Read BDSM EROTICA: A Hot, Hardcore Anthology Online

Authors: Aphrodite Hunt Terry Towers Alex Anders Marie Shore Selena Kitt

Tags: #erotica, #erotic, #anthology

BDSM EROTICA: A Hot, Hardcore Anthology (17 page)

BOOK: BDSM EROTICA: A Hot, Hardcore Anthology
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Jake reached
over to the side where he’d deposited the battery operated drink mixer. It was
a self-contained spherical unit that, without the mixing appendage, vibrated
nicely. He reached around, turned it on and pressed it to her sensitive clit.
Charlene jumped at the sensation and came immediately. Her cunt closed in
around his cock, spasm after spasm rocking through him. He all but completely
withdrew but left the makeshift vibe attached to her over stimulated clit. He
held it firm as she tried to squirm away from the intrusion, but Jake pressed
forward, pushing her flat to the mattress. He knelt by the bedside and pulled
her cunt to his eager lips.

“Hold your
ankles!” he bellowed. Once she had each one firm in her hands, he pushed her
thighs wider and feasted on both her holes.

It didn’t
take long for her to topple over the edge again, screaming out his name as she
soared. He held her tight, with one arm wrapped around her waist he thrust his
tongue in her hot, dripping snatch and kept the vibrating appliance planted
against her clit, unrelenting, sadistic, and demanding in his drive to give her
more, and take everything she had to give. He drove her to the edge and pushed
her over until each orgasm blended in with the next. When he was positive she
entered the state of oblivion, he rose and quickly turned her over, spread her
thighs wide, pushing them back toward her chest, and entered her in another
quick and hard thrust- filling her tight channel with his cock. He knew she was
near spent but also knew she had more to give and more for him to take.
Charlene bordered on the brink of delirium, never before had someone pushed her
orgasmic bliss to the edge, but just when she thought she was through, she felt
Jake enter her and fill her.

This was the
crescendo, the final act that made her even more complete than a mere few
seconds ago. By what seemed like osmosis, her hands finally connected with his
flesh and splayed across his chest. As he pounded her core, she paid no notice
to the fact her knees flanked her chest, her nether regions were spread wide
and on display. No, the only thing that mattered was Jake drilling into her,
making her feel more complete than she’d ever dreamed possible. Her hands
framed his face as their eyes locked.

“Fuck me,
Jake, fuck my cunt and take me,” she coaxed and prodded. All sense of
self-consciousness was erased; nothing mattered except what he did and was
doing to her at that moment. Charlene didn’t think; she acted only on instinct,
realizing just who and what she was and was meant to be. It all clicked in her
mind at that particular moment as she gave him what she innately knew he
craved… her.

She gave no
conscious thought to the visual picture of the scene, but let herself ride on
the emotion, and in that split second realized there was nothing she wouldn’t
do for this man who over the years and in the last hour had given so much. “Take
me Jake. Make me yours, all yours!” she cried out over his grunts and groans.

“Mine. You’re
mine,” Jake uttered, lost in his own ecstasy at that point, feeling his own
release surging through his veins. He heard her words and registered her final
submission to him, and as he thrust into her for the last time before his own
orgasm claimed him, he roared… “Mine!!”

POWER PLAY:

Katie and the
Dom

By Selena Kitt

 

“It was Mr. Thomas Dunn, in the library, with the book,”
her best friend, Lori, kept saying. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have
this stupid bee in your bonnet about this whole BDSM thing!” And she was
probably right. It was quiet, polite, balding and bespectacled Mr. Dunn coming
into her library looking for “
The Erotic Bondage Handbook
” who had
created an itch she couldn’t quite scratch, who had set her, unwittingly, down
this very path, a long and winding road that now ended with Katie sobbing
uncontrollably, naked, on her knees, and choking on a ball-gag.

Katie
learned everything from books—she always had. She supposed most librarians did.
So while it started with her own copy of “
The Erotic Bondage Handbook
,”
it didn’t end there. She moved on to more titillating fare quite quickly, from
Anne Rice’s novels, written under a pseudonym, of course—there was always an
air of the obscene about the topic, no matter where she turned—to
“The Story
of O.”

