Dominance and Submission - Write Away, Sir

by Alexandra Noir

  The point in the story she had rage-quit at had been just when the male dominant had been holding a whip. She had never really used a whip before, but she could imagine what it looked like – long and thin, a little scary. The woman had been on her knees before him, and she found herself slipping into that role in her head, on to the cool wooden floor of the apartment the scene had been taking place in.

  "Are you ready, pet?"

  The sound of that voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she clicked the vibrator on and began to massage it against her clit. And she realized that she had assigned that voice to someone specific. In her fantasy, she raised her eyes to look up at the man above her, and found that it was none other than Cameron.

  Instead of a shock of panic, she felt peace at the thought of him controlling her like that. Didn’t he take that control all the time anyway? He was in charge of her at work, and in some odd way, it made sense to her to hand over a similar kind of charge to him in her fantasies. No, not fantasies – research.

  The whip was hanging there in his hand, and he was wearing that same suit that he’d had on the very first day they’d met. She was naked – no, naked except for a pair of panties that were tied around her mouth to keep her quiet. The detail sent a start through her system, and she found the thought of it turned her on. Gagged, silent, able only to go along with what he wanted for her. It was actually pretty hot...

  He guided his hand down to her shoulder and gently pushed her to her knees, so that she was on all fours below him. He trailed the whip over her shoulders, across her neck, taking his time and teasing her with it mercilessly. The vibrator was buzzing busily between her thighs, and she found herself grinding back against it eagerly, her body reacting to the visions running through her head.

  In her minds’ eye, the first crack of the whip would come down on the back of her thighs, the fleshy part that cushioned at least some of the blow. She let out a cry against the panties stuffed into her mouth, but it was muffled, and she knew that he wouldn’t much care about it anyway. He just wanted to see her suffer, wanted to see how far he could push her before she gave in. She wasn’t sure what giving in would look like exactly, but she knew that it was going to be intense, for the both of them.

  He ran the whip up the inside of her thighs, guiding it over that sensitive spot where her labia met her legs, and she wriggled and groaned and pushed herself back against it. He was so fucking good at this. All those times that he had teased her and tormented her and pushed her in the office, how could she have ever imagined that it would have been so hot for her to give away her power to him outside of it? He let the whip lick over her clit, just briefly, her cunt so soaked to the touch that the leather slid easily over her pussy.

  And then, as though to contrast the brief shock of pleasure that he had allowed her, he brought the whip down once again on her skin – this time, directly across her ass, leaving a thin strip of agony burning across her skin. She cried out, the sound muffled by the panties, but she knew that he still didn’t care. He wanted to see her suffer, wanted to see her squirm and plead for mercy, and wanted to ignore every call for reprieve.

  "I want to make sure you can’t even sit down tomorrow," he murmured, as he trailed the whip threateningly over her body once more. Something about the cruel, harsh tone to his voice made her body burn for him, her entire soul reacting to what he was saying to her. How could she respond to such a sadist? She was a fully-grown, independent woman, and yet here she was getting off on the thought of some man hurting her and hitting her and...

  The fantasy stretched out inside her head, as he scattered down blow after blow on her body, mercilessly covering her with thin, savagely sore welts until her thighs and her ass were completely coated. He really meant it when he said that he didn’t want her to be able to sit down the next day, and somehow that kind of artful cruelty only served to push her to higher levels of ecstasy.

  When he finally laid off with the whip, she was panting, her brow furrowed and her teeth clenched against the panties in her mouth once more. She wanted to cry out in pain, but she knew that would just be giving him what he wanted, and she couldn’t quite allow herself to lean into that yet. Something about being pushed this far and still deny him what he so clearly desired – her submission, the retraction of her control – made her feel powerful and powerless in the same moment.

  "How are you coping, pet?" he asked, and it wasn’t a gesture of care but rather a taunt, meant to unsettle her further. She looked up at him and groaned, her arms aching where she had been holding herself up on them for so long.

  He crouched down before her and hooked the panties away from her mouth, letting her breath easy again. She gasped for air, and he grinned at her discomfort.

  "Tell me what you want," he ordered her. She bit her lip. If she said it, would he just deny her that to torment her further? She decided it was worth the risk – she couldn’t hold back any longer. She needed him to know it.

  "I want you to fuck me," she breathed, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. He grasped her chin in his hand and smiled down at her, cruelty flashing in his dark eyes. She swore she had never seen them darker before.

