Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  ‘Answer me,’ I demand against her mouth, gripping the gorgeous rounds of her bottom for emphasis. ‘Tell me what you’re feeling, and if it’s good, or speak the safe word.’

  My heart pounds as she hesitates. Does she know how much this means to me? How something greater, something fugitive and indefinable hinges on her answer? Emotions flit and plunge about my mind, shocking me. I must remain resolute though. It’s just adrenaline that’s affecting me. Arousal, and the heat of the moment. Nothing more.

  ‘I… I like it,’ she answers, barely more than a breath. ‘I don’t know why. I just do. It’s against my nature. Everything I’ve ever felt. But I want more. I… um… I want everything, I think. But I don’t know what that is.’

  I almost laugh. Her answer is perfect. Eloquent. Somehow summing up the urges of this strange mirror world of BDSM play perfectly.

  Just as I said, as I suspected, she’s a natural.

  Susannah

  What the hell am I babbling about? I don’t know anything. Why am I asking for ‘everything’? I probably can’t take it. But I feel so hungry, and so turned on; he’s making me crazy. My pussy flutters, confirming my confused thoughts, clarifying them with the simplicity of lust. My hips rock of their own volition it seems, and I rub my crotch against his in forbidden forwardness.

  ‘Good. Very good.’ His fingers close tightly around my buttocks and squeeze again, fingers digging in. Not quite cruel, but powerful enough to make me moan again. ‘But you have to try to control yourself, Suzie. You have to be a quiet, obedient submissive. Do you understand?’ He kneads me even harder for emphasis, raising the stakes.

  I nod my head. I daren’t speak, because I might whimper and beg him to do… something… if I open my mouth.

  I keep as still as I can, on the macro scale. But I can’t stop my flesh from pulsing, almost on the edge of orgasm, or the silk of my arousal slithering again down my thigh.

  Jamie’s fingers plunge into my cleft as if he has superpowers and he’s detected the flow.

  ‘Hell, you’re wet, aren’t you? Running like a river, and we’ve barely even begun. I can’t begin to imagine how you’ll be when I start spanking you.’ He plunges two fingers crudely into my vagina from behind and nips at my lower lip with his straight white teeth. ‘I like it though. I really, really like it.’ His voice is husky as he parts his fingers, stretching me.

  I can’t wait. I feel as if I’m going to explode. I want to rub my clit furiously and come again. I start to reach down and do the deed, but he cuts me off.

  ‘No, no, no, wicked woman. No more orgasms until I say so. Your pleasure is mine to grant now. Your orgasms are mine. Your bottom and your pussy are mine.’

  He plunges his fingers in deeper, and just as my clit starts to throb, he snatches them back out again and lands a little, light slap on my buttock.

  Unable to contain it, I yelp. Not at the pain in my bum, which is minimal, though a shock. No, it’s the agony of frustrated lust that hurts so much. My clit feels enormous, my whole sex critical and yearning. One touch and I’d be off like a rocket.

  Taking me by the upper arms, he puts me away from him a little, looking up and down my body. I daren’t glance in the mirror across the room, but I can imagine the sight of me. Pink of face, mouth slack with lust, pupils dilated. Nipples furiously erect, body trembling and blushing also. The gleam of aroused moisture on my thighs.

  ‘Sublime,’ he says, grinning archly. ‘Such a wanton, horny little trollop.’ He runs his tongue over his lips as if he’s imagining my taste. ‘Now you need taming. Punishment for your lack of control and your disobedience.’ His eyes crinkle in amusement. He knows all this role-talk is absurd, just the way that I do. It’s part of the game; it’s fun, indispensable, a playful ritual.

  I stand before him, my fingers tingling with the effort of not flying to my pussy.

  ‘So where shall we do this thing?’ He looks around the room, and his gaze settles on a rather ordinary straight-backed chair to one side of the dressing table. He nods. ‘That’ll do. Fetch it here.’ He points to a spot close by.

  I hurry to obey. The chair isn’t all that heavy, but it feels solid and well made. I’m very conscious of the wood pressing against my belly as I carry it. The slight pressure seems to transmit to my aching clit, stirring my need to come.

