I am Yours (An Alpha Male BDSM Romance)

by Linnea May

  “What have I told you?” he asked, now gently stroking my burning skin.

  “Not to touch your belt,” I whispered, defeated.

  “Will you remember from now on?”

  “Yes, sir.” I promised. “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be sorry. Obey,” he snapped, still stroking my behind. “Get up.”

  I did as I was told and looked up at him apologetically. He smiled, now softly caressing my cheek.

  “You wonderful, cute girl,” he whispered. “You have so much to learn.”

  He planted a soft kiss on my mouth and removed the belt from my neck. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. He was driving me insane. I caught myself panting again, staring at him, longing, wanting. Of course, he acknowledged my yearning with a satisfied smile.

  I, on the other hand, had a hard time coming to grips with what was happening with me. He had just painfully spanked me for trying to remove a belt he had strangled me with—and I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone else before. This was fucked up.

  “Come,” he said. He took my hand, leading me into the bathroom.

  The bathroom was almost as big as the hotel room itself. It was sparkling clean, all in white, with a giant bathtub that could be turned into a whirlpool. He started the hot water and ordered me to look for bath salts. I quickly found them and poured something that promised to smell like yuzu, a Japanese citrus fruit.

  “Oh, lights,” I squeaked like a little girl when I saw the control panel for the bathroom lights. I started playing around with it, while he was watching me, amused.

  “Is this okay?” I asked after I had turned the bath into a mystically glowing room of blue and violet. Steam was rising from the bathtub. I could faintly see him smile.

  “Perfect,” he whispered. “Just like you.”

  He came closer, wrapping his arms around me. Another kiss, and another reminder how much I still wanted him. He made it worse by letting the tips of his fingers wander down to my belly, my hips, and between my legs.

  “You are so wet again,” he whispered. “Such a good girl.”

  If I hadn’t been aroused before, I sure as hell would have been after this point. I moaned and closed my eyes. He continued skillfully caressing my clit while kissing me with incredible greed.

  He did not fuck me in the bathtub, as I had expected. Instead he ordered me get on all fours in front of it, placing my hands on the edge of the bathtub. Steam was surrounding us and especially my face, placed so near to the hot water that was releasing the fresh and relaxing smell of yuzu. He got down behind me and was inside me with one, deep push. I moaned, leaning back to welcome him. He slowly started thrusting in and out, getting into a painfully slow rhythm.

  I started moving, trying to edge him on to move faster.

  But he held me back.

  “No,” he whispered. “Slowly.”

  I groaned and removed my right hand from the edge of the bathtub to touch my clit.

  “Good girl.”

  The hot water was still running, steadily overshadowing my panting and the sound of his deep, slow thrusts inside me.

  “Please,” I begged. “Faster…”

  “No,” was his simple answer. “You come like this my pet, or not at all.”

  I moaned desperately. This was torture. Sweet, erotic torture. And of course he knew better than me. I could feel my orgasm building up, slowly, steadily, the pulsing increasing with every deep thrust he blessed me with. I had never been fucked in such a slow, deep rhythm over such a long period of time. The intensity of it, mixed with the heat and the steamy air, led me into a captivating vertigo.

  But it did not let me forget the rules, for once.

  “May I come?” I asked, just to be sure.

  “Yes, you may,” he answered, not changing his pace. He grabbed my hips with a strong grip, causing just enough pain to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

  And after just another two or three thrusts, I came. Hard, but quietly. He moaned when my muscles tightened around his cock, but he did not change the pace even then.

  That night, he blessed me with the most intense, longest orgasm I had ever had in my life.

  5

  I knew I wanted to see him again. I knew I was pleased. More than that. Positively surprised, satisfied, yearning for more.

  He had left the hotel room in the middle of the night, saying that he had to work during the weekend. It sounded weird to me, but I had no way of knowing if what he said was the truth or not. And it was none of my business either.

  Knowing that there were no trains running until the morning, I decided to stay behind and didn’t leave the room until check out time at ten a.m. the next morning.

  Fortunately, he didn’t make me wait long to let me know what he thought about our play date. The first message appeared just as I had gotten home.

  “How is my beautiful baby doll?”

  It was hard to suppress a stupid giggle when I found his message on my phone.

  “Very good,” I replied. “And you? Tired?”

  Luckily, he didn’t let me wait long.

  “I’m smiling. I can’t stop smiling.”

  “Did I please you?” I asked, even though the answer appeared to be obvious.

  “Would I smile if you didn’t?” he wrote. “I thought you were beautiful before we met, but I underestimated how sexy you are. You made me very happy. And now I have a new beautiful pet to train, to enjoy and to devour.”

  Train, enjoy, devour. God, yes.

  “Now tell me, did you enjoy being with your new master?” he wanted to know.

  “Yes, sir. Very much!”

  “Tell me what you thought of last night,” he demanded. “I want to know what you were thinking before you met me, while you met me, and after you met me. Was I what you expected?”

  Funny that he should ask the question that was burning in my mind as well. Was I what you expected?

  “You were. More than that,” I replied.

