Crazy Eyes

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 13

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Ash led me into the restaurant. We wound up standing behind a bunch of other patrons all waiting to get in.

The maître d’ spotted Ash and waved him forward over everyone’s heads.

He put his arm behind my back and shouldered his way through the crowd. The other patrons gave him dirty looks, but he ignored them and the maître d’ led us inside.

He seated us at a small, round table by the tall windows overlooking the bay. A single candle burned in the center between our seats.

A bunch of other similar tables surrounded this one, but this still felt intimate, almost private even with other people siting only a few feet away.

Ash pulled out my chair for me, sat down, and ordered a bottle of wine. The maître d’ left us alone with our menus.

I opened mine. “So what’s good here?” I asked.

He didn’t touch his menu. “Everything is good here. You can’t go wrong. Just choose whatever you want.”

I looked up. “Have you been here before? How do you know everything is good here?”

“I come here all the time—because everything is good here. I come here for all my business lunches and dinners. The service is top notch and there’s no chance the staff will mess up my client’s order. It’s a no-brainer.”

“Am I a client?”

He burst out laughing. “Of course not—but I wouldn’t want the staff to mess up your order, either.”

I put my menu down. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be making all the decisions here. Maybe you could order for me.”

He beamed at me across the table. “I would love to. Do you have any allergies or dietary requirements?”

“No. I eat everything.”

He laughed again. “Thanks for the warning.”

I gazed out the window, now that I didn’t have to decide what to order. I didn’t care what I ate. I wasn’t here for the service.

“Is there a reason we’re here?” I asked. “Is there a reason you brought me here for our meeting instead of staying at your apartment.”

His eyes dipped to my body. “I brought you here so I could see you in that dress.”

I turned bright red and looked away again. “Seriously. Why are we here?”

“I told you. I think it’s time we changed things up. We’ve been confined to the apartment—and a bunch of other things. It’s time to step it up a notch.”

“What does that mean?”

“This.”

The maître d’ brought the wine just then. Ash busied himself pouring it for both of us, but I didn’t see him drinking it.

I wanted to ask a million questions—like why he played with me in the car without letting me cum. Did I do something wrong? Was that some kind of punishment?

He had never punished me for anything. Should I be worried about that?

Without warning, he leaned forward and murmured under his breath so only I could hear him. “Do you feel how turned on you were in the car?”

I didn’t even have to look at him. His voice snuck into my guts and instantly transported me back to him talking to me in the car.

The vibrator wasn’t here to do it for me, but that somehow made this so much hotter.

“You begged me to fuck you,” he murmured low. “Do you feel that? Do you feel me driving into you right now?”

I clamped my eyes shut—and felt him.

“You’re sitting on my lap facing away from me,” he half-whispered. “You’re naked with your thighs spread over my legs. You’re rocking on me and cumming hard while I pull you back into me.”

My lips pouted open. I needed to cum so bad.

“Cum for me right now, baby,” he murmured. “You did it on the phone. Cum for me. Feel me inside you fucking you until you cum.”

My mouth full open a little wider. My eyes snapped up and locked on him—and it happened.

My body froze in a spike of orgasm. I couldn’t move a muscle. I could only stare into his eyes holding me hostage.

He knew what he was doing to me. He made me so ragged and desperate in the car. He brought me right to the edge and made me beg for it.

He said he would make me cum and he did—right now.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking hot, baby. That’s right. You cum for me, don’t you? You cum when I say. That’s right. You are such a good girl to do what I say.”

The waiter interrupted by showing up to take our order. Ash took his eyes off me and ordered the same lamb chop special for both of us.

I kept my eyes on Ash the whole time. I couldn’t function like this. How was I supposed to get through dinner when he did this to me?

He turned around and saw me sitting there simmering with barely suppressed madness. I could have collapsed screaming on the floor right now—but I didn’t.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured. “You are so well-behaved. You’re a dream come true. Now slowly start to come out of it. Let your body relax and let that energy flow through you. Don’t worry. I’m going to take you back to my place and do it right. You won’t stay like this after we leave the restaurant.”

His words acted on my body as much on my mind. I shut my eyes and swallowed hard.

Just the act of doing that dissipated the energy. I could shake myself and sit up straight.

“Do you like cumming on command for me?” he murmured.

I had to struggle to keep my voice down so no one else heard me. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. You are so polite. I’m proud of you. I love the way you obey me.”

I looked down at the tablecloth. What was he going to order me to do next?

He said we wouldn’t do anything inappropriate in public. We hadn’t yet. No one could tell by looking at us that we were doing anything.

He wasn’t doing anything. He was just talking exactly like everyone else in this restaurant.

I could only trust him not to do anything inappropriate even though he kept me on the edge of my seat with this.

He studied me across the table while I squirmed and tried to act natural, but the ache between my legs didn’t go away.

All this talk about fucking him drove me crazy. I begged him in the car. Now he told me to imagine I was doing it. Would he ever? Was that just part of him making me cum for him?

He finally leaned back in his chair and twirled his wine in his glass, but I still didn’t see him drinking any of it.

I didn’t drink mine, either. I was already half out of my mind from that orgasm. I didn’t need anything making me more suggestible.

“Have you been keeping up with your research into BDSM on the side?” he asked for no apparent reason.

“Yes, I haven’t stopped reading since I met you.”

“Do you understand the concept of limits?”

“Yes, I understand the concept.”

“Do you have an idea of what your limits might be?”

I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“You said you wanted to learn about masochism so we could have a relationship. That is a considerable departure from what you told me the first night we met. You said you could never do anything like that. I assume you meant things like me using the flogger on you—but you were fine with that, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was.”

“So impact play isn’t a limit—but maybe the degree of impact is. So I need you to give me a general idea of what your limits are so I know what to work with.”

“I don’t know what my limits are because I haven’t explored anything yet.”

“So are you telling me that you want to keep going and escalating the intensity until you start to feel you’re approaching your limits?”

I shrugged and wound up squirming again. “I guess so.”

“Have you read about anything you absolutely don’t want to do?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone to make me clean the toilet with my tongue.”

He burst out laughing again. His cheeks colored. “Okay. Excellent. We’re getting somewhere.”

“Why is that funny? I can’t believe people actually do that.”

“Some people like to be degraded.”

I grimaced in disgust. “I know they do. I don’t understand that, either.”

“You don’t understand it, but would you say that’s a limit or something you just don’t know enough about to say if it’s a limit or not?”

I wound up looking out the window again. “I suppose I would say it’s something I don’t know enough about. I never thought I would ever let anyone use a flogger on me, but I did.”

“Did it ever occur to you that first night that the person using the flogger could modulate the impact so it wouldn’t be painful?”

“No, you’re right. It never occurred to me.”

“Then you might also not understand that degradation might be something you might actually enjoy. Wouldn’t you agree?”

My mind switched back to Graham. I knew nothing about the guy. I didn’t know what he looked like or anything about his personality.

Everything I thought I knew about the guy I assumed just from hearing his voice. I came to a lot of conclusions about what kind of dominant and sadist he was just from the pitch of his voice.

I could definitely picture him degrading someone. I could picture him degrading someone badly—but even that seemed so erotic that it made me shiver again.

I couldn’t imagine Ash degrading anyone—especially not me—but maybe he just held himself back from that, too—just like he held himself back on everything else. He did it to protect me from going too far.

“Yes, you’re right,” I finally answered. “I might enjoy it if it was done right.”

“Would you like to try increasing the intensity of impact play to see if you like that, too?”

I nodded down at my plate. “I was hoping you would, but I didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t know what to ask for.”

He leaned closer across the table and lowered his voice again so no one would hear him. “What did you like about what I did to you last time?”

I could never mistake that tone in his voice. He was doing it again.

“Did you like me striking your breasts like that?” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir!” I panted.

“Did it turn you on—feeling me striking you all over your body and making you cum from that?”

“Yes!” Did I make any noise that time at all?

“Did you masturbate thinking about me whipping you harder and making you scream?”

“Yes!” My voice cracked from the strain. It came out louder than it should have.

“Do you feel me whipping your pussy right now—making you raw and sore—and then fucking you when you’re so sensitive that a single touch would make you scream in orgasm?”

I couldn’t answer. I really needed to grind on my chair and make myself cum, but I couldn’t do that in a crowded restaurant.

His voice brought up all the wicked things I’d been fantasizing about every time I masturbated this week—everything I had been thinking about since Graham’s phone call.

Ash was describing the exact scenario I most often fantasized about—him whipping me and making me cum again and again just from the intensity of those brutal strikes.

I still wasn’t convinced I would go through with it, but I wanted to at least test the waters to find out.

Right then, the waiter came with our food. Ash had to lean back to make room for the guy to put our dishes in front of us.

Ash thanked the waiter. As soon as the waiter left, Ash leaned in close again. “Don’t eat until you cum for me again. I want to see you cum thinking about me whipping you.”

My chin fell on my chest and my eyes sank closed. I only had to think about it to feel another crushing orgasm take hold of me.

Those strikes of his flogger on my pussy making me cum…..Any tool he chose to use on me covering my body with his imprint…..

The very idea of him using my body the way he wanted to…..

I gasped out once before I got myself under control. I felt it. I didn’t have to try. It came to my mind instantly.

“Good girl….” he murmured. “That is so fucking good. You are so fucking hot, baby. I wish I could fuck you right now….”

My mind blurred from all these feelings. He didn’t even scratch the surface of what I wanted him to do to me.

That was the key right there. I wanted him to do it to me—all of it. Him doing it to me was the one crucial element that made it so intoxicating.

“Now start to come out of it,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful and I’m so proud of you. You are hands down the best dinner date I’ve ever had. Now open your eyes and look at me.”

My drunken eyes floated open and drifted up to meet his.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “That’s right. Come back to this moment. We’re in a restaurant about to eat dinner. Come back to this moment so you can eat your dinner.”

I looked down at my plate. The food looked delicious, but it also looked a million miles away.

“Drink some water,” he told me.

I picked up my water glass on autopilot and took a gulp. It really did make me feel better. It grounded me and brought me back to reality.

“Pick up your fork and knife, cut off a piece of your lamb chop, and put it in your mouth.”

My body went through the robotic motions of picking up my knife and fork. I started cutting a piece of my lamb chop and then put it in my mouth.

I bit into it and the taste flooded me. It brought me the rest of the way back to my senses.

I kept eating and so did he. His eyes followed my every movement.

I felt him measuring everything I did to see if I was behaving correctly, but his attention made me feel better.

He didn’t just take me to that place and leave me there. He brought me back. I could function now and get through the rest of the meal without anyone around me noticing anything wrong.

End of Chapter 13.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 12

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I drove home from work and checked my closet to decide what to wear to Ash’s apartment tonight. He hadn’t texted me to give me any instructions, so I decided to go with something casual. He seemed to prefer that.

I laid out my outfit. I was just taking off my shoes when someone rang my doorbell.

I pulled the door open and found a delivery guy standing there. He held out a large box. “Delivery for you, Ma’am.”

“I didn’t order anything,” I told him. “There must be some mistake.”

He turned the box around and read the address label. “Lucy Kelso, 4573 Oxford Crescent?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t order anything.”

He handed me the box. “You can check the packing slip inside and contact the sender. Sign here.”

He held out his phone. I scribbled my signature on the screen.

I didn’t have time to mess around with this. I needed to get ready to go to Ash’s apartment, but curiosity got the better of me.

I opened the box and got all my questions answered when I found another handwritten note from Ash.

Put this on. I’ll pick you up at your place tonight.

I folded back the tissue paper and lifted out a long, sleek, satin, full-length, spaghetti-strap gown.

I took a shower and slithered into the dress in front of the mirror. Wherever he planned to take me must be really nice.

I selected my nicest pair of pumps and put on the same necklace I wore to the club the night I met him.

I was just putting the finishing touches on my makeup when he came to the door.

His eyes went hard when he checked me out down to my feet and back up to my bare arms and shoulders. “You look incredible,” he murmured.

I blushed and tried not to squirm in the dress. “Thank you for this.”

He inclined his head toward the street behind him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah!” I grabbed my clutch and he offered me his arm. “This is awfully official,” I remarked on our way down to his car.

“I thought it was time for us to do something a little different.” He opened the passenger seat for me to get in.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“First, we’re going out to dinner. Don’t worry. We won’t do anything inappropriate in public.”

He shut the door and I put on my seat belt while he walked around the car and got behind the wheel.

I waited for him to start the motor and drive off, but he turned to me instead and pulled the padded leather wrist cuffs out of his jacket pocket. “Hold out your hands.”

I stared at in him stunned disbelief while he unbuckled the cuffs and cinched them around my wrists. Was he really going to do this—in the car?

He kept shooting me hard looks while he buckled the straps extra tight—like I could actually get away from him while the car was moving.

He took the snaffle clip out of his pocket next. “Put your hands above your head.”

I raised my arms. This position left my body exposed. The dress made it ten times worse. It barely covered any of me.

That feeling of just a flimsy piece of satin separating me from him—it sent a thrill of erotic danger through my guts.

He clipped the snaffle to one of the cuffs, looped it over the safety grab handle above the passenger door, and clipped the other side of the snaffle to my other wrist.

He sat back in his seat and examined me. The clip held my wrists in the air. I couldn’t get away.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured. “That’s what I like to see. You’re completely helpless, aren’t you? Now I can do whatever I want with you.”

He ran his hand from my ribs down my hip to my thigh, but that was all.

The lustrous satin caressed me under his hand and instantly turned me on. That shimmering feeling rushed down my body and twined between my legs.

He could definitely do whatever he wanted with me, but he didn’t grope my body the way I thought he would.

He rummaged under his seat and took out a plain paper bag. I didn’t see what he needed that for until he bent over me a second time and pulled up my dress.

He scooted it all the way up to my hips. He gave me a look and I lifted my ass off the seat so he could hitch my dress all the way up to my panties.

He fiddled with something in the bag and then clipped something hard and cold to the inside of my panties. I didn’t see what it was.

He crumpled up the bag, stuffed it into his jacket pocket, turned the ignition, pulled out onto the road, and then pushed one of the control buttons on the steering wheel.

I didn’t notice anything unusual about these buttons before. Each one bore the stamp of the standard windows, defroster, and stereo volume control icons.

He pushed a button that didn’t have any icon on it—and whatever he clipped to my panties started to vibrate against my clitoris.

I moaned and writhed back on the seat, but the cuffs held me in place. I couldn’t go anywhere.

“Do you like that?” he asked. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

I whimpered in pathetic misery. “I need you….”

“You need me to do what?”

I gulped. Here we went again. So we were playing that game.

Was this what he meant when he said he was a sadist? He liked to torment me, bring me to the pitch of desperation, and listen to me beg him to finish me off.

The vibrations stayed low, rumbling, and never escalated. They spiraled me into a dizzy cloud of arousal, but they never built to a full climax.

“I need you to fuck me….” I moaned.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes!” I sobbed. “Please…..”

“I can’t do that while I’m driving.” God, he said it so matter-of-factly.

I tried to turn away from him, but every move made the dress slip and sparkle on my skin.

It turned me on almost as much as the vibrator. The dress didn’t have to touch my pussy or any other part of me. It encased me in this delicious feeling of succulent excitement just from sitting here on this seat.

“Do you want to cum for me?” he asked.

“Yes!” I choked. “Please….I need you so bad….”