  Gingerly, I set the chair in place and stand beside it, waiting and wishing that I were sitting astride the damn thing, bearing down and rocking my sex against the seat.

  Again, Jamie’s slight smile seems to suggest that he’s read my mind. With an indolent grace, he sits down, almost lounging for a moment, then sets his feet squarely on the carpet, parting his thighs a bit and making a stable lap, the platform for my punishment.

  He doesn’t speak. He just pats his strong, muscular thigh. Over we go.

  Heck, how do I do this? I’m shaking. How do I stay graceful? I don’t want to tumble head first onto the floor or anything.

  But as I make as if to drape myself over him like a living rag doll, his hands come up and he gently supports me and guides me into position with the lightest of touches. In an instant, I’m stretched across his lap, and I feel a bit precarious but far more balanced than I expected, thanks to the way his thighs are spread and his feet braced flat on the carpet. The fact that his toes are bare seems to give him better grip. I don’t quite know what to do with my arms, so I grip the edge of the chair and the chair leg.

  ‘Good girl,’ he says softly. There’s almost a note of tenderness there. Of affection, and maybe even admiration. I must have got the positioning right.

  His hands settle upon me, flat at first and smoothing over the rounds of my bottom in a gentle circular stroking action, as if he were rubbing in lotion. Softening me up, no doubt. It’s calming, yet exciting. A precursor. His fingertips flicker lightly up and down my rear cleft, barely touching. How can something I can hardly feel make me want to squirm and grind so much?

  ‘Mm…’

  The sound is speculative, as if he’s noting my reaction for the future. I wonder what the point of that is if we just have one night. A cold finger of regret touches my heart, then I forget it as he begins to squeeze and manhandle my buttocks more excitingly, kneading the flesh.

  ‘Part your thighs a little. Let me see more,’ he instructs.

  And I try to comply without losing my equilibrium. I yelp when he gives my right buttock a little pinch.

  ‘Just testing your reactions.’ He pinches again, but I clamp my lips shut. ‘Always remember “emerald”. We can stop whenever you want.’

  ‘I don’t want to!’ I’m sure it’s a defiance of the rules, whatever they are, but I’m anxious to proceed. I want what’s coming. I want it a lot. But I fear it too, and the anticipation is making me crazy.

  He laughs. ‘Well, that’s convenient, because neither do I.’

  With that, he lands the first spank.

  Oh God, it hurts. His hand is hard. It’s like fire from out of nowhere. A squeak of surprise and pain echoes round the beautifully appointed room, and the bigger surprise is that it came out of my mouth.

  Already burning squarely across the crown of one buttock, I’m also astonished to realise that I’ve stopped clinging to the chair with my left hand and have got it clasped tightly against the punished area.

  ‘Oh no, no, no. You mustn’t do that. How can I aim?’ Jamie prises away the offending paw and takes hold of my wrist, pressing it lightly but firmly against the small of my back, securing me and bracing at the same time. ‘Do I have to tie your hands? Or can you behave yourself?’ He punctuates the statement with another vigorous slap on the other cheek.

  Holy hell, this is mad. It hurts like fury. How stupid am I not to have realised that?

  Or realised how else it might affect me? As I pant and try to gather my breath, the silk from my pussy gathers too, and I feel it well and trickle onto the denim of Jamie’s jeans.

  ‘It’s all right… um… Master,’ I add, real
ising I’m not acting how a submissive should. He doesn’t laugh, but I almost seem to feel his smile in his entire body. ‘It was just the surprise. I won’t do it again.’

  ‘I should think not.’ Another slap lands for emphasis. Another slice of force and fire. ‘A good submissive lies perfectly still and quiet across the master’s lap. No wriggling about like a maniac, or yelping, or grabbing at the target area.’

  Each named sin is marked by a wallop, and though I don’t grab again, I succumb to the other two transgressions.

  I can’t keep quiet. It hurts like a bitch. And at the same time, my sex seems to hurt more, gnawed by desire. Not being touched, not having my clit stroked and played with, is far more of a torment than a score of ferocious spanks.

  He lands more slaps. Two? Three? Seven? God knows… All I know for sure is that the effect on my pussy is exponential. I’m somehow a hair away from coming. Maybe all it needs is another spank from him, or another strategic squirm from me, and I’ll be there.

