Sexed Into Submission

by Julie Bailes

I go over and sit in the rocking chair next to Piper. She looks significantly better since we arrived. Her cheeks are blushed with color, and no longer white and pasty. Resting my hand on her leg, I admire her peaceful face while she sleeps, and all that ‘man up’ shit goes out the window. I’ve only been in love once, or at least I made myself believe I was. The feelings I have for Piper, this stronghold she has on me, it’s indescribable, nothing I’ve experienced before. We’ve only known each other for about a month, but I would do anything for this woman. I’d jump in front of a train, or take a bullet to my brain for her, which could have happened earlier. What Piper and I share is undeniable, undefinable, and undying love. Though she’ll never admit it, I know she feels it too. I feel it in her touch. It shines through her eyes, and it terrifies her. I’ll never be the first to admit it, but I’m just as much hers as she is mine.

  Thirteen

  Piper

  Waking up, I feel groggy. As soon as my eyes open, I smile at the beautiful man by my side observing me. Although Ryder’s eyes are tired and bloodshot, they aren’t any less stunning. “Hey,” I croak, my throat feeling sore.

  “Por fin, mi belleza se despierta,” he mumbles, leaning up and placing a tender kiss onto my lips. I don’t have a clue what it is he said, but he calls me belleza often.

  “What does that mean, belleza?” I ask, hoarsely.

  “Beauty,” he smiles, gazing into my eyes and lifting my hand to his lips.

  As I lose myself in his captivating greens, he smothers the back of my hand with wet, passionate kisses. Jolts of electricity radiate up my arm, and I jerk my hand from his, frightened with how responsive my body is to his touch. Breaking our gaze, I skim the room for something to drink. On a table beside my bed sits a pink ice bucket and paper cups. Sitting up, I throw the five layers of covers from my body and go to stand.

  “Uh, I don’t think so, beauty. Lie back down,” Ryder demands, standing from his chair, and forcing me back onto the bed. Glaring at him, I lie back and let him tuck the covers around me. “What is it you need, Piper?”

  “I would love some water,” I answer, pointing to the table. Walking to where the bucket sits, he pours me a cup full of water. Extending the water to me, I take it from his hand and sip it slowly. The icy liquid glides down smoothly, and quickly soothes my scratchy throat. “You don’t have to wait on me, Ryder. I’m perfectly capable of pouring myself something to drink.”

  “Reality check, sweetheart, you are in a hospital bed, and that proves you as incapable, for now,” he says, matter-of-factly.

  “Just because I’m in here doesn’t make me incompetent of doing things for myself,” I argue.

  Sitting back into the rocker, he cocks his head, crosses his arms, and arches a brow. “I’d watch the tone you take with me, belleza. You’re already in deep shit for being careless, and scaring the piss out of me. Your payback list is long enough as is.”

  Payback list? For what? “Now that you mention it, why am I here?” The last thing I remember is finding out my best friend has been fucking my father. Not only has she been boning him, she’s growing his spawn. I remember going out to the bar and having a few drinks, but that’s it. I can’t think of anything that would have contributed to me winding up in a hospital bed.

  “For reasons unknown, you decided to drink your body weight in vodka. What the hell were you thinking, Piper? You almost killed yourself. I risked my life saving yours,” he apprises, yawning and rubbing his hands up and down the sides of his face.

  He’s been here the entire time, that much is obvious, but why? He could have dropped me off and went on his merry way, but he didn’t. He stayed, and that both thrills and terrifies me.

  “Thank you, but you shouldn’t have jeopardized your life for mine. Really, I’m not worth the risk,” I admit. Sure, I’m worth taking to the hospital, but offering his life for mine? That’s just absurd.

  “Are you out of your damn mind?” he snaps, pushing from the rocker. Pacing the floor at the foot of my bed, he runs his hands through his tousled hair.

  “Ryder, chill out. I’m simply saying that if our roles would have been reversed, I wouldn’t have sacrificed my life for yours. You should feel the same,” I explain.

  Cackling, he drops his head and shakes it slowly. “Tu me vuelves loca,” he utters.

  “You keep speaking to me in Spanish. Ryder, I don’t know what you are saying to me. Translate,” I urge.

