Risk (BDSM Dominant submissive Romance): Everything to lose. Everything to gain.

by Mia Moore

  Good morning Buttercup!

  I hope you had a better night's sleep than I did. Seeing that I was awake all night tossing and turning and doing all sorts of lascivious things to you in my dreams, which by the way you loved, I should have stayed with you and actually done them.

  But then you would wonder at my morals, maybe think that I'm some kind of man-slut and lose all respect for me. Worse yet, you’d probably be bragging about your conquest all over your office. And there's the threat that you being with the largest weekly periodical in the country, you may write about me. My reputation would be ruined nationally. LOL.

  I can't WAIT to see you tomorrow!!

  How about you come over to my place for lunch (I'm a fabulous cook you know) and we can go over your answers to the questionnaire. Pick you up at 11:30 tomorrow morning?

  You can wear panties if you'd like. But if you were to show up in a skirt, sans panties, I wouldn't mind. (that's Vanilla Craig speaking)

  Master Craig is telling you – short skirt, no panties, thigh highs, black lacy bra.

  You get to pick which one you listen to.

  Kisses and Hugs,

  Craig

  Jessica chuckled and opened the attachment he had sent.

  Oh my. Look at all the questions! I don't have time right now. I'll print it and then I've gotta get to the gym and get some groceries, do laundry. This will be my after dinner treat.'

  She set out to do her household errands and chores. What kind of questions will there be? I’ve never taken a written test as part of the dating process. Is there a right and wrong answer? What's the pass mark? I always got A’s in university. But will an A mean I’m totally out there? Not sure I want an A.

  ***

  That evening, Jessica threw the Chinese take-out boxes from her supper into the garbage and rinsed her plate. It was not that she couldn't cook, she just chose not to and this was more often than not. Not cooking was an indulgence that she allowed herself, justifying in the fact that there was too much fuss and too many leftovers that became science projects, with the various shades of mold in the refrigerator. And she didn't have a pet to take care of that.

  She scooped the three page questionnaire from her printer, settled into her favorite comfy chair with a pen and scanned the instructions.

  Y/N if you've ever done the activity and then rate your pleasure of that activity:

  1= dislike intensely

  2 = gave no pleasure

  3= just ok

  4 = liked it

  5 = extremely enjoyed

  Limits

  HL = hard limit

  SL = soft limit

  MC = mild curiosity

  MI = moderate interested

  VI = very interested.

  First Item

  Anal Play

  Anal Plugs

  Anal Sex

  Beating, hard

  Do people really DO these things? Used as a piece of furniture? What the heck does THAT mean? Are you a table, chair, lamp? And what the hell does it have to do with sex? Foot worship…well I kind of get that. Look at how much money I spend on shoes. Sure, I kind of worship my feet, I guess, but not in a sexual way.

  HOT WAX! Get out! Where does the hot wax go? And do they peel it off in one sweep? May save some money on bikini line waxes, but to say that anyone likes it? You'd have to be some kind of a masochist. Oh yeah. That's what this is all about isn't it? No and hard limit to that one.

  Beatings? I've got to think about that. How hard would it be and beat with what? Oops, I see, next lines - canes, whips, belts. I would think somewhat curious, maybe would try.

  At some of the items, Jessica made a face and muttered "Ewwwe" under her breath. No and hard limit.

  But there were items also on the list that she lingered over... blindfolds, erotic dancing, and thought of Craig. I'm open to trying that and yeah! I'm really curious.

  She finished the questionnaire and wondered once more what it was about the idea of being a submissive that aroused her. And she WAS aroused after the evening in the art gallery, outside in the side street with Craig. He had mentioned a couple of reasons why a submissive would relinquish their 'power' to a Dom. Although in actual fact they aren't relinquishing because they can stop the whole scene, so in effect a sub was the powerful one. It was a little confusing.

  Maybe there was anything on the internet regarding the mind of a submissive. When and if, they ever 'scened' she'd like a better idea of the dynamics.

