In shock, I realized I was actually fantasising about this. I needed to see what submission felt like, when offered freely to a partner that I trusted. When I wasn’t a slave, beaten and coerced into compliance. When it was Alexander to whom I surrendered.
He got to his feet unhurriedly and moved behind me in silence. I kept quiet, my chest rising and falling with each breath I took. The diamond glistened in the valley between my breasts. I wanted to remind Alexander once more that he should probably put it somewhere safer, but I refrained from speech. My Dominant had wanted me silent and I would obey. I needed to.
“Hands behind your back,” he said. I obediently laced them behind me and his skillful fingers wound rope around my wrists and just below my elbows.
I was well and truly helpless now.
Alexander took a step back and surveyed me with a grin. “Now,” he said, “we can begin the punishment.” He guided me towards the bed and helped me lie down. The position was awkward, my tied hands preventing me from lying flat on the bed, but I didn’t care. His hand closed over my bra-clad breast and that was the only thing that I could pay attention to.
If this was punishment, he could punish me every single day.
Each rough touch sent a thrill of delight through me. He pulled at my nipples, through my bra, then when he grew impatient, he pushed the fabric aside and pulled my aching breasts free and lowered his mouth on each nipple, biting, sucking, kissing, loving. I couldn’t hold back the moans; I couldn’t stop writhing around on the bed. I heard him growl as he watched my body move on the mattress. “Do you like that, cherie? Do you like waiting for your punishment?”
I made a whimpering noise that was half-assent, half-protest.
“Come,” he said, settling himself more securely on the bed and pulling my body till I lay across his lap, ass up in the air, arms bound so that I couldn’t reach back and stop him from spanking me.
But I didn’t want to stop him. I ached for the feel of his hard palm against my ass. I wanted to feel the heat rise on my skin, the sharp pain fading into a slow burn. I yearned for him.
Not yet. He liked me to wait. His hand traced firm strokes over my skin. I felt his fingers tease the bottom edge of my panties, slide beneath the lace to touch my flesh. Then he tugged at the waistband, and the gusset of the panties tightened against my * lips. “So wet,” he growled. “Do you know your panties are soaked, cherie? Do you like lying across my lap like this?”
I could feel his erection against my lower belly. His desire inflamed me. Emboldened me. I shifted so that I would rub against him and when I spoke, my voice had a tone in it that I hadn’t heard before. I sounded like a woman who was secure with being wanted. A woman who wasn’t afraid of being the object of this man’s desire.
“Yes Sir,” I breathed. “I like being wet for you. I like knowing you are hard for me.”
He caressed my lower back. “Ah, Jenny. With you lying across me this way, wearing so very little, with the barest glimmer of your * lips visible from under those panties, how can I be anything other than hard?” I felt his fingers part the cleft of my buttocks and find my tightly clenched asshole. “Relax this for me,” he instructed. His forefinger teased that bundle of nerves until I obeyed. Alexander wouldn’t hurt me.
“Do you want this, cherie?” His voice was warm. His hands traced gentle circles on my skin and suddenly, I did want it. I’d used a buttplug on myself in an effort to erase some of the painful memories I had about anal sex with Dylan and his guards, but this would be more. This wouldn’t just be hitting the pause button on fear. This would be healing, if I wasn’t too afraid.
“I want this,” I whispered, reaching within me for courage. “Alexander, will you be gentle?”
His lips touched my neck. His stubble scratched at my skin. “Jenny,” he said. “I promise you, you’ll never have anything to fear from me.” His fingers smoothed the wetness from my * to my asshole, slowly opening me up to his touch. “You’ve worn a butt plug before?”
“Yes Sir.” Every nerve ending clustered around my asshole was screaming in pleasure, responding to the steady way his fingers controlled me.
“And you’ve had anal sex before as well?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good,” he replied. “Then you know it can be pleasurable. If you relax, if you surrender to it.”
No. I didn’t know. I knew that it burned and it hurt and everything ached after. I wanted to lie to him, but I couldn’t. Not here. This moment demanded honesty. “It was never pleasurable for me,” I confessed.
I felt him go still for an instant, then his hand resumed stroking me. His lips once again kissed my neck. When he spoke, his voice had a forced lightness to it. “It will be,” he said, “or we’ll stop. It’s that simple. You have a safe word, cherie. You should never be afraid to use it.”
His hand stroked the globes of my ass. “But first, your spanking.”