by Nicole Snow
“What do you mean more?”
“Have you ever been dominated by a man before, Ashley?” His question hit me between the eyes.
I couldn't answer for a few seconds. I was stunned.
I knew about BDSM and its practices. Hell, at some level, I'd always been curious. But none of the inexperienced boys I'd been with had drawn me into kink.
Not even Alan Winkman, who filled me with more raw flesh and empty promises than any man to date, and who'd promised to show me his big, nasty porn collection before dragging my name through the mud.
“Do you know what I'm asking you?” He said, a little louder than before, tightening his fingers around mine.
“Yes,” I managed. “I think...maybe I can do that. For you, I'm willing to try.”
“You'll do more than try, Ashley. You'll be great at it. You're a natural submissive. I can tell by the way your pulse beats so sweet beneath mine. The way your breath picks up and your skin bristles when I do this...”
He released my fingers and pushed his hand up my arm, sliding close to my elbow. I never knew a little patch of skin could jump as deliciously as a third nipple.
And God, what would my nipples feel like being pinched, sucked, and twirled in these hands?
He'd only given me the faintest taste at the party. And I wanted way more.
I shoved my thighs together, restless and already too deep in my surrender.
“You practically came for me on command in that room, and we weren't even fully undressed. I want to explore, beautiful, and find out the rest of what your tender little body will do for me.” He stopped on my upper warm, squeezing the lush pink flesh until the skin turned to ivory around his searing fingertips.
“When do you want to do this?” I said, somewhere between a stammer and a hiss.
“You're off tonight, aren't you?” His smile widened slowly as I nodded. “Good. Then go upstairs, get cleaned up, and we'll ride to my place. If all goes well, you'll have more than my ride purring between your legs tonight.”
Ah! I'm not going to come like a fool for him again.
I jerked up and pushed the chair away. Gabe tensed, but then relaxed as he saw me turn and quickly head upstairs.
All through the fastest shower I'd ever taken, I imagined him downstairs, stretched out on my kitchen table with a rock hard horn throbbing beneath his jeans. When I came down, clean and carrying a fresh change of clothes in my backpack, he was leaning near the screen door, eyes on me like bright crescent moons.
“Let's go.”
I'd never been on a motorcycle before.
I held on tight, just like he instructed, adding my own shaky pleasure to the vibrations cutting through me. My fingers pressed against his warm abdomen as tightly as they could.
The journey between our farms wasn't long. But hugged up against the most attractive man I'd ever touched in my life, it felt like it only lasted a minute.
When we pulled into his main dusty lot and ground to a stop, I didn't want to let go.
Gabe reached down and gently brushed my hand away. He turned and smiled.
“You are hungry, aren't you?” Ignoring my bashful response, he shifted his legs on the motorcycle until he sat facing me. “Let me help you up with a taste...”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I gushed, pouring my hot desire into his mouth, tongue blubbering into mush as his sank between my lips.
My inner fires leaped high, undaunted by the cooler afternoon winds blowing around us. At last, he let go, and helped me up to my feet with both hands.
I dropped my small backpack inside his entryway. Gabe's grip on my wrists only tightened once we were inside.
There was no breaking it, even if I wanted to. I loosened my feet, keeping up with his brisk pace. We walked all the way past the guestroom and the stairs leading to the basement, to a side of the house I hadn't seen where a curved staircase led up to the second floor.
I listened to the clack of my shoes on the wooden steps, right behind his boots. The booming clatter echoed on the walls, the same way my furious heartbeat thrummed in my bones.
I can't believe this is actually happening! But what's he got waiting up there?
When we came to the top, I exhaled sharply. At least I could pass off the blinding mix of anticipation and uncertainty mingling inside me as being winded from the steep climb.
“Come on. My bedroom's this way.”
The words ignited another shrill uptick in my pulse. I followed his lead, holding my breath as he pushed open an elegantly carved black door.
