She had spent the day cleaning the apartment and kept an eye on the clock so that she knew when he would be getting home. He wasn’t much for lingerie or fancy decorations – no, he liked her naked, completely and utterly naked, waiting for him in the playroom. And that was just what she was going to give him.
She undressed in front of the mirror, taking the chance to get a look at her body – it was covered in welts and marks from the beatings he had given her, but she liked that. It was a thrill, knowing that she had driven him to that point, the point where he couldn’t hold back a moment longer. She smoothed her fingers absently over the shape of the bruise that the cuffs had left on her ankle the last time they had hooked up. Thin and delicate, like a wedding ring.
She retreated to the playroom and sank to her knees, letting the cool sensation of the floor beneath her skin soothe her. She felt safe there, she always had. Comfortable. Like she belonged. She could still remember the first time she had seen this place, when they had been at that party, with another couple fooling around and playing together. Well, now, it belonged to them and them alone. For the gifts they gave one another, of dominance and submission.
Her eyes closed and her face turned towards the floor, she waited. And it wasn’t long before she heard the apartment door open; he didn’t call for her. Cameron knew that if she wasn’t there to greet him at the door, she was waiting and ready to play.
She listened to his footsteps echoing through the apartment towards her, and her heart pounded in her chest in time with the clicks on the floor. The door opened, and she kept her eyes trained downwards.
"Stephanie," he greeted her quietly, closing the door behind him. He was dressed in a suit, and the sheer power of his outfit compared to her nudity made her shiver.
"Sir," she replied.
"Look at me."
She looked up at him, and their gazes met. He took off his jacket, and she got to her feet to take it for him. These small acts of service, even when they had nothing to do with sex, were some of the hottest moments for her – that assumption that she would just step up and do as she was told, no matter what. She quickly hung it up on one of the hooks on the wall; he had promised to dangle her from one of them soon, but she knew that wasn’t what she wanted that day. No, she wanted something classic. Something old school.
He grasped her chin and stared deep into her eyes, like he was trying to read what she wanted. A smile curled up his lips, and she knew at once that he understood what she needed from him.
"Bend over the horse," he ordered, and she smiled to herself. She could always trust him to get it.
She did as she was told, sinking downwards and pressing her weight into the small leather stand that he had purchased for her as a gift a few months before. She had loved it from the moment she set eyes on it – the leather was deep red, matching perfectly with the rest of the room, and the way it pushed her ass upwards made it easier for him to use his many implements of torture upon her.
"Yes, good girl," he murmured, and he reached down and ran his hand over her bare back. She moaned softly. She was already wet, having waited all day for this moment. He clicked open the chest that sat behind her, and she shivered with excitement as he dipped his hand inside and pulled out her favorite weapon of choice.
He ran it over her rear end first, letting her know that he had selected the cruelest toy in their arsenal. It was a paddle, a flat, hard wooden paddle, the kind that stained her whole ass with a red hue whenever he used it on her. It was the most delicious kind of pain, the most delightful discomfort, the warmth of it radiating out from between her legs to consume her whole body at once.
And then, he struck her – once on each cheek, making her jump. The first time was always a shock. She liked that it still came as a surprise, the way the pain fluttered through her system. She never wanted to get used to being like this, never wanted to get used to having him use her like this. She would never take this for granted, especially when she had gone so long refusing to even accept that this side of her existed.
"Thank you, Sir," she breathed. "May I have another?”
He obliged at once, this time striking with a little more force and potency. She flinched, then smiled to herself, biting her lip. She knew that it drove him crazy when she smiled. He wanted to be in charge, wanted her to suffer, and her rejection of that didn’t tend to go down too well.
"Thank you, Sir," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Ask me for more," he ordered her.
"Harder, please, Sir," she replied, twisting around to look at him. His eyes were dark with want for her, just the way she liked them. He obliged, striking her once, twice, three times, sending shockwaves through her body. He knew just what he was doing to her. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost to the feeling, to the sweet sensation of his paddle on her ass. It would be sore to sit down the next day, but that would just serve as a reminder of the abject and heartfelt cruelty he had inflicted on her in the playroom.
When he came to a halt, he was breathing hard, and took a moment to catch his breath. He placed the paddle down next to her, and slipped his hand roughly between her thighs. His fingers grazed over her wetness and she groaned – she needed to feel his cock inside of her, and she needed to feel it now.
"You’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you?" he murmured, dipping his fingers against her slit and tracing over the wetness that waited there.
