Red Hot Obsessions (205 page)

“I may lend your body to another person for training purposes, for both you and myself, but it will be your choice and you will never be asked or ordered to service anyone, unless that is your fantasy and/or desire. I am greedy for your sexual gratification and satisfaction and don’t like to share, but if it is your fantasy, I will make an allowance for group play with me present but not until you are come-trained.”

Come-trained?

“You may call me your Dom, and you
will
refer to me as Sir or my Lord, and, also Logan, when you are given specific permission to do so, like when we are out in public. For protocol, I prefer no formality in front of vanillas but would like reverence for me and other Dominants in the title of their choice when at munches, clubs, parties and homes where BDSM is practiced. However, you would
not
be required to submit to them. You’d be my sub, and mine alone.”

I loved the sound of that.
His.

“I have a distaste for the word Master, so don’t use it. I think because it comes with baggage and puts me in the scene and lowers you to a slave, when all I want to do is lord over
you
, not join some kink organization or fit into someone else’s expectation for me, and the same goes for your eyes. As I see it, a slave is forced to serve or aims to serve his or her Master and their titillation is found in the degradation and ownership, and a sub willingly submits because delight is found through their desire to please and be dominated. And you are a submissive who wants to adore and be adored, and that’s the difference, that’s what’s most beautiful to me about you and what makes you so irresistible, so I will never consider or call you my slave.

“On that first night, I couldn’t believe Little Miss Kitten was in
my
house, melting at the word spanking, unfreaking able to say it. I tested you when I told you to get that chair, and you did it. And also, when I started to touch you and you didn’t raise even a peep. And you just kept on complying and yielding to me, no matter what I asked, even going so far as to tell me to belt your clit in front of strangers. It’s taken me a while to discover what my hang-up was, why I couldn’t jump in fully, and it was mostly because, no, it was
entirely
because I’ve never encountered anyone as eager to please me as you. You’ve been begging me to make you mine for days. Dominating someone fulltime is nothing to take lightly. It’s a big responsibility and honor. I have given this a lot of consideration, and I’m done fighting. You got me. I’m in.

“But, this is what you might not like. It’s my make-or-break condition, the thing I know will stretch you the most. With the exception of today—which will be the kick start of your training, if you’re still in—we will spend every Sunday together, in some way, and on Sundays you
must
break out of submission, unless we are invited to a BDSM event that happens to fall on a Sunday. Since this will be way more than roleplay for us, I have to have more than just a kinky lifestyle with you. I want you entirely. You will be my sub, my girlfriend, my friend and my lover. Many people can do just D/s thing and be happy, but I can’t, I need the romance and fun too. Anything less would leave me empty, and I don’t want to become consumed by my lusts. That is my biggest fear.”

I
melted
at all his labels for me, all his lovely boxes.
He wants me!

“You are fascinating and bright and full of spunk, and I want to know what makes you laugh, what scares you most, what you like on top of your ice cream, and what kind of music speaks to your soul. And I can’t know these things or the millions of other things I’m curious about unless you’re free to show me and express them. And knowing you deeper will only help me to push and mold you more effectively. So, I want one normal day each week to chill and relax and laugh, where I can be Logan and you, simply, the girl I adore. You will be free to touch me any way you want, as any girlfriend would,
but
you must say everything that pops into your head, no matter how filthy or lame or silly or sassy you think it is. You lied to me in the woods and in my car and in my bathtub. No more lying or holding back. I can see it in your eyes and on your face when you do. I desire, greatly, to know the girl beyond and beneath my submissive and that requires your complete honesty and disclosure. I want you to keep a journal in some way and email it to me or hand it to me every Sunday. I need to know how you’re feeling going into and after a scene. I want to know all your dirty thoughts. This is vitally important to me, to know the real you, so if I catch you suppressing your desires or even suspect you are doing it, I will immediately leave and won’t see you for the rest of the week. I know this will be a struggle for you, to shut off, so if you know in your gut you can’t do this and require a constant state of being with no lapses, I can help you find a Dom that’s more compatible with your needs.”

“Hell no!” I slapped my mouth. “I’m cool with that. Totally. I want you!”

“Still?”

