Submission (12 page)

He photographed her when she was
bound so tightly that she couldn’t even shudder. He photographed her as he
moved the knot against her and she trembled with desire. He photographed her as
she willingly took his cock into her mouth.

She latched on to him with that
surprising strength again, her lips and her tongue caressing him with such
expertise that Rex knew he wouldn’t last. He threw the camera onto the bed and
once again caught her head in his hands, bracing his feet against the ground.
He’d placed her so that the mirror was behind her and the view was better than
he’d imagined it could be.

She was completely harnessed. He
watched the undulating rhythm of her back and butt as she sucked him. He stole
glances down at her hungry little mouth. He watched her drive him crazy, his
mind melting at the sight.

She wasn’t powerless, though, not
so long as she had her mouth around him. She teased him and tickled him and
made him so hard and thick that he felt a buzzing in his ears. He locked his
hands more tightly around her head, rubbing his thumbs against her ears beneath
the satin, feeling as if he would explode in flames. He drove himself into her,
making her take it all, and she did it, her enthusiasm making his heart pound.

But it was when she dug her toes
into the carpet and sucked him hard that Rex realized that once again, she was
the one in control.

Not him.

He never came on anyone else’s
command.

Never.

Even the woman who was his fantasy
in every way. Rex was nearly overcome with lust and love as he hauled himself
out of Joanna. She gave a cry of dismay but he tossed her on the bed. She
bounced, helpless but wriggling.

Wanting more.

Enticing him.

He tugged the rope out of her
snatch. When he saw that the satin ribbon was dark, so wet it could drip, he
got even harder. He thrust himself into her, burying himself deep into her
sweet heat, even as he locked his hand over lips, silencing that merciless
mouth.

He drilled her, pounding deep,
wanting more, needing more.

Until she screamed with pleasure
beneath his hand, arching hard in his grasp, her sex locking around his cock as
if she’d drain him dry.

Then his own orgasm erupted
through him with savage power. He roared as he filled to her bursting, coming
longer and harder than he ever had before.

It was all over before he realized
he’d broken the rules. He hadn’t used a condom this time. He’d forgotten
himself and lost control, broken one of his own rules.

He had to get out of this room
before Joanna undermined even more of his rules.

But first, he’d leave her with
something to think about.

***

Joanna awakened to the feel of
satin gliding around her waist once more. The Master was putting her garter
belt back on, smoothing the suspenders over her belly. She felt him slide the
stockings over her legs, gently but persistently, fastening them with care. He
fitted the shoes back onto her feet and she arched for him, making a little
purr of pleasure.

He left then and she feared he was
gone, but then heard the tread of his steps on the rub. She smelled a marker,
then felt the tip of it on her skin. He drew something on the inside of her
left shoulder, over her heart, something with curved lines and a little
flourish. A symbol? A mark of ownership?

She yearned to see it, but he
tapped a finger on her lips. “Wait.”

He left the room again and Joanna
waited. She was content in a strange new way. She could have been floating on
cloud of serenity, her body tired but gratified. She knew she’d feel
invigorated and refreshed after she dozed for a while.

She knew she’d want more.

If the Master wanted her again
tonight he could have her.

He could do whatever he wanted
with her.

She was utterly in his power and
there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

She felt his presence beside the
bed and arched her back in invitation, opening her legs. He kissed her quickly,
and slid that ribbon around her waist again. He knotted it, then wrapped it
again. Joanna knew that he was harnessing her in satin again and simmered at
the thought.

He was overlapping the layers more
closely this time, knotting it at the center front and center back. He was also
tying it much tighter, constraining her. She was on her side and he moved over
her, slipping the ribbon beneath her as necessary, making her into the vision
he wanted to see. Joanna was content to let him play with her, as she had once
played with dolls.

The ribbon was wound around her as
high as the underside of her breasts when he urged her to sit up. She thought
he’d cross it between them again, but he bound the ribbon right over her
breasts. It was so tight that it flattened her breasts, making her catch her
breath.

