Dominance and Submission - Write Away, Sir

by Alexandra Noir

  She rose to her feet slowly and bowed her head to the ground, fixing her gaze on her shoes. Her first act of submission for him. It was oddly exciting and terrifying at the same time. Her heart was pounding, and she was immediately panicked that someone outside might figure out what she was about to do. She cooled her head as best she could, but he seemed to sense what was going through her mind anyway and did his best to calm it.

  “Just focus on what I’m telling you,” he ordered softly, and his voice seemed to cut through the rush of confusion that was currently pulsing in her brain, stilling it, like a wave of the ocean. She let out a breath and turned to the door, placing her hand on the handle. And, with a push and a final muster of her courage, she stepped outside and into the room beyond.

  It was packed full of people, all going about their daily tasks, none of them so much as noticing her as she made her way through the office. Most of them were kind enough to step out of her way – probably thought she was as writer lost in thought, or something like that – so she didn’t have to worry about knocking into any of them. Every time she felt her feet falter, she pulled back into her mind the feeling of his words cutting through the hustle and bustle of her brain: when he spoke, it just seemed to make sense. She liked that. It made everything easier.

  She moved through the office and towards the space where she knew the café was waiting for her. How many times had she gone in there, just wandering in for a quick caffeine hit after a long meeting? Never in a million years had she imagined that it would be the setting for something so serious, something that already felt momentous to the course of her life.

  She had never let anyone else take control of her in her entire life. Not even in the bedroom. That just wasn’t how she worked. But, as she calmly waited in line, it felt as though it was the most natural thing in the world. When she arrived at the counter, she asked for Cameron’s order, keeping her eyes down the whole time, as though he would be able to sense her insubordination even from across the office. She knew that it was crazy, knew that he couldn’t see her or hear her or know where her eyes were looking, but that didn’t matter. She had to obey him because it was right; it was the choice that she had made for herself, the choice that she had accepted. She wasn’t going to have it any other way. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to, because she was simply carrying out his command, his word, the word that mattered most in the world to her right then.

  She took his cup and kept her eyes carefully pinned to the ground as she wound her way back through the building and towards his office. She could feel a few people giving her funny looks, but she couldn’t care less; she was just focused on carrying out the task that she had been given to the best of her ability, and that meant making sure that his coffee arrived to him just as he wanted it.

  She pushed the door open carefully and stepped inside, clutching the coffee cup almost reverently like it was the Holy Grail. Some part of her felt a little silly, but another part felt proud; she had done what he wanted, and that was all that mattered.

  He got to his feet, and she glanced up at him.

  “Eyes down,” he ordered at once, and she obeyed without question.

  “Kneel.”

  “What?”

  “Kneel,” he repeated himself, and she looked around to make sure that nobody else was around to catch her getting up to something so utterly deviant with the man she was meant to be working for. Before she could over-think it any further, she lowered herself to her knees before him, staring at a spot on the carpet in front of her. It was a soft blue color, almost tranquil, but the racing of her heart felt like it was going to come busting straight out of her chest.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, and he moved around the desk to stand in front of her. He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her, and still it felt like she was going to explode from the sheer tension of not having his hands all over her. She could feel a throb, deep down in her belly, the low moan of a want for something, anything, from him.

  “Hand me the cup.”

  She held the cup aloft, and he plucked it from her hands, and she shifted a little, the carpet scratching against her knees. She was wearing a skirt, and she was distinctly aware of the fact that it was riding up slightly at the back. If anyone was to walk in on them, God forbid, then they would likely get a no-holds-barred view straight up her-

  “You’ve done well, Stephanie,” he murmured, and the sound of his affirmation seemed to seal something in her. She smiled, making sure to keep her eyes pinned to the ground. Yes. She had pleased him. For now, she would take that as the only kind of relief she needed. The thrill of it seemed to pulse, hot, in her veins, and she wondered how she had managed to go so long without involving something like this in her life.

  “You can stand up now,” he told her, and she raised herself from the ground slowly. She could hardly believe she had just done that; she felt as though she was emerging from a long trance, her head slowly sinking back into the real world. She wasn’t sure she liked it there, not compared to that place she had just been.

  “You did well.” He grinned at her, and she finally let herself relax. Knowing that she had pleased him was more than enough.

  “But I still have a lot more to show you,” he half-told, half-warned her. “Do you think you can handle it?”

  “If it means I can nail this book, then I know I can,” she replied firmly. She still felt a little fluttery, the same feeling she’d had in her chest right before she had called him “sir” at the end of the party. Not for anyone else, but for her – for them.