She couldn’t
seem to get enough of the commanding Doms, the bright red spankings, the
maddening restraints and there was something about the allure of a flogger that
promised to sting like bees and fall like rain on the tender, untouched terrain
of her pale white flesh that left her breathless and desperate, twisted in her
sheets at night, crying out with longing.

And then she
started going to the BDSM Internet sites. At first it was just to glean
information, and then, she had to admit, to meet people. Maybe there was
someone out there, someone local, who might be interested in teaching her?
Because more than anything, Katie wanted to learn. She wanted to be the one on
her knees in front of her master, following his lead, giving herself over
completely to his desires.

Well she’d
gotten what she wanted, and as Lori, from whose mouth dripped the most tried
and true clichés, had warned before she went to meet Patrick for this
first-ever play-date, “You should be careful what you wish for!” Lori was also
full of stories about serial killers who posted ads on Craigslist just like
Patrick’s, psychos looking for their next eager, willing victim. Lori had been
sure that Katie was doing this at her own peril.

And Lori had
turned out to be absolutely correct.

Once Katie
was naked and shackled and gagged, she’d discovered something she didn’t
expect—she was afraid. This man wasn’t a psycho. He’d made her sign an
agreement, they’d negotiated a safeword and limits, they’d worked out the
scene, just exactly what he would do to and for her. She knew she was taking
some risks. She was, after all, in his basement, in a soundproof, padded
room—but it was a nice, suburban house with a picket fence for god’s sake! And
Lori knew where she was and why she had come. She had safeguards.

So why was
she trembling with fear?

As Patrick
plucked equipment off the wall—a crop, a flogger, things they’d discussed—she
suddenly realized her mistake. She didn’t trust him. For whatever reason, she
didn’t trust this man to take her where she needed to go. In fact, she was
quite sure he couldn’t, that this, whatever it was they were playing at, was
wrong. After all her anticipation and dreaming about this moment, she knew, as
Lori would say, “with every fiber of her being,” she needed to stop.

She knew her
safeword—she’d had it in her head for months and had told Patrick what she
wanted to use—but she couldn’t say it because the red ball gag in her mouth
made her effectively silent. He’d given her clear instructions though on how to
“tap out” if she was gagged—three short taps on the mat and the scene would
end. Except her hands were restrained above her head. And she was sure Patrick
hadn’t anticipated her wanting to end things before they even really began!

Patrick
turned toward her, tall and lanky, a handsome specimen of man in his snakeskin
boots and leather pants, his shirtless chest smooth, his belly flat and ridged
with muscle. There wasn’t a thing in the world wrong with him. She liked him a
great deal, in fact, had since the beginning, or she wouldn’t have agreed to
any of this in the first place.

You’re
just being stupid,
she tried to reason herself out of her fear.
It’s
butterflies, that’s all.

Except some
part of her knew it wasn’t.

She’d read
an article on one of those endless BDSM sites she’d perused over the past year
written by a submissive waiting for “the one.” It was about the woman’s
experiences, going to clubs, doing scenes, all the while feeling unfulfilled,
because even if it was pleasurable, even if each Dom took her just where she
wanted to go, it all felt empty because she hadn’t found “the one.” And of
course, the end to the tale was how she felt when it finally was right, when
she found “the one” and they lived happily ever after.

And as much
as Katie had tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew that Patrick wasn’t
“the one” and anything they did together was going to leave her feeling just
the same—hollow and unsated. There had to be a way out of this. Katie tried to
speak but the gag did its job quite well, trapping her tongue, making anything
but grunting impossible. Besides, Patrick’s gaze was on her body, not her face.
She felt the heat of it, the way he looked at her breasts, his eyes dipping to
the dark triangle of hair between her thighs.

She tried
again, but Patrick was focused on the crop in his hand, trailing it over her
shoulder and down to her breast. The “scene” had started and Katie found
herself desperate to end it. Now.
Right now.
Even as the crop flicked
over her nipple and her body responded, her pussy clenching with lust—she’d
been fantasizing about this for so long, so very long. Yet here she was, and
she couldn’t go through with it, in spite of the way her other nipple hardened
when the crop found that one too.

Katie tried
again, determined now to communicate her wishes, looking at Patrick,
desperately seeking eye contact, but he seemed transfixed by the sight of her,
bound and gagged on her knees, lost in the path his crop was taking down her
belly. She grunted, pulling at the restraints above her head, feeling her body
sway from side to side.