A cage of purple satin.

Joanna shivered. The Master wound
the ribbon around her breasts over and over, only her nipples escaping from its
restraint. It pulled taut when she breathed, reminding her that she was
captive, making her tremble with desire. She was wet all over again, knowing
that only he could sate her. The Master kissed her neck, the tenderness making
her melt, before firmly knotting the ribbon as high up her underarms as
possible.

He wound it back down to her
waist, crisscrossing it now, then urged her to her feet. He worked his way down
from her waist, encasing her lower body. The strips of ribbon held her captive
like a girdle, extending all the way down to the top of her pubis. He knotted
this lower section more frequently, working back and forth on diagonals,
ensuring that it couldn’t slip, testing it with his fingers.

She noticed that he was only happy
when he couldn’t slide one finger beneath it. When she was completely confined,
the satin was like a tight-fitting second skin.

He finished at her waist again,
knotting the ribbon at the back of her waist. She felt his gaze upon her as he
walked around her, surveying his handiwork. She lifted her hands over her head
and posed for him, knowing what he wanted.

She smiled when she heard the
camera click.

After half a dozen shots, he
stretched her out across the velvet coverlet on the bed. He tugged her hands
over her head and held both of her wrists together there. He kissed her
nipples, each in turn, working them up to turgid peaks between the satin
barriers before he abandoned her in a sea of velvet.

Burning.

“Don’t move.”

She didn’t dare defy him, didn’t
want him to punish her by withholding the pleasure he could give.

He was back in moments, looping
the satin ribbon around her wrists again, across her palms, binding her hands
together. It pooled over her arms and she could envision the shining purple
mound of it, spilling over her, rich purple against her pale skin and the ivory
bedcovering.

There was a sharp tug and Joanna
knew he tied her wrists to the headboard. Tender and tough, in perfect
combination. She was on her back, displayed for him. When he moved away, she
opened her legs on impulse, stretching her feet toward the lower corners of the
bed. She pointed her toes within the shoes. He bound her ankles, one to each
corner, spreading her wide. The ribbon went around her instep first, then was
knotted around the ankle, then secured to the corner of the footboard.

She saw the flash illuminate her
hood and arched her back, trying to please him with her willingness. He took
several more shots, and she heard him move to make an adjustment. She felt him
leaning over her, the heat of his skin filling her with anticipation. But he
put the end of one satin ribbon in her mouth, trailing it across her cheeks to
puddle below her ear. Joanna heard the camera click again, then silence.

She rested there, content to wait
for whatever he had planned, a simmer of anticipation making her sex pulse.

She heard the deadbolt unlock, the
door to the suite open and close again.

Followed by silence.

The Master was gone. Joanna knew
it with complete certainty. He’d left her bound in a hotel room. Joanna tugged
at her hands in panic, feeling the ribbon slide. It wasn’t as firmly knotted as
she’d thought. She realized then what he’d done and tugged the end he’d left in
her teeth.

The ribbon slid free, sliding
around her face, and her hands were free. She ripped off the mask and bent to
untie her ankles. She kicked off the shoes, then raced through the suite, not
truly surprised to find him gone.

She exhaled, and
looked around the suite with amazement at what she’d done in this place. She
stood for a long time in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. He had
built her a corset of purple satin, one that bound her into a perfect
hourglass. Her nipples pushed through the gaps between the ribbon, erect and
red. Her naked puss was visible beneath the bottom of the corset, and her labia
got thicker and wetter as she considered herself.

Over her heart
was drawn a peacock feather in purple sparkling marker.

As if she’d been
branded.

By the Master of
the Plume.

No. It was a
mark of his having possessed her.

Her submission
was over. She’d had her experience of the club and this was all there would be.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have abandoned her here. He would have tossed her over
his shoulder, carried her off, locked her away and tormented her with pleasure.

