Stephanie's Domain

by Susanna Hughes

  He felt her come. He felt her whole body quiver, every nerve responding without reference to mind. He didn't stop. For a second her body arched in involuntary protest but the protest was short-lived. Her body subsided, the feelings he was generating too strong to make her want to stop him.

  It was as though he had entered her orgasm, as though he were right inside it, standing in the middle of the ripples of feeling spreading out from her like a stone thrown into a pond. His finger was like a stone, hard, impenetrable, unstoppable. She felt her orgasm erupting again, again flooding over his finger, again provoked by his seemingly perfect knowledge of the rhythms of her body. She wouldn't have believed it possible to come so quickly again but her body knew differently. Again it locked around her, taking its pleasure, plunging her into a maelstrom of sensation.

  This time his finger left her. He was pulling at the waistband of her knickers, pulling them off. Stephanie, befuddled by her feelings, took a moment to realise what was required of her. Then, feeling him trying to tug the material from under her buttocks, she lifted her hips off the bed. Caplin pulled the knickers away. As he unhooked them from around her ankles, he bent forward to kiss the arch of her foot. He pulled her high heels off one by one, then kissed each foot in turn, working up from the ankle to the knee, up as far as the clip of the suspender in the middle of her thigh before going back to the foot on the other leg and starting again. When he reached the thigh the second time he continued up until his mouth was on the little dimple of flesh just under the crease where thigh met pelvis.

  She knew what he was going to do next. She wanted it. Her cunt cried out for it as though it had had no completion. She opened her legs wide.

  His mouth fell on her labia, his tongue darting out, pressing into her cunt, licking the wet flesh between her cunt's lips. His mouth felt so hot, burning hot. He seemed to be lapping up the juices from her body like a cat lapping cream.

  She felt herself coming again, uncontrollably as his tongue probed her sex. Each orgasm seemed to have made her hotter, more sensitive, more turned on. Each seemed to take her higher. This time she felt her climax roar through her body, shaking her every nerve, like a low-flying jet plane. Her body quivered in its wake her cunt contracting involuntarily. Suddenly his mouth was gone and in a split second was replaced by his cock, driven into her up to the hilt, right up her soaking, aching cunt. But it did not move. He did not stroke it in and out of her. He kept it pressed deep inside, rigid and unmoving in her melting flesh. The feelings in her body were so intense she could not tell, or even think about whether the orgasm that raked through her body now was yet another climax or merely the same one, driven higher and deeper by his cock. All Stephanie could do was feel. She knew she was literally screaming with pleasure. She knew she had wrapped herself around Caplin's muscular body. She knew she was trembling hopelessly. But that was all she could cope with consciously. The rest of the feelings that tore through her body were beyond objective thought.

  As he felt her body slowly relax, her trembling subside like the calming of a sea, he relaxed too, allowing his cock to pull back a little. He looked down into her eyes. He saw her struggling to focus.

  Then, almost imperceptibly at first, he began to move his cock inside her, a gentle movement, hardly more than a half an inch to begin with. Stephanie moaned. After the climatic sensations it was soothing.

  She slipped her hands down to his buttocks and clasped him in her hands. She wanted him to come now. She pushed him forward so his cock went deeper. He responded, increasing the length of his stroke, and moving faster too. Using her hands she encouraged, persuaded, urged. She pushed her body up, angling herself so he could feel how hungry she was for him.

  'Give it to me, please,' she whispered in his ear.

  He was plunging into her now, full strokes of his hard cock. He didn't care about her now, only himself, his body driving him, freed of constraints, allowed to take its pleasure. He had found his rhythm. The rhythm that would bring him off. The melting, pliant woman underneath him made him, by contrast feel so hard, so masculine, so sexy. He looked down, down to where their bodies were joined. He could see his cock sliding in and out of her, from the dark growth of her pubic hair at the base of her iron flat navel, and, on her thigh, the welt of the stocking top dividing her leg in two, making the soft creamy flesh above the nylon seem that much more vulnerable and exposed.

