The Art of Submission (54 page)

“Isabel, I’m not leaving here without you.”
He says strictly.

I’m too tired to fight with him. He
says he didn’t sleep with Cassie the other night and I’m
overwhelmed about that. And for him to show up here? For
me?
Yes. Fine. I’ll go home with
him. For one more night at least.

After someone Dylan knows and who obviously
works for him picks us up, he unloads my bags from the bus and we
head to the airport. Of course. How could I have forgotten that he
owns his own jet? I inwardly roll my eyes at myself for forgetting
such an important fact.

When we’re all on the jet, I brace myself for
the take off. My back is sweltering and hurting and the bumpy take
off makes for a very uncomfortable situation. Dylan offers me his
hand and I gladly take it.

When we’re finally in the air, Dylan tells me
his whole sordid past with Cassie.

“Listen to me, Isabel. I feel like I need to
explain some things to you. The brief encounter that I had with
Cassie was before she worked for me. I ended things pretty shitty
with her and when I found out she was looking for a job, I felt
like I owed it to her to hire her. But she won’t be an issue
anymore because she no longer works for me.” He says looking at me
intently, waiting for my response.

He ‘owed’ it to her? What kind of BS is
that? Because allowing that snotty bitch to pleasure him wasn’t
enough for her?
Oh brother.
He just smiles at my response and shrugs. Well, I’m glad to
see he’s back to his usual self.

I never thought I’d be so happy to hear about
someone losing their job, but after all the grief she’s caused me
in the last few days, I’m glad he canned her ass.

Dylan reaches over and touches my hair and
then sweetly tells me we need to fix it. Yes, I agree, and I
couldn’t be happier to hear that he wants my old color back.

When we get to Dylan’s place, I feel at home
again, but it feels awkward considering how things ended a few days
ago. Dylan catches me by surprise and tries to help me with my
jacket and the feeling of my jacket rubbing against my skin sends
pain running down the length of my back and legs. He spins me
around, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. When he brings my
gaze to him, the look on his face and his concerned warm blue eyes
are more than I can handle. I break down crying and try and hide
myself in his chest. I’m so humiliated and ashamed at what
transpired with my father, for being so weak and not being to hold
him off.

“
What’s wrong sweetheart? Tell me… tell
me, baby….” He says sweetly.

When he tries to hug me the pain almost makes
my knees buckle. He guides me to the bathroom and inspects my back.
I’m mortified at what he must see.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” He asks
sternly.

I can’t bring myself to answer him. I
break down crying again, ashamed of myself and my past. I stand
motionless as he starts to run the bathwater for me. As the water
runs, he undresses me, the heat of his touch sending shivers across
my skin.
I missed my Dom and his
touch
. I step into the tub, the hot water feeling like
an oasis of security. I pull my knees up to my chest and let Dylan
wash me. He washes my body, then my hair; never once questioning me
about what happened.

When I’m finished, he dries my body off like
he did before and then dresses me in a pretty yellow silk gown. I
feel cared for and my sadness starts to wane slightly. I slip under
the covers and watch Dylan undress. He’s so handsome and kind. I
don’t deserve him. Then he crawls in next to me and turns to face
me.

“I’m glad you came home with me. Please don’t
ever leave me again, Isa.” He says with glossy sad blue eyes.

He’s seems so hurt and fearful, like a child.
Who left him? I can see now that we’re both damaged and flawed, but
not so much so that it’s beyond repair. I need this man and he
needs me, too. I can feel that. I try to the put the events of my
day out of my head as I fall asleep.

I hear the sound of my own voice... No!
NO! My father has just beaten me again and my mother is gone. She’s
left me.
Why?

“
Isa, sweetheart, wake up! It’s only a
dream, baby… wake up!” Dylan is shaking me by my shoulders and I
suddenly open my eyes to see his blue hot eyes gazing down at me
and then he holds me tightly, knowing exactly what I
need.

