Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica (11 page)

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Authors: Sinclair Sexsmith,Miriam Zoila Perez,Wendi Kali,Rachel Kramer Bussel,Gigi Frost,BB Rydell,Amelia Thornton,Dilo Keith,Vie La Guerre,Anna Watson

BOOK: Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica
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“You know what you’re gonna do?” She asks slowly, a particular flavor of serenity in Her voice. One could almost mistake it for sweetness. That is, if one didn’t know any better. Her tone, cadence, even Her energy have completely shifted in these brief moments, and the calm of it all leaves me frozen in midair. She has regained a firm, undeniable upper hand. “You’re going to press your palms up against that brick wall in front of you and you’re not going to move a single, solitary muscle, not an inch, not even one millimeter.”
Mental bondage. The cruelest kind. A kindness and a cruelty twisted together into a sick, sadistic love child. Sure, I love to struggle, fight back, purposely act out, and behave inappropriately. I daydream for hours on end, plotting new and creative ways to fuck with Her head, wanting to earn every blissful moment of agony and ecstasy. But disobey a direct command? I simply cannot. And She knows this. Tether me to a pole and whip me relentlessly—I can writhe around uncontrollably, my body flailing violently with very little repercussion, rejoicing in my tremulous dance. Here I must display complete control with every breath, cautious not to neglect for even half a second that I am utterly confined by invisible shackles. The ultimate subjugation. This. This intellectual and physical mind fuck. This is what torture is really all about. The pain is in my head, the pleasure in my body. And when one becomes too much to handle, they switch places.
She stands back for a minute to watch it all sink in. Satisfied but not yet sated, She decides I haven’t experienced sufficient humiliation and degradation, so She bends me over further still. Meticulously following Her orders, I’m careful to only move of Her volition; the palms of my hands scrape against the brick as She poses me exactly to Her liking. The cerebral hold She’s got on me far from necessitates any physical assistance, but it pleases Her to leave me as exposed, tormented, and defenseless as possible. So She uncoils a length of thinly gauged crimson red rope from Her saddle bag and kicks my legs apart. It is even more challenging to obey now that I have been deprived of practically any sense of balance; my body wants to give out, but my arrogant nature can only be characterized as quite the determined little brat who never backs down. So I steel my perseverance on the inhale, revel in my suffering on the exhale.
Working swiftly and skillfully, it’s only a matter of minutes before She has my pussy splayed and expertly displayed for any passerby to savor and the cool chill in the air to ravish. The rope is secured tightly across my most sensitive bits of flesh, purposefully, so that when I quiver slightly, I gasp for air. Should I twist my hips, I’d be brought to my knees. Even the simple act of breathing is cause for Her tethers to grate against my lips. The abrasions are sure to last for quite some time. I take great pride in knowing this. Withstanding the pull and burn, delighting in marks that act as trophies, I’ll be cherishing the pain that lingers and heals over in the weeks to come.
Amused by Her handiwork, She steps back again, admiring the view. Making me wait. Listening to my ragged breath. She waits just one more beat before returning, dick in hand, and drives into Her gaping, glistening prize. I try to keep quiet and not let on just how much I need this, but She can sense my titillation. Deciding She’s taking it too easy on me, She denies me this indulgence as quickly as She granted it, pulls out of my pussy, and a split second later is pressing the head of Her slick cock up against my asshole.
“You enjoyed yourself a little too much there, didn’t you? Spread so wide, I could practically shove my fist in too and jack myself off inside your cunt. Well, now you’re going to take it where I want it, you filthy fuckin’ whore. Every last inch of me. So you better open up.” Adding, just before She slams into me, “You’re allowed to fight me now, but just know that I’ll win. I’m not afraid to make my own hole.”
GOING THE DISTANCE
 
Elaine Miller
 
 
 
 
 
