Submission (10 page)

She tingled.

Why here? Was the Plume part of
this hotel?

Joanna checked the room number and
chose the appropriate bank of elevators. Her heart pounded as the elevator shot
skyward and again she could see her reflection in the glass. She didn’t look
like herself at all.

But she liked what she saw.

The carpet in the corridor was
thick enough to muffle any sound. Even here, the light fixtures were
chandeliers, the hardware on the doors gleaming brass. The room was at the end
of the hall and she took a breath before sliding the key into the slot.

Not knowing what to expect.

The lock clicked, illuminated a
green light, and she opened the door, her knees weak with relief. The lights
were on inside, lamps that threw a soft golden light. It was a suite, with a
large bathroom, a living room, and a bedroom with a king size bed. Everything
was off-white and luxurious. The lights of the city sparkled beyond the sheers,
heavy ivory velvet drapes hanging on either side of the windows.

And there was no one other than
Joanna in the suite.

She stood in the middle of the
living room, uncertain what to do.

The phone rang and she leapt for
it, guessing who it would be.

“Take off your coat,” the Master
said. “And put
it
on. Sit on the coffee
table where I can see you.” Joanna pivoted and looked at the coffee table. It
was stone, a huge piece of beige marble veined with gold, about two feet high
and four feet long on each side.

“Yes, Master.”

She heard the smile in his tone
when he replied. “And put your purchases beside you.”

Joanna hung up the phone. She
removed her coat, her mouth dry, and hung it up in the closet, leaving the
scarf tucked into the sleeve as if she was at a restaurant. She took the mask
and the ribbon out of her purse, then slid the purse into the pocket of the
raincoat. She shut the mirrored closet doors, then walked slowly to the coffee
table.

She sat down on it, jolted by the
cold of the stone against her bare skin. She set the coils of ribbon down, two
on each side of her. The dark purple looked good against the stone.

Then she tugged on the hood,
hearing her breath catch when it was in place.

Ankles together.

Knees apart.

Lips parted.

She placed her hands on her knees,
palm-up in submission and waited for the sound of a key in the lock.

She didn’t have to wait long.

***

Rex opened the door to the suite.
Even though he knew what he’d find, the sight of Joanna stopped him in his
tracks. She was perfect. Completely obedient. Prepared for his pleasure exactly
as he had commanded. Ivory skin. Chestnut hair. Purple satin. In a creamy beige
room that showed her off perfectly.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

He put down his bag silently and
locked the door behind himself, turning the deadbolt. He shed his coat, hanging
it beside hers, an unexpected intimacy and one that gave him a pang.

He pulled out the camera and took
three quick shots of her, knowing he’d want to relive this night over and over
again. He undressed silently, his erection springing free of his pants with a
vigor that didn’t surprise him. He stood for a moment, looking and savoring.

He crossed the room toward her
with measured steps, the carpet nearly swallowing the sound of his footfalls.
His heart was pounding and his cock was thick, pulsing. He put the camera down
silently on one of the thickly upholstered chairs.

He put his hands on her head and
she jumped slightly. He spread his fingers wide and smoothed the satin over her
skull, wishing he’d been able to put the hood on her himself. She was so tiny
that he could have crushed her in his hands, his thumbs meeting over her eyes,
his hands spanning almost all the way around.

He pressed down slightly on her
ears with his palms, knowing that they would be more sensitive, and felt her
tremble within his grasp. Her lips opened wider as his hands cradled her nape
and he held her captive there for a moment.

Every dream come true.

He didn’t want to spoil it. He
looked at her, those full breasts, the lipstick turning the nipples the same
pink as her luscious mouth, the pale smoothness of her skin. Her compliance
fired his blood as nothing else could have done. He smelled that body wash and
her own scent, rain and leather. He wanted her in so many ways that he was momentarily
uncertain where to start.

With her supposed secret desire.

The one that haunted him with the
possibilities.