  “I’m already impressed,” he replied, and he took a sip of his drink. “You know, I think this tastes better knowing you brought it to me.”

  “I should hope so,” she replied, a little bratty edge to her voice. He paused, raising his eyebrows at her with amusement.

  “All right, I’ll reach out to you soon,” he told her. “But I think you should get out of here for now. Before anyone starts getting too suspicious.”

  She bid farewell to him and hurried home, her mind burning with the intensity of what had just happened. When she arrived back at her apartment, she dumped her bag on the floor and headed straight through to her bedroom. It was hard to remember the fact that she had shared this with someone else up until a couple of weeks before, since she had only been thinking about one man there the last few days – Cameron, Cameron, Cameron.

  Grabbing her vibrator, she slipped her hand into her panties and clicked the toy into action. Moaning, she pushed her hips against it and found the release that she needed at last.

  Something about giving herself to him so utterly had driven her crazy; she could hardly keep her head straight, remembering what he had made her do. It might have played as innocent to anyone paying attention, but she knew it was more than that. There was something profound about having him control her, having him take her power away – having him own her, like she belonged to him and him alone. She cried out in the quiet of her apartment, her clit aching, and rocked her body on the bed, writhing and gasping as she felt herself getting closer, closer, closer…

  When she came, it was like something was burning through her system, flames eating away at something she should never have been holding on to in the first place. She couldn’t believe she had waited this long to give it up – that control that she had hung on to like it was the most important thing in the world. Her pussy clenched and her skin prickled, and she remembered the tone of his voice when he told her to kneel, firm and sharp and certain.

  As she came back down to Earth, her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself smiling at the ceiling above her. Whatever happened next, she knew it was going to be fun. And she had a feeling that it was going to change everything. And man, was she ready for everything to change – especially at the hands of a man as powerful, as dominant, and as intriguing as Cameron.

  Part 5: Desiring Submission

  "Are you ready?"

  Cameron’s vo
ice cut through Stephanie like a blade, like a whip through the air. How many times had he said those exact words to her? And how many times, time after time, had she shivered with anticipation knowing what was going to come next?

  "Yes, I’m ready," she replied, dipping her head down into the requisite submissive stance that she had grown used to adopting when she was around him. It came to her like second nature now, and she had to admit there was a thrill in knowing that this had been in her the whole time. She couldn’t get enough of being with him, being near him, having him take utter and complete control of her. The thrill of it would never wear thin, she was sure of it. All she needed to do now was find some way to push through the next few hours, and prove that she was ready for anything that he wanted to throw at her.

  It had been about three weeks since they had first come to the agreement in his office, the one revolving around their ongoing involvement as part of Stephanie’s work. She was proud of herself for even having the nerve to ask, and even prouder that she had actually managed to follow through on it after all of this.

  "You did well in the office," he told her, at their first meeting at his apartment. "But that was really just the beginning. You get that, don’t you? There’s a lot more to come."

  "Yes, of course I do," She replied, and she did her best to keep her voice smooth and panic-free. She didn’t want him to think that he had rattled her. The last thing she needed was to let him in on that slight flutter of unsettlement that rose up within her whenever she thought about what she had committed to. It wasn’t that she thought it was a bad idea – far from it. More that her whole world was beginning to shift slightly, and she had to find some way to wrap her head around that. The ground under her feet was moving and the new earth, fresh and soft, wasn’t as firm as what had stood there before. But that was all right. She just had to figure out where she stood in this new place, what it felt like to exist under these new rules.

  "And you said you had done some research of your own," he pointed out. "What kind of stuff interested you? Flicked your switches?”

  "I was thinking about, maybe..." She hesitated before she came out with it. Even after all of this, there was some fear deep inside her, fear that telling the truth about her desires would make her seem sinful in some way. She knew it was ridiculous, born of her last relationship and how vanilla everything had been in bed, but it was hard to shake.

  "You can tell me," he prompted her gently, and she nodded and smiled at him. She was going to need a lot of encouragement and coaxing if she was going to find a way through this, and she was glad she had someone as experienced as him to help her figure herself out.

  "I’ve been looking into impact play," she confessed finally, feeling as though she was telling a priest her sins in some silent, dark cubicle. "And I like the idea of that. I know that it’s probably going to take me some time to get used to doing something like that, but I want to give it a try."

  "What kind of impact play?” he pressed, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows with interest.

  "Uh, what kinds are there?” she replied, laughing nervously. He lifted his fingers and began to tick them off.