 
I
t was a Saturday night. I’ve got a thing for being exactly on time. I know it’s unreasonable, but I secretly wish everyone else felt the same. Maria said she’d pick me up at ten, and there I was at five minutes past, surreptitiously taking off my leather jacket and slinging it over a chair so I wouldn’t look quite so obsessively ready when she arrived.
At ten past, my phone rang. Not glancing at the call display, I grabbed it at once, somehow sure that Maria was going to tell me I needed to find my own way to the club. Instead it was Caine.
“Anne, you sexy thing. What are you wearing?” she asked in a mischievous tone as my stomach turned little flip-flops of joy.
“Hi, handsome!” I said, striving for cool. “Never mind what I’m wearing, you dog. And what are you doing at this hour? It’s one in the morning there.”
“But seriously, are you dressed?” said Caine, muffling a snicker.
“Yeah, I’m dressed, boots and all. I’m waiting for Maria, who is, by the way, late. I should let you go. She’ll be here any minute.”
“No, I think you should talk to me,” said Caine, and paused as a knock sounded. “Would that be someone at your door?”
Ready to chew playfully on Maria for her lateness, I crossed the short hallway and opened the door. It was not Maria. It was a very, very cute butch dyke. Reading from north to south, she had a short, sharp haircut, a shy smile, tight white tee, thick black leather belt, low-slung jeans, and brightly polished boots. I was instantly suspicious. What was an endangered species doing showing up in my townhouse complex?
“Can I help you?” I asked, meaning
Um, what?
“Don’t just stand there, let her in.” Caine chuckled in my ear. “She’s mine.”
“Good evening, Ma’am,” said the butch vision. “My name is Sammy. But you can call me anything you like.”
Oh, it was like that, was it? “I’ve only got a minute,” I said, regretfully. “I promised to—”
“Oh, Maria is in on it,” said Caine, mirth rich in her tone. “She’s standing you up tonight.”
“Well, then, come in,” I said to Sammy, who picked up a small suitcase that had been sitting out of sight by the doorjamb and squeezed past me in a respectful side shuffle. She headed immediately down the hall and turned into my office. Okay. She’d obviously been briefed.
“What’s up, devious lover of mine?” I said to Caine.
“Oh, just let her do her thing,” she said, still much too full of herself. “I miss you, and haven’t seen you in months, and won’t see you for another two months, and I just thought it’s time you have a nice surprise.”
“Was that a boot-polishing kit in that case?” I asked, heading down the hall to see what this cute stranger was doing in my office.
“Wait and see, my impatient one.” said Caine.
In the office, Sammy had shut down my somewhat antiquated computer. On the printer table, she had opened the briefcase, which held a very shiny laptop with an enormous screen, just booting up as I watched. Sammy dropped to her knees in an admittedly graceful movement and crawled under my desk, where she rooted around in the dust bunnies behind my CPU and emerged victorious with the high-speed network cable.
“You don’t seem to have a wireless router,” she explained briefly, at my inquiring glance.
She plugged the cable into the laptop and pulled a few other items from inside the case. I admired her deft touch with the computer almost as much as I’d admired her tight little ass when it had been sticking out from under my desk.
I gasped in delight as Caine appeared onscreen, holding a phone to her ear, her dark curls pulled back in a low ponytail, resplendently butch in tight black shirt with no sleeves and leather chest harness. She was leaning back in her familiar overstuffed desk chair.
“Can you see me?” she asked in my ear. “My indicator light is on.”
“You’ve got a webcam!” I exclaimed.
“Ma’am, with your permission?” Sammy held up a small camera wrapped in loops of cord.
“Oh my, yes!” I laughed with sheer delight.
“I’m glad you like my idea,” said Caine.
“Ma’am, one moment and I’ll have sound,” said Sammy. Another moment of fiddling and two tiny speakers made a chiming noise as she pulled up a dialog box on the screen and set up a skinny microphone on a spidery-looking stand.
“‘Sir? If you want to try talking now?” said Sammy to Caine.
“’Scuse, darlin’, while I switch gadgets.” She put a headset on, pulled the mic in front of her admirably full lips. “How’s this?” The sound of Caine’s voice came clearly from the speakers.
