E is for… (BDSM Checklist Book 5)

by L. DuBois

  “Holy God,” she breathed. “Master…”

  Aram grinned. It was always nice when his cock could drive subs to seek divine assistance.

  “Imagine what I’ll feel like in your ass.”

  She made a noise that wasn’t sexy, but it was raw and real.

  He bent over her back, grabbing her hair and pulling it, forcing her head up. This way he could hear her labored breathing and moans.

  He found his rhythm, slow and deep. “You’re free to come,” he panted.

  Slow and deep wasn’t enough. He needed her hard and fast.

  He pumped into her, his arousal notching up when he looked down to see his cock disappearing into her. When was the last time he’d been this lost in the moment? This was about fucking—a primal act. He dominated her not by design or by rules, but because she was meant to be dominated. Her body was designed to be taken, her softness a match for his hardness.

  With the hand not holding her hair, he reached under her, gathering a handful of her soft breast and squeezing. He trapped her nipple between two fingers and pinched it.

  Charlie screamed as she came. Her nails dragged across the bedcovers, and then she reached back with one hand, grabbing at his hip, her nails scoring his skin as she clutched at him.

  Aram released her hair and slid his hand around her neck and chin, pushing one finger into her mouth. She sucked desperately at his finger as her pussy clenched his cock.

  Aram’s balls tightened and he started to come. He jackhammered into her for what felt like ten minutes but was no more than ten seconds as his cock twitched and pumped inside her. With a groan he came, falling onto her back, pressing both of them down onto the bed.

  Aram indulged himself for a moment, lying atop her, before rolling off to the side.

  Charlie’s breathing was labored. As it evened out, those breaths morphed into sobs.

  Aram slid off the bed. She needed aftercare. He felt like he needed aftercare. A scene of that intensity was usually something that occurred between experienced partners who knew how to drive each other wild.

  He slipped into the bathroom. He hadn’t even taken off his clothes. His dress shirt was glued to his skin with sweat. With a grimace he pulled everything off, including the condom. He quickly washed his cock and armpits, then toweled off the sweat. He wet a clean cloth with warm water.

  Charlie was curled into a ball on the center of the bed. Her blonde hair lay over her face. She was shivering. Like him she was covered in sweat, and the cool air of the room washed over her, making her break out in gooseflesh.

  He grabbed one knee and opened her legs. She resisted.

  “Charlie.” He made his voice deep with command.

  She made a little noise and gave in. He pressed the warm towel against her pussy, which would be aching.

  She sighed. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He was back to Sir. Good. “Master” was too intimate, and conferred responsibilities and permanence.

  He headed back to the wardrobe, gathering a pair of navy pajama pants for himself on the way. He came back with two more towels, one wet, one dry.

  He gave her a quick sponge bath, wiping the worst of the sweat off her skin, then drying her with the other cloth.

  Charlie didn’t protest, but she was clearly uncomfortable. When she tried to stop him from washing under her arms he raised a hand near her ass in threat.

  “Charlie.”

  “Please, I just need…I need a minute.”

  “While I sympathize, you may not close yourself to me.”

  “That was…it was too intense.”

  He agreed, but leaving a sub inside her own head after an intense scene was cruel and irresponsible, especially a young sub like her.

  “It was, but it is both my right and my privilege to care for you now.”

  She looked up at him, those blue, blue eyes soft and vulnerable. The way she looked at him, as if he was her knight in shining armor, made him deeply uncomfortable. She was an experienced player—surely she wouldn’t get overly emotional.

  “On your hands and knees,” he commanded.

  She pulled back a bit, then obeyed. He needed to remind her of the nature of their association, for her own emotional wellbeing. He grabbed the cloth that had been on her pussy, refolded it, then spread her ass cheeks and scrubbed her anus. It was intimate and embarrassing, something only a Dom would do.

  “Sir,” she pleaded.

  “Yes, Charlie?”

