The Art of Submission (38 page)

**********************

Isabel

The drive back to Dylan’s place is
quick. He looks anxious to get me back and I know exactly why. He’s
still mad about the tantrum I threw and even though I’m still not
thrilled about the idea of him buying me clothes, I don’t want to
argue about it anymore. Anyway, I can’t wait to see what he has
planned for me.
Not another spanking I
hope
. I’ve had enough of that for one day.

When we get the car parked, Dylan
swiftly gets out and walks around to open the door for me. He grabs
me by my hand and practically pulls me out of the car.
Damn – take it easy there big boy.
When we’re on the elevator, he just stands burning his
blazing blue eyes into me, but not saying a word. Good Lord – the
look on his face and the way he’s standing – he looks so
dominating.
I want him now.

When we get off the elevator, he again
takes me by the hand and drags me to the front door. He’s quick
with his keys and pushes the door open. As soon as we’re inside, he
kicks the door closed and kisses me ferociously. He’s pulling my
hair and completely takes control of mouth, his wet thick tongue
possessing me completely.
Holy
deliciousness
. He pushes me backwards towards his
bedroom, the whole time both of us undressing each other
frantically. I can’t get his clothes off fast enough and for once,
my hands are cooperating. I’m trying not to think about how awkward
I look as I frantically pull his clothes off, and I’m just focusing
on the heat of the moment, and there’s plenty of heat.

When we get to his room, I finish
undressing and I unbutton his pants. He’s watching me with a
pleased look on his face, and his dick looks very pleased to see
me, too. It’s fantastically hard and I can’t wait to get my mouth
around it. I no sooner attempt to give him head when he steps away
from me.
No fair. I want
it
.

I’m kneeling in front of him when he
instructs me to sit back, put my head down and my hands in my lap.
Then he says he doesn’t want me to look at him or speak unless told
to do so. What’s going on?
Oh. I get
it
. I’ve dreamt about this.
Yes.
This is me being his submissive. I want him
to see that I can be a good girl for him, so I do what he tells
me.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He says in
a low husky voice and I hear him walk out of the room.

Where’s he going? Why did he leave? I’m
starting to feel silly sitting here alone in this room. How long
does he plan on leaving me like this? To my joy, Dylan is back
after only a few minutes. He stands in front of me not moving for a
moment and then he moves towards the bed. I sneak a glance up and
he’s holding several items in his hands – items from his kinky
room. What does he plan on doing with those?
Like I don’t know.

He walks back towards me and I feel his hands
in my hair.

“Look at me now, sweetheart.”

My insides melt at his words. His eyes are
smoldering and the way he’s standing above me is orgasm inducing. I
could sit here looking at him like this for hours.

“Do you want me?” He asks.

Yes.
Of course
I want him.

“Yes, what, Isabel. I want to hear you say
it.” He says almost whispered.

“Yes, I want you Dylan. Now.
Please.”
I say without hesitation.
I’m here being a good submissive, aren’t I?

He reaches down and helps me to my feet
and guides me towards his bed. He instructs me to lie on the bed
and now I get a better look at what he’s has laid out. Some rope, a
strange black strap looking thing, and a paddle?
Oh shit.
I don’t have a chance to
think before he pulls my gaze to him.

“Lay down on your back, sweetheart, hands
above your head.” He says firmly.

Yes. Okay. I can do this.
I want to do this.
I lay on the bed
like he said and he moves stealthily as he ties each of my wrists
to his bed posts. The rope is soft and not too tight, and it feels
so erotic. Then he grabs the black strap and holds it up to
me.

“See this? This is called a G-spot link. It
makes hitting your G-spot easier, okay?”

My G-spot?
Yes
– make her sing Dylan
! He takes the strap and Velcro’s
a link around each of my ankles, with the strap facing inward. Then
he buckles the strap together and pulls another piece of the strap
that brings my ankles close together. He holds the strap that’s
between my ankles and uses it like a steering wheel, controlling
the way my legs and hips move. It feels fantastic having him in
control like this. No more vanilla for me.
This is how I like it
.

He pushes my knees up to my chest and
I’m angled so that my booty is tilted upward.
Holy exposure.
This feels just plain awkward and
I don’t even want to know what the view from his end looks
like.

Still holding the strap, he leans down
and runs his tongue along my pulsating pussy and it feels so damned
good. He can do that all day long. He sucks my clit and tugs at it
with his mouth. Then I feel a bite on my bottom that takes me by
complete surprise and I hear myself scream a little.
Shit that hurt.
Then I feel his
fingers inside me, moving around as if he’s searching for
something. Oh…
there is it
.
Just what he was looking for. That special spot designated only for
Dylan’s use.
Yes…
the feeling
is so intense and I try to move but these damned ropes around my
wrists won’t let me and the way he’s holding my legs, I can’t
escape his persecuting fingers. Then he shifts my hips to the side
and he pushes himself into me.
Yes
. I love how he feels inside of me. He’s
moving at an agonizingly slow pace, in and out… in and out. I just
want him to pick up the pace a little… just a little…
please
. I feel myself start to
tighten around him and just when I feel like I’m going to cum, he
pulls out of me.
No
!

“
No. Don’t stop, Dylan.” I beg
him.
Please
… I just want
more.

Then he adjusts the strap so that my legs
move apart a bit and he pulls up so that now I’m utterly and
completely exposed to him. With my legs apart like this, I can see
him better and he looks magnificent. His eyes are dilated and he
looks every bit the dominant that he claims to be.

