by Mina Dorian
Jon took his fingers out of her juicy passage and knelt between her legs to replace them with his rock-hard erection. He had slipped a condom on earlier, while she had been in the bathroom, and he spread her juices liberally on his rubber-clad shaft before pushing himself into her with one hard thrust. Catherine cried out and rocked her hips against him to take him even deeper.
“Keep still. You know I will have to punish you for all this wriggling later on.”
She tensed around him, her muscles clamping down on his shaft, and he sighed and closed his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his hard cock in her tight sheath.
When he opened them again, she was looking up at him curiously. He held her gaze for the briefest moment, wondering what kind of cold bastard she had been playing with if this small display of enjoyment on his part could shake her like this. She looked away, lowering her gaze demurely to his chest and he felt the sudden urge to coax her out of her shell. His orders be damned! He wanted to see her abandon herself to the pleasure he was giving her. Slowly, steadily, he rocked his hips. The bulge of the butt plug slid against the underside of his shaft as he drove himself in and out, in and out. She was a perfect fit, the walls of her pussy stimulating his cock, and he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Jon slowed his movements and saw Catherine bite her lip. He admired her discipline. If this felt only half as good to her as it did to him, she would be hard pressed not to move. He decided to push her a little further, just to test her control. He carefully pulled off the nipple clamps, which would allow the blood to rush into her nipples again and heighten the sensation. He pressed the pad of his thumb on her clitoris and drove into her as hard as he could. Catherine gasped and he could feel her control slip, her body writhing uncontrollably.
“Careful, Catherine. I told you not to come.”
She whimpered in frustration and her whole body tensed again, in a desperate effort to regain control, but she lost it. Her muscles spasmed as her orgasm shook her and she suddenly cried out in pleasure. The walls of her pussy clenched his cock and Jon’s own orgasm took him hard and fast. He wanted to withdraw, wanted to prolong this just a little longer, but it was too late. He groaned and shuddered, then spent profusely into the rubber sheath. Her cunt’s muscles milked every last drop of cum from him. God, she was good. And he wasn’t even angry with her for making him come too soon. Strangely enough, he had thoroughly enjoyed fucking her even if the whole experience had smacked of vanilla sex.
Jon shook his head, bewildered by the direction of his thoughts. Maybe he was getting old, he thought, before he collapsed on her warm, inviting body.
* * * *
Catherine woke from a relaxing post-coital nap and found herself lying on Jon’s bed, her body weighted down, her hands still tied over her head. At first she thought he must have restrained her to punish her for climaxing without his permission, but then she realised that the heavy weight on her chest was Jon himself. He lay between her spread legs, his half limp cock still between her thighs, his head resting against her shoulder. His breaths came slow and deep and he was obviously fast asleep.
Catherine pondered in amazement at what had just happened. She’d had vanilla sex with a Dom and loved every second of it and, even more astonishingly, she suspected that he had enjoyed it too. Suddenly, she felt incredibly light hearted and had to suppress a giggle. Markus had always told her that the only way for her to enjoy sex—or the only way that anyone would ever want to have sex with her—was his way, the painful path of complete submission. And she had believed him, thinking herself incapable of any other kind of relationship. She resisted the impulse to wake Jon and ask him if he would make love to her again, for that was, she suspected, what he had done, what they had done together. Instead, she turned her head to the side as far as it would go and watched him sleep.
* * * *
Jon woke slowly. He had the strange feeling that someone was breathing into his face. He wrinkled his nose and his bed shook with tiny tremors. He frowned. Had the mattress just giggled? Jon shook his head slightly and opened his eyes. He realised that he was still half lying on Catherine’s soft, warm body, and that she was staring at him with her large green eyes and smiling. She had a lovely smile, Jon thought, his head still a little fuzzy with sleep.
“You will probably want to punish me,” Catherine whispered. “I know that, but maybe we could talk first?”