  ‘Keep still,’ he says in a low, stern, and very thrilling voice, ‘and keep quiet. Try to keep it all in. Bottle it up. It’ll be better in the end.’

  In a moment of clarity, I know what he means. When I do come, I’ll go into orbit.

  The punishment continues, but I manage to control myself. To behave. It’s almost like a meditation somehow. My arse is in flames, and my pussy is screaming with need and desire, but I keep myself relatively still. And I bite my lip to keep in my moans and whimpers. I’m almost certain I can taste blood from that.

  And then it all stops.

  ‘How do you feel?’

  I’m gasping and panting. I couldn’t stop myself doing that, even if I managed not to vocalise. My brain is numb. What are words? Will I ever be able to form coherent speech ever again?

  ‘I… I don’t know,’ I manage at last. ‘I feel as if my arse is on fire… but…’

  ‘But what?’ He leans right over the back of me, because I’ve no breath for more than a whisper. His face brushes my hair, and I can feel his breath against it.

  ‘That’s not the worst thing. My arse, that is…’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I…’ I realise that tears are streaming from my eyes. They’re nothing to do with pain in my rear and everything to do with unquenched desire.

  His hand settles on my flank in a soft, reassuring gesture. I just break down into weeping, falling apart.

  ‘Hush, hush, hush,’ he soothes, his voice like music, like that of an angel. ‘You’re all right, Suzie. It’s just reaction. It’s your first time. It’s bound to be intense.’ He kisses my hair, rubbing his face against it as my bottom burns on and my pussy weeps as I do, for him.

  In the middle of the chaos, a still, small voice says to me, If only it wasn’t just for tonight.

  Chapter Eight

  Susannah

  That thought wakes me up somehow. Makes me get a grip. I rub at my face and struggle to get up, even though it makes me wince. I can’t let him see how much I suddenly want more of him. The ‘session’ or whatever it’s called is over; even a novice like me can tell.

  Jamie knows it too, his face a frowning picture as I get to my feet.

  ‘I’m sorry. I went at it too hard, didn’t I?’ He rises too, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes me in his arms, cradling me again, careful of my punished bottom.

  Oh, don’t do this, I want to say. Don’t be so wonderful. I’ll only want more.

  But I can’t break away. He feels too good. Smells too good. Is too good.

  ‘It’s me who should be sorry. I thought I could take it, but I broke down like a ninny, didn’t I?’

  His hand moves slowly and rhythmically on my naked back. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about, Suzie. Your reaction is perfectly normal.’ His fingers still. ‘Maybe BDSM just isn’t your thing. It’s not for everybody.’

  But it is my thing. It’s very much my thing—with him, at least.

  ‘I… I did like it. Really. It’s just intense. A shock to the system.’ I shrug, ease away, and look up into his eyes. ‘I suspect you’re very good at this. It’s just that I’m a beginner.’

  ‘And I should have made allowances,’ he says firmly, leaning down, kissing my cheek.

  Desire surges, so confusing. I don’t even know what’s driving it the most: the spanking or his sweetness. Both probably. And part of me wants to get out of here before I reveal myself too much. But the rest of me, the greater part, wants to stay and make love.

  Well… fuck, really. Jamie loved me once, but he doesn’t now, although I have the sneakiest feeling that I still do love him, even if it’s been buried, buried deep, for all these years.

  ‘Would you like me to take you home?’ His face is a little sad, wistful, almost as if he’s as confused as I am. ‘I’ll ring down for a taxi. Like I said, I never ride when I’ve had a drink, and that cute little suit of yours isn’t biking gear anyway.’

  The words ‘Okay, that sounds great’ hover on my tongue, but disappointment and frustration scream through me. No, I won’t be denied. No way. Even if it’s just the once, I must have him again.

  ‘Well, that’s a very chivalrous offer, kind sir.’ I ease closer to him and press my pelvis against his. Despite his gallant offer, his cock is raging hard again, ready to rock. ‘But it feels to me as if there’s a rather pressing piece of unfinished business we need to attend to. Just for old times’ sake?’

  Jamie

  Oh God, woman, you’re amazing!

