The Art of Submission (26 page)

“I want you
now
, Isabel.” I know the tone of my voice
reveals my need and I don’t give a shit. “Tell me you want me,
too.
Tell me
.” I need to hear
it from her. I’m holding her face and watching her mouth, waiting
for either approval or rejection.

“Dylan, take me.” She says with sleepy eyes
and a low raspy voice.

I need to hear her say it. “Say it, Isabel. I
need to hear you say it.”

“You know I want you. Take me.
Take me
.” She sounds frustrated and
her hands are on my back and I can feel her nails clawing into me
through my shirt and jacket.
Fuck
…
it feels so
good.

I pull her shirt off over her head
quickly and kiss her belly as I bend in front of her to get her
shoes off and remove her pants. I look up and see her watching me
with honey eyes. She runs her hands through my hair and I can feel
the chemical reaction she stirs within me. I pull her pants down
quickly and kiss and bite her thighs, pulling her by her hips to
me. I can smell her…. the scent of cherry blossom, jasmine and
peach
. My little Georgia peach wants
me
. Again, she’s wearing an alluring set of bra and
panties and it’s nice to know despite her lack of taste in
clothing, she looks amazing underneath it all. I slip my hand into
her panties and she’s so wet. Y
es - she
does want me.
I slide two fingers into her but she
immediately pulls me to stand up.

When I stand up, she starts frantically
fumbling with my tie to get it off. She’s taking too long and in my
impatience; I help her to get it off. Then she pushes my jacket off
and lets it fall to the floor. She practically tears off my shirt,
popping a few buttons along the way, and then pulls my undershirt
off over my head. I can hear her breathing get louder and more
frantic as she moves to my pants. She undoes my belt and removes
it, but then pauses as she lays it down next to her. I kick off my
shoes then she removes my pants and briefs. She’s kneeling in front
of me, looking up at me submissively, but with a devious gleam in
her eyes. She grips me firm and starts the slow torture of jacking
me off.
Fuck
… I start to run
my fingers through her hair, but then she abruptly stands up,
pushes me back towards the chair and pushes me into it. She steps
back just a step or two, never taking her eyes off of me and
reaches down for my belt.
What the
fuck?

“Isabel,
don’t
….” I can hear the uneasiness in my own
voice.

She puts her finger up to her mouth to
silence me with a “shhh” and it works. I’m frozen in the chair, my
cock standing at the 12 o’clock position. She smiles slyly at me,
licks her lips, and walks around towards the back of the
chair.
What the fuck is she
doing
?

She pulls my hands back behind me and I
can feel the belt loop around my wrists.
Holy fuck… she’s binding me
. The leather is cold
and it bites into my wrists painfully. Then she pulls the belt
tight, my hands jerking in a hard motion behind me.
Why am I letting her do this?
I feel
her lean down behind me and I feel her hair brush against my
shoulder as she pushes my head to one side and takes a bite at my
exposed neck.
Fucking hell -
the bite is intense and sharp and makes my breath hitch. Then
she runs her silky tongue along my neck where she just bit me and
up to my earlobe where she bites that, too. The feeling is
overpowering.

Then she whispers ever so softly in my ear,
“Good boy.”

Who the fuck is the
submissive here
?

As she walks back around in front of
me, Isabel is gone. The woman now standing in front of me is
someone different, someone more resolute and indomitable. Her eyes
are luminous and narrowed at me out of pure desire. I can’t take my
eyes off of her.
She’s so fucking gorgeous
right now.

“You don’t get to use your hands, Dylan. Do
you want to know why?” She asks in a soft seductive voice.

Of course I want to know. Yes, tell me.

“Do you? Say it then, Dylan…
say it
…” She says
sweetly.

“Tell me.” I don’t even recognize my own
voice.

“Tell me,
what
?”

Holy shit
. She
wants to hear me say it, the word I hate to say. Fine.
Fuck it
. I want her. I can’t take
this torture anymore.

“Tell me,
please
.”

She smiles wickedly at me and it makes me
feel like I would do anything this woman asked as long as she gave
me that smile.

“Because of the things you asked for in
the contract and because you spanked me without asking. Next time,
you ask me first.
Do you
understand
?” Her voice is smooth like butter, melodic
and irresistible.

Oh yes. I understand. Just fuck
me.
Please
…. My alter ego is
nowhere in sight and the way Isabel is making me feel right now; I
don’t miss him at all. She slowly stalks towards me with her
wildfire eyes scanning me up and down, her mouth slightly
open.

When she’s standing right in front of
me, she asks me, “What do you want me to do? Tell me.
I’ll do anything you
want
.

What? Now she’s asking? I’m tied up and
she’s asking me what
I
want?
Why is she asking me? I’m trying to hide my amusement and confusion
at her obvious inexperience.

“Because it’s polite to ask and because I’ve
never done this before.” She says timidly and then does that thing
with her hair that drives me fucking insane. I can’t help but smile
at her because I know she’s trying to make a point, which she’s
doing very well and also because I’ve never done this before
either.

“You’ll do
anything
I want?” I ask her and she answers me
with wide eyes and sincerity.

“Yes, Dylan.
Of course
. Tell me.” She says as she licks her
bottom lip.

Fuck
. What is
this woman doing to me?
Anything I want…
that’s what
. “I want your mouth.” I tell her and her
eyes light up.

“You told me that in a dream.”

