by L. DuBois
What Autumn needed was to be used while also being cherished—not one thing followed by the other. With another sub, it might have been harder to offer that level of care, because he would have had to fake it to some degree. Not with Autumn.
Enough feelings shit.
He was in complete agreement with his inner voice.
The flogging he’d given her ass and tits had been gentle, meant to warm her up for what was to come, while also setting the tone for the scene. He wanted to pull her over his lap and spank her ass until she was shrieking in protest, her legs kicking in the air, butt red and tender.
They might get to that. The night was still young, even accounting for the time they’d spent talking behind the building. Maybe he would get to spank her tonight. Maybe he could leave her butt sore and aching to go along with the bite marks on her tits.
Fantasizing about that was not helping his control, and his cock was already so hard that he was pretty sure there would be a zipper imprint on it when he finally took his pants off.
Daniel gripped her gently by the throat, waited until her eyes met his. “Stay like this, pet. I have a few things I’m going to get.”
She nodded, chin bumping his fingers.
“What a good little whore you are.” He rubbed his thumb against her lower lip to soften the words.
“Yes, Sir.”
Daniel rose, grimacing as his cock rubbed against his fucking pants. He swung one leg over her head, and made his way to the Den.
He had some very specific toys in mind. If he found what he was looking for, Autumn’s ass, pussy, and nipples would all soon be throbbing.
And if she was a very good girl he might even let her come.
Chapter 11
Pet.
Slut.
Whore.
The words created a tight knot in her stomach. One that hadn’t been there when Daniel was present, but he’d left her with her thoughts as company. Her thoughts were not always the kindest companions.
When she spoke the words in the quiet of her mind, they were spat with derision. That wasn’t how he’d used them. Coming from Daniel they’d been, if not exactly compliments, almost accolades. Like being called a ‘bitch.’
That thought made her smile. She considered it a point of pride the first time a man had called her a bitch for being—in his mind—too aggressive. Too successful.
“Smiling? I like that.”
She’d heard footsteps—not the first set to walk along the path behind her—but hadn’t realized it was Daniel until he spoke.
She twisted to look at him, maintaining her kneeling, palms up posture.
Daniel was carrying a massive duffle bag. He eased it gingerly off his shoulder. It was clearly heavy, and when he set it down there was an audible thump.
Autumn glanced from him to the bag and back again. “Do you have…a body in there?”
He straightened, putting his hands on his hips. He’d changed out of his suit pants and undershirt, putting on a pair of Dom leathers and boots, along with a black tank top. He was pulling off the man in black look very, very well.
“A dead body? No. Luckily, necrophilia isn’t one of our assigned N words.”
“Good lord.” She knew she was making a face. “Well I’m pretty sure even if it was, I would have marked that one with a big, fat no.”
He stepped over the bag and took a seat on the bench and carefully maneuvered one heavy boot between her legs. She sucked in air, wondering if he was going to use her very wet pussy to shine his boot.
She was certainly wet enough, and as degrading as it was, she wanted his foot nudging her pussy. Not because she had a degradation kink, but because she was so aroused, she’d take any stimulation. At least, if he was the one doing it. Anyone else…well, that was a different story.
“Now if we’re talking about a live body—”
She had to jerk her attention away from his boot—and fantasies about its possible application to her pussy—to his face, and then to the duffle bag.
“Maybe I had another sub climb in there, and they’re the toy I’m going to use on you.” He leaned down, a smile tugging the corner of his lips and his eyes sparkling with sexy, dominant amusement. “Would you like that? Having another sub laying under you, their tongue teasing your clit each time I ordered them to lick you. I wouldn’t let you come like that, of course.”
She shivered, one of those full body shivers that made her shoulders twitch and her areolas puckered in tight.
“Oh, you like that idea.”
She arched a brow. “What’s not to like, Sir?”
He laughed, grabbed her gently by the neck, and pulled her in so he could lean down and kiss the top of her head.
Oh.
Oh.
When he released her and stood to go open the duffle, Autumn didn’t turn around. That little peck on the head had left her…stupefied.
She’d walked away from him before because he was the kind of man she could fall in love with, and because of that she couldn’t stand for him to see her being submissive.
When he’d kissed her head like that…a quick, spontaneous, affectionate gesture…she’d realized that he wasn’t just the kind of man she might develop romantic feelings for.
She was catching feelings. She was falling for him.
Crap.
Her internal panic distracted her enough that she didn’t notice when he took the heavy half-barrel-shaped piece of equipment out of the bag. She tuned back in only when the buzz of vibration distracted her.
She glanced over and her eyes went wide.
Daniel had brought out a Sybian. The half cylinder covered in black vinyl was just over a foot high and about that wide. He’d set it up in the center of a woven blanket, which he’d spread out beside where she knelt.
As she watched he disappeared, holding a rather incongruous thick orange extension cord, which he was unlooping as he walked.
He returned a few moments later, apparently having found someplace to plug the Sybian in.
