by Lila Dubois
Gotcha.
He was wearing boxers, but she found the wet spot where the tip of his cock had dampened them. She scratched the head of his dick with her nail and his hips bumped against her ass. Now who was—?
Lane ripped her hands from his pants and pushed her away. Surprised, Addie stumbled a step. She spun to see him fiddling with his fly. When he looked up, his eyes glittered with anger.
Shit.
“What were you trying to get out of that?” he growled. “You knew I didn’t get to fuck you, so you wanted to make it worse?”
“No, no I—” Addie took a breath, stopped herself from apologizing. She cocked her hip, put a hand on it. “All in good fun, right? You play with mine, I play with yours.”
Lane pressed both palms against his temples, let out a harsh breath. “You’re angry, worried, scared by how I made you feel.”
“No.” Addie held her hands up, as if to push the words away.
Lane walked across the room, grabbing her right wrist as he did to drag her along with him. “You will obey me, trust me.”
“You will earn it.”
He stopped short and Addie slammed into him. Pinching her chin, he tilted her face up so their gazes met. “I thought I had. What did I do that made you feel you couldn’t trust me?”
Addie lowered her gaze to his lips, breathing heavily through her nose. There was nothing to say—he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it had to be a mistake to give in so readily to something—submission—that went against everything she was.
The silence held for another long beat and Lane pulled away, leaving her. Addie looked at her bare toes, wondering if she’d made a tactical error. When a pile of rope landed near her left foot, she still wasn’t sure.
“This is nylon rope.” Lane rubbed a loop of the rope, about as wide as a tube of mascara, against her belly. “It’s smooth, meaning it won’t abrade your skin. Rope burn isn’t just an expression.”
“Is this another rule, only use nylon rope?” she quipped, but the words came out a little shaky.
“No, there’s no rule. When I play, I consider the fact that my subs have normal lives, jobs, sometimes husbands or boyfriends who aren’t into BDSM. All those things equal no lasting marks on wrists or ankles—hence nylon.” As he spoke, Lane loosely wrapped three loops of rope around her right wrist. He fed the end under the loops, against the top of her arm, and tied an elaborate knot. A long tether dangled from the rope bracelet he’d just made. He repeated the process for her other wrist.
“You have sex with married women?”
“Some of them are.”
“And you’re okay with that, you think that’s what marriage is?”
“I think,” Lane made a large double loop of rope in his hand and tied another complicated knot, “that a marriage is between two people, and if part of that marriage involves the woman having a session with me, then I’m more than happy to help.” Lane dropped the loop over her head. The knot rested against her breastbone. “And I never said I had sex with them, that was you.”
“A noose?” Addie plucked at rope now dangling around her neck. “Charming.” She tugged at the trailing end. It didn’t tighten.
“Did you really think I’d put a slipknot around your neck?”
She shrugged but didn’t answer.
Lane shook his head. “You’re pushing my buttons, girl.”
“Don’t like it when they aren’t just falling all over themselves to fuck you, boy?” Addie raised a brow and smiled.
Lane dropped to his knees before her and created two more rope bracelets around the top of her calves, just below her kneecaps. “I don’t like it when my subs won’t tell me what’s really going on, what they’re really thinking and feeling.”
“Your subs…like a stable of horses.”
Lane rose, gathering the trailing ends of the five ropes. “Anything but, that’s not how I see the women I share these experiences with.”
“I bet you thi—”
“Enough.” Lane pulled the rope attached to her right knee, buckling that leg. Addie tumbled into him.
“Bastard,” she hissed against his shirt. He smelled like fabric softener, leather and sweat.
“Though this whole experience was meant to be more of a sample than a true introduction to being a submissive, I think you need some proper training. Follow me.”
Lane walked to the dining set. He was holding the ropes, giving Addie no choice but to follow close behind him.
Addie couldn’t seem to center herself. One moment she was riding the fire of her anger, her determination to stay strong in the face of his arrogant domination helping her to ignore the arousal churning in her belly. In the next breath something he said would throw her off beat, like his admitting to being with married women, and she’d lose track of both her anger and arousal.
“Up. Up on the table.”
“What?” Addie’d been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t had time to second-guess what was coming and plan her reactions. Now the chance was gone, because Lane was looking at her with those steady, intense eyes.
“Addie, you’re trying my patience. Get up on the table.”
Addie pulled out a chair and used it as a step. She moved cautiously, very aware of the leads he held. Surely he wouldn’t pull her leg out from under her as she stood three feet off the ground. SJ was perched on the couch, camera snapping away. As Addie looked at her, SJ whispered into her collar and a light high above came on, adding another layer of illumination to the table area.
Addie felt more naked than she had on the floor, and crossed one arm over her breasts, placing the other in front of her sex.
“You may not hide yourself from me. Arms down.” Lane pulled one of the ladder-back chairs four feet back from the table, looping the ropes through the top crosspiece.
“It’s my body,” she hissed.
“When you enter the bedroom, you turn yourself over to me. In exchange for that trust, you get pleasure and freedom.”
“Freedom? What American dream bullshit is that?”