He had to know for sure.

Rex tipped her head back, bent
down and kissed her. She kissed him back, their embrace so hungry and demanding
that he was shaken. So passionate. So helpless.

But he would make her more so.

He broke the kiss, held her head
so that their noses were almost touching and whispered to her. “Suck me off.”

She was surprised.

So, it was a lie.

Well, maybe he could make it become
the truth.

He lifted her hands and folded
them around his erection, those delicate fingers and their exploring caress
nearly finishing him before they started. Her hands stroked him, running along
the length of him and slipping across the peak. She cradled his balls in her
hand, squeezing slightly, then cupped his strength in her hands.

Rex watched her, transfixed by
that mouth. “Do you swallow?”

She hesitated. “Yes, Master.”

Rex thought he’d explode. “On your
knees, then,” he said, hearing the tension in his own voice. He caught her
around the waist when she didn’t move fast enough, put her on her knees in
front of himself, and braced his legs against the carpet. He held her head
again, caressing her though the satin, feeling her ears, her jaw, her temple.

When he looked down, he saw the
curve of her butt, the slim strength of her calves outlined in those black
sheer stockings, the arch of her feet in those shoes. She crossed her ankles,
drawing his attention to the narrow femininity of them. She grasped his hips in
her hands, then locked her mouth over him.

Her touch was initially delicate.
He didn’t force her to take more than she wanted, even though he was aching to
do so. He let her take her time, tormenting him with her butterfly caress. Her
tongue roved over him and eventually her lips tightened around him, drawing him
out and making him harder than he could believe possible.

He felt the gentle graze of her
teeth across his throbbing strength, the wicked flick of her tongue across the
glans. He watched her move with more confidence, taking pleasure in the
pleasure she was giving him. She sucked with greater power and Rex caught his
breath. He cupped her head, holding her fast between his palms, tipped his head
back and bared his teeth.

Rex was sure he’d lose his mind.
He started to pump, unable to stop himself, feeling the way she demanded more
of him. She took him all in her mouth, sucking and squeezing and driving him
crazy.

And the balance tipped. He felt
suddenly that she had control of the situation, that he was the slave and she
was the mistress. That she would decide when he came, and it would be at her
dictate.

No!

Rex caught himself just in time,
his body practically howling in frustration at his choice. He hauled himself
out of her mouth, picked her up and tossed her over the back of a velvet chair.
She made a sound of surprise when her belly collided with the chair back, but
he grasped her buttocks and opened her wide.

The glistening sheen of her
wetness nearly undid him, inviting him to bury himself deep and take what he
wanted.

Rex stepped back and took a
breath. He never lost control like this.

He grabbed one coil of ribbon,
bending to bind her wrists together. He knotted the ribbon to the far leg of
the chair, ensuring that she was balanced precariously on its back, ass in the
air.

“Silence!” he commanded.

Then he spanked her hard, harder
than he’d intended to do.

When she was trembling, he
instructed her to remain still and took pictures of her. She was sprawled over
that chair, red butt in the air, one foot dangling above the ground with the
shoe falling off. She looked off-balance, seized and used as he wanted.

It wasn’t nearly good enough.

Rex felt edgy, domineering, angry
that she had tried to control him. His body was still pumping, his dick hard
and his lust unsatisfied. He wanted to make this last, needed to protect the
Plume, had to collect his own thoughts.

He had to take the edge off his
lust. She quivered before him, her breath coming quickly, her puss even more
glistening wet than before. He stared at it as he smoothed a condom over his
erection. He spread Joanna wide with his hands and licked her, flicking his
tongue against her hard clitoris.

She was trembling with her
arousal, and he realized that she had been as excited by sucking him off as he
had been. She writhed, and he locked one hand over each cheek, gripping her and
holding her captive. She tried to grind herself against his mouth, bucking her
hips in a way that fed his own lust. She struggled against his grip, kicking
futilely, and he could only imagine really training her to his will.

