by L. DuBois
Damn it, he was going to make her cry. And maybe…maybe he was right. If she really submitted to him, and he still respected her, then maybe…maybe it would mean she was okay.
“Any top worthy of the title would do what I’m about to.”
A spike of arousal burned through the feelings she was having “And what are you about to do?”
“I’m going to use you.” Daniel wrapped his arms around her, jerking her forward so she fell against his chest, her palms on his shoulders, her breasts a hair’s distance from his face.
“I’m going to make you submit to me every way I can think of.” He turned his head, lips brushing the inner curve of her right breast.
She swayed, trying to angle her nipple across his lips. She was desperate for sensation.
Daniel’s hands gripped her waist and he forced her back a few inches. “No.”
The reprimand hit her like the lash of a whip and her insides went soft and compliant.
“Your nipples will be played with…sometimes pleasurably, sometimes painfully…when I choose.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“I’m going to use you hard. Because if I don’t, if I go easy on you, it won’t have as much of an impact.”
“Ha.”
“Pun intended,” he finished.
They were quiet for a moment. Still. It wasn’t awkward, but anticipatory.
“If I go easy on you, you won’t find it as meaningful if, at the end of the weekend, I ask you out on a nice, normal vanilla date.”
“That’s your plan to show me you still respect me? A pity date.”
“Pity date? Absolutely not what I intend.”
“I don’t need—”
He didn’t let her finish that thought. “You do. We all need something. That’s why we spend an obscene amount of money to be members.”
“It is a little horrific if you think about it,” she murmured.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Autumn. Tell me that you don’t need someone to tie you down. Take control. All so that you can let go…and submit.”
Her breath caught, her stomach muscles tensed, even as her pussy pulsed with arousal and need.
When she didn’t reply he dropped one hand to her leg and squeezed her thigh, hard enough for it to be a reprimand.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Sir.” As the last syllable left her lips so did the final remnants of her resistance. Being here with him, like this—in the club, naked on his lap except for the thong—would have pushed her deep into her own subspace long ago, if her attraction to him and the way he made her feel hadn’t set off internal alarms.
She’d told him her secret shame, and he hadn’t called her a hypocrite. Hadn’t walked away from her the way she had from him.
“Ah, there you are,” Daniel murmured, the hand on her thigh rising to her cheek. She rested her head in his palm, and he stroked his thumb along her cheekbone.
“On your knees at my feet, please.”
Chapter 9
Autumn obeyed without letting herself stop and think.
Despite the ‘please’, that had been an order, and the pleasantry somehow underscored his dominance. This was a man who was so in control that he tacked good manners on to his orders and they didn’t diminish the unequivocal command in his words.
She knelt on the blanket that she’d had on her lap, close enough to him that her knees were between his toes. Daniel sat forward, brushing her hair back from her face before carefully gathering it into a tail.
She was ready when he abruptly tightened his hold, her scalp lighting up with little prickles of pain. She kept her gaze down as he jerked her head back, only looking up when he ordered her to.
“Something specific happened before. Something changed for you. What was it? Be specific.”
His blue-gray eyes bore into hers.
“It was calling me a…a slut.” She pressed her nails into her palms. “Not just the word, but your tone of voice, Sir.”
“And what was my tone?”
“You sounded…disdainful. Almost degrading. You called me a slut like it was an insult, and it was like…like the man who I had dinner with, who I’d had a good conversation with, disappeared the instant I was on my knees to be spanked.” The words came out in a hot rush.
He tucked her hair behind her ear again, his fingers gentle and caring.
“I felt so…embarrassed and stupid. Small and like…like you were going to hit me, hurt me, not just because it was BDSM, but because you saw me as the kind of woman it was okay to hit.”
His fingers stilled in her hair. “Never, Autumn. I would never hit you, anyone, in anger or to punish. That is…that is abhorrent to me.”
There was something in his voice that told her there was a story there.
After a moment he relaxed with a nearly visible effort. “Someone really did a number on you.” He cupped her cheek and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand once more.
“I told you I was broken,” she whispered.
“And I told you that you were not broken.” There was steel in his words and voice. “You will not contradict me again.”
She bit the tip of her tongue and nodded quickly. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Oh you will be.” Heat suffused his voice.
“Have I earned a punishment?”
“Several.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know if she was worried or turned on. Wait, she was a submissive. She could multitask and be both. Worrying about a punishment was a turn on in and of itself.
“First you’re going to be punished for running away from your last punishment. Then you will be punished for using degrading language and being cruel to my submissive.”
“Your submissive?” She looked up as he rose. Daniel was towering over her, his crotch inches from her face as he stood astride her knees.
“You, Autumn. You are my submissive and you were cruel to yourself, weren’t you?”
“And the other submissives.” Why had she said that?
“Ah, but you weren’t. You displaced your fear and anger for, and with, yourself.” His gaze was intense. “No more of that. Open your mouth.”