Then he reaches across the bed and
grabs the paddle and holds it up for me to see. Why is he showing
it to me like that? Is that his way of asking for permission to use
it? I doubt that. It’s more of a warning, I think. The paddle has a
furry side and he gently starts rubbing it along my bottom. It
feels soft. Then comes a gentle smack and it feels so good. I can
handle this. The next blow is harder and it startles me.
Here we go.
Then he strikes the
other cheek even harder yet. The sound is loud and echoes off his
bedroom walls. My stars…
it feels so
damned good
. How is that possible? Then he rubs the
fur on my bottom again.
Oh heavens
yes.

I’m waiting for the next spank when he asks
me, “Do you know why I’m doing this, Isabel?”

I sort of know, but I don’t know how he wants
me to answer him.

“Because of your defiance to my wanting to
spend money on you. I’ll spend my money on you whenever and however
I fucking want, do you understand?”

Yes, Dylan. Whatever you say.
Whatever you want.

“And you won’t do that again, will you?” He
asks strictly.

He slaps my bottom again and I can
barely contain myself…
no.

“No what, Isabel?” He says smacking my other
cheek equally as hard.

Damn it that hurts … “No, Dylan. I won’t do
that again.”

When I finally pry my eyes open, Dylan
is smiling deviously. He puts the paddle aside and then starts
fingering me again. His skilled fingers find my happy spot all too
quickly and he starts pulling and probing it. He shifts my hips
again.
Dear sweet Lord
. The
feeling is staggering, stunning, overpowering…
I’m going to cum… yes.

Then he pulls his fingers out. No, no,
no. Why? Dylan, no.
Please, please don’t’
stop.

“
Are you frustrated, Isabel?” He says
with his eyes narrowed and a small smile on the corner of his
mouth.

What the hell? He’s purposely trying to
frustrate me? Okay,
I get it.
Enough cruel orgasm-depriving games. I start tell him that
he’s being cruel, but I stop myself. I just want him to fuck
me
now.

“Do you think you deserve this cock after the
way you misbehaved?” He says with an eyebrow raised and a wicked
smile on the corners of his mouth.

Damn him. Why must he taunt me
so?
No, I don’t deserve it, but I don’t
care, I want it anyway.

He unbuckles the strap and brings my
legs behind him and then rebuckles the strap. My legs are now
wrapped around his waist and he enters me again.
Yes – this is what I want
. This
yummy feeling of his big thick hardness driving in and out of me.
He bends down towards me so that we’re face to face and his
thrusting increases.

Holy mother of sex
Gods.
I can’t take it – the pain is too intense. I
hate to be a wet blanket, but the way I’m angled and his size are
too much for me.

“
Dylan, please… not so hard.” I
beg.

“
Sorry sweetheart, you just feel so
fucking good.” He says out of breath and apologetic.

He slows his tempo and eases off me
ever so slightly.
Yes – thank you.
That’s better. The feeling starts to build in me again as I
get used to this position. I start to move in rhythm with him,
pushing back against his moving hips. His neck is right near my
mouth, teasing me, begging me to be bitten. Before I have the
chance to think, I lean up and bite down hard on him. He tastes so
good, I can’t resist. The taste of his salty skin, the wet sounds
and the way my G-spot is singing are all too powerful. I feel
myself tighten and I start to cum. Dylan pulls out of me in double
time and -
holy pressure valve
– shoots his warm cum all over the front of me.

His eyes are closed and his mouth parted just
enough that I can see his skilled tongue. The sunset lighting
coming through his bedroom windows is glowing all around him and
he’s a vision to behold. He looks like a sexy-as-hell dark
angel.

He finally opens his eyes and he just stares
at me, eying his handiwork all over my belly and chest, and my own
mess between my legs. He’s smiling naughtily and I could be wrong,
but I swear he likes what he sees.

He unbuckles the strap and brings my
legs in front of me and releases me from my ankle bindings. Then he
reaches over me and releases each of my wrists. I bring them in
front of me to inspect the damage. I was pulling on them pretty
good and so they’re sore and tender.
Oh
dear
. There are rope burns on them and they’re quite
red. Is this what Dylan’s wrists felt like earlier? His looked
worse than this, so probably not. I rub them a bit hoping some of
the redness will subside, but no such luck.

Dylan is watching me closely and I hold my
hands out to him. I want him to kiss them and make them better, and
he does. He tenderly kisses each wrist and it really does make them
feel better. Now for my ass. It’s sore also. Should I ask him to
kiss that, too? No. As much as I’d like to see the look on his face
when I asked it, that wouldn’t be polite.

Now for this territorial marking all over the
front of me. Even though I like the site of it, I can’t very well
leave it there. “Can I use your shower?” I ask Dylan.

“Of course. You know where the restroom is.
I’ll join you in a few minutes, okay?”

Dylan and I in the shower –
together?
Yes, please. As I get off
the bed I feel his hand on my bottom again. Damn him. It’s still
sore and I’m seriously tempted to tell him to kiss it. Payback
baby, oh yes,
I’ll get mine
I
think salaciously to myself as I give him the stink eye. As usual,
he laughs.

When I get into the bathroom, I inspect
my ass in the mirror.
Yuck.
There’s a reason why our butts are behind us – so we don’t
have to see them.
Holy
hideousness
. Is that really what my ass looks like?
Why oh why did I look at it? I’ll be traumatized for life now.
Never mind the red marks. How depressing.

I jump in the shower, still reeling
from the vision of own hideous booty. The shower is
enormous.
Nice
. This is
high-end living right here. It’s like the kind of showers I’ve seen
in pictures of really expensive spas, with double rain shower
heads, stone walls and flooring and even a seating area. It’s a bit
over the top, but I’m not complaining. The water feels divine on my
sore bottom and wrists. I reach over and lather myself with some
expensive body wash.
Yum - it smells like
Dylan
. Where is Dylan? I no sooner get my hair
shampooed and rinsed and I feel him behind me, pulling me
close.