  He felt his cock moving inexorably to climax. His mind was so full of pictures - how she had slipped her dress off, the look in her eyes, so knowing - and his body so full of feeling that he knew he was past the point of no return.

  Sensing his condition Stephanie snaked her left hand under his thigh to find his balls. At the same time she sent her right hand to grope between their bodies for his nipple. She cupped his balls in her hand and, at the same time, pinched his nipple. He moaned. That was it, he plunged in one more time like a man possessed then stopped, completely, stopped with his cock in her to the hilt, his pubic bone crushed against her clitoris, the head of his cock at the neck of her womb, his whole body poised on the edge of a monumental precipice. He felt his cock spasm and, a millisecond later, a rush of relief as it jetted spunk out into her waiting cunt, and his body convulsed with pleasure. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of spunk, each producing a shock of sensation. Finally his cock was empty. His body shook involuntarily, like a dog out of water, shaking itself to extract the last drop of spunk. It did this twice, each time a surprise to him, each time provoking little aftershocks, echoes of the orgasm that had gone before.

  Slowly their bodies relaxed. His cock shrunk and was expelled by the pressure of her cunt. It slipped out, wet and flaccid. Only then did he roll off her to lie by her side.

  He began to laugh.

  'What is it?' she said.

  'Didn't even take your bra off,' he said. 'Must really have been in a hurry.'

  'It didn't matter.'

  'You're telling me.'

  They didn't say anything else for a while. They lay wrapped in their feelings, Caplin tracing his finger - the tip of a regularly manicured finger - in little circles on the top of Stephanie's arm.

  Stephanie reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. She pulled it away from her breasts and rested back on the bed. Her nipples were hard and erect.

  Caplin immediately cupped a hand over the firm flesh. 'Hm... nice,' he said.

  'Tell me something. At the Shades of Hades...'

  'Yes?'

  'You were very turned on, weren't you?'

  'I guess so.'

  'What by?' Stephanie asked. She thought she knew the answer.

  'You want to know the truth?' he said looking into her eyes. Perhaps he was trying to decide whether he could trust her with the truth.

  'If you want to tell me.'

  'I've always had a... what would you call it, a fantasy I suppose,' he hesitated again.

  'Go on.'

  'I've never told anyone this before.'

  'You don't have to tell me. I am just curious.'

  'I've always had a fantasy about being, what's the right word... dominated. The woman in all that leather gear, the way she was using that guy. I supposed it struck a chord is all.'

  'You've never done anything about it?'

  'The truth again?'

  She nodded.

  'I've been to the club a few times. I've been on the point of bidding for the woman, the Amazon. But I've always chickened out. I did go to a prostitute once.' He looked at her earnestly. He wasn't at all sure why he was telling her all this. 'I've never told anyone this either.'

  'And?'

  He got off the bed and poured himself a glass of champagne. His cock was still wet and the hair around his balls was plastered down with her juices. He offered a drink to Stephanie by signing with the bottle but she refused.

  'Why are you so interested?' he asked sitting on the bed again.

  'It fascinates me,' she said. It was perfectly true.

  'There
was an ad in the paper. It just happened to catch my eye - "Miss Strictland. By Appointment Only." - I made an appointment.'

  'What happened?' Stephanie said genuinely interested.

  'It wasn't very satisfactory.'

  'Tell me more.'

  'It was sordid. Oh it was a very swanky apartment. And she was very expensive and I suppose she was good at what she did.'

  'What did she do?'

  'She beat me. Abused me. Made me lick her shoes. Stuff like that.'

  'Did you come?'

  'Yes. But I hated it. It wasn't what I'd imagined. It wasn't real. She was just doing it for the money. That wasn't my fantasy. I'd always wanted someone who was real.'

  'Real?'

  'A woman who was really into it, really wanted to dominate men, not just because it paid well.'

  'Like me,' Stephanie said quietly.

  'I never went back.' He was caught up in his own thoughts. Then he seemed to realise what she had said. 'Like you? What do you mean?'

