Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial Book 1)

by Amy Valenti

  No orgasms until I get back, little miss. That’s an order.

  I flopped down on the couch, trying to resist the temptation to press my thighs together for stimulation. Do I get to say the same for you, Sir?

  A minute passed before his response came back. I’m not even out of the parking lot yet and you’re being a bratty girl? Keep this up and I’ll stay vanilla on you for an extra month.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, and sent back an emoticon of a virtuous angel, complete with halo. Why was it that he could keep me in line even without a threat of violence?

  * * * *

  On Friday, I went to see Trish again. It seemed like forever since I’d gone to her about Callum, but it had been less than a week.

  Even with all that had happened and my delicate new acceptance of my submissive tendencies, I still got butterflies as I walked up to the front door. I guessed maybe I always would, given what had happened to make me come here in the first place.

  Trish was expecting me and opened it before I could input the code for the keypad.

  “Kat, come on in, honey.” Her smile was as warm and welcoming as ever, though she scanned my bare arms for bruises as I stepped past her into the shelter.

  “No Rochelle today?” I asked, gesturing to the empty bench.

  “She and her mother have moved on. Got their own little apartment and everything.” Trish beamed like a proud mother and began to make coffee. Not much changed around here.

  “I’m glad.” I hadn’t met Rochelle’s mom, but the little girl had left an impression on me. I hoped she’d be okay.

  Trish and I got settled in her office again. I would have been happy to talk in the kitchen, but if what I was about to say was overheard and taken the wrong way by any of the women staying here, I’d never forgive myself.

  “How are you?” Trish asked.

  I smiled. “I’m good. I’m really good.”

  “Get that man out of your hair?” she said, her tone implying that she thought I must have done.

  “Actually, no. I accepted him as my Dominant.”

  Her eyes widened, and although she was subtle about it I could tell she was reassessing me for trauma and injuries.

  “Trish, it’s okay. He’s a really good guy.”

  Her doubts were obvious, but she seemed willing to listen, at least.

  “I never researched this stuff before I was abused, and afterwards I was scared to. I used to walk away from conversations that had anything to do with it, and I’d always stop reading things that mentioned it when I came across it accidentally. I didn’t know what a huge network the BDSM community is, and how seriously they take their safety.” I explained about everything I’d learned online, and the articles I’d read about the difference between BDSM and abuse. “Callum, my Dom—he’s a responsible Dominant. He’s refused to do anything that might trigger my panic attacks, and I’ve been the one begging him to do more to me. There’s a lot of stuff I won’t be able to handle, but he’s made me write it all down so he knows not to overstep my boundaries.”

  Trish took all this in quietly, her eyebrows arching every now and then when I said something she found surprising. When I went quiet, she took a breath and let it out slowly.

  “I don’t know anything about any of that, but from what you’ve said about your new man, he’s careful with your emotions at least. For your sake, I hope—I really hope—that you’re right about him. All I care about is that you’re safe, honey.”

  Affection welled up in me; she really meant it. “I know, Trish. That’s why I wanted to come and tell you about it. It might not help any of the other women who come here, but maybe it will. I figured at least I could tell you that BDSM as a concept isn’t the problem. It’s all down to the people doing it. So if you see another woman come through and she talks about liking the same things I do, maybe you can tell her she’s not broken.”

  She took both of my hands in hers and squeezed, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were, Kat. That was never my intention.”

  “Oh, I know!” I stood up and hugged her impulsively. She’d been so supportive of me and I almost felt like a traitor for going in a direction that involved violence, in a way that she hadn’t considered was possible.

  It was hard for me to classify what I wanted to achieve from this visit. Closure, and to plant a few seeds of knowledge, maybe.

  I had run blindly from a part of myself because I hadn’t understood the difference between a submissive and a victim. Maybe by giving some understanding to Trish, who was connected to abuse charities that no doubt looked upon BDSM with scorn, I could get the word out to a few more people who were as ignorant as I had been.

  If not, at least I was reassuring Trish that I was well and happy. It would probably take a few more visits for her to really believe me, but it would be time well spent.

  * * * *

  Callum

  I got the call on the way back to LAX. “Julian, what’s up?”

  “Are you sitting down?” my agent asked gleefully.

  There wasn’t enough air in the back of the cab all of a sudden. “I got the part?”

  “You nailed it!” He laughed as I just stared ahead of me, trying to process what this meant. “Are you gonna show me a little enthusiasm now, or what?”

  I’d never been the type to effusively proclaim my happiness about something, and after so long as my agent, Julian knew that. I just said, “Thanks for everything you’ve done to get me here. I really appreciate it.”

  “And from you, that’s actually not a bad endorsement.” He laughed again, no doubt already calculating his commission for the part he’d managed to land me. “Okay, I’m gonna go get drunk. I was on tenterhooks all afternoon waiting for the call. I need to relax, man.”

  “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you when this New York thing’s over with.”

  I hit the button to end the call and shook my head in disbelief. I’d known the audition had gone well, had seen the approving looks exchanged between the panel, but I hadn’t allowed myself to hope beyond that. It didn’t quite feel real.

