Naughty Flings: Twelve Naughty Little Romps

by Alexa Silver

  “Never tied a woman up? Spanked her? Maybe fucked her ass?” The words were coarse and raw, but again, her tone of voice robbed them of any crudeness.

  “No, the usual stuff has always been just fine for me.”

  “Okay, so we’ll take it slow. Just do what I say,” she told him. “You’ve already seen that I will use pain to maintain control.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I see that. Felt that.” He rubbed his tongue against his teeth. Was it a little swollen?

  His tongue might not have swelled, but his dick sure had. He shifted from foot to foot, and his cock eased into a more comfortable position.

  “First, you will speak only when I allow you to do so. If you want to say something or ask a question, you must first ask my permission.”

  “Uh, may I respond, ma’am?”

  “You may, but when you address me, I prefer that you call me Mistress.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Very good. Now, did you have something to say?”

  “Yes, Mistress, only that I understand. Understood.” Strange how addressing her as Mistress seemed so natural, so right. She was, after all, his trainer.

  Now she was training him sexually.

  “Good boy. Well done.” Her smile warmed him.

  “Yes, M-mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Excellent deportment. Good boy.”

  He bent his head, stunned at the—at the—

  At the naturalness of it all. That he’d assumed his new, submissive role so quickly was stunning, yet natural.

  A strange euphoria spread through his body, starting at his crotch, spreading rapidly down his thighs, up his belly, into his chest to encompass his heart. He went weak in the knees and would have collapsed had she not noticed and helped him over to the bed.

  She sat next to him and slid an arm around his waist for a comforting side-hug. He relaxed into the warmth of her support while her hands remained busy. She unbuckled his belt and pulled it free, then scooted around behind him and knelt on the bed, her knees bracketing him. After taking off his shirt, she began to caress his shoulders and scratch them gently. “Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want,” she murmured into his ear. “If I go too far, just say so, okay?”

  Her warm breath soothed him, and he relaxed into her touch. The scratching and rubbing, though only on his back, was a real turn-on.

  He unzipped his pants and his cock sprang free. She snarled and smacked his rod with her open palm. Hard.

  “Fuck! What was that?”

  “Did I give you permission to expose yourself? Did I give you permission to speak?”

  Shit. He’d blown it. He bent his head. “No, Mistress. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  She nibbled on his earlobe, the sharp jabs stimulating. “There’s a price for everything,” she whispered.

  His hair stood on end while his cock stood, also. But why? Why did he find the threat of punishment so arousing?

  Maybe he craved the discipline she’d deliver.

  While his thoughts were thrashing around, she’d continued to stroke, scratch, and caress, up and down his back and along his sides. His cock thickened and he again allowed himself to slide into pleasure.

  Submission, he realized, was merely taking. All he had to do was receive. His muscles loosened while his dick got harder. The scratching fingernails wandered up and down his back increasing in intensity and suddenly, shockingly, became red-hot slashes along his skin.

  His cock began to leak pre-come. He desperately wanted to stroke himself but knew with utter certainty that she’d forbid that.

  “You’re so hot. I love the way you’re responding. Have I told you how gorgeous you are, how beautiful your cock is? Don’t come ’til I say. Wait.”

  He got even harder. He was close, very close to completely losing it for the first time since he’d been fifteen. He shoved his hands under his thighs and groaned. The dual sensations were maddening. If he focused on Mr. Happy, he’d come without her permission. If he paid too much attention to the now-vicious clawing of his back, he’d run screaming from the room. And he didn’t want to do that.

  He wanted whatever this woman would give him, come what may. His body jerked and bucked involuntarily.

  Her soft laugh was mocking but oh, so sexy. “You wanna come?” Her voice was low and seductive.

  “Yes, please, Mistress.”

  She raked her fingernails up his back, leaving trails of fire. “Too damn bad.”

  “Please! Please, Mistress!”

