by Linzi Basset
“Neaooo.”
“No? Okay. Is he—”
“Warf!” Sheila shook her head so hard even her bottom moved sideways.
“Such secrecy! Very well, I get the message. Spying on your master is off limits.”
“Warf.”
If anyone told Riley a week ago that she’d be having a conversation with a dog and understood what it said, or rather tried to say, she would’ve laughed her head off.
Not to mention how enamored she was with its owner … a complete stranger who forced her to realize she yearned for the kind of things she didn’t even dare dream about. Wild, unspoken acts of debauchery. The kind she only allowed her imagination to indulge in between the pages of romantic BDSM novels.
Chapter Six
“Come.”
Riley stared with trepidation at Trent’s hand that he held out to her. She’d spent the entire day envisioning what his dungeon looked like and how it would feel to be spanked by his huge hands. In her entire life, she had three spankings. All given to her by her mother when she was still very young. She couldn’t remember them, apart from the fact that she didn’t like it.
Her eyes drifted up the length of his arm, over his broad shoulders to clash with the dark look in his eyes, which to her surprise, swirled with silver sparks.
He came out of his study a different man late afternoon. Dinner had been a silent affair. His mind seemed elsewhere and he answered her questions in short, brusque syllables. She’d eventually given up and they finished dinner in silence. He’d chased her out of the kitchen when she offered to do the dishes. Mumbling to herself over his changed attitude, she’d gone upstairs and taken a long bubble bath. She’d been dying to try out the jacuzzi bath since she’d set foot inside the bathroom.
He had stood in front of the window when she was finished.
Gone was the friendliness, the gentle caring he’d exuded since she’d woken up three days before. In its place was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. A man with the power to break her like a twig between his fingers … literally and figuratively.
This Trent Reeves scared the shit out of her.
“Where are we going?” she hedged, staring at his outstretched hand while trying to settle her scattered nerves.
A tight smile split over his face. “Are you reneging on our barter, Riley?”
“N-now?”
“That’s what I said— one spanking after dinner in my dungeon.” He studied her silently, his hand still extended, portraying phenomenal patience, even though his face was a canvas of dark Domination.
“One spanking. Nothing else?”
His eyes flickered as he watched her shift her weight from one leg to the other. Her hands were clenched together in front of her. One tiny bare foot covered the other. She looked adorable in a bright pink polka dot flannel pajama set.
Completely spankable … and fuckable.
Trent sighed inwardly but he had no intention of bulldozing her into something she wasn’t ready for.
“My kind of spanking, yes.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember what a Dom’s kind of spanking entailed in the books she’d read.
“Meaning?”
“This isn’t punishment, Snowflake. It’s for our equal pleasure. Therefore, I’ll endeavor to make you enjoy the sensations the pain offers.” His lips twitched in a smile. “Maybe you’ll even climax.”
Her cheeks bloomed with a rosy blush. She was the most sassy and endearing woman he’d ever met. The contrast played havoc with the Dom in him. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.
“I’m a little scared,” she admitted but kept her gaze locked on him.
“I’d be concerned if you weren’t.” His hand raised a tad. “Come, Snowflake. Let me introduce you to my dungeon and I’ll explain how submission could bring you pleasure and offer you freedom.”
This time, she placed her hand in his. A spark sizzled from where they touched, all the way to her clit, which had been pulsing from the moment he’d said, “Come.”
She was silent as she followed him down the stairs. There was no sign of the two dogs. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned to walk around it to stop in front of the bookshelves that had been fitted under the stairs. He reached up and a sharp click sounded. Her eyes widened as the bookshelves turned into a door that swung open to reveal stairs leading downward. Light sconces flickered on at a press of his thumb against a control unit fixed to the stone wall.
Trent turned to her. “It’s not the kind of room I’d like a visitor to happen on by mistake. Before we go in, Riley, there are a couple of rules I won’t budge on.”
“Which are?”
“In my dungeon, you’ll always be naked. I want full access to every part of your body at all times.”
“Not even panties?”
“No barriers.” He brushed back her hair as he regarded her with an intense stare. “Were my suspicions correct that you know what Domination and submission is?”
“Yes, I have an understanding of what it entails.”
“And BDSM?”
Her cheeks bloomed red. She nodded.
“Next rule, my pet. When I ask you a question, you answer me. Nodding is not accepted once we step inside the dungeon.” His harsh expression softened. “Tell me what your understanding of BDSM is.”
“Bondage, domination, and submission, sadism and masochism,” she said without hesitation.
“Brilliant. You know what it stands for. Now answer my question.” Trent kept his gaze glued on her. It was important that she knew what to expect and he needed to gauge exactly how far she was willing to submit. Her brow furrowed in thought. He didn’t rush her, just waited patiently.
“It’s the exchange of power in a sexual environment, where a submissive relinquishes herself to the control of a Dominant.”
“Why?”
