Master's Submission (3 page)

Why the self denial? Usually, Master prevented me from pleasuring myself. He wanted me to orgasm on his terms. But this wasn’t my Master. This was Dylan, my submissive. And a Mistress could stroke her clit whenever she damn well pleased. Earlier, I was too nervous to be aroused, but now, the pent-up lust broke free. Through the Lycra fabric, my fingers pressed against my nub in circular motions, and I moaned. It turned him on. Big-time. His eyes were glued to my pussy.

If I didn’t slow down, I’d orgasm within a minute. I lifted my skirt and dipped two fingers into my slit. God, I was soaking.

“Look at me. Listen. Can you hear how wet I am?” I asked in a throaty whisper, plunging my fingers into my pussy. “Do you want to do this for me? Do you want to put your fingers inside me?”

“Yes,” he said eagerly and stepped forward.

“Stop. I didn’t say you could. I asked if you wanted to.” I showed him one glistening finger, slipped it into my mouth, pulled it in and out, in and out, as if sucking his cock. “You’re only allowed to watch.”

Dylan’s cock, fully erect, beautifully long and thick, begged to be touched. But I’d make him wait, as he always made me wait. Because after being denied for a long period of time, the orgasm was so much more powerful, so much more intense, that my entire body felt as if it was splintering apart. I wanted him to experience that intensity for himself.

His hand grasped his shaft and began to stroke.

“No touching,” I ordered. “Or I’ll tie your hands behind your back.”

He stopped, and pure need registered on his face. Desire lit up his eyes as my fingers returned to my pussy. If I forced him to watch me orgasm, it would drive him mad. Should I?

Yes, I should. I hiked the skirt up to fully expose my shaved mound.
Watch me
. Faster and faster, my fingers worked in small circles on my clit.

Dylan’s chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened. He stared at my fingers as they brought me closer and closer to climax. He hungered for me.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

The words poured out. “I want to fuck you, Bethany. I want to fuck you hard. Until you scream. I don’t want you to come by yourself. I want to be inside you when—”

“Enough!” The denial was killing him. Yes! “I’m in control. I’ll come any way I please.” His pleading expression made my pussy throb. I teetered on the edge of orgasm. So close. Almost there. A rush of pleasure ignited within me, spreading through my body in waves. It grew more powerful, more intense. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensations. Moans escaped me. I pictured Dylan watching me, desperate to be inside my pussy. Gradually, the spasms diminished, growing fainter and fainter, until I returned to reality. It took me several seconds to get myself together.

When I opened my eyes, Dylan looked frustrated, let down. A strand of hair fell over his brow, and I wanted to walk over, brush it off and comfort him.

“Lie on the bed,” I said, panting.

He climbed onto the bedspread and lay on his back. Immediately, I straddled him, my skirt practically rolling itself up into a belt, and I rubbed myself against his cock, enjoying the last tingles of orgasm.

My orgasm. Not his. Mine.

He groaned as my juices covered his cock. “Fuck me, Mistress.”

“I’ll fuck you on my terms,” I said. “When I’m ready. Now put your hands over your head.”

He complied, and I read the expression on his face. Deeply aroused. Dying to feel my pussy clenched around his cock. Happy to let me proceed. Reaching over the edge of the bed, I pried a Velcro restraint from beneath the covers. I fastened the band around one wrist, making sure it was snug, not tight, and adjusted the straps so that he had a bit of slack. Just enough to make him comfortable. I followed the same procedure with his other hand. When I finished, Dylan smiled.

I pushed myself off his chest, shimmied out of the skirt and removed the Lycra top, deliberately and seductively cupping my breasts and tweaking my nipples.

“You’ve got a smoking-hot body,” he said.

I blushed. Even after being together for so many years, his compliments made me giddy. Now what to do with his legs? Kneeling between them, I considered my options. Spreader bar? No. It would get in the way, and I needed full access to his cock.

