Dark Desires (Dark Romance Boxed Set)

by Cerys du Lys

  She stepped out of the cab wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Her longish red-brown hair she had left loose and she wore minimal makeup. After the sneers she had received at the brunch, she was not going to wear anything special. The house itself was the middle of a row of four-story terraces that ran the length of the street and beyond. It was nothing remarkable, except Anna noted that Mike Stone had his house number written in letters rather than numbers next to the black front door.

  Nervously, she rang the doorbell. She half-wondered if a butler would greet her, but it was Mike himself who answered the door. Wearing pinstriped suit trousers and a white shirt with no tie, his eyebrows rose as he took her in.

  “You came,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Yes,” Anna replied. “You invited me. It would have been rude not to.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not expecting too much,” Mike said, gesturing her in. “I’ll give you an idea about what the lifestyle really means …” he trailed off in the face of her horrified expression. “Ah,” he said. “You weren’t expecting an evening of explanation, were you?”

  “Not really,” she managed to squeak out. Anna gripped her handbag with both hands, feeling more ashamed than she had even felt before. She had gone to a stranger’s house expecting sex! And all he wanted to do was enlighten her mind. There was an awkward pause.

  “I can’t accept you as a sub,” Mike said suddenly, maintaining eye contact.

  “Why not?” she shot back.

  “Because you’re a BDSM virgin with no confidence, no idea how to carry yourself and you just came round to be fucked by a stranger. Do you have any idea how unsafe that is?”

  “You have no right to judge me.” Anna replied fiercely, almost hissing at him, her hands squeezing her narrow hips. “If your so-called ‘lifestyle’ is so special to you, why wouldn’t you want to share it with others…with me?”

  She watched as Mike’s eyes scanned her critically.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” she cringed.

  “You want me to fuck you, but not to look at you?” Mike folded his arms over his chest. “Interesting.”

  “Shut up,” she said, more teasingly than she felt, standing in the marble hallway.

  “You are sure that being a submissive is a suitable role for you?” he asked, cocking his salt-and-pepper head on one side and frowning. “You seem awfully feisty to me.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and looked at the man with pleading brown eyes. Mike sighed and ruffled his hair.

  “One scene,” he said, raising a finger. “Just the one and if it’s as… If it doesn’t work out, you agree to never come here again?”

  “Yes,” Anna smiled, wondering what he had in mind. Mike raised a palm and she stopped smiling.

  “First things first,” he said carefully. “Our contract.”

  * * *

  ‘Mike Stone identifies as dominant partner. Anna Pierce identifies as submissive partner. Agreed safe word is ‘Chess’. Both partners agree to use the safe word if and when they wish to discontinue the scene…’

  The contract was not as long as Anna had expected, but it covered the basis of what was to take place. She had chosen the safe word, ‘chess’, being inspired by the place in which they had met – The White Queen Tearooms. Mike seemed to agree it was enough of a distant word, and quickly wrote out the rest of the contract and signed it. Anna’s signature was shaky. The date was set – they would meet at Mike’s house the next day, where Anna would enter the world of BDSM.

  * * *

  The leather cuffs were soft and felt secure around Anna’s slim wrists. The chain connecting them looped over a bar in the doorframe, so her arms were lifted high above her head. If she chose, she could extend the chain to rest her hands on her shoulders, but as Mike had not shown her how, her arms stayed upright. Her breasts felt painfully bare and she longed to cover them.

  “You need to expose every inch of your flesh to me,” Mike said from behind her. “Stop thinking about covering yourself and think about how you can please me.”

  Anna nodded, biting her lip. Mike had not yet given her permission to speak. She could feel the sensation of him behind her, and flinched suddenly when his hand began to glide from the back of her right knee, up her soft thigh, her buttocks and up her back. The welcome hand slid around her body and squeezed her right breast momentarily. The tingling sensation left behind was frustrating and Anna made a small noise.

