reality, I didn’t move, barely even slowed my touches against my swollen clit. In my mind, though, I got up from the bed and crossed the dungeon—all of a sudden we were there rather than at my place—to stand in front of my shirtless Dom. His suit pants bulged with his erection, and I yearned to rub myself against it, but he guided me the few steps to the St. Andrew’s cross instead, his grip firm on the back of my neck.
“Hold the straps,” Marc directed as he positioned me with my back to the smooth, dark wooden X.
It was pretty obvious that he could have fastened the leather straps around my wrists, keeping me in place, had he wanted to. This was clearly meant to be a test of my obedience, and I would not let him down. Leaning back against the cross, I reached up and out to the straps at the two higher points of the cross, holding them lightly for now.
My fantasy Marc looked me over approvingly, the intensity of his gaze making goosebumps break out over my skin. “Fall, and I’ll stop.”
He dropped to his knees in front of me, the movement bringing his head level with my abdomen.
I clutched at the straps I was holding, his warning suddenly making sense. If I overbalanced before he brought me to orgasm, he’d leave me unfulfilled. I could hardly bear the thought, and yet the risk of it brought a new surge of warm wetness to my pussy. Even my fantasies were demanding these days.
I writhed on the bed in reality as, in my mind, Marc kissed down from my navel to slide his tongue between my sensitive labia. My head fell back against the St. Andrew’s cross as I held the straps tighter, determined to ride out this experience without slipping. He gave several long, languid licks, tasting me thoroughly, then slid two fingers deep inside me as he drew my clit into his mouth, circling it with the t
ip of his tongue.
“Sir…” I whispered, pressing against his face and down onto his fingers. He fucked me steadily that way while I silently begged my weak knees to support me through this blissful torment.
My legs were shaking, but I was pretty sure I’d be able to stay upright—that was, until he lightly scraped his teeth over my clit. My knees buckled without warning, leaving me clinging to the straps that prevented me from sliding to the floor.
“Oh, my god, please…” I somehow managed to hang on, to redistribute my weight so I wouldn’t fall, but it was a close thing.
Marc held me by the hips, helping me reorient myself again without taking his lips from my pussy. He gazed up at me while he flicked his tongue over my clit, his eyes dark with pure, animal lust.
His intense focus was the last element I needed to tip over the edge. Shaking with need, I bucked against his fingers and tongue as the orgasm crested to drown me in indescribable sensation. Dimly, I was aware that I’d screamed out with my release, but that only seemed to make it headier, more tangible.
By the time the climax faded enough for me to gather my fantasy together again, Marc had gathered me into his lap and I was clinging to his shoulders, trying to regain my breath. Had I fallen, or had he guided me to the ground? I suspected it was the former, but it didn’t matter now.
Somewhere along the way, my imagination had stripped him completely naked, and now his thick, hard cock was pressing against my entrance. Blindly, I reached for my vibrator and pushed it a little way inside me, imagining that I was sinking down onto his shaft, taking him in gradually. My satisfied pussy was almost too sensitive to take it, but the pleasure began to build again and I found myself craving a second orgasm.
“God, I love it when you do that, Eleanor.”
In my fantasy, I slowly began to take him, moving up and down with controlled surges of my hips. Marc cupped my breasts and lowered his head to take one nipple in his mouth, then switched to the other, sucking and licking, biting and squeezing. I began to increase the pace, flicking the switch of the rabbit vibrator and moaning as its ‘ears’ buzzed against my clit. The ball-bearings twirling inside the shaft made it almost seem to pulsate inside me, and I imagined Marc twitching within me, holding off his climax as he continued to tease my nipples—