  'What I said,' she hardened the tone of her voice.

  'I don't understand.'

  'Are you particularly dim? What you said you wanted is a woman who enjoys being in control, is excited by it?'

  'Yes.'

  'Who is not pretending?'

  'Exactly.'

  'Sex is a strange animal, isn't it? Like a chameleon. So many different colours, colours to blend into the surroundings. But they also change colours to match their mood, did you know that?'

  'No.'

  'Oh yes they do. So many different moods. So many different ways to get pleasure.'

  'I suppose so.'

  'My pleasure.' Her voice was edged with steel now. She felt a frisson of excitement shudder through her body. It was an excitement that she had only experienced since she had met Devlin. But then Devlin had introduced her to so much that was new. 'Put your glass down.'

  Caplin looked puzzled. Stephanie stood up. Putting each foot in turn on the edge of the bed she stretched and smoothed the stockings over her legs, fastening them again in the suspenders. She took her time. Caplin's eyes never left her hands. When this task was completed, she stroked the thick thatch of her pubic hair, stroking it like it was an animal needing attention.

  'Do as I say,' she barked.

  Caplin obeyed immediately this time, though he did not take his eyes from her body. Stephanie smiled. Caplin was about to have his dreams come true.

  'Why aren't you erect? That's not much good to me is it? It's pathetic. You stare at me and can't manage an erection? Turn on your stomach, lie flat. Now.'

  He hesitated. She saw his cock beginning to unfurl.

  'Do it,' she snapped.

  He obeyed burying his head in the pillow. His mind was racing. Her voice was so hard, so full of authority, exactly as he'd always imagined.

  In the belt loops of his trousers she found a thin leather belt. She stripped it out of the trousers and wound the buckle end around her hand. Without pause she raised her arm and thwacked the end of the belt across his bare buttocks.

  'This is what I like,' she said, delivering a second blow. 'Now do you understand?'

  She rained blows down on to his arse. Five, six. He didn't utter so much as a whimper. The sound of leather on flesh filled the room.

  'Oh my God,' he said when she stopped after the eighth blow. 'What are you doing to me?'

  'Giving you the beating you deserve. Stand up.'

  He obeyed as though his life depended on it. As he got off the bed his penis sprung out from his groin, a totem to his needs. Regardless of the fact that he had only just come it was throbbing with excitement.

  'Bend over the bed,' she ordered.

  Again he obeyed at once. He'd always dreamt of obeying. He stuck his arse in the air; it was already crisscrossed with red welts and radiating heat.

  'Now Caplin, you little worm, you're going to come for me. Exactly when I tell you. I'm going to count to ten. At ten you will come. Understood?'

  'Yes.'

  'Yes what?' She slashed the belt down for his insolence.

  'Yes, mistress.'

  'Start then.'

  He circled his cock and started to wank. The belt fell again on his buttocks, the stroke vibrating through his body, through all the feeling centred on his cock.

  'One,' Stephanie intoned.

  He knew he'd never last till ten. His pleasure was too sharp. Stephanie had reached inside him, was manipulating the most sensitive nerve of all, the nerve over which he had absolutely no control - his mind.

  'Two.' Another stroke.

  His mind was full of fantasy. He'd heard that voice, hard and demanding, for years, heard it in his head, while he'd masturbated. He felt the whip falling, seen a woman standing above him. Now it was all real. He looked back at Stephanie, her long hair flowing, her naked breasts trembling with her effort, her long stocking clad legs, and the slash of her sex wet and exposed. But most of all, as she reached the count of five and his cock exploded in his hand pumping spunk all over his fist and the rumpled sheets of the bed, he knew what had brought him off, knew what he would always remember about that first time. It was the look in Stephanie's dark brown eyes, the look of excitement, of sheer pleasure, sparkling in those knowing eyes.

