Best Bondage Erotica of the Year

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  His cock is so deep, I feel it has become a part of me, that we’ve become one thing instead of two. At the same time, I can tell that he’s starting to get close. I’ve been tasting pre-ejaculate for some time now, and the taste is getting stronger. His cock is pulsing; I can feel the tiny veins throb powerfully against my tongue as I lick against his sides.

  I can hear the roar of an invisible crowd, can sense them rising to their feet.

  There’s an unexpected rumble in my cunt as Griffin triggers the egg inside of me, strong and sudden vibrations setting off an almost immediate detonation. I didn’t even notice him pick up the remote. Maybe he had it all along? I’m in a daze, my entire world has been my mouth and his cock, and now that world is colliding with the new world that’s exploding to life between my legs.

  My muffled moans turn to cries and snorts of exalted exhalation as I climax. My body tries to shake and twitch, but the sand embraces me so tightly that there’s no release for the energy. My orgasm ricochets around inside me, and the only exit it can find is through my throat, my mouth. My head tries to thrash, but Griffin’s grip is as strong as the Earth, as merciless as his cock. He relentlessly fucks my mouth, and the small torn fragments of my consciousness that aren’t completely obliterated by my orgasm, those parts of me are grateful that I’m holding the pose as I moan, that I’m still pleasing him.

  The crowd is on their feet, not just cheering, but screaming their adoration. The applause is deafening: clap, clap, clap, lap, lap, lap . . .

  I keep my tongue working, finding my breath enough to keep sucking, my mouth dancing in perfect unity with Griffin’s cock until he lets out a cry of his own, like the roar of the crowd. He lets loose . . .

  My mouth is filled with sea foam.

  My world is showered with white roses.

  The audience has never seen such a show.

  KNEEL

  Kate Allure

  “On your knees.”

  I lowered myself to the floor, ignoring the creaking in my joints. When no further instructions came, I didn’t attempt the open-thigh posture I’d seen here in this BDSM dungeon. I rested my hands on my thighs and waited.

  “Why do you want this? If you’re doing it because you think it’s what I want, then it’s a nonstarter.”

  I drew in a slow breath to calm myself and gazed up at her. “Because I want you.”

  “You have me. Now tell me why you want to train as my submissive.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I was getting frustrated. Almost angry. “We can’t take our relationship any farther unless I enter your world.”

  She folded her arms and stared down at me through narrowed eyes. Meredith was going to make her decree and I wasn’t going to like it.

  “No, wait!” I had to reach her somehow. “There’s more. You know there’s more.”

  “Then tell me, Sophie, exactly why you want this, or stop wasting my time.”

  I shut my eyes and huffed out my negativity in one big sigh. Forced it all out. If life’s shit could be turned into carbon dioxide, I had just shat out years of hurt, of anger, of feeling inadequate. I emptied my soul of the detritus of a failed marriage and the regrets of a life half lived.

  I slowly, carefully breathed in fresh oxygen. Made myself clean. Pure. Worthy.

  A toe tapped on the throne platform.

  I jumped up to pace the room liked a caged animal, emptying my secrets in rushed, stuttering sentences. “It’s not like . . . I’ve never been spanked . . . before. Or tied up. Or other stuff. But when my ex did it to me it was ugly.”

  Around and around, I circled, passing her like a racehorse. Or maybe like a woman trying to leave her past behind. “I let John fuck me however he wanted, hating it, because I knew he was cheating. Bringing home kinky tricks he’d learned elsewhere. When I didn’t get off on it, he called me a prude.”

  “Are you a prude?”

  “No!” I yelled, staring openly at her in a way no sub would dare, needing her to see the truth buried within me.

  Her eyebrow rose, and she looked glorious, every inch the stern taskmaster and queen-bee domme that had earned her fame and a successful dominatrix career in the LA scene.

  My eyes dropped and my tone turned meek. “Sorry. But it wasn’t fair of him to say I was a frigid bitch, because I couldn’t reach subspace no matter how much he beat me. Over our eight-year marriage we did plenty of crazy-ass shit, believe me. Drill-dos. Pop Rocks. Sex on a subway. Ever done that?” I threw it out like a challenge and glanced up under lowered lashes.

