The Art of Submission (28 page)

Suddenly he pushes up into me hard and
the feeling is almost too much to take and I have to lean back onto
him to ease the intense sensation and pain. I slowly keep up the
pace, trying not to lose the feeling, but also trying not to lose
complete control of myself. I’m concentrating hard when I feel him
shift his head a bit and then bite down onto my neck. It startles
me and I counter by grinding down onto him. My body takes over. I
start touching my breasts and my hips do an exotic dance I didn’t
know was possible. The powerful sensation is sending shivers the
entire length of my body, inside and out.
I’m close, I can feel it
. I start driving down
onto him harder and harder, the pain and the pleasure taking over
and causing an uproar in my body and my mind.
Oh yes…. I’m can feel it… right there…

“I’m going to cum, Isabel!”

His voice pulls me back to reality but the
harshness and pure lust in his voice are blissful and only adds to
my stimulation. “Yes, Dylan.”

His breathing has spiked, he moans and
thrusts into me one last hard time, and I feel him cum inside me.
The warm wetness inside me is mind-blowing.
I’m almost there… just a little more…
I feel my
body tense up and then I cum, too. I hear myself yell something
garbled and I fall back onto Dylan’s chest, quivering
uncontrollably. We both lay like that not saying a word, our breath
slowing.

Holy sweet
spot
, that was unbelievable.

As much as I enjoy him in this
position, I suppose I’d better untie him. I walk around behind him
and undo his belt and immediately see the markings that it’s left
behind.
Oh no.
They look
painful. He pulls his arms around and starts rubbing his wrists and
looking them over. He looks uneasy and troubled by the site of
them. When he looks up at me, I half expect him to lash out at me
so I take a step back to give us some distance. Abruptly he reaches
towards me,
shit - he’s going to hit
me.
All of a sudden, I feel like I did when I was a
child just before my father would find a reason to take the belt to
me. I feel like running or crying, or both.

“
Isabel, I’m not going to hurt
you.”

I’ve heard
that
before. His eyes soften and he pulls me
onto his lap. I can’t bring myself to look at him. He’s pissed, I
just know it. I don’t want him to be angry with me.

“Please don’t be angry with me, Dylan.” I
tell him when he forces me to look at him.

“Why would I be angry with you? That
was fucking amazing.
You
were
amazing.”

Again with the amazing? Is he serious?

“Are
you
angry with
me
?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows.

I don’t understand this man at all. I
mean, yes, I was, but I’m not anymore. It doesn’t make any sense at
all. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never done anything
like this before. I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know what
he wants to hear from me.
I’m so
conflicted.

“
You and me both, sweetheart.” His eyes
are back to cool blue and his mouth is beckoning me once more. Damn
this man. Damn him for the way he makes me feel. Damn him for
buying my paintings. Damn him for that contract.

“So you didn’t like my proposed
contract?”

What?
How does
he do that?
Am I that transparent? I can’t hide my
emotions and I roll my eyes at him. Duh. “Seriously Dylan, most of
that thing is absurd. What were you thinking?”

Oh yeah, and damn him for laughing at me when
I’m not trying to be funny.

“A man can hope and dream,
Isabel.”
He says shrugging his shoulders and looking
only slightly defeated.

Hope?
Does
that mean he doesn’t really expect all of those things? Does this
mean that the all-businessman Dylan Young is willing to – dare I
say it -
negotiate
?
Oh joy!
The sound of his laughter
and the thought of his possible concession make me laugh out loud
with sheer happiness.

I can only imagine what we look like, sitting
there in his office, totally naked and laughing like a couple of
sex-crazed morons. I’m too happy - I can’t think about that right
now.

Dylan

After our short-lived laughing fit,
Isabel surprises me by grabbing my face, looking straight into my
eyes and telling me, “I want this to work between us, Dylan.
Whatever
this
is.”

Yes, me too.
Her eyes are intense and she scans my face looking for some
kind of explanation of what
this
is. I’m not even sure what exactly
this
is, either, but I like it. When I don’t
respond to her, she stands up, grabs her clothes and asks where the
restroom is. I don’t want her to leave, I just want to sit here and
enjoy the moment, but she looks determined. I point the way and she
disappears. I sit stunned for a moment, trying to make sense of
what I’m feeling.

I get up and grab my clothes and get dressed
quickly. Without thinking, I walk towards Isabel’s paintings and
take one down from the wall. She deserves this much for everything
that just happened. I’ll give it to her as a peace offering, hoping
that she’ll consider my contract once she’s sees that I’m amenable.
I try to straighten my clothes and make myself presentable and I
wait for her by my desk.

When she comes out of my private
restroom, she looks different somehow; more confident and her
coloring is striking. Her cheeks are flushed and her normally
unruly halo now looks uncontained in a just-got-fucked kind of way.
I feel my cock tremble just looking at her. Damn.
Concentrate Young.
When she sees me
holding her painting, she halts and I see a small smile play on the
corners of her mouth.

“This is for you. It’s the least I could do
after the way I acted earlier.”

“You don’t want it anymore?” She asks
bewildered.

“Oh yes, I still want it, but I know
how much it means to you. I want this to work between us, too,
Isabel. Whatever
this
is.”

She walks towards me, takes the
painting, lays it down on my desk and hugs me. I didn’t expect this
kind of reaction from her.
Her arms feel
so good around me.
I half hug her back, feeling
awkward and unsure about this display of emotion. She must sense my
hesitation because she pulls away and then apologizes.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything…. I… I just
wanted to thank you is all.” She looks embarrassed.