  Without much thought, I brought up Kat’s entry in my contacts and waited for the call to connect.

  “Hey,” she said. “I thought you’d be on your way back by now. What’s going on?”

  “I got the part,” I told her, hoping that speaking the words would make it feel less dreamlike.

  “What? They got back to you already?” Kat’s voice was incredulous. “Fuck, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Thanks.”

  “Are you celebrating? Where are you?”

  The smile in her words was infectious, and I closed my eyes as I smiled back. “On the way to the airport.”

  “Well, that’s not very exciting.”

  “Then you’d better make it up to me when I get back, don’t you think, little miss?”

  Her breath caught. “I can think of a few ways I can help you celebrate, Sir.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that.” The airport loomed up ahead. “Right now, though, I have a flight to catch.”

  “See you in a few hours, superstar.”

  I laughed as we hung up. Kat’s reaction was exactly what I’d needed to kickstart my brain again, and the future was looking good. As the cab pulled up outside the departures terminal, I shifted in my seat, eager to get home.

  Home? I’d been in New York less than two weeks. When had it become home?

  Maybe home was wherever my little miss was.

  * * * *

  Kat

  There had been delays overnight, and it was nearly eight in the morning when Callum sent me a text message to tell me he was on his way back to my apartment. He’d sent me one last night to let me know not to wait up, so I’d had a fairly restful night despite my excitement at getting to be with him again.

  I got up and headed straight for the shower, being as quick as I could while still taking enough time to pretty m
yself up for my Dom. Once I was finished, I blow-dried my hair but didn’t bother to put on any clothing. I suspected whatever I was wearing would come off pretty quickly once Callum walked in.

  I got a text from him just as I was finishing up. Five minutes out.

  I couldn’t say for sure if there was an unspoken order in his message—make yourself ready for me—but it sure felt like it. Putting my bathrobe back on its hook, I quickly went into the living room and knelt, naked, within view of the front door.

  Time went by—more than five minutes, surely?—but I stayed in position, waiting as patiently as I could for him.

  Finally, I heard my spare key in the lock and couldn’t help but smile. Keeping my eyes on the floor in front of me but my head held high, I listened to him enter the apartment and set his overnight bag down on the floor. I couldn’t tell whether he’d noticed me yet; he didn’t say anything.

  My heart pounded when his feet appeared in my line of sight. A second later, the touch of his fingers against my scalp made me smile.

  “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” His voice held a smile. “I have to say, this is quite the welcome home. Did you miss me?”

  “I did, Sir.”

  “What did you do with Little Miss Badass? You’re very meek today. Is that because you want an orgasm, by any chance?”

  My cheeks heated. I’d been trying not to think about my orders not to masturbate, but now he’d drawn my attention to them, need flared sharply. “If that’s what would make you happy, Sir.”

  He twisted his fingers into my hair and pulled my head back to look into my eyes. God, he was handsome, even after flying from coast to coast. He had more stubble than usual and his hair was a little mussed. The look in his eyes was purely predatory, and a delicious shiver went down my spine.

  “Are you wet?”

  He always seemed to use the most direct questions to ascertain how I was feeling. I nodded, squirming.

  “And I can see already how hard your nipples are.” He ghosted his hand over the curve of my breast, his touch barely felt until he got to my protruding, hypersensitive nipple. Pleasure zipped down my nervous system to concentrate at my clit, which was already tingling.

  Callum tugged and twisted my nipple, increasing the intensity of his touches until I gasped out, my eyes filling with tears that blurred my view of his face.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss me, hot and hard. Before I had anywhere near enjoyed my fill of his lips, he pulled away.

  “Stay right where you are, little miss,” he ordered, and walked off somewhere.

  It was torture not to look around to see what he was doing. Instead, I closed my eyes and listened intently. Paper rustled and fabric brushed against fabric in a way that sparked an association in my mind. He’d sat down on the couch and was looking through my ‘homework’.

  It hadn’t given me too much trouble to complete, despite my mild misgivings about going through the list. The things my abuser had never done had been easy enough to give a green light to, unless they really didn’t appeal. There were only a couple I’d been on the fence about.

  The things he had done, though…those had been tougher, especially when I’d realised that I wanted to experience a lot of them under Callum’s hand, despite what had happened in the past. Not ball gags or hanging from the ceiling—those were definite nos—but things like being tied to furniture. Being caged was probably out, but despite my traumatic past I still found myself curious about canes. I’d told Callum earlier that they were a red, but when I’d been staring at the boxes, contemplating which to tick, I’d realised I wanted him to use one on me, so I’d know if there was a difference.

  A few minutes passed, long enough for me to want to fidget. I held still with an effort.

  “Crawl to me, little miss.”

  I glanced up for long enough to ascertain where he was—as I’d thought, on the couch—and crawled over. Every time he made me do that, I got pissed off but at the same time, turned on. It was a weird and wonderful dichotomy that I didn’t think would ever get boring.

