by Lea Griffith
They ate in silence, and when she was finished she pushed her plate away, leaned back, and stretched. She started to get up and wash the dishes, but Tobias stopped her, so she let him both cook and clean.
There was no sun this morning. She would have felt it coming through the large bank of windows on this side of his house. He’d once described his house to her—a very large, very open two-story that overlooked a small lake owned by the Homeowners’ Association for his development. He’d had it designed with huge, floor-to-ceiling windows to let as much light in as possible. Ruthie had sat in front of those windows every chance she’d gotten because of the warmth of the sun.
“What do you know about submission?” he asked from behind her.
Ruthie had been so lost in her thoughts that his question startled her. She turned in her seat toward the sound of his voice. She put him at the entry of the kitchen, probably leaning against the doorjamb.
“Other than what I’ve experienced with you, very little,” she responded with a shrug. She got off the bar stool and walked to the windows, placing her hands over the glass, craving the sunshine.
She heard his footfalls, and then his heat wrapped around her as surely as his arms did. Tobias pulled her into his large frame, and there was the warmth she so desperately sought.
“Then you don’t know much except the bite and kiss of my flogger,” he mused, placing his chin on top of her head.
She held onto his arms. “If that is part of submission, it was beautiful, even if it didn’t last nearly long enough.”
He hardened against her bottom, the cotton of his pajama pants no match for the steel of his cock. She smiled in feminine satisfaction. She did that to him and it made her heart fly.
“I think you want to bring me to my knees, woman,” he murmured at her ear.
“I want you any way I can get you.”
He squeezed her tighter and her throat clogged in emotion. Days ago this was a dream for her, and now it was reality. How many nights had she lain awake wanting his touch? His embrace? Too many.
The quiet rode shotgun in their moment, and she was fine with the silence. Then he shifted, sitting down in a massive chair and pulling her onto his lap. This left her turned sideways, her feet hanging off the side of the chair, and tucked against his body tightly. One of his arms was wrapped around her, settling on her hip as the other hand came to rest on her thigh, perilously close to her happy places.
“Dominance and submission are two sides of the same coin. Without one there cannot be the other or the coin is worthless. It is a fluid dynamic that can change at any time between partners and it could mean something different to each member of the partnership. The ultimate beauty of a D/s relationship is one where dominance and submission mean the same things to both people—where the goals of D/s, or what each person wants, run synonymous with each other. And I guess to fully understand what your submission means to me, you would have to understand why I am a Dominant.”
She remained silent, though a shudder rippled through her. She had traversed a hazardous path to get here, and now she was on the precipice of getting almost everything she wanted. He absorbed her shudder with his body, tucking her even closer and slowly stroking her thigh as if she were a wild thing that might bolt at any second.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I like control. Everything about controlling the power in a sexual arena turns me on. But more than that, it’s what I need. I am able to breathe freer, feel more alive, when I’m in charge sexually. Hell, probably in all ways—my brand of dominance doesn’t stop at the end of a scene, Ruthie. It’s best you know that now, but the truth is I feel alive when I’m the one managing the pleasure.”
She grabbed his hand and brought it to her racing heart. He chuckled, but there was a bitter note to it. “Continue,” she said.
“I don’t like orders, Ruthie. You ask or you’re punished.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Will you please continue? This is fascinating.”
“Sweet Jesus,” he breathed out roughly. “Only you.” Then he continued. “I like the BDSM aspect because I like toys. Anything I can use to turn a woman on, take her pleasure higher, get her lost in her mind and dealing with nothing but that pleasure, is a tool I’ll use. I like to fuck with her mind so she never knows where I’m coming from or where I’m taking her. I like to whip and flog. I love using a riding crop and I enjoy electrical play. I like sex swings because they allow me to control the action, and I like using ropes because I don’t like it when a woman moves and I’ve told her not to. But I don’t have to have toys to have control. As loud as a whip might crack, the whisper of my voice can be just as dominating.”