She dreams about me? Nice.
So she’s not impervious to my
charms
. All at once she’s kneeling in front of me and
I’m in her mouth; in and out, wet and deep, her tongue dancing on
the head of my cock. I want so badly to touch her and to run my
hands through her hair, but I can’t because of this fucking belt
around me. It’s such a strange annoyingly erotic feeling not being
in control. Shit.
I don’t want to
cum
. I’m enjoying this too much.

“Stop, Isabel. Stand up.” I command and she
complies.

“Now take off your bra and
panties
. I want to see
you
.”

She’s being a very good at following my
commands, despite my not being in complete control. She slowly
takes them off and then suddenly looks self-conscious.

“You look amazing, sweetheart. Now get over
here and kneel on me.”

She smiles but looks slightly
bewildered by my request and then I see the lights go on as she
comprehends what I want. She mounts me, her knees on either side of
my legs on the chair, her belly on my chest and her breasts in my
face.
Yes, like this
. She
grabs my hair and pulls my face into her chest. I’m kissing and
biting her breasts, sucking on her nipples gently and then running
them trough my teeth. She moans loudly and pulls my hair.
It feels so good.
When I bite at her
nipples again, she pulls my hair harder and jerks my head back and
kisses me ravenously, our tongues intertwining and twisting
together.
I want so badly to touch
her
. Damn this belt. Why does it have to feel so good?
She pulls away from me and then gently kisses my bottom lip, once,
twice and then glides her slick tongue over it. Is this her way of
apologizing for so harshly biting it?
I
accept. Yes. I accept this apology.
She straightens up
so that she’s not leaning down, her breasts are above me and with
her hand, she reaches around behind her, grips me and slowly starts
to lower herself onto me. Whoa…
wait
.

“Isabel, wait. We need a
condom…”
Shit
. I don’t have
any here. I never have any with me at work. Why would I?

She smiles at me but then blushes, “I’m on
birth control, Dylan.”

What? Why the hell is she
on birth control?
I don’t want to ruin the moment;
I’ll have to ask her about that later. Anyway, right now I’m happy
to hear her say that. I thrust my hips upwards to try and meet her
and she counters my response by lowering herself onto me.
Fuck… she’s so wet and she feels so good.
She wraps her arms around my neck and leans her forehead onto
mine. I just want to wrap my arms around her and pull her down onto
me hard, but
this fucking
belt
… Just then she pushes down onto me hard and I
completely fill her. Damn -
she’s in my
head again.
She starts the tortuous rhythmic pace of
driving onto me, up and down. The feeling of being inside her, warm
and tight, the sound of her moaning, the sound of the chair
squeaking beneath us, and the sexy wet noises coming from our
fucking are pushing me to the edge. No
… I
don’t want to cum yet
….

Just when I think I’m going to let go,
she stops…
No!
… and stands
up and turns around…
Yes!
She
lowers herself onto me, sitting in a reverse cowgirl position, but
with her feet on the ground, placing her hands on my thighs for
leverage.
Holy fuck that’s
sexy
. She raises herself up and then down, slowly,
letting out short gasps and sighs. I thrust up to meet her and she
throws her head back and then leans back onto my chest, moving her
hands to my hips. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex
without a condom, but this feels so fucking good. The skin to skin
contact is maddening and arousing as hell. She moves her hands from
my hips up to her breasts and starts caressing them and pinching
her nipples as she continues pushing onto me.
She’s such a dirty little thing.

I keep thrusting into her, unrelenting.
I can tell she’s close; her breathing is ragged and her eyes are
closed tightly like she’s concentrating. Her head is resting on my
shoulder and her hair is in my face. I try to move it out of the
way the best I can without the use of my hands and then bite down
gently onto her neck. She jumps with surprise and then grinds down
onto me.
Yes
. She starts a
rhythmic dance with her hips, grinding and swirling them, around
and around, up and down.
I’m going to cum
soon
, I can feel it building in me.

I don’t want this exquisite torture to
stop just yet…
no… I have to
focus
. I start looking around the room. Suddenly, she
sits straight up, not leaning on me anymore and her pace increases.
Her hands are back on my hips and she’s coming down onto me hard,
then harder and she’s thrashing her head back and forth. She’s
panting loudly and I can tell
she’s really
close now.
I look around the room trying to find
something to take my mind off of coming and I see her
paintings…
fuck - why did I look over
there
? I feel my cum rising in me, threatening to
release.

“I’m going to cum, Isabel!” My voice is harsh
and loud.

“Yes, Dylan.” She says out of breath
and throaty. The wet sounds coming from us, her heavy breathing,
and the sound of my name are more than I can take. I thrust one
last time, hard, and feel myself cum deep in her
. Holy shit – the feeling is absolutely immeasurable.
Even though I’ve finished, she doesn’t stop her rhythm and
keeps pushing down onto me, over and over. Just a moment later, I
feel her muscles clench around me and she gets her release, too.
She howls something intelligible and falls back onto me,
motionless. We both just sit there winded like we’ve just run a
marathon, trying to catch our breath.

When we’ve finally caught our breath, I
lean over and nibble her ear and kiss her jaw. She slowly stands
up, pulling off of me gently. She walks around to the back of the
chair and releases the belt from my wrists. I immediately pull them
around to inspect and rub them. There are red welts where the belt
bit into my skin from me trying to pull my wrists apart and there
are rub burns around them. It’s painful and I massage them, trying
to bring life and blood flow back into them. I’ve seen these kinds
of markings many times before, just never on myself and the site of
them on my own body is…
unsettling
.