“Do you feel me inside you right now? Do you feel me taking you and making you tremble for me?”

“Yes!” I burst out in agonized groans—and then he made it a thousand times harder when he pushed the button again.

The vibrator buzzed faster. I whined in desperation and squirmed my ass in circles on the seat.

I really needed something thick and hot inside me right now, but I couldn’t get it. I couldn’t even stick my own fingers inside me.

“You need it so bad, don’t you?” he demanded. “You need me to bend you over and smack your ass so hard while I fuck you. Don’t you? Beg me for it.”

“Yes!” I whimpered. “Please….I need you to spank me…..please take me….”

“What will you do for me if I spank you?”

“Anything!” I broke down in sobs trying in any possible way to get him to touch me. “I’ll do anything.”

“Will you kneel for me?”

“Yes!” I practically screamed. “I need you! I need to kneel for you!”

“Will you let me do whatever I want to your body?”

“Yes! You know I will!”

“Hmmm,” he murmured. “I don’t know…..”

I moaned again. My pussy ached so bad right now. He never took his eyes off the road even to look at me, much less touch me.

He pushed the button for the third time and I screamed. “Beg me to let you cum!” he ordered.

“Please!!” I screamed. “Please…..please let me cum……I need you so bad….I’ll do anything…..”

“Spread your legs wider.”

I spread my legs and gyrated on the seat, but that only made it worse. “Please….” I whimpered. “Please……”

He turned the steering wheel and pulled into a parking lot somewhere.

I broke down wailing in brutal desire when he turned in my direction, but he only switched off the vibrator and unclipped it from my panties.

“I will make you cum, but not now. Now pull yourself together so we can go inside.”

I buckled on the seat while he unclipped my wrists from the handle. Then I really did crumble moaning and convulsing while he pulled the cuffs loose and stashed them in the glove box.

He leaned all the way over and kissed me on the forehead. Man, that kiss hurt!

He got out, walked around the car, and opened the passenger door. I had to sit there writhing in agony until I collected myself enough to get out.

My dress fell down to my ankles. No one could tell from the outside that there was anything wrong with me, but I was going crazy on the inside.

He shut the passenger door behind me. I had to lean against the car to steady myself.

I would have lain my whole body against the cold steel to try to shock myself back to my senses, but that probably would only have excited me more.

I was still reeling and struggling to focus my vision when he took hold of my arm, turned me around to face him, and enveloped me in his arms.

I collapsed on his chest and put my arms around his chest. That one moment of contact grounded me enough so that, when he pulled away, I could take his hand and follow him into the restaurant.

End of Chapter 12.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 11

_________________

I got my usual stomach-load of butterflies when I climbed the stairs to Ash’s apartment. What did Graham tell him about our phone call? I was about to find out.

I pushed the door open—and stopped dead in my tracks. Ash wasn’t there.

The apartment sounded empty. No one was here.

A pink paper gift bag sat on the coffee table in front of my usual spot. A handwritten note on a full sheet of printer paper stuck out from under the bag.

Put these on, cuff yourself behind your back, blindfold yourself, and wait for me in your usual spot.

I frowned at the note, but I found out what he meant when I opened the bag.

I pulled out the padded blindfold he used on me last time, the black leather sheepskin cuffs with the snaffle clip holding them together, and a matching black bra, panties, garter belt, and stocking set.

The bag also contained a black leather harness. I had to turn it over and rotate it in different directions before I figured out how it was supposed to fit.

Two triangles in the front gave away that these were supposed to go around my breasts. The rest of it made more sense after that.

The neck strap went around my neck with two thicker horizontal straps, one around my ribs and the other around my hips.

The harness also had a strip that went between my legs. It snapped to the back hip section so I could put the harness on and take it off more easily.

I slipped out of my clothes and put on the lingerie first. Everything felt silky smooth, fit perfectly, and slithered over my most sensitive erogenous zones. The whole outfit left me exposed and covered just enough to be mind-blowingly arousing.

I buckled on the cuffs next and then put on the harness over everything else.

Snapping the lower strap into place turned out to be an exercise in self-restraint. The strap fit tightly against my panties all the way up the back between my ass cheeks.

I had to stretch to snap the strap back into place. It pinched, but it also turned me on. It applied constant pressure to my clitoris, vulva, and ass even when I stood perfectly still.

The blindfold and snaffle clip posed a challenge. The question was how to blindfold myself and cuff myself behind my back at the same time.

I clipped the snaffle to one of the cuffs, tied on the blindfold, and plunged myself into pitch darkness.

I clipped the other side of the snaffle by feel—and there I was, blindfolded and cuffed in the most revealing lingerie—all alone in Ash’s’ apartment.

The tension mounted the longer I stood there. Now what? How long should I wait before I assumed he wasn’t going to come? Did he forget about our meeting?

I could let myself out if I needed to. I touched the snaffle. I could find the clip and undo it whenever I wanted.

He wouldn’t forget something like this—not when he went to the time and effort to leave this outfit for me.

I jumped out of my skin when I heard the outer apartment door open. His feet knocked on the stairs getting closer by the second.

I trembled and fought for air until the moment when he opened the door and entered the apartment behind me.

I didn’t dare to turn around. Did I follow his instructions well enough?

He didn’t meet me here to tell me the rules for tonight’s session. I was hoping to ask him how I did during my phone call with Graham.

It didn’t look like I was going to get a chance to do that.

He shut the door behind him—and stayed back there. He didn’t move for a second.

When he did, he took a step toward me from behind. His presence made my knees tremble.

He eased around me and stopped in front of me. He didn’t say a word. Was he looking at me? He must be.

I turned my head from side to side trying to hear any clue about what he was doing or what he was about to do.

He stayed so still that I couldn’t hear anything, not even his breathing. Was he even there at all?

My mind started to play tricks on me—right up until the moment when he laid his hand on my shoulder.

I shivered at the intense, heightened sensation of his hand running down my arm. He stroked back up and passed his warm hand across my chest to my other arm.

He stroked up my other arm, squeezed one of my breasts in a hard, cruel grip, and then stroked down my stomach to my thighs.

He didn’t say a word before he slid up between my legs and squeezed my crotch though the leather strap. The extra pressure made me moan, but he pulled away immediately.

He walked the rest of the way behind me and squeezed me the same way between my ass cheeks.

He put enough pressure on the strap to make it dig into my pussy again. I squealed and then wavered as a surge of pleasure and arousal swept over me.

He stroked my sides, down to my hips, and then grabbed both my ass cheeks in his hands.

He leaned in close to my ear and whispered. “Are you hot right now?”

“Yes, Sir!” I panted.

“Do you want to give yourself to me right now?” he whispered. “Do you want me to take you right now and do whatever I want to you?”

“Yes!” I gasped. “Please….Sir…..”

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back against his hard package. He rocked against me, but he didn’t go any further than that.

All this teasing made me ache for him—and the strap between my legs didn’t help at all.

He stood back, unclipped the snaffle holding my wrists together, and reattached it with my wrists in front of me.

“Bend over and put your hands down flat on the table,” he murmured.

I bent over, but I couldn’t see how far away the table was. He kept his hands on me and guided me down.

My fingers grazed the cold marble. I flattened both my palms onto it.

His hands kept migrating all over me—up my spine to the back of my neck, down my sides to my hips, and around my ass cheeks.

He grabbed a fistful of one hip, gripped his fingers on the back of my neck, and pulled my ass back toward him, but he didn’t grind into me.

“Arch your back.” His voice got a little louder—a little colder. “Stick your ass out for me to see.”

I arched my back. His hand on my neck felt intoxicatingly hot. Was he actually going to take me like this? I really wished he would.

Being blindfolded released my inhibitions. I didn’t have to see him or myself. I let myself go in my own quickening desires.

I stuck my ass out and moaned when I spiraled my hips in the air. Did I look good enough for him to actually take me? What would lure him in?

He moved over next to me, but he didn’t let go of my neck. His hand steadied me. It felt masterful and controlling. Whatever happened to me here, it would be okay because he had me.

His other hand glided down my spine, rested once over my tailbone, and then stroked down my ass to my thighs.

“Such a beautiful ass,” he breathed. “So perfect and enticing…..”

He dragged his fingertips down the backs of my thighs, up through the middle between them, and barely grazed my panties—just enough to make me sob in ecstasy.

He grabbed another crushing squeeze of my ass cheeks before he rubbed them. Heat radiated from his hands into my skin.

That heat turned me on so much I could hardly stand it. I pushed my ass back into his hand and struggled to breathe. Should I beg him to fuck me? Was that what he was waiting for?

He unsnapped the strap from between my legs. A rush of warmth flooded my crotch when the pressure released. Removing it turned me on just as much as having it there.

He pulled the strap all the way down so it hung from the front of the harness. Then he went back to stroking my ass—up and down, to my thighs—and this time, he burrowed his fingers into my swollen tissues from behind.

He rubbed me in circles through my panties until I sobbed and whimpered for more, but he didn’t give me any more.

He kept alternating between stroking my ass cheeks, teasing the backs of my thighs, and rubbing my pussy a little more each time.

The next time, he slipped his hand inside my panties and squeezed, massaged, and gripped my bare ass, but he always stopped before he let it go any further.

He made the same circuit again until I writhed in wild desperation. He came back up to rubbing my pussy from behind and his fingers darted into me—just for a second.

I screamed out as that sudden spike of delicious sensation drove me insane, but he pulled away just as fast and smacked me across the ass.

The two sensations contrasted with each other enough to make me gasp out in surprise—and then the pure wicked thrill of what he was doing hit me full force. He was going to spank me.

Graham’s phone call planted the seed in my mind. I spent the last week masturbating every day and thinking about Ash doing all kinds of wicked, sadistic things to me—things I would probably never do.

Getting spanked was the least offensive example. Most of my fantasies turned into much more aggressive scenes, but I never really let myself believe they would happen.

He didn’t even spank me that hard. It was more of a swat—just enough to give me a taste of things to come.

He immediately went back to fingering me through my panties. The two floods of pleasure before and after surrounded that moment of sting. They masked it so it didn’t really bother me.

“You like that, don’t you?” he muttered under his breath. “You want me to spank your ass, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir!” I squealed. “Please!”

“What a wicked girl you are. I love how much you want this.”

He caressed my ass again, gave me another swat on my other ass cheek, and rubbed his warm palm into it to ease the pain.

It didn’t even really hurt. I would have expected a spanking to hurt more.

He spent far more time caressing the sensitive skin down the backs of my thighs and then fingering me. He spiraled me into a dizzy cloud of pleasure before he delivered the next smack.

He hit harder this time, rubbed out the pain, and then massaged and squeezed my inner thighs down to my knees.

I moaned and pushed my ass back into his hands. I really needed to cum, but I was enjoying this too much.

This moment fulfilled all the evil, twisted fantasies I had been indulging all week. I might never do any of them, but now I could say someone actually spanked me.

He escalated the pressure the next time he smacked both my ass cheeks. He actually made me yell out in pain, but he instantly soothed it by rubbing both handprints.

He left me whining and squirming in agony when he stepped away and moved behind me. He took hold of my panties and glided them down, down, down.

He slid them to my feet and held them open for me to step out of them. He didn’t tell me what to do. His movements gave me all the command I needed.

He came back to stroking my ass, and this time, he grabbed a fistful of the leather harness around my chest.

“I’m gonna spank you until you cum, baby,” he snarled. “You keep still and take it like a good girl. Understand?”

His harsh words cut to the quick and turned me on as never before. He actually sounded hard and cruel like Graham. Was Ash finally letting his inner beast out of its cage?

I barely made a sound when I croaked out, “Yes, Sir!”

He tightened his grip on the harness and pulled it back. The straps bit into my body on my shoulders, neck, chest, and hips. It actually felt like he was pulling me back into him while he fucked me.

He grabbed a big handful of my exposed pussy, rubbed me until my tissues swelled open for his fingers, and plunged inside.

I gasped and then screamed as he pumped them all the way in. He rotated his hand in a circular screwing motion, pulled out, and slapped me hard across the ass.

He hit lower this time—closer to my thighs. It hurt more, but the aching throb of his fingers blurred the pain. All these sensations fogged my mind.

He smacked both my ass cheeks back and forth one after another. The pain started to become unbearable, but before it went that far, he dropped down and drilled his fingers into me even deeper.

He pumped them in fast and hard. I screamed and leaned back, but I didn’t have to. He used the harness to pull me into his strokes.

He pulled out and smacked me extra hard across each ass cheek. He hit hard enough for it to really hurt this time. It hurt a lot more than I thought a spanking would hurt.

I screamed in pain this time, but all the fantasies I’d been having seemed to be coming true right now.

My scream sounded like I was having an orgasm. Screaming in pain actually felt like having an orgasm. My addled brain couldn’t tell the difference.

He pumped inside me again and again and I spiked out of control. The harness yanking me back into his thrusts overpowered my mind. I needed him to fuck me. His fingers were fucking me.

I spiraled into the stratosphere on the cusp of another brutal orgasm. My ass hurt, but that was nothing compared to what was to come.

At the moment when I got ready to beg him to let me cum, he withdrew his fingers and spanked me so much harder than I ever thought possible.

He delivered hard smacks all over my ass, down toward my thighs, and then spanked the backs of my thighs themselves.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he barked over my screams. “Do you want me to make you cum? Say you want to cum!”

“Please!” I shrieked. “Please let me cum! I need you so bad!”

He smacked my ass again—hard. “Is this what you want? Do you want me to spank your ass like this? Is this what you asked for?”

“YES!!” I screeched. “Yes, please! Please spank me! I need to cum so bad!”

“Say you’ll do anything I say.”

“YES!! I swear! Please….I’ll do anything….please…..just let me cum.”

He gave me another series of stinging smacks instead.

“Do you feel that?!” he yelled over my screams. “Do you feel how hard I’m gonna fuck you? Do you feel my hips smacking your ass as I drive into you?”

“YES!! Please!!”

He stopped smacking and rubbed his palm over my sore ass cheeks. He lowered his voice to a snarl through his teeth.

“That’s right,” he husked. “You’re gonna feel this every day this week. You’re gonna feel what a bad girl you are that you begged me to fuck you and spank you like a bad girl. You’re going to remember that you belong to me and do exactly what I say. Won’t you?”

“Yes!” I whimpered. “Please….please let me cum….”

“Hmm,” he muttered. “I might if you behave yourself.”

I sobbed in wretched agony. The blindfold amplified all my sensations—the good ones and the bad ones.

There were no bad ones. That was the truth. Even the pain in my ass turned me on. It reminded me of how much I wanted him—how much he was giving me exactly what I asked for.

He stepped behind me, took hold of my hip in one hand, and used the harness to pull me back into him.

This time, he dug his rock-hard bulge between my ass cheeks. “Just imagine how much your ass would hurt if I really did fuck you right now. Imagine how hot it would make you to know that I spanked you like that and turned you into a girl who begged for me to take you.”

I tried to back up to him. If only he would, but he stepped away immediately.

He rotated to my side, grabbed the harness in a death grip, and placed his hand on my raw, sore ass cheek.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured. “You beg so fucking good…..”

I would have begged all over again, but he drilled his fingers into me and made me scream instead.

He started slowly and worked up to full, deep, pumping thrusts. He held me steady by the harness while he wound me up to the same pitch of excitement.

