“Me too. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I like having you kneel at my feet like you belonged there.
I like keeping you bound and helpless while I feed you. Sometime in the future, when you’re properly trained, we might use food deprivation as a punishment. Not that you’ll need much punishment by then, am I right?”
She looked decidedly alarmed. “Food deprivation?”
“It can be a very effective tool. A night without dinner spent in the puppy cage, cunt and ass stuffed with dildos, taped in to keep them there. Very effective indeed for a naughty slave girl.”
“Cole! You wouldn’t…?”
He slipped from his chair and knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “Of course I would, darling. If it’s what you needed. Don’t you see that? I’ll do whatever you need. Yes, it’s about pleasing me, but in the end, it’s about you and what you need. That’s always the way between a Dom and a sub. That’s why it’s called an exchange of power, rather than merely an abdication on your part.
“In a healthy D/s relationship, the submissive ultimately holds the real power. She stops the scene with a word. She sets the limits with what she can tolerate, and with what it takes to satisfy and control her. It’s a circle, a fluid exchange of power between us, even if on the surface I’m the one in charge. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes, Sir. It does.” She bowed her head. Cole reached beneath the hem of her dress, gently forcing her thighs apart with one hand. He sought and found what he was looking for—she was wet, so wet she’d stained her thighs with the sweet juice.
Jesus, he had to have her—now.
Hurriedly he released the cuffs. He grabbed a cushion from one of the other chairs and placed it on the empty side of the large oak kitchen table. “Get up. Lie on your back on the table.
I need to fuck you.”
He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and fished out a condom, wishing he didn’t have to use it, aware she wasn’t on birth control. If she stayed with him, they would need to address that, but for now he simply had to have her.
“On the table?”
“Stop repeating every order I give you,” he snapped, though he really wasn’t angry. She would learn soon enough. “It’s your fault. You’re so damn sexy I can’t even wait to get you to the bedroom. Take off that dress, lie on your back and scoot your ass to edge of the table. I’m going to fuck you. Oh, and don’t you dare come. Don’t even think about it.”
~*~
Elizabeth tried and failed to pay attention to the movie. She was too aware of Cole beside her, too aware of her own nudity and his, her unsatisfied lust, her aching desire for him. They were lying in his bed, she cradled in his arm. She hadn’t realized there was a large flat screen TV
hidden behind the doors of the large armoire that faced his bed.
Again she tried to focus on the action thriller, barely following the plot line, and finally giving up entirely, surrendering herself to her daydreams. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about being fed like an infant. On the other hand, she hadn't felt like an infant, with her hands cuffed behind her, her bare pussy resting against her heels and her nipples perking toward her captor at stiff attention.
She hadn't been able to help the occasional surreptitious grinding of her cunt against her heels. Cunt… Somehow the word no longer offended. Because
he
used it and he liked it. It was earthy, he’d said. Honest. He was right. Pussy was a euphemism, like saying you’re going to go powder your nose, when you actually intend to pee. One more thing stripped away, she thought, in this strange quest for freedom and self-discovery.
He’d fucked her hard on the table, thrusting into her, his hands pressing her shoulders down against the hard wood. She’d felt objectified—used. But instead of outrage, she couldn’t deny the thrill. He had simple taken what he wanted without preamble or regard for her, like a prehistoric caveman staking his claim on a woman he’d captured and dominated.
Because he’d told her not to come, her perverse body was instantly sensitized, teetering dangerously on the edge of orgasm the entire time he was inside her. She’d very nearly succumbed to her own desperate need for release. After all, he’d purposely kept her on edge all day, forcing her twice to bring herself nearly to orgasm, only to cruelly withhold the ultimate pleasure.
She snuggled against him, rubbing her bare body suggestively against his beneath the sheets.
