The Submissive's Secret (What's Her Secret?)

by Dae, Natalie

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  The Submissive’s Secret

  ISBN # 9781781848616

  ©Copyright Natalie Dae 2013

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2013

  Edited by Eleanor Boyall

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Melting and a Sexometer of 3.

  What’s Her Secret?

  THE SUBMISSIVE’S SECRET

  Natalie Dae

  Lori must prepare herself for the flogging of her life.

  Lori has been keeping a secret from her friends. She’s being taught the lifestyle by a Swedish Dom, Jaska. Soon it’ll be time for him to let her go, but there’s one issue. She’s fallen in love with him and he doesn’t know it. With two secrets on her mind, plus knowing her relationship with Jaska will soon end, Lori isn’t sure what to do. Their play enthralls her, and she’s found it’s the only thing that makes her feel alive. She has one last scene she’d like to act out with him—and that’s a good and painful thrashing with a tawse.

  Jaska collects her and whisks her away to his home. His dungeon is a place Lori feels immediately at ease in, and when she spies the flogging horse, she knows she has to climb aboard. And when she does, she discovers that what she’s experienced with him up until that point is eclipsed by pleasure and pain so great she doesn’t even know her own name…

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Diesel: Diesel S.p.A.

  Mercedes: Daimler AG

  Chapter One

  Diary, October 7th

  “Will you come clubbing with us tonight, Lori?” Fiona had asked.

  I’d shaken my head, as usual.

  Friday nights were reserved for something else entirely.

  “Why not?” she’d asked. “You never come out with us now. Got yourself a secret man, have you?”

  How did I answer something I didn’t want to answer? How did I tell her that on Friday nights I did something they just wouldn’t understand? How the hell did I remain polite when, because I was being pushed on a regular basis by my work colleagues, I wanted to tell her to leave it, please, just leave it?

  I’d shrugged. “Just a bit busy, that’s all.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Things.”

  “What things?”

  I’d smiled, thinking of what I’d be doing. “Just things.”

  I’d gotten up, walked away from the packed table, and Fiona had said to the others, “What’s she hiding? What’s her secret?”

  I’d left the pub. My ‘secret’ was a secret for a reason. I hid what I hid for a reason. What I did on Friday nights was something just for me. My thing.

  And I wasn’t going to share it with anyone except my Swedish Dom.

  * * * *

  I sensed him behind me, my Dom, and resisted turning around to look at him. This week had dragged, my need to be with him seeming to make the days crawl by slower. I remained staring at the optics behind the bar, paying the label on a bottle of vodka particular attention, my senses buzzing.

  Orchestral music filtered through speakers set high in every corner, a soft, haunting melody I’d always associate with him. Jaska, the man who had so far met my every need, whom I’d learnt to trust like no other.

  “What are you doing in a place like this, pet?”

  His voice had flowed effortlessly with the music, as though he’d sung the words. My stomach muscles tightened—excitement, so much excitement inside me—and I swallowed in an attempt to calm the rapid-fire flash of butterflies’ wings in my windpipe.

  They fluttered on. They always did.

  “I’m here to meet my Master,” I said.

  I sat rigid, dying to swivel on the barstool and face him. To take in his beautiful face, the way his cheekbones tapered toward his jaw—a jaw that some people would say was glass, so finely sculpted that it appeared fragile. It was always coated with stubble—God, I loved that—the darkness of it a shade blacker than his short hair.

  “I see.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.

  I shivered with delight, unable to hide it, and imagined him smiling.

  “And your Master,” he said, “has been waiting for you. Over there, in the corner. He saw you come in, had the urge to get up and meet you straight away, to greet you like a lover, but that wouldn’t do, would it? We’ve never worked like that.”

  “No,” I said.

  “But at some point…” He squeezed my shoulder, as though reassuring himself I was still there. “At some point things will have to change, you know that. It’s always been there between us, that knowledge. Sometimes I think I’ll go mad thinking about it.”

  I’d been dreading this moment ever since I’d met him eight months ago. That he’d have to set me free, let me experience the BDSM world with others, express myself. He’d said once—about five months ago if I remember correctly—that he was enjoying showing me the ropes more than any other sub he’d trained. I’d laughed at that—he’d shown me more than just ropes—and thought to myself that it would be ages before I’d have to face what was ahead. Time, though, was a cruel bitch, and she’d swept by too fast, turning weeks into months, drawing the inevitable closer. I’d told myself to be strong, that I could handle whatever came my way since Jaska had come into in my life. But I’d been fooling myself.

  Not having him in my life? No, I didn’t want to contemplate that.