  “Get comfortable,” Callum told me, gesturing to his lap, and I slid up to nestle within his arms with a sigh of contentment. I’d missed him holding me so much.

  He cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed me softly, drawing away before I could respond. “Thank you for doing your homework. I think I can put a very interesting scene together from this information.”

  I tried not to wriggle. “I’m glad, Sir. I want to do this for real.”

  “Oh, we will.” He was obviously pleased with whatever he’d come up with. “You’re lucky I brought a few things back with me.”

  Running his hand up and down the inside of my thigh, he teased ever closer to my aching pussy but always stopped short. “I think we might need to see how that gorgeous ass of yours reacts to my floggers. What do you think?”

  The prospect of new and interesting pain sent anticipation quivering through me. “When can we start, Sir?”

  He grinned and tugged at my hair. “Impatient little miss. You can wait in the bedroom for me to shower, and in the meantime I want you to do something for me.”

  At his instruction, I stood up and grabbed his overnight bag, then followed him into the bedroom. Callum took the bag from me and unzipped it, then turned his back when he caught me craning my neck to get a better look. “Maybe I should blindfold you, curious girl.”

  That was fine by me. I was just impatient to be doing something, anything, because he wanted it.

  “Kneel here.”

  I knelt by the side of the bed, a lot more gracefully than the first time I’d knelt for him. Maybe I wasn’t as good as I could be yet, but I was coming along.

  “If you need to take this off when I’m in the shower, you can, but only if you’d be safewording if I were in the room. Is that clear?”

  After obtaining my agreement, he fastened a silk scarf around my head, obscuring my vision. “Can you see at all?”

  “No, Sir.” I cleared my throat when my voice came out scratchy. “Not at all.”

  “What colour would you say you are right now?”

  I had to smile at his concern. “Very green, Sir.” The blindfold had taken away my sight, but that just made my other senses clearer and sharper. I wondered if the same would happen for my sense of taste. I longed to taste him again.

  “Now…”

  There was a rustle, a few clicks, and then a familiar whirring sound that made me hold my breath in anticipation.

  “Part your legs for me.”

  I did, already knowing what was about to happen and craving it so very much.

  Callum slid the vibrator between my pussy lips and held it there. It was small but powerful, and I gasped at the instant tension that snapped into my muscles at its touch on my clit, jerking away instinctively before pressing back against it so that it was easier to take.

  “Now close your legs again.”

  Had he given me an order? Hazily, I pressed my thighs together and Callum drew his hand back, leaving the vibrator in place. It was slightly less intense this way, but it was still driving me crazy, my hips shifting of their own accord.

  “Good girl.” He kissed me hard, then abruptly broke off contact with me altogether. “Don’t move while I’m in the bathroom. If you need to take off the blindfold you can, but if that vibrator isn’t still in position when I get back, there’ll be punishment.”

  I nodded, my focus squarely between my legs. It just felt so good…

  “And little miss? If you come, I will know. And you won’t like the consequences.”

  Damn him, damn him, damn him!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Callum

  It was almost torture to leave Kat naked and blindfolded in her room with a vibrator pressing against her clit. I got into the shower as quickly as I could, not wanting to spend more time than I had to testing her ability to obey while I wasn’t there.

  God, walking through
the door and seeing her kneeling, naked, waiting for my orders… It was something I could definitely get used to, and if I had my way, it would be happening at least three times a week, if not every day.

  As I soaped away the grime of the overly long and tedious journey from LA, I went over her ‘homework answers’ in my mind. Some things I definitely hadn’t been expecting, but I was more than willing to try. As I plotted the best way to draw out the experience, ignoring the demands of the hard-on I’d had since I’d walked through the door, my anticipation grew.

  It had been a tough task to get her to this point, and I’d still need to step carefully, but I’d be ready. I was ready.

  Shutting off the water, I towelled myself dry and walked naked back into the bedroom. Even before I got there I could hear Kat’s gasps and sighs, and the moment I saw her I knew she was close to losing it.

  “Have you been a good girl?” I asked, baiting her inner badass with the question.

  “You took your sweet time!” Blindly, she tilted her head in my direction. “I need to come, Sir, please…”

  Suppressing laughter, I crouched and plucked the soaked vibrator from its resting spot, then switched it off as Kat let out a frustrated groan. After depositing it to the side for possible later use, I turned my attention back to her.

  “Now, I know you didn’t mean to use that tone with your Dom, so I’m gonna let that one pass. But if you carry on this way, Little Miss Badass, I’m going to spank your ass until you can’t sit down for a week.”

  Kat paled, trembling a little, her shoulders hunching defensively. If she hadn’t said it, I would have paused the scene anyway, but she managed to get her slow word out. “Yellow.”

  Immediately, I crouched beside her, tugging off the blindfold so I could look into her face. She seemed to calm just at the sight of me.

  “Talk to me, Kat.” I cupped her face in my hand, wondering if she was thinking of her recovery period after she’d escaped her abuser. It was hard to keep her past in mind when she was bratting out for me so beautifully.