Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (18 page)

Chapter Six

Jamie

Oh just do it, woman. Don’t keep me waiting. I could order her, again to get on with it, but the moment of anticipation is too all-encompassing. My voice would crack. I’m sure of it.

As it is, I dare not look at her. She’s so ultimately sexy, down on her knees, about to put her soft lips on me. With a hand that’s nowhere near as steady as it should be, I grip the back of her head, compelling her towards me. Her hair is cool and silky against my fingers.

And then… oh God. She slips me into the heavenly heat and moisture of her mouth. Flying back across the years, I have to bite my lip to hold in a moan. The act is so simple, yet so monumental.

How could I have forgotten?

But I didn’t forget, did I? The recollection of this sensation has been with me all along.

Her tongue goes into action immediately, flickering and exploring and probing and digging into the most susceptible spots. Just as if it were only yesterday since she did this. As she laps and laves me, I wonder. How many men has she been with and done this to? Has she had a lot of practice? She didn’t need it though. She was always good at this, and her technique is as perfect as it always was.

As she worries the groove beneath my crown, I grunt. I can’t help myself. I can’t stay aloof and masterly. It’s too good. Far too good. I grab at her head with both hands and brace my thighs. I don’t want to tumble to the floor as I come, but it might be a very close thing.

I try to think of formulae and code, the tools of my trade as a mathematician, programmer, and scientist. It’s a vain attempt to stop myself overflowing and climaxing immediately. But it’s hopeless, hopeless. My balls crawl and silver fire hurtles down my spine, barrelling through my loins and out through my cock as I shoot my semen, almost like the callow youth I once was.

My mind blanks, but somehow my body doesn’t betray me, and I remain standing, my hips jerking in a hammer rhythm.

As I come back to myself, I seem to hear laughter, even though the only sound is my gasping, laboured breathing.

It’s triumph echoing through my mind. An atavistic lizard triumph of my own, yet which is also hers.

Suzie’s.

She’s playing a submissive role she barely understands yet, but somehow she’s already got the better of me.

For the moment, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

Susannah

Oh, he tastes so good! Even if in reality he doesn’t taste of much at all. Semen is a bit bland when it comes right down to it. It’s the context and the emotion of the moment that create its savour.

Greedily, I swallow down every last drop as if I’m swallowing Jamie’s pleasure too, like a healing balsam. The echoes of the past have been with us like a ghost at the feast, but now that we’ve had an orgasm apiece, they’re fading, losing their power to disrupt our enjoyment of each other.

At least for the moment, as I let him slip from between my lips.

I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what I’m allowed to do. Should I kiss him one last time? Or just wait to be told what to do, listening to the sound of his breathing returning to normal? Are his eyes still closed? I daren’t look up and see.

‘Put me away,’ he says in a low, commanding voice. How quickly his poise returns. So soon after my orgasm, I was still in little pieces. ‘With care.’

I focus on my task, not daring to glance upwards. He’s deflated but still substantial, the velvety skin still shiny with my saliva and his come. Carefully, I tug the elastic away from under his balls and tuck him back inside before zipping him up. I fumble for the button, but he says, ‘Enough. That will do.’

I leave him unbuttoned and await instructions.

‘So, now what am I going to do with you?’ He leaves me still kneeling and walks to the sideboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him top up a champagne glass and take a long drink, his head tipping back and his eyes closing as he swallows. The impression of an angel returns, a dark and dangerous angel but beatific all the same. After he’s taken another sip, he returns to me and puts the glass to my lips. I sip gratefully, even though it means losing his flavour.

‘You must be obedient, Suzie,’ he says crisply, abandoning the glass. ‘A submissive doesn’t initiate. She goes along with the flow of the master’s wishes. The blow job was very pleasant, but it wasn’t exactly how I planned to start this thing.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hush. The submissive doesn’t speak until instructed to either. What on earth am I going to do with you?’ His voice softens.

For a few moments he’s silent, and I can tell he’s scrutinising me, even though I keep my eyes lowered as I assume a submissive ought to.

‘You’re wearing far too many clothes for a start. Take them off.’

I risk a glance.

‘Everything off. I want you naked. You can get to your feet if that’ll make it easier.’

Cautiously, I rise. My heart is pounding, and suddenly my excitement is rising as if it’s shooting skywards in an escalator. We’re really getting into it now, and it’s deadly serious… and seriously thrilling. It’s as if suddenly I’m in another world, and to my surprise, I understand its allure.

Having already abandoned my jacket, I reach around to unbutton the back of my simple shell top, not sure where what feels like a dozen thumbs have come from. I struggle like an idiot getting the thing off over my head and get all hot and bothered, annoyed by my own lack of grace. Once I’m free, I fling the top on the carpet.