  I held my breath then let it out slowly. “Which way will they change?” I hadn’t even needed to ask that question. I knew the answer, but a part of me wanted to see if anything was different now that we’d spent so many Friday nights together.

  “That’s entirely up to you, pet. What do you see as your options?”

  Entirely up to me? Well, that was different. I hadn’t been aware of any options other than the one he’d stated from the start. “I only have one, as far as I’m concerned, but it might not be what you want to hear. It isn’t the one you gave me.”

  “I asked you a question and you didn’t answer it. If I didn’t want to hear, I wouldn’t have asked.
Games, you know I dislike them, Lori. We made promises. Say what we have to say, no playing about. It works better for both of us that way. We know where we stand. I’m a little saddened you’ve forgotten that rule.”

  I stiffened. His disappointment in me, albeit very mild, had been evident.

  “I hadn’t forgotten,” I said. “But it isn’t as cut and dried as it was. When emotions get involved, they’re not so easily switched off, are they?”

  “They could be, if you’re a particularly strong person.”

  “And you are, Sir?”

  “I thought I was, yes.”

  I frowned. Was he trying to tell me something? Was he breaking his own rule and ‘playing about’?

  “Now who isn’t saying what he has to say?” I said boldly.

  “We need to talk, I see. So, let’s talk. Here. Now. Answer my first question.”

  I sighed, let my shoulders slump. This wasn’t going to be easy to confess. The outcome wouldn’t be what I wanted. I’d be sent out into the lifestyle, feeling as though I’d been scattered to the four winds. Lost. Adrift. And so alone. The lifestyle for me, without him in it, wouldn’t be the same.

  “My only option has always been that you would teach me, help me to understand how a Dom works, how I work as a sub, and then you’d let me go. I wasn’t aware there were any other options. But I do have another, and it’s the only one I can imagine. To have only you as my Master. I don’t want anyone else.”

  There. I’ve said it.

  I held my breath again, the vodka label gauzy now, the music swelling to a crescendo. He squeezed my shoulder again, and I waited for his sigh of impatience. It would tell me everything I needed to know.

  It didn’t come.

  “Do you feel the teaching process is over, then?” he asked.

  “Yes. I know what I want now, you’ve shown me that. Taught me that.”

  “You don’t feel you’ve become attached to me just because of what we’ve shared? That happens, you know. Subs think they love their teachers, when in fact it’s just an emotional tether that holds them together. Easily broken when they find someone else.”

  “Fuck, no!” I said, closing my eyes, erasing the sight of that damn label, and hating myself for blurting out like that.

  What was it I’d said? When emotions get involved… Oh, God, how had it come to this so soon? It wasn’t meant to happen for another four months. A year, he’d said. One year to teach me, then he’d set me free.

  “You believe you care about me?” he asked.

  “I love you. Sir.” I hadn’t meant to say that, not yet, but it had seemed natural. Right. This evening might well end sooner than it usually did. How quickly life changed direction. I’d gotten ready to meet him earlier, full of joy that tonight was actually here, and now look.

  He did sigh then and took his hand from my shoulder. “Turn to me, pet.”

  I bit my bottom lip and swiveled around, eyes still closed, head bowed. There was no question of my ignoring his request—I always obeyed him. What would it be like to no longer hear his commands? How the hell would I manage when kneeling alone at home, naked, knowing it was for no reason at all except an action played out from habit? He wouldn’t call me at the appointed time to ask if I’d tuned in to my inner self and thought of him—only him—and what he was going to teach me next.

  He slid his finger beneath my chin, raised my face, and I could only imagine his expression. Frowning—yes, I thought he’d be frowning, wondering how he was going to break it to me that he didn’t love me, that he’d taught so many women and the only way forward was to cut ties. He didn’t do attachment. He didn’t do love. How could I have been so stupid as to think I’d be the woman to change that? Had I believed I’d be different? The One?

  “Look at me, Lori.”

  I opened my eyes and stared into his, which always took my breath away. They bordered on black, tiny gray flecks darting in from the outer rim only to fade near the center, the pupils lost in the surrounding darkness. I held back the sudden onset of tears. They could come later, when I was by myself. And as for my lip threatening to tremble… I could only be glad I’d secured it between my teeth.

  “We have the same dilemma, pet.” He smiled, barely, an almost upwards tilt at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t want to let you go any more than you want me to.”

  I shook my head a little in disbelief. I hadn’t heard him right. I’d heard what I’d wanted to, and in reality he’d probably said he had to let me go.

  That our contract was binding.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head, eyes narrowed in a way I’d come to know as concern.

  I cleared my throat. “Please say that again, Sir.”