Jon nodded. Talking sounded like a good idea. He still had no idea what had just happened.
Catherine smiled again, and Jon suddenly wanted to kiss that lovely mouth. He leaned a little closer, and she widened her eyes in anticipation. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, then his mouth closed over hers in a sensual kiss. Oh boy, would they have something to talk about, he thought, before his tongue invaded her warm, inviting mouth to tangle with hers, and he got very much distracted.
Catherine tasted delicious, her breath a little tangy from the hot and sour dim sum sauce she had eaten. He pushed his tongue into her mouth again and again in imitation of their earlier lovemaking. When had he last kissed a woman this passionately? He couldn’t remember.
He stroked his hands over her body, caressing her breasts, her waist, then her hips. She responded eagerly to his touch, arching her body and pressing herself against him. He realised that her hands were still tied over her head. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he reached up to free her wrists. He turned her over to explore her lovely backside with his hands. She sighed with pleasure and he urged her onto her hands and knees, spreading her arse cheeks. She was still wearing the butt plug. Jon’s cock hardened instantly at the sight. He ran his finger along the edge of the plug and she gasped and pushed her hips towards him in search of more stimulation. Jon wanted to fuck her right now. He needed to be inside that tight little arsehole. No play, no control, just a good, earnest fuck.
He rested his hands on her arse cheeks and Catherine ground her hips against him her moaning growing more frantic. He was quite sure she wouldn’t mind but felt the need to ask her all the same. As a Dom, Jon was used to giving orders, but with this woman everything was different somehow.
“You wouldn’t mind if I fucked you in the arse, would you?”
She shook her head violently.
“Is that a yes or a no, Catherine? Talk to me.”
“No! No, I wouldn’t mind,” she ground out through clenched teeth, rocking her hips frantically. “Fuck me, please! Fuck me!”
That was all the encouragement Jon needed. His cock was already hard and throbbing. He grabbed a condom from his toy box and smiled to himself as he saw the tiny studs adorning the black rubber. Those would increase stimulation on the sensitive nerve endings of her back entrance, and judging from the way she reacted to his touching the butt plug, they were both in for quite a ride.
“Hold still now, I’m going to pull out the butt plug,” he told her. Then he began to ease the silicone out of Catherine’s arsehole. The thick end caught on her sphincter muscles and he heard Catherine’s breath catch in her throat.
The butt plug had opened her up for him, and he was pretty sure he would be able to squeeze his thick erection into her narrow back passage. However, he didn’t want to hurt her. Where had he left the damn lube? Jon couldn’t remember, and he really wasn’t in the mood to get up and search for it. Instead, he ran his fingers through the folds of Catherine’s pussy. She was slick with moisture, and he rubbed her ample juices into her arsehole and onto his rubber-encased cock. Finally content, he positioned himself at her back entrance.
“Ready?” he asked her.
“Yeeeees,” she gasped when he stimulated the nerve endings around her arsehole with the tip of the studded condom.
She pressed herself back against him, and Jon slowly eased his cock past her ring of muscles, before pushing deeply into her dark passage. Catherine’s breath hitched again. He drew out of her a little then pushed himself in again. He felt the studs on the condom rub against her opening. Catherine was breathing rag
gedly now. As he surged forwards for the third time, she pushed her hips backwards and took him up to his balls. They both moaned in unison.
Damn, she felt good.
Jon put his hands on Catherine’s hips to guide her movements and fucked her in a steady rhythm. She met him thrust for thrust. Her inner muscles squeezed his erection as he drove in and out, in and out of her in a slow, erotic rhythm. The stimulation was incredible and he groaned. Frantic with need, he picked up the pace, thrusting into her faster and faster. Catherine panted and rocked against him. He reached under her body to stimulate her clitoris and she went wild. Crying out in ecstasy, she bucked and writhed, taking him as deep as she could. His orgasm was building slowly, just beyond reach. He pounded into her with the overwhelming need to climax. He felt it coming. Three hard thrusts and he gave a deep growl, his hot juices spurting into the rubber sheath as he pounded into her, completely abandoning himself to the pleasure. She was still rocking on her hands and knees, making little mewling noises, and he wrapped his arms around her body and moved with her slowly, both their bodies shuddering with wave after wave of powerful aftershocks.