  “Tell me how you felt,” he repeated.

  “I was a little scared at first. Quite scared. When we went to the hotel, I felt like you had kidnapped me. Not knowing what would happen. But I was curious. Scarily curious.”

  “Go on,” he demanded.

  “You drove me crazy with what you said at the izakaya,” I admitted.

  “I noticed. It drove me wild,” he wrote. “You were so cute the entire time. A very good girl.”

  “That makes me happy to hear,” I replied.

  “Now, when can I see you again?”

  Today? Tomorrow? If it were up to me, I would run right back to Kabukicho in that very moment. But luckily, I was a rational, responsible person who was painfully aware of the fact that housework had to be done, groceries to be bought, sleep needed to caught up on, and there was a coworker who I was to see for lunch the next day. No playing around tonight.

  “I can’t say yet…” I hesitantly replied.

  “Any time is fine with me,” he wrote. “I just want to sink my teeth into my new pet. I can’t tell you enough how much I enjoyed last night.”

  “So did I.”

  “Are any parts of your body sore?” he asked.

  Jeez. Making me sore appeared to be part of the fun for him. I was sore in several areas, but especially between my legs. That was another reason why it would be a bad idea to see him again too soon.

  “Yeah, I am,” I admitted.

  “Good,” he simply replied. “Still, is there any chance I can see you again tonight?”

  So I was not the only one in danger of falling to addiction. It was hard to say no to him, but probably wiser.

  “No, sorry, not tonight. I am meeting friends for drinks.”

  That was a lie, but I figured it would be easier for him to understand if I had other plans.

  “That is a pity but okay,” he said. “You should know, I’m not a jealous man but I am very possessive. I want to know when someone uses my pet.”

  Oh, t
hat thought had never even occurred to me.

  “Don’t forget, you’re mine,” he added. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” I replied. “I am yours.”

  It felt so liberating to be called his possession.

  “I want to train you more,” he said. “I want to teach you that you ask for permission from your Master when you do something.”

  My Master’s in social sciences certainly did not help in understanding what was going on with me. Why I was so captivated by him? And why, even now, could I feel a slight arousal emerging with the things he said?

  “What do you want to do with me next?” I asked.

  “I won’t tell you right now. You have been a good girl. But I’ll get more demanding with time.”

  Gosh, I wanted him to!

  “I might be available tomorrow,” I wrote. Okay, forget about being reasonable.

  “Good. Let me know when you find out. We’re drawn together like magnets. I want more of you.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “You are special,” he continued, being charming. “I like that I met you with a kiss first and ended the night with so much more.”

  “You are so charming.” I tried to dismiss his overly nice words.

  “I am just honest,” he objected. “I could kiss your lips and entire body for hours.”

  “And you did.”

  “And you loved it.”

  “I did, sir.”

  “You were a pleasure to enjoy, love. Every inch of you was beautiful: your voice, your face, your body, your obedience. You are everything I could ever want.”

  “Are you trying to convince me to see you tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” he replied. “I told you, I need to train you more. Soon.”

  This time I dared to ask, “Train me?”

  I still had just a small idea of what this training could entail.

  “You were a good girl for your first time,” he said. “But you kept forgetting to reply, remember?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  How could I forget? My behind was still hurting from the few spankings I had received for my forgetfulness.

  “Still, you pleased me more than you will ever know,” he added.

  “Tomorrow might work,” I said. “But we can’t go too crazy, because I am sore. And it can’t be too late. I have to work on Monday.”

  “No worries; so do I,” he said. “I will be gentle this time, even if it will be hard. Literally.”

  “Okay. Let’s say a bit earlier—six p.m.?”

  “Yes. Same place,” he suggested.

  “Okay.”

  “Great. I look forward to sinking my teeth into you again.”

  “Gently,” I soothed.

  “Of course, gently,” he promised.

  The winking smiley he added to the message suggested otherwise.

  6

  He looked exactly the same and stood in the exact same place, waiting for me. And he welcomed me the exact same way—by pulling me toward him, pushing one of his hands on my back, tilting my head back with the other, and greedily invading my mouth with a kiss.

  Only this time I didn’t even think about trying to escape his grip or about the curiosity of meeting with a stranger like this. I had been looking forward to this kiss the entire day. My Sunday had been occupied with this man. It had been a long day, and a long wait. And I was wearing something special for him: stockings that made me constantly aware of how much I wanted him to fuck me, no matter what.

  The kiss stopped way too early. He still held me close, our faces almost touching. Again, I was out of breath, and so, so turned on. Within seconds.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked. His eyes were firmly directed at mine. The intensity of his look aggravated my heavy breathing.

  “Yes,” I gasped, sounding as if I had just run a marathon.

  He looked satisfied. A knowing smile flashed across his face. He knew he had me. That I was his. I was literally melting in his hands.

  “I can feel your heart pounding,” he whispered and leaned down for another kiss, a short, gentle peck on the lips. “Why is your heart racing like this?”

  Instead of replying, I let out a little moan, because his hand wandered down my back, gently stroking my spine.

  “Are you happy to see me? Is that it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and let go of his grip.