  “Shush,” Mike snapped, and slapped Anna’s backside with his bare hand. “You have not been given permission to communicate. Do you want to be gagged?”

  Anna was unsure what the correct response was, and the area mike has slapped was burning. She chose to say nothing and stay still.

  “Better,” he said, and slapped her again, softer this time. Instead of pain, a strange tingling warmth spread across Anna’s buttocks and down between her thighs. Against her own better judgment, she wanted him to slap her again. When it happened, however, the shock of it made her exhale so sharply she stumbled forwards against her handcuffs, her legs spreading involuntarily to reveal an increasingly damp and pink labia.

  Mike had slapped her with a spanking paddle of leather. It made a cracking sound as it connected with the red and white flesh, and left behind a hot, fluid feeling as blood rushed to the area and made Anna’s inner sex begin to twitch.

  “So the virgin sub enjoys it, does she?” Mike stroked the inside of Anna’s thigh with the paddle. “Will she peak too soon, I wonder?”

  “I’m not a virgin,” Anna panted out. A mistake.

  “You are to me, Miss Pierce,” Mike was suddenly leaning his naked body against her and pulling her face towards his. “You are as inexperienced as they come, and you are coming already. And no one gave you permission to speak,” he let go of Anna’s face and walked away, towards the chest of drawers from which he had taken the leather paddle. There was a familiar buzzing noise, and Mike came back with a tiny, vibrating bullet. He pressed it lightly against the cleft of Anna’s taught, reddening buttocks. She felt the vibrations travel through her wounded flesh, but barely reaching the source of pleasure she still clung to as the be-all and end-all of sexuality.

  “Not now,” her Dom whispered in her ear, tracing the bullet up her spine. “But perhaps, if you behave…” he clicked the device off and placed it in a loop on Anna’s handcuffs. “Now, spare the rod…” and he cracked the paddle across a previously untouched area of Anna’s buttocks, so she twitched and wriggled, enjoying at last the warming, burning sensation caused by the mingling of pleasure and pain. At the same time, Mike’s slender fingers barely touched her as he slid his hand between her legs. Anna strained against her bonds, trying to trick her Dom into touching the pulsing, feminine area, but instead, Mike slapped her once more on the backside, leaving her gasping, before planting the key to her cuffs in her hand.

  * * *

  Anna dressed in the beige guest room, feeling horribly exposed. Her clitoris and labia were wet and pulsing, but Mike had forbidden her to touch herself, and he himself had not bothered to relieve her frustrations. As the foot of the stairs, he bid her a polite goodnight and made a date to see her the next night. The cab ride was uncomfortable as Anna’s swollen and painful bottom made it impossible to sit still. Once home, she ran herself a lukewarm bath and bathed her wounds.

  Large, rectangular patterns dotted her skin where the paddle had made contact, and she gasped to see the redness of her damaged skin. At the same time, she was elated. She had been given a beautiful room to undress in, told how to use the handcuffs and reminded of their contract – she had not considered using the safe word once, and the thought of her inner strength at denying herself release from the pain made her desperate for the next night. She only hoped her skin would not break before her resolve did.

  * * *

  The second night found them in a room at the back of Mike Stone’s impressive house. Unlike the first room, this one was furnished with a large bed
in the center.

  “I thought your arms might want a rest,” Mike said, indicating where Anna was to lie.

  “They are a little sore,” she admitted. This night, she could speak freely.

  “If you’re looking for an apology,” Mike began darkly.

  “I’m not,” Anna said, and realized it was true. If Mike had apologized, it would have ruined the façade to which she clung. Mike had not been lying about BDSM being his lifestyle. A St. Andrew’s cross was bolted to the hall at the top of the stairs, he referred to the cellar as ‘the dungeon’, and this was the second of his rooms that Anna knew to be dedicated to storing toys, equipment and devices.

  “Lie down and do not resist, unless using your safe word,” the blue-eyed man said, pushing Anna softly on the shoulder. Naked again, she tried not to think about how her stomach or breasts must look in the stark spotlights of the room. Mike’s eyes were cold, but less so than that first night in the White Queen. Perhaps he was beginning to see she could be converted to his world.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked, unsure of herself.

