S&M101

by Sierra Cartwright

  S&M101

  S&M101

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  S&M 101

  ISBN # 978-1-907010-45-3

  ©Copyright Sierra Cartwright 2009

  Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright June 2009

  Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Total-E-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, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-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 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-melting.

  S&M 101

  Sierra Cartwright

  The Rules

  Rule 1: Follow orders

  Rule 2: Expect the unexpected

  Rule 3: It can and will get worse

  Rule 4: No Pouting

  Rule 5: Don’t think too hard

  S&M101

  Chapter One

  “I’m not just bored,” Julia said, popping a peanut into her mouth, “but out of my skull, mind-numbingly, someone-please-save-me bored.” She dropped the empty shell onto the pub floor, then rubbed her hands together to clean off the salt.

  “And?”

  “I think you should spank me.”

  Trevor Kendall’s hand froze, the pint of beer mid-way to his lips. Without taking a drink, he lowered the glass back onto the table. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’ve heard rumours.”

  The incredibly hot, sexy man sitting across from her raised a brow, but when he said nothing, she propped her elbows on the table, and linked her hands together. Very deliberately, and fortified by more than a few sips from her margarita, she leaned forward, placed her chin on top of her hands and went on, “I’ve heard rumours that you like a little…variety in your sex life.”

  “Let me get this straight…”

  His blue eyes darkened, as if there were a storm brewing somewhere inside. She shivered in excitement.

  “You’ve heard that I like variety, and you’re bored, so I should spank you?”

  Despite the noise in the London hotel’s pub, she heard him perfectly. His voice was rich and deep, commanding. She gave a little shiver. She so wanted to hear him command her, telling her to strip, telling her to stand, how to spread her legs… God, it was getting hot in here. “Yes,” she said. “You should spank me. And then fuck me.”

  “You must be bored,” he agreed.

  Frustratingly, she couldn’t get a sense of whether or not he was going to take her up to his room.

  “We’ve been at this trade show for a week,” she said, “smiling at potential customers, being on our best behaviour, trying to pretend our feet don’t hurt like mad. Behaving. Well, I’ve had enough. I want to be bad.” She cracked another shell and poured the nut towards her mouth, catching it with her tongue.

  “Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?” He picked up his pint again. This time he took a long draught from it.

  She’d bet big money, big money, that he would be divine at eating her pussy. “I’ve been fantasising about you for two years, Trevor,” she confessed. “Two years. Do you know how long that is in dog years?”

  He smiled.

  “It could be another six months, maybe a year before I see you again.” And that was the truth. They worked for different companies, on different continents. New York was a universe away. But they had the trade shows in common. “Rumour has it you’re staying on for a few days of relaxation.”

  He nodded.

  “And I put in for some holiday time. Hoping.”

  “Hoping?” he prompted.

  Good God, was she really this bold? “Hoping we could hook up.” It was an American statement, but she trusted the meaning would translate just fine.

  They’d known each other, though not intimately, for more than five years. That happened at trade shows. Inevitably, there were quiet times, and vendors wandered between one another’s booths. Sometimes you stopped to make polite conversation and sometimes just to pinch a piece of chocolate from a glass bowl. Then, often, you had cocktails with other vendors each night after the show ended.

  Tonight was the first night she and Trevor had actually had been alone for drinks. Usually there was a crowd, but, if there’d been more than just the two of them, she’d never have asked him to fuck her.

  “What do you know about BDSM?”

  “That it should be safe, sane, and consensual,” she quipped.

  He took another drink. “How much experience do you have?”

  “I’ve been spanked. I’ve been tied up. And I’m hoping to find someone who will take me farther, teach me more.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  She froze on her way to reach for the metal bucket that was filled with peanuts. A bit puzzled, she followed his order. How could she not, when she wanted to hear his voice roughened with sex and command?

  “Palm up,” he instructed.

  She did.

  He put his index finger directly on her pulse. “Your heartbeat,” he observed, “it’s rather fast.”

  “That’s because I’m horny, and I’m hoping you’ll take me back to your hotel room.” His touch ignited her, and she felt her knickers moisten.

  “Being tied up and spanked is different than BDSM,” he said.

  “I’ve read about it.” She could succumb to the faint feelings of embarrassment, but if the gossip about him were true, he wouldn’t tolerate that from a woman he was involved with.

  “Are you’re wearing knickers?”

  She moistened her lower lip. The salt from the peanuts had dried her mouth, or at least that’s what she told herself. “A thong.”

  “That’s your first mistake. Stockings?”

  Of course a man like him would expect her to be wearing sexy, silky stockings and a feminine garter belt. Unfortunately, she was dressed yeoman-like, ready for a workday, not this kind of play. “Pantyhose.”