“Ehm … I think because contrary to being in control of every aspect of her life, where she might be a strong person of power, submission offers her an escape, a place where she can just let go and feel.” Riley swallowed hard before she continued. It was disconcerting to be put on the spot like this. Why didn’t he just take her into the dungeon and smack her ass? “BDSM combines sex, power, and pain in a healthy, controlled manner, but from what I understand it’s important to communicate at all times and it has to be consensual. Safe, sane, and consensual, I think the phrase is.”
“Very good. I believe you’re a natural submissive, Riley. That you’ve been searching for something without really knowing what. The fact that you know so much about the theoretical part of BDSM proves that you crave more … sexually at least.”
“I …” She bit back the words of denial at the warning flash in his eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
“I have to warn you, little one. Reading about a scene in a romanticized story, is very different from experiencing it. The emotions you’ll feel are much stronger, more elevated than during vanilla sex.”
Her eyes widened. “You said one spanking only.”
He chuckled. “So I did, but don’t discount what a spanking will awaken inside you, my pet. Giving power to a Dom so that you can just feel isn’t limited to physical sensations. Make no mistake about it, Riley. You’ll be flooded with emotions you won’t understand.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“Hell no, but it’s important that you understand there’s a difference between the imagination of an author to reality.”
He stepped into her and all thoughts evaporated as his warm lips traced the curve of her neck. Just like that, he obliterated all resistance she might’ve harbored. Her head swam as she battled to conjure up one single thought. All she could think about and feel, were his tantalizing kisses.
“To be honest, little one, I’d love this to be the first visit into the dungeon of many more to come.”
Riley heard his deep voice and it added to the tingling on her skin from the seductive caress that sent
ripples of heat rushing through her veins to pool around the nerves inside her nether regions. Her heart rate accelerated. Not with fear of the intended spanking but with the passion he awakened with every seductive slide of his lips.
“Oh lord,” She clenched her thighs together as the now familiar wetness he so easily evoked from her pussy, caused a wet patch on her pajama pants.
“In a BDSM scene, both parties find pleasure in a scene but it's the sub that sets the boundaries. Always remember that, Riley, you’ll be the one in control.”
“By communicating throughout and ensure you know what I’m comfortable with. By using a safeword when it becomes too much.”
“Yes. I love to dominate women sexually, my pet. Using an element of pain elevates my partners into a state of euphoric bliss so high that they experience the best climaxes of their lives, at times with no penetration at all.”
He took her hand and led her down the stairs. “For tonight, that’s enough talk.”
Sconces flicked on against the walls as they walked. They passed under a wide stone arch and more lights flickered to illuminate the room.
“This, Snowflake, is my dungeon.” Trent gestured into the room, watching her carefully. She hesitated briefly. His lips twitched when she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and marched past him.
“Holy snowballs!” She stopped abruptly as she scanned the interior of the dimly lit room. “This looks like a room from a medieval castle’s torture room!” she exclaimed. She always tried to conjure up what a dungeon looked like from descriptions in stories but standing in the middle of one, completely threw her off center. It wasn’t what it looked like more than how it made her feel. The rush of adrenaline pumped through her veins, the blush on her cheeks coated the excitement she felt bubbling inside her … the lust that wrapped its talons around her insides.
Her eyes darted back and forth, taking note of all the equipment around the room.
“Iron shackles?” she all but squealed as she spied them hanging from one wall.
“Oh, yes, my pet. For the times when punishment is required.”
The room was much bigger than she’d expected. The walls were cladded to have the appearance of a stone wall dungeon. Light sconces secured all around the room added to the dimness of the room. The floor was made from rich dark wood, complemented by the closet and numerous drawers built into one side of the wall. It had a warm feeling as much as it was eerie— stylish in a combination of modern and medieval.
“Does this scare you?” Trent rasped in her ear.
“Not yet,” she whispered as she slowly walked around the room.
Riley could feel him watching her as she inspected the content of closets and drawers.
“Good lord! How many subs do you bring here at one time?” she huffed, abashed at the number of dildos, butt plugs and vibrators of all shapes and sizes she found in the many drawers.
“I host parties sometimes but I personally never entertain more than one sub at a time. Nor do I use the same tool on everyone. Once they leave, they take it with.”
“How noble of you,” she snipped and forced a calming breath into her lungs. She winced and her nipples tingled in response as she traced her fingers over a variety of nipple clamps she found. It was the one thing she’d experimented with on her own. She’d dared to buy small nipple clamps online a couple of years ago and she loved playing with them.
But these look nothing like my little trinkets. I can only imagine the pinch they’ll have.
She skirted very quickly past the variety of whips, floggers, and belts, straps, and paddles. She might be curious about BDSM but she was a far way from being ready for impact tools like that.
“This is as scary as much as it’s …” She searched for the right word, “intriguing.” She settled on the best one that came to mind.
There was a plush leather sofa and chair standing on a thick Persian carpet facing an electric fireplace that Trent switched on as she watched. A golden glow immediately illuminated the room.
She blinked her eyes to verify what she looked at through another wide arch.
“A bedroom?”