“Cum for me!” he yelled over my screams. “Cum for me now.”

I shrieked out and then froze as the wave broke. I shuddered and quaked as deep, crushing pulsations spasmed my channel around his fingers.

He kept pounding into me with all his strength. My mind switched gears. His hips spanked against my ass. It hurt when I felt the handprints of his strikes on my skin.

That pain felt so wicked and forbidden. No one would ever find out I did this.

His fist on the harness made all the difference. It excited me almost as much as the spanking itself.

The feeling of him holding me steady and pulling me back into those thrusts—it intoxicated me. I could have gone so much further as long as he held me like that.

He slid his fingers out and left me shuddering. I struggled to stay upright once he released his hold on the harness.

I was still floating down out of the cosmos when he swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the couch. I still had the blindfold on, so I only felt him sit down and position me sideways on his lap.

He guided my head down on his shoulder and held me there until the last tremors subsided.

He petted my hair, and in the process, wound up pulling the blindfold off. I didn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t face reality after all that.

 My ass really hurt just from sitting on his lap. He was right. This was going to serve as a reminder for me all week.

I really must be a bad girl if I got off on this, but thinking that only turned me on even more. I could do the whole thing over again right now.

Then I would have multiple orgasms. Would he ever give me multiple orgasms again?

I couldn’t face making that or any other decision right now.

He stroked his hands up and down my outer thighs and up and down my arms. He kept running his fingers through my hair and kissing me on the forehead.

I thought I would fall asleep, but I didn’t. I went into a numb trance staring at the side of his neck.

So he spanked me. Did that make me a masochist—because I enjoyed it?

He waited a long time before he turned his head sideways. He couldn’t see me, so he rested his cheek against my hair. “So how did your phone call with Graham go?” he asked.

I stiffened. “Don’t you know? Didn’t he tell you?”

“He said you were very polite and respectful. He didn’t tell me anything else.”

I shut my eyes again. “I guess you could say it went well.”

“Do you think you got anything out of talking to someone else?”

I would have turned my face even farther away, but I lacked the energy even to do that.

I got something out of talking to someone else. I got a lot out of it.

I couldn’t explain that to Ash. I never would have let him spank me like this tonight if I hadn’t talked to Graham first. He opened that door. Now there was no going back.

End of Chapter 11.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 10

--------------------

I woke up the next morning, struggled out of my blankets to clear my head, and picked up my phone from the bedside table to turn off my alarm.

The very first notification on the home screen was from Ash.

Good morning, sweetheart. Today you’re going to get a phone call from another dominant. I want you to talk to someone other than me about what is going on between us.

I frowned at the screen trying to figure this out. I didn’t know any other dominants.

I really didn’t want to talk to a total stranger about what was going on between me and Ash, but if he thought it was important, it must be.

So I just texted back, Yes, Sir.

I got up and started my morning routine to get ready for work. I took a shower, got dressed, did my hair and makeup, and checked my sidearm before I drove into town to meet up with Riley.

I kept glancing at my phone every few minutes to see if I missed a call from the mystery dominant. Who was he? What would he be like?

He probably wanted to interrogate me about my experience in the BDSM world and maybe question my motives for getting involved with Ash.

Maybe this mystery dominant was some kind of mentor or big brother figure to Ash or maybe Ash had to answer to someone else.

I fought the urge to text Ash and ask a billion questions about who the guy was, why Ash wanted me to talk to some stranger about our relationship, and what I should expect from the phone call.

I did manage to control myself well enough not to ask. I was supposed to be under Ash’s orders even when we weren’t together.

What could go wrong from a simple phone call? It wasn’t like this guy could actually hurt me or anything.

He wasn’t my dominant, anyway. I kept up my reading and research after Ash accepted me as his submissive.

I knew by now that I didn’t have to submit to any other man or even any other dominant. If this guy had any qualifications as a dominant at all, he should know this as well as I did.

I couldn’t help but burn up with curiosity about who he was and what he wanted to talk to me about. I didn’t even know if he wanted to talk to me. Maybe this was all Ash’s idea.

He did say once that I should talk to someone other than him about my journey. Maybe this had something to do with that.

I really wanted to ask what Ash told this guy about me. Did the guy know I was a newbie straight off the rack and that I never submitted to anyone before Ash?

Did Ash describe in lurid detail all the things we did during our sessions together? This guy might know as much about my relationship with Ash as Ash himself.

That idea didn’t bother me as much as it should have. If this guy was some kind of mentor or supervisor to Ash, then the guy would need to know all of that.

It actually made me feel better that Ash and I weren’t operating in a vacuum. I wouldn’t know without coming straight out and asking if Ash actually answered to this guy.

It did seem like a good thing, though, if that was what was happening. At least one other person knew what was going on between us.

The guy didn’t call. I must have checked my phone a thousand times in one day. I didn’t miss his call. He didn’t call at all.

I finally left work and went home. How long should I wait?

I would normally relax on the couch, watch some TV, read a book, surf the internet, or review my case files during my off-hours.

I couldn’t concentrate well enough to do any of that. I didn’t want to get caught off guard when this phone call actually happened.

I paced around the living room counting down the seconds until the guy called, but he still didn’t call.

I finally gave up and went to bed. Some of us had to get up for work tomorrow morning. I couldn’t wait around anymore.

I went into my room, changed into my pajamas, checked my phone one more time just to make sure my alarm was set to go off at the right time, and crawled under the covers.

I was just getting cozy when the phone rang. I jumped out of my skin and then scrambled to pick up my phone.

My stomach flipped when I read the screen. Unknown number.

I answered it and held the phone to my ear with trembling hands. “Hello?”

A deep, rumbling voice answered from the other end. The guy had a strange accent. “Am I speaking with Lucy?”

“Um…..” I stammered. “Yes, Sir.”

He laughed. “You don’t have to call me that, my dear. My name is Graham. You can call me by my name.”

My brain took a second to switch gears so I could identify his accent. He was Irish. That explained the name.

I fumbled for the right thing to say to him, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, “Um…..yes, Sir.”

“Never mind. I understand Ash Keiff has accepted you as his submissive. He has asked me to ring you and speak to you about your dynamic.”

“Um…..yes, Sir.” God, I sounded like an idiot.

Something about the guy’s voice had an even more hypnotic effect on me than Ash’s voice usually did.

Graham’s voice was lower than Ash’s and more resonant. Did all these guys go through some kind of dominant vocal training to make their voices as intimidating and suggestive as possible?

Graham’s voice had a way of numbing my mind just as Ash’s did, but Graham’s cut with a harsher edge. I could definitely picture this guy being a serious sadist when he wanted to be one.

For some reason, the harsh quality of his deep voice was the one thing that made it so seductive. Whatever harsh, sadistic things he did to his submissives must have been unbelievably erotic.

For the first time, just from hearing this guy’s voice, the idea of someone doing something harsh, sadistic, and brutal to me actually started to turn me on.

Ash never talked to me like this. He kept his sadistic side completely hidden from me.

This man on the other end of this phone—he never did or said anything sadistic to me, either.

He acted perfectly cordial and polite—and yet his voice suggested so many wicked, dark, forbidden things—things I would have run from just a few weeks ago.

“So what is it you’re hoping to find and learn by being in a dynamic with Ash?” he asked.

“Um….you know….just….Sir…..I guess I need to explore my masochistic side or…..you know….maybe find out if I even have any masochistic side…..Ash is my first dominant….so I’m just learning…..”

I broke off before I made an even bigger fool of myself than I already was.

“Does the idea of Ash restraining you and using your body arouse you?” he asked.

I felt his voice having the same intoxicating effect on me. His voice put me into another state—a state of suggestibility where every word acted on my mind.

“Yes, Sir!” I squeaked.

“Do you get aroused by the idea of him doing whatever he wants to you, even if he does something you’ve never tried before?”

My pulse quickened. Was he doing this on purpose? I had to gasp for breath just to rasp out, “Yes, Sir!”

“Do you get aroused thinking about him laying his hands on you….or using implements on you……and imprinting his dominance into you where you can feel it branded into your flesh?”

“Yes, Sir!” Did I say those words out loud or was I panting too hard?

“You feel that, don’t you?” His voice deepened. He dragged out every word in a low, sultry, rumbling vibration. “You feel his hands getting heavier…..striking harder……the warmth of his touch turns to thuds and then to stings……You scream from the intensity of that sensation……and the pain turns to pleasure…..Everything he does to you makes you want to orgasm…..doesn’t it?”

I moaned instead of answering.

“Do you feel him striking you with any tool he wishes?”

“Yes!” I practically screamed.

His voice transported me back to Ash’s apartment. I really felt him striking me with his flogger, but this time, he hit much harder.

The strikes hurt—but the intensity of that pain turned me on beyond anything I could have imagined—because Ash was the one who did it.

That was the moment when I realized. I really didn’t care if he did something to hurt me. Anything he did would turn me on.

The simple fact that he gave me his attention enough to strike me—it would turn me on. Screaming because he hurt me felt like screaming from having an orgasm.

Graham’s voice did something else to me, too. It actually made me want Ash to do something as harsh as that.

Ash always conducted himself as the perfect gentleman—with me, at least. What would it take to get him to release that part of himself? That would be something to see.

I wanted him to. I wanted him to stamp his presence into my body—the harder the better.

I became distantly aware of the silence on the other end of the phone. I got so absorbed in thinking about the picture in my mind that I didn’t realize until too late that Graham wasn’t talking to me anymore.

I swallowed hard and took a few more shuddering breaths. I had to pull my head out of the clouds to get through the rest of this conversation.

“Tell me,” he went on after a minute. “Tell me what you feel when you kneel at his feet and you feel him standing over you.”

I clamped my eyes shut holding back a tide of emotion and arousal. He couldn’t have come up with another subject better designed to make me crumble into a puddle of desire.

“I feel….” I faltered again.

“Take your time, my dear,” he murmured. “There is no right or wrong answer.”

“I feel……Sir……um……”

What did I feel when I knelt at Ash’s feet? It took me a long time even to decide what to say.

“I feel…small…..and weak…..and vulnerable…..and scared…..”

“And yet you kneel,” he pointed out. “You kneel willingly.”

“Yes!” My voice cracked. I wanted to cry.

That feeling of being small and weak and scared in front of Ash—there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be.

“Do you feel safe when you kneel before him?”

Tears sprang to my eyes and my throat seized up. “Yes! I feel safe.”

“That is all I really need to know, my dear Lucy. Thank you for a delightful conversation. I’m sure you’ll make an excellent submissive for Ash—which I’m sure is the reason he took you on. I hope you have a pleasant evening. Sleep well. Good night.”

He hung up without waiting for me to say anything else.

I curled over in a ball under the covers and buried my face in the pillow. I choked back a wave of anguish thinking about kneeling at Ash’s feet.

Kneeling like that made me tremble in fear of what he would do to me, but that was nothing compared to the fear of losing him—or displeasing him.

All mixed up in that fear was the rock-solid certainty that he would never hurt me. He might make me feel pain, but he would never genuinely hurt me—not really.

I would never find anyone better to explore this world with. My instincts were right about him. I made the right choice by submitting to him instead of someone else.

All these feelings wouldn’t subside, so I pushed myself up on my elbow, opened the drawer of my bedside table, and took out my vibrator.

I crawled back under the covers, shut my eyes in the dark, and let the vibrations spread through me as my arousal built to an explosive climax.

I was back there…..back in the office leaning against the window with my arms above my head and my eyes closed……

This time, he walked around and around my naked body whipping me with something much harder and much more painful than his black flogger.

That pain spiraled into mind-blowing pleasure until I orgasmed thinking about him marking my body as his own. He drove his presence into my flesh where it would never, ever go away.

End of Chapter 10.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 9

___________________

I looked down at my phone and grinned when I saw a text from Ash. Are you in bed yet, baby?

My heart skipped a beat when I texted back. Yes, Sir.

Calling him that excited me so much. I couldn’t explain why except that now we were heading out into the final frontier of uncharted territory.

I didn’t know where this journey would end, but I sure wanted to find out.

The road stretched out in front of me full of endless possibilities. The old limits no longer existed.

Get comfortable in bed. I’m going to call you on the phone.

I snuggled deeper under the covers. I was as comfortable as I could be in my pajamas. I could only get more comfortable if I didn’t have to hold onto my phone.

I’m ready, I told him.

First tell me what you usually do when you masturbate. Do you use your fingers or toys?

I blinked at the phone. He seriously wanted to know what I did when I masturbated?

He said he would get all up in my business and find out everything about my life. I just never thought it would go as far as this.

My excitement turned to nerves. I use a vibrator.

Do you use it by itself?

Yes, Sir.

What kind of vibrator is it?

Wow, he was really giving me the third degree here.

I just hoped he wouldn’t start asking me what I thought about when I masturbated. I wouldn’t want him to know how much I thought about him.

Um…..it’s just a normal vibrator. I’m not sure how to describe it.

What shape is it? What size?

It’s cylindrical. It’s about four inches long, I guess.

Do you insert it or do you use it on your clitoris?

I cringed. Damn, he was getting really clinical about this. Just on my clitoris.

Do you use your fingers inside at the same time or the vibrator by itself?

By itself. Then I remembered to add, Sir.

Get out your vibrator and put in your earbuds so I can call you.

I had to get out of bed and walk across the house to get my earbuds out of my purse. I crawled back into bed, put in my earbuds, and burrowed under the covers clutching my vibrator in one hand and my phone in the other.

I’m ready, I told him.

My phone started ringing. It was him.

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. I can hear you. Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” he told me. “Are you comfortable in bed?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Put your phone down, lie down flat on your bed, and start using your vibrator.”

I put my phone down, pulled the covers all the way up to my chin, and turned on my vibrator.

I slipped my hand down my pajama pants and touched the vibrator to my clitoris.

The constant tapping and stimulation of Ash’s flogger yesterday left me extra sensitive.

I escalated much faster than I usually did. Heat spread through me and outward to the rest of my body.

Ash’s voice rumbled in my ear, but it sounded like it was coming from the very center of my head.

“Listen to my voice very carefully, baby. I want you to close your eyes and imagine that first night when we were in the club.”

His voice spiraled around me. It vibrated into my bones and got all mixed up with the warm, pleasurable vibrations spreading through my pussy right now.

His voice slithered between my legs, around my stomach and breasts, up my neck, over my lips, and into my mouth.

His voice stimulated every nerve ending, caressed me as if he was here in this bed with me, and even licked me between my legs to turn me on.

“You’re standing at the window with your hands above your head,” he growled. “You have your eyes closed…..your lips fall open…..your body softens……You feel me behind you…..”

My breath quickened. That moment at the window cast me under his spell. I never got out of it.

His voice transported me back there instantaneously. He stood right behind me breathing in my ear.

His presence turned me on beyond anything I ever felt before.

“You feel my arms slide around you…..” he murmured. “You feel my hands grab your breasts through your dress…….Do you feel that?”

“Yes!” I whimpered. “Yes, Sir.”

His voice dropped in tone. It cut with a harder edge and he started talking faster. “You feel me hard against your ass…..I grab your hips and pull you against me…..”

I couldn’t stop panting. I felt everything he said as if he was doing it to me right this minute.

“My hands slide up your thighs under your dress……you feel your thighs part for me……the heat between your legs turns into an ache…..You’re getting so wet you can’t stand it……You moan for me to touch you and bend you over and take you right here….”