It was an intoxicating
possibility.

He lifted his head and held her
open to his gaze. “Tell me I am your Master.”

“You are my Master,” she repeated.

“Beg me to begin your training.”

Her voice caught, her tone taking
an note of vulnerability that drove him wild. “I beg you, Master, train me to
serve your every pleasure. Please, Master. I’m yours.”

Rex drove himself into her slick
heat, loving how she gasped in surprise. She took him all, everything he had,
and he squeezed her buttocks once he was buried in her. She was tighter and
hotter than any of his fantasies and he knew he wouldn’t last.

“You’re forbidden to come,” he
whispered. “Behave yourself or there will be discipline.”

Her breath caught in an enticing
way. Her head was turned and he could see that mouth opening and closing, just
as it had when her lips had been locked around him. He gripped her hips and
moved with slow power, trying to hold on for as long as possible.

“Are you helpless?” he demanded.

“I am helpless.”

“Are you mine?”

She swallowed. “I am yours.”

“What if I never let you go?”

She flushed. She shuddered. She
struggled instinctively, tugging at her bonds and writhing beneath him in a way
that made his blood boil. Her hips were rocking, her snatch tight around him,
her legs kicking. He reached around and touched her clitoris.

And she moaned. The sound slipped
from her throat like it had been stolen from her.

It finished him. Rex came with a
roar, his fingers digging into Joanna’s hips as he crushed her between himself
and the velvet chair. His orgasm was fast and hot and only the beginning.

He smiled with satisfaction, his
chest heaving as he stepped away from her.

Now, he could concentrate.

Chapter Four

The Master was huge. Joanna
thought she’d had boyfriends who were well-endowed but none of them came close
to the Master. She’d found it surprisingly thrilling to suck him off, to take
him in her mouth and feel him respond to her caresses. She knew it was because
he hadn’t forced her. His skin had been smooth and he had tasted clean. His
responsiveness to her touch was an unexpected aphrodisiac.

She loved that even as a hooded
slave, she had held him in thrall. She’d felt a surge of power, one that made
her want more than even this.

He’d recognized it too, and
frankly she hadn’t been surprised to be spanked and taken – even if she
was still aching with lust. She obediently sat on her knees as instructed after
he untied her, not nearly convinced that he was done disciplining her. She
wasn’t really surprised when she heard the slick swish of satin.

“You’re not helpless enough,” he
said, his voice low and silky. It wasn’t rough anymore, wasn’t strained. He was
totally in control. “Let’s get you trussed, exactly the way I want you.”

Joanna shivered.

He bracketed her waist in his
hands, lifted her to her feet, held her until she had her balance in the shoes.
“Hands in the air,” he instructed and she lifted them for the sky.

She’d only get her own release if
he was pleased with her.

Joanna inhaled as the wide band of
satin wrapped around her waist. She felt him step around her, felt him tie a
knot in the ribbon behind her spine. He tugged it slowly, working the knot so
it was right against her skin. The ribbon was smooth and flat, surrounding her
waist.

He tied another knot, the second
half to what must be a square knot. She felt his breath on the small of her
back as he bent down. His teeth brushed against her skin and the ribbon was
given a sharp tug, one that made it cinch tightly around her.

He was holding one end with his
teeth, so he could knot it more securely.

So he could bind her.

The ribbon slid around her again,
smooth and cool, encircling her just above the waist. This time, he knotted it
in the front, giving it that little tug to make it an increment tighter.

Again the ribbon was smoothed
tightly around her and knotted at her spine.

He was making her a corset, one
round of ribbon at a time. She thought of the Countess’s corsets, the way her
breasts were cupped and framed by the boning, how alluring and feminine and
sexy they looked.

The ribbon went around her torso
again and again, knots front and back, the sheath of ribbon rising over her
ribcage. Finally, it was knotted right beneath her breasts, and Joanna liked
how their weight hung over it in front.