“Hmm.” His eyes were still on the screen. Absently he stroked her back, seemingly impervious to the press of her breasts against his side. After a few minutes of being basically ignored, she raised the stakes, partially straddling his strong thigh with hers, rubbing her cunt against it while brazenly reaching for his cock.
That got his attention. He turned toward her, shaking his head. “Pay attention to the movie.
Am I going to have to chain you to the bed?”
“Come on, Cole. I haven’t come all day.”
“You came after your spanking in the playroom,” he reminded her.
“That was hours ago.” She knew she sounded petulant but it was his fault for keeping her on edge like this. Being denied for so long had made her irritable. She couldn’t relax or focus with her cunt constantly throbbing. “I’ve been trying to be really good and obedient. You’ve been teasing me for too long. Come on. Let me come. Please? You don’t even have to be involved.
You can keep watching that stupid movie.”
He moved suddenly, pinning her wrists over her head, pressing her into the mattress with his body. His mouth was close to her ear, his warm breath tickling her as he spoke. His voice was low and steely and for the first time, she felt afraid of him.
“You don’t run the show, Elizabeth. I do. I decide when you come, how you come, if you come. Got it? Whiny little brats don’t get orgasms just because they want them. You’d been doing very well this evening, and it had been my intention to reward you. Too bad you fucked it up.”
He lifted himself off her and turned his attention back to the screen. Elizabeth found herself both mortified and furious. She fumed in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling, wondering for the first time that day if she really wanted to submit to this man. Yes, it was thrilling, but did she really want to give of herself to such a degree? Was she even capable of such submission?
She glanced toward Cole and found he was watching her, instead of the movie, his expression inscrutable.
“What.” She knew she sounded defensive.
“You don’t have to stay.” His voice was soft, even sad.
She hadn't expected that response. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe this isn’t right for you.” He echoed her own thoughts of a moment before. “Maybe you’re really not cut out for submission. The BDSM games are fun, sure. Maybe that’s all you really want. All you’re truly looking for, if you’re looking for anything at all.”
She stared at him, still angry and now afraid—afraid he was sending her away, firing her from the job of sub girl she had signed up for.
She felt tears well up in her eyes and spill over her cheeks. All at once a flood gate inside her opened. She began to cry in noisy, gasping sobs. He reached for her and took her into his arms. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay.” He held her tenderly. She continued to sob, not even sure why. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried, not just silent tears, but this raspy, undignified snot-nosed sobbing. Cole continued to hold her, stroking her hair, letting her cry against his warm, fuzzy chest.
Eventually the sobs subsided and she lay limp and still, not wanting to move. It felt good and safe to be held in his strong arms. She didn’t want to ever leave these arms. Maybe she would just lie here in them forever and let the world drift by.
Finally she lifted her head to see his face. He smiled tenderly at her and reached for a tissue.
He wiped her running nose, as gently as if she were a child, nothing but concern in his expression. He reached for another tissue and gently dabbed at her wet cheeks. Impulsively she turned toward his hand and kissed it.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Surprisingly, she was. All the irritation and petulance had melted away. She was still horny though, she thought with an inward rueful grin.
Cole leaned up on his elbow and faced her. “You’ve been through a rollercoaster of a day today. The first day is always the toughest, in terms of mindset. Listen to me. I love you. I want you in my life. You convinced me before you really wanted to give this a serious try—a 24/7
effort to find out if you have what it takes to truly submit, and if it’s the right thing for you.
“There’s no crime in failing. Unless you try something, you can’t know if it’s right for you or not. Maybe you’ve reached that point. Maybe you’d like to go back to your place and think things through. I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“I want to stay.” Her voice was firm. “I honestly don’t know the answer yet—if I’m really submissive or not. I guess just saying I want to submit isn’t the same as actually doing it, or following through.”
She fell back against the pillows beside him. “It’s your fault,” she asserted. “I’ve never been this turned on before. This…sexualized. It’s like my every waking moment since I got here this morning has been focused on my…cunt.” She said the word softly, shyly, feeling odd as she said it, but also correct.