I moaned and my voice spiked into a high-pitched whine. How did he always know exactly what I needed?

“You feel my hands slide around your thighs. I lift you back into me and grind into your ass while my fingers rub you through your soaking-wet panties…..”

I couldn’t stop moaning. My other hand flew to my breast and down my side under the covers, but I couldn’t even stand to touch myself.

Touching myself felt like such a let-down. I wanted him. I needed him. Anything else just made me more desperate.

“You can’t stop rubbing your ass against my cock. You feel how hard I am and you need me so bad. You feel my mouth on your ear and my teeth biting into your neck from behind…..”

I yelped as a spike of passion blasted me out of my mind. My pathetic moans rose to cries. I needed to cum right now, but I needed him more.

His fingers and toys didn’t satisfy me. I needed him to take me so hard.

“I pull your panties down and bend you forward. You keep your hands on the window frame above your head. You arch your back so your breasts stick out and your ass presents for me……..”

I spread my legs a little wider under the covers and writhed in ragged ecstasy. I felt him doing everything to me—everything I wanted him to do.

“You feel my cock slide into you…..You’re so wet and your muscles clamp around me while I drill into your ass…..you can’t stop screaming as I drive you up against the window….taking you……making you cum……”

“Please….Sir…..” I whimpered. “Please….make me cum…..”

“Do you feel that?” he demanded. “Do you feel me behind you….owning you….invading you……taking you and making you mine…..?”

“Yes!” I shrieked. “Yes, Sir! Please….please……”

“You feel so fucking good, baby…..your ass smacks my hips every time I bump into you…..I shove you against the window and press your bare breasts against the glass while I fuck you deep and hard.”

I couldn’t beg anymore. His voice held me on a tightrope. I needed to completely fall apart in a mind-blowing orgasm, but I also needed to do what he said.

The agreement we made acted on my mind—or maybe it just meant so much to me that I couldn’t bring myself to break it.

“Is this what you wanted that night at the club, baby?” he murmured. “Is this what you thought about me doing to you—fucking you like this?”

“YES!!” I shrieked and broke down moaning again in desperate sobs.

“Did you want me even then?” he rasped. “Did you feel me taking control of you and giving you everything you need?”

“YES!!” My voice cracked with all the emotion breaking out of me right now.

“Turn off your vibrator, baby.”

“No! Please, no!” I scrambled to turn under the covers trying to find some way out of this. “Please don’t do this to me…..”

He changed his tone to cold steel again. “Obey me, Lucy. Turn off your vibrator.”

I whimpered and sobbed, but I did what he said and turned it off. Then I collapsed moaning in my bed and seething with all this pent-up frustration.

“Lie still, baby,” he commanded. “Lie flat on your bed and listen to me. Be quite and listen to my voice.”

I tried to keep quiet, but I couldn’t stop squirming and twisting all over the place. This feeling threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

“Keep your eyes closed and concentrate on my voice,” he told me. “Feel my voice.”

Oh, I felt it all right. Feeling it wasn’t the problem—or it would have been more accurate to say that his voice was the problem.

“I want you to concentrate really hard and feel me between your legs…..feeling me licking you…….feel me thrusting into you from behind……feel my fingers rubbing you while I fuck you….you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter. You’re about to cum……”

I whined again and that whine turned into a cry that rose to a scream.

His voice cast another spell over me. I really did feel his tongue, his fingers, and his cock moving into me.

“You’re still standing in the window with your arms raised and your eyes closed. I’m doing everything you want me to, everything you imagined I would do that night. Can you feel that?”

“Yes!” I screeched. “Yes, please…..please, Sir…..please let me cum…..”

“I hear you screaming as I pound into you. I press my mouth against your ear and whisper…… ‘Cum for me, baby’…….’Cum for me now’……”

I screamed again….and again as I climaxed out of control. The pressure building between my legs skyrocketed and then cascaded all over my body in a torrent.

“Yeah!” he snarled from the other end of the phone. “Yeah! Come on! You feel so damn good when you cum for me like that.”

I convulsed on the bed thrashing in all directions. I’d never experienced anything like this.

This orgasm left me so emotionally fragile and needing him more than before it happened. I wilted on the bed and turned my face into the pillow moaning in so much heartbroken anguish.

Where were his arms when I really needed him? I would have given anything just to sit at his feet and hold onto his legs just for a few minutes.

“That was so beautiful, baby,” he murmured in my ear. “I knew you could do it. I’m proud of you.”

I couldn’t answer. I curled into a ball on my side, but I couldn’t stop stroking my hands all over my body and touching myself through my pajamas. Anything would be better than being alone right now.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I need you…!” I choked. “I need you, Ash!”

“You have me, baby,” he murmured. “I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”

I whimpered and tried to look away, but there was nothing to look away from. He wasn’t here.

“You said you wanted to do this for me, baby,” he went on in the same undertone. “I need to know that I control when you cum and when you don’t—and how you cum and how you don’t. Your orgasms are for me to give you. I know you need me and you have me. You have me exactly the way you asked. Now you’re getting what you asked for.”

“I know!” I moaned. “I don’t want to change it. I just…..”

I broke off in another wretched moan. I couldn’t exactly complain when he really did give me an orgasm, but damn! Who knew an orgasm could make me even more ravenously sexual than when I started?

“Talk to me,” he told me. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

“I’m just….lonely for you. I want you and you aren’t here. I was doing okay before….and now I’m really sad that you aren’t here.”

“We’re just as together now as we were ten minutes ago. Do you remember what you felt like when you sat at my feet and fell asleep with your head on my lap?”

I almost started crying. “I just want to be there! I need to feel you next to me!”

“Close your eyes, baby. You are there. You’re there right now. Put your arms around my legs and feel me petting your hair. You’re starting to drift off. You feel that I’m proud of you and I want you here with me. You’re warm and comfortable next to me. Do you feel that?”

His voice started to mesmerize me again—or maybe I was just really tired.

I wrapped my arms around my pillow….and my fatigue turned it into his legs.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he breathed. “I could just imagine you trembling under my hand…..the way you look up at me with your big eyes…..the way you beg…..Fuck, I love to hear you beg for it.”

His voice trailed off….and I started to drift. The intoxication of my orgasm transported me into the world of his voice. I felt myself looking into his eyes begging him to let me cum….and at the same time sitting at his feet with his fingers in my hair…..

The peace and security of that moment blurred with all the desire I still felt for him. That desire became simply the desire to be near him—to feel his presence flooding me with the feeling of him being near me……because he was near me.

I floated—and the next thing I knew, I was waking up to my alarm the next morning.

End of Chapter 9.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 8

----------------

I stood on the outskirts of town, stared across open grasslands, and let the wind blew through my hair.

In a few minutes, I would drive to Ash’s apartment for what might be our final meeting, but I was ready.

I just needed to take a few minutes to collect myself.

This calm stayed with me all week, even when Ash texted to check in with me. I never dropped, as he called it. I stayed rock solid. I just had to tell him where I stood and let the chips fall where they may.

This last week was an eye-opener for me. I spent more time studying BDSM this week than in the last six months combined.

I was as prepared as I could possibly be to meet Ash. I was far better prepared to meet him tonight than I was at the club.

A vibrating alarm went off on my watch. I turned it off and walked back to my car. There was no reason to put off the inevitable any longer.

I drove to his apartment, walked in, and stopped in my usual spot. He sat on the couch with his ankle on his knee and his arm over the cushion.

We both stood there staring at each other for what seemed like a long time.

“Was there something you wanted to say to me after our meeting last week?” he asked.

I studied him for a second and then tossed my handbag onto the chair next to me.

I kept my eyes down while I unbuttoned my shirt, took off all my clothes, and tossed them over the chair. My heart started pounding when I sank onto my knees on the floor.

I didn’t dare to look up. This might not work, but I had to try it.

I had been starting to get the picture about what was missing between me and Ash—why he kept insisting that I couldn’t be his submissive—what I was missing.

I stared at a spot on the floor and waited for the axe to fall. This moment would make or break us—if there even was an us to break.

I didn’t know what to expect, but when it happened, it was the last thing in the world I could have predicted.

He stood up, walked around the coffee table, and stopped in front of me.

He lowered his voice to a murmur. He didn’t snap or give commands. “What is it you want to say to me?”

I took a deep breath, but it didn’t do any good to steady my nerves. I had rehearsed exactly what I wanted to say to him.

Kneeling in front of him made it a thousand times harder to get the words out. I could only look up as far as his knees.

“You’re right that I don’t know what it means to be a masochist,” I choked. “But I want to be that for you. I want to be what you want. I know you can show me what it means….and I want that. I want to be the one who gives you that. If that’s what it takes to be your submissive, then that’s what I want to do. I want your heart….”

“You have my heart, Lucy,” he murmured. “Don’t you know that by now?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed hard. He made it even worse when he raised his hand and started stroking my hair.

“You said it was my responsibility to tell you what I want and then you would provide it to me. This is what I want—to have something real with you—even if it means becoming a masochist. I don’t know what it would take, but I want to try to at least find out if I can. I want to be that for you—to make you feel….whatever it is you feel when you do that. This….whatever it is that we’ve been doing—these half-measures—I can’t do this. I won’t do it. If I can’t at least try to have something real with you, then I don’t want to do this anymore.” I shut my eyes tight. “I….I feel too much for you. I don’t want to think about you if I can’t have you—for real. I can’t do this if I can’t at least give you what you’re giving me. I don’t want that. I don’t want this to be some kind of business transaction.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. I flatly refused to look up to see his reaction.

He didn’t stop stroking my hair, so I guess it wasn’t a complete disaster that I said all that.

“So you want to have something real with me,” he finally murmured.

“Yes,” I croaked.

“And you want to be my submissive and learn to be a masochist so you can give me what I want—so I’ll want to have something real with you. Am I understanding this right?”

I could barely speak above a whisper when I said, “Yes.”

“If you do this, you would be submissive to me all the time—not just when you’re in this apartment. You would be submissive to me even when you aren’t here. I would find out everything about you. I would involve myself in every aspect of your life. I would stick my nose into all your business and demand answers about everything to do with you. Are you prepared for that?”

I had to gulp again. “Yes.”

He waited a long time before he answered. “All right. I’ll take you as my submissive.”

I couldn’t breathe. This was what I wanted. I just still didn’t know what that meant.

“From now on, you’ll refer to me as Sir and answer me by saying, ‘Yes, Sir,’ and ‘No, Sir’. Is that clear?”

I nodded and then remembered to say, “Yes, Sir.”

Kneeling in front of him like this threw me back into the state of emotional fragility I felt when he made me beg him to give me an orgasm.

Now I was here essentially begging him to give me something so much bigger and so much more important.

Would I be good enough for him? What if I couldn’t hack it?

He was a sadist—but apparently I didn’t understand what that meant, either.

He didn’t act the way I thought a sadist would act. He wasn’t a brutal, vicious, axe-murdering psychopath.

I couldn’t fathom him ever hurting me—ever. He was too controlled—and it really, honestly never crossed my mind that he didn’t care about me.

“Now listen to me very carefully, Lucy,” he went on. “It’s important that you understand this. How much pain you receive is my decision. If you want something, you ask for it and it will be my decision whether to do it. That includes if you want to touch me. If you want to do something to me or for me, you ask and it will be for me to say yes or no. Is that understood?”

I nodded again and said, “Yes, Sir.”

He took a deep breath. Was he shaking as badly as I was?

“I am very proud to take you as a submissive, Lucy.” His voice really was shaking. “I’m extremely pleased and humbled seeing you kneeling before me like this. I hope I can be a good dominant for you—and I swear to you that I will never hurt you in any way that you don’t want me to. I will always take every possible step to protect you and make sure that you enjoy everything I do. I hope you can believe that.”

“I do…..Sir.”

He bent over and kissed me on the head before he walked away. He left me kneeling there while he banged around somewhere else in the apartment.

He stayed over there for so long that I almost looked up to see what he was doing.

I froze in horror when I saw him coming toward me. He carried a black flogger in one hand.

Finely plaited leather strips crisscrossed the handle and twisted around each other to form dozens of long falls all lying against each other.

I stole a glance at it and immediately looked away. Adrenaline burned my insides. I couldn’t let him hit me with that. No way.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked in a dangerous undertone.

“Yes,” I squeaked.

“Yes, Sir,” he corrected.

“Yes, Sir,” I whimpered.

Was he going to punish me for making that mistake?

“Lean forward, put your hands down flat on the floor, and rest your weight on your hands.”

I leaned forward. Kneeling like this made my knees ache. I wasn’t used to it. Leaning forward took the pressure off my knees.

He started pacing around me in a circle the way he did before, but this was a completely different experience.

I felt myself shrinking in front of him—and really, really hoping I was doing this right so I would be what he wanted me to be.

“Spread your knees,” he told me. “Put your head down and shut your eyes. I want you to feel everything I’m about to do to you.”

I lowered my head and shut my eyes. I couldn’t help but brace myself for the first brutal cut.

He stopped behind me….and then something touched my back.

I wasn’t exactly sure what it was because at first it felt soft and gentle. It took me a minute to figure out that he was dragging the leather falls over my skin.

He passed it back and forth a few times and then swept it higher each time. It landed on my skin just a fraction of an inch harder, but it still felt soft and gentle.

He kept increasing the height a tiny smidge each time until it actually did land with a very slight thud.

The leather strips fell together in one clump. They didn’t sting or cut. They barely tapped.

The increasing pressure felt like getting a massage. It actually relaxed me.

He worked across my shoulders and down my spine. That feeling of deep relaxation spread over me. This didn’t hurt at all. It actually felt amazingly good.

He worked back up my spine, back and forth across my shoulders, and even around my shoulders toward my arms.

He stopped long before I got tired of it. I could have gone on much longer.

He walked around in front of me. “Stand up in front of me and put your hands behind your head.”

I stood up. I didn’t realize my knees were this crimped until I tried to straighten my legs.

I had to take longer to straighten them, but Ash didn’t seem to mind. He stood there waiting.

I put my hands behind my head and laced my fingers together. I didn’t remember until I got into that position that I was naked.

I didn’t plan to look at him, but standing in that position put me in the most strategic place and my eyes automatically wound up locking on him.

He held that gaze without looking away—and raised the flogger again.

Having him flog my back prepared me for what he was about to do.

He dragged the soft leather over my nipples and down my stomach and thighs. I had to shut my eyes and gulp as the sensation sent ripples of sparks all over my skin.

He picked up speed and barely bumped the falls against my breasts, down my stomach, down my thighs, and eventually between my legs.

He still didn’t increase the pressure. That gentle bumping sensation excited me out of my mind, but he moved off immediately and worked his way back up to my breasts.

He built up power to the same deep massaging sensation he used on my back. The warmth spread through my breasts and into my chest. It felt incredible—and so unbelievably hot.

My excitement escalated when he worked down my stomach and then up my thighs to my pussy.

He beat the falls at the same steady rhythm and the same pressure against my clitoris.

I clamped my eyes shut whining in aching need as the waves of ecstasy spread outward through me. I needed to cum.

He read my mind. “Look at me,” he murmured.

My eyes snapped open—and I knew. I had to ask for it. I wouldn’t be able to if I didn’t ask.

“Please…..” I choked.

“Please what?” he snapped.