‘Tut-tut.’ To my astonishment, Jamie swoops down to retrieve it and puts it neatly over the back of a hard chair.

To try to retrieve some equilibrium, I step out of my shoes before tackling my skirt and place them by the same chair. Skirt off next, and then I’m in my undies. They’re pretty lace undies, and I suppose I chose them with the subconscious idea of meeting someone. But Jamie doesn’t comment, even though he’s surely worked out the reason for such sexy finery.

The urge to fold my arms across my breasts when I’ve taken off my bra is almost as irresistible as it is irrational. It’s been a long time, but Jamie’s seen my breasts before. And he’s touched my pussy within the past half hour, so the apprehension about taking off my knickers is just as ridiculous.

Naked, I stand before him, staring at my toes again. I feel as if I’m in a state beyond nudity now, more exposed than I’ve ever been, and he ramps up the situation by walking around me in a slow circle, as if he’s checking every little change the years might have wrought.

‘You’re very lovely,’ he says at last and reaches out to cup my breast, almost as if weighing it and comparing the heft of it to the last time he touched it. I think my figure is better these days, even though I’m no slender supermodel. I still had the last of my puppy fat back then, and I’ve sleekened a bit now, even though I still have curves.

That electric energy surges through me again when he strums one of my nipples. It’s as hard as a stone, perkily erect. When Jamie rolls it between his finger and thumb, then pinches, my hips jerk and I let out a gasp.

‘You always did like your nipples played with, didn’t you?’ He pinches a bit harder, drawing the tip of my breast away from my chest wall, creating an excruciating tension. The gasp becomes a moan, and the urge to reach between my legs and stroke myself almost twists me in two.

‘Keep still.’ He doesn’t shout or raise his voice in the slightest, but it’s a rigorous command.

I obey, even though the tension makes me almost gasp for breath as he continues to torment my breast, pulling, tugging. Not hard, but very assertively. He’s found a most acute vulnerability. The pain of what he’s doing is minimal, really, more a discomfort, but against all reason, I want him to do more. And more and more and more…

What’s wrong with me?

Is
anything wrong with me? I don’t think so.

How long have I been into this without being aware of it?

He tweaks a little harder and I squirm, unable to hold in a little moan. I’m wet between my legs too, all over again, more than before. There’s a sensation of welling over and I could swear that it’s starting to trickle down my inner thigh.

‘You really like this, don’t you?’ Jamie purrs, moving in closer now, not tugging but just twisting a little harder. I purse my lips to stop myself whimpering out loud, but he kisses me, teasing the sound from my mouth and consuming it.

It’s a very tender kiss, but his tongue delicately intrudes. Mine reciprocates hungrily, pushing back, and he makes an
uh-uh
sound of admonishment in his throat.

I ignore him, tasting boldly. I can’t help myself.

‘You’re a wicked, disobedient girl,’ he tells me, mouth still next to mine, letting me feel his smile as he releases my breast and slides both hands down my body and around the back to cup my buttocks. ‘But you’re really into this, aren’t you? You’re a natural submissive, even if you are a naughty one.’

He kisses me again. Hard this time, his tongue utterly subduing mine. He squeezes my bottom at the same time, and the feeling is like an electric shock again. Helplessly I wriggle my hips and grind against him. He’s hard as a rock again, surprise, surprise.

Chapter Seven

Jamie

She’s really into this. She’s right on the page with me. Why the hell didn’t we try this all those years ago? We might have stayed together then. It might have been our bond.

But that’s stupid. Why brood on what might have been? Especially now that my cock is hard as a rock again. My powers of recuperation are pretty much those of any normal, average man, but Suzie seems to have changed me into a god!

Her mouth is intoxicating. Her bottom’s a work of art. The way she wriggles and moans under even the slightest bit of pleasure-pain is a miracle. God, I can’t wait to get her over my knee so I can spank her.

‘Answer me,’ I demand against her mouth, gripping the gorgeous rounds of her bottom for emphasis. ‘Tell me what you’re feeling, and if it’s good, or speak the safe word.’

My heart pounds as she hesitates. Does she know how much this means to me? How something greater, something fugitive and indefinable hinges on her answer? Emotions flit and plunge about my mind, shocking me. I must remain resolute though. It’s just adrenaline that’s affecting me. Arousal, and the heat of the moment. Nothing more.

‘I… I like it,’ she answers, barely more than a breath. ‘I don’t know why. I just do. It’s against my nature. Everything I’ve ever felt. But I want more. I… um… I want everything, I think. But I don’t know what that is.’