  “I…”

  She didn’t say anything else. When he stopped and carefully dried her pussy and ass, she stayed in position on the bed. He applied ointment to the pink line the bamboo had left on her ass. There was no welt, only pink skin.

  Once he was done, he took everything to the bathroom and washed his hands. When he opened the door, she was still in position, her head turned to look at him.

  “My nightgown is in my bag, Sir,” she said.

  He considered forcing her to sleep naked, but then thought better of it.

  He checked the wardrobe, and found a silky night garment. It had flowing sleeves that would reach her elbows—which made sense considering her confession about her pink upper arms. It was cut in a deep “V” that would expose the inner curves of her breasts.

  He laid it on the bed beside her. She rose and pulled it over her head. He heard her sigh of relief.

  While a bit of distance was good, he wouldn’t allow her to forget herself.

  He reached out and tugged at the neckline until both breasts were exposed. She blushed, turning pink from her chest up to her cheeks. It was an almost absurd reaction, considering what he’d done to her this evening.

  He grabbed the hem in the front and lifted that, tucking it into the “V” of the neckline. Now both breasts and pussy were exposed.

  “If you wake in the night and find that the fabric is covering either your breasts or your pussy, I expect you to fix it.”

  Her eyes flared and she let out a shuddered breath. “Holy shit.” Her voice was back to the way it had been when they first met. The dreamy subspace tone was gone. That was both a pity and a positive development.

  He raised a brow.

  “I’m getting turned on again.”

  Aram grinned, much more comfortable with this version of Charlie than the doe-eyed girl who been lying on the bed not long ago. “And why is that a problem?”

  “I should be satisfied for, like…a week.”

  “A week? I think not. We haven’t even begun to work on our list.”

  A happy shiver shook her. Aram motioned to the bed. Charlie tossed back the covers and snuggled in. Sleeping together was an intimacy not always engaged in. There was a trundle mattress under this bed. He could have had Charlie sleep there—comfortable but submissive.

  Given the intensity of their scene, Aram felt more at ease with her next to him. If she started to cry in the night or didn’t fall asleep, he would be aware of it and able to address the issue.

  He turned off the lights, then climbed under the covers in a more controlled manner than she had. He slid his hand across the bed, finding her hip. He dragged his fingers across her body, tapping her pussy, then tweaking each nipple.

  “Just checking?” she said. She probably meant it to be teasing, but there was breathy arousal in her voice.

  “Yes.” He lay on his back and dropped one hand across her body, settling his fingers on her pussy, casually cupping her sex.

  “You’re…you’re not going to sleep like that?”

  “Was that a command, sub?”

  “No,” she squeaked. “No, Sir. I was just asking a question.”

  “I enjoy soft things. The skin of your pussy is lovely and soft. So yes, I will sleep with my hand on your pussy.”

  She moaned.

  “And Charlie?”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “If you fuck yourself on my fingers, or come, I will punish you severely.” He put steel in his words. “Is that clear?”

  “Yes
, Sir.” She was breathing low and deep. “If I… If I want to sleep in a different position, may I? I don’t normally sleep on my back.”

  He considered it, then smiled in the darkness. “Yes, you may. However, I expect you to make sure that my hand is touching soft skin. Your breast, ass, and pussy are all acceptable.”

  “So no matter what, you’ll be touching me and keeping me mercilessly turned on?” she asked dryly.

  He laughed, the bed shaking. When he calmed he turned on his side to face her. He cupped her breast, making sure her nipple was scissored between two of his fingers.

  “Exactly.”

  She groaned, her nipple hardening. Aram smiled and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie nuzzled her pillow and stretched one arm. She was ridiculously comfortable. She was never getting out of this bed. It was too nice. The covers were keeping her warm but not sweaty, her pillow was still soft and fluffy, and filtered sunlight spilled across them, creeping through the curtains.

  And then there was Master Green.