  Scampering to my bedside, he leaps over the foot of my bed and lines his body on top of mine. “I said, you drive me crazy. Completely fucking crazy. You tell me lies, beauty. You say you wouldn’t give your life for mine, but deep down, you wouldn’t think twice about doing so,” he assumes, penetrating my soul with his intense gaze.

  This man, he will cause irreparable damage to my heart. He’s the one thing I need to walk away from, but I can’t find the strength to do it. He is my addiction. His touch, his gaze, and his words are my only cure. “You should stop getting so affected by me,” I jest, breathless.

  “Impossible,” he yawns, kissing the bridge of my nose and pushing off the bed. “Care to tell me what drove you to drinking?” He isn’t asking me to elucidate. He’s nicely demanding it.

  “I don’t know. It could have been when I locked eyes with my father in the midst of my performance, and realized he watched me flaunt my bare assets before a hundred or so members,” I begin, cringing from the memory. “Or maybe, just maybe, it was when I discovered the guy my friend has been banging, the man who impregnated her, just so happens to be my father,” I divulge.

  “Damn, Piper, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You should have come to me. Believe me, baby, I have ways to relieve your stress,” he winks, sporting a sinfully sexy smile. Oh, I believe him all right. “I’m going to let the nurses know you’re awake, and find out when I can take you home,” he lets me know, walking out the door.

  While I’m still unsure how I ended up in the hospital, it’s the least of my concerns. My only concern is how Ryder has all of my walls caving in around me, making me vulnerable to emotional suffering.

  ***

  Several hours later, I’m on my way home. As we approach the intersection that divides Ryder’s home from mine, he makes a left turn and drives us to his house. “Uh, why are we going to your house? I need to go home to shower and change into some clean clothes,” I protest. Stopping at a four-way stop, he turns right and continues toward his destination. “Ryder, please, take me home,” I beseech.

  He ignores my request. Checking the rearview mirrors, I look to see if there are any cars behind us. When I see there isn’t a car in sight, I reach between us and pull the emergency break. The car comes to an immediate stop. Unlike myself, Ryder isn’t able to brace himself and his head slams into the windshield. “Goddammit, Piper. Do you have some sort of death wish you’re trying to fulfill?”

  At the sight of blood, I instantly regret pulling the break. Taking his face between my hands, I turn his head to me and wipe the blood away with my thumb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to get your attention,” I explain, kissing his wound.

  “You don’t have to ram my head through glass to get it,” he spits.

  “You wouldn’t listen to me,” I defend. He takes my hands and pushes me back into my seat. Then, he releases the break and takes me to his house, despite my request.

  When we’re inside his garage, he unbuckles from his seat and turns to face me. “I didn’t listen to you because my mind was made up since before we left the hospital. You are staying here. You may have been discharged, but I don’t want you at home alone. I’ve called Dean and informed him that you won’t be in the rest of the weekend.” I open my mouth to object, but he covers my mouth with his hand. “Don’t dispute it, beauty. You’ll only be wasting your breath. Get out of the car and I’ll run you a bath.” Not leaving any room for protest, he leaves me to go inside.

  When I get inside Ryder’s home, I climb the stairs and follow the s
ound of running water. When I find Ryder, he’s completely naked, standing in a two-person, Jacuzzi tub that is built into the floor. He waves me over and I go to him. Placing his hands into my waistband, he slides the shorts down my legs while I remove my top. Grabbing my hips, he picks me up and lowers me into the soothing hot water. Sitting, he spreads his legs and sits me in between them. I rest my head onto his chest, and his raging hard-on presses into the middle of my back.

  After Ryder wets my hair, a refreshing and revitalizing smell invades my senses as he lathers my hair with shampoo. “Sorry, I don’t keep that smell good girly shit stashed away anywhere.”

  Lost in the scent, I shrug. “It’s fine. I like the smell of you.”

  He drenches a loofa, and squeezes water onto my hair to wash the suds away. “You like the smell of me, do you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. With body wash covered hands, he takes his precious time massaging every inch of me, kneading away the soreness that earlier consumed my muscles. After he’s finished washing my body, he tosses the loofa into the wrath of the jets and slides his hand between my legs. Gently inserting his fingers, he moves them in and out at an unbearably slow, delicious pace.