  Meredith smiled, her eyes knowing.

  “You? Of course you have.” I laughed and started pacing again. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “It wasn’t what he did that grossed me out or that he wanted to control me. I kind of liked D/s play. But every time he tied me up or spanked me or . . . anything, I imagined him doing it with his sluts.”

  Meredith’s expression darkened. “Sluts?”

  “I don’t mean because they liked bondage and shit. I mean because they were ‘the other women.’ A succession of others.”

  “Sophie, if this is about purging old hurts, you should see a therapist, but don’t expect me to heal you. I wouldn’t know how.”

  “No, please. I’m not explaining this well.” I rushed to her throne and my hands landed on her thighs, gripping her. “I can’t lose you. Please.”

  “You won’t lose me.” She patted my hand and smiled.

  I loved her gentle smile, the one that wasn’t her domme leer, although I liked that one too. There were many things I loved about petite, redheaded Meredith. Her green eyes I liked best of all. Intelligence lurked there, complex and intense, and it called to me, arousing me with the power of a mythical aphrodisiac. Even now, I could feel myself growing wet.

  She carefully removed my hands and stood up. “Follow.” She walked to her dungeon’s ornate couch and sat. It was scarlet, as was her wingback-chair throne, now empty and forlorn.

  “Is this your way of telling me no?”

  “Take a seat, would you? Your pacing is unpleasant to watch.” She patted the red leather.

  I sat on the opposite side, my body rigid and my mind tense.

  “I haven’t heard anything, Sophie, that tells me this is the right move for us. We can go on as before. Friends with yummy vanilla benefits who meet a few times a year. Perhaps, sometime in the future, when you’re ready.”

  “No. Meredith! You only train one sub at a time. Keep only one. If I miss this opening, it could be years before you need another.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “RJ lasted two years. I can’t wait another two years.”

  Holding my gaze, Meredith crawled hand over hand on the couch to perch like a shiny-latex-wearing kitty next to me. She lowered her face, and I turned eagerly to meet her mouth. Warm and soft, her lips played over mine. Caressed mine. My body reacted, growing hot and needy, my nipples budding.

  I moaned, and she slid her tongue into my mouth. Our tongues tangled and teased, and my hands rose to her ginger locks, loving the feel of her frizzy curls sliding through my fingers. Releasing me, she bent down and nipped one of my breasts through my thin top. I threw back my head and moaned louder. After two years of sporadic friends-with-benefits sex, she knew what aroused me, what would turn me to putty in her hands.

  Meredith pulled free and leered. “See,” she murmured, her voice a sexy purr. “We don’t need kink to enjoy each other.”

  She put one finger to my lips, warning me to be silent, before reclining back. Meredith arranged herself, smoothing her black latex skirt with her hands and tugging her sexy bustier down, her ample bosom threatening to wardrobe malfunction. My mouth watered at the chance to suck her tits.

  “Sweet Sophie, I’m concerned that if we do this and it doesn’t work, it will ruin our special connection. End our friendship. I invest a great deal of myself into training each novice. When it doesn’t work out . . . Well, you’ve seen for yourself.” Her
eyes implored me. “It would be terribly painful, if we part ways after we’ve started this journey.”

  This was it. Once issued, Mistress Strong never reversed a decree. It was one of her rules, of which she had many. My chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe, and my ears buzzed with all the things still unsaid. I wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging myself against the cold fear of her rejection. “Give me five more minutes. Please.”

  She glanced at the grandfather clock. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “Five. No more.”

  “Your friendship these past eleven years has meant so much to me. But that day in the park two years ago, when you up and kissed me, when we became more than just friends, that was the best day of my life. I love you.”

  “I love you too. You know that, don’t you?”

  I nodded, and she pulled me closer, plopping a quick kiss on my lips. “Do you understand why I’m against taking this risk?”

