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Authors: Sindra van Yssel

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BOOK: RecipeforSubmission
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He didn’t blink. “And never, ever stick that out unless you
intend to use it. And have it used.” His lips crushed hers in a kiss, and his
tongue pushed inside her mouth. Their tongues danced and wrestled, slipping
over one another. His face pressed her head back, the mattress compressing
behind it before she was trapped between his kiss and the bed. He kissed as
well as he cooked, and she found herself hungry for it, her lips pressing back,
her tongue overpowered but still questing to get deeper into his mouth.

When he finally drew back, she wanted to say
thank you
,
but different words came out instead. “When you kiss me like that, I can’t say
my word, can I?”

He stared at her.
Damn my smart mouth.

“Well?” he said.

She didn’t say a word.

“I didn’t think so. Don’t you dare move an inch.” He lifted
his leg up and over her thigh and then rolled out of bed. She wondered if she’d
really pissed him off, but he didn’t sound angry. Just firm. Unyielding. In
control, of himself and her. She didn’t move.

He opened a drawer and came back with rope. He was quick
about it, tying her wrists to the upper corners of the bed and her ankles to
the lower ones. She let him, ignoring the voice that told her that it wasn’t
safe to be tied up in the house of a stranger, especially one who kept rope
right near his bed in case he needed it. She would be at his mercy. She
wanted
to be at his mercy.
This is crazy. But I want it.

“Now I’ll do what I wanted to do in the first place.” He
moved back onto the bed, between her legs, and kissed her pussy with an
exaggerated smack.

The touch of his lips sent shivers up her spine and sparks
straight to her core. She felt her pussy clench, wanting to have something
inside it to squeeze. She felt his hands on the inside of her thighs and
thought a finger or two would do nicely if she wasn’t going to have his cock
right away. But he didn’t penetrate her. He stroked down, his rough fingers
pressing into her flesh, pulling from each side of her labia and then down
several inches, stretching sensitive skin. She felt her pussy lips spread and
his tongue dove in to take advantage, licking her, tasting her. His nose
tickled her clit for a moment, making her tingle, and then it was gone.
Fortunately his warm, wet tongue soon replaced it, soothing the tingle and
making it worse all at the same time.

His fingers crawled upward as his tongue continued its
assault. They pulled at her skin and the touch of his tongue intensified. Her
clit felt huge and engorged. Muscles in her belly twitched as she felt the heat
rise. She was losing control. Her orgasm was so close a few more touches would
do it. “Please. Yes. Like that.”

He drew back. “Would you like to come?”

“Yes, goddammit!” He knew the answer, why was he even asking
her?

His fingers stroked lazily around the inside of her thighs
and she pushed with her hips, trying to make contact with his knuckles at
least. She succeeded, once, but it didn’t put her over the edge, just made her
teeter more frustratingly.

“Yes, I would,” she said, thinking maybe if she didn’t swear
at him he’d help her come. But she already felt it receding, and he did nothing
but watch her eyes.

“A sub says ‘yes Sir’ when asked a question like that. Or
even ‘if you wish, Sir,’ if she trusts her Dom to understand she means yes.
Whether you get to come, of course, is still up to me.” He bent down between
her legs again and licked up one side of her labia and then down the other,
with only a momentary stop at her clit on the way.

“Yes Sir,” she said. There was no way she was taking any
chances with his understanding.

“When I ask,” he murmured, and repeated the slow path of his
tongue, starting on the other side. It wasn’t enough, but she wasn’t in any
position to make him do more. She felt the pressure build inside her again as
his tongue flicked past her clit one more time. He teased her until she was
sure she couldn’t take it anymore, his hands stroking all around her sex but
never touching, his tongue tasting her but never concentrating on where she
needed it long enough.

“Would you like to come, Kyra?”

“Yes!” That wasn’t enough, she knew.
What did he say?
I’ll say anything.
“Yes, Master, please!”