While he was gone Autumn had tried to see what else was in the bag, in particular what attachments he’d brought for the Sybian—sometimes called a saddle masturbator or just “a saddle”. At the apex of the curved machine was a small ridge, with a circular opening where a short metal shaft could be attached, though it wasn’t currently screwed in. The various attachments were fitted onto the raised ridge, and, if there was a dildo on the attachment it fit over the metal shaft.
She’d only played with one once. And though it had been here at the club, it hadn’t been as part of a scene. One of the overseers had developed a new type of attachment and had asked for volunteer subs to test it out.
The orgasm had been quick and gasp-inducing, thanks to the o-shaped clit stimulator.
However, that time she’d been in charge of the controller, and chosen how long she wanted to spend in that particular saddle.
This was going to be very different, she was sure.
Daniel took a seat, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees, his head turned to the side to look at her. He was smiling, and it was the same delicious smile she’d seen at dinner. No sneer or smirk. A real smile.
The tight knot of worry low in her gut loosened.
“Have you ridden one of these before?” He leaned down and picked up the controller, a box slightly larger than a game controller, with a long black wire connecting it to the Sybian.
“Once. But I was in charge of that.” She pointed at the controller box.
“This is mine.” He pressed it possessively to his chest, then smiled. “This is going to be fun.”
“I think so too, Sir.”
He hooked one booted foot in the strap of the duffle bag, pulling it closer. She waited for him to pull out an attachment or overlay, but he didn’t reach into the bag.
His gaze swept down her, and the air around them thickened. Her breath caught, her nipples tingled, and she knew that when he spoke again his words would be a
low-toned command.
“Stand up and strip, pet.”
Autumn pushed to her feet, bracing her hands on the ground. Normally she could do it without having to use her hands—a pride point among the submissives, and the only reason she tortured herself with squats and deadlifts—but she’d been kneeling long enough that the support was necessary. Daniel didn’t reprimand her, the way beginner and fake Doms would have. He reached out, cupping her elbow as she rose. Once she was steady he reached down and massaged her lower legs, helping to restore the circulation.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I have to take care of my slut, don’t I?” His hands slid up her legs to her hips.
He toyed with the straps of her thong. Now that she was standing she could feel the bunched, sodden fabric of her thong between her labia, an awkward, uncomfortable feeling that made her hyper aware of her pussy, and slightly embarrassed by how it must look.
Daniel gripped the straps of her thong and yanked up. Autumn shrieked in surprise, then hissed in pain as the fabric was forced tight against her anus and pussy.
“I told you to take this off, didn’t I?” He reached around and grabbed the back, pulling so that the fabric sawed against her sensitive flesh.
It hurt in all the right ways, and Autumn danced up onto her toes, her hands hanging awkwardly at her sides.
Daniel released it, and before she’d fully lowered herself back onto her heels he was grabbing the thong and shoving it down. It clung to her pussy and removing it stimulated her clit just enough that she let out a little moan.
Daniel surged to his feet, grabbed her hair, forcing her head back. “Did you enjoy me hurting your cunt like that, whore?”
“No…”
Daniel arched a brow and smiled in amusement. “No?”
Autumn leaned into him, her bare breasts rubbing his chest, even as her scalp started to burn with pain.
“I’d like to change my answer.”
“By all means, go ahead.”
“Yes, Sir. I enjoyed it.”
“Then why did you lie?”
She shrugged, only to yelp when his hand switched from her hair to her neck and he yanked her back, putting space between them. His cheek brushed hers as his lips found her ear.
“Did you lie because you were upset by being called a whore?”
“No, Sir.”
“Were you lying to yourself, too?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to do it again. Not because…not because I was scared of the pain, but because I wanted the scene to move on.” The words escaped in a rush, and she tensed, anticipating the fallout.
His thumb slid up to press on the soft spot behind her ear, a strange, intimate touch, before he released her.
Daniel stepped back and sat, casually crossing his legs, ankle on knee. “You are impatient for the pleasure you assume I’ll allow you to feel, because of the toy I brought.”
“I—”
“Quiet, slut.” He waited, brow raised.
She stayed silent, having to clench her teeth to manage it.
“Good to see you can behave.”
She felt like a student called to the principal’s office—she’d been caught and now she’d be reprimanded.
And damn it she was so fucking wet. Without the thong, her slick pussy lips rubbed against one another any time she shifted her weight. Her nipples ached with the need for stimulation, and she had to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching up to play with herself.
This scene, the time she was spending with Daniel, was headed down paths and into areas she’d never thought she wanted to go. That she’d never planned on enjoying. Schoolgirl role-play normally made her cringe, and yet at this moment she wished she had on a plaid skirt, and he was seated behind a desk.
She’d never trusted a—
Trust. She froze, all her attention turned inward. She trusted Daniel. A man she’d only just met, but after a handful of hours knew her shameful secret, and didn’t find her horrible or disgusting. She trusted him in a way she hadn’t trusted someone in a very long time.
“Hey.”