  “Yes, but I can’t go on like this. Watch you again devote yourself to another.”

  I eased away to look into her eyes. They were moist and wary.

  I’d reached a point of no return. Like a knife, the sharp prick of it ached. It would gouge me if she rejected me, but doing nothing would pierce me with incremental nicks until my heart bled dry.

  “Meredith, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be just your friend with sometimes benefits. It hurts too damn much watching you share that dominant side of yourself with another. I don’t want to share any part of you.”

  She stiffened, opened her mouth to speak, but this time it was I who put a finger to her lips. “I wouldn’t interfere in your career as a pro-domme, but I want to explore every part of what it means to belong to you.”

  Her tense expression wavered between doubt and desire. “We live five hours apart.”

  “I could move to LA. My job’s portable.”

  “You do realize that if we do this we won’t be equals anymore. I would control everything.”

  “I crave submitting to you. It’s a hunger that’s eating me from the inside.”

  “But you’re not out. What about your family?”

  “I’m ready to tell the world I’m bi.”

  She opened her mouth again, but I cut her off. “You’re making excuses, Meredith.”

  Tears sparkled at the corners of her eyes. My domineering, control-freak BFF looked ready to bolt.

  “I can’t lose you,” she cried, the mournful sound like the wail of an animal caught in a trap.

  “Don’t be scared. I’m here and I won’t abandon you. Look at me.” I put my hands on either side of her face, forcing her to see me.

  It was weird taking control, being the strong one. I didn’t want it, but it was necessary. “Please hear me, my love. I want more than anything to be your submissive. I feel this deep need to serve you. I want whatever you desire to give me. Bondage. Humiliation. Punishment. Even pain. Becoming this for you will free me, will let me love you with every part of me, and I am not afraid, not in the least. I trust that as my domme, you’ll keep me safe because I know that you love me as much as I love you. Please, Meredith. Please, say yes.”

  It was up to her now, not because she was dominant, but because in any real relationship both people must want it. Both be willing to sacrifice. Be willing to risk everything.

  I waited, holding my breath.

  Emotions traversed her face as she travelled through fear, bewilderment, longing, and lust. And hope. At last, hope!

  She smiled.

  “Meredith, is that a yes?”

  “It’s Mistress Strong to you from now on,” she declared, her tone stern.

  Joy brighter than morning sunshine flared within me. “Yes, Mistress Strong.” I dropped my gaze to my lap, following rules I’d learned observing Meredith with her subs.

  “I’m glad the club is closed tonight, because your training begins now. Stand and strip.”

  I scrambled to obey. It wasn’t elegant, but, hey, I was in training, right? I knew that when Mistress was done with me, I’d be elegant, obedient, peaceful—perfect!

  Mistress moved to her throne, and I followed like a happy puppy. She eased into a reclining pose, looking every inch the domineering queen I’d secretly admired for years. Finally, I would become her subject.

  I kicked off my sandals and shimmied out of my jeans.

  “Stop! Do it slower. In every task you perform, use the opportunity to please and arouse me.”

  I began again, moving languidly. Giving her my back, I drew my top off and tossed it aside. Turning my head to watch her watching me, I reached behind to undo my bra and slowly slid it from my shoulders. While we’d been sometimes lovers for a couple of years, this felt different. Her eyes raked over my body. She judged me now. Owned me now. I wanted to make her thrum with excitement. I wanted to make her proud.

  I teased my panties down slowly and rotated to face her, loving the hunger in her eyes.

  “Stand in my display position. Eyes to the floor. Arms boxed behind you. Push out your breasts so I can admire them and part your legs in offering to me.”

  I complied as best I could to the awkward pose, finding it surprisingly demeaning.

  “You should offer your gratitude for my effort in training you.”

  I’m doing all the work. I barely stopped myself from saying it aloud.

  Like a snake undulating around my naked body, doubt slithered into my thoughts. I shivered, realizing that it wasn’t going to be so easy subsuming my will 24/7.

  Shaking her head, Meredith tsked at me.

