The Big Book of Submission (5 page)

I smiled as much as I could manage through the lingering burn in my abs. “I think we need to schedule
more sessions. Maybe three times a week?”

She clucked her tongue, her eyes devious behind the slight fog on her glasses' lenses. “You'll have to come to my home office if you want to work out that often.”

BUTCH UNBOUND

Salome Wilde

I
caught myself holding my breath again. I was spread, impossibly wide, in every sense of the word. No one before Lakeisha had ever been able to do this to me, had ever wanted to. I felt the burning in my lungs that meant I would have to give in, take another ragged breath that would communicate my submission better than any pleading or safeword. Lakeisha was opening me, owning me, and I craved her control with every inch of my bound, aching flesh.

“My baby's pretty pussy needs fucking, doesn't it?” she mocked, tugging my pubic hair.

I squeezed my eyes shut as my hands balled into fists, straining against the cuffs that were locked behind my head.

Lakeisha yanked.

I yelped, a sound so wrong I'd never regain my reputation if anyone other than Lakeisha ever heard it.

“Tell me, baby,” she cooed, as if she hadn't nearly brought tears to my eyes with that merciless grip. She was teasing me now, fingertips trailing through the thatch she'd threatened to shave on more than one occasion.

I bit my lip, desperate not to yield to her manipulation. I was no one's “baby.” My cunt was no “pussy,” pretty or otherwise. I longed to wrench my ankles free and slam my legs together, trapping her hand with the dark, thick, muscular thighs I showed to no one but my Lakeisha-girl.

She threaded her fingers deeper and squeezed. When she pulled up, I hissed through my teeth. “Bitch.”

Lakeisha laughed. “That's right, baby,” she answered, voice sweet and rich as only my vicious black femme could make it. “I'm a bitch.” She released and patted me gently, condescendingly. “But right now? You're
my
bitch.” She shoved two fingers into me, hard.

“Fuck!” I hated this just as much as I needed it. Even though I knew it was coming. Even though I hadn't given in to the taunting this time. Even though I was bigger, stronger, rougher. None of it did me a bit of good. My cunt was hers because I wanted it to be. I was her bitch and then some. I twisted in the bonds, and she laughed more fully as she climbed over me and shoved her sweet, shaved pussy in my face as she added a third finger and pumped me.

“Shit,” I gasped. “Lakeisha…shit!” Any other complaint was smothered with dark, wet flesh, ground across and over my mouth. Her weight on me meant I couldn't even get my tongue in to taste her. I had to take whatever she gave, however she chose to give it. I could barely breathe, barely see the round, honey-brown ass rocking back and forth as she took her pleasure from me at both ends. Slowly, I yielded to the rhythm, as I did every time, mind diving into shame as my body rose to glory.

To our friends, I was Lakeisha's Daddy and she was my girl. My arm fit just right around her slim waist, fingertips tucked into the front pocket of her tight jeans. She loved my short natural and I loved the dark curls that rippled over her shoulders. She made me flex for her, and I made her come for me.

The first times we'd fucked, it was just as it should've been: I gave and she took. Fingers, strap-on, mouth: I made my baby girl peak and shatter and beg for more. The power was delicious and familiar. But Lakeisha wasn't satisfied with familiar. She loved her Daddy, but she wanted to love Lisa, too.
Lisa
. I wasn't “Lisa” except on my driver's license and at Mama's house for the holidays. Even at my warehouse job, they used my last name.

But New Year's Eve betrayed me. Long before midnight I was drunk as hell, and my girl was too gorgeous in her electric-blue thong to deny. She had me tied up in knots even sailors don't know before I
thought about stopping her. By then it was too late for anything but straining and cursing until she broke me…and claimed my heart forever.

I was arching into her thumb as it worked my clit while she rubbed my soaked face raw. I could feel her swell as I fought climax. The butch in me needed her to come first, while the dominant femme in her wasn't going to have it. The fight was terrible and beautiful until I felt her hand at my rib cage, edging along the bottom of the bandages that bound my chest. From beneath her flushed, swollen pussy, I whined.