Restraints, then. “Bend your knees and keep them that way.” He did as I said. I secured restraints around both his ankles, double-checking the length of the straps. There. All tied up. I admired my work.

“Now that I’m at your mercy, may I ask what you have planned?” he asked with a wink.

“No, you may not.” I gave him a wicked grin.

“May I make suggestions?”

“No, you may not.” I was getting into this. Maybe a dominatrix was hiding inside me after all. She just needed to be unleashed. “The next part of the evening is all planned. I’m going to push your limits.”

Dylan laughed. “Are you?”

He thought I couldn’t do it. He thought I didn’t dare. There was one thing he had always told me he never, ever wanted to do, but I knew he’d enjoy it once he tried.

Dylan didn’t want his ass played with. Well, tonight his virgin ass would get played with plenty. Oh yes. After I got started, and he broke through the psychological barrier a lot of straight men had about ass play, he’d beg me to ease my finger inside him.

“Don’t look.” I took the toy and a few other necessities out of the bottom drawer and laid them next to me. A rubber glove. Lubricant. The butt plug. Simple and effective.

Before telling him what I planned to do, I better get him in the mood. It wouldn’t be difficult. Glad I decided to keep the ponytail, I leaned over, lapping at his balls until the flesh tightened. I alternated from one to the other, sucking gently before releasing them.

“Suck my cock,” he said hoarsely.

My automatic instinct was to run my tongue up his shaft.
No, don’t do it. He’s topping from the bottom again
. “Beg me.”

He raised his head to look at me. He hesitated.

“Come on, Dylan,” I teased, drunk on the power I had over him. “You’ll be glad you did.”

“Beg?” he questioned, as if I’d asked him for the moon.

“Yes, beg. Beg me, and I’ll do it,” I encouraged. “Say it.”

His lips moved, but the words didn’t come. Then they came out in a flood. “Please. Please suck my cock.”

“Good,” I said, “but not quite good enough. I didn’t hear the word ‘beg’.”

He grumbled and squirmed. His arms pulled against the restraints. The Dom in him wouldn’t let go. He needed to tap into the submissive side of his personality. He had to learn to surrender.

“Unless you try a little harder to obey your Mistress, these lips won’t go anywhere near your cock.”

“I-please-I mean….”

“Maybe I should make you watch me come all over again,” I goaded. “Should I? This time you’re tied up, so you can’t touch yourself even if you try.”

“No! I’m begging you, Mistress.” His hips bucked. “Please. I’m begging you. Please suck my cock!”

The urgency in his voice thrilled me. “Very good, Dylan.” I licked his erection all the way to the head and pressed down with the flat of my tongue, tasting the salty, glistening drops emerging from the small slit. Keeping my lips over my teeth, I took him as deep as I could. In this position, deep throating was difficult. But not impossible. Dylan had patiently trained me for months, until I could take every inch of him in my mouth. Angling his erection toward me, I went deeper, deeper, all the way in, past my gag reflex, until my lips brushed his pubic hair.

“Fuck, yeah, baby! All the way!”

I pulled back, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, teasing the frenulum. As I took all of him in again, I rubbed his balls with my fingertips. After a while my jaw started to ache, and I came up for air. Using my hands in long, rhythmic strokes, I kept an eye on Dylan’s facial features, gauging how close he was to orgasm. I didn’t want him to come. Not yet. I had to take ownership of his pleasure for a change and decide when he was permitted to have an orgasm. When he seemed ready to explode, his face contorting, his breaths quick and sharp, I stopped.

“Keep going! Don’t stop!” he called out.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “You don’t get to decide when you come. I do.”

Time to move on to the next phase, the one involving the butt plug. Anal penetration could be wonderful. It was up to me to teach him just how wonderful. My previous partner, less controlling than Dylan, asked me to do this for him on a regular basis, so I knew how to proceed to maximize Dylan’s pleasure. I put on a surgical glove, which snapped against my wrist.

“What’s that?” He sounded worried, and deep frown lines appeared between his brows. “Why do you need a glove?”

