The Big Book of Submission (27 page)
Read The Big Book of Submission Online
Authors: Rachel Kramer Bussel
“You'd rub that pussy of yours over that glass, beg him to come closer and lick you through the thin barrier. You'd grind your pussy on my cock and come in long trembling gushes.”
Of course he knew. He always knew.
“I should be angry with you for wanting another man to give you pleasure.” He slapped his open palm across my derrière. “But I'm not.” Another slap. “I love that you're such a slut.” And another. “My slut.” His next slap reverberated all the way to my clit. “Mine,” he said savagely.
His words got to me.
His total possession of my body broke the dam. The orgasm I'd been holding at bay rocketed trough me.
My breath came in ragged pulls.
So did his.
His cock moved in and out with primal need, force and speed.
Colt's fingers released my blue-black hair and dipped down my belly. They found my pulsing clit. Rolled it. Pinched it.
“Mine!” he said again with one final, urging thrust.
I cried in ecstasy as another wave of rolling bliss crashed over me.
He grunted through gritted teeth.
Both of us panted and trembled as our juices filled my pussy to the point of overflowing.
“You. Are. My. Slut.” He whispered each word distinctly as he pulled out of my hot wet confines and zipped up.
Not given the permission to move and rearrange my clothing, I stayed plastered against the glass.
Nipples hard.
Pussy dripping.
Almost as if on cue, Jason walked in the boardroom. I bit down on my bottom lip and watched in silence as he deliberately scanned the floor-to-ceiling glass wall like someone had told him he would find something there. His eyes bugged out of their sockets when they noticed meâby this reaction I assumed I'd been wrong, and he hadn't been told what to expect. The slick juice still oozing from my pussy perfumed Colt's office; even though I knew it was crazy I swore from the look on his face that Jason could smell it through the glass. When I would have backed away to cover myself, Colt's words froze me in place. “Let him watch you.”
I watched Jason walk back to the door. He turned the bolt, locking himself inside. He slowly made his way toward the glass, then lifted his finger and traced my shape.
Never before had I been so aroused.
The man of my latest fantasy was on his knees before me, adoring me. The man who for the past eleven months
had had full control over my body, had fulfilled my every carnal need, no matter how slutty, stood behind me, devouring me.
My pussy constricted around a phantom cock. My pulse raced in my chest.
“Colt,” I begged.
He chuckled in my ear. “This is what you wanted?” His sultry voice caressed every inch of my skin as his slacks-covered pelvis rocked into me.
“Colt,” I begged again. “I need to feel you inside.”
I heard his zipper being pulled down. His pants hit the floor with the clunk of his belt buckle. His hands gripped my hips, and he plunged deep inside my sopping wet heat.
Jason's tongue licked my clit through the glass. His fingers reached up to close over my cherry-sized nipples. The illicit movements from the other side of the thin barrier separating our flesh were hauntingly erotic.
“Don't forget. You. Are. Mine.” His cock fiercely possessed my pussy. His hands, his mouth, his teeth, his tongue, were everywhere on me: my throat, my earlobes, my shoulders, my breasts, my belly, my waist, my hips, my clit, my thighs, my ass. No part of me was left untouched. Unclaimed.
I forgot about Jason on the other side of the glass.
I was Colt's.
His alone.
To brand and dominate.
D
o you own any strap-ons?” Jamie asks, her engineer boots playing footsie with my worn Chuck Taylors.
I shake my head. “I'm more of a bottom. As I'm sure you know.” This is only our second date, but our first was at a play party, so I feel like the normal rules of propriety don't really apply.
“A bottom in the kink sense, sure,” says Jamie, her leather-clad heel pressing so hard on my toe all of a sudden that I almost let out a whimper in the middle of this hipster-student café. “But I didn't see you complaining when I shoved your fingers into my cunt last weekend. I seem to remember you were veryâ¦enthusiastic about it. Or were you just being obedient?”
Jamie takes a sip of her soy chai latte. I love that she likes such fancy coffeeâlove it the same way I love that
last time I unbuttoned her 501s, I found a lacy thong barely covering a thick growth of pubic hair. Jamie has so many layers, and I'm already dreaming of uncovering them all.
“How about you?” I ask, deflecting.
“Of course,” she says, “and I'd like to strap one on you and tie you to my bed and ride you as long and hard as I want.”
I feel my nipples stiffen under my T-shirt. No one's ever suggested that to me before. My lips part, and I try to hide my growing arousal by taking a big gulp of searingly hot black coffee.
Under the table, she reaches a hand up my skirt to pinch my thigh. “Would you like that, being my fucktoy, my slutty little piece of ass?” she asks, raising her own mug oh-so-casually to her lips. I mutely nod, parting my legs to give her better access.
“God, I've been imagining that all day,” confesses Jamie. “You really want to?” For a minute I see through her bravado dominance to the horny girl underneath, nervous that her new date won't be into her fantasies. Then I nod and smile, and she digs her nails into my leg and I lose myself once again in this world we like creating, where I give her power and she spins it into something terrible and glorious for us both.
“Finish your coffee then,” she says, withdrawing her hand. Obediently, I drain my mug. She does the same.
“My house is a block away from here,” ventures Jamie.
“And you'd like to take me there and fuck me?”
Jamie nods. I smile. “Lead the way.”
Ten minutes later, Jamie has me pinned on her bed, her fingers in my hair, my clothes scattered around us. Her bed is the kind I've been circling in IKEA catalogs for the past five years: sturdy metal, it seems to be made entirely of tie-down points. She's affixed leather cuffs to the four corners, and I wonder if she leaves them on all the time or if they're especially for my benefit.