  “I like the sound of your pleas.” She laughed. “Well, okay. Give it to me, baby. Come for me.”

  And he did, hard and fast, pleasure and heat snapping through his system like a whip’s crack followed by immense relief. Thick ropes of jism spurted into the air and plopped onto the hotel carpet.

  “Oh, you’ve made a mess, you bad, bad boy.”

  Afterglow fled and he tensed. Fuck. He’d once seen some porn in which a Dom made his sub lick come off the floor. Would his Mistress make him do that? He remembered she’d said, Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want. If I go too far, just say so, okay?

  But he wanted to please her. She’d already made him feel—well, she’d already made him feel more than any woman had for years. He sighed. “Mistress, I’m sorry. Shall I clean it up?”

  “I think you should. Can’t leave that for the maid. Go to the bathroom, tidy yourself up, and get a washcloth or something for this disgusting goo.” Her voice was contemptuous, and he squirmed. “And get naked while you’re at it.”

  He leapt to obey. Why not? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten him off without touching his dick in some way, sucking or fucking or squeezing with a hand. Maybe when he’d been a kid and he’d wake up coming, wet dreams driving him to orgasm in his sleep. But not since then.

  When he’d finished wiping up, naked as she’d ordered, she pushed him down on the bed and deftly secured his hands to the Spanish-style wooden headboard.

  She’d tied him up in seconds flat. His dick jumped even though he’d just come.

  “You—you—” He tried to tug his hands free with no success. “That was fast. You’ve, uh, done this before?”

  She grinned at him. “How do your shoulders feel?” Her voice was unexpectedly tender. “I don’t want to mess with that pitching arm.”

  He tested the bond again. “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” She swung a leg over him, then grabbed his stiff cock and guided it inside her, taking him.

  She stole his breath. He gasped in surprise and shock. Then there was the pleasure... She was hot and wet and tight, very fucking tight. He sucked in another breath and focused on not exploding into her in the first two thrusts.

  He didn’t dare look at her breasts. They had to be bouncing above him. He got even harder from the thought and knew, just knew, that if he looked, he’d burst. He squinched his eyes tight shut, red waves of spinning ecstasy surrounding him.

  She settled upon him and started to grind, swirling her hips around his rod, drawing him in deeper and deeper. She was taking her pleasure, using him as she willed. And that was so completely arousing that he had to strain not to lose it again.

  “Mistress, I’m going to come.”

  “Don’t. It’s too soon.”

  He blinked up at her. She wasn’t smiling. She was serious, and he guessed that some arcane punishment would await him if he disobeyed. But... “You’re so hot. I can’t help it!”

  “Yes, you can.” She reached behind her.

  Her hand fumbled at his balls, reaching down and behind them. Then—

  “Ouch! Fuck!”

  All desire to come shot away—she’d pinched his taint. Hard. He was still inside her, still getting fucked, but was nowhere near coming even though he was still inside the tightest, hottest cunt he’d ever explored with his dick.

  She shoved her pussy against him again, putting pressure on her clit he guessed, and he groaned. Maybe she was using him
for her satisfaction, but her domination was hot as twenty hells and sexy as fuck.

  She moaned and panted, flinging her head back, and came long before he was ready. That didn’t seem to bother her a bit. She pulled off of him and let her juices flow out of her, sticky over his still-hard cock.

  While still kneeling over him, she reached behind her back a moment before he heard her zipper purr as she lowered it. She pulled her dress off over her head and tossed it onto a chair.

  He didn’t have much time to enjoy looking at her naked body, because she immediately walked on her knees up the bed, pink-tipped tits bobbing, until her dripping pussy was over his mouth. “Clean me up.”

  “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” And he meant it. Her aroused cunt was pink-purple and shiny with juices. Set between swollen, shaved labia, the hard nubbin of her clit was an irresistible temptation. Her aroma was maddening. He breathed deeply, then blew warm air over her pussy.

  “Very nice. Now get to work.”