“Sir would have done, love,
Master
is for slaves.”
But his tongue flicked across her clit and didn’t leave, moving back and forth
in tight little circles that made her pussy feel as if it were on fire. His
fingers plunged into her—two, three? Then everything broke loose and her body
shook, pulling at the ropes around her wrists and ankles without even intending
to. Never before had she felt an orgasm all over instead of just down below,
and it seemed as if it wouldn’t stop. Her arms and legs quivered, her face grew
hot, her breasts tingled and jiggled and her womb clenched. She screamed.

Chapter Five

 

Drew admired his handiwork. Her body shone with sweat. Her
eyes were closed and her breathing heavy. Her breasts rose and fell, pretty
pink nipples jutting out at him. She looked as if she were going to fall
asleep, her body sated, and he was going to let her despite the raging hard-on
he had. If he grabbed a condom from the drawer and fucked her hard he doubted
she’d object, and it would certainly satisfy his needs on one level, but he
wanted her awake and with him.

Her eyes fluttered open. Her voice was husky. “Now your
needs, Sir.” For all he’d thought she was dropping off, her gaze was remarkably
steady.

He smiled. So she was going to stay awake after all.

She pulled at the ropes around her wrists as if she forgot they
were there. Then she pulled again, after the ropes had reminded her. “I could
please you more if you let me go. Sir.”

“You please me most bound.”

He slipped off the bed and stood, taking his shirt off. He
didn’t really want to bother; he would have been happy to free his cock and
plunge it into her. He had to force himself to remember he was more than his
cock, and he’d enjoy himself best naked. He enjoyed the power imbalance
accentuated by having her naked while he was fully clothed but it was an appetizer,
not the main course.

When he finally got his pants off, her eyes went wide.
“You’re big.”

He chuckled. He knew nature had been kind to him.

“Sir? I have a request.”

He thought he knew what it was going to be.
Fuck me.
That suited him fine. She asked respectfully enough, so she’d figured out how
to play the game. For a tourist, she was doing very well. “Go ahead.”

“Please use me in whatever way your imagination desires,
Sir.”

He’d heard
whatever you want
from women. But the way
she phrased it was something else entirely. She didn’t know how wild his
imagination could run. He opened the drawer, ripped open the foil packet and
rolled the condom over his cock. He’d reward her. If she thought she was done
coming, she was in for a surprise.

He mounted the bed and Kyra, positioning his cock at her
entrance, rubbing it against her folds. She jerked her hips up in response,
spurring him on. She wanted it, all right. At least she wasn’t one of those
idiots who protested that he was going to be too big for her.

He entered her slowly, advancing inch by inch, although as
slick as she was he could have plunged all the way in with one thrust. She
tried to wiggle forward and hurry matters along, and the bed creaked as her
ankles pulled on her bindings.

“Yessssss.”

He grinned. She was a vocal little thing, and he liked that.
He liked everything he knew about her, now that his guard was down. He reached
up and squeezed her breasts and she groaned.
Whatever way your imagination
desires, Sir.
He moved his fingers closer together. Her nipples called to
him and he wanted to see how sensitive they were, how much she could take with
pleasure. He remembered how she liked it when the flogger wrapped around. He
was guessing he wouldn’t be disappointed. But he decided to wait a moment.

He moved that last inch, until he was all the way in and her
pussy squeezed him. That was no involuntary reaction, he knew. He smiled at
her, waited for her to unclench, and then pulled almost all the way out. Her
eyes pleaded with him. His fingers squeezed her nipples and tugged as he
slammed back in.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened and then he couldn’t see them anymore
as she arched her back and pushed her hips toward him, her head leaning
backward. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He watched her breasts jiggle as he held them by their tips.
She pulled back against him, helpless to get away but increasing the tug on her
tender peaks even more. He’d intended to let her go, to hold them for a moment,
but he wasn’t going to let her take the upper hand by pulling away. He moved back
and forth, fucking her, and her upper body held still while her hips jerked in
rhythm with his. She wasn’t trying to pull away after all, he realized, as she
didn’t try to relax the tension in her breasts. She was trying to intensify the
sensation. He grinned.
My kind of woman.

He replaced one pair of fingers with his mouth and sucked
greedily. His cock was aching for her and he was possessed of a primitive
desire to claim her, to mark her as his and his alone. He rubbed her tender
nipple against his teeth and all she did was moan louder. He had thought her
done when her eyes had closed earlier, but she was close, very close, to
another orgasm. Maybe as close as he was. He straightened, letting the suction
go, and held her breasts in his palms. She liked the intensity. He’d give it to
her at the right moment.