  “Thank you, Mistress Strong.” I made my voice pleasant, soft and sweet as a spring breeze. “I will try with all my heart to make you proud to call me your sub.”

  “I’m not going to take this slow or make it easy on you. It’ll be better to know immediately, like ripping off a Band-Aid, if we’ve made a mistake.” The last held a note of pain, but when she spoke again her voice was unyielding steel.

  “I will be proud to call you mine when everything about you reflects positively on me. Some nights, you’ll be on display assisting me here in the dungeon, and your behavior, your grooming, your voice, even your orgasms will demonstrate my skill as a domme.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “You need to hear all of it. What it means to be Mistress Strong’s submissive. I’m a bit of a sadist and like inflicting pain. I can’t wait to see your reactions. Tears. Begging. Stoicism. Screams. It’s all good. I’ll find your limits and then push them. Are you willing to explore sadomasochism with me?”

  I shuddered, unable to control myself. I had an extremely low pain tolerance. Even fainted over vaccines. But I had to trust her or this wouldn’t work. Girding myself, I mentally jumped the cliff. “Yes, Mistress. If it pleases you, it will please me.”

  “You’ll serve me in whatever capacity I require, from the easy, preparing a bubble bath, to the extreme, wearing nothing but a bit and a pony tail and pulling me in a parade.”

  I gasped, shock trembling up my spine. I hadn’t seen her subs do that.

  “Well?” Her tone demanded I comply or capitulate with my metaphorical tail between my legs.

  “Yes, Mistress. I will learn to be proud to be your show pony. To be anything and everything you want or need me to be.” I yearned to look up to see if my answer pleased her, but I forced myself to obey her eyes-down order.

  “Your most important duty will be to give me sexual pleasure through the use of your body. I’m going to push you to try new perversities. I’ll reward you with orgasms, but you must earn them. My pleasure, however, is a given. You’ve asked for this new relationship, and you must understand and accept that we’re no longer equals. At least, not in my dungeon. Do you want this, subbie?”

  “Yes, Mistress. With all my heart.” Glad tears filled my eyes. “I’ll be the best damn sub you’ve ever had!”

  “When you displease me or break my rules, you’ll be disciplined. I won’t go easy. You’ve heard everythi
ng now. Will you promise to give all of you to me, holding nothing back?”

  “Fuck yes, Mistress Strong. Yes!” I broke ranks and rushed to her, dropping to her feet. I put my lips to her patent-leather boots, trailing kisses up her leg, murmuring over and over, “Always, I promise.”

  Mistress gently eased me off her. “You disobeyed my order to stand in display. Further, my subs are beautiful decorations, who never swear. Go climb onto the spanking bench.”

  I gasped. So soon? I forced myself to walk there, my breath coming in pants. I didn’t like pain.

  No, I do like pain. Just not a lot of it.

  With ruthless efficiency, Mistress strapped me down. “We’ll work out safewords later. For now, just say ‘red’ if you need me to stop.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” There was no way I’d stop her doing anything to me. I vowed to push myself more than she ever could.

  I lay belly down on the angled bench, my ass high, and my forearms belted to armrests. The kneelers spread my thighs wide, the cool air wafting across my pussy reminding me that I was exposed. Vulnerable.

  Mistress trailed a finger down my back, teasing my skin with a barely there caress. She patted my buttocks, as if testing their receptivity. I tilted my ass upward, offering them to her. Then her hand slid under me to cup my sex, squeeze it. Her touch felt different this time, unyielding, like she was taking ownership.

  “Yes. Yes!” I whispered, melting onto the bench, dripping onto her hand.

  She pulled free and put her hand to my mouth. I eagerly licked my musk from her fingers. Lust curled outward from my core, demanding that I beg her to put off spanking me so we could make love like we always had. But that wasn’t her plan, and in our new relationship her plan was all that mattered. I kissed her fingers when they were clean.

  Mistress walked to her wall of implements and studied them.

  I stopped breathing. Please, not the cane. I’m not ready for that.

  The air trapped in my lungs released when she selected a leather paddle.