  Mike ran his fingers over her stomach and down, through her cropped pubic hair, before saying clearly, “Nothing. You may speak, but you must not move. And,” he whispered, “You must not orgasm without permission. Is that clear, Miss Pierce?”

  Anna nodded, gazing at the ceiling, so she never saw Mike coming with a pair of nipple clamps. She let loose a sharp cry as they bit onto her soft nipples, but also at the unexpected pleasure that shot without warning across her stomach and down to her clitoris.

  “Ah, that’s…” she fought to find the words to describe the pleasure – pain she was experiencing. It only intensified as Mike began teasing her pubic hair again, twisting the fine strands and pulling slightly, dragging the pleasure down Anna’s body from her nipples to her mound of Venus and then, lower.

  “Remember, you are forbidden to orgasm without my permission,” Mike breathed, barely audibly. Anna could barely think straight. Her nipples strained for release from their biting confines, so erect they threatened to stay into complete pain.

  Anna felt a cool, surprising wetness between her legs and realized Mike must be using some lubricant before –

  “Ah! Oh, god!” she flinched and brushed a hand involuntarily over her stomach as the vibrating magic bullet from the day before slipped inside her, still buzzing. It curved exactly against her G-Spot, trembling against her zone of pleasure that made Anna sigh and move her hips with the pulses.

  Mike put firm hands on her hips. “No moving, remember,” he said, before expertly flipping her over to expose her curvy ass – still pink and glowing from the previous night.

  “So soft,” he whispered, squeezing the flesh with the eye of a connoisseur. “You really do have a beautiful ass, Miss Pierce.” He slapped it hard enough to tremble the vibrating bullet inside her. Anna gasped and raised her ass slightly to try and say ‘more, please’, but Mike was in no mood for light games. Anna’s growing enthusiasm for pain made his lifelong obsession with dominance peak as it always did with his subs, and he wanted to do the job properly. Spanking her once more to increase her blood-flow, he turned to the chest of drawers and took out his old, faithful riding crop.

  Anna turned and saw the black leather strip coming towards her and almost shouted the safe word before deciding she could stand a little more pain, if her pleasure was to increase, too. Mike ran oil over the crop and over Anna’s flesh before lightly tapping her. His submissive slowly relaxed as she got used to the tap rather than slap on her body. As a ripple of pleasure from the touch and the vibrator coursed over her, Mike raised his arm and delivered a crack to Anna’s backside that made tears of pain spring to her eyes.

  At the same moment, heat beyond measure blossomed over her entire body, flooding her pelvis with pulsing warmth that gave forth a fresh wave of wetness. The bullet inside her pressed eagerly against her G-Spot and she almost forgot Mike’s instructions until he repeated them to her…

  “No orgasm. Until I say,” he said slowly, bringing the crop down with each word. Mike had magnificent aim, and it seemed to Anna that each stroke landed directly on top of the last, intensifying the sensation, heat and pleasure that coursed through her.

  “Shit, god, please,” she struggled to keep herself from tensing her pelvic floor. Mike noticed and placed a knee between her legs, nudging them apart to see the moist pinkness inside.

  “No,” he said gently, stroking from her clitoris, over her vagina and stopping at her anus, pressing lightly. “Not until I say,” he smiled. She was getting the idea.

  “Just… can’t you..?”

  “Fuck you? Why should I give you what I want? You are mine, to do with as I wish.”

  “Yes, but – “

  “Yes? You agree?”

  “Yes! Jesus!” Anna pressed her pelvis against the bed and received a slap across her pulsating bottom for her trouble. “You’ve got that fucking contract, you can do what you want, just…”

  “Just give you your release?”

  “Please,” she almost sobbed as Mike squeezed her flesh. He seemed to be considering her request.