“That’s a good thing. I want you sexualized and sensitive. I want you always quivering on the edge of desire. What you don’t yet get is the experience can be that much more intense if you give up your control over it all. Let me guide you. Accept I know what you need, and I’ll always give it to you. Always. And right now what you need is to learn some self-control. You have none.” He laughed. “Not when it comes to your orgasm. You want what you want when you want it. Well, that ain’t gonna fly. Not if you’re to belong to me. I’m serious when I say that’s
my
body. My property. You get permission to use it sexually, and then only if it pleases me.
“That’s the lot of a submissive, and paradoxically it’s also her exaltation. I know you don’t get that yet, but you will, I promise. If you really want to stay, that is. If you really want to keep trying.”
“I do.” Elizabeth clamped her legs together resolutely, willing her randy sex to go to sleep.
“I do, Sir.”
When Elizabeth awoke the next morning she was alone. Cole had told her he would be getting up early for a phone conference with some investors from Amsterdam, but would probably be done before she even woke up.
To her disappointment, they hadn't made love before going to sleep. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she had thought her tears would have brought a reprieve, and he would let her come.
Instead he had placed leather cuffs around her wrists and loosely shackled them with chain. “Just a reminder to keep your hands away from that little cunt of yours.”
It had taken her a long time to fall asleep. She started out in his arms, her head resting on his broad, strong chest, her hands pressed together beneath her chin as if in prayers, the chain resting between them. After a while Cole’s breathing deepened and slowed and she knew he was asleep.
Slowly, carefully, she shifted off him and lay on her back, sliding her hands down to her pussy, which still throbbed with dull, aching need. She cupped it with her right hand and glanced over at him. He hadn't moved. Did she dare? With him right beside her, did she dare steal her pleasure?
He turned toward her, startling her so she pulled her hands away, the chain clinking between her wrists. In his sleep, he brought a heavy arm over her stomach, capturing her arms in the process. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and, eventually, fell asleep.
Now she glanced at the clock. It was seven-twenty. Was he still on his conference call?
Quietly she climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. She used the toilet, which was awkward with her wrists shackled, but she didn’t dare remove the cuffs on her own.
Returning to the bedroom, she went out into the hall and walked toward his study. The door was ajar and she could hear him murmuring inside. He must still be on the phone. She wouldn’t disturb him.
She returned to the bedroom, thinking perhaps she would shower and groom herself. She looked at her shackled wrists, wondering if she was expected to leave them on while showering.
Surely not? On the other hand, maybe she should just wait until he was done with his call.
Maybe he would want to shower with her.
That thought turned her mind to his strong, sexy body. She never tired of looking at his long, lean physique, of feeling his firm, well-rounded muscles and burrowing her face in his masculine chest. Her nipples perked and her pussy began to throb. Day two of training. What did he have planned for her today? Would she be able to stand it if he didn’t let her come?
The mere thought made her loins ache. Maybe if she stole a quickie. To take the edge off.
Nothing big, just a quick rub, a mini-gasm. No harm done and it would make her a better sub because she wouldn’t be so agitated. Yes. That’s what she would do. He would be none the wiser.
She climbed back into bed and lay on her back, bringing her shackled hands to her sex.
Glancing toward the door, she dared to dip her fingers into the wet, tight passage. Ah, it felt so good. The cuffs and chain hindered her somewhat, but she managed to work around them.
It was her body, not his, no matter what sexy fiction they maintained. She could do as she liked when he wasn’t around. A part of her knew this violation of their pact was a mistake—it would dilute the intent of her submission, but she was, frankly, just too damn horny to care. She would just have one tiny orgasm and then she would be good, she promised herself.
She rubbed her clit, letting her legs fall wide as she took her pleasure. Oh, it felt so good.
She needed this. He was wrong to tease and deny her for so long. Yes, yes, that was it. Perfect.