same.”
“Why?” My voice is as dry as my mouth.
“Do not make a sound. Close your eyes. I want you to picture being the woman in the video. There are braids of chains up the length of your spine, one so hot you want to crawl inside it like a sauna and take a lovely nap. The others are cold to the point of discomfort but you love them because they sharpen the pleasure, keeping you alert and aware of the heat. Right in the center of it.” He walks two fingers up the ridge of my back where the chains would be and I bite my lip hard. “This is, of course, after I’d warmed you up before the chains came into play.”
How? Did he use his hands or a flogger? A cane or a crop?
“And then that long, hot, hard chain settles between your legs. Link by link the heat nudges against you, spreading into the already stimulated flesh of your clit.” He switches to my other ear and continues. “And it almost hurts but feels so very good and all you want to do is grind against it, press it closer, tight to you while you gain momentum and fuck it with your hips.”
A spaced-out dizziness moves into my head while I picture doing exactly that.
Darko strokes a hand down my forearm and encircles my wrist with his fingers. “You cannot use your hands because your Dom has not given you permission. I have not given you permission. It feels great but it’s torture because having the hottest mouth in the world locked against you and not moving is the worst pleasure of all. Unbearable because there is no release.”
The submissive in the video and I make the same sound in unison, a high-pitched moan of protest and need, and my eyes fly open. Darko lets out a throaty chuckle, his hand still hovering over the tablet. “You see?”
“See what?” My breasts ache, swollen with need.
“The submissive was just eliminated—much like you would have been.”
“Why?”
“Forgotten already?” He reclaims his chair across from me. “I told both of you not to make a sound before I began.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“Submission is about more than getting spanked. It’s about obedience, about remembering what you are told even when your mind has been obliterated by sensations. It’s about following rules. It’s to keep you safe as well.”
Crossing my arms gives no real protection, but it makes me feel better. He got inside my mind and made me lose control without even really touching me. I’ve had boyfriends who didn’t make me this wet when they had their tongue on my body and free rein with their hands.
How is it that this man knows my body better than anyone—possibly even myself—after such a short amount of time together?
Fear shivers its way up my body and introduces itself to my chest, cradling my heart with icy hands. This is a man who could make me give up control, who makes me want to. Who’s made me give up control already.
And I like it.
Which means he’s probably right about me being submissive, and I can’t even think about that too closely right now.
I lick my dry lips. “Safe. That’s a word you use a lot.”
He nods. “Safe, sane, consensual. Three of the most important words in our world. Risk awareness. Are there any questions about the video?”
Afraid to give voice to any one question for fear of unleashing a flood, I shake my head. His smile makes me want to curl up in his lap and have him tell me who I am, who he sees when he looks in my eyes because I don’t know that woman.
And I want to. “No questions.”
“We will need to prepare you for some of the things you can expect. I’m guessing you aren’t familiar with a lot of things we consider commonplace.”
I squeeze my thighs together to soothe the sudden ache between my legs. “I’ve done some reading. Last night.”
“I figured you would.” He reaches into one of the leather messenger bags he brought in. “I want you to read the first three chapters of this book.” A thick, red leather volume is plucked from the bag
“Why?” My voice is as dry as my mouth.
“Do not make a sound. Close your eyes. I want you to picture being the woman in the video. There are braids of chains up the length of your spine, one so hot you want to crawl inside it like a sauna and take a lovely nap. The others are cold to the point of discomfort but you love them because they sharpen the pleasure, keeping you alert and aware of the heat. Right in the center of it.” He walks two fingers up the ridge of my back where the chains would be and I bite my lip hard. “This is, of course, after I’d warmed you up before the chains came into play.”
How? Did he use his hands or a flogger? A cane or a crop?
“And then that long, hot, hard chain settles between your legs. Link by link the heat nudges against you, spreading into the already stimulated flesh of your clit.” He switches to my other ear and continues. “And it almost hurts but feels so very good and all you want to do is grind against it, press it closer, tight to you while you gain momentum and fuck it with your hips.”
A spaced-out dizziness moves into my head while I picture doing exactly that.
Darko strokes a hand down my forearm and encircles my wrist with his fingers. “You cannot use your hands because your Dom has not given you permission. I have not given you permission. It feels great but it’s torture because having the hottest mouth in the world locked against you and not moving is the worst pleasure of all. Unbearable because there is no release.”
The submissive in the video and I make the same sound in unison, a high-pitched moan of protest and need, and my eyes fly open. Darko lets out a throaty chuckle, his hand still hovering over the tablet. “You see?”
“See what?” My breasts ache, swollen with need.
“The submissive was just eliminated—much like you would have been.”
“Why?”
“Forgotten already?” He reclaims his chair across from me. “I told both of you not to make a sound before I began.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“Submission is about more than getting spanked. It’s about obedience, about remembering what you are told even when your mind has been obliterated by sensations. It’s about following rules. It’s to keep you safe as well.”
Crossing my arms gives no real protection, but it makes me feel better. He got inside my mind and made me lose control without even really touching me. I’ve had boyfriends who didn’t make me this wet when they had their tongue on my body and free rein with their hands.
How is it that this man knows my body better than anyone—possibly even myself—after such a short amount of time together?
Fear shivers its way up my body and introduces itself to my chest, cradling my heart with icy hands. This is a man who could make me give up control, who makes me want to. Who’s made me give up control already.
And I like it.
Which means he’s probably right about me being submissive, and I can’t even think about that too closely right now.
I lick my dry lips. “Safe. That’s a word you use a lot.”
He nods. “Safe, sane, consensual. Three of the most important words in our world. Risk awareness. Are there any questions about the video?”
Afraid to give voice to any one question for fear of unleashing a flood, I shake my head. His smile makes me want to curl up in his lap and have him tell me who I am, who he sees when he looks in my eyes because I don’t know that woman.
And I want to. “No questions.”
“We will need to prepare you for some of the things you can expect. I’m guessing you aren’t familiar with a lot of things we consider commonplace.”
I squeeze my thighs together to soothe the sudden ache between my legs. “I’ve done some reading. Last night.”
“I figured you would.” He reaches into one of the leather messenger bags he brought in. “I want you to read the first three chapters of this book.” A thick, red leather volume is plucked from the bag
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