  She booted up her laptop and went into the kitchen to get a glass of wine while she waited. Yeah, am I ready for that? Actually, is HE ready for it? He left me here last night, when I was pretty much throwing myself at him. Why didn't he stay even though he said he really wanted to? Kind of mixed messages there. I've never had a man turn me down, when I've given him the green light. And the damnable thing about THAT is it makes me want him more! Is he playing me like a ten cent kazoo?'

  Jessica frowned.

  But, I'm attracted to him and so what if he's manipulating me a bit? Really, does it matter? Sure he seems like a great guy but it's just shits and giggles, right? Tinderbox nodded enthusiastically. Yeah! Go for it. What the hell!

  She settled into her chair, wineglass next to her and signed into the internet. She did a search on the mindset of a submissive and of course was rewarded with a plethora of sites to visit. And reading the top few lead to another search, sex and the mindset of a submissive. After her reading she sipped her wine and tried to assimilate all of the information. Her reading was just a tip of an enormous iceberg, but she didn't have to write a thesis on this subject; she just wanted a layman's (no pun intended, she smirked) working knowledge of what to expect and how her limited exposure and reaction fit into the total picture.

  The range of submission is pretty broad. At one extreme, there's the sub lifestyle. I can't imagine myself kneeling down to a Dom when I walk in the door from a hard day at work, handing him my wallet and car keys. And then rushing into the bedroom to get my sexy lingerie and heels on to be properly attired while I prepare his meals, I don't even cook for myself! As I'm doing all the domestic things around the house, I am also sexually ever ready (just like the battery) should his lordship get the urge.

  Okay, these subs are well treated by their Dom and feel cherished and protected and yes, they've given their consent, their power to the Dom. But for my money, I'd rather get a Great Dane! I'd feel safe and he'd adore me. I could keep his food dish full and he wouldn't have expectations of any sexual dalliance with me. I'd have him neutered to be on the safe side. She grinned.

  Then there's the sub who desires to be beaten to the point that their body is releasing all sorts of chemicals, as would be the case if they encountered a mountain lion and were about to run away. But they stay strapped down and beaten. They get a high from this state or the cherishing aftercare their Dom, who has beaten the shit out of them let's not forget, gives them. Not too sure about this type either.

  Now the sub who surrenders their power when they are in the bedroom and only there…well I think that may be more my cup of tea. And given that many really successful people, managers, executives find this a common fantasy…well..that just proves my point.

  So Craig, we WILL have to do some talking about the questionnaire tomorrow. After all, it's ME who has the power. And that’s way okay by me. Especially if you got me tied up!

  Jessica finished her wine and decided to turn in. Because of her reading and the questionnaire she'd completed earlier, Dreamland became Domland. All night long she served a demanding Dom, wearing a ball and chain around her neck. She cooked for him while he beat her with a whip, pausing only long enough to adore the high heels she was wearing. He strung her up in chains as he beat her mercilessly and rather than getting tuned on by this, she managed to kick box him into unconsciousness. As she was fleeing the scene of her assault, he woke up and took her into the bedroom and closed the door. And on that pleasant note, her dreams ended.

  Chap
ter 7

  At half past eleven on Sunday, she was ready for Craig to pick her up. It wasn't hard to decide on what to wear. She wanted to be nice to Vanilla Craig, but was more than willing to obey Master Craig. Tinderbox would not have it any other way. Ladylike didn't even get a chance to give Jessica the benefit of her wisdom – Tinderbox had learned enough from Jessica's research the night before, to apply a ball gag to Lady's mouth.

  As requested she wore the thigh highs, spikey heels, a black lacy bra. a short, black pencil skirt (well, a couple of inches above the knee, it was after all a work skirt too) and a scooped black sweater. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Not exactly church attire, kind of the Johnny Cash look. Oh admit it! I'm lookin' sexy as hell!