  He was still asleep, his hair a bit mussed, his eyelashes dark and thick against his cheeks. He wasn’t soft in his sleep—he still looked hard and strict, his features sharp. Only those eyelashes hinted at any softness.

  Last night he hadn’t been soft, but he hadn’t been cold either. When she first caught sight of him, that’s what she’d assumed—he’d be all about the rules and only the rules. Some people thought passion had no place in BDSM. Passion, real passion, was a force that bucked control.

  But last night he’d given in to passion. He’d been raw and wild, fucking her hard and rough. He’d made her beg, he’d talked dirty, and it had been some of the best sex of her life.

  And even now, her body was slightly turned on, aware of him. She lay on her front, naked beneath the covers, his hand on her ass.

  Around dawn, when gray light had slipped between the curtains, Charlie had rolled from one side to the other and snuggled down. Aram’s hand had drifted over her, and she’d stretched like a cat looking for some petting. Instead he’d pinched her ass, hard.

  “Your pussy is covered,” he’d growled in a sleepy voice.

  Rather than try retucking the fabric, she’d wiggled out of the nightgown. He’d rewarded her for that, stroking her from hip to shoulder, his fingers playing gently with her breasts and even parting the lips of her sex to gently tap her clit. Then he’d tucked his hand around one breast and settled down to sleep.

  Between the pinch to her ass and the fondling, she’d been sure she’d be awake for hours, but despite the throb of arousal that hummed through her, she’d fallen back to sleep quickly. She’d felt sexy and safe—a new combination for her.

  Charlie smiled at the memory of their brief interaction in the middle of the night. She stretched again, this time lifting her ass as she stretched her back. His hand moved slightly, and she looked over eagerly, expecting to see those sexy eyes open and looking at her.

  But Master Green was still asleep. She tried wiggling her ass again, but there was no response from him. However, the motion did make her aware of her full bladder. With a sigh of regret, she slid out from under the warm covers and made a beeline for the bathroom.

  Once she’d relieved herself she brushed her teeth and hair, washed off last night’s makeup and reapplied. Finally, she did a quick inspection in the mirror. Her skin showed no marks except a pale pink line from the cane. It disappointed her. She wanted to see circles of pink on her ass from the spanking, or maybe the impression of the rope on her legs. But she was practically unmarked.

  Her nipples were erect, and her pussy was wet. Perhaps those were the marks he’d left.

  She stretched, looking at herself in the full-length mirror. She didn’t have a thigh gap, her upper arms were pudgy and red, her stomach was far from flat, but she was beautiful. She loved her body—she truly did. The curve at her waist was sexy, her calves were elegant, her breasts were porn-star worthy. Contradictions shaped her life, and this was the greatest contradiction. She loved this body when she was alone. When there were no ads to compare herself too, or judgmental looks. She hated this body in public, where the stares of others made her turn in. It was a battle she’d been fighting for a long time, and one she wasn’t yet done with.

  “Knock knock, Charlie.”

  She swiveled to the door, her heart leaping, her pussy pulsing. The door swung open. Master Green leaned on the frame in that sexy, casual way men could.

  “Good morning, Sir.”

  “Good morning. Are you ready to start the day?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, as we have limited time.”

  She frowned. “Why, Sir?”

  “It’s nearly three o’clock.”

  “Holy crap, really?”

  He smiled—just a brief quirking of lips. “Yes. We didn’t get into bed until close to five a.m.”

  “And then we slept for ten hours?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that long.

  “It appears we needed our sleep.”

  “Last night was…” Charlie didn’t finish the sentence as a little shiver of remembered pleasure danced down her skin.

  Master Green’s eyes darkened. “I need to use the restroom, then we’re leaving the room. I’m determined to complete at least one of our letter items.”

  “But last night we did edging and examinations.”

  He raised his brow. “Hardly.”

  “Oh.” That was both so fucking sexy she was having trouble standing up, and a bit terrifying.