  "Call me by my name," he demanded. She closed her eyes, reached back into the annals of her memory, and found what she was looking for. Opening them once more, she looked at him and spoke with certainty.

  "Master."

  He smiled at her, not allowing it to reach his eyes, and moved behind her. Sliding his fingers over her pussy, he parted her legs, spreading her wide so that he could get all the access he needed.

  "Taste yourself," he ordered, and he reached around and guided his fingers into her mouth. She moaned at the taste of her own perfume on his hand, at the taste of the two of them together at last. With his other hand, he pushed her thighs apart, and she heard him unzip his pants. And then, a moment later, his cock was at her slit, and he was slowly, slowly, slowly guiding himself all the way into her until his entire length was buried deep inside her-

  "Ah!” Stephanie cried out, coming back to the real world with a jolt. She was coming, hard, her body trembling on the bed as the sensation rushed through her. The vibrator was buzzing against her clit, and her skin was prickling from head to toe as she tried to make sense of the explosive feelings that were moving through her system. She clamped her thighs around the toy and imagined it as Cameron, as his body against hers, and the orgasm lingered and extended in her until she was gasping for air.

  When she eventually flopped back down on to the bed, catching her breath, she was surprised by the sound of the door opening – she stuffed the vibrator beneath the pillow and turned over to see Jon wandering into the room, yawning, looking slightly confused.

  "You all right?” he asked. "I heard you make a noise in here..."

  "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine," she assured him quickly. "Just...had a bad dream, that’s all."

  "You want to talk about it?” he asked, furrowing his brow with concern. She shook her head and quickly climbed out of bed.

  "I think I need to get back to work," she replied. "But thanks for checking on me."

  "Oh – uh, all right," he replied, and he seemed even more confused as she brushed by him and out of the room, heading back to the closet they had turned into her office when they had moved in. Her mind was racing. She had a whole lot to work with now.

  As soon as she got back to her desk, she booted up her computer and started to type. Her head was full of ideas, and her pussy was still pulsing with the intensity of what had just happened. As her fingers flew over the keys, she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she had just done to herself – she had masturbated to the thought of her boss fucking her, dominating her, taking control of her. That was so many levels of wrong she could barely wrap her head around it.

  She had never seriously considered an attraction to Cameron before, but she supposed, in a purely theoretical sense, that he was pretty hot. He was her boss too, an
d there was a power dynamic there that a whole lot of pornos had been built around, right? She wasn’t out here on her own feeling this attraction, that was for sure. But at the same time...thinking about him doing that to her, thinking about herself on her knees and subservient to him, had made her come harder than she could remember doing in months. All of Jon’s careful attention had never been enough to get her to come like that.

  She decided to focus all her energy on getting this book written – her deadline was coming up, and she needed to turn in something that resembled a decent copy by then or else she was going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. She let her mind flicker back to her fantasy and tried to recapture those feelings and pour them on to the page. She wasn’t sure that she had done a perfect job, but within a couple of hours, she was finished, and that was all that mattered.

  Leaning back from the computer, she let out a satisfied sigh and sent the file off to Cameron for him to take a look at. It was done. She was done. Apart from the fact, you know, where she had just made herself come while thinking about her boss doing dirty, deviant things to her. But she would file that one away for now, for dealing with at some point in the future when her brain wasn’t fried from writing all day long.

  She wandered back out to the living room, and saw Jon half-asleep on the couch, Dreamer on his lap. She could have woken him up and suggested they order in some food for the day, zone out in front of a movie. But, if she was being honest with herself, that was the last thing she was actually interested in right then. Her brain was overfull, and she needed to release some of that tension.

  So, instead of waking him up, she slunk back off through to the bedroom and grabbed her vibrator from where she had stashed it. This was all in the name of research, right? At least, that’s what she told herself as she reclined on the bed once more and let her brain drift to the thought of Cameron, cruel and calm and controlling, standing above her, making sure that she knew that he was the one in control.

  Part 2: Creative Juice

  "Jon, can you just try-"

  "No, but I’m already - from this angle, I can’t reach-"

  "Ugh." Stephanie moved away from her boyfriend and let out a groan. She knew she was acting a bit like an entitled bitch, but she was irritated, dammit, and she wanted to get where she needed to go with this.

  "Are you okay?" Jon asked, and she curled up on her side on the bed, facing away from him.

  "I think we should take a break," she suggested. "I need a shower or something. Get some of this off me..."