  Stephanie sat on the terrace outside her bedroom wearing a satin dressing gown she had bought at Bergdorf Goodman's. For the hundredth, or was it the thousandth, time she admired the view. Lake Trasimeno was perfectly calm. The sun was altogether lower in the sky now, and its midsummer heat had gone. But it was still a pleasant temperature and Stephanie sipped blood red orange juice and nibbled at a brioche while she waited for the powerboat to arrive.

  She didn't have to wait for long. A long white wake soon dissected the calm waters, sending out a delta of ripples for hundreds of yards as the boat headed for the island and the castle.

  Stephanie went into the bedroom and changed into a flame red Lycra catsuit. The shiny material clung to every contour of her body, so tight it even delineated the crease of her sex and the precipitous cleft of her arse. It flattened her breasts slightly but their roundness and firmness was still apparent. So were her hardened nipples. She found Ferre high heels in an almost matching red.

  By the time she got down to the jetty the powerboat was near enough for her to see the two people sitting on the padded seats in the transom, as she had arranged.

  As the boat approached she could see that Venetia was smiling. She was always struck by her beauty. She could never suppress a pang of lust whenever she saw that long fair hair, her high cheekbones, green emerald eyes and that long lithe body that had given her so much pleasure in the past. As they had not indulged in London it had been some time since Stephanie had experienced Venetia's exquisite sexually specific expertise.

  The boat glided into the rubber tyres suspended alongside the jetty. The boatman tied the lines fore and aft. He had been the boatman at the castle for years; the appearance of the passenger sitting next to Venetia came as no surprise to him. On Stephanie's explicit instructions the man was naked but for the hard leather covered metal pouch chained over his genitals by Venetia aboard the Lear jet, and a leather harness strapped across his chest, which, at the back, held his arms bound and immovable.

  Over his head a rubber mask had been pulled, one of those depicting various famous faces, politicians or film stars. This mask was, incongruously, a vivid representation of Marilyn Monroe. Under the mask he was gagged.

  As soon as the boat was secure Venetia pulled the man to his feet by a chain attached to the leather harness just below his throat. She manoeuvred him on to the jetty.

  The man's ice blue eyes saw Stephanie through the mask. It was only a week since he had last seen her.

  'Welcome to the castle, Caplin,' Stephanie said. 'I'm sure you won't be disappointed.'

  She had described what she was going to subject him to. She had told him in great detail in the suite of the Algonquin hotel. When she had then produced Devlin's contract, h
is objections to signing it had miraculously disappeared. To make sure there were no mistakes they had called in a room service waiter to witness his signature. He signed both copies. He would have done anything after what he had just experienced, anything to ensure that Stephanie remained part of his life. He had never met a woman like her: the woman of his dreams.

  'This way.' Stephanie took the leash from Venetia and lead him up the narrow stone steps. Through the mask he could see the way the shiny red Lycra moulded itself to her buttocks as she walked ahead of him. At the top of her thighs, just under her sex, there was a clear channel where her flesh curved inwards. The Lycra made it seem more obvious, more inviting. Immediately he felt his cock stirring, and a cold shock, as the unyielding metal reminded him there was no room in his bondage for unwarranted pleasure.

  They led him into the castle and down into the cellars, through into a tiny cell. If the pouch chained around him had allowed it, he would have been fully erect by the time he was installed in his new accommodation.

  'Well, Caplin,' Stephanie said pulling off the rubber mask then smoothing his white hair back into at least a rough order, 'I have some surprises for you. Some you'll like. Some you won't. Some you will no doubt find unpleasant.' She rubbed herself against his body, knowing what the feel of the slippery Lycra would do to him. 'New York is your city. Over here, at the castle, this is my place, my domain.' She took his cheeks in her hand and squeezed, and added, 'Stephanie's domain.'

  -oOo-

  Enjoy Stephanie's continuing BDSM adventures, all exclusively published as eBooks by us and available to download from your favourite online bookstore now, with the fifth in the series...

  Stephanie's Trial

  Stephanie faced his cold unwavering eyes. For once he had the power over her, total power. He could do anything with her and she knew he would. He had been her slave, now she was his.