  “Go into the toilets and remove your undergarments. Dispose of them in the rubbish.”

  She blinked.

  “I’ll expect you back in ninety seconds. Run along.”

  She sat there for another few moments, and she forced herself to close her mouth.

  “Eighty seconds.”

  Quickly, she excused herself, sliding from the stool. Under the intensity of his gaze, the floor seemed like a long way down.

  She thought of an old story her mother used to tell her, about bearding a lion in his den. Well, getting Trevor’s attention was what she’d been wanting for years, right?

  Conscious of every pulsating blink that marked off another second on her digital watch, she hurried towards the toilets. Before pushing through the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. The turkey was drinking his Black and Tan, paying her no mind.

  Still, excitement slamming with nerves, she entered a stall and peeled off her p
antyhose and thong. She tossed both of them in the small bin. Thankfully it was right next to the toilet, which meant other ladies wouldn’t be watching when she threw away her knickers.

  She felt bare, naughty, and totally aroused.

  What else could he possibly have in store for her?

  He didn’t say anything when she rejoined him, but she noticed he’d ordered himself another beer.

  Once she was seated, he said, “Pull up your skirt. I want your bare arse on that stool.”

  She blinked.

  “And uncross your legs.”

  She was hyperaware of her pussy being exposed to the whisper of air- conditioning.

  “And part your thighs a bit.”

  “That’s indecent.”

  He went on as if she’d never spoken. “As for spanking you,” he said, “I could do that. I’d be happy to beat your arse with my hand or a belt, even a shoe or the back of a hairbrush if that turns you on.”

  The idea did. She fanned her face with her hand. “I’d, er, like another margarita.”

  “And I’d like you sober.”

  “So it doesn’t much matter what I want, then?”

  “Not so much.”

  Understanding began to dawn. He’d already started to dominate her. Her pussy moistened, and she felt the dampness more keenly with the lack of underpants.

  “But spanking you and fucking you and then sending you back to your hotel room doesn’t do much for me. That seems abusive, more than anything, not that I won’t do it if that’s all you want.” He started on his second pint. “But when I get involved with a woman, it’s rarely a one-night stand. I want the entire package, Julia. Bondage and discipline to go along with the sado-masochism. I want to warm your backside, in fact, a few welts would enhance your…assets.”

  Were they really having this conversation? How in the world had it gotten so one-sided? When she’d invited him for a drink, she’d intended to seduce him, get her butt beat, then have a shattering orgasm that would help her sleep until noon. But Trevor Kendall had turned the tables.

  “To me, though, it’s about more than warming your backside. I’m looking for your complete submission. It’s about seeing you on your knees, your breathing ragged as you wonder how you can please me.”

  “That’s what I want,” she said breathlessly. “I want to learn. I want you to be my instructor. Teach me, Trevor.”

  “Class is in session,” he said. Then he laughed. “What shall we call it? S&M 101?”

  “Why not?” She would have smiled back, but she was too shaken with nerves, too apprehensive that he’d turn her down. “I’m an excellent student. Honest.”

  “Are your nipples hard?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry?”

  “Check.”

  “What? Here? You want me to feel myself while we’re at happy hour at a posh hotel pub?”

  He raised a brow and waited with the confidence that she’d comply. “If you had removed your brassiere in the ladies room, I’d be able to see for myself.”

  “You didn’t tell me to.” Then she shut up. She should have asked. Could have assumed.

  “Are you being deliberately obtuse? Is a bra an undergarment?”

  Blood drained from her face. “I’ll, er, just nip in there right now and take it—”

  “I gave you a direct command. And following orders is rule number one of S&M 101. Now finger your nipple.”

  Her gaze darting about apprehensively to see if anyone were watching, she followed his instruction. She pulled her shirttails from her skirt’s waistband, and then moved her fingers upwards, then under the bra cup.

  “Have you ever played with nipple clamps?”

  “Yes. I have two sets.” She felt her nipple. “I’ve never used them with a man, only by myself when I masturbate.”

  “Tell me about your nipple. What does it feel like right now?”

  “It’s hard. Like a little pebble. It, I mean I, want more attention.”

  “Is your pussy getting wetter?”

  She nodded.

  “Then you like to submit? You like me telling you to do naughty things you wouldn’t ordinarily do. And you like to do them.”

  The proof was between her thighs.

  “You can stop playing with your nipple.”

  She could hardly believe that she hadn’t stopped when she wanted to, that she waited on him to tell her what to do.