“No bullshit.” Lane yanked the rope connected to her right wrist, forcing her hand away from her breasts. “It’s the truth. With Doms, with me, there are no games, just physical reality and emotions. I will never think less of you for being scared, excited, pleasured, disinterested or aroused. It’s sex without pretenses.” He yanked the rope on her left wrist.
Addie curled her hands into fists. “This is nothing but pretense. The toys, the ropes.” Addie grabbed the ropes and whipped them, hoping to shake them loose.
Lane’s arm shot out, quick as a snake, and caught the waving nylon. The rope pulled taut, the tension between them now a physical thing.
“They’re just tools. I use them to strip away the sexual mind games women have been taught to play.”
“No, they’re just sex toys.”
“You’re not listening. You’re being a brat on purpose and it’s making me angry.”
“Now the truth comes out.” Addie jerked on the ropes, grunting when he didn’t budge, “You don’t like it when a woman stands up to you.”
“Is that what you think, that I don’t respect or enjoy strong women?”
Lane tugged hard and Addie stumbled forward. She gasped as she rocked to a halt less than six inches from the edge of the table. She met Lane’s gaze, her eyes wide with shock.
He nearly pulled me off the table.
Lane pulled the ropes free of the chair and took a seat, wrapping them around his left wrist. “Let’s begin. I want you to start by lacing your fingers together behind your head and spreading your legs. This is the presentation position.” He added a bit of slack to the ropes at her wrists.
“I-I won’t.” Her voice trembled.
“Addie, tell me what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.” Lane’s tone was coaxing, gentle.
“No.”
“Then do as instructed.” The command was harsh, almost frightening.
“No.�
�
“Five.”
The random number was so out of sync with everything that had come before it that Addie blinked. “What?”
“Presentation position. You have fifteen seconds.”
“Why did you say five?”
Lane held her gaze for a long moment, then said, “Time’s up. Now it’s ten.”
Oh fuck.
“You mean punishment. A…spanking.” Addie slid her hand along her outer thigh, drawing his attention to her ass.
“Don’t get your hopes up, a spanking for punishment is very different than one meant to arouse.”
“I’m not hoping you’ll spank me,” she shot back.
“Really? Because everything about you says that you’re more aroused now than you were before you figured out you have a spanking coming. Now, presentation position. You do not want that number to go above ten.”
Addie licked her lip, looked away, and slowly raised her arms. She laced her fingers behind her head, aware of her breasts lifting. A draft touched the soft skin where her breasts attached to her rib cage and she shivered.
A tug at her right knee reminded her to spread her legs. Addie stepped wide. The shock of cold as air hit her very wet sex made Addie flinch. She closed her eyes.
“Don’t hide from me. Whatever’s in you right now you need to share with me.”
“Sex, my body—fine. My thoughts are mine.” She ground the words between her teeth as she opened her eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Why does it matter?”
Lane sighed and tapped his foot, looking at the floor. When he raised his head his face was impassive. “Next position is called knee up. I want you to drop to your knees, spread them as wide as possible. Keep you upper body erect, arms behind your head.”
He gave her play and Addie took a step back before dropping to her knees. The ropes pressed painfully into her, but she didn’t say anything. She absorbed the discomfort, not even sure anymore why she was fighting him.
Lane stood and came to her. Dropping the ropes for her wrists behind her back, he pulled them between her spread legs and then tied the ends to the table legs. He did the same with the ropes attached to her knees, first wrapping each around her lower thigh a few times before attaching it to the table legs also. He took a step back, seemingly to check his work. Addie tried to shift, the ropes rubbing against the edge of the table. The only thing she could do was lift her elbows, putting her hands farther down her back, which raised her breasts higher.
Without any warning or preface, he pressed two fingers between the lips of her sex. Addie gasped.
“That’s right, when you’re subbing, your Dom has the right to touch you when he wants, how he wants. If you submit, if you let him into your mind, tell him what you’re thinking and feeling, then in payment for access to, and control over, that beautiful body, he’ll give you freedom.”
Lane’s fingers circled around her clit, not quite touching it. “Look at me, Addie, look at me as I touch you, as I talk to you. Can you imagine the freedom of letting go for a few hours? You don’t have to think, plan, worry. You trust that your Dom knows you and your body so well that he will pleasure you. He’ll surprise you. He’ll take you to dark,” Lane tucked the trailing end of the rope around her neck under her breast, then looped it up over the top, tightening it until her breast stood away from the wall of her chest, captured in the rope, “dangerous places.”
Addie’s gaze flickered from Lane to her breast, which was now flushing pink. “I can’t, I can’t,” she whispered.
“Lift your hair off your neck for me.” When she did, Lane blew across her neck, raising a shiver. “I know you can’t. Because you’re a strong woman, aren’t you? You’re strong, but feminine. Every day you try to prove that you can be both.”
Yes.
Tears welled in Addie’s eyes. She tipped her head back to keep them from falling. Lane’s fingers in her pussy now danced around the edges of her clit. She shuddered and rocked forward.
“You liked giving control to me, but you feel as if you’ve betrayed who you are.”