  The buzzer rang and she buzzed him up. She opened her door and struck a pose, leaning seductively against the door frame, trying to look like a hooker under a street lamp, hoisting her skirt just a little higher. There were footsteps on the stairs coming closer and a woman's voice followed by Craig's laugh.

  Mrs. Vaughn, her elderly neighbor and Craig immediately appeared. Both looked shocked as Jessica jumped to adjust her skirt and assume a normal posture. The look in Mrs. Vaughn's eyes and Craig's grin was all she needed to see to know that they’d seen her wanton pose.

  "Hello Dear. I haven't seen lately. Are you not working from home anymore? Or have you found a new line of work?" The elderly woman remarked before she turned down the hall on her way to her own apartment.

  Jessica’s face was hot as she stammered, "Hi Mrs. Vaughn. No, still working at the same place." THAT was awkward trying to explain the sexy attire on a Sunday morning.

  Craig slipped into the apartment behind her and closed the door. “Well Mrs. Vaughn may not think much of your outfit but ya got my attention!” He stepped closer to her and gave her a soft kiss.

  She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close. "You can do better than that."

  He held her closely and kissed her, exploring her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness, inhaling the spicy scent of her perfume. She ran her hands over his denim shirt, feeling the lean muscles on his back. His hands roamed to her waist and hips. He broke off their kiss and murmured in her ear. "You're a fast learner."

  "I've got a good teacher. What is today's lesson going to be professor?" She smiled up at him.

  "Patience." He placed his hands on her arms. "We should get going. I've got a frittata on low in the oven and I don't want it to dry out. Don't forget the questionnaire.”

  "Ah, A man who cooks! Will you marry me and be my wife?"

  “You don’t cook?” He helped her into her coat.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  They left her apartment and twenty minutes later arrived at Craig’s townhouse. It was a three story townhouse set across the street, from the lake, in a trendy area of the city.

  They parked at the back of his unit and entered. Although she’d been to this area of town many times strolling along the boardwalk, it was her first time in one of the homes. The ground level consisted of a utility area at the back entrance to a large den at the front.

  As they climbed the stairs leading to the main living area, she remarked, “Not too shabby Craig. You really ARE doing well as an author. Wow! look at that view of the lake. And something smells scrumptious.”

  “Yeah. I like it here, near the water. And the multi- colored townhouses have character. I like the neighborhood. Let me get your coat and then I’ve got to check on our brunch, excuse me.”

  She heard him opening the oven and then the clatter of plates, a refrigerator opening. She wandered around his living area, admiring his masculine and nautical décor.

  “Dinner is served Madam.”

  He escorted her to the small dining area behind the living room and held a chair for her to be seated. The table was set with candlelight, steaming plates of a cheese and ham frittata with side dishes of salad. Two sparking glasses of mimosa flanked each plate.

  “You really know how to impress a gal. This looks wonderful.” She sat down across from him.

  “Thanks but it’s you who looks wonderful. Did you choose your outfit for the Vanilla or the Master Craig?”

  The butterflies in her stomach took flight. She took a deep breath and answered. “I’ve got the feeling that my answer will influence how we spend our afternoon.” She paused, her voice almost a whisper. “Master Craig.”

  He smiled, silently watching her as they ate.

  She was very aware of her clothing in that moment as he watched her. His eyes glanced at her plunging neckline, her tight skirt pressed against her thighs, barely covering the tops of her stockings. And higher, under her skirt she felt naked, vulnerable and excited. The food in her mouth lost its flavor and it was like chewing cotton balls. She gently put her fork down and sipped her champagne. The silence as they continued looking at one another, eyes locked, was ripe with anticipation.

  “You’re not hungry anymore?”

  “Not for food.” There was a tremor in her voice. Did I just SAY that?

  “Patience, my dear. Eat. Let’s talk about something else for awhile. I don’t want you fainting away with hunger. How about those Blue Jays?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I guess patience isn’t one of my virtues. Yes, how was the game? Who won?” She watched his lips as he answered, the twinkle in his eye, the gorgeous locks of hair to run her fingers through. The bastard! He knows I’m turned on and he’s toying with me.