“Whoa! I didn't know your parents had so much custom woodwork in here.” I stared in awe, chin slightly lowered, taking in the smooth black furniture and the huge canopy bed in the middle of his room.
“They didn't,” he said, turning and tugging me into him with his hands. “I picked out everything to freshen up the Master Suite after they moved out. Even bought that door from a real artist, a German guy who settled in the little town closest to Uncle Steven's oil rigs.”
“Wow,” I said again. I turned in his arms, admiring the way his décor maintained a beautiful country charm while transplanting old world luxury straight to a lonely mountain ranch.
Then I looked past the bed, toward the windowless wall. I wasn't sure what I expected – maybe some family pictures, or another big set of cattle horns like the ones he kept downstairs.
Instead, he had a series of hooks housing what looked like ropes of different sizes, small leathery tools, and even a pair of handcuffs.
Gabe cleared his throat, making me meet his eyes. He knew that I knew.
Without missing a second, he walked forward, all the way to the wall. The cowboy hat came off and he rested it on the lone empty hook near the corner.
“Do you like them, Ashley? Everything on this wall means a lot to me. Every cord, every whip, every blindfold you see offers a different type of pain or pleasure. They're my best tools, ready for action. Always at my command.”
I forced myself to take a step forward. Sucking in a deep breath, I disciplined my fear, burying it beneath the goosebump inducing lust churning in my center.
Sorry, cowboy. I'm not much for grandstanding or guesses. I know you want a sign, a signal, and I'm going to give you one.
His eyebrows quirked up as I came within several inches and stopped. Slowly, I dropped my coat, then kicked off my shoes and socks.
My hands reached for the cold metal clasp to my jeans. I popped it and tore down the zipper, arcing my hips back and forth as I shook the denim away like a husk.
My panties clung tight, a small pink shield stained with sopping wet heat.
I didn't hide it. Not this time. I wanted to see what he did to me, offering myself to him the way a woman in heat should. I didn't know much about being a submissive, but it had to begin with sacrifice.
“I'm yours,” I whispered, turning and pushing my backside into him.
I pumped my hips backward, grinding against his crotch, thickening the granite bulge between his legs. Gabe exhaled in a low growl, and then murmured a barely audible “fuck.”
In the blink of an eye, his hands were on me. He grabbed me by the shoulders, flattening my body against him, before running those yummy, curious fingers down to the edge of my sweater.
He began to lift it, rolling the woolly fabric up over my head. He discarded it the way a starving man shucks a tamale and throws away the husk.
His lips fell on my bare shoulder, and I moaned. One hand slid up, cupping my breast through my bra. When he squeezed, I thought I'd melt, pooling in a puddle like honey at his feet.
“Virgin skin,” he whispered.
When he broke the kiss and I could finally breathe again, I looked up. “What? I'm no virgin.”
“Tonight you are. In this bedroom, beneath my hands and whatever else I might want to use on your flesh, you're mine to break in. Mine to use, tease, and own.”
I shuddered. Right then, I knew that this whole submission thing
was something a girl could get used to dangerously fast.
And he's not so far off the mark with the virgin label either. So, I had one wild year with a few men, and then half a decade of shameful celibacy.
Nothing like this. Nothing!
He stopped kissing me. His hands fell to my waist and he rotated me around.
“Walk to the edge of the bed and spread your hands on the wooden posts. I want to see your sweet ass bounce. Find out how fast those cheeks can turn into a couple cherries...”
His dominant right hand peeled back and landed on my ass again hard. I jumped forward and squealed a little, shocked by the noise, the sting.
Adrenaline dumped into my veins, fuel for the conflagration raging from head to toe. Even through my shell shock, I did what he asked, praying the pleasure would come quickly after he had his fun marking my flesh.
He moved several steps to the wall, plucking something off it, and returned an instant later. “We'll start with my bare hands, and then move to my trusty wide flogger. I want you to count in your head each time I spank you, Ashley. Focus on the numbers, like dials for your pleasure only I control. Can you do that?”