  “You really have to remember to reply, my pet,” he warned. “I am gentle on you now, because you’re new. But I won’t tolerate it much longer.”

  I looked up at him, nodding. Just to be sure, I added, “Yes, sir.”

  He smiled, satisfied. “Take my hand.”

  I followed his order only too willingly and happily paced next to him when we made our way through the crowds, heading toward Kabukicho.

  “What have you planned?” I asked.

  “Just to be close to you,” he said.

  I kept pressing. “Where are we going? What will we do tonight?”

  “Curious pet you are,” he said, looking at me cautiously. Then, without warning, he pulled me close to him with a sudden tug, forcing me to stand still. He leaned down, and for a moment I thought he was going to present me with another kiss, but instead he started to whisper in my ear.

  “I just want you and everything you are. I will take and feel what is mine. Whenever I want it. Do you understand?”

  I nodded helplessly.

  “Don’t forget who I am, my pet. Just because I think you are beautiful does not mean you stop being mine, no matter where we are and who is with us.”

  What? What was he talking about? I couldn’t hide my fear when I looked up at him.

  “Where are we going?” I repeated, so faint I wasn’t sure if he could even hear me.

  My fear made him smile. He enjoyed frightening me. I reacted exactly as he wanted me to. With fear and curiosity. He knew I would probably say yes to almost everything he wanted from me.

  “Well, you said you are sore, so there’s not much I can do to you tonight, right?” he said.

  “Um, yeah, but…”

  “We’ll just have a drink,” he said. “Do you know Golden Gai?”

  “Sure,” I nodded.

  Golden Gai was a nightlife area within Kabukicho; it was a network of six narrow alleys that were connected by even narrower passageways which were just wide enough for a single person to pass through them. Even though the area was so small, there were more than two hundred tiny bars and eateries squeezed within the alleys, most of them shanty-style and were only big enough for a handful of customers.

  “It’s a good place to hide,” the wolf whispered. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but eagerly followed him.

  We strolled though the alleys for a few minutes, soaking in the atmosphere. It was still early and a Sunday night, so the crowds were comparably manageable—for Tokyo standards, anyway.

  Eventually, we squeezed into a tiny shed right in the middle of the turmoil. There were only five seats stretched along a single bar. Two of the seats were taken by a couple of younger guys, who glanced at us when we entered.

  We greeted them in Japanese and sat down at the counter.

  “I don’t know if they have ginger highballs here,” he said. “But their Moscow mule is great.”

  “Moscow mule?” I said, smiling. “I love those!”

  “I kind of figured you would, my pet,” he said, winking at me. “You like it spicy. Spicy ginger. Don’t you?”

  “Exactly.”

  He stroked my arm and ordered our drinks. Even through the fabric of my jacket, his touch felt electric. I knew we couldn’t get too crazy while we were here or show any sort of affection at all. This was still frowned upon in Japan, even in bars in Golden Gai.

  But it was hard not lean in for a kiss. The place was tiny and na
rrow, and we were squeezed closely to each other. I could feel him breathe and felt so incredibly drawn to him, as if an invisible was cord was pulling me closer. Restraining myself took a lot of effort.

  And I knew the feeling was mutual.

  The bartender noisily parked our drinks in front of us, mumbling the usual “Enjoy your drink” phrase. I didn’t miss his suspicious look—even he could feel it.

  “Kampai,” the wolf whispered, raising his copper mug.

  “Kampai.”

  He was right, this was a damn good Moscow mule, with a super strong, spicy ginger taste. They were exquisite.

  “So?” he asked.

  “You were right, these are amazing!” I said. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  He smiled as I took another sip.

  “How come you don’t want to tell me what you’re doing for a living?” I asked. “You must be good at it, whatever it is.”

  A mysterious smile appeared on his face.

  “Maybe I am one of the bad guys,” he replied. “Someone who knows how trick people, how to take advantage of them. Would that scare you?”

  I looked at him with wide eyes. “Well, are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “One of the bad people.”

  “Maybe,” he whispered. “But not to you. I will always be good to my pet.”

  “I guess that is all that should matter to me,” I said, casting him a sheepish smile.

  “Exactly,” he agreed.

  7

  As the wolf used his right hand to keep me pinned against the wall, with my right cheek pushed against the concrete of an old two-story building, he pulled up my skirt with his left, and was delighted to notice that I was not wearing tights but stockings.

  “Oh, you’re such a little whore,” he whispered in my ear. “My little whore.”

  It was dark. We escaped to a little backyard—not sure who it belonged to—in the midst of Kabukicho. I could hear it. The life of this neighborhood that never slept. I could hear music, voices, cars, singing traffic lights. It was right there, and I was in the middle of it. Golden Gai was directly next door. Yet, no one saw me. No one except the wolf, who owned me and was allowed to do as he pleased.

  The greatness of those Moscow mules turned out to be my downfall that night. We’d had a few drinks, more than I had anticipated. He was not holding me back tonight and I wasn’t sure why. I was drunk, too drunk. I had eaten too little and drank too much. My nerves had gotten the better of me.