  He extended his tongue a little hesitantly. The usual order of events for him was suck first, fuck later. In fact, he’d found himself calling sex “the ol’ suck and fuck routine” more than once. Obviously he’d become a little bored.

  Not now, that was for sure. He ran his tongue alongside her clit, first the left side, and then the right, which he’d read somewhere was most often a woman’s most sensitive spot. Then he obeyed her orders and pushed his tongue into her open, wet slit, licking everything he could, swallowing what he found while holding his breath; his nose was buried in her pubes and he couldn’t breathe.

  Not that he really cared. He happily kissed her cunt, laving every sticky, tasty patch and drip.

  She eased her pelvis back so her clit was again over his lips, then leaned forward and grasped the headboard. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit as fast as he could, and she moaned again. Using the headboard for stability, she rubbed her pussy back and forth across his mouth, forcing him to eat her out the way she wanted.

  Which was fine. He devoured her honey, relishing the slightly sweet taste. Why’d she taste so good? Did she really taste better than other women?

  He licked and kissed and loved as his cock again hardened into a state of need so intense he was sure his balls had to be bluer than the Arizona sky. What was it about her?

  While his thoughts wandered, she ground harder on his mouth and peaked, her shuddering climax releasing more of her sweet flow.

  She let herself tumble off his body to one side and lay, breathing heavily. He took the moment to look, really look, at her fabulous body.

  Toned legs, flat belly, a nicely trimmed mound. And...he’d been right about the C-cups.

  “May I touch you, Mistress?” Chase’s voice was hushed.

  Terri glanced at him. He lay beside her, hands bound above his head, a perfect portrait of male submission.

  She pretended to think while he squirmed, obviously ready to be released, perhaps ready to top from below, despite his quiet entreaty.

  She wouldn’t put up with that. But he was a newbie, so perhaps he’d had enough for one evening. She didn’t want to break or spoil him. With a little training he’d be a perfect partner in pleasure for the season, maybe longer.

  She sat up and untwisted the belt from around his wrists. “You may give me a massage.”

  “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” He dropped his gaze from her face to her breasts. “I’ll do my best to please you.”

  She rolled over onto her belly. “You say all the right things. Do you watch FemDomme porn?”

  He knelt beside her. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “How long have you wanted this?” She turned her head toward him, adjusting so her neck was supported by the pillows.

  He hesitated, and she watched emotions flow across his expressive face. No doubt about it, Chase McCall was a looker. Beautifully cut lips she’d enjoyed caressing her clit. Big brown eyes, now holding embarrassment. He dipped his head so a shock of straight, dark hair fell over his forehead.

  When he spoke, his voice was low. “A long time. Since I was a kid.”

  “What happened?” She kept her tone equally soft.

  “I, er, I went to a private school where corporal punishment was allowed. And I had a huge crush on my second grade teacher. Miss Patton, she was called.”

  “What was she like?”

  “Hmm.” He closed his eyes, brow furrowed a little. “Sandy brown hair, brown eyes. Curvy but not fat. Pretty. Nice. I, er, I really wanted her attention, so I found myself acting out.”

  “Go on.” So he’s a brat seeking punishment. She smiled. I know how to deal with him.

  “She made me stay after school one day and spanked me.”

  “Did she use a paddle or a ruler?”

  He shuddered—with desire, she guessed—and said, “No, but she made me take my pants down.”

  “A bare-handed, bare-assed spanking. Did it turn you on?”

  “N-not then. But later...” He swallowed. Oh, his shame was so delicious. “Later I got my first hard-on and my first orgasm, in bed that night. I had no idea what was going on. I was only eight! The next morning, I told my mom there was sticky stuff all in my bed but it wasn’t pee.”

  “What did she do?”

  “They were very religious and strict.”

  “Did she also punish you?”

  His head dropped even lower. “Yes.”

  “And you liked it.”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “You waited a long time to fulfill this fantasy, didn’t you?”