  “I already know that you’re curious to know what a spanking from me would feel like. You’re curious to know if I’d have you lean over a chair, or if I’d tie you to the bedposts. And you’re doubly curious to know if I’d make you lay across my knee.”

  “The last one,” she said, barely able to talk. Where was the cheeky woman who’d asked for a spanking?

  “And you’re wondering, if, while you’re there, with your bottom in the air, hot from my hand, your hair brushing the floor, I’d finger your pussy and make you come.”

  She squirmed on her seat. “Yes,” she admitted, striving for her laissez-faire attitude from earlier. “That’s what I’ve been fantasising about.”

  “It’s been known to happen. I’m not an entirely selfish Dom. My sub’s pleasure matters to me. Tell me about a spanking you got.”

  “It was hot,” she said. “He tied my hands to the bedpost. I could wiggle around. He…he spanked me a half a dozen, maybe as many as ten times. His hand got tired before my butt did. He laid on top of me and fucked me after that. I came harder than I’d ever come before.”

  “Tell me what you liked about it.”

  The cocktail waitress stopped by the table. “More drinks? Something to eat?” she asked.

  “We’ll take the bill,” he said.

  Which meant they weren’t staying much longer . Julia knew she could climax just sitting here.

  The waitress left and he continued to patiently wait for her answer.

  “Rock back and forth a bit on the chair as you talk.”

  Ohmigod! The feelings were so intense; it was like being devoured by fire from the inside out. She was moist and slick. “I liked feeling helpless, about not knowing what to expect next. I was facedown, so I couldn’t see anything.”

  “Blindfolded?”

  “He told me to keep my eyes closed.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes. Mostly.”

  “So, no.”

  “No,” she breathed, her stomach clenching.

  “You were disobedient.” When she nodded, he asked, “And he still fucked you?”

  “It was impossible to keep my eyes closed.”

  The waitress dropped off their tab. “No, it wasn’t. You chose not to.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, paid the bill and left a huge tip. “We’ll go to my room,” he said. “And you’ll walk in front of me.”

  She’d rather expected he’d tell her to walk a few steps behind, like he was royalty. Or her Master.

  “I want you to move your hips as you walk. Make me think about sex. Make me think about my hard cock.”

  Leaving the bar without underwear and totally conscious of his gaze on her about rocked her world.

  He caught up with her to open the door. His breath was warm, and a tiny shiver tickled her, as he leaned in closer and said, “You know, Julia, with the way you’re moving, I’m not thinking about sex. I’m thinking about a good nap.”

  “What?” She gasped. She turned a bit so that she could look him in the face.

  “If that’s what you call moving your hips, we’ll go up to my room and be asleep in front of the news in five minutes.” He brushed her breast and then took the opportunity to gently bite her earlobe. “Now walk like a slut.”

  Damn him. The word was startling. But it was part of it, the raw, untamed part that she craved. She wanted to be a slut for him.

  Teeth gritted, she walked in front of him, aware of his gaze on her backside and the pain on her earlobe. As she exaggerated her movements, she felt more feminine.

  “Bet
ter,” he said.

  She waited while he rang for the lift.

  There were other people already in the car, and he nodded almost imperceptibly, wordlessly telling her to stand at the front where everyone could have a look at her.

  She’d never been much of an exhibitionist, yet she was getting more and more aroused by the moment. She knew the other people didn’t realise she was bare bottomed and that she was going to get spanked by a hottie, but she knew, and Trevor knew.

  When they reached his floor, he again had her precede him. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” he told her as he slid the cardkey into the electronic lock. “When I return, I’ll expect to find you naked, kneeling on the floor, knees spread to shoulder width, your hands behind your neck and your breasts thrust out. You’ll have your back to the door.” He waited for her to nod, then continued, “You’ll not touch your cunt. And you will have your eyes closed. Now repeat what I said.”

  “Faced away from the door, on my knees, naked, breasts thrust out…” Anyone walking past would have been able to overhear their conversation.

  He waited.

  “Eyes closed,” she finished, “and no touching myself.” He had no idea what he was demanding from her. Or, yes, he probably did. Just the idea of being told not to touch herself made her needy.

  “I want you properly submissive,” he said. “I want you to make sure you know what you’re doing. You’d be well-advised to think things through.” He crossed towards her and captured her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

  She’d rarely been more aroused.

  “Choose a word,” he told her. “It’ll be your safe word. If you use it, all play will stop. You should use it if you’re too scared. But know this. I will be watching you. I will know what turns you on, what frightens you, what terrifies you, where you are too reluctant to go. You will never need to use your word with me, but it will be there to make you feel comfortable.”

  “Vodka tonic.”

  “Vodka tonic?”