  I know something weird happened with her just now. It was something emotional, something not quite what I want. But still she’s game for sex. Willing to satisfy herself, and me, and be pragmatic.

  I shouldn’t take advantage of her. I should be a better man and insist on taking her home. Or perhaps give her another orgasm and then take her home. But I can’t resist her gorgeous body, and just the excitement of being with her again drives me crazy.

  She’s Suzie, after all. My very first love.

  I’ve never felt so confused in all my life. Well, I have, but only once, when we parted. But I’ve also never felt so turned on before either. Not even after the most rigorous and exotic discipline games.

  ‘Are you sure, love?’ I can see in her eyes she’s not quite sure, but she does this sort of amazing shimmying thing, more psychological than physical, bracing herself up.

  ‘Never surer.’ She licks her lips, back in control, as if I never had the upper hand at all. ‘Although I think I might have to be on top, what with all this…’ She reaches behind herself, touches her bottom, and then bites her lip.

  ‘Your wish is my command.’ Releasing her, I attack my zip and in a flash, I’m out of my jeans and underwear, naked like her. I grab her above the waist and hold her close again, pressing my cock against her as we stand pelvis to pelvis. The feel of her soft pubic hair almost makes me shoot my load against her thigh, but I do some bracing up of my own, taming my urges by pouring a stream of code through my mind. Within barely a second, I’m under control, still rock-hard, but not hair trigger.

  Time to kiss. Really kiss.

  Her mouth is pliant under mine, but firm too, deliciously plush. She tastes faintly of my semen but also champagne, an intoxicating blend. First she invites my tongue in deep, softening to me, but just when she’s got me where she wants me, she rallies back, twisting and teasing, a heavenly serpent. Our bodies surge and rock against each other, and astonishingly, she reaches behind herself with both hands and guides me down to her buttocks. She growls low within the kiss as my fingers cup her instinctively, but instead of pulling away again, she presses on the backs of my hands, urging me to grip harder.

  She does like it. She really does. Just as I thought before, she’s a natural.

  Once again, I’m fighting for control, mentally running more code.

  Susannah

  Why did I do that? I must be mad. But somehow the pain in my bottom is turning me on and fuelling my lust, ramping it up to
such intensity that it overrides the turmoil of my emotions and makes them, at least, manageable.

  ‘Let’s fuck,’ I hiss at him, jerking my hips, squeezing his hands against me once more, then grabbing one and swirling around to lead him to the bed.

  When I get there, it dawns on me that I don’t want to be on top. I want to feel the heat and sting of my spanking as he powers into me. Climbing on with far less grace than I’d like, I slither onto my back, riding the wave of fire. I can’t say I don’t notice the pain, because I bloody well do, but somehow, irrationally, it just increases my anticipation of the moment. The more I wriggle into place on the bed, the more the sensation surges and the more I long for him. Tugging at his hands, I urge him on board, and after a moment of contemplation, he complies.

  With so much more elegance than I achieved. Like a beautiful pagan god, he looms over me, a creature of green eyes, black hair, and sexual majesty. He kisses me hard again, exploring my body with a rough, urgent hand, squeezing and assessing, making me gasp when he reaches beneath to stir the conflagration in my buttocks.

  ‘Whoever knew you were into this,’ he says, soft and low and fierce as he takes me, pressing his fingertips strongly into the sizzling heat. ‘How did I never guess all those years ago?’

  Squirming, I drag my heels and rock my hips, not retreating from his hold on me, but just wanting to cram my sex against his and demand that he service me. ‘I didn’t know myself, then. I didn’t know anything. I was an idiot.’

  ‘No you weren’t. You were wonderful. You still are.’

  For a moment my heart lifts, pain and even pleasure forgotten. Is there a chance?

  Then I quash the thought. This is just a one-night stand. He was very emphatic on that score.

  Don’t get big ideas, Suze.

  ‘I’m older. I know myself better.’

  ‘Me too.’

  I push the thought away again, hopefully for good this time.

  ‘So let’s fuck then.’ That’s one way to take my mind away from troubling notions.

  ‘So randy…’ He laughs and rolls away, reaching for a condom from the bedside table. I noticed earlier that he’d laid out a few there while I was in the bathroom.