“Why do you need the control?” she asked, unafraid and completely open to his answer. There was no fear of giving him said control because she knew her man. He was innately a giver, so it was a safe assumption he adhered to that in all venues. The hardest thing to overcome would be her fear of him leaving her afterward.
“It could go back to how I was raised, Ruthie. You know Heyward was a first-rate bastard, and for a boy who never had any control over anything, I think it was a natural progression to crave that as I grew older. I also think it’s something that’s always been present in me. When Heyward would have one of his security men punish me, I always fought back. It’s impossible for me to accede that control to anyone.
“But I knew it was true the first time I watched a woman being flogged. There was a club your brother and I used to haunt, an old BDSM club down on National, and it catered to all types of kink. I was seventeen, full of raging hormones, and me and Jeremiah snuck in and just watched. We met Finch and Candace there.” He went quiet then.
She wanted to know what was in his head. “And?”
“I watched a man mark a woman’s bare ivory back until it was fire-engine red, and she fucking loved it. Screamed and yelled her Dom’s name until her throat went hoarse and she lost her voice. I watched her Dom’s face more than I watched her, and in it was freedom, Ruthie. He never lost control, never hurt her any more than she wanted to be hurt, but he always gave her pleasure even in the pain, and the smile on his face the entire time was one of freedom.”
She nodded, understanding the idea of it all. Tobias continued.
“I’ve always been a bossy bastard during sex. It’s what I want when I want it. But as I matured, it became about getting what I wanted after I gave the woman what she wanted. The caveat? She got it the way I wanted her to have it. When I put a flogger in my hand for the first time and began learning how to use it to inflict both pain and pleasure, that same freedom I saw on that one Dom’s face resonated through my body. It was…right somehow and I knew that no matter what happened in the future, I was a Dominant and I had to learn how to traverse that path. Do you understand?”
“I understand it’s who you are,” she said simply.
He kissed her forehead. “Yeah. It’s absolutely who I am. And you, Ruthie, are the definition of a submissive.”
“And that means?”
He laughed, low and husky. His laugh always made her wet. Now was no exception.
“It means that you are instinctively searching for someone to take control away from you. You yearn to submit everything you are into the care of a Dom strong enough to handle you. You don’t want control, but the truth is that through your submission you have all of it. Your joy comes from pleasing your Dom even as you trust him to please you. You are the most giving in this dynamic, believe that.”
“But how do you know I’m a submissive?”
“Because there’s nothing I’ve ever told you to do that you haven’t strived to do immediately. With the exception of staying away from me,” he acknowledged, and there was a rueful note to his voice. “I tell you to turn your head one way for my kiss, you do it. I tell you to go to your knees, and great God almighty, Ruthie, you do it right then. Your breathing speeds up when I’m close and your pussy goes wet when I go, as you put it, ‘a
ll caveman’ on you. You understand my needs and are willing to give me the control. That’s how I know you’re my submissive.”
He’d said my submissive. Her heart melted.
“Now we talk play,” he told her. “But I want you facing me on your knees as we discuss it.”
She sat up straight, no hesitation, and slowly got off his lap. His hand lingered on her bare ass and her breath hissed in. He tapped the bottom of one globe and then rubbed the sting. Ruthie didn’t move, not afraid he would do it again, rather fearful that he wouldn’t.
“Knees, Ruthie,” he said firmly.
She lowered, he spread his legs, and she settled on her knees between them, waiting. Tobias took her hands and placed them palm up on his thighs. Then he sat back and let the hush grow between them.
Periodically he would trace a design on her hand with his forefinger. It was soothing, as Ruthie loved to be stroked. Tobias was a stroker, so it was all good. Her breathing slowed, even coming in the same pattern as his. Her hearing dulled as he traced her palms over and over and she fell into a quiet wakefulness—a peace she had never felt before.
