Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica by Rachel Kramer Bussel, Sinclair Sexsmith, Miriam Zoila Perez, Wendi Kali, Gigi Frost, BB Rydell, Amelia Thornton, Dilo Keith, Vie La Guerre, Anna Watson Page A
Authors: Rachel Kramer Bussel, Sinclair Sexsmith, Miriam Zoila Perez, Wendi Kali, Gigi Frost, BB Rydell, Amelia Thornton, Dilo Keith, Vie La Guerre, Anna Watson
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owner, the one with black latex tails curling from it, ready to sting and slice and bring fading darts of red to wherever it lands. I hate how you know me—and you know Her—so well.
I draw in my breath sharply as the thick strands of rubber collide with my bare flesh. It’s not that it hurts, as such; more the shock, the sensation of the unexpected, the fact I’m trussed up in my own dungeon without an ounce of control. I screw up my eyes tightly as you bring it back down, wincing as you rain rubberized blows down upon my skin. I want you to stop, sort of; the way that is wanting you to stop in my conscious mind whilst the rest of me insanely wishes for more. You don’t stop, of course, just like I knew you wouldn’t, but it doesn’t stop it feeling strange.
“You like this one, don’t you?” It’s not so much a question as a statement, really, even though “like” is not exactly the word I would be using right now. If I could speak at all, that is, and I seem to be finding I can’t. I mumble some kind of affirmative noise as you slice the sharp strips against the trembling flesh of my thighs, a soft glow spreading across my skin of…what is it, even? Sensation? Painfulness? I can’t even tell, but I guess if I was going to verbalize something, it would be something positive. I think so, anyway. You stop briefly, long enough to stroke gentle circles over my reddened cheeks, punctuated with the odd sharp smack of your hand, before striding purposefully back over to the rack of toys.
You must have listened to my inane work chatter more than I thought, as you dutifully lay out the one you have used on the couch next to the sanitizer spray before reaching for another one. I try craning my neck, but even in the reflection I can’t see what you’re doing, which makes me wriggle just a little in my bonds. Catching me spying, you just chuckle in that way that says “silly little girl,” before gritting your teeth and swinging your arm back forcefully, bringing all of your strength down onto me. In my mind, I can see myself propelled forwards, like you are pushing me into a stream of white light, and each strike sends me flying further into it, yet somehow you are still flying next to me. I feel so close to you, it makes me want to tell you then and there how much I love you, but words won’t really seem to come out right. You seem to want to make me try, though.
“Are you doing okay, baby?”
“Mmmph-hmmph.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Mmm.”
“What did I tell you about questions, little missy? You don’t want to make me stop now, do you?”
This seems to bring me back to earth somehow.
“No, Sir, please don’t stop, Sir. It was a yes, Sir, I’m doing… beautifully, Sir. Th-thank you.”
I can almost hear you smiling as I say this. It makes me even happier than I already was. Time seems to pass strangely after that, like an eternity in just a few minutes, where I am certain you use every single thing in that room to inflict blissful agony on me, though how you could have managed it I have no idea. Before I even have time to process it all, your hands are warm on my wrists, tenderly unbuckling the cuffs that bind me, pulling me gently to my feet and into your strong, powerful arms. You hold me there like that, my hammering chest pressed close to yours, like we could just melt into the same person if we stayed there long enough, but I can’t stay there long enough. I need you.
“Please let me suck you.” I can hear the whisper coming out of my mouth and tiptoeing into your ear, so softly powerful. Whenever I ask you, I know you will let me, but just asking for it sends sparks through me more intense than could ever come from just being ordered to do so.
You take my face in your hands and pull it back to look into my eyes, so full of love for you, and smile.
“Of course you can. Get down on your knees now, that’s a good girl.”
My gaze does not leave yours as I lower myself to the hard
I draw in my breath sharply as the thick strands of rubber collide with my bare flesh. It’s not that it hurts, as such; more the shock, the sensation of the unexpected, the fact I’m trussed up in my own dungeon without an ounce of control. I screw up my eyes tightly as you bring it back down, wincing as you rain rubberized blows down upon my skin. I want you to stop, sort of; the way that is wanting you to stop in my conscious mind whilst the rest of me insanely wishes for more. You don’t stop, of course, just like I knew you wouldn’t, but it doesn’t stop it feeling strange.
“You like this one, don’t you?” It’s not so much a question as a statement, really, even though “like” is not exactly the word I would be using right now. If I could speak at all, that is, and I seem to be finding I can’t. I mumble some kind of affirmative noise as you slice the sharp strips against the trembling flesh of my thighs, a soft glow spreading across my skin of…what is it, even? Sensation? Painfulness? I can’t even tell, but I guess if I was going to verbalize something, it would be something positive. I think so, anyway. You stop briefly, long enough to stroke gentle circles over my reddened cheeks, punctuated with the odd sharp smack of your hand, before striding purposefully back over to the rack of toys.
You must have listened to my inane work chatter more than I thought, as you dutifully lay out the one you have used on the couch next to the sanitizer spray before reaching for another one. I try craning my neck, but even in the reflection I can’t see what you’re doing, which makes me wriggle just a little in my bonds. Catching me spying, you just chuckle in that way that says “silly little girl,” before gritting your teeth and swinging your arm back forcefully, bringing all of your strength down onto me. In my mind, I can see myself propelled forwards, like you are pushing me into a stream of white light, and each strike sends me flying further into it, yet somehow you are still flying next to me. I feel so close to you, it makes me want to tell you then and there how much I love you, but words won’t really seem to come out right. You seem to want to make me try, though.
“Are you doing okay, baby?”
“Mmmph-hmmph.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Mmm.”
“What did I tell you about questions, little missy? You don’t want to make me stop now, do you?”
This seems to bring me back to earth somehow.
“No, Sir, please don’t stop, Sir. It was a yes, Sir, I’m doing… beautifully, Sir. Th-thank you.”
I can almost hear you smiling as I say this. It makes me even happier than I already was. Time seems to pass strangely after that, like an eternity in just a few minutes, where I am certain you use every single thing in that room to inflict blissful agony on me, though how you could have managed it I have no idea. Before I even have time to process it all, your hands are warm on my wrists, tenderly unbuckling the cuffs that bind me, pulling me gently to my feet and into your strong, powerful arms. You hold me there like that, my hammering chest pressed close to yours, like we could just melt into the same person if we stayed there long enough, but I can’t stay there long enough. I need you.
“Please let me suck you.” I can hear the whisper coming out of my mouth and tiptoeing into your ear, so softly powerful. Whenever I ask you, I know you will let me, but just asking for it sends sparks through me more intense than could ever come from just being ordered to do so.
You take my face in your hands and pull it back to look into my eyes, so full of love for you, and smile.
“Of course you can. Get down on your knees now, that’s a good girl.”
My gaze does not leave yours as I lower myself to the hard
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