Dominance and Submission - Write Away, Sir

by Alexandra Noir

  "You ready?”

  Part 6: Taking What’s His

  Stephanie followed Cameron over the threshold of the large archway that led to the enormous hall that was already packed full of people. Her eyes were pinned to the ground, and she was glad that her submission allowed her to keep her attention focused on something other than the pummeling nervousness that was leaping through her body.

  Cameron had been here before – he had visited plenty of parties like this one, and he knew what he was doing. She kept reminding herself of that, of the fact that he was practiced in this art of a thrilling power exchange. It made her feel a little safer, but it was still as though she had marched into the middle of something she would never be able to fully extricate herself from. But then, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to.

  "Are you doing all right?” Cameron asked, turning to glance over his shoulder. Her eyes were locked on the ground, and she knew that they had to stay there, but she was grateful for the fact that he was even checking in with her. He was a caring dominant, more than she deserved. Or maybe that was just her submissive side talking. She nodded at the ground, and, when he looked away, stole a glance around the room to take in everything that was going on.

  She had attended one of these parties before, when she had visited at Cameron’s apartment for her first foray into the world of BDSM, but back then she had only been observing from the sidelines. While she was in this place, she didn’t want to pass up the chance to play a little with voyeurism, see how she felt submitting to him under the watchful gaze of so many people.

  The place was lavishly done up, packed with a couple of hundred people, many of whom were dressed in fetish gear – latex suits, collars, leashes, with some women walking around completely naked with their eyes trained on the floor. She was glad, at least, that she was still allowed to wear at least a little bit in front of Cameron, though if he instituted a rule that ordered her to be utterly naked every second she spent around him...yeah, she could have lived with that. She could easily have lived with that.

  There were a few platforms set up that were set up around the room, upon which a number of people were...performing? Is that what it was called? Couples and small groups were acting out scenes of various types up on those platforms, taking time to explore each other – some of them had whips and paddles, some of them had chains and ties, and others were simply using words to assert their dominance. She gazed, slightly open-mouthed, at a woman standing above a line of men on all fours before her, staring down at them with a sureness that kept them in their place. She wondered if she would ever have that kind of power over anyone. She would have loved to think, one day, that she would be able to lay claim to that astonishing control, to have men literally falling at her feet.

  It was strange – while nobody in the room was acting on any obviously sexual impulse, the room was heavy with it. Anticipation, almost, as though everyone was engaging in this incredibly erotic foreplay at the same time. And now, she was a part of it. And she wanted to be. She wanted to be wrapped up in this world, in this room, with these people – none of them knew the complex dynamic that was going on with her and her dominant, that she had only just joined this BDSM scene. To them, she was just another kindred spirit, exploring the densely erotic thrill of power and submission.

  "There’s strictly no sexual contact here," Cameron reminded her quietly, probably noticing the heat beginning to come off her in waves. She nodded, smiled, and bit her lip.

  "I can see that," she replied. In fact, she knew that there was no sex involved in their BDSM in general, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t find this hot. She loved the fact that this gorgeous, powerful man saw fit to have her on his arm at an event like this – or at his feet, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Every now and then, she would find herself burning for him, wanting to give him the ultimate control over her, but she did her best to keep it down. They had agreed on keeping it platonic - as platonic as it could be, given what they were doing – and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize what they had.

  "What do you want to do?” he asked her softly, and he reached out to take her hand; the gesture was almost tender, and it caught her off-guard.

  "I, uh..." she replied, or tried to, looking around the room and trying to come up with something convincing. Truth was, there was so much that she wanted to try, she didn’t even know where to start. And then her eyes fell on something she recognized – a Saint Andrew’s cross. It was strapped to a wall above one of the platforms, and she pointed to it.

  "That," she replied, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

  "You want to do that? Here? In front of everyone?”

  "Yes," she replied certainly. She couldn’t believe she was doing this; she had never in a million years thought about displaying herself like that before. But, in that instant, she knew she wanted to feel the eyes of everyone on her. She wanted them to see her, wanted them to see her with him. Wanted to prove, to Cameron, to herself, to everyone there, that she was capable of this. She could give him everything she needed.

  He led her towards the platform, which had just been vacated by the last people who’d been using it. He clasped her hand and led her up the steps, and a few people crowded around to watch them. Stephanie cast her eye nervously over everyone before her, hoping she wasn’t going to let them down.