“Yes!” I panted, toes curling against the rough Turkish rug between the big bed and the floor.
“I can't hear you when you don't address me properly.” Change of plans. The little leathery whip shot out and smacked my right cheek, a swift, sharp little sting of fire.
I wondered if it punched a hole through my panties. I reached behind me, rubbing the tender spot. My panties were intact, but burning up as my flesh sweltered.
“Sir?” I mumbled, half-wondering if I'd gotten the right word.
I turned half a step. Behind me, he was smiling slightly and nodding. His hand fell to my ass and rubbed the red mark he'd left.
Without taking his hand away, he slid his fingers beneath my waistband. Starting just below the small of my back, he pulled, ripping my panties to my knees in one gruff tug.
“What a naughty, sweet little cunt you have. It betrays you,” he whispered, spreading my slick lower lips open with his fingers and inhaling my scent.
“Oh, little Ashley. You're not afraid. You like this, don't you? Hold still and breathe deep. I'm gonna make your little ass feel like peppermint, Ashley. I'm gonna give your body what it's hankering for. But I promise, I'll never do any permanent damage. I'm not into blood.”
Oh. There's a relief.
The sarcastic words in my head only deepened my resolve. I had to do this. Not just because I wanted to impress him. I had to do it to prove to myself I was back in the game, confronting my sexuality without any shame.
“Ready when you are, sir.”
I lowered my head and held my breath. His hand struck my bare ass once. I jerked forward, holding tight to the posts, knuckles going white as my body processed the impact.
When another slap came a second later, I didn't even cry out. Spank by spank, the shock lessened, and the “peppermint” phrase he'd used to describe the sensation actually started to make sense.
I counted, erratic but steady, silently mouthing the numbers each time his hands struck. After about six strong whacks, he gravitated to my opposite cheek, and the trial by fire started all over again.
One crack, two cracks, three cracks!
On the forth, I whimpered a little. The fire went up a notch, but it wasn't painful. Instead, a numb, almost pleasurable flood trickled up from below.
My swollen sex pulsed. I clenched my thighs together a little harder, the only thing between the floor and my sticky sweet sap, the slick honey my body created in its primal need to be filled.
“You're handling this really well so far,” he whispered behind me. Gabe's voice sounded strong and proud, but distant, as if he were sending me a message from the other side of the world.
“I think it's time we take this up a notch.” I clenched my jaw at his words. “Here you go, beautiful. I want you to feel my leather crop.”
He held the small flap to the center of one fiery red cheek. It was like an ice cube sinking into a hot spring. I tilted my head up and moaned.
“See how cool it is against your skin? It's amazing how something that feels so cool one minute can light fires the next.” He paused, moistening his lips in slow motion. “What do you think, Ashley? Do you want to feel what real cowboy's fire can do?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, yes, yes...”
No, no, no! My mind screamed.
The cowardly little voice inside me wanted to give up, run away, and repent. It didn't care that the biting flames turning my skin bright red were slowly giving way to a crazy, shaky kind of pleasure.
I tightened my fingers around the bed's posts until the joints hurt. I shifted my legs, pushing my ass back toward him, giving my Sir ample room to do as he desired.
Go ahead. Make me run like a steed. Whack me, smack me, spank me until I can't feel an inch below my waist...
As if on cue, Gabe fisted the leather handle, drawing the instrument high above him. It curdled the air as it sailed toward its target.
“Ahhh! Sir!” I gasped, shaking and sweating and spluttering as a deeper heat tore into me.
If the spankings delivered with his powerful hands were like peppermint, then this was a shot of pure Rumple Minze on my skin, a spark on a long fuse going all the way to my brain and blasting it apart.
“One!” Gabe shouted, patting gently above the burn mark he'd left on my ass. “You're almost there, Ashley. Just two more good whacks. Think of them like kisses, harder and richer than anything I can give you with my lips...”