"Yes, Sir," she breathed, and he pushed two fingers inside of her, like he was rewarding her for her obedience.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked, as though it was even a question. But he just wanted to hear the words come out of her mouth.
"Yes, Sir...please, Sir..."
He grabbed her and shifted her around on the horse, so that she was propped up on top of it; he pushed her legs apart roughly and moved between them. Grabbing her hair, he pulled it back so that he could kiss her properly, burying his tongue into her mouth like he had been waiting all day for this very moment. And then, he unzipped his pants and took his cock in his hand and pushed into her.
"Ah!” she cried out, as his impressive cock split her open once again. She would never get tired of this, of the feeling it gave her when he was taking her – after waiting so long to be with him, every time felt like the first. The thrill was still fresh, the rush of blood and desire still as intense as it had ever been.
He sank his fingers into her hips and pulled her down on towards him. She gazed into his eyes with nothing short of pure adoration as he took her, her ass still throbbing from the beating he had just given her. He skimmed his fingers over the redness he had left. It would bruise soon, just the way she liked it.
"Look at me," he ordered, and she focused her attention on him; while she might have been facing his direction, she had a habit of phasing out into the pleasure when he was fucking her, and she needed to remind herself to keep present with him.
His eyes were intent, searching her face for any hint of a reaction. He reached up and touched her mouth, and she parted her lips, allowing him to push his fingers inside. She ran her tongue around his skin, tasting the hint of her own wetness on him, the two of them together. A furrow appeared in his brow, letting her know that she was doing the right thing. She knew that her sheer obedience was enough alone to get him off, and it felt like she was getting better and better at it every day. She knew the ins and outs of what turned him on, all the little details of what he needed from her, the same way that he had learned all of hers. This man, this man knew more about her than anyone had in her life before. She had poured herself into him in a way that nobody had ever let her, and she knew, she knew-
"I love you," she gasped as he withdrew his fingers from her mouth. She had never said it to him before – in some ways, she had never felt like she needed to. She knew that he understood and that he felt the same way, and there was some part of her brain that feared bringing love into it would shift the power
of their chemistry, strip away some of the passion.
But then he looked back at her, slowing his thrusts to near stillness, and her heart melted. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips, and then pulled back.
"I love you too," he replied, and she wrapped her arms around him and clung on to him tight, pulling him deeper and deeper inside of her. Sinking her nails into his back, she kissed his throat, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath her lips. She couldn’t believe she had just said that, and she couldn’t believe that he had said it right back, without so much as a pause or second thought. But, more than anything, she was surprised that the admittance had just intensified the desire she felt with him. She knew it was more than just physical, more than just kink. They loved each other. Mind, body, soul – they belonged to one another.
When she came, it ran deeper than anything she had ever felt before in her life. Like someone was sending nuclear shockwaves through her entire body. She tried to make a noise, to express her pleasure, but the power of speech had escaped her. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, knowing that she would earn punishment for her roughness, but not caring one little bit. Her pussy clenched around his dick over and over again, as though she was trying to draw him into her. Blood pulsed loudly in her ears, filling her head with the rushing sound of her release. Wrapping her ankles around his back, she pulled him in helplessly, desperate for more, more, more. She would never get enough of him, not as long as she lived, she was certain of it.
"Fuck," he growled against her ear as he reached his own release buried deep inside her. His cock pulsed, filling her full of his seed, and his hands traveled all over her body like he wanted to remind himself that she belonged to him and him alone. He turned his head to her and kissed her again, soft, tender, his breath sweet where it found her lips.
"I love you," he breathed again, the words more fervent than they had been before. She repeated them back to him, feeling like they came with the pulse of her heartbeat – I love you, I love you, I love you. I
When he slowly drew himself out of her, she knew that she was a different person than when they had started. She had given over so much to him, and now the final boundary that had existed had vanished – they had confessed their love for one another at last. She flopped back on the horse, catching her breath, gazing at the ceiling. It suddenly felt infinite, like it went on forever and a minute more.
"You okay?” he asked softly, and she nodded. He scooped her off the horse and into his arms in one easy motion, his hands strong and sure.
"I think we need to get you cleaned up," he murmured. "And take care of those bruises."
"You know I don’t mind them," she replied, snuggling into him. The aftercare was one of her favorite parts of their games together.
"Yes, but it’s my job to look after you even outside of that room," he reminded her.