“Always.”

He smiled and shoved the pad of his thumb against my vagina, right where it throbbed and dripped. The surprise of his sudden action made me gasp and my toes curl. His teasing swirl wouldn’t go in, it kept skimming, skimming, skimming the edges of a wet hole that ached to be royally pounded.

I closed my eyes and tilted my chin back.

“No, look at me. I haven’t given you permission to sink into yourself.” When I looked back at him he said, “Then, since you’re sticking with
me
, and we will become a THIS, you
will
say, ‘daisies’ if you want me to slow down but continue, ‘lilacs’ if you’ve reached your limit, which might get you a couple more swats and licks to wrap up, ‘puppies’ if you’re at your limit but want me to push you past it, and ‘torque’ if you need me to immediately stop. I just want to stress, that it will
not
disappoint me if you need to stop. So don’t be hesitant to speak up. I can’t know your limits or tastes unless you vocalize, especially at first. And since you’re a virgin, maybe you don’t know entirely what they are either. Again, I stress, I will practice safety at all times and aim to give you what you want and need out of this, which means you can set your own hard limits and change them up as you desire, and I will respect them.
I
will be the one to take care of your sexual needs, and you will do the same for me … except I retain the freedom to jerk off when I want to or go to strip clubs.”

“Yes, Sir. That is all fine with me.” I frowned at the thought of him going to strip clubs, but I should take delight in my Sir finding pleasure in whatever pleases him, even if it stings. Someday, such a thing will no longer sting, and his pleasure, and his alone, will be my greatest pleasure. I tingled at the kind of selflessness I could actually attain.

He switched to fondling me inside with his fingers, first one, then two, driving them in.

“Mmm. Thank you, Sir.”

“I will not do anything extreme to your body, like clamping, that I have not been properly trained to do, which I have
not
on that note. And I will get your opinion first before engaging in edgier endeavors, but I just want you to know that my tastes and desires do not run extreme. I have found a most excellent store with clerks who give instruction and demonstrations and even let me sample their wares and train there. It’s where I mastered the art of flogging.”

Good god. My mouth juiced up, and I squeezed his fingers.

“Mmm. I thought you might like that bit of info. Everyone who works there is in the culture, each with their own collection of all the best toys. Would you like me to take you? Would it make your pussy warm and tingly to be able to shove thing after thing into tight, willing spaces and spank raised-up, bent over, tilted back asses ... or to have me try out all my new pet toys on you while they watch?”

“Fffffuuuhh, yes, it would. Uh, I’m so hot, Logan. I mean,
Sir
. I’d love,
love
to go.”

He laughed. “I know very well how turned on you are. I knew you’d like the idea. We will go then.” He pumped his fingers in and out of me, dragging all the way out, and then punching my lips with hard thrusts.

“Uuuhh! That feels wonderful, Sir.”

“Spread your legs more. Now, tell me what you want, what you hope for, what you’re into and opposed to.”

Now opened wider, I wanted so badly to raise my head back and give way to his touch, but I locked his gaze like
he
wanted. “I want to … Aaahh…Mmm.”

“To?”

“...to … sex up your body and be your dirty, little slut. I want to bow at your feet and kiss them. I want to rub you from top to bottom with baby oil or lotion, applied by only my tits. I want you to stand over me or sit across from me and watch all the ways I can make myself come. It was hard but I’ve been working on G-spot stimulation this week and I want to show you how climaxes can build, that is if you let me come. I want to please you orally, in every possible place you can imagine, or that you will allow—the more bold and dangerous, the better. And I want you to go Dom on me, out in the open air in broad daylight, even if people are around to witness my humiliation and punishment, and also at night on some balcony in New York City, where I want you to spank and paddle and finger me senseless and force me to swallow your cock and cum. I want that whole goddamn city to know and see what a bad girl I am, and to know that I am your perfectly punished sub.”

“Damn. I love the twisted way your mind works.” He seized my wrist and forced my fingers around his rigid dick. Through clenched teeth he said, “See how stiff you’ve made me, bad girl? What else? Do you have any other fetishes besides spanking?”