She blinked, focusing. Daniel was standing once more, peering at her face. His gaze moved over each feature as if he could decode her thoughts. Maybe he could.
“Talk to me,” he said softly.
“I…trust you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile, but his mouth stayed soft. “I don’t think you trust people very often, do you?”
“No, I don’t. It…surprised me. To realize how much I trust you.”
“And I’m honored by that trust. And at some point I would appreciate a full rundown of the thought process that got you there, but that’s a conversation for aftercare.” He touched her chin, then ran his fingers down the center line of her body all the way to her pussy.
With every millimeter he stroked, she slid deeper into scene. Into her submission.
By the time his knuckle gently prodded the plump top of her vulva, she felt soft and willing. Wildly aroused.
“Thank you, Sir,” she murmured.
“For?”
“For using me. For giving me what I need.”
“You’re very welcome, pet.” He stepped back. “Now it’s time to get you ready to ride.” He winked in that silly exaggerated way that made her smile.
When he turned to the bag there was only one dark thought that she couldn’t fully put aside.
He knew so much about her…but she knew nothing about him.
She was perfect.
No, not perfect. Perfect wasn’t real. No person could be perfect.
What Autumn was, was perfect for him.
He’d never felt so in tune with a submissive before. Somehow he could look at her and he just knew. What she was feeling, what she needed.
And the way that they both were able to slide from a heavy D/s vibe to a lighter, companionable moment and back again was astonishing. In the past, pulling back from that place where he kept his need for control, from his Dom persona, into being just Daniel would disrupt the energy of the scene.
With her it didn’t.
With her he felt…whole. Like he could be wholly himself. And that meant he wanted to tell her about his past.
The overseers knew, due to the club vetting process, and while the shittiest parts of his childhood were readily accessible to anyone willing to google, he didn’t talk about them. He’d accepted his own past, thanks to years of therapy, and he still went every other week, but while his therapist had helped him process his trauma, he hadn’t been totally forthcoming with them about how heavily into D/s he was.
He hadn’t told his therapist, because he knew what they would say. He’d point out that Daniel’s deep need for control was an understandable coping mechanism, given what had happened to him. In other aspects of his life he’d worked on giving up control. On letting other people take charge, even if that gave him anxiety.
The one place he hadn’t tried to adjust his behavior was when it came to BDSM. He didn’t want to be told that the healthiest thing for him would be to walk away from the lifestyle, and he was absolutely certain that would be the primary suggestion.
He couldn’t give up being a Dom, but he had pushed himself to be more of a service top. The best scenes were ones where the submissive got what she needed.
Outside of the club he was in control, but not controlling. He never let his Dom side come out to play, unless he was safely within the Las Palmas gates.
Earlier he’d thought about asking her out. Romantic thoughts fueled by moonlight, tied in with the desire to help her, even rescue her from her own demons.
What he was feeling right now was far less romantic. It was something deeper and more complicated.
Their innate compatibility meant something. This connection between them was the reason she was letting him deliberately push her boundaries as a submissive.
Why she
’d trusted him with her secrets.
And that was the problem. Because he wanted, for the first time in a very long time, to tell someone about his past. He wanted to sit beside her in the dark and let the words flow.
But doing that would break this connection. She would see him differently, and he wasn’t sure he could bear that.
She’d realize that he was a monster.
If she knew why he needed this, connected his past with his sadistic sexual tendencies, she’d walk away. If she did, there would be no getting her back.
Damn it.
Get out of your own head, and back in the scene.
Daniel turned his attention to the bag of toys, shoving the sick feeling of dread deep down inside, boxing it up in a dark corner.
She’d said she needed to scene. Well, so did he. He needed to be in control, and this was the only place he released the bonds on that desperate need. He also needed to spank her, to play with her in ways that caused pleasure, yes…but also pain.
And the root of that need…that was what made him a monster.
Chapter 12
“DP—double penetration—via plug, nipple clamps, possibly a clit clamp…though I have other plans for your clit. And some light bondage.” Daniel turned from the bag, which he’d put on the chair so he could rummage through it, and held up a shiny pair of clamps and a butt plug.
He wasn’t smiling, and for a moment she was worried, because the look on his face was stark. He studied her, then relaxed.
“Worried?” Now the smile was back, and he wiggled the butt plug.
“Oh, absolutely,” she breathed.
“Good.” His grin melted away to be replaced by intense focus. The way he was looking at her made her pussy and anus clench.
“Hold this for a moment.” He passed her the butt plug, which she accepted gingerly.
Her eyes widened when she realized how heavy it was. “Oh, it’s solid metal.”
“All the better to transfer vibrations, my dear.”
He was rummaging in the bag, so she took a moment to study the plug. It was the classic egg shape, with a nice narrow tip. The neck of the plug was as thick as her thumb, but the base of it, instead of being flat, was a large open circle, big enough for rope to be threaded through, or for two fingers to slide inside. Basically, once it was in he’d have a handy anchor point coming out of her ass.
