The Big Book of Submission (16 page)

“Yes, Ma'am. All I am is your fucktoy,” he answered.

She adjusted the hood over his face and head, then pulled him close to her mouth so there was no mistaking he could hear her through the hood. She spoke directly into his covered ear. “Fuck me, bitch, but no making your own mess.”

As he started fucking her, she knew he'd heard her. She reached around and grabbed his ass with both hands. A loud groan erupted from him, but he never stopped his momentum as he fucked his Mistress. His ass had to be sore from the punishment she'd administered earlier—and the plug. While he was thrusting, she reached up and started pinching and twisting his nipples. It was a very sensitive area for him and any sort of stimulation of his chest always caused his dick to become rock hard, a turn-on of his she'd discovered
early in their relationship—and taken full advantage of every chance she could.

As soon as she came around him, she'd order him to stop fucking without letting him make his mess. She'd announce to him she was done with him and remove the hood and the plug from his ass. Then she would let him choose which strap-on cock she would fuck him with that night. She still wasn't sure if she'd let him make his mess at all, even though he'd be begging for some kind of release. But whatever she decided, it was her choice and not his. He never had a choice. He never had a say in any part of their relationship. That wasn't how their relationship worked. He was her submissive, her slave, her most beloved and owned boy. And on nights like these he was her personal fucktoy. She smiled and felt the first wave of her orgasm start to wash over her. It was good to be the domme.

CARAMEL

Kathleen Tudor

H
e's wanted me since the first day he saw me, but I held him off. That's the power of a submissive—she decides when and where and how to give herself over. The dom is in control, but only after she says he is. And even though I wanted him right back, I waited…

It was the dungeon's kinky Christmas party, and even though there was no drinking on the premises, it was pretty clear that some people had spiked the eggnog before they'd shown up. Julia was on her hands and knees in the lounge and her Master was behind her, fucking her slowly with a candy cane and pausing every so often to give it a good lick. She was just asking for a yeast infection, if you ask me.

One of the party hosts was circulating with a challenge: name the reindeer in alphabetical order and win
a prize. And
he
was taking on the challenge. Thomas. A big man, muscled all over, with arms like a superhero, and those tight leather pants showed something else at heroic proportions as well.

“Blitzen, Comet, Cupid…”

I set down my paper cup full of punch and moved behind him as he went through the list, breathing deeply enough to make my breasts swell over the top of my corset, even though the effect was wasted for the moment.

“…Prancer…”

I leaned forward until my breasts just brushed his back, and breathed, “Vixen.” The room seemed to stop, and even silly Julia choked back her exaggerated sounds of pleasure to see what we would do. I'd ruined the game and finished for him; would he win? Would he be angry? What would our esteemed host, Blaggard, do?

Thomas turned to glance over his shoulder at me, and his smile was sharp. “So you are,” he said. Then he turned back to Blaggard, and whatever was in his expression made our host grin.

“Well, since you two shared an answer, I guess you can share the prize. An hour's reservation in the blue room. You can have it now if you want it.”

“We'll take it. Come on, then, Vixen, if you're brave enough…”

He held out his hand in invitation, waiting for me to give him the power. Mine still, until the moment my palm touched his. Then his hand closed over mine, his
feral smile overwhelmed me and the room burst back into the sounds of several conversations, Julia's breathy sighs and a few knowing chuckles as Thomas led me away.

The blue room. It was closed to regular dungeon guests, open by reservation only. There were real sheets on a real bed with a nice, heavy frame for bondage and a selection of toys and implements for borrowing. And there was the bag, which Thomas had stopped to grab from his locker, teasing me with its mystery. I didn't have to wonder for long.

The bag was full of rope in a rainbow of colors and a variety of lengths. My skin flushed and my breath grew shallow as he guided me to the bed and positioned me how he wanted me. My skirt and panties were taken away. My corset and heels were left. Soft, intractable knots were formed, sealing me in place with ribbons of pink and green and white. I shivered as each one breathed over my skin, immobilizing me by degrees.

“I've wanted to tie you up like this for months,” he said, finishing the final knot and stepping back to admire me, trussed up on the bed, helpless before his desires.

“I know.”

“What will you say if you want me to stop?” he asked, moving around the bed. The formerly heroic bulge in his pants was absolutely titanic now. I shuddered and felt tingles growing between my legs; the man hadn't even touched me yet, except to impersonally position me for the ropes.

My regular safeword was
red,
but it seemed so ordinary. Thomas deserved something special, something as sweet and heady as he was. “
Caramel.
” It reminded me of the color of his skin.

He smiled. “Caramel.” He drew the word out like he was tasting it, and my mouth watered. “All right, Vixen. You've been teasing me long enough. Tonight, as payment, I'm going to take your virginity.”

I laughed. “I'm not—” But my breath caught as he pressed one slender finger to the exposed pucker of my ass. Oh.

“Or you could say it…”
Caramel
. I wouldn't. I'd offered him this power. I wasn't ready to take it back.

He smiled at my silence and fetched an XL condom and lube from the bag of rope. I whimpered. What a first date!

But my mouth was watering again by the time he had peeled the leather away and slid the rubber on over that intimidating pole.

He didn't kiss me, or tease me, or run a finger through the pool of liquid heat that was already dripping down my crack. He just smoothed some lube onto his cock, and used what was left to ease the entry of one thick finger. I moaned as he penetrated my virgin hole, and strained against my bonds, wanting to play back.

He didn't finger-fuck me for long, though. I gasped when he shifted, bringing his cock in line with my tight bud. “Already?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“You could always make me stop.”

