Trust Me to Know You (13 page)

“
Down
!”

I squatted down on knees. He inspected me as if I was in a dog show.

“Good. This is the position you will adopt when I send you here, right here front of the divan like this. You may adjust your position if your legs go numb. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Rituals, protocols and rule: I had been given many variants in my time as a submissive. Sometimes protocols could be stringent, exacting and laid out in fine detail, while others had chosen to be in minimalist in their rules but always strictly enforced them. I ruminated on where Jason would sit on the spectrum and decided probably the latter. He had already pointed out he did not have time for the minutiae of controlling my life, so I expected he would prefer to focus his attention on a few pertinent rules. As he continued to speak and instruct me, I was finding the requirements made me sink into a place of contentment as if a swirl of thoughts had been drained out of me down an invisible plughole. My pleasant place of emptiness and calm was being rapidly established and with it came my sexual awakening.

“You will not come or masturbate at any time without my permission,” his voice exuded from his mouth like treacle with a sharp edge that made my blood rush.

“While we are in this room or in role elsewhere you will not speak to me unless I ask you a direct question. The exception to this rule is if you need to safe-word or beg for me to let you come.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We can use traffic light safe-words – red for stop, yellow for mercy - unless you have others you prefer?”

“Traffic lights are good for me, sir. I’ve used them in the past.” Along with many others. I had phases, in the past, of using silly words for safe-words. Not any longer, I took them very seriously.

“You will keep yourself clean, well prepared for me and be clear of pubic hair at all times.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Normally once in play you will do whatever I require. Due to your specific
history, I as your dom,
will always seek your consent before penetrating you.
Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir. I trust you.”

“I won’t use a cane on you or fuck you over the whipping bench. Don’t worry yourself about that.”

I felt myself unwind with a sense of huge relief.

His face remained unchanged, stern and aloof. “I fuck hard in here, if you want love-making, you’re not going to get it here understand? We keep that for the bedroom.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

I was a quivering wreck already, and he had not
laid a finger on me. The whole control thing I found deeply arousing and comforting. I could let him take over and try to please him with my body.

“Are there any protocols you would like to incorporate? To help with your submission?” he asked.

“Um,” I thought for a few seconds and failed to come up with anything significant. “Nothing you haven’t covered, sir. Aftercare is important to me and I like to keep my hair tied back. Somebody once caught it in the ropes and it hurt like hell.”

Jason smiled. “Aftercare, sure. I like a ponytail too, good for a little hair pulling. You like hair pulling.”

I gave him a little gleeful smile; he had a good memory. If I thought of any other rules, it would be for later when we were more established. I preferred that he initiated the conversation, as I was rubbish at taking responsibility for rules. Something I might come to regret.

“I’ve got quite a repertoire of scenes,” continued Jason, “built up over the years, so I’m going to take you through a number of them gradually. If I do something experimental,
I will explain and you can guide me too. Why are you here
, Gemma?”

“To serve, obey and please you, sir,” I said clearly.

Jason stood up and fetched something from a drawer. Sitting back down in front of me,
he held them up in front of me.
Handcuffs
! He showed me the key and put it on the
divan next to him. Restraints
meant a return to bondage practices. For a few moments,
the handcuffs unnerved me. Their purpose was not to hold me in place, but to make me helpless and reinforce my submission. Jason picked them up and held them out to me.

“Put them on me. Go
on.”

I did as he asked and they clicked around his wrists.

“There. See, nothing to worry about. Release me.”

I turned the key in the small lock and handed them back to him. I understood that he had shown me that he trusted me and I should trust him.

“Stand up and turn around.”

He snapped the handcuffs over my wrists and sliding his finger around the metal clasp, he checked they were not too tight. He took my arm and pulled me over his lap, my head resting on the divan, my legs on the other side of him.

“I am going to spank you, and then
I’m going to tease you out for a while. We know each other well, but not with toys. I want you to enjoy the spanking and come for me. If the pain becomes too much I want you to tell me. We could try a scoring system to help you ease back into receiving pain if it helps you?”

“I’m alright, sir. Pleasurable spanking I can manage.”

Oh my
, I shut my eyes and waited.

Slap
.

His hand landed on my bottom and I jumped slightly. He stroked my cheeks, making small circles dispersing the discomfort from the blow.

Slap
.

As Jason repeated the action, he parted my legs and touched
me. A quiver went all over me. From the moment we entered the room
,
I could have come.
Before we had even brought me in here and after our long discussion about sex toys, limits, scenes I had experienced and bondage preferences, I was a desperate smouldering wreck with all my sex organs at full throttle.

“You’re very responsive to my touch. I like this, Gemma.”

I knew he did, his lap was hardening below me. Jason was happy,
oh yes
!

He continued with spanking me for several minutes. The blows were not excessively painful, on the contrary,
the sensation was incredibly sensual and affecting. He accompanied the smacks with his teasing fingers, probing and massaging my tender parts. I started to build, heading towards the release my coiled body needed so badly. He put two fingers inside me and began to move them in and out rhythmically.

“I own this,
Gemma. Your body is my possession. When we aren’t together, I still own you,
all of you. You’re mine.”

The words sounded harsh, controlling but his tone was nothing more than very
seductive. He resumed his spanking with harder blows.

I buried my head into the divan as each well placed blow landed on the fold between my thighs and buttocks. The accumulation of erotic conversation and being in his personal fucking room was too much to control. No, that was the point, I
was not
in control. He had taken me and I gave him what he asked for.

“
Oh God
, I’m coming,
sir,” before he could change his mind, I orgasm violently. Scrunching my knees up and flexing my muscles as if in the throes of cramps. Writhing and reeling on his lap, he held me
to stop me falling off.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” I mouthed into the divan.