Joanna shivered,
knowing it was not to be.

She wondered
what she would write, remembering that he had all those pictures, hoping that
she’d had some effect upon him.

He had shaken
her world.

She thought of
Mike, was unable to imagine what he would think if he could see her now. She
allowed herself to fantasize that he was both surprised and aroused. She
imagined him taking her as the Master had and the idea thrilled her. She leaned
back against the wall opposite the full length mirror, spread her legs, and
touched herself.

When she came,
she cried Mike’s name.

After she had
cleaned up, Joanna put on her raincoat and left the room. She couldn’t bear to
untie the ribbon corset, wanting to hold this idea of herself for as long as
possible. She left the key behind. She knew there was no point in asking who
had booked the room. The Master wasn’t sloppy about such details. She wouldn’t
find out anything, and she might just ruin her exultant mood.

The world looked
brighter to her, more colorful, more filled with sensual possibilities –
even knowing that she’d never see the Master again. The people in the lobby
looked more alluring to her. The way her raincoat slid over the tight ribbon
made her skin hum and she was surprised to catch sight of her own smile in the
lobby mirror. She looked a little disheveled, a little wild, confident and
potent.

Sexy.

Joanna wasn’t
really surprised that Rafael was waiting for her with the black limo.

***

Rex returned to the Plume, as
restless as a caged tiger. Three explosive orgasms and he felt he’d only begun.
He hadn’t come that close to losing control in years. He couldn’t believe how
many pictures he’d taken of Joanna, and already he ached to review them.

It wasn’t like him to become
obsessed, not so quickly or so thoroughly.

Which could only mean one thing.

Rex was falling in love.

He stood in the bar at the Plume
and threw back a Scotch. It burned down his throat, seemed to settle him a bit.
He watched the members tease each other and titillate each other, knowing that
he wasn’t alone in getting emotion mixed into the game.

It was unfamiliar ground for him,
all the same.

It frightened him.

Which maybe was why he was still
so hard.

But there was nothing more he
could do. He had given Joanna a taste – more of a taste than he’d planned
to give her. He had baited the trap and given her a clue. If she came back to
him – just the idea made him feel dizzy with hope – he would never
let her go.

“Looking for company?” Athena
asked from beside him, her gaze dropping to his erection before returning to
his gaze again. She was dressed in full latex dominatrix gear tonight, the
tight black suit and mask making her look like a naughty version of Catwoman.

“Thanks, but no,” Rex said, indicating
the crowd. “Just checking on things.”

“And how was our intrepid
reporter?”

Rex couldn’t help but smile. “More
intrepid than expected.”

“But gone?”

Rex forced himself to acknowledge
what he knew was the truth. “Gone,” he agreed, his voice flat.

Athena smiled with satisfaction.
“Good. Maybe I’ll take the next one, after all.”

“You should take them.” Rex
pointed to an attractive couple at the far end of the bar. She was dressed
similarly to Athena and he was hooded, with his hands shackled behind his back.
Despite their gear, they seemed desultory, glancing over the crowd as if hoping
for a new sensation. “They both want to be run by you, you know.”

Her gaze brightened. “No, I didn’t
know. I didn’t see it in their files.”

“It’s not in their files.”

Her gaze was assessing. “But you
know.”

Rex smiled. “You’ve seduced them
totally.”

“At least someone is seduced,”
Athena muttered.

“Go on. Make their dreams come
true tonight.”

Athena caressed her whip,
considering the possibilities. The pair noticed her attention and fluttered in
anticipation. “Private room seven?”

Rex checked the schedule with
Tony, then nodded. “All yours. Make it a showy capture, and spice things up a
bit.”

Athena grinned. She cracked her
whip over the heads of the members, startling more than one with her vigor and
control. Tony changed the music to a song with a pulsing beat and Rex smiled as
Athena strode into the crowd. She was in her element, but on this night, he was
content to simply watch.