Lakeisha paused, then slowly climbed off. Her wide brown eyes locked with mine. While one thumb brushed my clit with determined lightness, the other was slipping beneath the elastic of the binding.

Every tensed muscle in my body was screaming
no
as my mouth hung open. Having Lakeisha control me sexually had made love and lovemaking new and miraculous. From oversized anal plugs to devious paddlings—I never balked. But this…was this the ultimate submission my girl needed?

I was terrified. I felt cold sweat breaking out as Lakeisha's first finger over the cloth met her thumb beneath. I imagined her reaching into the night-table drawer to take out the little knife she liked to tease my pussy with and slitting the bindings completely. My small, soft breasts were released—large, dark nipples suddenly hers to lick and bite, pinch and pull…or suckle, becoming my baby in a way I couldn't bear to contemplate. I pulled my
mind away as she tugged at the formerly tucked tail of the bandage. Time stopped.

Lakeisha had seen me wrap so many times. She'd even helped me for a week after I'd sprained my wrist. And we'd been naked together plenty, stripping down after a workout or showering together. But we'd never fucked that way. We'd hooked up in the first place because she liked who I was—a bound butch in oversized shirts, baggy pants, and kicks. Nothing we did in bed would change that, I thought. Clearly, though, there was a part of me she still wanted to expose. My parted lips couldn't form the word
Don't
as my gaze hardened, betraying the truth that while I didn't want limits to my submission, I didn't want this, either.

Lakeisha looked away, and then gave the tiniest of nods as she carefully but firmly tucked the cloth back in. She sighed softly as she lay beside me, wrapping an arm across my chest, her head on my shoulder. My heart was pounding in my ears. “Why did you stop?”

“Hard limit, Daddy,” Lakeisha murmured, kissing my collarbone. “Not yours, but mine.”

I smiled.

THE PRODIGY

Valerie Alexander

T
he gray fog of dawn was just beginning to lift over Las Vegas as I left my sleeping boyfriend in bed. Philip looked as pretty as ever in the sheets, his dark-gold hair and rich-boy features turning him into a sleeping Adonis, but I felt no urge to wake him up. Once he'd been my Master, my dom who knew how to degrade and subjugate and thrill me. But over the last week, it had become obvious that our once-hot connection was dead.

We'd come to visit his very rich and very kinky friend in Vegas to rekindle the kind of games we used to play. His friend's enormous villa was dedicated to BDSM, with frequent play parties and an elaborate dungeon. But Philip had been at the casinos every day and drinking every night; he hadn't dominated me once since we got
here. I didn't actually care if he ever touched me again, but I was aching for a good hot scene with some beautiful brute.

I was also aching to see Alejandro one more time, but that wouldn't be happening, either.

Alejandro was the nineteen-year-old pool boy. Aloof, tanned and silent, he'd been my secret pleasure on this vacation. His face was moody rather than handsome, his full lips curling into a sneer when the other guests gushed over his bronzed chest and tattooed arms. But the way he flexed his hip to net the leaves out of the pool, letting his pants fall down just enough to show off his rock-hard abs, said he wasn't immune to being admired. Alejandro knew how to package himself: the unattainable boy who was all ink, muscle and attitude.

I hadn't bothered flirting with him. He was way too young to master me the way I needed, despite his lofty arrogance. And besides, I'd heard of other villa guests trying and failing to enjoy an hour of his surly charms. So I made small talk with him while I was tanning and left it at that.

Unfortunately today was Sunday and I figured he didn't come in on the weekends. I wouldn't see him again before leaving tonight. But I tried not to think about that as I walked through the house in my short cotton nightie. All the other guests were sleeping in whatever bedrooms they'd staggered off to hours earlier. One couple was asleep on the sofa, her naked but for her
pearls, him naked but for her panties. I stepped outside, my bare feet cold on the patio. Then I heard a familiar noise: the click of the backyard gate.