“Please…..Sir……please……” I gulped. The emotion of looking in his eyes almost made me start crying again, but this time, I had an outlet. The last barrier no longer separated me from what I really needed.

“Please…..let me cum…..” I choked and then screamed as another blast of electric power shot straight up my channel into my being.

“Cum for me, baby,” he murmured. “Cum for me right now. Let me see how much you want me to take you.”

I couldn’t stop screaming. The wave crested before he said that, but it took his word to make it happen.

He kept bumping the flogger against my clit at the same insistent rhythm while I spasmed and shrieked in agony. My knees almost buckled. I barely managed to stay upright.

He changed the angle of strikes. He didn’t land exactly on my clitoris anymore. I wouldn’t have been able to cope with that.

He struck a little deeper between my legs so the falls landed across my entire vulva. Those strikes made another warm, soothing, outward-spreading flush of heat that helped me calm down.

I was still trembling from the intensity of the sensation when he stopped. “Kneel, baby,” he murmured.

I almost collapsed onto the floor. I couldn’t sit up straight. My shoulders slumped and I buckled there gasping, moaning, and struggling to cope with all of this.

He took a step closer and started stroking my hair again. That touch actually hurt more than anything else that happened this evening.

This feeling of being totally crushed by my feelings for him—it felt like the worst agony of my life—and yet it somehow fulfilled something I never knew I needed.

I knew I needed something more from him, but I didn’t know what it was until right this minute.

This was it—this feeling of aching for him—for his approval and presence.

He didn’t tell me I could, but I scooted across the floor, put my arms around his knees, and held on.

I didn’t ask for permission and he didn’t tell me I could, but I needed this. I needed to anchor myself to him so much more than I ever did before.

He didn’t stop me. He let me hold onto him while he trailed his fingers through my hair.

He let me stay there, bowed and crushed, until I stopped shaking and finally inhaled a long, shuddering sigh.

He waited until I let go of him on my own. I couldn’t think clearly enough to decide what to do next.

He cupped my chin and made me look up at him. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Do you understand now?”

I had to gulp again to get my parched throat working. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’m very, very pleased with you, baby. I’m very happy to have you as my submissive. I’m proud of everything you did here tonight. You exceeded my wildest expectations. I didn’t think you would be able to do it, but you did it beautifully. I am very lucky to have you as a submissive.”

My throat contracted from emotion—and then he kissed me—only once.

He turned away. “Come over here and sit next to me.”

He returned to his usual place on the couch, put his foot against the coffee table, and pushed it a few feet away from him to make more space in front of him.

I got to my feet and hobbled over there.

He took my hand and guided me down to sit on the floor next to his legs.

He picked up a blanket that hung over the back of the couch, draped it around my shoulders, and wrapped me up in it.

Then he laid his hand on my head and steered me to lie down with my cheek against his thigh.

My eyes shut in the closeness of just being near him.

I must have drifted off because I woke up still sitting on the floor next to his leg. He wasn’t stroking my hair anymore. That would have woken me up.

I sat up and looked around in a daze. I was still half asleep.

I looked over and found him studying me with his head on the side. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Sleepy,” I croaked. “I mean….Sir.”

He raised his hand and stroked it down my cheek this time. “Do you feel like going home?”

I nodded at nothing. My brain wouldn’t switch back on.

“Do you think you’ll be all right to drive?”

I glanced around. “Would you mind….if I have a drink of water….Sir?”

“Of course.”

He stood up, went to the kitchen, ran a glass under the water filter installed in the front of the refrigerator, and brought it back to me.

I took a big gulp. It made me feel better and soothed my dry throat.

“Do you feel like you need to eat something?”

“No, I’ll be okay…..Sir.”

He burst into a huge grin. “Don’t worry if it takes you a while to get used to it.”

I found myself smiling back at him. “I like it. I just need to…well, you just said it, didn’t you?”

He smiled again and his cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” he exclaimed.

My head shot up. “What for?”

“For asking to be my submissive. I’m excited and nervous all that the same time. This is going to be great.”

I blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry if I didn’t do it right.”

“You were perfect. You did everything right.”

His attention was making me uncomfortable. “I should probably get out of here.”

“Okay.” He put his hand down. “Take your time.”

I didn’t need to take my time. I stood up, folded the blanket, and draped it over the back of the couch.

I became aware that I was standing right in front of him stark naked. We seemed to have traveled so far past all that now. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know what I looked like.

He watched in silence as I put my clothes back on. I couldn’t look at him until I got fully dressed and stood in the same place facing him.

“Thank you for everything you did and said tonight,” he repeated. “I very pleased with you and very, very proud of you.”

I blushed again. “Thanks…for everything….Sir.”

He grinned. “Have a good week. I’ll text you later….and I will continue to text you during the week. This won’t just be about aftercare anymore. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Excellent. Go home, then. I’ll talk to you later.”

End of Chapter 8

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 8

____________________

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to Ash’s apartment. I had to take a few deep breaths to steady my nerves before I went up there. What would I find there?

Our last meeting threw all the rules under the bus. I had no idea what to expect.

I had to find out, though, even if it meant he didn’t want to see me again.

I climbed up the stairs and stopped again at the top door. It was closed.

Actually, our last meeting didn’t change anything. It didn’t throw any of the rules under the bus.

I knew that at the time. I was still submissive to him even when I touched him and sucked him and did it with him. Doing it with him didn’t change any of that.

It didn’t change the basic protocols and procedures we had already set up, either—or that he set up.

As soon as I opened this door and walked into the apartment, I would become his submissive again.

I had to brace myself before I did it. Being submissive to him turned out to be something completely different from what I expected.

I pushed the door open. I couldn’t even be surprised when I saw him sitting on the couch in his old place.

He rested his ankle on his knee and laid his arm over the back of the couch. Of course. Where else would he be—lying naked in bed? Not likely.

I shut the door behind me, stopped in my usual place, and put my handbag on the chair nearest me before I faced him.

He leveled me with his usual penetrating stare. Why did I even entertain the possibility that he would become less dominant after last time? That was never going to happen no matter what happened between us.

He dipped his chin once like he needed to answer a question I asked him.

“So….same rules as last time,” he began. “Touching and penetration, but only with fingers and objects—no body contact. Go upstairs, take off all your clothes, fold them on the chair, and lie down on the bed where you were last time.”

I stared back at him for a minute taking all of that in. Was he really going to act like last week never happened?

He inclined his head to one side. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” I murmured. “No problem.”

“Then go do it. Go upstairs.”

I turned away and went upstairs on autopilot. I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this—and I wasn’t. I didn’t really think anything would change—except that it changed for me.

I folded my clothes on the chair, placed my shoes under the chair, stretched out on the bed in the same place, and fixed my gaze on a spot on the ceiling.

I didn’t move or even get nervous when Ash came upstairs, entered the room, and started buckling the cuffs around my wrists.

He cinched the ropes tight to pull my arms and legs out toward the corners of the bed. He rendered me as helpless as last time, but this position didn’t make me nervous anymore.

I dropped into a sea of dead calm. Nothing bad could happen to me as long as I was here.

Whatever he did, I would enjoy it. He would never hurt me or do anything I didn’t want him to do. I knew that in the marrow of my bones.

He finished tightening the ropes and paced around me examining my body from all angles.

I didn’t look at him or watch him. I fixed my gaze on that spot on the ceiling. Whatever was about to happen would come either way.

That spot calmed me. It anchored me in the certainty that I was perfectly safe even here.

He surprised me by walking around the bed and sitting next to me on the mattress. My head snapped sideways to stare at him.

His features twisted when he gazed down at me. He looked as pained and distressed as he did after our session at the club.

He bent down, cupped my cheek in one hand, and kissed me. He kissed with all the passion of last week.

My desire for him exploded off the charts when I felt his passion building up in heat and power—but he broke away immediately. He sat up straight and went back to looking down at me.

He passed his thumb across my lips and then trailed his hand down to my neck.

I froze when he wrapped his fingers around my throat, but he only brushed it before he slid down to my shoulders, chest, and arms.

He stroked me all over and then migrated to my breasts. I clamped my eyes shut when he squeezed them. His touch made me want him so bad. Last week only made it worse.

He had been taking it easy on me by not doing it with me. I didn’t realize that until now.

I couldn’t tell where this aching need for him would end if he really did it with me—like really took me and expressed the depth of that passion.

He made me yelp and moan when he played with my nipples and then bent over to suck them.

He paid a lot more attention to them this time and took longer to tease them to hard little nubs.

He flicked his tongue over them in their hardest, most excited state and made gasp and whine while I tried in every way to get near him.

He climbed on top of me the way he did last time and mouthed both my nipples to ragged agony.

He shifted from my left nipple to my right—and his hand dropped down to my crotch.

I writhed in torment when he laid his flat fingers on my clit and started tracing slow, gentle circles over the most sensitive areas. He kept sucking my nipples until I couldn’t stand it.

I reared off the bed a dozen times trying to increase the pressure—both from his mouth on my breasts and his fingers on my slit.

He wouldn’t escalate no matter what I did. He wouldn’t speed up or press any harder.

He reduced me to a sobbing wreck of pathetic need before he gave my nipples one last delicious suck and crawled down to my stomach.

My eyes rolled back in their sockets and I turned my head away holding back sobs when he dropped one excruciating kiss after another across my stomach.

He mouthed up the sensitive skin under my ribs. I howled in agony when those kisses sent their electric charge through me. He kissed exactly the same spots on my stomach that I teased on him last week. The cruel bastard.

He kept circling at the same rhythm……and then glided his fingertips down to my swollen pussy lips.

He didn’t enter, though. He just trailed his fingertips through them….just enough to tell him how dripping wet he made me.

I actually screamed when he touched me—more from blistering desire than from anything he did. He didn’t do anything. He barely touched me at all.

He kept going down….down…..down…..leaving molten kisses around my navel and down to my mound……

He kissed on top of my pubic bone and then delivered the most meaningless kiss possible to my clitoris.

I howled in tortured, ravenous madness when he pulled away. How could he do this to me?

He finally, finally moved his body down between my legs and settled in to lick me…..but of course he didn’t just devour me the way I wanted him to.

His tongue left a feather-light trail through my engorged pussy lips, gave my clitoris the most passing graze, and breathed on me until I convulsed on the bed in brutal misery.

I kept trying to throw my hips at him, but he adjusted his position again and again so I couldn’t touch him.

He dallied his tongue a little deeper between my saturated petals and inched higher toward my clitoris. How could he torment me like this?

He sank deeper into the bed and started circling my clitoris again—with his tongue this time.

He made me scream again and again, but he still didn’t escalate. He built up slowly until my desire flew completely out of control.

I yanked against the ropes, but I couldn’t free myself. He licked a little faster….a little harder……and then I really did almost break down in tears when he eased off and stood up.

I turned my head away so he wouldn’t see me moaning and whimpering in desolate hunger.

Of course he saw. He kept pacing around the bed staring down at me. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

I had to pay attention when he dropped his knees on the bed and propped himself on all fours on top of me.

His face hung directly over me and his voice shot straight to the center of my being. “Look at me,” he commanded.

I turned around and looked, but I couldn’t help grimacing in agony when I looked into his eyes.

Now he would see. Now he would know how much I needed and wanted him—like he didn’t already know.

He kissed me just long enough to get a rise out of me. As soon as he felt me respond, he pulled back to stare down into my eyes from directly above.

He lowered his hand between my legs, circled my clitoris a few more times, and then eased two of his fingers inside me.

I groaned that now, at last, I would be able to climax and relieve all this tension tearing me apart.

His eyes commanded me to look at him no matter what. I didn’t even try to hide how desperate and raw he made me.

He pumped his fingers into me again and again—and then pivoted his legs around to anchor his hips against his hand the way he did last time.

“Is this what you want?” he murmured. “Do you want to cum like this?”

“YES!!” I shrieked and moaned in craven desire. “I need to!”

“Beg me for it,” he snapped.

My eyes shot open. I actually froze in stunned shock. “What?!”

“Beg me for it. You want to cum? Beg for it. Beg me to make you cum.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

He got up immediately, pulled his fingers out of me like none of this meant anything to him, and climbed off the bed.

He went back to pacing around the room doing God knows what.

“I asked you last week if you wanted multiple orgasms or only one at a time,” he told me over his shoulder. “You still haven’t answered that question…..so you won’t get either until you do answer it. Do you want to cum or not?”

“YES!!” I bellowed. “You can’t do this to me!!”

He shrugged without hardly looking at me. “You have your safe word. You can leave whenever you want to.”

I opened my mouth a second time. Beg?

I couldn’t beg him to make me cum. That would be ridiculous.

The thought of begging anyone for anything contradicted everything I knew about myself—everything I knew about the nature of reality.

It was inhuman to make someone beg for something, especially something he should have given freely. We were having sex here, weren’t we—sort of?

I shouldn’t have to beg for that—for the privilege of enjoying myself.

He rummaged around under the bed and took out a different vibrator. This wasn’t the wand. It was much smaller.

He walked back and forth over there doing something or other. I was so out of my mind with all these confused emotions and desires that I didn’t see what he was doing.

“One thing you have to learn about BDSM,” he muttered under his breath. “You don’t get what you don’t ask for. You didn’t ask me to give you multiple orgasms. You didn’t ask me to give you one orgasm. So I won’t give you either until you ask—and ask nicely.”

He sat down next to me on the side of the mattress. I panicked when he switched on the vibrator and moved it toward my crotch.

“WAIT!!” I roared. “Don’t!! Please…..stop!!”

He shot me a hard glare. “‘Stop’ is not a safe word—and ‘Please stop’ is not a safe word. Your safe word is ‘red’. Say ‘red’ if you want to end our session. Until then…..”

He lowered the vibrator between my legs. I reared back to get away from it. The minute it touched my skin, I wouldn’t be able to control what happened next.

I tried in every possible way to wrench out of the line of fire, but he didn’t even have to try to adjust his position.

He lowered the vibrator onto my already trembling flesh. The vibrations lit me on fire and I collapsed back on the bed moaning and spasming as the buzz spiked me out of this world.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Cum for me. All you have to do is look me in the eye and beg me to make you cum.”

He raised his other hand and flattened his palm against my cheek. That one simple gesture forced me to turn around and look at him.

The look in his eyes almost made me cum right there. Looking into his eyes turned me on more than anything—and just as fast he took the vibrator away and switched it off.

I buckled whining and moaning in a frenzy. I hurled my body back and forth trying to touch anything and everything that might excite me enough to cum.

He kept his hand there so I had no choice but to keep looking at him. He kissed me once more—just a short, formal little kiss.

Then he straightened up and went back to looking into my eyes. No one could look into a person’s eyes like he could.

“Come on,” he murmured. “You know you want this. Don’t you? Don’t you want to cum right now?”

“YES!!” I wailed.

“Then say it. Say you want to cum.”

“I WANT TO CUM!!” I roared. “YOU KNOW I DO!!”

“Then ask for it. That’s all you have to do.”

I opened my mouth…..and faltered. “I can’t!”

He shrugged and started to stand up. He actually turned away. “Then we’ll just keep going until you do. I can keep doing this all night.”

“NO!!” I screamed and tried again in vain to get off the bed. “NO…..DON’T!!”

He turned around and raised his eyebrow at me. “Then ask for what you want. You know how to ask for things. What do you say?”

