Convincing Leah (Surrender Book 9)

by Becca Jameson

  I think of it like a hired job. If I had a lawn, I would pay someone to mow it so I wouldn’t have to. If I need a plumber, I don’t dig around under the sink myself. I hire a plumber. Granted, I obviously don’t pay anyone at the club to spank me. But I feel like I hire them to help me slide into subspace. Impact play soothes me. It washes away my stress. Plus, there’s the bonus of an orgasm.

  Not that I always orgasm when I play. It’s not mandatory. I don’t do it with Doms I’m not comfortable with. I would never negotiate it into a scene with a stranger. But once I get to know and trust someone, I like to include that benefit. It’s the entire package in my head.

  Writing sometimes stresses me out. I get frustrated dealing with characters who won’t listen to me or scenes that won’t flush themselves out. Plus, there’s the administrative side of things. I’m not fond of the accounting and spreadsheets and formatting and social media. I do those things because they’re necessary, but those days leave me filled with anxiety.

  That’s where impact play comes in. A means to an end. A Dom spanks me, my stress dissolves, maybe I get sexual release too, and boom, I’m ready to start fresh.

  Does that make me submissive? Yes and no. It makes me complicated.

  Today, I’m stressed mostly because I’ve made a new arrangement with Craig. We’ve never used a private room. We’ve never had sex. I’ve taken my time even suggesting we move to this new level. I hope I’m not making a mistake.

  Two hands land on my shoulders and soft lips graze my ear, making me shudder and smile at the same time. I’m used to Craig sneaking up on me like this. He does so almost every time I see him. I’m not sure how he manages to ease into the room without my noticing, but I enjoy the way he greets me.

  “Hey,” he breathes into my ear. “You look deep in thought. You okay?”

  I twist my head around to meet his gaze. “Yep.”

  He rubs his hands up and down my bare arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface. “I’m surprised to find you intently watching such harsh impact play tonight. You don’t usually gravitate toward a whip.”

  I flinch. The honest truth is that I’ve been standing here for a while and I didn’t even notice the change from the flogging I was watching to this new couple using a whip.

  My face flushes as I turn toward Craig and admit the truth. “I didn’t notice.”

  He lifts a brow. “Wow. You are anxious tonight.” He clasps my biceps. “Nothing has to happen between us, Leah. If you’re having second thoughts, we don’t even have to use the private room. I don’t want you to feel stressed about taking things between us to another level. It shouldn’t be that way.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not that. Not really. It’s more like I was feeling introspective. Pondering my preferences and what makes me tick.” I smile at him, hoping he will believe me.

  He quirks up one corner of his mouth. “Did you solve any mysteries?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. I’m still me.”

  “We can have our room now if you want.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He slides his hands down my arms and threads the fingers of one hand with mine before leading me from the main room and down the hall toward the private rooms.

  When we pass the nursery, I see Eve playing a board game with several other littles. Since she’s little all the time when she’s at home, she doesn’t need the club as a location to grab two hours with her Daddy. Colton is her Daddy all the time. Their time at the club is mostly spent separate from each other. Eve gets to enjoy the company of other littles playing and interacting in a way she can’t at home.

  Colton, on the other hand, is new to the fetish community. He’s an amazing Daddy and has taken on the role she needs faster than anyone could have imagined, but he benefits from watching and learning from others. It’s a win-win for the two of them.

  My mind has wandered again. I’m drawing in shallow breaths as Craig opens the door to our designated room. He locks it before turning toward me and sliding his hands up and down my arms. “Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart.”

  I like it when he calls me that. He probably doesn’t know it, but it’s sort of a trigger word that brings me into the right headspace. Not in a bad way. “Yes, Sir,” I respond and do as I’m told. We’ve entered our space, which means it’s time for me to hand the reins to him.

  “Good girl. Do it again.”

  I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It calms me.

