Provoking the Dom (3 page)

"Take the shirt off."

I shuddered internally, and undid the buttons, finally pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. I didn't want to meet his eyes and felt embarrassed to be wearing just my underwear in front of him. But really, this was no different from wearing a bikini, I told myself as I linked my fingers again and glanced up at him.

Morgan's eyes had darkened as he stared at me. My breasts were thrust out, and I knew he could make out their dark aureoles through the lacy fabric of the bra.

"Look at the floor."

I did as he said, happy to not have to meet his eyes. It was flattering in a way – I could feel the desire radiating from his body. But on the other hand, I felt stripped of my dignity.

Morgan began to lecture me. "The first rule of being a Submissive is to act like one. This means that you don't show any aggressiveness, which in turn allows your Dom to take care of you. You need to show your submissiveness through your posture. You can move your hands behind your back now."

I complied happily, my arms had started to hurt.

Morgan continued, his voice darkening with lust, "This kneeling pose and the one before that are meant to expose you to your Dom. Your breasts are pushed out for his taking, your pussy is also exposed. See how easily I access it."

He sat before me and began to stroke my inner thigh gently, moving his fingers slowly up till the reached my entrance. I gulped as he rubbed me, making me wet, his fingers pressing against my clit and then leaving to squeeze my nipples, first the right, then the left.

He moved away again and I felt strangely disappointed. "See how easily I have access to you?"

I nodded, blushing at my body's quick reaction. My nipples had hardened now, and I could see them poking through my bra. I looked up at him, hoping to see the desire in his eyes, and I was happy with what I saw.

Morgan glared at me when I met his eyes. "Look down."

"Why?"

"Because meeting your Dom's eyes is a sign of aggressiveness. Think of wolves – you only eye the leader of the pack if you want to challenge him. Looking down is part of the submissive pose. You should also part your lips, so I have easy access to your mouth."

I looked down and parted my lips, wondering if Morgan would kiss me.

He moved forward and ran a thumb over my lips. "Excellent."

I remained in that pose, growing slightly wet in expectation, while Morgan went on about the role of the Sub and the Dom's duty to take care of her.

"The Dom has a harder time," he said, "because he constantly has to be aware of the Sub's needs and whether or not she's enjoying it, whether he's pushing her too hard or not. On the other hand, the Sub can just relax and enjoy whatever is going on."

I nodded, understanding this bit. I'm an obsessive planner, and that often carried on into my relationships – and if the Dom was really concerned, the Sub might have a good time letting him do the planning.

Morgan went on to tell me we'd be using the traffic light system for safe words. "If you're enjoying yourself, it's Green. If you're a bit uncomfortable and want to pause, it's Yellow. If you want to stop, it's Red – but using a Red means that the scene will end completely, so use it carefully. You don't want to misuse the words, because in that case the Dom will stop trusting you, and BDSM relationships are all about trust."

"But what if the Dom breaks the Sub's trust?"

I couldn't help myself. Depending on a man to take care of you could be great – but why would you trust him so much?

I could feel Morgan's eyes on me and he said gently, "Then you'd scream Red, and get the hell out of there. There's no place for abuse in BDSM.
You need to be with someone you can absolutely trust."

I nodded, that made sense to me. "But what about spankings and bondage? What if the Sub doesn’t like that?"

"Then she shouldn't be in BDSM. But most women like that, if they're introduced to it properly. But I think this is enough for now – have you had dinner?"

I shook my head, relieved, wondering if I could get dressed now.

"Neither have I. Why don't you take a relaxing hot shower, and I'll order some food."

Morgan pointed to a bathroom at the far end of the floor, and I headed over, relieved to get a break.

When I came out, I was wearing a white, fluffy robe that had been hanging on the door and I could smell Chinese food.

I followed the smell to the dining table, where Morgan was sitting before a plate heaped with noodles, beef in a dark sauce, and curried vegetables.

He looked at me and said, "Take off the robe and come here."

I hesitated. He was still fully dressed and I didn't want to be completely naked. But he caught my eye and said, "Look at the floor. And remember, naughty submissives get punished."

There was a grim smile on his face and his eyes were dark and greedy. I didn't want to find out how he would punish me, and I slipped the robe off, trying not to think.

The cool air hit my body, and I felt his lingering gaze. My nipples were hardening of their own accord, and I made my way over to him, trying my best to forget I wasn't wearing anything.

Morgan patted his lap and said, "Sit here."

I took a deep breath and sat gingerly on his leg. I felt his hands on my waist, and he lifted me up and moved me back, so that I was sitting on him properly, my feet dangling off the floor. I squirmed uneasily, wriggling against his rough jeans, till I felt more comfortable.

The aroma of the food wafted up to me, and I glanced at it. As if on cue, Morgan picked up a spring roll and held it up to my mouth.

I stared at it, realizing I was meant to bite in. My stomach growled and I shook my head. "Why don't I just feed myself?"