“My heart recognizes you’re a submissive,” he began in a deep, mellow tone. “But my body needs your sexual submission to my dominance. I need you letting me play with you in all ways, from vanilla to BDSM. I want to tie you down with my red ropes, Ruthie, and flog you. I want to lock you in my chains and whip you. I want to use my crop to make marks on your body that you will feel long after I’ve brought you to orgasm. I want to sink my dick so deep inside you that you can’t breathe without feeling me all over you. I want to take your pussy, your ass, your mouth…I want everything with you, Ruthie.”
He said the words she’d longed to hear, and the entire time his voice never changed and his finger never stopped tracing her palms. Such control. How could she not trust him?
“I will make it sting but I will never do any more than you’re comfortable with, understand?”
She nodded. He tapped her mouth then.
“Yes, Tobias, I understand,” she responded softly.
“Sir,” he demanded.
Something inside her unfurled, reaching for the light and warmth Tobias offered. It was perfect. “Yes, Sir, I understand.”
“Sometimes I’ll want to hear you scream and sometimes I’ll want silence. Knowing you’re bearing the ecstasy I’m visiting on you without making a sound will please me. I will tell you when, where, how, and how much, Ruthie. When we are involved in D/s play, you are mine to do with what I want. You will trust me to take care of you in all ways and I will trust you to submit to me, because that’s what we both need.”
He tapped her mouth again. “Yes, Sir,” she answered his unspoken question.
“I realize that trust is an issue for you because I’ve hurt you. Know this, Ruthie: I am entering into this with reservations, not about you, but about me. But one thing I will try never to do is hurt you again the way I hurt you three years ago.” He grabbed one of her hands and put it on his chest, over his heart. “The thought of dominating you excites the fuck out of me. I want to take you to the floor right now, fuck into you mercilessly, but I understand all of this is new to you and I won’t damage what could be the greatest thing to ever happen to me by rushing it. But we will play tonight, Ruthie. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He kissed her knuckles. “Good. Now tell me what you expect from me.”
“Everything.”
He laughed, and the sound sent her heart soaring. “Tall order, but I think together we can achieve it. I want you to wear a black corset, red heels, and no panties. No hose, either. I want your hair in a braid. I’m going to call Candace and have her help you get ready. We’ll play here. I’m not sure I can bear the thought of others seeing you.”
A low buzzing sounded from behind them. Tobias cursed, stroked her cheek, and stood. “Wait here, on your knees with your head bowed and your hands behind your back,” he ordered in that deliciously deep voice. “This is first position, Ruthie. When I tell you to present yourself to your Dom, this is the position you take, you understand?”
She shivered, suddenly desperate to please him, and said, “Yes, Sir.”
Tobias moved to answer his cell, but she paid no attention to what he was saying. His voice was low as he moved from the kitchen to the living room, and Ruthie was too invested in the things he’d just told her.
Submission. Dominance. Pain. Pleasure. An infinite loop of lust and love. She hoped she got to experience everything he’d promised her because it was her mission to prove herself worthy of his dominance. And prove to Tobias he was worthy of her submission.
Ruthie reflected on Tobias’s past, well aware that he’d been subjected to some brutal beatings as a child. His father was a bastard who’d scarred his two children deeply. They’d ended up amazing people in spite of Heyward Edwards, who was now sitting in jail awaiting trial for a murder he’d tried to pin on Ruthie’s brother.
He’d been a domineering man, allowing neither Tobias nor Daly an opportunity to learn what trust really was. The horrible thing was that it had taken both of them years to learn to trust themselves—a precious thing to be sure and one Tobias still struggled with.
Could Ruthie trust him with her body? The answer sang through her blood. Unequivocally yes, she could trust him with her body, both pain and pleasure. It was her heart she was worried about. He loved her; he’d said so himself. But he had a tendency to lash out, hurting others to keep his own pain at bay.