"Always?” she asked, looking up at him. And he smiled at her, planting a kiss on her temple.
"Always," he replied. And she knew he meant it. That he always would.
Also by Alexandra Noir
Menage BDSM Stories 2: An Arranged Marriage
"Zolita!" Her name spoken with a Hungarian accent stopped all questions. Kay’s hand raised, palm toward her. “Time for answers will come later. Now, I must help you bathe. Dr. Westberg is expecting you, so we have to hurry.”
Always about him! Zoe mentally grumbled and began to silently strip. At least he had provided her with an assistant, and one obviously from her country. She started to step into the water and froze at the foreign fragrance. “Is that—”
“Scented according to his instructions. Your perfume has been removed from the suite and replaced with this,” the assistant informed her.
Zoe sighed and stepped into the bath. She’d loved that perfume and had barely dabbed any on her since arriving here.
“What other instructions were you given about me?” she asked Kay.
“To have you ready to see him and that you’ll be attending a special event.” Kay had already picked up the bath poof and was preparing to wash her, but Zoe grabbed her wrist.
“An…event?!” Maybe…just maybe, she’d be going to a gala with women in long gowns and sparkling jewelry. “Where? What kind?”
“The event will be here. Lean forward so I can wash your back,” Kay said, prying Zoe's fingers from her wrist, before adding, “You will be told by Ash, who listens to Dr. Westberg, about what to do and when.” More fragrant gel was squeezed onto the poof and then dragged over her breasts, the course material teasing her nipples and sending sparks downward.
“I will attend with Ash? But without leaving here?”
“It's your consummation ceremony. You will be submitting yourself sexually to Ash while your husband watches,” Kay corrected. Zoe’s eyes widened on the word consummation and again at sexually. Kay further explained, “There are rules you must remember like only speak when Ash gives his permission. You must call him Sir in the playroom.” She tapped Zoe’s shoulder and handed her the poof. “Wash thoroughly between your legs.”
“I’m having sex with Ash while Randall watches?!” Thinking of having that blonde god’s full lips on her skin and his blue eyes looking at her naked flesh sent a shiver through her. But her hand froze halfway down her stomach at the thought of her stern husband, the infamous heart surgeon and completely unreadable man, in the same room.
“These are Dr. Westberg’s wishes. Ash is a very good and caring Dom who will treat you well.” Her gaze fell to the water as she repeated, “Wash yourself.”
Zoe did as told while Kay turned the handheld shower spray on her long dark hair. “Mason will join you in the future, but not tonight. When he does, you will call him Master. Do not forget or Mason will punish you.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I was trained by them as their last sub,” Kay admitted. “My sole purpose has always been to assist you.”
Zoe quietly wondered if other arranged marriages were similar, as Kay rinsed shampoo from her hair. She finally asked, “How does it work?”
“They find out what pleases you, and then make you crave whatever does not please you.” Conditioner of the same scent was combed through her hair as Kay continued, “Never touch Dr. Westberg, or he will have Mason punish you severely.”
“Punish me? How?”
Find out how by clicking here!
BDSM Bedtime Stories 2: A Dom in Shining Armor
Liz stood from her bar stool and stretched. She'd put off doing inventory long enough. Her software should handle the inventory, but the only internet provider in the small town of Delphos, Ohio wasn't exactly business worthy even with her expensive router.
On her way past a rack of sexy lingerie, she plucked a fishnet bodysuit from the row of bras and replaced it with the rest of the fishnet line. Earlier, three rambunctious young women had invaded her sex shop, Sexolicious, and bought almost three hundred dollars worth of lingerie. They worked for a strip club in Lima so Liz always gave them a discount. She wished they'd return the favor and put her product back where it belonged.
Holding one of their more popular dildos, she tucked the toy under her arm so she could straighten a row of bachelorette party favors. Forgetting she still had the toy, she entered the break room. The slender boxed toy clattered to the floor when she reached for her cup.
"Shit!" She picked it up and studied the box for any damage. The corner was crumpled. "Great!" She quickly unboxed it and reached into the cabinet, underneath her coffee pot, for a box. The last thing she needed was for an eagle-eyed customer to accuse her of faulty merchandise. She'd dealt with all sorts of stereotypes because of her Romanian heritage, so she was always alert. All she needed was someone to scream discount, and then they'd go online to call out her store as lacking quality goods. She'd just opened the box to repackage it when she heard the store's entrance jingle.
Dominance and Submission - Write Away, Sir Page 13