  “You see, belleza, there are several things I love about you, and this is just one of them,” he breathes. The tempo of his fingers increase in speed, and moan after sneaky moan passes my lips. “That’s right, mi amor. Love the way I make you feel.” Using his thumb to stimulate my clit, he presses his fingers deeper, teasing my G-spot with the same come-hither motion he’s done before.

  “Mmm, yes,” I moan.

  “And that, the sound of you moaning and coming undone, crumbling beneath my touch, it drives me in-fucking-sane, nena.” With his free hand he reaches around to capture my left breast and teases my nipple.

  His mouth claims my neck, sucking and providing me with my favorite type of pleasure when he sinks his teeth into the top of my shoulder. The pang from his bites, accompanied by his rhythmic fingers sends my orgasm rippling through me like a heat wave. “Ryder, faster,” I whimper.

  “My beauty, you have no clue how badly I want to let you come, but it’s not going to happen,” he informs, abruptly removing his fingers.

  “No, please, don’t stop,” I cry out, drunk on sin and thirsty for more.

  “This is only the beginning of merciless punishment I have lined up for you,” he promises. What an inconsiderate, controlling ass he is. He thinks he can bring me this close to coming and just fucking stop? Well, I’ve got news for him. This is my pussy, and I will do with it what I want. Although I’m more frustrated than a blind man with a Where’s Waldo? book, I don’t let my agitation show.

  Sloshing to the opposite side of the tub, I lift my leg and rest it over the side. Guiding my hand down the middle of my slick stomach, I sink my fingers into my clenching channel. Lifting my nipple to my mouth, I point the tip of my tongue and use it to circle my taut bud. Parting my lips, I let out slow and sexy breaths.

  “So help me, beauty, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll remove your fingers, right fucking now,” he warns, his heart-stopping greens boring through my sexually frustrated blues.

  “No, Ryder, if you know what’s good for you, you will stop denying me,” I sass.

  Before I have a chance to blink, Ryder’s brawny hands capture my wrist and remove my fingers from my sizzling core. "What did I tell you?” Grasping my chin, he uses his thumb to pull my lip from my teeth. “This,” he hisses, pinching my swollen and throbbing clit, “this beautifully lascivious cunt, always so wet and ready for me, is mine, not yours,” he claims, blissfully torturing me as he rolls my aching bundle of nerves between his possessive fingers.

  “More,” I groan.

  “I’m going to give you more, but you will not come, Piper. I was going to give you a day to recover, but you have been a bad girl, belleza. I’m going to teach you a lesson or two about defying me and endangering both our lives. Now, get out of this damn water and go over to my bed,” he orders. Without hesitation, I stand from the water and he helps me onto the floor. “Is there a towel I can use to dry off?”

  “No use in drying off, you’ll be drenched in sweat momentarily. Now, go,” he dismisses, pointing me to where he wants me to stand. Walking over to his expensive Folsom bed, I realize I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Last time I was here, I didn’t pay attention to the type of bed Ryder owns. To the normal eye, those oblivious to the BDSM lifestyle, the Folsom appears rustic and elegant, but a sub knows differently. With restraint hoops on all corners, and sling hoops at the top of each bedpost, it allows simple installation of chains and can transform from fashionably chic to dark dungeon in the matter of minutes.

  “Climb onto the mattress, lie flat on your back, and spread your arms wide above your head,” Ryder instructs, his warm breath brushing the side of my neck and sending chills down my spine. Getting onto the bed, I relax into the velvety sheets and anxiously await my punishment. Lying in a position of surrender, I give him silent approval to do whatever he wants with my body.

  Ryder removes a large box from under his bed and rummages through it, retrieving four leather restraints. First, he spreads my legs and restrains my ankles. Then, he places his lips to my underarm and trails feather-like kisses up my arm and around my wrist before binding them to the posts. “You remember the safe word, yes?” he asks, standing with his hands loosely resting on the crest of his prominent hips.

  “Yes, I remember,” I nod, exhilaration surging through my every nerve.