  He slides one hand to my face and cups my cheek, his thumb grazing over my bottom lip. This is the most intimate we’ve ever been. We don’t usually stand this close facing each other or cross into this level of familiarity before we scene.

  “I’d like to kiss you before we start if that’s okay.”

  I lick my lips, my tongue inadvertently stroking his thumb. “Yes, Sir.” Yikes. I’m in uncharted territory. I feel a shift in the air. I hadn’t thought about the fact that having sex with Craig would be any different than having sex with any other Dom. It is.

  In the past when I’ve had sex at the club, it was to scratch an itch. For both of us. An obvious means to an end. When I’ve gotten comfortable with a Dom to move from spanking to orgasms, I logically move from there to trusting them enough to have sex with me. It’s not rocket science.

  But this is different. This is…intimate. I’ve never started a scene by kissing. I’ve never kissed a man at the club.

  Craig takes his time, watching me closely as he angles his head to one side and brings his lips to mine. He holds my face still, directing me. Guiding me.

  When his lips brush against mine for the first time, my entire body responds. I lean into him without permission from my brain. My hands come to his waist and then spread to his back. My breasts feel larger, fuller, swollen. They are threatening to spill out of my corset.

  I’m not opposed to being nude in the club. I’ve been spanked naked before, but not with Craig. He’s never removed my corset or whatever else I’ve worn over my chest.

  Damn, his lips are amazing. The man can kiss. My heart is racing as he slides his tongue into my mouth and strokes my tongue against his. His free hand slides up my waist until his thumb grazes the underside of my breast. That small gesture makes me arch into him. A moan escapes my lips unbidden.

  I’m in over my head. We’re crossing so many lines here. Not physical ones. Emotional ones. I should have known this might happen. Been more mentally prepared. I mean, I’ve been stressed for the last few days worrying about how it might be with him. Fearing this exact problem. That our obvious chemistry would in fact extend to the proverbial bedroom.

  It’s much more than that. This is explosive. I’m in so much trouble.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, he stares at me smiling. “Well, that backfired.”

  I flinch.

  He chuckles. “I just mean I had hoped to help you relax. That didn’t work.”

  I shake my head. “No. It didn’t.”

  “But not in a bad way, right?”

  “No, Sir,” I admit. In a delicious way that makes me want him to skip the spanking and fuck me already, but I won’t admit that out loud. “Are we treading into dangerous territory?” I suggest instead. It’s the safe thing to say. Responsible.

  “I don’t know.” At least he’s honest. “We’re just going to do a scene like we’ve done many times in the past. I don’t want you to think about adding anything to it. Just relax. If you’re feeling it, we can go ahead and take the next step. If you’re not, we won’t.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “I’d prefer to stick with my hand as our chosen impact implement tonight if that’s okay with you. I’d rather not complicate things by using a toy we’re less comfortable with.”

  “Okay.” I can’t seem to come up with more words, and they aren’t really needed. He’s spelled it all out perfectly. I’m glad one of us can communicate verbally.

  He takes my hand and leads me to the elaborate spanking be
nch in the middle of the room. This particular room is a deep burgundy, including the vinyl of the bench.

  Craig stops at the end of the bench, holds my hips steady, and leans back to let his gaze roam up my frame from my feet to my head. “Love the new outfit. It’s very sexy. My cock got hard the moment I spotted you across the room when I arrived.”

  I shiver at his tone and the fact that he’s gone out of his way to point out how much he appreciates my effort. “Thank you, Sir.” Those words feel inadequate and awkward after the second part of his admission, but I secretly love that I affect him like that. Who wouldn’t?

  “You can wear this again when we do a public scene. It will make every man in the room jealous of my hands on you, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather take it off tonight.”

  Another shudder. I’m out of my element. I don’t submit to other people the way I’m submitting to Craig. I don’t usually slide into this headspace before we’ve really started. Granted, we started this scene the moment his hands landed on my shoulders in the main room, and I fell under his spell the second his lips brushed against mine.