“To pleasure you.” I poured some lube on my fingers. Holding his balls out of the way with my left hand, I swirled my right index finger around his puckered hole.

“Bethany, it’s a no-go zone.” His voice sounded strained. “You know that.”

He attempted to turn over, but the restraints held firm. When he clamped his knees shut, all he managed to do was squeeze me firmly between them. I still had full access to his ass.

“No fucking way,” he said sternly, his erection wilting. “Forbidden zone.”

“Relax,” I breathed. “Let me guide you. Trust me.”

How many times had he said those same words to me? Whenever we tried something different, I hesitated. Nipple clamps. Ring gags. Clothespins. Every new adventure began with a healthy dose of hesitation on my part. In everyday life, I wasn’t a fearless go-getter. I was the one who waited in the shadows and needed to be led into the light.

“As your Mistress, I’m asking you to give me permission to try. I’m asking you to trust me the way I’ve always trusted you.”

His vise-like grip on my body relaxed. I held up the butt plug, one of the smaller silicone ones with a ring at the end where I could insert my finger. Barely three-inches long. Perfect for training purposes. He’d used it on me on countless occasions. “Remember this?”

“Your first butt plug.”

“Now it’s going to be yours.”

He exhaled loudly through his mouth. “No.”

“Let me start with a finger. Just a finger.” I never really expected him to agree to the butt plug. If he dismissed the plug, he might accept a finger. He used the same technique on me all the time. First he showed me the huge dildo, knowing I’d automatically say no, and then he showed me a less intimidating size, which I was far more likely to agree to.
You taught me well, Master
.

“A finger,” I repeated. “If you don’t like it, we’ll never try it again.”

His butt cheeks clenched tight.

“Trust me. Submit to me. Completely,” I whispered. “You’ve never led me astray, never pushed me too far. Surrender to me.” The words flowed out of me, as sweet as honey, because I’d heard them so often in the past.

He nodded. “All right. Only a finger.”

After applying extra lube to the glove, I gently probed his anus, massaging its outer rim, and penetrating one unhurried inch at a time. When his sphincter relaxed, I pushed deeper, locating the slight bulge that was his prostate. He didn’t know it yet, but when I started to rub, he’d go wild with pleasure, and if I sucked him at the same time, well, that would double the intensity of his orgasm.

I looked at his face. His features relaxed. He closed his eyes, and he seemed to be enjoying my probing finger.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“Good.” He didn’t say anything else.

Carefully, I inserted a second finger, finding the walnut-shaped gland and stroking in a regular rhythm. His erection returned to life, and I smiled, watching his cock lengthen and harden. Soon, I’d take him in my mouth again.

Dylan inhaled sharply. “Ahhhhh. Real good. Right there.”

“Like this?” I massaged the same spot, switching to circular motions.

“Ahhhh. Yes, Mistress.” He closed his eyes. The muscles in his thighs tensed. “Fucking fantastic. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

Just as I predicted, he was so into this. Pleasing him gave me a thrill like nothing else. “How about another blowjob, Dylan?”

“I’ll never say no to a blowjob, Mistress.”

I devoured him whole, taking him to the back of my throat, sucking faster and harder. When he moaned uncontrollably, I slowed to prolong his enjoyment. My fingers kept pace with my mouth, and I stroked in and out, focusing on the small gland.

Tonight, I decided when he had an orgasm. Not him. Me. Mistress Bethany.

I made him wait. And wait.

My tongue teased his cock, flattening against the head. Two fingers probed deep into his ass.

Now.

I raised my head and stared into his eyes. “You can come now.”

I took him deep, hollowing my cheeks and continuing to suck. He was close. So close. His hips thrust forward, and hot cum streamed to the back of my throat. Greedily, I swallowed. More liquid spurted on my tongue. Shudders spread through Dylan’s body, and when he finally lay still, I gave his cock one final lick and let it rest against his thigh. I slipped my fingers out of his ass and removed the glove.