  She gestured down to the whipped cream residue that was sitting on her lower belly. Jon had done his best to clean it off with his mouth, but it had been too ticklish and she had found herself consistently breaking out into giggles and pushing him off. And yeah, that had pretty much defined the rest of their evening too.

  All of this had started because of one measly little email that Stephanie had received earlier that day. It was from her editor, Cameron, and it was regarding the BDSM novel she had recently written for him. She had been convinced that she had done a pretty good job, but his email declared something totally different, and she couldn’t help but feel a little offended.

  "He said that it seemed as though I didn’t know what I was writing about," she complained to her boyfriend, Jon. "I’ve never had this problem with working for him before..."

  "Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it," Jon tried to console her. "I know it’s hard to hear, but maybe he’s got a point?”

  "What do you mean?” she snapped back. She knew being a bitch to him wasn’t going to help matters, but she was annoyed, dammit, and she was going to take it out on someone.

  "I mean, you haven’t really done any stuff like that before, have you?" he pointed out. "You...I mean, us in the bedroom, it’s never been that...."

  He was trying to find the right words to say what he needed to without coming across as rude. It wasn’t working.

  "Are you saying that I’m boring in bed?” she replied, raising her eyebrows at him. Maybe he had a point, but he was hardly one to talk – he was about the least imaginative lover she had ever had. And that included the cheeky little fantasy she had indulged about her boss, Cameron, a few days before.

  "No, just that you haven’t had any experience with...you know, kinky stuff. Not at least as long as you’ve been with me," he pointed out.

  "Then we need to try something," she declared. He must have seen that look in her eyes because he didn’t argue. She grabbed his hand and guided him to the bedroom, and decided to put some of what she had learned writing that book to the test. Maybe Cameron was right, maybe she did need to use a little practical experience to bring this book to life...

  When it came to their bedroom routine, Jon and Stephanie were pretty set in their ways. Usually, oral on one or both of them, then sex in either missionary or girl-on-top, and he would come and she would wait until he fell asleep afterwards to masturbate herself to her own orgasm. But this time, they were going to try something new, something neither of them had ever considered before.

  "Can you, like, pin my arms down?” she suggested, and he placed his hands half-heartedly over her wrists. The look on his face told her that he didn’t want to be doing this, and she withdrew her hands and crossed them over her chest.

  "You know, if you don’t want to do this-"

  "No, no, I can do this," he replied. "I’m just not used to it, that’s all. You need to tell me what to do."

  Well, that kind of defeats the point, Stephanie thought to herself, but she managed to keep the words from escaping her lips.

  "You could spank me, if you want," she suggested, and he balked at the thought.

  "I don’t want to hurt you like that."

  "Choke me?”

  "I don’t even know if I..."

  He reached out and put his hands around her throat, exerting the barest pressure before he withdrew, shaking his head.

  "I can’t do that," he replied. "I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t..."

  "Hey, it’s fine," she sighed, and she slithered out from underneath him. "Maybe we jumped in too much too soon. We can start out with other stuff, if that would be easier..."

  As she spoke, she didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she decided the best course of action was to just play this game and hope that these were some growing pains. Every night, they would retreat to their bedroom and try out something new – bringing food into their play, trying blindfolds, handcuffs, sex toys. But every time, something seemed to go wrong. She could never take Jon seriously when he was meant to be dominating her. She saw him hanging around the apartment all day in his underwear, sleeping with the cat on his chest and a box of cereal next to him. How could she look at that man and see some sexy beast who was meant to be in total control of her? It just didn’t make any sense.

  And so, every night ended up the same way. They would try out something new, and they would wind up with the giggles or making a mess or just plain-ass not enjoying it at all. Whatever they attempted, it always seemed to end up in one or both of them being disappointed.

  After she had returned from the shower that evening, she planted herself on the edge of the bed and picked up her phone. Jon was lying opposite her, Dreamer snuggled into his side.

  "You know, I just don’t think I’m cut out for this kinky stuff," he remarked. "It just doesn’t do anything for me."

  "Right," Stephanie muttered.

  "But it’s the same for you, right?" he continued. "You’re just doing this for the story, aren’t you? Not because you’re actually into it or anything..."

  "Sure," she replied, deciding it was best for now not to let him know about the fact that she had come harder than he had ever managed to make her when she’d been imaging her very own boss taking control of her in that way.

  "You want to watch something?" he suggested, but she waved her hand and looked at the email that had just pinged up on her phone. It w
as from Cameron; he was asking her to come in and visit him at the office so they could talk about where to take the project next.