* * * *
A good while later, Jon dragged his sated body from the bed and into the kitchen to make coffee. When he walked back into the bedroom, clad only in a pair of old jeans, and stood beside the bed to hand Catherine a steaming mug of latte, she sat up and gave him a brilliant smile.
“What’s that for?” he asked, in astonishment.
“For making love to me as well as making coffee,” she said, then took a sip. “And just the way I like it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Jon gave her a dirty grin.
He sat on the cushions by the bed. It seemed a good idea to put a little distance between their bodies. Somehow he had difficulty keeping his hands off her.
Some Dom you are, old man, losing control like that!
“Shall we trade questions now?” she asked.
Jon nodded. “Yes. Mind if I start?”
“No. Go ahead.”
“Tell me about your husband.”
“That’s not a question.”
“True.” He smiled. “What is he like?”
She shrugged. “Markus was a Dom,” she said, then hesitated a for a moment before adding, “he is also a bastard.”
Jon didn’t miss the curious switch in tenses in that statement. “Go on.”
She nodded. “I met him almost ten years ago at a club in Berlin where I was working at the bar. He was truly immersed in the lifestyle, twenty-four-seven. I was a student back then. BDSM was this new and fascinating thing I had just discovered and I fell for him, the great Dom. I didn’t see what he truly was. He thrives on pain and humiliation, you know.”
It was a statement, not a question, but Jon nodded. He knew Dominants like that and despised them for what he saw as a weakness. A Dom shouldn’t get off on his sub’s pain but help them find pleasure by going beyond their limits.
“He trained me,” she continued, obviously unable to stop now she had begun to talk about her past. “At first, I thought he was a God. It took me almost two years to convince him to take me on and train me as his sub. I didn’t realise he was playing with me even then. He gave me the control I needed, pushed me further and further with every scene. I loved it, adored him for the power he had over me. And I confused this adoration with love. We had an open D/s relationship, mostly playing at the club, for four years. Then something changed. I think he got bored with just playing. When he asked me to marry him, I jumped at the idea. I was young and very foolish.”
She hesitated for a moment, then went on. “He made me give up my job at the club and quit the university. I hadn’t done much studying anyway, so it was just a question of un-enrolling officially, you know? He told me that being his sub meant I had to serve him all the time. From then on, I was always on my knees, cleaning his house, getting him what he wanted, serving as his table, sucking his dick. I didn’t mind at first. All the things he made me do, even the punishments, gave me an opportunity to practice the control and the discipline I craved. For a while we lived like that, more or less happily, but then he seemed to get bored with the rules of the lifestyle as well as my submission. He said he wanted to push me further. He brought in other people. I didn’t mind playing with them for Markus’s entertainment, and serving them like the perfect little slave I was. Some of them, at least, were Dominants who knew what they were doing.”
She sighed heavily, obviously lost in her gloomy thoughts. Jon didn’t dare move a muscle. He was inwardly fuming with rage but wanted to hear the whole story.
“It all changed,” she continued, “when he was thrown out of the club. I think he had seriously injured a new member and they decided he had become too violent, too out of control for them. Of course, he took his frustration out on me. He started to beat and humiliate me, not as part of a scene or as a form of punishment, but just to see me suffer. One night, he brought home some new friends from a bar and it got out of control. I heard them come in and he shouted for me to bring them beer. When I brought the bottles, carrying them in my teeth while crawling naked on my knees, as he had taught me, he kicked me in the side and yelled at me. ‘Stupid bitch! Don’t you know how to carry a tray? Do you think we want to drink your spittle?’ He hit me with one of the bottles and kicked me again, viciously. I was bruised and bleeding when I managed to crawl out of the room, but he was right behind me.”
