by Diana Hunter
Quietly he lit two more candles in the room, but her eyes did not stray from him. For now he stripped off his shirt and she saw the tremendous muscles in his chest. He moved with the grace of a cat, no, a lion, as he picked something up from a table in the dark. Coming to her, he brushed his hand again over her nipples, causing her breasts to ache for more of his touch. Another possessive kiss, and he stepped back. So intent was she on his eyes, that she saw only a flick of his wrist and a quick blur before she felt the soft flogger between her legs.
She cried out before she could stop herself.
“Would you like me to stop?” he asked, standing casually in front of her, running the soft leather of the flogger through his hand.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…it didn’t hurt. You took me by surprise, that’s all.”
He still stood, not making any move other than to watch her, still running the flogger through his hand. She wondered if she’d said something wrong, then realized what it was. “Sir. You simply took me by surprise, Sir.”
He nodded his approval and a small thrill of satisfaction ran through her. She was learning how to play this game. The thought of being whipped into submission brought images to her head from the occasional romance novel she read. Those images never failed to excite her. The reality of actually being flogged, however, was much more arousing than she ever expected.
He swatted her gently several times; sometimes on the stomach, sometimes on the arms, sometimes the legs. But then one landed on her bound breasts and she gasped. “Do you like that?” He let it land there again and the urge to come was strong.
“Oh, yes, I like that very much, Sir.” The title came easily in her need and surprise. She did like this. Why? What was this saying about herself?
He flicked it over her pussy and her moan was vocal. “Like that?”
“Oh, yes, Sir!” The psychology of why she was responding to this faded into the background of her mind, replaced by desire and need. She writhed in her bonds, wanting desperately to come now.
He flicked it again. “What do you want? Tell me.”
“I want to come…oh, let me come!” She felt like such a slut asking a man if she could come; in the past, she controlled her own orgasms. But the bondage and her lack of power and the flogger had done their work. She wanted to come and was willing to beg for it.
“No.”
The word was flat, final. He turned, putting the flogger on the table behind him.
She cried out in frustration. This wasn’t fair! She wanted to come, but because of her bonds, could not. How dare he get her all worked up and then leave her? Before she got enough breath to speak her mind, however, he was back, facing her.
“You are mine, tonight. I command you. You may only do what I say.” He brushed a hair out of her face. “Do you accept this?”
She just stared at him. Then, slowly, she repeated, “I am yours, you command me, I may only do what you say.” Fine. She’d play his game, come, and go home.
“What?” His voice was soft, his lips so near her ear she could feel his breath. She squirmed in her bonds. “You need to learn to say it. To accept it.”
Her breath was ragged, her need intense. “I am yours, Sir. You command me, Sir and I may do only what you say.” She paused before adding, pleading, “Sir.”
For answer, his lips pulled on her earlobe, one hand playing with her nipple, the other reaching down and brushing the hair on her mound. She moaned and pushed against his hand as he held her, slipping one finger down to touch her clit. Her body moved towards a climax and she pushed against him, once, twice, three times.
And he stepped back. The sudden removal of his hand left her unable to come—again—and she whimpered in frustration. He took her chin in his hand and turned her face up toward his. “Open your eyes,” he commanded. She did so, unable to refuse. “You will come when I tell you to. You will come when I want you to. And you will keep coming until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?”
She had no words. The constant arousal and the bondage were beginning to tire her. She hung from her wrists and nodded her consent.
He could see she was almost ready. But it was time to give her a rest before continuing his training. For training her he was. Breaking her, slowly, without her knowledge. Each time he pushed her a little further and she did not resist, his hopes went a little higher. Sarah just might be the submissive he hoped she was. Gently, he removed the ropes from her breasts, letting the blood flow to them once again. As it did so, she breathed deeply, her breasts rising and falling, tingling.
He caressed each one, softly planting kisses on the base of her breast where the ropes had left their marks. Massaging them, he waited until he heard her whimper again, knowing her desire was still strong. Leaving the cuffs on her wrists, he detached them from the wall, letting her hands fall to her sides.
She sagged against him as blood flowed to her arms. Her legs, still spread about two feet apart, kept her off balance. He held her, then scooped her up, spreader bar and all, and carried her over to a still-dark corner of the room.
She was aware that the surface under her was soft and warm as he laid her face up. Once again he took her wrists and raised them over her head, stretching her arms to fasten them; this time she could not bend them at all. Nor did she have the strength to.
He lit a few more candles now and in the increased light, she realized she was not on a bed, as she had surmised, but on a high table covered with a thin mattress. He secured the spreader bar to the table, then moved out of her sight for a moment. When he returned, he again carried something in his hand.
“You need to learn obedience to my commands. You need to learn who is in control tonight.” He held up a small, butterfly-shaped object. “Do you know what this is?”
She shook her head no, and he bent down closer. “What was that?”