And therein lay her concern for their future. She hoped that through her inherent desire to submit to him, Tobias would see her trust and know she loved him no matter what. It was a tall order, but she was more than up for the challenge.
Tobias cursed and Ruthie’s head rose sharply. Her body instinctively responded to him, his tone suggesting danger and her body ramping up to defend him from it.
“Already you disobey me, Ruthie,” he murmured as he moved in front of her and sat back down. “I told you to remain in first position and there you are, breaking it. I wonder how this first lesson should go?”
Goose bumps danced along her skin, tightening her nipples under the soft cotton of his T-shirt as her body went boneless. His sexual threat was implied in his tone and it shook her foundations. Already she was wet in anticipation.
“Stand up, Ruthie.” He stood as well, not helping her but not moving away, either.
She’d been kneeling for a while, and as the blood rushed to her feet she swayed. He didn’t move to help her. Ruthie did not complain, somehow sensing that he was riding an edge she couldn’t fathom quite yet.
“Back up,” he demanded. Ruthie took three steps back and bumped into his large kitchen table. “Sit on the table, Ruthie.”
She cocked her head, confusion running through her. She sat, but she knew her hesitation had cost her.
Tobias’s hand skirted under the T-shirt and before she could breathe he had one of her nipples between her fingers, pinching it. She gasped at the sensation. A brief pinch of pain followed by an overwhelming heat.
Tobias chuckled. “It can’t be a punishment if it feels good, now, can it?” he asked devilishly.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she remained silent.
“That’s two infractions, Ruthie,” he said, but his tone was now blank, devoid of emotion, so she couldn’t read him.
Anger surged. He wouldn’t take away her choice in this. “Then maybe you should tell me when to speak and when to be silent. I can’t seem to be able to tell if you’re mad or enjoying this.”
He removed his hand immediately and Ruthie felt lost. His touch was warm, and without it she was left reeling. “And that’s three—you aren’t asking, you’re demanding. Let me remind you that I would normally blindfold you, Ruthie. The sense of sight can be a detriment when a Dom wants his sub focused on only pain or pleasure. The eyes lie. So while you’ve now committed three infractions, I’m absolving you of one
because I didn’t tell you whether to speak or be quiet.”
He said nothing for long moments and Ruthie was once again left floundering. Lost, she needed his voice. She knew he watched her and she raised her chin in defiance. He chuckled again, but there they remained for a long time, nothing being said, neither of them moving.
“Take off the T-shirt and move back a bit on the table.”
Ruthie removed the T-shirt and wiggled back a few inches on the damn table, the cold wood against her hot, wet flesh causing a groan.
“Lie down, bend your knees, and place your feet on the table.”
She did as he ordered.
“Let your legs fall open.”
She did, and felt more exposed than she’d ever felt in her life. She wasn’t ashamed of her body—hell, she supposed she looked fine. Tobias enjoyed her well enough. But in that moment she recognized her vulnerability. Exposed to his gaze, there was nothing between them.
She heard Tobias moving, his steps slow and measured. He was walking around the table.
“Normally,” he began almost conversationally, “your arms would be raised above your head. This is third position. Remember it, though today, I have another purpose for your hands.” She wanted to ask what second position was, but then he stopped at her head.
Her body bowed up when his nails delicately scored from her hips to her breasts, over her nipples and up her neck. It was a gentle caress, but there was no doubt it had been a warning. He went back to walking and walking and walking, and Ruthie began to feel anxious.
Her nipples beaded and inside her abdomen a heat gathered. What was he going to do? When was he going to do it?
“Have you ever brought yourself to orgasm, Ruthie? And you have permission to speak.”
She started to nod, then cut it off and said, “Of course.”
He pinched her clit and she yelped, unprepared for the touch. “Of course what?”
“Of course, Sir.” She stilled, though she desperately wanted his fingers back on her body.
“Good, then you’re familiar with masturbation. I have to shower and get back downtown to meet Jeremiah, but first you’re going to masturbate in front of me.”