  “You are breaking the first rule of our relationship,” he said, pinching her hard so she squealed. “You are asking me to relinquish my dominance.”

  “No!” she gasped as her nipples grazed the sheets and shocks of joy travelled over her skin. “I don’t mean – “

  “You are defying me,” Mike said dangerously.

  “I don’t – “

  “So you must be punished,” he finished, raising from the bed and leaving the room. Anna watched him go out of the corner of her eye, and brushed her loose hair out of her face. He was more athletic than his suits let on – a good, curving back ended in a strong, tight ass. Cycling had given his impressive thighs and calves, but the real feature was Mike’s face. In another life, he could have been a model, but years of slaving at an office desk, becoming a CEO, had taken their toll. The only true beauty left in his face were those shocking blue eyes. Eyes that now returned, hard and cold on the face of a fully clothed Mike Stone.

  “Get out,” he said, throwing Anna’s dress at her. “This is your punishment. Our scene is over.”

  “What?” She quickly sat up, self-conscious, the vibrator still inside her.

  “I have ended our scene. This is what I desire. I am in charge, so get out of my house,” he snapped, his eyes ablaze.

  “Is this…?” she reached delicately inside herself and extracted the buzzing device, flinging it onto the bed.

  “Goodbye? Certainly not,” he replied. “But our scene is over. You need to learn discipline, if you are to be my sub for much longer.”

  “I… I will,” she said, pulling on her dress. Mike had not averted his eyes once as she removed the vibrator or dressed. “I will try harder.”

  “I know you will,” Mike said, indicating the stairs. As Anna descended and the door slammed behind her, Mike lay down on the still-warm sheets where his submissive had lain, feeling her heat and inhaling her smell. It was a good thing he had ended the scene. Because it was not she who had nearly lost control of their relationship… it was him.

  Outside, clouds covered the moon in the gathering dark.

  * * *

  It was some weeks before Anna heard from Mike again. The incident had left a sour taste in Anna’s mouth and the feeling of being watched became almost overwhelming. Anna constantly replayed the moment Mike Stone had ordered her naked body out of his house – his imposing stance only emphasized by the sharp grey suit he had donned.

  “Get out,” he had said, throwing Anna’s dress at her. “This is your punishment. Our scene is over.”

  Anna cringed as the memory popped into her head once again.

  “Everything alright?” Kay said, peering into Anna’s glasses. She blinked hurriedly and went red. “You ok?”

  “Hmm? Yeah, I’m just fine,” Anna picked up the batch of reports and took them ove
r to her desk, hardly hearing what her friend was saying to her. Mike’s face was blazing in her mind’s eye, as though their scene was still continuing. She had taken out her copy of their contract last night and re-read it, absorbing parts she had previously missed in her haste to get her initiation started.

  “The submissive will be required to obey all orders given by the dominant party, without question. Any questioning or defiance from the submissive may result in the immediate termination of the contract…”

  ‘…may result…’ those words stuck out prominently to Anna. Mike had ordered her from his house, but had clearly said that that did not signify the end of their contract. Yet, there had been no letters, phone calls or emails inviting her back. It was torture to go home and find no messages, to pick up her cell whenever it rang as though it were the most precious jewel on earth. It was even torture to drive past the area where Mike lived, as though the very air was charged with some indefinable sexual electricity.

  Evenings now found Anna staring into the middle distance, lost in thought, or writhing in bed as she attempted to recreate the feelings Mike had stirred in her. But even though she felt aroused and ready from running her fingers over her own soft flesh and secret places, she could find no release. There was something missing from making love to herself that meant orgasm eluded her. She spent the night sweating and gripping the very sheets with frustration.

  Anna had always been aware of her own sexuality, but had never been a vastly sexual person. She had enjoyed erotica and pornography as well as pleasuring herself, but had always seen sex as some sort of transaction – you gave in order to receive. Here, lost in a world where her dreams were saturated with spanking paddles and handcuffs, simply imagining the pleasure did not seem to be enough any more.