I wilted on the bed whimpering and bawling, but I still couldn’t cry. This somehow hurt so much worse than tears could ever express.

He studied me with cold, calculated, scientific ruthlessness—and his tone changed to his harsh, commanding snap. “What do you say, Lucy?”

I couldn’t look at him. I turned my head away again. “Please……” I moaned.

“Look at me when you talk to me,” he snapped. “I’m not some bellboy at a hotel. Look me in the eye and beg me to give you what you want. You won’t get it any other way.”

I swallowed hard. God only knew how I could possibly face him. I couldn’t have faced him like this for anything.

Begging him to give me an orgasm—no way in hell.

I couldn’t lie here like this without it, though. The thought of him licking me….or fingering me….or using the vibrator on me….or touching me in any other way…..I just couldn’t face it. I needed him too much.

I clamped my eyes shut while I turned my head. I pointed my face in his direction….and opened my eyes.

Looking at him disintegrated the last walls. I crumbled into a mess of emotions and really did start crying. “Please…..” I sobbed. “Please…….please let me cum……I need to cum so bad……please…..I’ll do anything……”

He dove onto the bed immediately and started kissing me as never before. His mouth consumed my whole mind. Even my tears got into both of our mouths, but neither of us stopped.

He pivoted sideways, switched on the vibrator, locked it against my clitoris under his thigh, and shoved both fingers all the way into me.

I screamed again when he started pumping his hips into me so much harder than he did last week. He didn’t stop kissing me even for a second.

His hips drilled his fingers into me in deep, crushing thrusts, but the vibrator really did the trick.

The volcanic pocket of energy he’d been building up inside me all this time detonated in a catastrophic climax that made me break down screaming into his mouth.

He still didn’t let up. He only kissed me harder. Little grunts of primal hunger kept escaping from his nose every time he pumped into me.

He clenched his other arm around me and plastered his weight down on top of me to pin me to the bed.

I clamped my eyes shut to stop myself from flying into a million pieces.

As soon as that climax started to ebb, I dissolved in a puddle of ragged emotion. I couldn’t even explain why this made me so emotional….except that I needed him. I begged him and he did it.

He kissed me one more time and moved his head off to one side. He pulled his fingers out, switched off the vibrator, left it lying on the bed, and wrapped both arms around me.

He held me while I cried. He didn’t let go even to untie the ropes from my arms and legs.

When he did, he rolled onto his side and pulled me against him again the way he did last week—but this was nothing like last week.

This broke something in me. I couldn’t keep doing this—not without something more from him. I needed…..him.

This wasn’t about training anymore. It wasn’t about me learning about BDSM. It was him. It always had been him.

I pulled away from him first this time, sat up on the edge of the bed, and buried my face in my hands.

Now I knew why I was crying. I was crying because I needed him. I needed him for something I wouldn’t be able to get—not like this.

He didn’t get up. He stayed lying down there behind me. I didn’t turn around to look at him.

“I would like to leave now….if you’ll let me……” I husked under my breath. “I won’t use my safe word because……”

I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought it. I didn’t want to stop being submissive to him.

That was the real problem. I didn’t want to keep going back and forth between being submissive to him and NOT being submissive to him.

I didn’t want to break the rules he set for me. I didn’t want to do something against his wishes.

That was the problem. I needed more—or nothing.

He sat up on the bed next to me, but he didn’t touch me. “You can leave if you want to,” he murmured. “Do you want to come back next week?”

I nodded down at my hands. I had to tell him, but I couldn’t do it now.

My heart broke for something I never had—and might never have—but I had to tell him the truth.

I just needed to decide how to tell him.

That was the moment when I made up my mind. If I couldn’t see him again, then that was just the way it had to be. If I couldn’t have more with him—if I couldn’t have his heart for real—then I didn’t want anything.

“You can go anytime you want to,” he murmured and he bent over, picked up my wrist, and started unbuckling the cuffs.

I sat in silence and stared at the floor while he unbuckled both cuffs from my wrists. I made sure not to look at him when he went down on one knee to unbuckle the cuffs from my ankles.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to re-buckle them and hook them together. I didn’t look at him when I stood up and started getting dressed.

I waited until I put my shoes and jacket back on before I faced him, raised my head, and locked my bloodshot eyes on him. “I’ll see you next week,” I mumbled.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll text you later to make sure you’re okay.”

I only nodded. I would be okay.

I walked out of the apartment totally solid in stone-cold certainty. I knew exactly what I needed. If I couldn’t get it, then I was better off alone.

End of Chapter 8.

Here we go, folks. I'm changing my work schedule, so we'll see how this works. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.

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A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 7

I snapped awake and my head shot up. I wasn’t in my bed at home.

I glanced around before I remembered. I was in the bedroom in Ash’s apartment.

I still wore all four of the sheepskin padded leather cuffs he used on me last night. Other than that, I was completely naked.

I lay in bed alone with the covers over me. I didn’t remember falling asleep. I must have fallen asleep in his arms after our session.

He wasn’t here now. There was no sign that he stayed in this room with me last night.

I sat up….and spotted a hand-written note sitting on top of my clothes that I left folded on the chair.

I picked up the note. The shower is across the hall. Leave the cuffs here, get dressed, and come downstairs.

I smiled to myself. Daylight streamed through the windows from outside. I spent the night in his apartment. Should I read anything into that?

I unbuckled the cuffs, left them on the bed, took a shower across the hall, got dressed, and went downstairs.

I found Ash making breakfast in the kitchen. He was already wearing his business suit for the day.

He put a plate on the kitchen counter. “Sit down and eat your breakfast,” he told me. “How do you like your coffee?”

“I’m a cop. I like it black, of course.”

He shot me a smirk, poured me a cup of coffee, set it next to me, and went back to plating up his own meal. “When do you have to go to work today?”

“I’m not working today. I have the day off.”

“What are your plans?”

I picked up my fork. He’d made me a waffle, scrambled eggs, and bacon with a cut-up orange on the side.

“I usually do meal prep, clean the house, and maybe have lunch with Riley if she isn’t too busy.”

“Let me guess. You guys talk about your cases even when you’re off duty.”

Now it was my turn to smirk at him. “Guilty as charged.”

He put his plate on his side of the counter and ate standing up. “I’m glad you have someone to talk to about all this—someone other than me. It will be good for you to get someone else’s perspective.”

I winced. “I don’t talk to Riley about this—about any of it.”

His head shot up. “You don’t? Why not?”

“I don’t know. I could say she wouldn’t understand even though I know she would. I guess I just don’t want her to know. I don’t want her experience and opinion to color my experience. I already know what I’m experiencing and thinking. I don’t need her to interpret it for me.”

He studied me for a second and then looked down so he could spear some of his scrambled eggs into his mouth. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

I glanced around. “Do we have to do anything before I leave?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—you said that when I came in here, I would become submissive to you the minute I walked in the door. You said we would go through that time over there where I would be able to talk to you, ask questions, and raise objections.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“So do we have to go through something like that in reverse before I leave—like some kind of process where I stop being your submissive? This is the first I’ve ever…..”

I trailed off. What should I say?

It was the first time I spent the night in his apartment. It wasn’t the first time I’d left his apartment after one of our sessions. We never went through any special procedure before.

He shrugged it away. “We probably should. It’s probably a good idea. We can do that.”

“We don’t have to. I just wasn’t sure if there was….you know….some kind of turning-off point where I stop being your submissive—I mean, where I stop being submissive to you when I leave.”

“Yeah, we could do that. Good idea. Finish eating and we can do it now.”

I ate the last of my waffle and orange, downed my coffee, and then went to the apartment’s downstairs bathroom to brush my teeth. I always brushed my teeth after meals.

I came out and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Ash sitting in his usual place on the couch facing the door.

He sat with his ankle propped on his knee. “Stand over there.” He pointed to the usual place.

I stopped there—and my chest tightened. I stood in front of him fully dressed with my handbag over my arm.

I was about to walk away—again. Whatever this was going on between us, it was about to end—again.

I suffered another stabbing sensation in my chest. I didn’t want to leave—ever.

“What did you think of the session last night?” he asked. “How do you think it went?”

I nodded, but I felt numb. “It went well, I thought.”

“Did you think you would have multiple orgasms?”

“No, I didn’t think you would be able to.”

“How did it feel when you did?”

I considered before I chose the right word. “It was overwhelming—and kind of scary.”

“Were you scared of me at any time?”

“No, not you. Mostly I was scared that I was out of control and couldn’t stop my body from responding to you. I wanted to move around so I could control the situation and I couldn’t do either.”

“Would you want to have multiple orgasms again?” he asked.

I tried to grin at him and wound up squirming instead. “Something tells me you would make me have them even if I didn’t want them.”

“I would never do that. I would never do anything to you if you didn’t want me to. If you don’t want them, all you have to do is tell me. Is that what you want? Do you only want to have one orgasm at a time—because I can arrange that if that is what you want.”

“How would you do that?”

“That’s my business. It’s your responsibility to tell me what you want. Then it’s my job to provide it to you.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to another. I really wanted to look away, but I couldn’t—not when he held my gaze with such power.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “Just tell me what it is you want. That’s all you have to do. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

I hesitated again. I couldn’t say it—but I had to. “I want to be your submissive.”

“You can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because you aren’t a masochist.”

“Can’t you teach me how to be one?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You want me to train you to be a masochist?”

“I want to understand how someone could want someone to inflict pain on them. I don’t understand how anyone could actually want that.”

He shook his head. “I think that would be a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because, as usual, you have no idea what you’re even talking about. You don’t want to be a masochist. You just want to understand it. You don’t actually want to be my submissive. You want something else. Just tell me what it is you really want.”

I took a long time to work up the courage to actually say it—at least, it felt like a long time. “Are you ever going to kiss me?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Why do you want me to?”

“To show that you care about me as much as I care about you.”

“You know I care about you, Lucy. I care about you very much. You know that.”

“Are you ever going to let me touch you?”

Now it was his turn to take a long time to answer. “You want to touch me?” he asked.

“Of course. I already told you that. Don’t you already know?”

“What do you want to touch me for?”

I started to feel myself getting emotional. Why did he have to force me to say it so explicitly? He already knew how I felt about him.

He sat there waiting for me to answer. God damn, he could be so infuriating!

“Why do you want to touch me?” he demanded in a harsher tone.

“Because…..” I choked on the words. “Because I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I want to give you some of what you’re giving me. I know I can’t, but I at least want to do something for you. I want to express……how I feel about you…..through touch…..but you never let me…..”

I broke off. My throat hurt. I couldn’t go on with this conversation.

I should just walk away right now. Standing in front of him made me ashamed that I even cared about him—that I wanted something more with him—that all this BDSM play actually made me want him this much.

I actually meant it when I said I needed him. I needed a lot more of him than just for him to play around with my body and make me cum and teach me what BDSM was.

I couldn’t get my voice working well enough to make a polite exit. Walking out of the apartment without saying anything would be too rude, but I had to get out of here before this disaster got any worse.

He startled me by standing up, walking around the coffee table, and standing in front of me.

I almost took a step back in alarm. He’d never done anything like this before.

“If you want to touch me, go ahead and do it,” he told me.

My head shot up a second time. “What?”

“Go on. You want to touch me. Do it now. Touch me the way you want to.”

“You mean…..any way I want to? I can do anything?”

He dipped his chin once. “Anything you want.”

I stared at him with a million thoughts racing through my head. Did he really just say that?

All the fantasies I had been having about him collided in my brain. I could do anything to him…..but only to him.

I realized a split second later what he didn’t say. He didn’t say we would have a mad passionate roll in the hay like a real couple.

He said I could touch him—the way he touched me. This would be completely one-sided.

I blinked at him before it all came together in my mind. He might never give me a chance like this again. I had to make this count.

I also realized something else without him explaining it to me. I was still in his apartment—which meant I was still submissive to him.

He was letting me do this to him. He didn’t have to.

Touching him wouldn’t be a deeply moving emotional experience—not the way it would have been if we had real sex—so-called “vanilla” sex. This wouldn’t be like that at all.

The last doubt evaporated from my mind and I took a step toward him, clasped both hands on either side of his face, and kissed him.

I poured out all the emotion I’d been fighting these last few weeks into that kiss. I kissed him deeper and let my lips play on his.

He responded and kissed me back—but he didn’t touch me back. He didn’t put his arms around me.

That somehow made it so much more important that I kiss him the way I needed to—with all the painful longing I’d been keeping buried all this time.

I tilted my head to one side and let my mouth open. I kept both hands around his cheeks—and his tongue met mine.

He kissed me back building up heat stronger and stronger, but he still kept his arms down at his sides the whole time.

He didn’t back off in the slightest. All the emotion I unloaded on him came back to me a thousandfold. He kissed me hard and deep, but he still didn’t raise his hands to do anything else.

The rest of him remained locked in this rigid stiffness that never softened. His breath strained in his nostrils as the heat in our mouths built to an explosive pitch.

Kissing him like this electrified me beyond belief. I had to show him everything. I had to show him right now how I felt about him.

My fingers threaded into his hair and down his neck. My body vibrated with a kind of passion I’d never felt for anyone.

I slipped my arm around his neck, pressed my body against him, and rose on my tiptoes to kiss him to the ends of the Earth.

I dropped my handbag on the floor and let all my desire flow out of my body into him.

He rasped through his nose kissing me back just as strongly. His lips caught hold of mine and his tongue slithered around mine every time I slipped into his mouth.

I crushed my breasts against his body through our clothes. Damn, I wanted him so bad!

He stayed standing there in granite stillness. He never moved. He never raised a hand even to touch my face, but that was okay. This moment was all mine—and so was he.

I could have kept kissing him for the rest of forever, but too many ideas infected my brain. He said I could do whatever I wanted.

I eased off and stared up at him boiling in passion. I didn’t even try to hide it. I wanted him more now than ever.

I bit my lip where his saliva tingled on my mouth. He tasted magnificent. What would the rest of him be like?

He glared down at me with the same fire flickering in those dark eyes. He wanted it. He wanted it real bad. He just didn’t let himself raise a hand to take it.

He could have. He could have attacked me right now, thrown me down on the couch, and overpowered me exactly the way he said.

He wouldn’t, though. This moment wasn’t about that.

I let my fingers trail out of his hair, down his cheek, to the collar of his shirt. What would he look like under his clothes?

He never took his clothes off around me—ever. He never once took his suit off.

I glanced up at his eyes just to make sure. He never flinched. He didn’t say a word to change his mind. He wouldn’t. He told me what to do. Now it was up to me.

I held his gaze and trembled with aching hunger when I slid his jacket over his shoulders. He felt muscular and powerful under his shirt.

Touching him like this made me tremble. I asked for this. Could I really handle letting that monster out of its cage?

He moved his arms just enough to take them out of his jacket sleeves. I took hold of his cuffs to pull them down and draped the jacket over the coffee table next to me.

I looked up into his eyes and held eye contact when I pulled his tie loose. He stared down into the depths of my soul when I slid it out of his collar and started unbuttoning his shirt.

I had to look down at my hands to see what I was doing, but I kept glancing up at him to make sure he was okay with this.

The volcanic, furious energy in those eyes only became more menacing and dangerous with every button I undid. He built to some kind of explosion barely kept under control by the power of his own will.

I glanced down at my hands undoing the buttons in front of his stomach. He was just as chiseled under his shirt as he looked on the outside.