Autumn dropped her jaw open, stomach tight with anticipation. Her hands were coming up, ready to unfasten his slacks so he could slide his hard cock into her mouth.
They’d never gotten around to finishing their conversation about intimate touch. Before she’d stalked off, he’d been carefully asking if she was okay with his bare hands on her ass. That was quite a jump from butt-touching to face-fucking, but she wanted it. On her knees with a cock in her mouth was in her sub comfort zone, though she rarely engaged in overtly sexual activities during her scenes.
Daniel’s hand tightened in her hair and he jerked her face forward, rubbing his hard cock against her open mouth, the fabric of his slacks and zipper abrading her lips.
When he jerked her back by the hair there was a barely visible damp spot on the front of his pants, and her lips felt a little swollen.
Daniel swung one leg over her head, disappearing briefly while she knelt staring at the seat. He was back before she had time to psych herself into, or out of, anything.
“Up on the chair. Knees on the seat and lean over the back. I want your ass higher than your head.”
He was behind her, so she didn’t get a chance to see what he was up to. She positioned herself the same way she had before—her midsection leaning on the back of the chair, fingers under her, elbows sticking up, arms tucked against her sides.
Cool, smooth rope—she knew what it was just by the weight and feel of it—draped over her back.
“Unfortunately, you cannot be trusted to stay still for your punishment.” He wrapped the rope, loosely, around her midsection and then, after removing the pillow back and tossing it aside, laced the ends through the slatted wooden back of the chair, bringing it up and around her forearms and wrists in a wide, loose cuff, before threading it back through to the front.
> “I won’t run this time, Sir.”
“No, you won’t.” He tied off the restraint. “Because I’m not giving you a choice.”
He teased her ass with the ends of the rope, making them dance across her skin before releasing them. He came around and crouched so they were eye to eye. Her hair was falling around her face, but he carefully tucked it behind her ears.
“Remember, I don’t use a slowdown code word. I will, of course, respect your safe word—pickle—but if you need to slow down, or are uncomfortable, say so.”
“You want open and honest communication.” She repeated his earlier words.
He smiled up at her, and she was so entranced with his smile that she didn’t notice his hand move.
But she felt it when he cupped her dangling breast, massaging it gently. Autumn’s eyes fluttered closed on a moan.
“Autumn, I am going to touch you in overtly sexual ways, as part of our scene. I think it’s necessary. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And yes, I’m aware we should have had this discussion before I put you into a submissive position, but you needed to be pulled out of your own head more than you need to negotiate the scene to death.”
“Thank you.” She opened her eyes. “I mean that, Daniel. Thank you, because I did want…need…to get out of my own head.”
“I will wear gloves for any penetration done with my fingers, and for tonight my cock is staying in my pants.”
She opened her mouth to protest. She wanted him to face fuck her. She had been ready, and more than willing, when he put her on her knees a few moments ago.
“No.” He pinched her nipple, hard enough to make her yelp. “That would cross a line, and besides…” He leaned in. “It’s not your decision to make, is it?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good.”
He switched breasts, quickly kneading that one, before pinching the nipple.
Next he carefully removed her piercings. The gentle, precise brush of his fingers as he unscrewed the ball and slid the bar free made her pant. When both were removed, he tucked them into his pocket.
He bent to examine her now fully naked breasts. Not that she hadn’t been naked before, but there was a different kind of intimacy in having her jewelry gone. In knowing that he’d done so because he was going to do things to her breasts and nipples that couldn’t happen with the piercings in place.
He stroked her. “You have lovely breasts.”
Her breath caught again, her eyes meeting his. For a moment Daniel swayed forward, and she thought he’d kiss her, but he stopped short. His sigh was heavy, and when he turned his head away she could see the muscle in his jaw working as he once more fought to control himself.
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
He pushed to his feet and was gone before the last word was fully spoken.
Autumn hung her head to let her neck muscles rest, and though she told herself not to think about it, her mind turned to thoughts of kissing Daniel. It wasn’t that she’d never kissed or been kissed by BDSM partners before, but the kisses were different. A kiss on the forehead or cheek, often done in tandem with a comforting hug in aftercare.
Pop culture BDSM was all about the sexual aspect of the play, but that was rare in public clubs or munches, and even here, where privacy and loose rules meant more overtly sexual play, many people were happy without it. It was how she preferred it.
Until Daniel.
She was changing everything for him. She could lie to herself and say it was part of the game, but it was Daniel. If it had been anyone but him who used that tone on her she would have been irritated, but not so distressed that she had to walk away.
Before her thoughts could spiral, he was back. Daniel’s hand slid over the curve of her ass and down her thigh. Next he shifted the rope tails off her ass.
Clearing the way for the spanking that she knew was coming.
Autumn lifted her head and twisted her neck enough to look back at him. She could only hold it for a moment, but it was enough to see that he was holding a black and neon green flogger.