Jamie's hands roam over my breasts, twisting and pinching. I whimper. “You like that?” she asks. I can tell she really wants to know, worried, despite the beating she gave me last weekend, that I'm not actually into this stuff. At the party she reminded me of my safeword three times. She's cute, this one. Very gentlemanly.
“Fuck, yes, I like it when you hurt me,” I assure her. “I like seeing that look in your eyes when youâah!” She slaps my tits, needing no further encouragement. I can feel my flesh growing red under her eager palms. I grind against her leg, and she pulls off her shirt and slams into me, hands taking temporary ownership of every inch of my body, mouth tight on my lips, legs clamped together over my thigh.
I'm wondering if we'll just end up making out, quick and dirty, when she abruptly pulls herself off me, opens a drawer in her bedside table and takes out a harness. She slips it up my legs and tightens the straps, securing a medium-sized purple dildo into place. I've never worn
a cock before. I try to imagine having a dick, being so visibly aroused. It feels so much more vulnerable than the discreet wetness and fullness of my pussy, a whole different kind of bondage, of submission.
Jamie is working on my wrists and ankles now, strapping me down so I'm spread-eagled on her mattress. She looks at me, her face gleeful. Her hands grab at my tits, and I strain against my bonds. She pinches my nipples so hard I cry out.
“You really like that, eh, slut?” she asks, still gripping the hard buds firmly between her fingers.
“Mmph, yes,” I manage to moan.
“Then can I put these on those sweet tits of yours?” she asks, rummaging around in her magic drawer and holding up a pair of clamps connected by a chain.
I nod eagerly, and she affixes them to my already sore nipples. She kisses me again, her tongue invading my mouth, then slips the chain between my lips. I clamp down without having to be told, sending a shock of pain to my breasts and a wave of pleasure to my cunt.
“I'm going to fuck you now,” Jamie informs me, and I moan as she pulls off her jeans. This time, her panties are plain and white, but they're still incongruously femme. She pulls those off too, and I see that her pubic hair is matted with wetness.
She slowly rolls a condom down over my cock, then squirts lube into her hand and milks me as though she's giving me a hand job. I move my hips to meet her, but she takes her hand away and straddles me instead.
I gasp at her solid weight. She begins to ride my cock, her movements fast and rough, a hand once more in my hair, the other rubbing her clit. I watch that hand, the way it dances with practiced fingers, and start thrusting back at her, wanting nothing but to help her get off, to let her use me just the way she promised she would.
Her fingers in my hair are clenched so tightly I can feel tears coming to my eyes. She thrusts hard against my tender clit, and then, so soon, she's coming, her face titled back, her mouth open in one long, wordless cry. I think she comes twice, or maybe her orgasm just keeps going and going, but finally she collapses onto me, panting and grinning.
After a moment, she looks into my face. My teeth are still clenching on the chain.
“You haven't come yet, have you?” she asks. I shake my head.
“Good girl,” she says approvingly, and I realize I've narrowly avoided punishment.
“I might let you come,” she informs me, letting go of my hair to slap my throbbing tits, “after I've gotten myself off a few more times.” She starts to ride me again, that diabolical smile back on her face.
This one's a keeper
, I think to myself
.
I wonder how long I should wait before asking about our third date.
M
y knees are aching and my arms are beginning to tremble, but I don't dare move. Her instructions were for me to hold my position, so, despite the discomfort, I do just that.
Rosa's making it difficult for me, though.
When I arrived for today's session, she immediately led me, without a word, into her study. My eyes went straight to the large mahogany desk. I eagerly began to anticipate receiving a complement of pleasure and pain while bent over it, but my partner had other plans.
Silently, she placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the leather couch under the window. The coffee table that normally sat in front of it was absent. In a cool voice, she instructed me to strip nude and kneel on hands and knees in the vacant space,
before turning and leaving the room again.
Somewhat apprehensively, I obeyed.
I always wore a loose sheath dress for our sessions, so it took only a moment to pull the light garment over my head. I was nude underneath; Rosa preferred it that way. Stepping out of my heels, I slid the shoes out of the way, then folded my dress and placed it on the corner of the desk. I let my hand linger longingly on the cool wooden surface a moment, before obediently turning back to the couch and lowering myself to the floor as directed.
She didn't make me wait too long.
The door creaked, announcing her return. I was facing away from the doorway, but the click of her heels as she crossed the threshold from the carpeted hallway into the office sent a shiver through me. She crossed the room slowly, letting her footfalls fill the expectant silence. When she finally reached the couch, she didn't immediately acknowledge me. I heard her set a few objects down on the small end table beside the couch, before sitting. The leather cushions squeaked under her.
Soon, I felt a hand on my left shoulder. It slid down the curve of my back. Her touch was cool, but my skin burned under her caress. Reaching my hip, her palm cupped my left asscheek, while her thumb traced the cleft between my buttocks.
Her other hand was touching me as well now. She stroked the front of my thigh, upward, and then caressed the gentle swell of my stomach. My breath shuddered as
she found my breast and squeezed it slightly. My nipple stiffened against the palm of her hand. Pulling her hand away, she flicked her painted nails against the stiffened peak until I bit my lip to keep back my groan.
Rosa's other hand was moving again. It slid down my crack to explore the spreading arousal between my legs. My pussy was already wet, and my swollen lips parted open eagerly as her fingertips trailed down my slit.
“You're eager tonight,” she purred, pleased.
Her voice only added to my arousal. I was breathing hard and risked a peek under my arm. All I caught was a glimpse of sheer black nylons and gorgeous red pumps before Rosa demanded in a sharp voice, “Eyes down!”