  He has a power over me that I can’t explain.

  “Leah, sweetheart, may I remove this sexy outfit?”

  I realize I haven’t responded. “Yes, Sir.”

  His hands come to the back of my skirt and he eases the zipper down, taking his time, keeping things slow and easy. His gaze doesn’t leave mine until he needs to bend down to pull the skirt down my thighs and off me.

  I set my hands on his shoulders and lift my feet one at a time.

  When he stands, he does so while dragging his palms up my inner legs from my ankles to my thighs.

  I purse my lips to avoid moaning. I’m so aroused. This level of horniness usually occurs close to the end of a scene. Oh, who am I kidding? This level of arousal doesn’t occur with anyone at any time.

  Craig slides his hands up my torso next. He holds my gaze again, his expression reverent. Serious. “I’ve seen your sexy rear many times. Handled it too, but I’ve only seen your breasts one time before, and they weren’t mine to touch that night.”

  I remember the night. Craig has mentioned it several times. The first night he came to the club. The first time he saw me perform. I was with another member, Stephen. I was doing a scene for Colton’s benefit. I hadn’t known Craig was watching, nor had I ever seen him before.

  I made an impression on Craig that night, and he made it his mission to seek me out after that.

  The way he says mine makes me sway a bit. I’m mostly unnerved by the fact that I don’t mind. I want to be his. I know he doesn’t mean it in the sense that I belong to him in any permanent way. He just means that he wasn’t the man dominating me that night.

  “Take it off, please, Sir,” I encourage, realizing as soon as the words leave my mouth that maybe I’m stepping over the line as a submissive.

  He smiles though before rounding behind me and lowering the zipper that holds the corset in place. More goosebumps rise all over my torso as he lowers the stiff material away from my body.

  He sets the corset on top of my skirt but stays behind me. In fact, he flattens himself to my back, pulling me against his chest. His palms flatten on my stomach, his fingers teasing my skin, grazing under my breasts again.

  I’m so horny that my knees are wobbly. He’s fully clothed. I’m naked. I wasn’t even wearing a thong under my skirt. Now, I have on nothing but strappy silver heels.

  Craig surprises me when he guides me to the end of the bench and then lifts me off my feet and lowers me onto my stomach over the padded top.

  I purse my lips to keep from moaning. My inclination is to forgo the spanking and beg him to fuck me. Wetness is running between my thighs. My small breasts feel heavy. My nipples aren’t usually anything to write home about, but tonight they’re sharp points.

  I often grow increasingly aware of my breasts during a scene, especially when I’m on all-fours like this with them hanging. I enjoy nipple play, so Doms in the past have usually stroked them either after stripping me naked or by reaching under the edge of my corset.

  Craig hasn’t touched them yet, and once again I purse my lips to avoid begging. I want this like never before.

  Craig strokes my skin everywhere but where I most crave his touch. His fingers smooth up and down my back and then my thighs and arms. His voice is husky when he speaks. “Do you mind if I restrain you tonight, Leah?”

  “No, Sir.” He has restrained me in the past. I enjoy it. With some Doms, I’m comfortable enough to let them bind me. With others, I’m not. With Craig, hell yes.

  The moment he cuffs my wrists in a Velcro enclosure and then attaches it out of reach below the padded armrest, I slide into a deeper level of submission that increases as he adds my other wrist and then my ankles.

  I’m panting as I close my eyes and go into my head. I’m on all-fours, suspended above the floor. My knees and forearms are resting on padded sections of the bench. The large section rests under my torso, but it’s narrow enough at my chest that my breasts are free.

  “Your skin is so soft,” Craig praises as his fingers drive me bananas again. Eventually, he stops circling me and stands at my side, his palm on my butt. “Safeword, sweetheart?”

  “Red, Sir.” I swallow. He doesn’t usually remind me of my safewords. I’ve never needed a safeword with him. I know he won’t do anything I can’t handle. But it’s wise of him tonight. I’m in an unusual space. He knows it.