Her toes curled in nervous anticipation and she shifted her weight from knee to knee, the rope pulled tight by her movement, the pressure of the bondage delicious.
“Count for me,” he commanded.
Thwap. The first strike hit her ass and it was a nice thud of a good, soft-tailed flogger.
“One,” she breathed.
“How many do you think you’ve earned?”
“I’m not trying to be a brat when I say this, but I really don’t think I should answer that.”
“And why not?”
“Because if I guess too low, you’ll punish—”
Thwap.
“Ahh, two.”
“You were saying?” Daniel asked politely.
“If it’s too low you’ll punish me, and if I guess high, you’ll—”
Thwap.
“Three, Sir.”
“Well done. Though I’d like you to finish your sentence.”
Thwap, thwap.
“Four, five.” The heat was building now, and that last one had been hard enough to really register as pain.
“It’s rather distracting to have you keep stopping in the middle of sentences.”
Thwap.
“Six. Ouch.”
“Ouch, what?”
“Ouch, Sir.”
“Well done. Now, please finish what you were trying to say.”
“If I guess a high number, you’ll decide to do that many, instead of whatever you were going to do.” She spoke as fast as she could, the words running together.
Thwap.
“Seven. Sir.”
“Did that one not hurt enough?” He sounded politely curious.
She looked over her shoulder, shot him a wide-eyed look.
He smirked at her, and it was weird and wonderful to have him flip from serious and precise to teasing.
“Never fear,” he assured her. “I can fix that.”
The next two strikes were hard, the tails of the flogger spreading out to cover both ass cheeks, striking already reddened and sensitized skin.
She yelped, her heels kicking up until she almost touched her ass.
“Relax.” Daniel’s voice was back to all business.
He rested the flogger on her back, and then his strong fingers dug into the muscles of her shoulders, forcing them down away from her ears. “Don’t tense up. Stay soft. Accept your punishment.”
He put one knee on the bench beside her, his pants brushing her leg, his warm body touching the curve of her ass as he leaned down over her to whisper in her ear.
“If you’re tense, you’re fighting the punishment. You’re not going to do that, because you know you deserve this. Need this.”
He reached under her, finding one of her hanging, vulnerable breasts. His thumb flicked her nipple, and when she started to tense in reaction to the instant pleasure, his other hand slapped her ass.
His hand was harder, the strike less dispersed than the flogger. That one hurt.
She cried out in pain. A pain that was coupled with pleasure when he gently grasped her nipple and rolled it between two fingers.
Her pussy clenched, and she knew the fabric of her thong was soaked. She’d opted for laser treatment to remove her pubic hair, and could feel the wet fabric clinging to her vulva.
“How many lashes from the flogger do you need, Autumn?”
He switched to the other breast, rolling that nipple with exquisite precision.
She barely registered his question. The pleasure from her nipples mingled with the pain of the flogging. Instinctually, she spread her knees, offering her pussy.
He picked up the flogger and she tensed in anticipation. She wasn’t sure if she was terrified or thrilled at the idea of the flogger tails striking her pussy, but whichever emotion it was, the thought also made her throb with arousal.
She didn’t realize she tensed again, arching her ba
ck and pushing up against the ropes, until he used the hand that had been gently tugging her nipples to force her head down.
“Relax your shoulders. Drop your head.”
There was no choice but to obey as his hand, tangled in her hair, pushed her down.
The back of the chair dug into her ribs. Her back muscles were starting to hurt, and her ass throbbed, though the heat from the flogging was already fading.
He slid off the chair, releasing her hair. The loss of his body heat made her shiver.
The tips of his now slightly dusty black shoes appeared in the limited field of vision she had thanks to her hair falling around her face. He gathered her hair, more gently than a moment ago, and used it to tug her head up, so that while her shoulders were lower than her ass, she was looking out, towards the horizon line. Though in this case there was no horizon to see, only some pretty plants and through the breaks in the leaves, a couple seated together on the twin to the chair she currently knelt upon.
Daniel plucked the flogger off her back. He swung it several times, snapping it against his lower leg. Then he did several underhand practice swings, bringing the flogger up from below rather than across in a horizontal motion.
“I’m going to flog your breasts, Autumn.”
Her eyes widened and she twisted as much as she could, given her position and his hold on her hair.
“Take a deep breath. Good. Again. Now keep your chin up.”
“Sir, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold this position.” She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold it at all once he started flogging her breasts.
“This is a stress posture,” he agreed. “I won’t ask you to hold it for long.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Daniel released her hair, which fell over one shoulder alongside her neck, the twisted strands more controlled thanks to his handling.
“Don’t count. All I want you to do is feel.”
She couldn’t see his face, only his body from midsection down. Her vision narrowed in on his hand and the flogger, which he was casually swinging at his side.
She knew the first strike was coming, saw him pull his hand back a little further than he had before. She took a breath, held it, and in the second before the flogger made contact, she closed her eyes.