  “I had no idea how to find anyone, who... I didn’t know how to ask and I don’t use whores. I didn’t want to go to a pro.”

  Sensing this was a crucial moment, she sat up and took his hands in hers. “Chase, look at me and listen to me.” When he had obeyed, she said, “There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing. We may all have different reasons for doing it, different reasons for whatever kink we like, but if no one gets hurt, there’s nothing bad, wrong or abnormal about it.”

  He raised his head, his cheeks red.

  “Trust me.” She squeezed his hands, his beautiful, large, capable pitcher’s hands. “Trust me. Right now, millions of people are tying each other up and loving it. Millions of men are being dominated by their women.”

  He sighed, and tension seemed to seep out of his body. She toughened her voice. “Now you’re gonna put all those bad ashamed thoughts out of your mind so you can focus on what’s important.”

  His brows drew together. “What’s that, Mistress?”

  She laughed. “Right now, rubbing my back as well as you rubbed my feet. And tomorrow, you’re going to be killer on the mound. You’re gonna get out there and do me proud. Okay?”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Chase sat in the dugout lacing his cleats when one of the catchers sat beside him. “So what happened last night?” Sam asked. “You and Terri jetted out of the restaurant like the devil was chasing you.”

  Chase managed a laugh. “No devil. Just Chinese food.”

  “Huh?”

  “We decided we didn’t want anything on the hotel menu and went out for Chinese.” The lie rolled easily off his lips. Given the nature of the affair as well as its newness, he wouldn’t discuss it with anyone except Terri herself. And he’d kept a T-shirt on while changing into his uniform.

  “What’s she really like?”

  “Interesting woman, very strong. Let’s put it this way, I won’t argue with her or get in her way.”

  “Get in her way? Where’s she going?”

  “She wants to be the first female head coach of a men’s pro sports franchise. Maybe this one.”

  “Wow,” Sam said thoughtfully. “That would be cool for my daughter to see.”

  Despite some frowns from around the dugout, another player said, “Yeah. Mine too.” He looked around belligerently. “Anyone got a problem with that?”

  While silence fell, Sam ros
e and left the dugout, moving with grace despite his protective gear. Chase finished his pre-game routine and followed to see Sam on the field, earnestly talking with Terri, nodding his head and giving her what looked like little pats of encouragement on the arm. Terri herself wore red team sweats and an astonished expression.

  The next half-hour saw a steady parade of players approach her and engage in what seemed like the same conversation. Then she strode over to Chase, who by that time was warming up on the mound, tossing sliders to Sam. She took the ball out of Chase’s glove, forcing him to stop. “How’d you do that?” she asked Chase.

  He rolled his head around his neck gently, allowing the stretch rather than forcing it. “Do what?”

  “In the last few minutes a whole bunch of tough, macho guys told me they want to see me become the first female head coach in pro sports. That’s not something I’d expect.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything but tell Sam a little about you.”

  She raised her brows.

  “Very little,” he said hastily. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any more punishment, though given Terri’s tendencies, she’d find a reason. “I just told him what you plan for your career, nothing more. It’s not a secret, is it?”

  “No, not really, but I’m pretty sure Coach doesn’t need to know I want his job.”

  Chase laughed. “He’s nearing retirement. He doesn’t care.”

  “True. Well, okay. Uh, thanks.” She leaned closer to murmur in his ear. “There’s reward as well as punishment, you know. Do well, and you’ll be rewarded.” She raised her hand and blew a whistle. “Play ball!”

  She handed him the ball and he tossed it from glove to hand and back again, three times, no more, no less. He eyed Sam, crouched behind home plate, who gave him a three-fingered signal for a slider. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Terri amble toward the third baseline to join a group of trainers and coaches.

  With everyone who would pass judgment on his career watching, a lot was riding on his next pitches. His future. His relationship. Punishment or reward.

  He shrugged his shoulders. The scratches Terri had scored into his back rubbed against his T-shirt.