“No, Sir, I do not know what that is,” she murmured, nervousness making her voice tight.
“It is a clitoral stimulator. Let me show you.” He reached between her legs and her back arched in response. “Yes, I know you are eager. But not yet.” He placed the butterfly in its position against her sex then turned it on to its lowest setting.
She gasped as the vibration sent its waves through her entire being. Her arousal began to grow again. She writhed on the table, trying to get the pressure she needed in order to come.
“Do you wish to use your safeword? Know that if you do, I will let you come now. Say the word and you can come and then I will take you home.”
She looked at him, long and hard. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted earlier? He stood there, not gloating over her, but genuinely concerned for her. He brushed a hair from her face and the tenderness in his touch moved her. “I don’t want to say my safeword, Sir.” She was surprised at how easily the title came.
“Do you like being in my control?” He smiled kindly at her and she smiled back, surprised at her own answer. “Yes, Sir.”
“Very good. But I am afraid you still will not come. Not until I say so.” Using the straps attached to the small machine, Phillip fastened the stimulator against her body. He turned a knob and the vibrations grew slightly more intense. Sarah had not only withstood, but seemed to enjoy the light breast bondage and the light flogging—but could she handle his demand for total control of her body as to command her orgasm? Deciding to push this limit as far as he could, he turned and blew out all but one candle. “And now I must leave you for a bit, my dear. Enjoy.”
What? He was leaving her like this? Her body stretched on a table and unable to come? She had played his game, where was he going? The vibrations coming from her clit made her breathless and her cry was strangled with despair and arousal. Sarah watched as Phillip sauntered to the door with the one remaining candle, blowing it out as he reached it. In the sudden darkness, she heard the door shut.
It is said that the mind is the body’s most sexual organ and Sarah’s was working overtime. What if he never came back? What i
f something happened to him out there and he needed help? Each fear only added to her feeling of helplessness, which fueled her need, which heightened her desire. She lost track of time—alone in the dark, she squirmed on the table, trying to find relief. Her breath came in short gasps and tears fell from the sides of her eyes. The moans of before were now whimpers.
Listening to her in the darkness of the room quickened the blood in his veins. His stomach tightened as he realized how much she was enjoying this. Never before had he had a partner who so quickly gave her trust the way Sarah had tonight. Granted, it had been a while since she’d been with her husband—and Phillip knew she’d been with no man since. But still, she responded to his commands as if being dominated was a deeply-held secret she now let her body reveal.
Beside her ear he whispered in the dark, “You will only come on my command. I control your body, I control your mind.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, not even realizing she’d changed his title.
Inside his heart, he smiled. “You may come now.” With his hand, he pressed the butterfly up against her body. Her reaction was immediate and violent. Wave after wave crashed over her, through her. Conscious thought fled and she knew only the pleasure of the waves that carried her as her body convulsed time and time again.
How long her climax lasted, she had no way of knowing. Exhausted at last, she lay limp on the table, unable to move. Dimly she realized he had brought her hands to her sides, and taken away the bar between her ankles.
“Here, my slave, drink this.” She felt his arm under her head and shoulders, lifting her. A cup was in his hand but she could not take it from him; she had no strength left at all. He held it to her lips so she could drink. “Water. Just clear, cool water.”
Phillip laid her back on the table so he could remove the butterfly. Once done, he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her out of the room; he would not be taking her home just yet. The poor woman was exhausted. Instead, he carried her to his bedroom, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. Crawling into bed beside her and pulling the covers over them, he felt protective of her as her body folded itself against his own, snuggling her body to his warmth.
She lay contented. Never before had she had such an intense orgasm. Still basking in the wonder of it, she drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
The sound of a bird’s call outside the window woke Sarah in the morning. Sunlight streamed through the window and she stretched, forgetting for a moment where she was. But the feel of cuffs around her wrists made her stiffen as she remembered. The entire night came back to her in a flash: the bondage, his dominance and control over her; her begging for release, the incredible climax. All Sarah had wanted was a romp in the bedroom; she certainly had not intended to stay the night. However, after last night’s activities, it was probably best that Phillip had not taken her directly home.
Throwing the covers back, she checked her ankles. Same as her wrists; cuffed, but not fettered.
“How are you this morning?”
Sarah looked up to see him leaning against the doorway, already showered and fully dressed. She had been too far into her own need to come last night to fully appreciate the physique of the man who controlled her. His frame filled the doorway with his wide shoulders and imposing height. A shirt now covered his strong chest muscles, the sight of which had actually registered in one part of her brain while the rest of her was busy. She appreciated anew the straight line of his clean-shaven jaw and the aquiline profile of his nose. Was it possible such a handsome man was really interested in her? Or was he only after one thing? Naked before him, she resisted the urge to pull the covers over her again. Smiling to cover her sudden nervousness, she answered his question, “I’m fine. Thank you.” Was she still supposed to say ‘Sir?’