My heart lifted with joy as Alejandro slipped through. His normal disdainful expression changed to surprise.

“Why are you here on a Sunday?” I asked.

“I come every day,” he said. “But I'm supposed to come early on the weekends so I don't disturb the parties.”

The way he said
parties
indicated he knew exactly what kind of parties went on here. My cheeks went hot. It was both arousing and humiliating to think of Alejandro knowing the dirty things I liked: being handcuffed, spanked, forced to expose my pussy to interested strangers while Philip grinned.

“So I gotta say, you don't seem like the rest of the freaks who come here,” he said, as he began to net the insects and fallen leaves off the surface. “All that weird equipment inside—are you really into that kinky shit?”

Despite the scornful attitude, I sensed a real curiosity in the question. Those dark almond-shaped eyes lifted to mine and my knees went weak.
Get a grip
, I reminded myself. He was fifteen years younger than me, probably vanilla and probably not interested in me that way.

“Answer me,” he said. “What's your deal?”

I summoned my courage. “My
deal
is that I like being dominated. I like being tied up, ordered around—mastered.”

Alejandro put a chlorine tablet in the pool filter. Then
he walked up to me and pulled my cotton nightie over my head without warning. Instinctively I reached for it but he was faster than I was, and bound it around my wrists.

“Okay then,” he said with a smirk. “You've got a new Master now. Follow me.”

Feverish thrills soaked my pussy as he led me through the gate to the street. The sky was streaking pale with dawn and I shivered from both the coolness and the excitement at being naked on the sidewalk. The neighborhood of stucco villas was still silent but a dove-blue sky was lightening over the tiled roofs; any early morning dog-walkers would see us.

Alejandro packed up his net and canister of chlorine tablets, then roughly pulled me up into the van. My clit twinged as he shut the doors; I was at his mercy at last.

He yanked me forward and fingered my cunt. “Is this what you like, you little slut?”

“Yes,” I muttered. Alejandro wasn't doing too bad for a youngster.

He withdrew his fingers and slapped my clit. “Don't talk.”

He sat down on a box and pulled me over his lap, giving my ass a firm smack. Part of me rebelled at this kid who was practically half my age thinking he had the authority to spank me. The other part melted in the delicious humiliation of it.

His hand came down again and again, spanking me with one hand as he rubbed my clit with the other.
“Look at you,” he said contemptuously. “You're dying for my cock, aren't you?”

I wiggled desperately on his lap. “Yes, please…”

He slapped my clit again. “I told you not to talk. Now bend over and spread your legs.”

He pushed me over the box. The cardboard was cool against my inflamed clit as he forced my legs open and drove his swollen head into me, so rough and demanding that I cried out with excitement. Alejandro responded by holding me down by the nape, a reminder of my powerlessness. Then he began to pump into me in a relentless rhythm, while I twisted ecstatically beneath him.

His narrow hips worked against me, fast and urgent. I hadn't been fucked like this in years, or dominated and held down with such a strong, commanding hand. My pussy swelled with what felt like a slow-motion supernova, exploding and then drenching my thighs. I was still throbbing as Alejandro pulled out of me, turned me around and came on my face, decorating my mouth and cheek with ropes of come.

He stepped back, breathing hard. He looked stunned for just a moment. Then his customary mask came down and he was the aloof pool boy again, remote and disinterested.

“I, uh, I got houses to get to,” he said without meeting my eyes.

Being dismissed was the perfect final touch of debasement. Alejandro untied my nightgown from my wrists and I tugged it on before heading back to the gate. My
boyfriend Philip was just waking up as I entered our bedroom.

“Who the hell were you with?” he asked, staring, confounded, at my face.

“A prodigy,” I answered, and got into the shower.

BEAUTIFUL

Teresa Noelle Roberts

A
s Alexis led Jane to the chain web in the center of the still-empty dungeon and told her what she planned for the first play party since the surgery, Jane's heart threatened to burst out through her scarred chest. It took all her courage not to safeword or simply start a plain vanilla argument with her girlfriend and domme.