  "Relax," Cameron ordered her, and she knew it wasn’t up for debate. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath, glad that he was here with her. He wouldn’t let her get hurt or make a fool of herself. She just had to let his words sweep through her, follow his commands, and everything would be fine.

  "Yes, Sir," she replied, and he guided her back into the cross. She was reminded of the first time he had put her in one of these; when she was sure that he had lost a little of his carefully-cultivated control over her. Maybe there was something at the back of her mind that hoped that same thing would happen again, here, far from home and the real life that kept them from giving in to their desire...

  He gently lifted her feet out of her heels and into the bottom clasps of the cross, and she bit her lip and looked down at the crowd around her; now that she was a little higher up, she could see the entire room. It was heaving with people, gilded and gold and looking like they had rolled out of the very upper echelons of a society she could barely imagine. So many eyes were on her, and yet she felt completely safe. As long as she could feel his hands brushing across her body, silently guiding her in the right direction, telling what to do and how to do it, nothing could throw her off her game.

  They were practiced in their dynamic now, and he spread her entire body out wide, so that her short dress began to ride up her thighs. Her pussy was aching, and she knew that if her skirt rolled up any further she would expose her soaking wet panties. The thought of that thrilled her, of the whole room knowing her shame as she lay there, unable to do anything about it.

  The locks were a little tighter on her wrists that they had been in his room back at his apartment, but she could take it. In fact, the pain was exhilarating, and she wanted more, more, more – she knew that he wouldn’t push her any further than he’d already pushed, but she was already craving a depth of pain that she had never felt before. She wanted her skin to split, her muscles to ache, her bones to groan. And she wanted to do it all for him.

  "How do you feel?” he asked her, once the ties were secure over her body. She closed her eyes and tried to wrap her head around this; never in a million years did she think that she would be here, giving herself to him, giving her power over to a man and inviting what felt like the whole world to watch. He reached out and caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. She bit her lip and gazed at him.

  "Answer me," he ordered. She adored him most when he was like this – when he was taking control of her for her own good, to get what he needed to know from her.

  "It feels good, Sir," she replied, and he smiled, that shark
-like grin that never quite seemed to reach his eyes.

  "Tell them," he ordered, and he stepped aside. Her eyes widened.

  "Sir?”

  "Tell them what you told me," he demanded, and she took a deep, shaky breath. This wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she would do it, for him.

  "It feels good, Sir," she repeated again, raising her voice a little bit. He shook his head.

  "Tell them that you like this," he ordered her, and she said it again, louder.

  "Again," he commanded.

  "It feels good, Sir," she finally gasped, the words practically tearing out of her lungs, cutting through the air around her. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, and she couldn’t believe she was doing this. And she couldn’t believe how good it felt. She had never been this helpless in her life, at the mercy of so many people – not just Cameron, but the prying eyes of everyone who was watching them. She cast her gaze over the crowd before her and inhaled a shaky breath. Some were watching her with envy, some with pity, some with open desire. Being the focus of so much emotion was a little overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

  He walked slowly around her, watching her, taking her in, and she was sure that he wanted her – that look was in his eyes again, along with something else, too. Something like pride? As though he was proud to be seen with her, proud that his submissive was doing so well with such little training. She felt as though she had been made for this, waiting for him to draw out this side of her. She already adored it.

  Suddenly, he reached up and unbuckled her; she let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as he freed her from her restraints.

  "What are you doing, Sir?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  "I think we need to get out of here," he replied, and her eyes widened.

  "What are you talking about, Sir?”

  "I’ll explain when we go back to the room," he replied, and he lifted her down from the cross, his arm around her waist as he guided her gently back to the ground. The crowd began to disperse, losing interesting in the scene now that they had broken her out of the cross.

  He grasped her hand and quickly marched out of the hall, and Stephanie hurried to keep up, her heart pounding. Had she done something wrong? Or had he, like her, felt things shift into something more intense, something that broke the rules of the contract that they had so carefully put together?

  They made it back to the room, and he closed the door behind her.

  "What’s happening, Sir?" she asked, and he shook his head, waving his hands.

  "No, no, no Sir," he replied, and she frowned.

  "What’s going on, Cameron?”

  He sighed and leaned against the door.

  "Stephanie, I have to admit something to you," he replied, shaking his head. "And I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think we need to stop this."