“Whoa, Gem, that’s some orgasm,” he chuckled.

When I had come down, he pushed me off his lap, so I was kneeling back on the floor.

“I’d forgotten how much I enjoy a nice spanking,” I said with my face glowing.

“A
nice
spanking. Keep out of trouble and that’s what they will be like.” A veiled threat.
“My turn I think for pleasure.”

He unzipped his fly and his erection stood out hard and pulsating. His t-shirt came off and deposited next to him. He took me by the ponytail and pulled my head toward him. I opened my mouth ready to receive him.

Oral sex. Blow-jobs.
It was not always
the best form of intercourse for me.
I could not orgasm for one thing as I needed the direct stimulation
. It was also hard work.
The jaw aching from holding it wide open. The t
eeth tucked away as catching your teeth on his skin was a big no-no. My tongue and lips would become like sand paper, depending how long he could keep himself going and how deep he shoved down my throat. Then there was the gagging, suffocating deep thrusts
and I
was forced to hold my breath. The saliva would become ridiculously copious, drooling down my chin on to the floor below. Messy faced with watery eyes from the ga
gging, a common outcome of a blow-job. If he held my ponytail to gain leverage,
my scalp stung as the hairs were yanked back and forth. The kneecaps started to hurt and my neck strained from looking up at him. A required position for a
tamed submissive.

There was a major plus side. I felt his domination reign supreme over me. I was turned on and devouring him, giving him what he wanted. It was what I wanted to do -
worship him. The physical discomforts were obliterated in an instant.
I also had the opportunity to stare up at him and see all those muscles. From groin to neck, Jason was a festoon of well-defined
musculature. The abs were to die for and his shoulders were square shaped powerhouses.
His chest was strangely hairless without looking too young or adolescent. His face alternated between eyes shut and staring back at me with a
muted face of expressions. I must be giving him pleasure. I prayed
it was the case as it
was what gave me my kicks for doing this. Seeing him stand over me and loving my mouth on his cock. He
made little purring guttural noises occasionally, the sound of a motor running in his throat.

The end came when he grabbed his erection and holding it away from my face, he ejaculated on to my tongue, which was stuck out ready to receive his warm seed.

“Good girl,” he patted me like a dog and gave me a smile.

Phew
! He was happy.

I had lost track of time, an hour, or maybe two,
later, I was sprawled on the four posters, lying in a sticky mess.
I had been well used and most definitely teased. Jason was in the shower, cleansing his body of the fluids that
must had covered him. Before he went to shower
, he had removed the cuffs, which had held me pinned spread-eagled on the bed. On the floor was a range of toys that he had been tormenting me with over the last hour or so.

He had talked me through the session, later ones he would be nothing but minimalist in his speech. On my first session with my new dominant, he had
provided selective words of encouragement, aware of my nerves and unfamiliarity with his techniques. To be made helpless and vulnerable with restraints was a test of my trust in him. The addition of the blindfold
had been
briefly crippling. My chest rose and fell rapidly as he descended me into darkness. Then I
had remembered how joyous vanilla sex was with him, and how he made me feel relaxed and confident in his company.

His hand had caressed against my flesh and his voice had been firm but reassuring.

“Remember your safe-words. I trust you to use them wisely and without fear.”

His trust in me, had
reminded me that this play was about mutual trust. I
had taken a deep breath and let him lose on my stretched body.

Orgasm denial was apparently a passion of his and he had
enjoyed keeping me on the brink. No amount of begging
had budged
him as he used vibrating wands and feathers on me. For a duration he
had focused on my arse and I had found I seriously did not like what he was doing down there.

~

What the hell was he inserting inside me!

A bloody cannonball!?
Christ, whatever he was using was heavy and made me feel stretched to my groin. Not painful but I did not like the sensation one bit and I was panicky.

“No!
No
!” I shrieked as the weight sank further up my bum. Nothing happened - he did not stop.

He was ignoring my protestations and I was about to test his respect for me.

“
Yellow
!” I shouted, perhaps too loudly.

“What?” came the surprised reply.

“Please take it out, Jason. Whatever that is, out!” I yelled at him.

I waited as he eased the intrusion out of my posterior. Lifting up my blindfold, he showed me the big metal anal butt plug.

Oh my God! How did he managed to push that inside me!

“Too heavy?” he asked sweetly. “It went up nice and easy, very smooth surface.”

“Well it isn’t going up me again. That one is not going near my arse, you can stuff it up yours,” I said angrily. “You can forget it. You didn’t mention you had heavy duty plugs. I don’t do them. No anal hooks either!”

“You’ve said that. I didn’t think you meant all metal plugs.”

“It’s like foil on the fillings, really gives me the creeps.”

“I don’t have fillings, so I’ll take your word for it.”

Bastard!
Did not the man have anything wrong with him?

“I have a sweet tooth,” I confessed.

“I can train that out of you if you like,” he offered with a grin.

“Er. No. I like my bad habits.” No way was he controlling my diet. I dreaded to think of his tactics for weaning me off my taste for sweets and chocolates.

He went over to the drawer and retrieved something else – anal beads. I sighed with relief.

“Better?”

“Much. Alright I’m ready.” The blindfold slipped back down in place.

~

He had flogged me too, not hard, as he had
used a flogger of soft suede.
A very pleasurable experience and he had judged the blows beautifully. Twice he had fucked me, each time asking in a cursory fashion for my consent, which I had given
readily. He
had
quickly thrust inside, withdrawing to cover me with his semen, hence the sticky mess.
Lastly, with me howling in a frenzy of unrequited need he had given me
permission. I
had practically blacked out with the intensity, he had not even needed to penetrate me, just tickled me with his oh so clever tongue.