“
Tell me what happened… tell me.” He
says softly and I can’t deny him. I can’t deny
my Dom.

“
My father was cruel...” I tell him all
the ugly details and I feel only slightly better. I feel tears well
up in my eyes again and I start crying. Will he still want to be
with me, knowing that I can’t give him a family?

“Enough, sweetheart. You don’t have to
tell me anymore. I’m here now and I’ll never let anyone hurt you
again.
Not ever.
And nothing
will make me not want you.
Nothing.”

Oh Dylan.
Hold
me;
and he does; the heat from his body soothing me
and comforting me completely.

I wake about an hour later, restless
and unable to sleep anymore from the throbbing pain on my back. I
sit up and look over at Dylan. He looks so serene. I can’t believe
he came to pick me up from the bus stop. I can’t believe that he
called a decorator to make an art studio for me. I can’t believe he
admitted he doesn’t want to be with anyone else and that he never
wants me to leave him again.
Oh, my dear
sweet dominant Dylan.
I was such a jackass to assume
that he had slept with Cassie before hearing his side of the story.
I hope he can forgive me for over reacting in such a dramatic way.
I caress his face and he stirs and mumbles something. That name
again;
Erika.

Damn it, Dylan,
why
? After everything he said to me tonight, why
is he still dreaming about that woman?
Whatever.
I’m tired and I’m hurting. I get up
and head into the dungeon. When I get in there, I climb under the
top sheet and scan the room. I love this room. I truly love it. I
feel safe in here; I feel safe with Dylan. I can deal with the
Erika issue. I’ll just have to give him reasons to dream about me
instead of her. All I can do is pray that he agrees to my small
request. Maybe it won’t happen today or tomorrow, but…
maybe someday
he’ll let me have a
little bit of control. Yes, I can wait. If it’s time he needs, then
its time I’ll give him.

I hear Dylan’s voice calling my name. When I
open my eyes and sit up, he’s naked and kneeling at the foot of the
bed, hands in his lap and looking down. What is he doing? I crawl
to the foot of the bed and kneel in front of him.

“What are you doing, Dylan?” I ask him.

“Giving you what you want.” He says
softly.

What? I don’t understand. Why isn’t he
looking at me? “Dylan, please look at me. What are you doing?”

His head sweeps up to look at me in the
most alluring way and I suddenly feel aroused.
Oh my God.
I know this pose.

“I told you. Giving you what you want.” He
says seductively and submissively with tranquil blue eyes.

“I… I… don’t understand. I thought you didn’t
want this.”

“I want you, Isa, and whatever you want, is
what I want.” He says watching my mouth keenly.

I don’t even know how to respond. I just sit
there staring at him in awe. Dylan doesn’t move a muscle and he
just sits waiting expectantly for my response.

“I don’t want to tame you, Dylan. I don’t
want to control you.” I whisper, feeling tears threatening to spill
from my eyes.

He smiles. “I know, sweetheart, and
that’s why I’m doing this for you. Because you need it; because I
need it; b
ecause I want
it
.”

I’m suddenly overcome with emotions and
I lunge myself at him, hugging him hard and pinning him to the bed.
As I lay on top of him, he caresses my face and kisses me deeply,
his strong delicious tongue caressing the inside of my mouth. Oh
this man -
I could really learn to love
him
. His eyes are blazing blue and looking right into
my soul.

“So now that you have me right where you want
me, what do you plan on doing with me?” He asks mischievously.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to
suggestions.” He says caressing my face and pushing my hair out of
my eyes.

Suggestions? Then something I read about BDSM
occurs to me… “Are you topping from below, Sir?” I ask him, raising
an eyebrow.

He bursts into heart-felt laughter and then
shrugs. “Yes. I suppose I am, sweetheart.”

The lights are dim in the dungeon and Sade is
playing in the background. Dylan is waiting naked on the bondage
bed, his back against the headboard, waiting for his beautiful
Domme to come in. He’s excited and anxious. After last night’s
intense fuck fest involving, anal beads, the sex swing, and Isabel
in a very compromising position, he owes her this.