I almost laugh. Her answer is perfect. Eloquent. Somehow summing up the urges of this strange mirror world of BDSM play perfectly.

Just as I said, as I suspected, she’s a natural.

Susannah

What the hell am I babbling about? I don’t know anything. Why am I asking for ‘everything’? I probably can’t take it. But I feel so hungry, and so turned on; he’s making me crazy. My pussy flutters, confirming my confused thoughts, clarifying them with the simplicity of lust. My hips rock of their own volition it seems, and I rub my crotch against his in forbidden forwardness.

‘Good. Very good.’ His fingers close tightly around my buttocks and squeeze again, fingers digging in. Not quite cruel, but powerful enough to make me moan again. ‘But you have to try to control yourself, Suzie. You have to be a quiet, obedient submissive. Do you understand?’ He kneads me even harder for emphasis, raising the stakes.

I nod my head. I daren’t speak, because I might whimper and beg him to do… something… if I open my mouth.

I keep as still as I can, on the macro scale. But I can’t stop my flesh from pulsing, almost on the edge of orgasm, or the silk of my arousal slithering again down my thigh.

Jamie’s fingers plunge into my cleft as if he has superpowers and he’s detected the flow.

‘Hell, you’re wet, aren’t you? Running like a river, and we’ve barely even begun. I can’t begin to imagine how you’ll be when I start spanking you.’ He plunges two fingers crudely into my vagina from behind and nips at my lower lip with his straight white teeth. ‘I like it though. I really, really like it.’ His voice is husky as he parts his fingers, stretching me.

I can’t wait. I feel as if I’m going to explode. I want to rub my clit furiously and come again. I start to reach down and do the deed, but he cuts me off.

‘No, no, no, wicked woman. No more orgasms until I say so. Your pleasure is mine to grant now. Your orgasms are mine. Your bottom and your pussy are mine.’

He plunges his fingers in deeper, and just as my clit starts to throb, he snatches them back out again and lands a little, light slap on my buttock.

Unable to contain it, I yelp. Not at the pain in my bum, which is minimal, though a shock. No, it’s the agony of frustrated lust that hurts so much. My clit feels enormous, my whole sex critical and yearning. One touch and I’d be off like a rocket.

Taking me by the upper arms, he puts me away from him a little, looking up and down my body. I daren’t glance in the mirror across the room, but I can imagine the sight of me. Pink of face, mouth slack with lust, pupils dilated. Nipples furiously erect, body trembling and blushing also. The gleam of aroused moisture on my thighs.

‘Sublime,’ he says, grinning archly. ‘Such a wanton, horny little trollop.’ He runs his tongue over his lips as if he’s imagining my taste. ‘Now you need taming. Punishment for your lack of control and your disobedience.’ His eyes crinkle in amusement. He knows all this role-talk is absurd, just the way that I do. It’s part of the game; it’s fun, indispensable, a playful ritual.

I stand before him, my fingers tingling with the effort of not flying to my pussy.

‘So where shall we do this thing?’ He looks around the room, and his gaze settles on a rather ordinary straight-backed chair to one side of the dressing table. He nods. ‘That’ll do. Fetch it here.’ He points to a spot close by.

I hurry to obey. The chair isn’t all that heavy, but it feels solid and well made. I’m very conscious of the wood pressing against my belly as I carry it. The slight pressure seems to transmit to my aching clit, stirring my need to come.

Gingerly, I set the chair in place and stand beside it, waiting and wishing that I were sitting astride the damn thing, bearing down and rocking my sex against the seat.

Again, Jamie’s slight smile seems to suggest that he’s read my mind. With an indolent grace, he sits down, almost lounging for a moment, then sets his feet squarely on the carpet, parting his thighs a bit and making a stable lap, the platform for my punishment.

He doesn’t speak. He just pats his strong, muscular thigh. Over we go.

Heck, how do I do this? I’m shaking. How do I stay graceful? I don’t want to tumble head first onto the floor or anything.

But as I make as if to drape myself over him like a living rag doll, his hands come up and he gently supports me and guides me into position with the lightest of touches. In an instant, I’m stretched across his lap, and I feel a bit precarious but far more balanced than I expected, thanks to the way his thighs are spread and his feet braced flat on the carpet. The fact that his toes are bare seems to give him better grip. I don’t quite know what to do with my arms, so I grip the edge of the chair and the chair leg.

‘Good girl,’ he says softly. There’s almost a note of tenderness there. Of affection, and maybe even admiration. I must have got the positioning right.