My hands shook when I pushed the shirt off his shoulders. I couldn’t look him in the eye when I held the cuffs down so he could slide his arms out of his shirt.

I laid the shirt on top of his jacket, but I didn’t dare to look into his eyes—not now when I came face to face with his naked skin.

I laid my trembling hand on his chest….and ran it back and forth from one shoulder to the other. His nostrils flared and his breath rasped in his nose, but he didn’t let himself move.

The weight of his intense stare wouldn’t let me look up. I concentrated on his body.

A kind of awe came over me when I touched him. I actually felt like I was standing in front of some kind of god or maybe a statue of male perfection.

He wasn’t perfect. He was too old to be perfect—but the person he was made him perfect. It made him the most perfect man in the world—right here in front of me.

He actually flinched when my hand trailed down to his stomach. His breath caught the way I flinched when he touched my stomach when he blindfolded me.

He kept his eyes open the whole time and so did I. I stroked him all over his chest and stomach, but this overpowering need for him pushed me onward.

I leaned and kissed his neck. The minute my face made contact with his skin, the walls came down and I couldn’t hold back.

I dove in much harder and took a big, hot juicy mouthful of his neck right under his ear.

He choked trying to breathe. I loved that sound. I wanted to make him love it. I wanted to make him want it so bad that he couldn’t stand it.

I mauled his neck, bit his ear, and crawled down his neck to climb up the other side. I burrowed into his hair breathing on his skin and dropped down to kiss across his chest.

He didn’t grab my head or follow my movements. He just stood there and took it, but his breathing told the truth.

He panted harder when I got to his nipples, sucked them in greedy madness, and then nuzzled down his stomach. Touching him, kissing him, and turning him on like this made me intoxicatingly hungry for him.

He said I could do whatever I wanted, and by God, I would do it. I wouldn’t walk out of here until I did it. To hell with the consequences.

I nibbled across his stomach and found the sensitive place under his ribs. I reveled in the sound of him gasping and flinching when I dragged my tongue down that skin and then raked my teeth over it.

I sank lower onto my knees and, in my last act of triumph, I looked up into his eyes when I took hold of his belt to pull it loose.

He glared down at me breathing heavily through his nose. He looked even more like some mythical hero standing here with his shirt off.

His cock pulsed and twitched inside his pants. He wanted this. He wanted every last living inch of it.

I pulled his belt loose….and slid his zipper down……

He was wearing a pair of spandex boxers under his suit pants. I slid his pants down and took his boxers with them.

His cock fell out into my face. I planned to take his pants and shoes off so he would be completely naked—the way he made me be naked last night.

I couldn’t resist that cock in my face, though. I caught him in my mouth and sucked for all I was worth.

He stiffened and clenched his hands into fists, but he still didn’t touch me. He didn’t grab my hair or shove his prick into my mouth. I really wished he would.

He went rigid when I picked up speed and cupped his balls in a gentle grip. His nuts spasmed in my hand.

I sank down on him deeper….and coiled my tongue around him tasting every inch of his flesh.

I worked him deeper into my throat and let my tongue trail out toward his balls.

The next time I pulled out toward the tip, I dove under his cock and circled my tongue around his balls.

He actually stopped breathing—but just for a second.

I looked up at him. He still stared down at me from high above.

This view of him stabbed me in the heart more than anything. He was such an amazing guy. I wished I could somehow communicate to him how much he meant to me—but maybe this was the best way.

I eased off and looked down at the floor to untie his shoes. He bent over and rested his hand on my shoulder to keep his balance while I took them off and then slid off his pants and boxers.

He straightened up immediately and went right back to the same stiff position. He didn’t touch me or direct me at all.

I could have gone back to sucking him, but that would never be enough, either. I didn’t want this moment to end like that—not without going all the way.

I stood up in front of him. He stayed where he was with his rigid cock sticking straight out at me. Now it was my turn.

I took a step back, pulled off my blazer, and started unbuttoning my shirt in front of him.

His hard eyes traced down my body when I pulled it off. He watched me unclip my bra and then push my pants down.

I put all my clothes on the coffee table next to his.

This procedure didn’t cool the fire between us at all. We both knew what was coming and we both wanted it.

Letting him watch me undress excited me as much as undressing him. I already knew I was good enough for him. He wanted me.

He wanted me that first night at the club. He said so.

He had been wanting me every time we met since. Only his own iron self-control held him back.

I took a step nearer and kissed him with everything I had. I let my own hunger off its chain and rubbed my body all over him while we kissed for the ages.

I kept my eyes open and so did he. I shuddered in aching desire when I dragged my breasts across his chest and rubbed my swollen pussy down his thigh.

Him standing there not touching me somehow turned me on beyond belief. I could let it all go. I didn’t have to guard myself or protect myself or make out that I was purer or better behaved than I really was.

I wanted him in naked, animal passion and I took it.

I could have worked myself up to an orgasm just from rubbing my pussy against his leg.

This would have felt so much better than doing it with our clothes on, but no way in hell would I let myself cum like that when I had his bare, hard cock right here in front of me.

I wrapped one arm around his neck still kissing him in raving madness. I raised one leg, hooked it behind his ass, and worked his cock into my dripping slit.

He let out one deep exhalation of pleasure and then we both swam in each other’s eyes while I sank down on him.

His body went as hard as iron when I stroked up and down on him. I hung onto him to keep my balance.

Looking into his eyes like this fogged my mind with one delirious wave of lust after another. I felt myself winding up to another life-changing orgasm.

This one would be one for the record books—now that I could feel his whole body against me and look into his eyes.

Having him grab me and take me would have been even better—or would it? I couldn’t think clearly enough to decide.

I was still submissive to him even now. Touching him like this didn’t diminish his dominance at all.

He would never let me do anything to him without his dominant control over the situation. I never had to question that.

I picked up speed. Doing everything myself like this made me take longer to climax, but in a way, the erotic charge of holding myself in this position also sparked me into a paroxysm beyond anything I’d ever known.

I kept kissing him through it all. I couldn’t lose that contact, especially not when my body took over.

I slammed myself down on him harder and faster. I couldn’t stop it and then I detonated in a bone-crushing climax that almost knocked me over.

I had to hold onto him quaking and screaming as the wave hit. I couldn’t kiss him anymore. I smashed my mouth against his howling all this torment into him.

My body went into convulsions. I couldn’t even ride him anymore. I just had to hang onto him and take it in all its mind-blowing power.

He never broke eye contact, not even when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.

I wilted on him, but I didn’t want to let go of him. I wanted to cling to him forever just to find some protection from all these raging emotions and sensations.

His cock pulsed inside me, but he didn’t cum. He stayed as hard as ever. He didn’t release when I did.

I felt my body starting to sag. I wanted to pass out, but one thought kept me standing up. I wasn’t finished. I said I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he gave me. I hadn’t accomplished that yet.

I looked up at him in drunken ecstasy. His eyes mesmerized me. Did he see now? Did he understand by now?

I almost fell flat on my ass when I let go of him. I put my other leg down…..and turned around.

He wouldn’t do it, so I had to. I bent over and backed up to him. I even had to guide him into me.

He groaned in agony when I slid all the way back and took him all the way in. I would have fucked him like this, but in that moment, he finally raised his hands and took hold of my hips.

My eyes rolled back in their sockets when he pulled me back down on him. Holy fuck, he felt good!

He started slowly and snarled through gritted teeth every time he stroked in. That sound melted together with the blissful feeling of his thick meat filling me full of everything I always wanted from him.

He built up power and speed with every thrust. Oh, yes. I needed him to cum. I needed to know he felt it.

I arched my back into his thrusts….and he slid his hand up my back to my neck.

His fingers closed on the back of my neck from behind—so gently—but he held me there in that position while his rhythm escalated.

I arched higher to take him into the most sensitive spots of my already quivering channel.

He was the one who taught me how to have multiple orgasms. I felt myself winding up for another massive one.

This angle felt different. It felt better, deeper, and more brutal.

He slammed in harder with every thrust. His fingers tightened on my neck and on my hip. Hell yes.

Those hands took hold of me and he slammed in impossibly hard. This was it. He was doing it. He was taking me somewhere no one had ever taken me before.

He knew what I needed in ways no other man did. He knocked me nearly off my feet with the force of each penetration.

I needed it hard. I needed it as hard as he could give it to me—and he gave it to me.

I heard myself starting to scream and then I couldn’t stop screaming. My own screams took over and I wheeled off into the stratosphere of another epic climax.

He roared at me to match my screams and his cum flooded me. The heat spiked me off the charts and I floundered just to stay conscious.

That moment spiraled me into outer space for a long minute, but I started to float back down immediately. I didn’t go into another zoned-out trance. I didn’t feel like I was about to pass out.

His hands relaxed. He kept growling and groaning as his strokes eased. His cum gushed out of me and dripped down my thighs.

I stood up first. I didn’t wait for him to let go or pull out on his own.

I turned around…and our eyes met.

I couldn’t define all the emotions in his eyes. I didn’t try to. I was still too lost in space to even think about that.

I only knew I wanted him. I wanted to feel this way about him and for it to be okay. I didn’t want to hide it anymore—and I didn’t have to.

I put my arms around him and kissed him—and this time, he put his arms around me and kissed me back.

One hand slid up my spine to cradle the back of my head. My hair spilled over his face when he tilted my head to the side….and then he pulled away and buried his head in my shoulder.

He crushed me against him holding me tighter than tight. He hid his eyes against my shoulder and just held me there.

This moment—this hug—it meant something so much different than all the other times he held me.

I stroked the back of his hair and neck…and then I kissed the side of his head. It was all right because we both wanted this.

He clung onto me because he needed me as much as I needed him—and it was all right. He didn’t have to hold himself off from me.

If he went back to that in our next meeting, that would be all right, too, because we had this.

He took a long time before he straightened up. When he did, he started kissing me again. We kissed each other gazing into each other’s eyes.

I saw so much in those eyes—so much that could never be expressed in words.

I petted his cheeks and ran my fingers through his hair. I got so lost in his eyes and mouth that I forgot for a long time that we were both still naked.

I didn’t remember until he loosened his arms from on my body.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke in a husky undertone. “Are you going to be okay today?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Are you?”

He nodded and gave me one more light peck on the lips. “Yeah. I’m good.”

I found myself grinning and blushing at him. “Do I need to text you to check on you in the next few days to make sure you’re okay?”

He burst out laughing and his cheeks colored. “I think you better. I might drop hard from this. That was the most brutal session ever.”

I laughed, too, and we kissed for another minute before we both broke apart.

Neither of us spoke while we put our clothes back on, but we kept stealing looks at each other and smiling. I definitely caught him flushing when he smiled at me.

We both got dressed and I hung my handbag over my arm before I kissed him again. “Thank you. I loved that.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You are so beautiful. You gave me such a gift today.”

I kissed him again, but I had to stop sometime before I got stuck in kissing him for the rest of the day.

I pulled away. “Bye,” I whispered.

“Bye,” he murmured. “Have a good day. I’ll see you next week.”

I pointed at him when I backed toward the door. “I’ll text you.”

He laughed. “I can’t wait.”

I left and went down to the sidewalk. I couldn’t stop grinning to myself when I got into the car. Then I had a crazy idea, pulled out my phone, and sent him a text.

Are you okay?

I feel like I just got injected with some kind of super drug that turns me into Superman.

I laughed. I’m sure you could find some crashing airplanes to save.

Don’t you have carpets to vacuum and meals to prep? he asked.

I laughed again. Oh, yeah. I forgot.

I’m okay. You don’t have to keep checking on me.

But I want to.

He sent back a kiss emoji. So that was the end of the conversation.

I smiled to myself and put my phone in my pocket. I would text him tomorrow. This was my session, so the aftercare was my responsibility, too.

Texting him to check on him would almost be as fun as doing it with him—almost.

End of Chapter 7

Good morning, dear readers. You have all been unbelievably kind about me posting my work. Unfortunately, life has a way of interfering and I need to pause the story for a bit while I straighten out other areas of my life. I will take an indefinite haitus after today's post. I hate to disappoint everyone, but I need to prioritize other things until I get back on track. Thank you for reading. I hope to continue this soon as soon as things settle down. I hope you understand.

__________________

 

I walked into Ash Keiff’s apartment building—and stopped.

The door at the top of the stairs was closed this time—and he had left a note taped to the outside of the door facing the stairs.

Did he cancel our meeting? Why wouldn’t he just text me to tell me?

He texted me earlier to tell me to wear casual clothes again—nothing fancy. He didn’t give me any other clue about what to expect.

I climbed the stairs and read the note.

Walk in and stand where I told you to stand last time. From now on, you’ll enter through this door without knocking and stand in the same place without waiting for me to tell you to do it.

Those words sent a torch of fire through my insides. This changed things. I couldn’t exactly define what it changed, but he was escalating this…..whatever it was.

Dynamic. That’s what people in the BDSM world called this kind of dominant/submissive relationship. Ash and I were in a dynamic. I just couldn’t define exactly what that dynamic was.

I guess I had to admit that he was dominant and I was submissive. That much was obvious. I just wasn’t his submissive.

I took the note off the door and walked into the apartment. He sat in the same place on the couch facing the door with one ankle propped on his knee and one arm draped over the back of the couch.

He locked eyes on me with that look that told me exactly what was about to happen.

I shut the door behind me and stopped in the place that he told me.

“There will no time limit tonight—or any time after this,” he began. “From now on, the minute you walk through that door, you will obey me in everything and submit to everything I do and say without question. You’ll be free to raise any objections here—when you first walk in. We’ll talk here about what we’re going to do—and I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You can raise any objections or ask any questions here. Other than that, you’ll submit to me for as long as you’re in this apartment. Is that clear?”

I gulped. So this was it. We were crossing that line. “Yes,” I quavered. “It’s clear.”

“Do you have any questions now?”

A million questions rushed into my mind. Did he ever plan to have sex with me? Did he ever plan to kiss me? Would he ever let me touch him—or do anything else to him?

What did it really take to be his submissive? Did he love his submissives—or did he just use them? Did anyone hold that place in his heart—the place he was starting to hold in mine?

I couldn’t bring myself to ask any of those questions—not now—so I just said, “No.”

“We’re going to take things further tonight,” he told me. “You’ll be completely naked this time and I will penetrate you—but only with my fingers and maybe some small objects. I’ll keep my clothes on the whole time so you won’t have any kind of genital contact with me. Is that clear?”

I could barely bring myself to nod. Should I be happy about this?

He took this teaching, protective role over me. He never took it further. He never made this about any kind of romantic relationship between us. It was almost like a business transaction for him.

Did he want that kind of romantic relationship—or did he just want to play around with me and make me have all these orgasms by myself without ever touching me?

I shifted my weight from one foot to another waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing prepared me for the moment when it did.

“Have you ever had multiple orgasms?” he asked.

My head shot up. “What?”

“Multiple orgasms,” he repeated. “More than one orgasm either in the same sexual encounter or more than one per day. Do you ever have more than one at a time?”

“Um….no……I never have.”

He just dipped his chin once. “I didn’t think so. Go upstairs to the bedroom where you stayed last week. Take off all your clothes, fold them on the chair, put your shoes under the chair, and lie down on the bed on your back in the very center of the bed.”

He clipped off his words in that short, commanding tone that left absolutely no wiggle room to question his order.

