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Authors: Rachel Kramer Bussel,Donna George Storey

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BOOK: Surrender: Erotic Tales of Female Pleasure and Submission
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“We’d need a condom,” he whispered, looking down at me.
My eyes felt out of focus as I looked back at him. “I have some in my purse,” I whispered back, barely recognizing my own voice.
Dominic stepped back, and I walked shakily to the door in my pants, sneakers, and sports bra. I opened it and stepped through, blinking at the sunlight streaming in through the glass walls. It felt like a different world.
I retrieved my purse and reentered the supply room unsteadily. As I stepped through the door, Dominic’s hard chest hit me from behind, his arm instantaneously around my neck. I drew a quick breath and rammed my elbow to within an inch of his chest, my own chest heaving.
He whirled me around and pushed me back up against the wall.
“Good reaction time that time,” he said, his voice low. “Particularly under the circumstances.” I felt the hardness of his cock pressing against my hip. Slowly, he brought one hand up to grip my throat, then the other to join it.
“You know what to do now?” His voice was a whisper. The question wasn’t really a question. We had just practiced it in the studio.
I nodded. He looked at me, not moving.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered. I heard the tremble in my voice.
Dominic nodded slowly, eyes still on mine. He could have held me in place with them alone. He moved one hand to stroke a finger along my jawline, his eyes following it. His other hand stayed in place at my throat. He licked his lips and looked back at me.
Suddenly his grip tightened as he lifted me up against the wall by my neck. My jaw dropped, feet hanging loosely without the ground beneath them. I was exactly at eye level with Dominic now, his hand against the sides of my neck in a way that somehow barely hurt.
My pussy started to drip.
Dominic’s eyes blazed into mine as he reached and ran a finger from my collarbone down to the top of my sports bra. Slowly he lowered me back to the ground and pushed my sports bra up, grabbing my breasts with a firmness just short of painful. My breath came to a fiery halt in my throat.
“Breathe,” he whispered, looking into my eyes. It was an order he often gave during class. I obeyed, expelling the breath caught in my throat and deliberately guiding in another one.
Dominic reached up and removed my ponytail holder, then yanked my bra over my head and pulled me forward. He guided me across the room to a stack of floor mats about waist high. Pressing me up against them, he ran his hand up the back of my neck and grabbed my hair near my scalp. I whimpered as he kissed me, involuntarily gyrating against him. He lowered his hands and yanked my pants and panties down to my knees, lifting me to the stack of mats and pulling them the rest of the way off almost before I realized what was happening. I kicked my sneakers off and looked at him, breathing heavily.
Dominic lifted me back to the ground and turned me around, one hand holding my hip, the other tracing lightly over the front of my body. His fingers strayed casually, rising over the swell of my breast, dragging lightly across the nipple, then down the other side and on to the next one. The reminder to breathe was gone. I felt like I had forgotten how.
I wanted him to throw me down, ram his cock into me and fuck me hard, take full control of me, of him, of—everything. I tried to wiggle impatiently and realized that despite the calmness of his movements, the grip he had on me was like a clothespin on tissue paper. I felt his breath on my ear, steady in comparison to my almost frantic panting. Slowly he moved his hand from my breasts to the back of my neck again, sliding up through my hair and gripping into a fist. I caught my breath.
“Well, conveniently enough, I want to fuck you, too, Jackie,” he whispered smoothly, and my legs trembled. “And I think I know what you want me to do. You want me to hold you down, fuck you hard, get pretty rough with you.” I wondered if, for the first time, I would come without actually being touched. “You’re looking for power. In your own way, getting fucked rough like that will make you feel powerful. Is that right?” My vision was becoming fuzzy, and I could hardly make sense of the words he was saying.