His hands settle upon me, flat at first and smoothing over the rounds of my bottom in a gentle circular stroking action, as if he were rubbing in lotion. Softening me up, no doubt. It’s calming, yet exciting. A precursor. His fingertips flicker lightly up and down my rear cleft, barely touching. How can something I can hardly feel make me want to squirm and grind so much?

‘Mm…’

The sound is speculative, as if he’s noting my reaction for the future. I wonder what the point of that is if we just have one night. A cold finger of regret touches my heart, then I forget it as he begins to squeeze and manhandle my buttocks more excitingly, kneading the flesh.

‘Part your thighs a little. Let me see more,’ he instructs.

And I try to comply without losing my equilibrium. I yelp when he gives my right buttock a little pinch.

‘Just testing your reactions.’ He pinches again, but I clamp my lips shut. ‘Always remember “emerald”. We can stop whenever you want.’

‘I don’t want to!’ I’m sure it’s a defiance of the rules, whatever they are, but I’m anxious to proceed. I want what’s coming. I want it a lot. But I fear it too, and the anticipation is making me crazy.

He laughs. ‘Well, that’s convenient, because neither do I.’

With that, he lands the first spank.

Oh God, it hurts. His hand is hard. It’s like fire from out of nowhere. A squeak of surprise and pain echoes round the beautifully appointed room, and the bigger surprise is that it came out of my mouth.

Already burning squarely across the crown of one buttock, I’m also astonished to realise that I’ve stopped clinging to the chair with my left hand and have got it clasped tightly against the punished area.

‘Oh no, no, no. You mustn’t do that. How can I aim?’ Jamie prises away the offending paw and takes hold of my wrist, pressing it lightly but firmly against the small of my back, securing me and bracing at the same time. ‘Do I have to tie your hands? Or can you behave yourself?’ He punctuates the statement with another vigorous slap on the other cheek.

Holy hell, this is mad. It hurts like fury. How stupid am I not to have realised that?

Or realised how else it might affect me? As I pant and try to gather my breath, the silk from my pussy gathers too, and I feel it well and trickle onto the denim of Jamie’s jeans.

‘It’s all right… um… Master,’ I add, realising I’m not acting how a submissive should. He doesn’t laugh, but I almost seem to feel his smile in his entire body. ‘It was just the surprise. I won’t do it again.’

‘I should think not.’ Another slap lands for emphasis. Another slice of force and fire. ‘A good submissive lies perfectly still and quiet across the master’s lap. No wriggling about like a maniac, or yelping, or grabbing at the target area.’

Each named sin is marked by a wallop, and though I don’t grab again, I succumb to the other two transgressions.

I can’t keep quiet. It hurts like a bitch. And at the same time, my sex seems to hurt more, gnawed by desire. Not being touched, not having my clit stroked and played with, is far more of a torment than a score of ferocious spanks.

He lands more slaps. Two? Three? Seven? God knows… All I know for sure is that the effect on my pussy is exponential. I’m somehow a hair away from coming. Maybe all it needs is another spank from him, or another strategic squirm from me, and I’ll be there.

‘Keep still,’ he says in a low, stern, and very thrilling voice, ‘and keep quiet. Try to keep it all in. Bottle it up. It’ll be better in the end.’

In a moment of clarity, I know what he means. When I do come, I’ll go into orbit.

The punishment continues, but I manage to control myself. To behave. It’s almost like a meditation somehow. My arse is in flames, and my pussy is screaming with need and desire, but I keep myself relatively still. And I bite my lip to keep in my moans and whimpers. I’m almost certain I can taste blood from that.

And then it all stops.

‘How do you feel?’

I’m gasping and panting. I couldn’t stop myself doing that, even if I managed not to vocalise. My brain is numb. What are words? Will I ever be able to form coherent speech ever again?

‘I… I don’t know,’ I manage at last. ‘I feel as if my arse is on fire… but…’

‘But what?’ He leans right over the back of me, because I’ve no breath for more than a whisper. His face brushes my hair, and I can feel
his
breath against it.

‘That’s not the worst thing. My arse, that is…’

‘Tell me.’

‘I…’ I realise that tears are streaming from my eyes. They’re nothing to do with pain in my rear and everything to do with unquenched desire.

His hand settles on my flank in a soft, reassuring gesture. I just break down into weeping, falling apart.

‘Hush, hush, hush,’ he soothes, his voice like music, like that of an angel. ‘You’re all right, Suzie. It’s just reaction. It’s your first time. It’s bound to be intense.’ He kisses my hair, rubbing his face against it as my bottom burns on and my pussy weeps as I do, for him.

In the middle of the chaos, a still, small voice says to me,
If only it wasn’t just for tonight
.