“Yes. I never take any of the subs into my own bed. A scene begins and ends in the dungeon, after which they leave. I don’t sleep with any of the subs I scene with.”
Trent’s gruff voice soothed over her concerns as she stared agape at the chains and shackles hanging from the heavy wooden frame over the bed. She dragged her eyes away to find spanking benches, torture chairs, and tables placed strategically around the room. A large wooden St. Andrew’s cross adorned the far corner.
“What is that?” she breathed out in a puff and pointed to a steel contraption in the opposite corner.
“It’s a Trojan fucking machine.” Trent moved to sit on the sofa. “It’s time. Get undressed, please.”
“Trent, I—”
“In here, you will call me Sir or Master. Nothing else. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. For tonight, the rules you have to remember are to use your safeword if it becomes too much for you but don’t insult me by using it after the first couple of slaps. You follow any directive I give you without hesitation. Don’t, and you’ll end up being punished. You’ll submit to me for the spanking unconditionally.” He noticed the fear in her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared, my pet. I know it’s your first time and I’m cognizant of that. At the same time, I need you to be honest about what you’re feeling throughout, the sensations it brings and most importantly— how you react to them. My aim tonight is to introduce you to pleasure through the medium of pain, to teach you to find your inner strength to acknowledge what you truly need.”
His eyes narrowed when she continued to fidget with the buttons on her pajama top. She glanced around, the insecurity she felt blazoned on her face.
“I’ve seen you naked, little one. I’ve bathed and touched you. There’s no need to be shy. You have a beautiful and very sensual body. Now, Riley, get naked or you’ll experience your first punishment.”
“Okay!” she snapped and yanked open the buttons.
Trent let her defiance slide. For now. Tonight, was a practice run, to see if she had the strength to endure, not only the pain, but the devastating aftermath of a scene. More importantly, if she would be willing to set the submissive inside her free. A thrill of excited anticipation raced through him at the thought of being the one to guide her through the maze of scenes he’d love to have with her. His eyes darkened as she finally stood naked in front of him. His lips flattened as he watched her attempt to cover her breasts and vulva from his prying gaze.
“Hands behind your back.” The beast inside him purred as she obeyed without thought. “You never cover any part of your body I told you to bare to me.” His eyes tracked slowly up and down her body. “Beautiful, little one.” He got up and walked toward one of the benches in the opposite corner. “Your safeword is snow. Whether you just want me to stop to talk or end the scene completely, just call snow.” He pointed to the whipping post. “Bend over the bench and hold onto the side bar. Now, Riley. I don’t like repeating an instruction.”
Riley trotted closer. “With what are you going to spank me?” Her voice sounded far off to herself.
He held up his hands, palms facing her. A shiver trailed over her spine. Her soft ass, his hard hands … it was a combination that spelled disaster for her. Nevertheless, she willingly bartered with him … well, kind of ... so it was time to pay up.
Chapter Seven
Riley’s legs were rubbery but she managed to step closer. The wooden bench restricted her ability to move as she stretched to wrap her hands around the bars shackled into the wall. She was embarrassingly aware that Trent stood behind her and was free to ogle her nakedness. Bare-assed and presenting him with her pussy that she knew was moist and swollen already.
“Spread your legs.” The abrupt order came from where he knelt behind her.
Riley blushed. Freaking h
ell, this is so embarrassing.
She had acknowledged that this was what she wanted, but somehow, she couldn’t move. Her hands tightened around the bars as she glanced at him from under her arms.
He looked up with a raised eyebrow, silently waiting. Her resistance faltered under that unflinching, commanding regard.
She shuffled her feet apart, hearing her breathing rattle from her chest as he folder his fingers around her knee. She was inundated with fresh flush of heat. The full enormity of the position she was in swamped her mind. There she stood, bent over, naked, with the man she wanted the most between her legs, allowing him to …
Ooohh, sweet singing monkeys! His fingers inside me feel like heaven.
Her breathing increased even as a most bewildering pleasure raced through her body. She stiffened at the unexpected, yet tantalizing slide of his fingers on the inside of her thighs.
“Relax, Snowflake.”
The deep, rich chords slithered through her mind to set her at ease.
“Have you ever allowed a man to take charge of you sexually? To control every aspect of the sensations that you feel?”
She glanced at him upside down from between her legs, uncomfortably aware of her nakedness, spread open to his avid gaze. The midnight hue of his eyes was scattered with shards of silver as he watched her intently, almost like he could read her mind, predict what those sensations were going to feel like. She squirmed under his intense scrutiny.
“Riley, I expect an answer when I ask you a question,” he warned, his voice lowering into a deep drawl.
With an effort, she managed to drag her attention back to him. “No.” She tossed back her head.
“I find that strange, especially as the need to be dominated is blazoning from your eyes. Every cell in your body is screaming at me to take control.”
She gasped as his hand covered her breast, reiterating how vulnerable she was in her present position. He toyed lazily with the tip.
“To be honest, I didn’t trust any of the men I’ve been with to give them such power over me.” She sounded breathless.
