by Brenna Zinn
Rise of the Dom
Brenna Zinn
Although this book can be read on its own, we recommend first reading Fatal Submission, by Nicole Austin.
It’s 1998, and what a great year it’s been for independent yet sexually submissive Emma Sutherland. She’s secured a great job teaching at the local university, bought a dream house in the country with its very own dungeon in the basement and found a masterful Dom who fulfills her every desire. Who could ask for more?
Chet Crosby can. Having hot, kinky sex with Emma is no longer enough. He wants to take care of her outside the dungeon and have a real relationship, which she’s not ready for. But ready or not, the horrifying and unexplainable occurrences in Emma’s home have her scared, and Chet’s more determined than ever to protect the woman he loves—even if it means facing unimaginable terror.
Reader Advisory: This story contains graphic scenes of bondage and horror that may haunt the reader for days.
Rise of the Dom
Brenna Zinn
Chapter One
July 1998
Bent over the torture table and clutching the edge of the armrest, Emma Sutherland dug her fingers into the underside padding. She absorbed the delicious sting from the lashes delivered to her back and ass from Chet Crosby’s buckskin flogger, willing herself to remain calm. Spasms caused her muscles to involuntarily jerk and quiver as she resisted her cunt’s clawing ache.
“That’s good, Emma. Very good.”
Although blindfolded, she could hear the solid thud of boot heels on the concrete floor. Chet was circling her, taking his time. Forcing her to wait even though her body screamed for release.
When his light touch traced the curve of her cheek and chin, she lifted her head from the table. A moment later the tails of the flogger cracked through the air like thunder. Pain followed. The flesh below her shoulder blades burned. Before she could stop herself, a rough cry tore from her lips.
“Yes. Oh yes, Emma. You do please me this evening.”
Chet’s tone took on a dreamlike quality, leaving little doubt of his sincerity. In her mind’s eye, Emma envisioned a slight smile pulling at the corners of her Master’s lips, highlighting the dimples on his handsome face. By now his shoulder-length brown hair would be disheveled and his blue eyes would be bright from excitement. Farther down his lean muscular body, his cock would likely be swollen beneath the confines of his tight jeans.
A thrill rippled across Emma’s stomach. The gratification of providing Chet pleasure far exceeded the sensual stimulation of their play. Always had.
“I don’t know if it’s because of this dungeon,” Chet said, his voice indicating he was heading toward the far side of the room, “or if it’s the way you look bent over and tied to the new Y-table, so delicate and willing—”
A long zipper being scraped open sounded, then the quiet rustlings of something being pulled from a bag.
“But I think you’ve earned a reward for your efforts.”
He had brought a backpack with him this evening, though what he planned to do with the bag or what it contained hadn’t been discussed.
Generally preferring the safety and comfort of routine, she tamped down a quiver of unease. Chet’s unexpected surprises continually tested her comfort zone. She sucked in air through her nose and forced herself to relax, preparing for whatever he had in store.
He had earned her trust, hadn’t he? For the last eight months, he had taken her to her limits and stretched them, broadening her desires and coaxing more pleasure from her than she knew she was capable of.
She had never used their safe word, she reminded herself. As long as he fulfilled her desires for rough sex and provided the control she craved without crossing the line, she would continue to submit without reservation. He was her Master. She was his willing slave.
Another crack of the flogger rang out. Two dozen tipped ends struck against her bottom, acutely biting the already tender flesh. When she uttered a low moan, Chet responded by soothing the ravaged skin with something soft and cool. Emma needed only a second to recognize the new tool he wielded.
Fur.
Emma pulled against the restraints around her wrists and ankles as Chet stroked the velvety pelt over the heated skin of her ass. The near overpowering mixture of scorching pain and velvety softness sent charges of electricity straight to Emma’s drenched cunt. She clenched the muscles of her pussy and tightened her grip on the table. She could not come. Not yet. Permission had yet to be granted.
“I had a feeling you would like that. You respond so beautifully to new sensations.” Chet moved behind the table while continuing to torment her with the fur. “But it’s time to end our session for tonight.”
His satisfaction in her performance and the expectation of his thick cock drilling into her throbbing cunt induced another groan from her lips. At the sound of his jeans unzipping and then being pushed down his legs, warm cream flooded her already wet folds. He would take her now. Soon she would find sweet release.
Instinctively, she bowed her back from the table and raised herself to the balls of her feet, pushing out her ass to provide him better access. Chet repaid her efforts by flogging her upper back, then sweeping the fur over the inflicted area, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.
After positioning himself between her spread legs, he allowed the fur and flogger to fall on the floor. With rough hands, he gripped her hips, then shoved his cock inside her cunt in one breathtaking push. The exquisite sensation tore at her soul. Emma buried her face in the table padding, muffling a moan.
As Chet plunged deeper, driving his thick penis into her tender chasm, pain and pleasure blurred. Emma locked her knees and stiffened her legs to better feel the force of his thrusts. Behind the blindfold, she squeezed her closed eyes tight, concentrating on disciplining her primal urge to come.
