The Secret Life of a Submissive and Bonds of Love: 2-book BDSM Erotica Collection. Sarah K

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СКАЧАТЬ down to me. There was a part of me that had been thinking I could have a ‘real’ relationship alongside a BDSM one – naïve but true. In an early conversation Max had pointed out that it was quite possible to have a BDSM relationship and never have full sex or in fact any sexual contact.

      Never? I’d asked. Never, he’d said. Other couples did it where one was involved with a partner who didn’t engage in BDSM.

      It had all sounded so perfectly feasible when I’d got my clothes on and we’d been deciding whether to have the sea bass or the lamb for lunch. I had taken everything Max had said to heart, and fondly imagined going off to see someone like Max for a weekly spanking and a bit of light bondage, alongside another more conventional relationship, a bit like going to a t’ai chi class or having my legs waxed. I realized now that for me that would be close to impossible. I was aching for him.

      ‘Please,’ I sobbed. ‘Please.’

      ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘And that’s the fourth time you’ve broken the rules.’

      ‘Please, Sir,’ I gasped.

      How could you feel like this, share this intimacy, this exposure with someone, and then go home to a boyfriend or a husband, girlfriend or wife? I realized I couldn’t switch off my emotions and isolate my sexual need; I needed to have both together in the same relationship.

      My body was aching for Max in a great rush of animal lust – something that in all the years I’d been having sex, even lust-driven hungry sex, I don’t think I’d ever felt before. It was earthier and more physical than anything I had ever experienced. And I could sense Max’s excitement growing along with my own. I heard his breath quicken to match mine. Maybe this was where mutual desire overturned the rules?

      Eagerly I leaned into his caress. I brushed myself against his engorged cock. It felt like a challenge. Maybe I could make him break the rules. How hard could it be? I was an instant away from the long, tumbling descent towards orgasm. I wanted him to take me there. I wanted to take him with me.

      I arched my back. I pressed down onto his lap, brushing myself against his fingertips, seeking his caress, gasping as he stroked my clitoris, riding the great waves that threatened to drown me. I groaned, feeling the first ripples – which was exactly the moment Max stopped.

      I howled in protest.

      Max laughed and let me slide gently onto the floor.

      ‘I said not yet,’ he said, in answer to my indignation and frustration.

      ‘Not yet?’ I gasped, ragged, hot and desperate.

      ‘It’s your own fault. You can’t stick to the rules. No talking. And here, with me, I’m the Dom and things happen according to my timetable, not yours.’

      ‘Are you planning to punish me some more, Sir?’ I said, thinking about how much I’d enjoyed my punishment up until now.

      ‘Possibly. By stopping now and going home if you can’t be quiet.’ He knelt down beside me and unlocked my handcuffs, gently massaging each wrist in turn before taking off my mask. I blinked in the light and peered up at him. His eyes were alight with mischief and delight. I suspected mine were ringed with mascara.

      ‘How are you feeling? Are you OK?’

      ‘Yes, Sir,’ I said. He was right: it was getting easier.

      ‘Good. Would you like to touch yourself?’

      My eyes widened. No, I would not.

      ‘Well, would you?’ he repeated.

      I’d never admitted to anyone that I masturbated. Not that it had ever come up much in conversation. God, what if he asked me to do it in front of him? I said nothing but my face obviously gave me away.

      ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said. ‘From now on I forbid you to masturbate unless I give you express permission.’

      I bristled. ‘Are you serious?’

      ‘You are going to be such a pleasure to train,’ said Max, laughing. ‘I’m making a note of every time you break the rules, you know. And you will pay for every last one you break.’

      ‘Really?’ I said.

      ‘Yes, really. And that, in case you hadn’t noticed, is another one.’

      He helped me to my feet, and as he did he kneaded the tender muscles of my backside, making me wince and momentarily forget the warm, dull, throbbing ache between my legs. Finally he removed the nipple clamps, which made me yelp with pain and then gasp as the blood flooded back into the sensitive flesh. Then he rubbed them, which I thought was a kindness until I realized that actually it made the discomfort much, much worse.

      ‘While we’re playing I want you to keep your eyes down and your hands behind your back, as a sign of humility and submission. And now I’d like a cup of tea. Earl Grey. Black.’

      I stared at him. My legs were jelly, my whole body was tingling, I’d been a nanosecond from orgasm and the man wanted tea?

      ‘Be careful,’ he said. Obviously the disbelief showed on my face. ‘Remember, humility and submission. Do you have lemon?’

      I managed not to swear. Frustrated and annoyed, I teetered into the kitchen and made Max a pot of tea, on a tray with a bone-china cup and saucer, retrieved from a box of nonsense that hadn’t seen the light of day for years. I was being sarcastic. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

      ‘Very nice,’ he said, as I slid the tray onto a little table alongside the sofa.

      ‘I’m fresh out of doilies,’ I said.

      ‘Next time,’ he said, pouring himself a cup. ‘And by the way that’s another two for the punishment list. Sir and no speaking, remember? When you’re not otherwise occupied I would like you to kneel beside me.’

      ‘Kneel?’

      He nodded. ‘Assuming you want to continue with your training? Or have you changed your mind?’

      I could hear from his tone that he was serious. I knelt.

      ‘Would you like to hear about how I got into BDSM?’ he asked, setting the cup and saucer back on the side table.

      What I wanted was for him to finish what he had started, but I could hardly say that, so instead I said, ‘Yes, Sir.’

      ‘Is the right answer,’ he said.

       Chapter Six

      ‘Nature, who for the perfect maintenance of the laws of her general equilibrium, has sometimes need of vices and sometimes of virtues, inspires now this impulse, now that one, in accordance with what she requires.’

       Marquis de Sade

      ‘I was probably twenty, maybe twenty-one, and my company had sent СКАЧАТЬ