"Because taking care of the Sub is the Dom's duty. This means that as your Dom this week, I'll be feeding you and cleaning you. You're my responsibility."

"But I can just feed myself and …" I didn't want to say "clean myself."

Morgan refused to budge and I bit into the spring roll. A little bit of the veggie filling rolled off and fell between my breasts.

Morgan put the roll away. "It's a Dom's privilege to spoil their Subs."

His fingers grazed my breast, my skin burning where he touched me as he picked up the morsel. "You dropped a bit."

I watched his fingers travel up to his lips and he swallowed it.

We continued like this for a few minutes, as he fed me and I dropped crumbs all over myself. He took his time picking them up, grazing my skin as the crumbs fell onto my breasts and thighs.

When I'd had a few bites of the noodles and beef, Morgan had a few bites himself and told me we were done. My hunger had gone away but I was far from full.
Still
,
I followed him wordlessly, staring at the ground like a good sub. I felt his eyes on my body, and he took up his previous place on the sofa, and indicated the spot in front of him.

I kneeled down with my hands by my side and kept my knees together. It had suddenly occurred to me just how exposed I would be if I spread my legs apart – Morgan would have a perfect view between my legs, my lips would be spread out and displayed for him.

"Assume the position."

His voice was harsh and dark and I didn't dare glance up. Slowly, I put my hands behind my back and linked my fingers. I spread my knees apart, blushing and growing wet in anticipation. The knowledge that he could see my wetness was making me embarrassed.

I could feel his eyes on my body, drinking in the sight of me naked and vulnerable. But he didn't say anything about my nakedness. Instead, he lectured me for a while about the role of the Sub and Dom, how the Dom always needed to be aware of the Sub's responses and how the Sub needed to communicate what she was feeling so that the Dom could respond appropriately.

I tried not to roll my eyes at the patronizing attitude Doms took towards their subs.

Morgan finished his lecture by saying that from now on, when we were in the roles of Dom and Sub, he would call me "Girl" and I would call him "Sir" or "Master.”

I glared at the floor, thinking that the term "Girl" was demeaning and infantilizing. But Morgan seemed to be expecting an answer, so I nodded my head, and managed to say, "Yes, Master."

I could feel his pleasure at my address, and he came toward me and began to stroke his fingertips along my arms, up and down, making my shiver. He moved his fingertips down to my knees and then moved up slowly, stroking my inner thighs gently, higher and higher
until he arrived at my entrance. His fingers brushed across it lightly and then they moved back down my inner thighs. I tried to keep from groaning and letting my disappointment show.

Morgan moved his fingers up to my breasts, and his fingertips began to swirl around them slowly, moving in concentric circles until he got to my nipples. He swirled around the aureoles, ignoring the tips which had hardened by now and were pointing out in anticipation.

I was glad to be looking at the floor, happy that he couldn't see the arousal in my eyes. But then he commanded me to look at him and I looked up, and felt myself drowning in his dark glance. His face was awash with desire and I no longer felt embarrassed about my wetness. My own excitement was evident, and Morgan said, "I think it's time to move to the bedroom."

I let him take my hand and help me up, and I glanced at the floor again.

We walked up the stairs slowly, and when we finally got into the bedroom I felt a bit shy again. Although I'd been naked for a long time, being in the bedroom somehow seemed more intimate.

Chapter Four

"Lie on the bed, face down."

I did as he said, feeling a bit nervous. I wondered what he'd do to me – I was completely vulnerable and exposed, and I hoped he wouldn't hurt me. I tried to calm myself down by reminding myself it was in Morgan's best interests to not hurt me, to make me like what was going on.

I'm not sure what I expected to happen - maybe Morgan would bring out a whip and start whipping me, or maybe he'd use some kind of fancy implement to torture me?

So I was a bit surprised when I saw Morgan place a bottle of essential oil on the nightstand, and he sat beside me and placed a hand on my spine.

"It's time for a massage," he said softly, and he slowly began to massage in the oil, which smelled of a combination of something sweet and citrusy.

Morgan's hands began to move across the back of my neck, pressing into my shoulders, and then down my arms. He moved up to my neck again, and then slowly began to move down my back, pressing down and making me sigh with pleasure. This wasn't what I'd expected and I suddenly realized how strong and large Morgan's hands were. They roamed across my body gently, making me melt into a puddle of softness.

When he finished massaging my back, he came out with four fur-lined handcuffs and cuffed me to the four posters of the bed. I was too relaxed to care, but once I was tied in place I began to feel uneasy again. I tested the restraints – the fur lining meant they didn't hurt, but I couldn't really move.

I felt Morgan watching me wriggle against the cuffs, and I turned my head to look at him. There was a prominent bulge in the front of his pants and I realized that my legs were spread apart, exposing me for easy access. Morgan's eyes were dark with lust, and he placed one hand on my ass.