Over and over he rammed his dick farther, filling her with unyielding strength. Loud slapping sounds from the friction and wetness of their joining pierced the quiet of the room. Emma’s legs trembled from the extreme exertion. Just as she thought she could last no longer, Chet grabbed her ponytail and pulled.
“Emma, come now.”
Heeding his command, Emma relinquished control over her body. Her breath came out as a jagged hiss. She strained against the constraints of the table as a powerful orgasm blazed through her. Bright spots danced behind the darkness of her blindfold. Dizziness threatened to overtake her. At the same time, Chet slammed his rock-hard cock to impossible depths and then let out a guttural roar.
Once again Chet had taken her to the precipice of pleasure and deftly held her there, a fine line separating hurt from lovely sensation. At the right instant, he’d released her, allowing her to fall safely into sensual oblivion.
And how she needed an escape into that void. Especially now with so much going on in her life. Breaking free from the stampede of reality and temporarily placing the reins in someone’s hands was the reason she’d ventured to the BDSM lifestyle in the first place. Luckily she’d found a capable Master in Chet. He excelled in satisfying her need to be controlled while being fucked—the only time she would allow any man to dominate her. Playing with the sexy Dom was physical and mental bliss.
Chet nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck, heat radiating from his cheeks. “You are an amazing woman, Emma. I don’t know what I did to ever deserve you.”
“Let’s chalk it up to your good looks, smarts and clean living.” Having been silent so long for their session, Emma’s glib remark sounded little more than a squeak.
“Humph.” Chet chuckled in her ear. “If you think I’ve been living clean, I can only imagine what you think living dirty must be like.” He raised himself and carefully withdrew his cock. After pu
lling up his pants, he walked to the side of the table. “I’m going to remove your blindfold now. Open your eyes slowly. Give yourself a chance to adjust to the light.”
Emma nodded, then prepared to be temporarily blinded as Chet slid the mask over her forehead. Instantly light attempted to penetrate her eyelids, morphing blackness into a bright orange-red.
“I’ll install a dimmer switch down here tomorrow.” He gently tugged at the ropes around her wrists. With careful strokes, he rubbed the red marks left by the restraints and massaged her arms. “When I finish, I’ll help you get better settled. Haul off those empty boxes. Maybe hang some pictures up for you.”
Fumbling for the right words, Emma hesitated. Her chest tightened. How to navigate through this awkward situation? His offer—simple and thoughtful as it was—only muddied the already murky waters of their relationship.
If she agreed and permitted him to visit her in the living quarters of her new home, he would be spending time with her outside the dungeon. Trespassing in her personal space, a place for which she had set up clear boundaries before becoming sexually involved with Chet. He was invited to spend time with her only during their play together. Any time beyond that was off-limits. That was the bargain they had agreed to not long after Chet became her Dom.
While she continued to piece her fractured life together, keeping him separated and distant from her personal mayhem was best. At least for her. She wanted a Dom only for rough, sweaty sex and short stretches of time when she didn’t need to be in charge of her hectic life.
But if she didn’t agree, she’d be pushing him away once again. Each time she had, he’d appeared genuinely disappointed, leaving her conflicted and guilt-stricken. She adored Chet, more than she cared to admit, but he wanted more from her than she was ready to give. At some point all the resistance to his advances might keep him away for good. Goodness knew there were more than enough women interested in making him their Dom. Emma’s girlfriend Cleo had made that clear when she introduced him as a potential Dom. Since then Emma had discovered the truth for herself. If he did leave, he wouldn’t have to look far for her replacement.
“I don’t know that I’ll be ready to hang pictures just yet,” Emma stalled, looking for some way to let him down gently. “I’ve been moving in slowly and I haven’t unpacked everything. I still have a few things I need to move from my apartment. As a matter of fact, tonight’s my first night to sleep here.”
She pulled herself up on her elbows while Chet removed the silken ropes at her ankles and caressed her feet. A sigh slipped through her mouth. He took such good care of her. How could she continue to deny him? Would spending a few minutes together improving their play space really kill her?
“I do like the idea of a dimmer though.” The acquiescence flowed easily from her lips but induced more pain than the flogging he’d inflicted upon her this evening. “Maybe we can get to that this weekend.”
Chet stood. The sculpted, lean muscles of his arms and broad chest glistened in the harsh light of the dungeon. His handsome sun-kissed face was further illuminated by his broad smile. “I’d like that. Between the updated lighting and the new Y-table I bought, we’ll soon get this dungeon whipped into shape.” He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. “I hate to say it, but as nice as having a private dungeon is, this place is more than a little creepy. We can fix that though. Make it a place we’re both comfortable being in.”
Emma glanced around her new cinder block basement. Aside from the table, a metal O-ring drilled into a wall and the wood coat rack to hang their various floggers, handcuffs and other tools, there wasn’t much in the large room. Chet was right though. Something about the place had unsettled her since the first time she’d walked down the creaky wooden stairs when the realtor showed her the house. Regardless of how beautiful and well-maintained the home was, her Spidey senses prickled whenever she stepped through the front door. Of course, that the house had a secret passageway to the basement through the pantry certainly didn’t help.