“Not sore?” Phillip came in to sit beside her on the bed.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t. She shook her head and made room for him to sit. His nearness caused her breath to quicken; to her knowledge, he had not come the night before. Well, she was ready to do her part. He’d been incredible and had showed her parts of herself she’d never even known existed. How she felt about that, she would think about later.
He reached out and caressed her breast with the back of his finger. The nipples already stood out straight from the sudden chill when she had thrown off the covers, but now they hardened at his touch. Sarah remembered the game they’d been playing the night before; the cuffs were testament to that. Time to find out how far this game went. Putting on a demure demeanor, she knelt on the bed and affected a meek tone. “What would Master like this morning?”
He laughed at her playacting. “You would make a fine slave, my dear.” He leaned in to pull her earlobe with his lips and whispered, “You do know that, don’t you?”
She bent her head towards him, feeling the desire brewing inside her. His touch turned her to jelly all over.
But then he pulled back, and she realized he held a key in his other hand. Deliberately, he took first one wrist and then the other, unlocking the cuffs, removing them and Sarah looked at him in confusion. When all four cuffs lay beside them on the bed, he took her hands in his and addressed her directly. It was time to lay it on the line to her.
“I would like very much for you to be my slave. But you need to realize I am not asking you to play a game, and there would be no playacting. If you agree, I will be your Master—in every sense of the word.”
Sarah looked deeply into his eyes for signs that this was a joke. But all she saw was an open honesty, and that raw power she had glimpsed the night before. Her brow furrowed with yet-unasked questions. He held a finger to her lips, silencing her.
“If you accept, it will not affect your outward life. Your co-workers need never know. In fact, you do not even need to give up your apartment; you’ll continue to live there during the week. But on Friday nights, you would come here, and leave from here on Monday mornings. During that time, you would be mine and would follow my commands.”
Phillip understood the risk he was taking. It was quite possible the woman would bolt at his proposal. But after her responses last night, he was in danger of becoming emotionally involved, and his heart was too much to risk in another fruitless relationship.
He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Take your shower now, and think about it. The offer will be open for a while.” He walked to the door, then turned and smiled, his manner not betraying his inner turmoil. “I release you from your promise of last night. I will not command you in this. It is a decision you must weigh carefully. But know that I will take care of you—my slave.”
His words rang in her ears. “My slave.” She considered his proposal as she readied for her shower. The bathroom was just off the bedroom and she ran the water hot as she thought. “My slave.”
Stepping into the shower, she threw her head back, letting the water cascade over her body. Now she examined her breasts for marks made by the ropes last night. There were none. Her ankles had a thin, red line where the cuff had pressed her during the night. The same on her wrists. And she could not deny the fact that she had enjoyed herself.
But what did that say about her? She, who had so prided herself on her independence, on her ability to lead, was actually considering being a slave? Voluntarily? She must be nuts!
Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and toweled dry. She wrapped her hair in one towel, and took another one to wrap around her. No, she could not agree to this. The only reason she’d even come home with him last night was because she’d been feeling so naughty. And surprisingly, she had no regrets. It had been a wonderful night and she had to admit, she loved the bondage. But to actually be a slave? No. She finished her toilette and walked back into the bedroom.
The bed had been made while she was showering. Neatly placed on the coverlet were the cuffs she’d worn before, their open locks dangling from the closure. Sitting on the bed, she picked one up, turning it over in her hands. Th
ere was no denying the desire they provoked. To be cuffed, to be owned by one man—a Master. She sighed. There was something wonderful in that thought. No worries, no decisions. Only pleasing him.
She saw her clothes neatly folded on a chair in the corner. She ignored them for the moment and firmly tucked the bath towel around her. Picking up the two wrist cuffs, locks and all, she went to find him.
Finding the kitchen was easy enough. She walked over to where he sat at the small table. “I can’t believe it, but I am actually considering your proposal.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking her over. She was chewing her bottom lip, holding the two cuffs as if she were weighing them against her own independence. He would not rush her. After the very first date, he had known this woman had possibilities, and after last night, he was sure. Yes, he wanted her. He wanted her to be completely his to subjugate and control. But he only wanted her if she were willing.
“Give me the cuffs.” He was pleased when she handed them to him without hesitation. Now he weighed them before her as she stood. “Give me today. Be my slave without question for the next twenty-four hours. Audition me, if you like. If tomorrow morning you wish to leave, then we will part as friends.” He looked deeply into her eyes.
“I will even ask you to keep your safe word for this time. But know, if you agree to be my slave after tomorrow morning, you must trust me completely.”
It was a fair offer. She had no plans for the day—and no date for the night. Instead of a quiet, relaxing weekend, she was getting something far more intriguing. Could she do it? Could she be a slave for a whole day? This arrangement would give her a better glimpse into what she might expect from him. She smiled, “I accept.” She held out her wrists to him. “For the next twenty-four hours.”