  "What are you talking about?” she exclaimed, and it felt like her heart was going to drop out of her chest.

  "I’m saying that we need to stop this before it goes any further," he confessed. "I feel like...I don’t know how much longer I can be around you without wanting something more."

  "Something more?" she prompted him, and he shook his head.

  "I’m attracted to you, all right?" he told her, a twinge of anger to his voice, as though he couldn’t even believe he was coming out with it. "I’ve never done this BDSM thing without a sexual relationship, and we agreed that we weren’t going to have that," he continued, speaking fast, like he was worried he might lose his nerve and fail at the last moment. "And I don’t want to push you into anything that you’re not comfortable with, or that could jeopardize your work..."

  He trailed off, and he looked up at her. She could hardly take in what he was saying. Because it confirmed everything that she had felt for him, everything she had felt between them. But he was saying he wanted to back off. It was too much for him to carry this on without taking things further – but all that meant to her was that they needed to accept where the relationship was going and take her submission to the next level.

  And she knew exactly what she needed to do to assure him of that point. She stood there before him, staring into his eyes, and then slowly, slowly sank to her knees before him.

  "Stephanie, what are you doing?” he demanded, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

  "I want that too, Sir," she explained. "I want you to...I want you to use me. Any way you see fit. Any way that I can please you, I’ll do it."

  He stared at her, as though trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke.

  "Stephanie, we work together," he reminded her, but his voice had dropped a little, like he wasn’t convincing himself.

  "But we have something here," she countered. "I know we do. I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone else, never in my life, and I want...I want to see what happens when we take it to the next level."

  He fell silent, narrowing his eyes at her, as though he was trying to figure out exactly how bad an idea this was.

  "You’re sure about this," he replied, and it wasn’t a question. She nodded.

  "I have to know what it’s like," she murmured. "To give myself to you. Completely."

  And with that, she felt something shift inside of him. Something changed in the air around them, and she knew nothing was going to be the same.

  "Don’t move," he ordered her, and she did as she was told, not moving a muscle. He slowly began to make his way around her, walking behind her; he reached out, briefly, and skimmed his fingers over the back of her neck. She groaned quietly, the touch suddenly so full of promise that she could hardly take it. When he arrived in front of her again, his cock was hard beneath his pants, and she ached to reach out and touch it. But she had waited long enough – she didn’t mind holding out a little longer to get what she had been craving for so long.

  "Hands behind your back," he told her, and she clasped her fingers behind her at once. She couldn’t believe this was happening; she had no idea what she had coming to her, but she knew that he understood her limits. Their safeword still stood, and she knew that she wasn’t in any danger with him. This was a man who had taken time to learn the intricacies of her desires and her wants and her needs before he had so much as kissed her. She could trust him.

  He unzipped his fly slowly and drew his cock into his hand. She gasped when she laid eyes on it for the first time; it was beautiful, thick and long and impressive, bigger than anything she had ever seen in person before. She looked up at him, stealing a glance at his gorgeous face, and found it written with an intense desire. The same desire she had seen on him when he had restrained her to that cross the first time. She had been right about their chemistry then, and she was right about it now, and she wasn’t going to fight it any longer.

  He placed a hand on the back of her head and guided it towards him.

  "Open your mouth."

  She parted her lips at once, and he slipped his cock in between and into her mouth. He tasted so good – somehow, she had known what he was going to taste like before she’d had him in her mouth, and it was just like this. The way he smelled, masculine and classic and strong. He took his time, letting her get used to the feeling of his erection filling her mouth, and she simply gazed up at him. This was her master, this was her Sir, this was her dominant, and he was finally gifting her the one thing that she had been craving for so long.

  He began to slowly thrust his cock into her mouth, taking his time and letting her get used to the sensation of his erection filling her up. She moaned, softly, and kept her hands clasped tightly behind her back. She wanted to reach out and touch him, caress him, feel him. But he would let her when the time was right, and she knew that time wasn’t quite yet.

  She worked her tongue along the underside of his cock as he pushed further and further into her mouth. She had always gagged before when previous partners had tried to get her to deep throat, but she found it easy when sh
e was with him. It was as though her body had become nothing more than a receptacle for him to use, whatever he wanted her to be. Her very being felt malleable, as though there was nothing that he could have asked of her that she wouldn’t have been able to pull off.