He sits waiting impatiently as she finishes
up her scandalous painting. He can barely contain his immense hard
on thinking about the vision of her painting it. Her first gallery
show is coming up soon and she has several more paintings to
complete, and Dylan plans on giving her plenty of inspiration so
she can finish the number of paintings she has agreed to
complete.

When Isabel finally comes sauntering in,
she’s wearing the new white silk bustier and matching assless
panties that Dylan picked out when he was in New York last week.
Dylan also takes note that she’s wearing her diamond studded
ownership necklace that he had commissioned for her. Isabel’s usual
glorious mess of blonde waves is pulled up into a high ponytail and
immaculately coiffed. Dylan loves this look because this look is
reserved only for him in the dungeon.

As soon as Dylan sees her enter the room, he
lowers his head, takes a deep breath and sits motionless. Isabel
makes her way to the bed and proceeds to attach the cuffs to his
wrists and then his ankles. Then she kneels directly in front of
him, cupping his chin to raise his face to hers.

“I want your mouth.” She tells him.

Isabel stands on the bed in front of Dylan
and turns her ass to him. Then she bends at the waist and slowly
backs herself against him, waiting to feel his probing tongue. He
immediately responds and starts licking her, biting her and doing
what he knows she likes. She starts moving her hips rhythmically as
his tongue caresses her, slipping inside every accessible orifice.
Isabel moans loudly as she fingers her clit and after several
minutes, she turns to face him and kneels in front of him.

As Dylan eagerly awaits Isabel’s next
command, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Isabel how sexy and dirty he
looks with his mouth still wet from her juices.

“What did you dream about last night, Dylan?”
She asks with a raised eyebrow and hands on her hips.

“You sweetheart.
Only you.”
He answers without hesitation,
remembering the last time he wavered when asked that question, and
not wanting another flogging like that again.

Isabel smiles and then leans down between his
legs. She starts caressing his hard cock, knowing just how he likes
it, rough and fast. Then she goes down on him, taking him all the
way to the back of her throat, the way he likes it. When he starts
to moan as if he’s going to cum, she slows her pace.

She wants to try something different tonight.
She’s done her homework for the week and she wants to try something
she read about and watched online. She lowers herself onto her
belly, with Dylan’s hardness directly in front of her. She looks up
at him to gauge his reaction as she licks two of her fingers and
then slowly slips them into his ass. The look of surprise on his
face almost makes her laugh out loud, but she doesn’t want to ruin
the moment.

She immediately finds what she’s looking for
as evidenced by Dylan’s response to her probing fingers and
immediate writhing and whimpering.

“Oh my God
,
Isa…
fuck
…” He says harshly
and breathing heavily.

She takes him again into her mouth, sucking
hard, while she massages his prostate. She can feel it swell and
she wonders if this is what her Lady G feels like to Dylan.

With the intense sensation overpowering
Dylan, he has trouble focusing. During his brief moments of
clarity, he thinks about how much he loves her and how far they’ve
come along in the last five months. He’s always amazed at how she
always knows just what he wants and needs. As he feels his cum
rising, he thinks about how beautiful she’s going to look on their
wedding day and
night
. If she
agrees, that is. He has a custom made canary diamond ring waiting
in the drawer with all the restraints and he can hardly wait to
present it to her.

When Dylan is completely overcome by the
uncomfortable feeling and he can’t take anymore, he deeply moans
their version of the safe word yellow.

“Pineapple, Isa.
Pineapple
….” He says strained and
tense.

Isa immediately eases her fingers out and
sits up to let him gather his wits. When he finally pries his eyes
open, she’s scanning his face intently with tawny eyes.

“Are you okay, sugar?” She asks sweetly.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m okay. Where the fuck
did you learn to do that?” He asks her, still out of breath.