  “Yellow if you need a break, okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m going to take my time, Leah. I want you to ache for release by the time I’m done.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek at his words. I already ache for release. I’m going to detonate.

  Even with my eyes closed, I sense him leaning into me and I blink when his lips brush against my ear. “Yellow if you get too close to orgasm. You don’t have permission to come until I say so.”

  I gasp. My heart is racing. No one has ever told me not to come. I squirm, testing my restraints.

  “You’re already at yellow, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His words are breathy and so close to my ear.

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper.

  “Repeat my instructions so I’ll know you heard me.”

  I lick my lips. “I won’t come without permission, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” His Daddy comes out when he calls me that, but I don’t mind. I want to be his good girl. I’m not sure I can follow his order, but I’m going to try.

  He steadies me with a palm on the small of my back. The first swat makes me jump. It’s barely noticeable but I’m edgy. The second lands on the other cheek. I close my eyes again and let my mind slip into that delicious place they call subspace. A place where none of my worries or problems exist. A place where I can turn myself over to someone and experience total bliss.

  He spanks me several more times, slowly increasing the pressure, moving his hand around to cover every inch of my skin. When he pauses to rub my heated cheeks, he leans over and kisses each of them too. “You have no idea how sexy your little bottom is all hot and heated like this.”

  I whimper. His word choice once again tugs me toward a place he’s more accustomed to than me. I am small. That’s a fact I can’t escape. In addition, Craig is so tall and broad that he makes me look and feel even smaller. He’s not wrong that my butt is little. But that’s not the way he means that word. His Daddy is slipping in when he says bottom instead of butt or ass or any number of other choices he could have made.

  “May I continue, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I murmur. For a moment, I wonder what Eve or any other little feels like when they submit to a Daddy. It’s times like this that I get a glimpse of their preferred kink. It’s not a big deal. It’s still a form of submission.

  Craig resumes spanking me, but when I gasp and clench my butt cheeks, he stops again, rubbing my skin. “Don’t forget my rule, sweetheart. It seems like your naug
hty little body is a bit too close to the edge.”

  I shudder. Why on earth am I reacting to him like this? Something in our dynamic shifts.

  “Deep breaths, Leah.”

  I’m unnerved by the fact that he’s called me naughty. I’m not naughty. I’m a good girl. I inhale long and slow, blowing it out just as slowly, so he will see that I can follow directions.

  “Good girl. I’m going to spank you harder now. Concentrate on my palm on your bottom. Concentrate on the slow burn.”

  I hold my breath when he resumes, trying to do as he instructed. I clench my pussy. The only reason I’m not writhing from an intense orgasm is that he hasn’t touched my pussy a single time. He hasn’t touched my nipples either. If he did either of those, I would probably shoot off like a rocket.

  God, I love this feeling. The sting from each slap, the burn that grows and grows as he swats the same reddened spots over and over again. The release I get is huge. It’s like there’s a tight rubber band inside me and it’s going to snap.

  Normally that snap can happen from the spanking alone. It doesn’t have to include an orgasm. It can be a simple release I get from enduring the growing burn until I cry out. But it’s so much sweeter when I know there will be another level of physical release at the end.

  In my head, I’m begging him to touch my pussy. A simple stroke would be enough to push me over the edge.

  He’s smart though. He knows this. He’s not going to touch me until he decides to give me permission to come.

  His spanking moves to the backs of my thighs, making me writhe with increased need. The vibrations shoot to my clit.

  “Yellow,” I shout as my legs start to quiver.

  He stops, his hand rubbing my heated skin. “Good girl. Control the need.”

  I’m panting. “Sir…”

  “I know, sweetheart. But not yet. I want to take you a little higher. Can you do that for me?”

  I nod against the bench.

  “May I continue?”

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice is weak with uncertainty. I want to please him though. I want to hold off because it will be so much sweeter and more powerful if I do.