I moaned. He thrust. I screamed. It was like a lightning strike, sparking and painful and exciting, electrifying my entire body, tearing me in two. I gasped for air, and he laughed.

“That was only the tip. You ready to give up, Vixen?”

“Never!”

“That's what I like to hear.” He rocked against me and I cried out with each thrust, feeling him sink into me, so huge, so deep, it was as if part of me must have been displaced. It was a desperate feeling—ecstatic and agonizing and even a little empowering. After all, I could make it stop whenever I wanted. I held the power.

Finally, he was rooted in me, so deep I could feel the tickle of his hairs against my ass. He thrust slowly at first, picking up speed as he began to reach for my pleasure, teasing his fingers across my clit as he took me.

I soared toward climax, but Thomas watched me closely, moving his fingers away every time I came too close. I was nearly weeping with frustration as he brought me to the edge again. “Say it. Say it and you can come.”

He plunged into my ass, and I clenched around him, taking my power back as I forced him over the edge with me, crying out as I did so, “Caramel!”

THE BULLDOG BREED

Lisette Ashton

D
ani whistled in soft horror. The door was left open. Someone would pay.

She stepped warily into the office. Ted Powers, owner of Powers Investments, was aggressively proactive on the subject of security. Dani had heard the bald-headed, broad-necked man berate many of his young secretaries for accidentally leaving the office door ajar.

He had a daunting presence that left Dani weak from the prospect of earning his wrath. Even though she worked for Simmons Stationery on the floor below, she still felt more fearful of Ted Powers than of her own boss. Some days, when her office was quiet, she could hear Powers shouting at his underlings with a bellowing roar. If she'd had to put up with a boss like that, she knew it would be akin to living with the constant threat of retribution.

Closing the door behind her, she thought about how livid Ted would be if he discovered that one of his staff had failed to adhere to his security protocols.

Dani considered calling to announce her arrival.

She'd opened her mouth to ask if anyone was about when she heard someone moan.

It was an exclamation of obvious pain.

But there was something else in the sound: something needy, obvious and sexual. It was a sound Dani knew well, a sound that often reverberated from the walls of her own bedroom.

She stiffened.

She glanced back toward the door, planning to make an escape before she was discovered. She turned and caught her hip against a corner of the reception desk. The collision caused a small thud.

“Is someone out there?”

It was a man's voice.

It was the voice of Ted Powers.

A stack of papers had sat on the desk. She saw them teetering and reached out a hand. Because she was still holding the package, a small brown parcel of stationery addressed to Ted Powers at Powers Investments, she ended up pushing at the pile rather than steadying it.

Pages and books fell to the floor.

A stapler that had been perched on top of the pile clattered noisily against the reception desk. To Dani's mind, the noise could not have been louder if it had sounded from a klaxon horn.

She groaned.

“Who the fuh…?”

Ted Powers appeared from the doorway behind the main reception area. His cheeks were flushed. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. In one hand he held a wicked-looking length of cane. His shirt was undone. The front panel of his pants was distended by a fat and obvious bulge.

Dani snatched her gaze away.

“Dani?” He sounded surprised and pleased.

She nodded, too frightened to speak.

“Was the door unlocked?”

She considered her options and knew she couldn't lie to Ted Powers. “Yes.”

He sighed with obvious frustration.

Although she couldn't see his eyes she knew he was glowering disapprovingly back into the room behind the reception desk. He nodded at the package in her hands. “Are those the goods I ordered this morning?”

She glanced down at her trembling fingers and saw she was still holding the parcel. “It's your bulldog clips,” she told him.

“Close the door,” he told her. “Then come back here.”

Dani didn't like being given commands but she didn't dare disobey. She hurried to shut the door properly, drop the deadbolt and then hurry to where he stood at the door behind the reception desk.

A whimper came from inside the room.

It was a woman's voice. The tone was one Dani recognized. The woman's appetite was being sated by pain.

“Please, Mr. Powers.” She spoke in a low, breathless whisper. “Not this.”

Ted gestured for Dani to join him.

Still holding the box, she followed. Her heart raced.

Inside the room was a naked woman kneeling on a desk. She was on all fours, her backside held high in the air. Her lowered face was hidden by the cowl of brunette hair hanging down. Her breasts hung pertly beneath her. Her bleached anus and smoothly shaved labia were directly at eye level with Dani as she entered the room.

Dani swallowed. There were stripes across the woman's rear. The bright red marks sliced with agonizing beauty across the pale mounds of both asscheeks. A dewy sheen of arousal colored the lips of the woman's sex.

“Alison,” Ted began, addressing the naked woman. “This is Dani. She works for the stationery company downstairs. Say hello to Dani, Alison.”

Alison muttered a mortified greeting.

“Dani,” Ted continued, “Alison is being punished for her lack of attentiveness to the job she is supposed to do for me. I've already striped her backside, as you can see. Do those marks look painful to you?”

Dani studied the marks.

They were more dark pink than red. They cut across both cheeks of Alison's ass in lines that curved with the
swell of her buttocks. Dani imagined they had been an agony to receive. She couldn't resist the urge to reach out and stroke her fingers against one of the lines.

Ted Powers smiled with obvious approval.

Alison winced beneath her. Dani could sense the woman's electric excitement beyond her surface discomfort and embarrassment. She didn't know if it was the musk of arousal that spiced the air, or if there was something else in the atmosphere, but as she traced her finger over the raised weal of reddened skin, Dani knew this was something darkly exciting that she needed to experience. It didn't matter whether she was wielding the cane or suffering the brutal sting of its kiss: she yearned for this torment just the same.