  He pushed off of the doorframe, then motioned with an arrogant wave of his hand for her to exit the bathroom. The closer she got to him the faster she breathed. She slowed when she was right next to him. When Master Green reached out and grabbed her arm, she sighed in happy anticipation.

  “Were you waiting for something, sub?”

  “Um, no, Sir.”

  “Are you trying to tempt me into touching you?”

  “Uh…”

  “Get dressed, then wait for me on your knees. You’ve earned a punishment. And not the kind you’ll enjoy.”

  The hint of anger in his voice and that cold promise had Charlie scrambling out of the bathroom.

  Crap, crap, crap.

  She darted for the wardrobe. She’d brought a small overnight bag with her, which the staff had unpacked, hanging up her second nightgown and placing her toiletries bag in the bathroom. The bag itself wasn’t here—they must have put it in her locker in the Subs’ Garden. The Subs’ Garden was the only area of the club where Doms, Masters, and Owners weren’t allowed. It was part lounge, part locker room. When she’d arrived, she’d grabbed a few sexy outfits out of the stash she kept in the locker before putting on the blue panties outfit.

  Now she looked at her options and wondered what to wear. There was a steampunk-style corset made of warm brown leather, with elaborate brass closures down the front and heavy brocade lacings. It was by MissyMaven, Charlie’s favorite lingerie company. She had a matching pair of high-waisted panties to go with it. The outfit was cool and sexy—when paired with a high ponytail she always felt put together and able to take on anything.

  Or there was an ice-blue teddy. Two pearl buttons between the cups of the bodice held it closed. She had her choice of white satin or blue lace panties, both of which would work.

  Then there was an item she’d had custom-made to her measurements by MissyMaven, but never worn. She left it in her locker here and always swore she’d wear it, but never had.

  It looked like a cocktail dress made of a shimmery black fabric that was surprisingly see-through, with horizontal bands of matte black fabric interspersed down the length. It was strapless, the dress held up by the uppermost band of matte black ribbon. The stiff ribbon fastened with a small butterfly closure under her left arm. There was another ribbon band just under the breasts, with another closure. The bands continued down her body—one at her waist, another at her
hips, her upper thighs, knees.

  When all the closures were done it was a form-fitting black dress, sexy because of its semi-translucent fabric. But the debauchery of the dress was that the closures could be undone one by one. If the top band was released, the dress would part and fall down, exposing her breasts. If the clasps at the knee, hip, and waist were undone the dress would then have a scandalously high slit. And if all of them were undone, the dress would simply fall off.

  Scary. Sexy.

  The shower shut off, meaning she was out of time.

  Charlie grabbed the black dress. She undid all the clasps and wrapped the fabric around herself. It was a bit awkward to get that top clasp done, but once that one was in place, the others were relatively simple. She put on a pair of black ballet flats that were easy to slip off, completing the look. If he wasn’t in the bathroom she would have dashed in and darkened her eyeliner, maybe added some smoky shadow to complete the look.

  She brushed at the fabric, making sure everything was in place. The fabric was thinner than she’d expected, and her nipples were hard and clearly visible. The band at her waist gave her a nice hourglass figure, but the placement of the bands at her hips and upper thighs meant that the shadowy cleft of her pussy was also visible. She took a step, and nearly fell over. The bands at her thighs and knees were tight, meaning she had to either undo those or take tiny, mincing steps.

  She hadn’t decided what to do when the door opened. Only when Aram emerged, towel around his waist, his chest gloriously naked, did she remember he’d ordered her to get on her knees.

  Her eyes widened and she tried to drop to her knees, but the lowest band of the dress caught her knees, and she had to stop in a squat position.

  Master Green raised one brow.

  “Wardrobe malfunction.” Charlie straightened, then undid the lowest band, and finally dropped to her knees. She tried to spread them, but the thigh band kept them closed.

  She looked up at Master Green sheepishly.

  He chuckled and headed for the wardrobe. “You’re quite adorable, but that won’t stop your punishment.”