  “I don’t want to let you go. Didn’t you hear my slip earlier? What I’d said?”

  I thought back to the start of our conversation.

  “He saw you come in, had the urge to get up and meet you straight away, to greet you like a lover…”

  “I…it didn’t register,” I said. “I thought it was just part of the game. We always meet like this, talk like that. I just didn’t…”

  He smiled wider, still a soft curve, but the sight of it mellowed the butterflies’ flight from frantic to gentle. I felt less coiled, but it would take a while before I calmed completely. Our conversation had taken a turn I’d only dreamt about and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I knew what I wanted to do—fling myself off the stool and into his arms—but doing so in here, with other people as witnesses, wasn’t something I thought I could do. It had to be private, didn’t it, a moment like that.

  “I’ve had the advantage,” he said, “of having taught other subs, of knowing that emotions born of trust may well have nothing to do with love. But with you… Ah, my beautiful sub, it’s been so very different.”

  His voice, had it really cracked? Had his accent become thicker?

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, pulse fluctuating madly in my neck. “I can’t quite believe—”

  “Believe it,” he said. “If you’re willing, I want to collar you. I have the burning need to make you mine, to show that you’re mine. However…”

  He ran his thumb across my chin, a back-and-forth motion that set those wings to flapping faster inside me. Just a slight touch, a simple touch, and he had me wet, wanting to do anything—anything—he asked me to. No, I couldn’t be without him. Not now. We’d done so much, gone so far.

  He doesn’t want to let me go.

  I was flooded with that knowledge then and battled to remain in control. “However…?”

  “I needed to be sure you knew what you wanted. If you’d have told me you looked forward to being free in the lifestyle after our year had ended, so be it. I wouldn’t want to stand in your way. But collaring. It’s a big thing, as I’ve told you. It’s very real, very binding.”

  “I understand, Sir. I want what you want.”

  He nodded then dipped his head. The kiss he brushed onto my lips was so light I could be forgiven for thinking it hadn’t happened. But they burned, those lips of mine, the fire streaking from them straight down to my cunt. We had a connection, me and Jaska, one I couldn’t imagine sharing with any other man.

  “You must understand,” he said, “that a little kiss like that, with you, could send a man off kilter.”

  I smiled, my eyes watery. I blinked to clear my vision, not wanting it distorted so I couldn’t see his face clearly. I wanted to take in every micro-expression that flitted across it, to savor this moment, to allow myself to fully understand that his offer of one year had perhaps extended to a lifetime.

  “It’s the same for me, with you,” I said. “I can’t imagine kissing anyone else.”

  He traced his thumb over my lips, and I went with instinct and dashed my tongue out to lick it.

  “And that,” he said, “is exactly why I love you. Why things are different with you. The other subs waited to be told to do things like that. Whereas you…
My girl, you are such a perfect match for me.”

  “The contract,” I said. “It doesn’t apply anymore.”

  “No, it does not. I have another. Here, in my suit pocket. Just in case, you understand.”

  I nodded. He’d been unsure, then, hadn’t let himself believe I could love him any more than I’d thought he could love me.

  “When will I sign it, Sir?”

  “In a moment. When we go to our room. I just need to look at you first. For a moment, so I can…”

  “Can what?” I blinked again—damn those prickling tears—and swallowed.

  “So I can take it in, that you’re still here, that you want what I want.”

  He’d revealed something to me of which he was perhaps unaware. Although a Dom, he still faltered, was still unsure at times. I had thought, because he’d always been so strong, so in control, that he had every eventuality covered. I realized that I had so much more to learn. I’d forgotten that underneath the somewhat hard outer shell he’d presented to me, he was a person underneath.

  A man. With feelings.

  Feelings toward me.

  If I wasn’t so mesmerized by his eyes, by the swipe-swipe-swipe of his thumb, by his unsteady breathing, by that beautiful tweak of his lips, I would have lifted one hand to pinch myself.

  Chapter Two

  Diary, October 8th

  Last night wrung me out emotionally, and I was glad we hadn’t entered play. It wouldn’t have been the same. Jaska had said we should take some time to go through the new contract, for me to fully understand what he required of me and what I should expect from him. I’d been ready to sign it whatever it had contained, but as usual, he’d been right. Emotions were dangerous things, he’d said. They clouded judgment and made you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do.

  He’d explained about collaring before—had explained every aspect of the lifestyle in the eight months he’d been teaching me—but had gone through it again so things were clear. Then he’d confessed he’d already bought a collar. Just in case, he’d said, and had smiled sheepishly, reminding me once again that he had emotions, feelings that would present themselves more and more in the coming months and years.