Shit. Why did I
hesitate?
Now she’s not looking me in the eyes
anymore.
Nice going,
Dylan
.

“I should go now.” She says abruptly,
grabbing her painting and heading towards the door.

No. I want her to stay, but my mouth
isn’t cooperating and I just stand there like an asshole, not
saying anything.
Fuck
. She
picks up her bag and opens the door to leave.
Fuck, fuck, fuck
.

“Isabel, wait. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Finally, my brain and mouth are communicating again.

“No, I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

What? No? She just said no to me?

She heads out my office door hurriedly. I
grab my messenger bag and keys and catch up with her just as she’s
getting on the elevator. As we go down, she’s fidgeting with her
bag, then her shirt, and then finally her hair. She’s nervous and
she won’t make eye contact with me. I, on the other hand, just
stand gawking at her. She’s so adorable when she’s uncomfortable
and nervous. Finally, she looks up at me and gives me a quick
smile. When the elevator arrives on the main level, she rushes out
hastily and stumbles, dropping her bag and nearly crashing head
long onto the concrete floor. I quickly grab her upper arm and
avert a potential injury.

“Jesus, Isabel. Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I’m such a klutz
sometimes. I just couldn’t stand being in that elevator alone with
you… um… I mean… I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that…”
She stutters.

“Yes? What did you mean?”

“Oh never mind.” She says as her face
turns a bright red color. She’s flustered and I have to resist
laughing at her because I know exactly what she meant. As she bends
down to pick up her bag, I’m treated with a perfect view of her
fine ass. I feel myself getting stiff at the thought of what I just
did to it and the amazing shade of pink it must’ve turned then.
When she stands back up she immediately heads towards the revolving
doors and I follow her like a lost puppy dog.
Fuck Dylan, show some dignity man!
I hear my
alter ego screaming at me. And where the fuck was he earlier
anyway?
Fuck that. I want
her
.

As we get outside, she starts scanning the
street for a cab.

“Isabel, this is ridiculous. Let me take you
home.”

She’s still looking around and
completely ignoring me.
Fucking
hell
. I finally pull her to me, forcing her to look at
me.

“No Dylan... that’s not…” she trails off as
she feels my hardened state and then looks down at it. I’m standing
in the middle of the sidewalk with an erection and she just stands
there staring at it like it’s a sideshow attraction. I grab her
chin and raise her face to look at me and she blinks furiously.

“You
really
need to let me take you home and I’m not
asking.” I grab her hand and lead her towards the garage. My balls
have descended again and I feel more in my comfort zone being in
charge, and like the good submissive that she
should
be, she doesn’t resist me this
time.

When we arrive at my car she asks, “Another
car? How many do you have?”

I tell her I only have five and that a couple
of them are classics. This time, she’s the one laughing.

“Gee,
only
five?” She says rolling her eyes at me
again.

What the hell?
Most women are impressed when I say that, but then again,
this is Isabel I’m talking about; she’s never impressed with me. As
we leave, I decide instead to take her to my place. I want her to
see the dungeon once and for all and also I want to discuss the
contract. I hope she wasn’t serious about waiting until the end of
the week, because I can’t wait to have her as my submissive any
longer. I need to know, one way or the other, if she’s in or out.
As we’re driving, I see her looking around dubiously, realizing
that I’m not taking her home.

“Where are we going?” She asks looking at me
speculatively.

“My place. I want to show you something.”

I see her hesitate a little and so I
suggest we stop and pick up take out, hoping maybe this will calm
her nerves a bit. It seems to work. She’s looking out the side
window not saying anything and I wonder what she’s thinking about.
Probably the same thing I am – about what we just did in my
office.
Yes – that was nice.
Then I remember her mention of being on birth
control.

“So why are you on birth control Isabel?” I
do my best not to sound accusatory as that’s not my intention.

She looks surprised at my sudden personal
interrogation and she just sits staring at me with wide eyes. I
squeeze her knee and give her a small smile to assure her I don’t
want to argue.

“I have… female issues.” She says
hesitantly.

Oh? What the fuck does that mean? “I thought
all females had issues.”

“
The only issues females have
are
men
.” She says
matter-of-factly.

Touché, Isabel. She does have a sharp tongue.
“Is that what you have, Isabel, men issues?”

“The only men issues I have are attracting
the wrong types.” She says staring at me.

Okay. So I’m the wrong type?

“Look, this is coming out all wrong. I
don’t mean that
you’re
the
wrong type…” She says trying to explain herself.

This woman is in my head again. How the fuck
does she do that? She continues before I have the chance to
interject.

“If you really must know, I take the pill to
regulate my, you know… my… monthly cycle because…” She sounds
embarrassed and I see her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink, but
she stops and I can see she’s holding something back.

“Because of what, sweetheart?”

She smiles at me though I’m not sure why, but
she still hesitates. “Because of something that happened when I was
younger. It’s not for any other reason, Dylan, if that’s what
you’re thinking.”

It’s obvious she’s getting irritated
and I don’t want to upset her. What was the
something
? Did someone hurt her? Is that what
she means? I feel myself get incensed at the thought.
Who the fuck hurt her?
Before I can
stop myself, it’s out.

“Did someone hurt you?” I know her
answer by the look on her face.
Holy
fuck.
Someone did hurt her. Who? Stay calm…
stay calm.
She looks away and isn’t
answering me. I shouldn’t have asked. I hardly know her and I don’t
want to push her away with my intrusiveness. I squeeze her hand
trying to elicit an answer from her.