Dominic let go of my hip and slid his hand across my stomach, up over my breasts and finally to my throat.
“Everything you’re looking for, Jackie, you already have inside you.” The tone of his whisper had changed, and I barely had time to process the words before he whipped me around, forcing my mouth open with his as he kissed me again. He held my hair in a fist of steel and moved his other hand back to my body, lightly brushing my rib cage. He pulled away and I watched the slow movement of his fingers, gliding like honey running over my skin.
I whimpered desperately. He hadn’t even touched my pussy, and I felt close to a kind of climax of which I didn’t know the meaning. It felt like a near euphoria combined with a vague but deep fear that together seemed to be pushing tears seriously toward the surface.
“Dominic,” I pleaded. My voice trembled like a blade of grass in the breeze. He looked up at me.
I realized then what he was doing. He was making me wait, making me feel, making me experience every single nuance, every detail, everything that was in me, in my body, rather than slamming it all away.
And suddenly I wondered if that was what having power over power meant.
The tears flowed out of me like an orgasm, fully beyond my control, my breath turning to a silent sob that felt somehow calm, even peaceful, as I felt a space open up in me I wasn’t sure I had ever felt before. Dominic’s eyes stayed on mine.
The wave moved through me, and Dominic dropped his finger to my clit. I gasped and climaxed as soon as he moved it, orgasm bursting forth in a rush so overpowering I almost felt I would lose consciousness. Steady, unabated screams pulsed through me as Dominic held my gaze as well as my balance with his unyielding grip at my neck. When it was done I fell limp, my entire body slick with sweat, legs shaking and hanging like string over the stack of mats.
Dominic lowered me onto my back and let go of my hair, then backed up and retrieved my purse. Hands shaking, I reached and fumbled through it in my horizontal position until I found the little zippered pouch. Extracting a condom from it, I pushed it into his hand.
I heard the package rip open and my purse drop to the floor as Dominic backed up. He slid me up farther on the stack of mats and leapt lightly onto them, pushing between my legs. My eyes were closed, and I opened them as he hovered above me. I was far beyond words, knowing only what was in my body.
“Breathe,” Dominic whispered again as he dropped his body onto mine, plunging into me and grasping my shoulders as his breath rushed against my ear. He thrust into me with rhythmic strength as I lay like a doll, sprawled powerlessly across the hard foam beneath me. Dominic pumped hard, holding my hips solidly. His breathing changed as he thrust just a bit harder and came inside me, my body like a deflated balloon, a beautiful, motionless receptacle for his come.
I closed my eyes again as he finished, feeling a sorrow at the impending loss of contact with his body. When he pulled out, I opened my eyes and turned to him. He leapt off the stack of mats and reached to help me down. I stopped at the edge, not ready to stand up yet.
In a daze, I looked at the floor, my body shaking. Dominic’s low voice broke the silence.
“Whatever is in you, whatever you’re feeling—feel it. Don’t hide from it. Don’t try to ‘beat’ it. Be with it until you understand it, until you know where it comes from.” I frowned at the floor. “Then it won’t rule you anymore.”
I raised my eyes to his as he finished the sentence. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto my neck as my quick breaths punctuated the silence in the room.
“That’s what power is,” Dominic said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with force or subjugation.”
I looked down at his hand as he held it out to me again and allowed my body to slide off the mats. My feet on the floor felt foreign.
I gathered my clothes and dressed slowly. Dominic handed me my purse as I straightened, and we walked to the door together. I turned to him; without a word, he grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me, rendering me immediately breathless as I braced myself against the door with one hand.
He let go of me slowly. My hand slipped from the door as he took a step back.
“See you Monday.” Dominic’s hand brushed the small of my back once before he stepped forward and turned the knob.
THE CHAIR
 