  “Good. Lift your head.” As I lift my head, Ryder ties a silky black scarf over my eyes. It takes a moment for my auditory senses to kick in, and all I hear is silence. The unknown causes my heart to gallop and my breathing to quicken as I anticipate Ryder’s next move. After a few moments of absolutely nothing, Ryder takes me by surprise by tickling the swell of my breast with a feather. The unexpected tickle causes me to squirm, and I receive a vicious bite to the apex of my thigh. “What was that for,” I groan.

  “Quedate quieto.”

  “What does that me—”

  “You will learn soon enough, mi amor,” he interjects, landing a ferocious sting to my nipple before I finish my question.

  Attempting to be the submissive he desires, I bite my tongue and swallow my witty remark. All of a sudden, the intoxicating smell of leather fills my nostrils. The feel of leather trailing across my clavicle stimulates many sensual sensations. Gliding the leather up the front of my neck, he uses the split tip to tap my lips. “I told you this would get you into trouble, yeah?”

  The mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed and settles between my spread-eagle legs. Believing that his question is rhetorical, I don’t attempt to answer him. Big mistake. Huge. Swiftly, Ryder removes the crop from my lip and slaps my clit. The sharp bite left behind takes my breath away. “How many times must I tell you to use your words?” he scolds, the crop biting my pussy once more. “Look where your orneriness has gotten you, nena,” he tsks. “I want nothing more than to pleasure you, my love, but you have to give me a reason to do so. You’re selfish, Piper. Do you know how fucking terrified I was for you?”

  Bringing his mouth to my clit, he licks me briefly. “You damn near gave me a heart attack,” he confesses, his mouth devouring my pussy. Licking, sucking, biting, and fucking me with his tongue, he claims what is rightfully his. With all my might, I try not to squirm, but his talented tongue has me fighting the restraints and panting with delight.

  My body starts to tremble as I reach a pinnacle of release. “Yes, Ryder. Fucking yes,” I hiss, head spinning and overdosing with ecstasy. Brusquely, he withdraws his mouth, hindering my orgasm once again. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Ryder,” I complain.

  “On the contrary, baby. I can,” he affirms, nibbling various places of my stomach. “I’m not even halfway finished disciplining you. Rest assured, mi amor, I’m going to make you hurt so fucking good,” he vows, his teeth piercing my side. “Twelve las
hes to go, sweetheart,” he advises.

  With another stinging bite, this one to the outside of my thigh, he reaches behind my head and unties the scarf. “What?” I gasp.

  Rolling off the bed, he unbuckles the restraints from my ankles and flips me over onto my stomach.

  “Last night, you hit me twelve times, and I promised to return them,” he tells me, looking through the items inside the box he pulled from under his bed. My eyes widen when Ryder pulls a metal-tipped bootlace flogger from the box. Feeling a tug between my legs, I give my ass a sultry sway. Smiling, he caresses the studded tails almost tenderly before licking my ass with the heavy leather. With each strike he gives, I latch onto my tongue to prevent myself from screaming. The pain is almost unbearable, but I never even consider calling the safe word, not even once. Instead, I relish the sensations of each stroke. Not only is my pain his pleasure, it’s mine. Carelessly calling the safe word would be no different from me spitting in Ryder’s face. It’s humiliating.

  The first two shots take my breath away. Repeated licks bring tears to my eyes. Five more lashes, and I’m bleeding. The trickling crimson drops are welcomed, cooling the inflamed stripes covering my backside. Two more licks, that’s all it takes to ignite the unrestrained fire between my legs, and I’m fiercely, yet quietly coming undone. When Ryder delivers his last lash, he flings the flogger across the room and removes the restraints from my wrist. My energy sapped from a flogging and defeating climax, I fall face first into the mattress.

  Immediately, Ryder accompanies me on the bed and begins aftercare. His hands tenderly caress my red-hot cheeks, and his lips kiss every bit of blood-stained skin. As his pacifying fingers wander along my broken skin, he slithers his fingers between my slippery folds. “You came?” he questions, disappointed yet somewhat amused. Obviously, with the evidence of my release dripping from his fingertips, he doesn’t need a verbal confirmation. So, I simply nod. “Again, my beauty, I didn’t tell you that you could come,” he frowns. For the first time, ever, I feel ashamed for displeasing him.