  “The Yankees. It was a good game though. The Jays didn’t get slaughtered. Had some laughs with the guys and a nice dinner at O’Brien’s. How’d you spend your day?”

  “Oh, I had a million things to do. Errands. Housework, laundry. I did your questionnaire and some research on line about it.”

  “Oh. What did you think?” He looked at her and picked up their plates to take them to the kitchen.

  She rose, helping with the clean up. “Well…some of the items on the questionnaire were an eye opener. What the hell is diaper play? But, do I really want to know the answer?”

  She stood next to him at the sink as he rinsed the plates. “No. It’s a generic form I got off the web. It covers a lot of things. Don’t worry, I’m fresh out of diapers.”

  “Good. And we’re too young for Depends.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Would you like another mimosa? Let’s go into the living room and get comfortable. I’m anxious to read your answers. Just how kinky are you Jessica?” He put his arm over her shoulder and led her to the sofa. Before sitting across from her on his big comfy chair, he topped up their drinks and handed her one. She took the questionnaire from her purse and handed it to him.

  Craig put his eyeglasses on and read through her answers, while she sat quietly for a few minutes. She rose to her feet and wandered to the large picture window to gaze out at the lake. The water had a soothing effect. Tinderbox and Lady like who had been boxing in the ring of her mind, went to their respective corners. Minutes passed slowly as she waited for him to make a comment.

  His arms circled her body and his mouth kissed the curve of her neck before turning her around to look into her eyes.

  With a barely audible voice she asked, “Did I pass? Just how perverted am I?”

  “Not very. But you’re definitely interested in exploring. You have potential.”

  She felt herself melting in the chocolate pools of his eyes, the soft brush of his trimmed beard as he leaned down to kiss her. His hands caressed down along her back to her waist and lower to her buttocks. Her breath quivered through parted lips as she clutched him tightly about the neck, snuggling her body into him, and feeling his response.

  He slowly drew his head and she gazed up at him, wondering. He reached for her hand and led her up another set of stairs to a large master bedroom. Her eyes scanned the room taking in the large windows, polished golden oak floors, and dark masculine furniture, to the navy coverlet on the massive king sized bed. Oh my…I’m here. What’s
next? Her breath caught in her throat.

  He left her standing in the centre of the room, next to the bed as he walked to the windows to pull the dark drapes closed. A quiver of excitement caused her to tremble slightly; the mood in the room transformed from bright and sunny to dark, sultry and intimate. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

  He returned and stood, an arm’s length away, watching her. “Jessica, it would please me to see you naked, except for your shoes and stockings.”

  Her eyes opened wide and her breath hitched. He wants me to undress in front of him. I knew we’d get there eventually, but not like this. This seems so wanton…

  “Jessica?”

  With a tremor in her, she grasped the fabric of her sweater and lifted it over her head. Her breasts, held high by the underwires of the bra, spilling out of the cups now thrust forward as she reached behind and undid the clasp. She slid it over her shoulders and down her arms letting it drop to the floor next to her feet. His gaze didn’t drop but continued boring into her own.

  Her hands guided the button of her skirt’s waistband open and she slowly lowered the zipper, pushing the fabric over her hips and letting it fall to join the lacy black bra. Nervously she stepped out of it and kicked the clothing to the side. Breath Jessica. Calm down. This isn’t the first time you’ve been naked in front of a man.

  But it was the first time that she was ever told to undress, to feel helpless, vulnerability and naked. Waiting. Why doesn’t he kiss me…do something…touch me? The minute she stood before him stretched into what felt like an hour in her consciousness.

  “Now lie down on the bed.”

  She took a small step to the side of the bed and gracefully lowered herself, legs together, onto it. She pushed herself along its cool satiny surface until she was sitting near the centre. She lifted her legs and swung them up and over, easing her back down to rest on it. She laid straight, arms at her sides, ankles touching each other.