I craned my neck. I stared up into the bed's canopy as the crop impacted the opposite side of my ass, leaving its brutal stamp of fearful pleasure right in that cheek's pliant center.
The flames forked out and snaked together into one powerful current, circulating through my body like a tempest. The pain peaked and whirled into nothing, leaving only a ferocious tingle pulling up my inner thighs, hooked into my throbbing clit.
I never wanted to fuck so badly in my life. I moaned.
“One more, my sweet girl. If you want to come for me, then come. Just be careful not to lose your mind for good.” Gabe paused, running one soft hand down my back, toward the rippling red flesh he'd created.
He gently wound around to my waist and held me as he prepared the final blow. This time, the third quaking spank nailed me right in the center, grazing both my cheeks where they split apart.
I swore he used less force, but the area where they landed deepened every blow he'd given me before. They all surged up like angry ghosts, howling through my body, possessing my spine.
I twisted back against him and sputtered.
Gabe grunted, satisfied in his torture. He reached between my legs and pushed two rigid fingers between my folds, smothering my clit with his thumb.
It didn't last for more than a few seconds. His glorious, writhing fingers pricked at my sex, adding a different sort of fire to the neon hot roar brimming inside me.
My knees buckled and I sank toward the floor, gasping for precious oxygen.
Gabe pulled me in tight and kept up his vigorous fingering, hardening the force along my clit. The inevitable explosion started like a vortex inside me, sucking every muscle tight and close, winding my brain with an awesome energy.
“Sir! I can't –“
Hold back, I thought, though the words never left my lips. And then the words rushing through my brain changed.
Just let go. Let it all out. You're beautiful when you come.
Grunting, sweating, and rocking in place, I collapsed on his hand, squeezing my spasming thighs together. My neck felt like a vice as I snapped my head up and screamed.
I was coming on his hands, gushing all over him, giving myself over to the mysterious and captivating heat consuming me.
Gabe's motions felt steadier – somehow larger, as if his fingers turned into a giant tsunami of pure pleasure washing up from below. It swept up my back and hit my head i
n a single second, drowning me in its deluge.
Pleasure hit. Unforgiving, inescapable, and unforgettable.
I pinched my eyes shut. They became two steaming cauldrons that saw only red and white, candy cane skies cast by my Master, Gabe Avery, creator of this wonderful new world.
The zenith burned deep and long. I felt like I was wrapped up in seething ecstasy for an hour, but it must've only been a few minutes.
When I started to come back down, I felt his faint stubble against my shoulder. Gabe kissed my neck. The strokes inside me with his hands became more delicate, like soft kisses meant to wake me from a deep sleep.
“You're beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered, leaning in for a longer kiss.
Huh? Did the last words I thought come from him or my own head?
I didn't know. I didn't care.
The surface of my well tanned rear throbbed now that the pleasure waned, but it didn't matter. I'd linked up perfectly with his energy, and became a finely tuned instrument for my cowboy's command.
Ignoring the hormone rush still raging inside me, I struggled to turn around, to face him. We locked lips. I think I surprised him with the sudden vigor of my kiss.
“I wish I could give you that much pleasure, Sir,” I said, parting lips. Slowly, I stood, reaching behind me to pop my bra's clasp.
The cups fell to the floor, and Gabe stared at my round globes in wonder. He stepped up, closing the space between us, moving in for another kiss. But my pointer finger landed on the middle of his lips first.
“Only keep it sensual if that's really what Sir desires. I can stand something rougher. I'm ready.” I swallowed hard, stiffening my resolve. “My flesh is ready for whatever you want to do to me.”
I smiled, giggled once, and fell backward, collapsing on the mattress.
Gabe stared at my naked, splayed body the same way an orchard farmer studies his trees before the Fall harvest. I expected him to leap, to crash on top of me, taking me like a wild man.
But he didn't. Not yet.
Gabe moved to his wall of agonizing wonders, and only returned to my side with several thick ropes clenched tight at his sides.