“I know what you mean, but I got too good of a deal on this place to pass it up. As soon as I’ve added my touches to it, I’m sure the entire house will start to feel better.”
At least I hope it will.
“After you add your touches, I’m sure it will be fine.” Chet turned her over and allowed his gaze to sweep her naked body before leaning across her. He smoothed back the loose hairs that had escaped her ponytail. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. I loved every minute of it.” She smiled, relishing the tingles still vibrating under her skin.
“Good. For a second I had the strangest feeling come over me when I was flogging you. I—” Chet stopped midsentence, a shadow of concern crossing his jewel-toned eyes. He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just tired. I stayed up too late last night.” He tweaked the end of her nose in a playful gesture. “Instead of partying it up with my buddies like a normal twenty-six-year-old male, I sat at home and studied for a test. I swear you’re ruining me,” he teased. “Charlie and Scott will be asking me to return my man card if I’m not careful.”
“Your roommates don’t know the first thing about being a man, trust me. I’ve never met more overgrown boys in my life. And if your idea of being ruined is actually graduating next year with a master’s degree, then blame me all you like.”
She snuggled in closer to his bare chest, taking in the clean, fresh scent of his cologne. Eternity. The name said it all. For the rest of her life she would associate the recognizable fragrance with the younger man who had persuaded her to hand over the control she coveted and simply relax. No complex mathematical formulas, no differential equations, no thinking at all. Not with Chet. In his experienced, competent hands, she could distance herself from the rigid world of academia and her fucked-up life to just let go.
Chet held her closer and made lazy eights on her back with his fingertips. “You know, I don’t mind staying the night. This is your first night in this big house. You might sleep better if you have someone in bed with you.”
Discomfort coiled in the pit of Emma’s stomach as though it were a dangerous snake preparing to strike. He was still at it. Trying to wedge his way in. As nice as having a deeper relationship with Chet might be, she wasn’t ready. Too much water had passed under the bridge with her ex-husband for her to move forward with anyone, including Chet. Not until her world settled down and she was ready to trust in someone with her heart, soul and bankbook would she allow herself to get that involved again.
Emma turned to look him in the eye. He simply had to understand she wouldn’t be budged. “Don’t do this to me, Chet. You know the rules. No spending the night. No interaction outside of the dungeon. Not now. Not until I’m ready for more.”
“I’m sorry.” Chet hugged her tightly before releasing his hold and stepping back from the table. The once serene look on his face was now replaced with distress. “Emma, I know your ex-husband ran you through the wringer when he cheated on you and gambled away your savings, but I’m not him. Rick, asshole.” He tapped his broad chest. “Chet, not asshole.”
“I—”
“No wait,” he interrupted. “Let me say this. I also know what I agreed to when we decided to start whatever the hell we’re doing. And for the record, I’m completely happy with whatever the hell we’re doing. But I find myself thinking about you all the time. Wondering what life would be like if I could make love to you. Wake up with you in my arms. Quite frankly, I’d settle for dinner and a movie. I’d even suffer through a day of shopping for antiques as long as I spent time with you.”
The squeezing pressure of her lungs, as if she were being crushed between a Mack truck and a brick wall, made breathing difficult. He’d called out the enormous elephant in the room, and it happened to be her.
“Listen,” Chet continued as he stepped to the stairs and picked her draped robe from the handrail, “I’m not trying to rush you. Really, I’m not. You’re going to be busy for the next few
weeks starting your new position at the college and getting things squared away here. The transition from working on your master’s degree and being a teaching assistant to being a college professor can’t be easy. I get that.” Returning to the table, he held out his hand. “Just consider giving me a little more of you. I don’t need much.”
Emma placed her hand in his and pulled herself up. Being the gentleman that he was, Chet helped her into the kimono-style wrap, tied the fabric belt around her waist, then held her shoulders.
“What do you say?” he pressed.
His determination, too earnest to be ignored, seeped all the way to her heart. What would he have to do to prove himself to her above and beyond what he’d done in the time they’d known each other? He made himself exclusively her Dom, withdrawing from the other subs he’d worked with. To stay with her, he’d put off working in his family’s engineering firm in Kentucky to get his master’s degree. He was stable and honest. And he’d been nothing but careful with her, even in the heat of working out a scene.
Unless she planned to spend her life alone, she’d have to let the past go and put her faith in someone sometime. Now that she had a good job and a house, her life wasn’t as crazy as it used to be.
Why not Chet? Why not now?
“Okay. You win.” She nodded, allowing a lopsided smile to form on her lips. “But let’s take baby steps. Start with something simple, like lunch.”
“Not spending the night together?”
The innocent, Scooby-Doo expression softened his squared jaw and made the offer incredibly tempting. Even so, Emma balled her fingers into her palm until her nails bit flesh, fighting the urge to give in to him. To counter his look, she narrowed her eyes and puffed out a gust of air.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said, drawing her into his embrace. “Lunch sounds perfect. You’re going to be in your office tomorrow, right?”