“Shhh,”
Patrick insisted, flicking the crop lightly but quite soundly against her hip.
The sting was incredible and brought tears to her eyes. And once the tears came
to the surface, well, that was it. It was over. There was no stopping them. Her
chest hitched as she began to cry and she grunted again, trying to say the
safeword, over and over, but Patrick’s crop was parting her pussy lips and he
was licking his own in anticipation.

She had
never felt so vulnerable and exposed, tears streaming down her face, falling
from her quivering chin in droplets onto her bare breasts. She could barely
catch a breath now let alone try to speak or communicate and, oh god, there was
snot running down her face too, just to make her humiliation complete. She hung
her head, giving up, giving in, wondering if this was what surrender felt
like—hopeless, powerless, helpless. If this was it, she didn’t want any part of
it.

“What in
the hell are you doing?”

Katie looked
up at the booming sound of an unfamiliar voice. The man who appeared was like a
bigger-than-life version of Patrick—the same dark hair and eyes, the same broad
forehead and full mouth, but he was twice the other man’s size, his body
literally filling all available space in the doorway.

Patrick
straightened, frowning, taking a step backward from both her and the looming
figure. “I’m… wait, what are
you
doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at
work?”

“Did this
woman give her consent?” The man stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving
Katie. He knelt by her side and the moment his hands reached for her gag, she
felt her body relax, the restraints holding her arms up going taut, taking her
weight.

“Of course
she did!” Patrick’s voice grew angry and Katie looked at him with big eyes.
“She signed all the forms!”

“I’m Liam,”
the big man said to her, speaking softly as he worked the leather strap on the
side of her mouth loose. “You’re safe.”

“What are
you doing?” Patrick was mad—practically hopping mad, shifting his weight from
foot to foot. “She
wants
to be here. She—”

“Take
another look, little brother.” Liam sneered over his shoulder at Patrick and
then turned his attention back to Katie, taking the ball-gag gently from her mouth,
glistening with her saliva. “She’s sobbing.”

“Aardvark!
Aardvark! Aardvark!” Katie croaked hoarsely, her face full of tears and snot
and, she imagined, a great deal of mascara.

“Your
safeword?” Liam guessed, using the sleeve of his black turtleneck to gently
wipe her cheeks.

She nodded,
looking at Patrick, her chin quivering. “I tried to say… I tried…”

“But we
hadn’t even started,” Patrick whispered, his expression moving from anger to
confusion.

“You need to
pay attention!” Liam roared and Katie shrank back from him as he shifted focus
to his brother. “Every minute. Every second.
Every single fucking breath.

Liam’s jaw clenched as he turned back to Katie, his massive hands gentle as he
loosened her wrist straps, moving more carefully when he saw the fear in her
eyes.

“I said you
weren’t ready for this!” Liam’s words were meant for his brother but she felt
them resonate in her belly like a tuning fork.

Patrick
stood, blinking, his crop forgotten, falling to the floor. “Rookie mistake?” he
whispered, his face pained as he watched his brother take Katie down from the
restraints, her body collapsing. Liam cradled her against his chest.

“Not to
her,” Liam snapped, his voice growing quiet as he shifted his attention.
“What’s your name?”

“K-K-Katie…”
she managed. She was shivering now, uncontrollably, although she had no idea
why. She tried to speak, to tell him what had happened, that it was just a
mistake, she’d made a mistake, but no words would come out, just little hitches
in her throat from crying so hard.

“We’re going
to get you dressed now, Katie, okay?” Liam stroked her hair as he reached
behind her to unfasten her leg restraints one-handed. She clung to him—he was
solid as a tree trunk, but far more pliable and warm. He got her other leg
undone and pulled her fully into his arms.

“Patrick,
hand me that blanket.” There was a black one in the corner, meant for sensory
deprivation, Katie guessed—she’d read extensively about the subject. It was
soft and Liam wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her slowly to a standing
position, but her legs felt like jelly and wouldn’t hold her, so he scooped her
up, his arm under her knees, like she was just a little bit of fluff, carrying
her over to the big bed in the corner.

BOOK: BDSM EROTICA: A Hot, Hardcore Anthology
9.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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