Again she paused. Jon clenched his teeth. It was hard to keep his anger at this bastard under control. But he needed her to tell it all.
After a moment, she added, “He locked me in the cellar that night. The next morning, he tied me up and beat me again, as punishment, he told me, but I could tell the difference. He was full of rage. Once he had left the house, I managed to free myself from his ties. He had always been sloppy when tying me up, but normally I wouldn’t have tried to escape. I got dressed, packed a few things and ran.”
She shrugged. “I’ve been on the run ever since. I got a job in Hamburg for a while—almost two years—time enough to finish my degree there. But he found me. I came home one day and heard him talking to my neighbour on the next landing. He was telling her he was there to retrieve his property. I’m pretty sure he was talking about me. I managed to slip away and asked a friend to get some of my things from my flat later. He must have been very angry. I called my landlord to let them know I was leaving, and he told me someone had set fire to my flat. I left Germany as quickly as I could, got a job in New York with the organisation I now work for, but he managed to find me there too. At least I think he did. My phone started ringing at all hours of the night, but when I answered it, there was only silence on the other end.” She gave a little shrug. “Maybe I was being paranoid, but I asked for a transfer to London. I also talked to my boss and asked her to keep my presence here a secret. I even changed from funding to research to avoid client contacts and I’m no longer listed on the website. Apart from my boss in New York, nobody knows I’m here.” She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know why I told you all this. I’m sorry.”
Jon shook his head in amazement. “Can I ask you another question?”
She smiled at him wearily. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Why did you agree to play with me? I mean, I could have been a complete psycho like your husband. Why did you come here with me?”
Now she was shaking her head vehemently. “No, you couldn’t be. When you made me look at you last night in the office I knew I could trust you. You were so very clear about the rules. That’s something Markus hardly ever bothered with, even in the beginning. Later on”—she shrugged—“let’s say he enjoyed making up new rules as he went, only to be able to punish me for disobeying them.”
Jon began to understand what the jerk had done to her. It was a miracle she had even consented to talk to him, let alone submit to him after this kind of mind-fuck. He could also imagine why she hadn’t gone to the police. Everyone in the lifestyle
knew that it was nearly impossible to explain to vanilla people where play among consenting partners ended and real bodily harm began.
“I’m glad to see that leaving him has made you stronger,” he said.
A sudden smile spread across her face. “Yes, I think it has.”
They were silent for the moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Jon said, “You have two questions now, you know?”
She smiled thoughtfully and chewed on her lower lip. She looked just so adorable. Jon’s mind drifted back to their kiss. Then she asked, “Why didn’t you punish me earlier on, when I disobeyed your order not to come?”
Now it was Jon’s turn to smile thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he had to admit. “I guess I enjoyed fucking you more than I would have enjoyed spanking you at that particular moment.” He shrugged. “That’s never happened to me before. I usually don’t lose control. I’ve also not had vanilla sex for a long time. I enjoyed it very much with you, though.”
She smiled. “Then here is my second question. Would you like to try again?”
“Try what, exactly?”
“Playing with me.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would. I think I’d also like to make love to you again, in a more traditional, vanilla way. The question is, which one first?”
She smiled shyly at his choice of words. “I could stay the night,” she offered. “That way we could play first and make love later…” Her words trailed off.
Jon got up and walked over to the bed. “Yes,” he said simply and held out his hand to her. Hell yes.
* * * *
This time, Jon had decided to tie her up in a standing position, and Catherine was glad to have the leather straps around her wrists to hold on to as she hung suspended from the ceiling. Her legs were spread wide, her upper body bent forward, her arse pushed out the way he had ordered her to. The nipple clamps were back in place, and she enjoyed the light pressure on her swollen buds.