“We’re live at this end, Sir, Ma’am. The camera is sending.”
“Wow, we’re in living color!” I said with a feeling of awe as I closed my phone and dropped it in the pocket of my kilt.
“All for you to play with,” said Caine in an ominously sexy tone, one hand resting casually on her leather-clad crotch. “And I do mean all of it. Boy, present!”
“Sir! Yes Sir!” Sammy dropped to her knees again in that oddly graceful gesture. She gazed at the floor and clasped her hands behind her back. “I’m here for your use and pleasure, if Ma’am should wish.”
I looked at the screen, and then belatedly into the camera. “For me? What a thoughtful gift to help keep me warm tonight.”
I took Sammy’s chin in my hand, pulled her to face me. “You want to play with me? With us?”
“Yes Ma’am,” said Sammy. “I surely would.”
“Limits?” I asked
“Uh…Ma’am, I would prefer that my skin remain unbroken. And I have claustrophobia, so I can’t do masks or hoods. And I don’t do anything that involves animals, former food, former people, or heterosexual cisgendered men. Apart from that, I’m pretty open.”
“Excellent!” I said, glancing at the screenful of Caine. “What a pretty boy you’ve sent me. I think I’d like to see more of her. Strip, Sammy.”
Without demur, but with a show of slightly pink ears, Sammy peeled her shirt and then her sports bra over her head, revealing firm, medium-sized breasts with erect, very pink nipples. I was charmed already. She slowly unbuckled her leather belt, pulled it entirely free of her belt loops, and set it aside, a bit of attention to detail I admired. She then bent and unlaced her boots. Black leather, steel-toed, they looked both lived in and well cared for, with a shine that spoke of loving attention.
Sammy popped the buttons on her fly and peeled her jeans down her hips, her pale skin glowing in the strong light.
“Well, well, what have we here? What do you suppose that’s for?”
“Um, Ma’am, I thought you might want…um…that is, to have use of me.” Sammy was packing a moderately sized, realistic-looking hard dick, pushed low between her legs and protruding from a slackened nylon-strapped harness.
“Did you even warn her?” I asked Caine.
“No,” said Caine, “I thought she’d find out about you soon enough.”
“Ma’am, did I displease you in some way?”
“No, my cute boy, you did just fine. Leave your dick on, but tighten the harness.”
As I spoke, I briskly unsnapped my kilt and unwound it from my hips, letting it drop.
Caine made an unmistakable chortling sound and Sammy’s jaw dropped. I was sporting a dick myself, tucked through a soft, flexible leather harness and pulled down and strapped to my thigh. The strap was necessary to prevent causing a serious tilt to my kilt, because the silicone dick, while only medium-long, was tremendously thick.
“I thought you were going dancing!” said Caine.
“Yeah, I was going dancing! You never know who you’re going to meet! It’s freshly boiled and everything. Boy, go over to the top drawer in the dresser and fetch me the paddle and the red bag. I’m in a mood this evening, let’s not waste time.” I pulled a chair over to a position in front of the camera, stripped my shirt off over my head, and sat down. “Good for you, honey?” I asked Caine.
“Yeah, I can see perfectly.”
Sammy came back and stood before me, shyly, holding my lightweight carved wooden paddle and my drawstring bag of tricks.
“Drop the bag, hand me that, and get over my lap, boy,” I said, grinning, and she handed me the paddle and draped herself obediently, with some awkwardness as she tried to figure out where to place her dick so it was neither painful nor offensive. She settled on letting it dangle between my thighs, and made a soft startled sound when I grasped it with my knees. Her pale, rounded butt cheeks flexed nervously, and I yanked at her harness until the straps were spread as wide as possible, cupping her cheeks firmly and leaving me lots of area to play with.
“I am really gonna enjoy this!” I said, and gave Sammy the first ringing smack on her ass. She jumped a little and made a choked sound low in her throat.
For fun, I chose to make the paddling a bit of an interrogation.
“Why’d you agree to do this?” Smack.
“Caine asked me t—” Smack.
“Do you do everything that Caine asks?”
“I try to do everyth—” Smack.
“What did you expect when you came in the door?”

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