Addie closed her eyes and nodded. A single tear rolled down each cheek. She felt the wet tip of Lane’s tongue as he licked them away.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” Lane’s fingers closed in on her clit, rolling the bud in hard, tight circles. “It’s the powerful women who are most in need.” Lane released the rope at her breast and pinched the nipple, hard. The flood of returning blood combined with the hard pinch had her screaming between clenched teeth. “And most deserving of a chance to let go.”
Addie came, her whole body tensing into the ropes. Lane wanted to grab her, absorb that power for himself, but he stepped back, keeping his fingers in her pussy to prolong her orgasm, but giving her the space to ride the moment all on her own.
He slid his middle finger into her sex, the heel of his hand on her clit, and waited for the pulses in her sex to stop. She’d held her position, though her shoulders were bowed, her hair falling over her face. Lane took his hand from her pussy and licked her taste from his finger. Now it was his turn to shudder. His cock was like steel in his pants, the need to fuck her so strong that he shook with it.
Lane untied her and lifted her from the table, carrying her to the couch, which SJ quickly vacated.
“Talk to me,” he whispered against the top of her head.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” He stroked her back with one hand, massaged a calf with the other.
“That it’s the strong women who need to let go, who need this time to not think. Not play games.”
Lane doubted she knew it but her tone dripped with longing. “Yes, and they’re always the most beautiful when they submit.”
“And after, are they…different?”
“No.” Lane chose his words carefully. “After, they’re whatever they want to be, because the way I play means leaving it in the bedroom. The other Doms will have other ideas, but that’s how I play.”
Addie sighed. They sat in peace for a moment, and Lane only wished he’d thought to add a throw to the set dressing. Aftercare was always nice, though this was less than comfortable as her ass was on his rock-hard dick.
“And a good Dom will know his sub, his girl,” Addie said.
“Yes, and he’ll use that knowledge to pleasure them both, and to challenge them with new things. New tools.”
Addie smiled then, and he felt the last of the tension leaving her. The poor woman had walked into the building less than eight hours ago and she’d already had her first sub crisis. Usually it took several sessions over the course of a month to get there—then again usually the Dom was training the girl for real.
Lane winced at the thought. It wasn’t fair to Addie to say this wasn’t real, when what she was going through had all the markers of a real submissive experiencing her first session.
The one thing none of them had considered was that they’d stumble on a model who was a submissive, in desperate need of a Dom.
Well, Lane had never been a man to turn away from a good thing—and Addie was a good thing. She might not know it yet, but she was going to be his submissive for a little while, for her own sake as much as for his pleasure. When C&C’s project was over, the no-fucking, no-kissing rules would no longer apply and then Lane could do what he’d been thinking of since he first saw Addie’s photos—bending her over and fucking her until neither of them could walk.
There was a lot of ground to cover between now and then, including Addie’s sessions with Emory and Alton. At the thought of the other men touching her, Lane growled, squeezing her.
“Lane?” she asked. Her eyes were still bright from the tears she’d shed. The perfect mane of dark hair framed her oval face and Lane was sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
“Yes. There’s something we have to take care of.”
Maybe if he hadn’t just resolved to continue his D/s relationship with her he would ha
ve dropped the promised spanking, but now he couldn’t. She wasn’t going to like this, he was sure of that.
“What’s that?”
Lane cupped her neck and tipped her chin up by applying pressure under her jaw with his thumb. “Your spanking.”
Addie couldn’t stop the shiver that racked her. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.
“I’m guessing you’ve seen the famous Betty Page spanking photos, your hair is like hers.”
“It’s called a Betty Page bang, and yes, I’ve seen them.”
“Then you’ll get your spanking with a hairbrush, across my knee.”
Lane shifted her to the side and Addie curled up on the couch. When Lane walked away, she drew her knees up, resting her chin on them. She was post-orgasm mellow and missing the heat of his body. It had felt good to be held by him, really good. When he returned, she kept her knees up, but inched her feet apart, exposing her pussy.
“Perfect, beautiful,” he murmured, dropping to a knee to trace the insides of her legs with two fingers.
Lane rolled to his feet and pulled one of the dining chairs in front of the fire. He positioned a small ottoman to one side.
“That looks good,” SJ said from behind Addie. “The photos will be beautiful.”
Addie had almost forgotten about the photographer, and the knowledge that her spanking would be captured on film…aroused her. With a moan, she buried her face against her knees.
“Adelita, come here.” Lane’s voice was cold, harsh. The strong, gentle man who’d promised her freedom if she let go was gone.
Addie slid from the couch, more embarrassed by her arousal than afraid. For all his sudden harshness, she wasn’t expecting this to hurt. Lane liked her, he wanted to pleasure her. She’d had a few boyfriends spank her during sex, and it had always turned her on, though she’d never admitted how much.
Lane took a seat in the chair, the fireplace at his back. He sat at the edge of the chair, his right leg forward, the left tucked to the side.
“Put your hips across my thigh. You may rest your face and shoulders here,” he pulled the ottoman into position near his leg, “since it’s your first spanking. Next time you’ll have to brace yourself on the floor.”