  "We could use a cane, whips, floggers, a hand..." he began, and before she could register anything else that came out of his mouth, she found herself drifting off at the thought of him using his open palm to spank her. Maybe she would be bare, all laid out in front of him...she could almost feel his warm flesh against hers, making her count out each blow with a shaky voice as she tried to keep herself together.

  "...and canes," he finished up, and she blinked and returned back to reality.

  "Oh, uh," she stuttered, and she figured that anything that actively turned her on in theory probably wasn’t the best idea in practice. "Whip, maybe? Or a cane?”

  "I think that would be a good place to start." He nodded, and he took a note on the pad he had next to him to remember her preference. She watched his hand darting across the page; he had messy handwriting, but wasn’t that just meant to be an indicator of a brilliantly creative mind or something? She could certainly think of a few creative things he could do to her if he wanted.

  "And I was looking at restraints and stuff," Stephanie continued quickly, distracting herself. In truth, she had actually been thinking about the couple that she had seen when she had been at the party a few weeks before, the woman completely hogtied while the man fucked her from behind. Sure, she wouldn’t be getting that kind of fucking from him, but she still liked the idea of not being able to move, of being completely at his mercy. And, yeah, sure, maybe she liked the idea of him sliding inside of her as well, filling her up with his beautiful cock till she could hardly take anymore.

  "I think we should start this off good and slow," he suggested, and then he got to his feet. "Come on, there’s some stuff I want to show you."

  And with that, he started her whirlwind introduction to the world of BDSM as it related to her. Taking her through to his playroom – the room where she had seen the man and the woman engaging in impact play before – he allowed her to take in all the tools close up. Whips, handcuffs, blindfolds, anything and everything that could cause her pain and pleasure in equal measure. She made her way around the room slowly, taking it all in, trying out this and that – figuring out how tight those cuffs would be if she used them like that, how it would feel to have that whip brought down hard on her behind. There was so much to explore, she almost had no idea where she was meant to start. But by the end of their first excursion into that room, she found a few things that she could imagine using on herself. She handed them over to him, and he smiled, seemingly pleased with her choices.

  "I think we can start with these," he agreed, and she felt that fire pick up, burning deep in her body once more. The things she would have done to him if she got the chance...

  Their first actual session was discussed far in advance, via emails and conversations and late-night phone calls until Cameron was satisfied that they had every deal threshed out. They had a safeword, hard limits, and a list of everything that she knew she really wanted to try while she was with him. She prepared for her next trip to his apartment with a roiling nervousness in her head, but a thumping desire in her heart. She was ready for this. Her very first BDSM play scene. She had never been so uneasy and so excited at the same time.

  She addressed him as “Sir,” as he had commanded from her, from the moment she buzzed on his door to the end of the session. He led her straight to his playroom, and she noticed that he was clean-shaven for a change; it suited him, made him look sharper and more angular than he normally did. It was as though he had taken on a whole new personality. She liked it.

  "On your knees," he ordered as soon as she made her way into the playroom, and she did as she was told at once. It was as though some deep force inside her was compelling it out of her, compelling her to obey his every order without question. The floor was hard beneath her, but she didn’t mind. In fact, the pain was already beginning to morph into pleasure. Everything they had done up until that point had been purely in the theoretical territory, mental mind-games, but now it was becoming suddenly and extremely physical. She could hardly wait. Her breath was coming fast as she felt his hands slide down her arms and pull her wrists together roughly, and then clip a pair of handcuffs over them. They were loose enough so as to be comfortable, but tight enough for her to be sure that he wasn’t messing around or going easy on her because it was her first time.

  "Hold your hands out," he ordered her, and she did as she was told, flexing her palms to straightness so they were completely exposed. Her eyes were closed, and she was braced for something – what, she wasn’t sure. Pain, maybe? She remembered the tools that she had picked out before and felt a sudden shudder of nervousness at the thought of any of them being used on her.

  She listened as he moved around her, as a box clicked open and he picked something out. Something about keep her eyes shut had the anticipation rolling in her ches
t. She wanted this. She needed this. After all this waiting....

  "Ah!” she cried out, as she suddenly felt the sharp slap of a whip against her open palms. It was a long, thin implement, and it left a streak of red-hot pain over her hands that faded to a dull burn swiftly. Catching her breath, the endorphins exploded in her brain.

  "What do you say?” he commanded her softly. She racked her brain, trying to remember all the rules he had put in place for her, all the agreements he had made.