He gritted his teeth to avoid giving in to his own need to
erupt inside her. She wouldn’t want him to slow down, and damn if that wouldn’t
make it easier. He filled her, thrusting in deep, as far as he could, and he
felt her pussy flutter around him. Almost there. Almost. He reached forward and
flicked the peaks of her breasts with a snap of his fingers.
If I’m right
about her…

He was. She yelled his name, not in anger but in ecstasy. He
felt her pussy convulse around him. She flailed on the bed, pulling ropes taut,
her hands gripping in little fists.
Perfect. Such lovely breasts. Such
lovely reactions.
He could come now, safely, inside her. That was what he
wanted, although…

Your imagination.
That was what she said. He wanted
to mark her and yet leave her undamaged. Her tits beckoned him. He slid out of
her channel, ripped off the condom, and moved forward, pushing her breasts
together in his rough hands and sliding his cock between them.

She nodded at him, wide-eyed, and then stretched her tongue
out to flick his tip. The wet touch was like a jolt of fire shooting down his
cock. That hadn’t been part of his plan. He knew he was clean but she didn’t.
Still, spilling on her skin was safe enough. In her mouth, well…he knew it was
safe. He pulled back but he couldn’t resist pushing forward again, and again
her tongue teased him. He should make her stop. He couldn’t stand to. And he
didn’t want to take his hands off her lovely breasts. One thrust more would do
it, he knew, and he’d be all over her. She’d smell of him, taste of him, feel
him spread out across her skin.

He grabbed her hair, pulling her mouth away. It didn’t
matter anymore that he couldn’t squeeze her against him, he was coming anyway,
his seed shooting across her chest and her neck. “Ahhhhhhh.”

“Yes, Sir, yes!” she screamed. She pulled against his grip
to try to lick up the liquid on her chest. He held her firm. “Please let me
taste you!”

“You barely know me.”

She turned aside as if he’d slapped her. It was the truth,
wasn’t it? And yet he’d wanted to claim her. That had been what coming on her
body had been about, rather than giving in to the so-seductive squeezes of her
pussy and spilling inside the condom.
He
hadn’t been acting or thinking
like a near stranger.
Shit.

“I’ll get a towel and wash that up.” He got up and headed to
the adjoining bathroom, not sure what he could do to salvage the situation. But
he had to do something.

“Good idea.” Her voice was steady. She didn’t burst into
tears or anything like that. She turned her head to watch him. He got back with
a damp washcloth and a dry hand towel. He dabbed her clean then dried her off.
“Maybe you should untie me too, please.”

She hadn’t said her safe word, but he nodded. He’d been
planning to anyway. Deftly he untied the knots that secured her wrists and
ankles, leaving the ropes still attached to the bedposts. She sat up. “Thanks.”

He turned to sit next to her on the side of the bed. “My
pleasure, my total pleasure.”

Her smile at that was thin, but at least it was still a
smile. The way she leaned into him was nice. She was cuddly and warm, and his
arm fit around her waist fine. “You said that ‘master’ was for slaves. What’s
the difference between a slave and a submissive?” she asked.

He recognized what she was doing, getting the conversation
back on the familiar ground of research. Fair enough. “Ask a dozen people in
the scene and you’d probably get twelve different answers, including that there
isn’t any, that it’s just words people use. But to my mind a submissive is
someone who gives up power for a scene, for a few minutes or a few hours of
play, and then goes back to their normal lives. A slave is someone who gives up
power to one person or a few people permanently, or at least for a very long
time.”

“Have you ever had a slave?”

He shook his head.

“You said a few people? You mean there are some people who
are slaves to a group?”

“Well, two, usually. Sometimes the slave is the center of
attention, like a woman submitting to two heterosexual masters. Some people
don’t like being the center of attention and submit to a married couple, or
something like that. The reasons they might have are as varied as there are
people, but it can be very comforting to belong as part of a group, obviously.”

BOOK: RecipeforSubmission
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