“Not that I know of. Guess I will find out once we get going.” He felt amazing. I gripped him and rubbed him through his pants, not wanting to let go. “I’m cool with roleplay for our scenes. I’d prefer that actually, for the most part, but I want to go all out with costumes, props and everything. I’m game to any scenarios except the incestuous kind—’cause the last thing in the world I wanna be thinking about is my parents when I’m in the mind for kink. I want to write my own sub lit and poetry and read it to you while you spatula-slap my pussy. Things I’m not into that I can say right now: I don’t want to bleed, maybe a little, but not all up and down my body. No piercing or needle play. I’m not into potty stuff at all, I’ll do hoods maybe but
no
face masks or anything that would make me feel likewise smothered, no extreme torture. I’m freaked out about anal sex but not entirely opposed to it, if you know what you’re doing and use care. And most people would squawk about the true state of my virginity since I’ve had oral, but I consider myself to be one because I’ve never had actual, vaginal sex. So if you ever
decide
to sex me up, I want my first time to stem from passion. I don’t want to be a fuck-toy, a sub, not that first time. I don’t want to be forced or commanded or encouraged to just lay there and be fucked. I want to be engaged in it, sexy, wild and free. You said ‘lover’. You gave me a lover box, so I’m hoping that means you’re okay with what I want.”

“That’s fine.” He did not look happy though and ripped my hand away from his bulge. “Enough. Hand back over your head with the other. Go on.”

I slid my hand back and my eyes prickled with forming tears. I was so confused as to why he was suddenly curt. “Um, you are the only person to ever spank me, so, obviously, I haven’t been subject to the full spectrum of implements, but I prefer the sound and would most likely prefer the feel of the heartier ones, versus the thin, willowy ones like switches and canes that just leave you with a ton of stripes, welts and gashes. I am willing to try them if you wish, but I really don’t think I will enjoy or learn from it.”

“Fair enough. What about licorice?”

I stopped breathing for several seconds, just long enough to stuff my eyes back into my head. When I started up again, my lungs went spastic. I ached to reach down and clutch myself so I wouldn’t soak his couch more than I already was.
Licorice?
One I’d never thought of, and I was juicing up over the fact that he had. Until this second, I wasn’t totally positive if spanking was a fetish for him, but him considering creative implements meant that it was, and that only made getting them more delicious. I craved to arch my back and push down on him, to beg him to bring me to orgasm right NOW. “Yes!”

“Plastic hangers?”

“Why not.”

“Crops, floggers, slippers, wet towels, kitchen gadgets galore?”

“Aaaahh, yes. All yes.”

“Not a spanking tool, but how about the violet wand? Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, I do. It freaks me out, but maybe it would be okay. I’ll think on that one. I want to see a demo.”

“I know you cherish the hand, the paddle, the belt and the brush. How about single-tailed whips?”

“Um, it depends on the type and how hard it’s used. What I don’t want is to be covered in lines, gashes and cuts that last for days or maybe even forever. What I love most about spanking is the heat and the building sting, a robust hit and the patches of pink that grow and glow, and a whip just doesn’t provide all that.”

“Mmm. We seem to have the same idea about spank beauty, overall, but I think you might need the whip, Addison, who knows, but I would not want to be left shorthanded should you require that kind of discipline. And by discipline, I mean correction that pushes your growth. It can be a very useful tool in your training and it can be a very bonding, erotic and even spiritual experience between a Dom and a sub. It is an extension of the Dom to the sub. Maybe a few whip lines are just what you need. As I said, I haven’t
live
-Dommed, so I think a trip to that store is in order so I know how to wield one across your body correctly. We can then purchase one we both like, and I’ll spend a few weeks learning the precise art of decorative slashing.”

I really liked the way he saw it, not as a sadist’s unleashing of hellfire, but as a gift. I imagined him sampling various whips or floggers on me in the store as clerks or maybe even patrons watched, and I got so aroused, mostly because such a scene would show others exactly who I belonged to and how lovingly he could ‘deal with’ me. “We could … or … I could just bring back the one from my box. I bought it for kicks, to whirl around and slice up my stuffed bears. But, you can whip me, Sir, if you find it necessary. I trust you and will take whatever punishment or pleasure you see fit for me.”