Lolita Lopez
 
 
 
 
 
 
T
he chair was a thing of sumptuous decadence: Sleek lines. Gleaming onyx wood. That ever-so-plush leather. From the first moment she’d spied the chair, Lily had desperately wanted to sink down into its sensual embrace. It had called to her, whispering naughtily in her ear and promising a sexual experience to top all others. Even now, all these weeks later, just staring at the chair sent jittery waves through her belly.
Her vivid imagination shot into overdrive. She could almost feel the cool kiss of leather against her naked skin and the tight clinch of the padded cuffs around her ankles and wrists. The thought of being bound to the chair, helpless and completely at Cal’s mercy, made her pussy pulse with need. Sticky wetness seeped between her bare thighs from sheer anticipation.
“Sit.”
Cal’s instruction sent white-hot shock waves through her core. Lily’s nipples stood at attention. She inhaled a shuddery breath and took a tentative step forward. Skimming her fingertips over the smooth wooden arm, Lily appreciated the beauty and craftsmanship of the chair. Only a hedonist like Cal would think to commission such a hybrid piece of furniture. Part bondage device and part sex toy, it was legendary among his rather kinky circle of friends.
Before Cal, Lily had only dabbled in the lightest of kink: A silk scarf binding her wrists to a headboard. An ice cube between her lover’s lips gliding over the swell of her breast. A few stinging smacks on her bottom in the heat of passion.
But then Cal had appeared in her life and introduced her to the sometimes painful but always exhilarating world of BDSM. That first night he’d broached the subject, Cal had taken her to his playroom and talked her through the various toys and implements. When he’d shown her the chair sitting in the corner on a raised platform, Lily’s curiosity had been piqued. What was hidden beneath the panels spanning the distance between the chair’s legs? And why did the platform require a power source? In that instant, she’d decided to accept the experience Cal offered and earn the privilege to sit on his prized piece.
“Lily.”
Cal’s prompt brought her back to the present. Fingers trembling with trepidation, she stepped onto the dais. Lily turned to face her lover and slowly sank down onto the wide seat. Her bare feet dangled above the platform. Her belly quivered with apprehension. She suddenly felt so young and inexperienced. Perhaps that was part of the design. Cal seemed to enjoy throwing her composure off kilter before every scene. There was something about embracing the unknown and giving her complete trust to him that amplified the experience and eventual release.
Perched on the chair, Lily eyed Cal as he moved out of the shadows. Tonight he remained fully dressed, a stark contrast to her vulnerable state and a clear reminder of his absolute control of the situation. He pocketed his platinum cufflinks and slowly rolled up the sleeves of his crisp shirt. Lily licked her lips and pressed her knees tightly together. She gripped the arms of the chair as Cal moved closer. Their gazes clashed as he wrapped the leather cuffs over her wrists. He didn’t break their mutual stare as he picked up the remote control and adjusted the tilt of the chair’s reclining back, pushing her hips up slightly.
He set aside the remote and knelt in front of the chair. Cal’s warm breath tickled her shins as he grazed his lips over her skin and placed kisses along the curves of her knees. He buckled her ankles to the legs of the chair, forcing her thighs wide open and baring the smoothly waxed lips of her cunt to his appreciative gaze. She recognized the fiery gleam in his eyes. He’d seen the evidence of her arousal, the shiny juices seeping from her and coating her skin.
Cal brushed his knuckles over her sex. “You always get so wet.”
“Only for you.”
Her breathless words brought a smile to his face. Cal leaned forward and nuzzled his nose in her dripping pussy. His pointed tongue swiped her slit, flicking the stiff nub aching so desperately for his touch. Lily tried to arch her hips to meet his prodding tongue but the bonds held her in place. She whimpered in protest but Cal simply wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and backed away from her.
Lily’s eyes widened as Cal removed the cloth covering the small table standing just to his left and revealed a variety of floggers, clamps and straps. She swallowed hard. He was going to drag this out and make her earn every mind-blowing orgasm.
Air hissed through her teeth at the first heavy thud of suede ribbons against her breasts. Cal wielded the flogger with the efficiency of a true master, his strikes caressing her naked skin. She arched into the flicks, loving the sensations the gentle warm-up swats evoked. Tendrils of arousal blossomed in the pit of her belly. Heat spread across her chest and down her softly sloped stomach.
BOOK: Surrender: Erotic Tales of Female Pleasure and Submission
3.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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