I turned away and headed for the stairs. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure where they were, but it didn’t take me long to find them.

I went into the bedroom and got to work. My heart pounded while I took my clothes off. Part of me dreaded what Ash would do when he came up here, but he basically already told me.

He would touch me—and penetrate me with his fingers and maybe some small objects—but that was it. He would try to make me have multiple orgasms, but he would probably fail.

Orgasms were a one-time thing for me. They always had been. My body was just wired that way.

I folded my clothes on the chair, put my shoes under the chair, and stretched out naked on the bed.

I stared up at the ceiling with my pulse racing. Something huge was about to happen. Something huge always happened when I visited Ash.

I only knew one thing about all of this. I would come out the other end of this a completely different person.

I had no idea who I would be then, but I couldn’t stop this until it came to its natural conclusion. This path or whatever it was—this was the direction I was supposed to be going now.

I waited for what seemed like hours, but it was probably no more than a few minutes.

I heard him coming up the stairs and then he walked into the room.

I forced myself to stare at the ceiling while he paced around and around the bed a few times inspecting me with that hard, unwavering glare of his.

He always did this at the start of our sessions. His gaze made me feel small and vulnerable, but I was already starting to get used to that, too.

I just had to lie here and wait for him to tell me what he wanted me to do.

I no longer believed he would be capable of hurting me. He kept every promise he ever made to me.

He swore he would never hurt me unless I specifically asked him to. He wouldn’t break that promise, either.

He paced around the bed again and stopped near the headboard by the lamp. I didn’t let myself see what he was doing.

He bent over, pulled something from behind the bedside table, and started attaching another cuff to my left wrist.

This cuff was made out of black leather with soft, sheepskin padding on the inside. He clipped another snaffle hook to the D ring and pulled on something.

It cinched tight and straightened my arm over above my head.

Then he did the same thing to my left ankle. These cuffs must be attached to some anchor points under the bed.

He walked around the bed restraining all four of my limbs. He left me lying spread-eagled with both arms and both legs stretched to the limit.

He returned to the bottom of the bed and stood there beyond my feet and directly between my legs.

He surveyed my helpless body from the vantage point directly in line with my exposed pussy. He could see absolutely everything with nothing in the way to block his view.

I couldn’t look at him. I concentrated on a spot on the ceiling. I couldn’t take seeing any kind of disapproval, disappointment, or annoyance in his face right now.

He startled me into paying attention when he took a step toward the bed, sank his weight onto one knee on the mattress, and crawled up my body.

I froze when I saw him coming closer, but he moved too fast. I braced myself for him to attack me—and he dove his face into my neck the way he did last time.

He straddled his knees on either side of my ribs and mauled his hot mouth up my neck to my ear and down. His teeth sank into my skin and set off a lightning bolt of sensation that actually made me scream.

That charge of power skyrocketed me into a dizzy tornado of ravenous lust. I wanted him to attack me—for real. I wanted him to attack me exactly the way I just braced myself to prepare for.

He gnawed up to my ear, exhaled one scorching, ragged breath of pure animal madness into my brain, and crawled down to my collarbone.

Every torturous dragging flame of his lips on my skin sent me into a thrashing convulsion of insatiable need. My body exploded—but I couldn’t touch him. I couldn’t do anything with my arms and legs tied like this.

He bit down my neck, up to my chin, across my chest, and up the other side of my neck to my other ear.

Every kiss—every mouthful—every bite—each one rocketed me out of my mind until I whined and screamed for him.

I thrust my body up trying to touch him any way I could—but he still wore all his clothes. He wouldn’t take them off.

Knowing I could never have him tore me apart—and it also made me achingly hungry for him. He would never satisfy that desire—not ever.

He grabbed a handful of my hair to hold my head down while he took one blistering mouthful of my neck after another. He held me there while he worked his way down to my chest.

He let go of my hair when he got to my breasts, but he clamped his hand on my shoulder instead like he really did need to hold me down.

He would. He didn’t need to tie me up. He could have held me down and taken me like he did in all my forbidden fantasies.

He sucked, nipped, and flicked my nipples with his tongue to make me howl and sob in naked lust. The dripping ache between my legs escalated to the breaking point.

I actually felt in that moment that I might have an orgasm just from all these torrential sensations rushing through me.

He tore off my nipple and left both of them tingling and wet from his saliva. His sucking mouth made them hard and sensitive to the slightest movement of air across my skin.

He left a trail of blistering kisses down my stomach and sank his whole hot, greedy mouth between my legs.

I really did scream when he licked me the first time. As wolfish and devouring as he had been before, he backed off instantly and gave me only the lightest licks at first.

I bucked against the ropes trying to shove my trembling flesh down on his face, but he only backed off and left me sobbing in miserable need.

He slowed down so much I really felt like I might start crying if he didn’t finish me off right this minute.

He didn’t. He swirled his tongue in my delicate tissues and made me yelp every time he teased my clitoris.

I collapsed on the bed, turned my face away, and moaned in agony. The feeling of him licking me actually hurt. It hurt worse than any torment I could remember. I needed him so bad.

He built up slowly eating me harder and faster until he took big mouthfuls of my flesh, sucked the juices off them, and then dove in to maul me.

I screamed as the energy picked up momentum to an unstoppable tide. He hooked his arms around my thighs and lifted my flesh into his greedy mouth.

He devoured me in every bigger mouthfuls until he burrowed all the way into me rooting like an animal.

I bucked against his face screaming in desperation. My body strained out of control—and then I exploded in his mouth.

He gobbled every ounce of my flesh as I thrashed, screamed, and bellowed on the bed. The unstoppable cataclysm blasted me apart the way all my orgasms did when I was with him.

He kept going until I collapsed shuddering and shaking on the bed. He eased off to light, gentle, tender licks again. Each flicker of his tongue sent another shockwave through me.

He sat up, wiped the juices off his chin, and reared onto his knees.

He passed his warm hands up and down my body in long, comforting waves sweeping up to my breasts, down my sides, and onto my thighs.

That touch brought me back to earth, but his hands didn’t let me relax completely.

He gripped my breasts and pinched my nipples in ways he never did before. He never touched me like this before.

He massaged my thighs in deep, comforting grips, worked higher up toward my slit, and then rubbed his palm into my saturated mound.

His heat radiated into me and both soothed me and turned me on at the same time.

He rubbed his flat fingers into my clitoris, but he only did it a few times before he pushed back and stood up next to the bed.

I shut my eyes and turned away whimpering as the last ebbs of climax died away. I needed to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. I needed him to hold me, cover me with a blanket, and let me rest after that orgasm.

He moved off and turned his back on me. I couldn’t look at him. He didn’t untie me. He didn’t even seem to notice my distress.

I wilted in relief when he turned around—but he still didn’t untie me.

I jolted when he passed something down my body. It tickled.

My eyes shot open and I realized he was teasing me all over with a feather duster.

He held it on the end of a long handle. He could stand at the edge of the bed and pass it up and down my skin without bending over.

He swirled it around my breasts, under my chin, and down to my sensitive trembling mound.

He stroked the feathers between my legs and made me jolt as another flame of excitement electrified me.

The feathers felt like his tongue between my swollen pussy lips. I yelped—and then he went back to passing the feathers up my stomach.

He tickled my sides, aroused all my most sensitive areas, and flicked the feathers across my erect nipples again.

I convulsed on the bed between an inescapable desire to get free and getting impossibly turned on—even more turned on than I was before. How was this even possible?

He put the feather duster down without explaining anything to me. He didn’t have to explain. He did what he wanted.

He did something else under the bed down there beyond my feet. I didn’t see what it was until he sat down on the bed next to me.

He picked up whatever it was and turned it on. It was a wand vibrator.

He took hold of a handful of my hair behind my neck, clenched down hard, and pulled my head around to face him. “Look at me, baby. You look at me and show me how much you want this.”

I gasped and then whined in agitation when he jammed the vibrator right up against my clitoris. The vibrations spread outward and drilled into me with unbelievable power.

“Cum for me,” Ash murmured. “I want to see you cum. That’s right. Do it for me. You want to obey me, don’t you?”

“Yes!” I choked.

“Cum for me.” He rotated the vibrator in a circle and I screamed again when it came to rest on my clitoris for the second time.

The vibrations felt so different from his mouth—or anything else he ever did to me. They burrowed deep into my being.

They infected me with an irresistible urge to fuck something. I needed something thick, fat, and hot inside me right now. I needed it real bad.

His eyes went hard again. I struggled against the urge to fall apart and start crying, but this aching need wouldn’t let me. It wouldn’t let me look away from those eyes.

He was right. I wanted to obey him even if I didn’t know how to have another orgasm. I never had more than one orgasm. That just didn’t happen to me.

I convulsed on the crest of a huge wave, but it wouldn’t break. The vibrator kept driving the wave higher and higher, but it wouldn’t release no matter how hard I tried.

I needed something else—something to make it happen.

“Cum for me, baby,” Ash murmured again. “Come on. Give yourself to me.”

I grimaced and almost burst into tears. I couldn’t do it, but I didn’t dare to tell him that.

He must have seen something wrong, because right then, he dove his face into my neck again.

He buried his mouth, nose, and eyes into my hair and his breath blew through my hair to flood my neck.

That feeling of him on top of me burst the dam apart. I screamed and then dissolved in a hideous orgasm that demolished my whole being.

This was so much bigger and more devastating than the orgasm I had in his mouth.

I shrieked and bellowed in his ear. I turned aside and plastered my head against his so I could feel him right there next to me.

I needed him. I needed to hold onto him for some solidity in this storm.

He stayed down there for a long time—long after I stopped screaming and roaring in his ear. Maybe now he would hear how much this shattered everything I knew about myself.

He switched off the vibrator, but he didn’t sit up right away. He let his weight rest on top of me in a comforting kind of embrace.

I drifted out of the clouds and floated in a daze. Now I really needed to lose consciousness for the next twelve hours before anyone asked me to function.

Ash stayed where he was for so long that I really started to believe he might be done. Maybe he was tired and wanted to go to sleep, too.

No such luck.

He sat up, but instead of standing up and moving around the room, he propped himself up on his hands and knees above me.

I dragged my sex-drunk eyes open to find him staring at me at close range.

I couldn’t figure out what his expression was trying to communicate—until he raised one hand and placed it on my quivering, sensitive tissues.

He rubbed his flat fingers over my clitoris again—just enough to flood me with another delirious wave of pleasure.

“Give me this,” he breathed. “Give me what I want. This is all mine.” He slid two thick, muscular fingers into me. “Do you feel that?”

I gasped again and wound up moaning as he thrust it in, but he did it gently.

The delicate nerve endings of my saturated, swollen flesh responded to him instantly, but my nerves wouldn’t function.

“Mmmm,” he murmured. “You feel so good. You’re delicious. Do you know that? Do you know how much I want to be inside you right now?”

He never said anything like that to me before, but I couldn’t appreciate the compliment. His fingers gave me no peace.

His arm and shoulder muscles strained and bulged when he drilled his fingers in. My inner channel spasmed around his fingers—and then he rotated on top of me.

He planted his knees between my thighs and pressed his leg against my pussy with his fingers still buried inside me.

His leg crushed his hand all the way in and he rocked his hips in a wicked fucking motion.

He locked his eyes on me. “Do you feel that?” He panted slightly at the end of every sentence. “Do you feel me fucking you like that? Cum for me. Let me feel you cum when I fuck you like this. Come on. I want to see how much you want me.”

I howled again as another brutal wave of passionate longing enveloped me. His body carried me on its own rhythm.

This wasn’t his fingers filling me up. It was him.

His clothes evaporated. He was on top of me jamming me full of his cock and making me cum as never before.

This was as close as I would ever get to actually having sex with him. I better make it count while it lasted.

He flexed his hips. That undulating rhythm traveled down his body. It mesmerized me with how powerfully sexual he was.

What would it feel like to really fuck him—to really feel his thick meat in me and throbbing as he built up to release?

My eyes rolled back in their sockets thinking about it. I fought to bring my vision back into focus so I could look at him, but the whole vision took over my mind.

He tied me up and fucked me. He used me the way he wanted—the way I wanted.

This was my fantasy coming true, right here and now.

I erupted in another orgasm. “Yes!” he bellowed down at me. “Yes! Come on! Cum for me! Come on! Do you feel that? You’re mine! This is mine!”

I screamed again and drown out whatever he said next. His body kept rippling down to his hips in magical thrusts to drive his fingers deep into my core.

I spasmed so hard I lost track of where I was and what was happening. I convulsed again and again until he pulled his hand out and lowered himself on top of me.

His hand migrated to my hair and he buried his face in my neck again. He didn’t try to get up and now I felt his full weight resting on top of me.

His weight felt so damn good. He was right here with me. I couldn’t hold him, but he was here.

He lay on top of me exactly the way he would if we really did just have sex. It was good enough the way it was.

In a minute, he rolled off me, but he didn’t get off the bed. He stretched out next to me, twisted back, and did something to release the rope binding my left wrist.

He did the same thing to my right wrist and then sat up to untie my legs. He didn’t take the cuffs off.

He lowered himself down on the bed next to me where he was lying before, pulled me onto my side, and folded me in his arms.

I huddled into his chest, shut my eyes, and let the last trace of consciousness go. I could finally take shelter in him and block out everything else.

End of Chapter 5.

A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 5

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I looked up from my computer when my phone buzzed on my desk. I picked it up and read a text from Ash.

When you come over tonight, wear the outfit you wore to the club.

I blinked at the message. This was the first time he ever contacted me for anything other than aftercare.

That’s what he called it when he checked on me after our sessions.

I started to smile and sent back a message of my own. Okay. See you there.

He didn’t reply with his usual kiss emoji. He didn’t reply at all.

I frowned at my phone waiting for his response. He always ended his messages with the kiss emoji.

Was something wrong? Did I do something to piss him off?

Wouldn’t he tell me if I did? We were still meeting tonight. Maybe he would tell me then—so why tell me to dress up?

I finished work, went home, and made sure to get every detail of my outfit right before I drove to his apartment.

I got butterflies walking up the stairs. This was only my third meeting with Ash—the second at his apartment. What would he do next?

I slowed down when I saw the door standing open at the top of the stairs. I eased inside and came face to face with him sitting on the couch in the living room.

He sat facing the doorway at the top of the stairs—right where he could see me show up.

He didn’t move or get up to greet me. He stayed sitting there resting one ankle on his knee.

He draped one arm over the back of the couch and the other resting on the arm next to him. He was wearing another suit.

“Stop right there,” he snapped. “Stand over there.”

He pointed at the spot where I was currently standing.

His tone made me freeze. He didn’t smile. His eyes and features hardened to a wall of ice. Now I knew I did something wrong.

I couldn’t even squirm. His gaze snapped down to my dress, shoes, necklace—everything. Was he checking that I did what he told me to do?

“Our session will last longer tonight.” He checked his watch again. “It will last no longer than an hour—and I will touch you tonight. There won’t be any penetration—of anything—no body parts—no objects—no penetration at all—but I will touch you. Do you agree?”

“Um…..yeah….” I hesitated to come right out and ask if he was mad at me about something specific.

His tone, the hard glint in his eye, and the way he sat there staring and evaluating me stopped me from asking—or doing anything.

He told me to stand here. He stayed sitting down. He didn’t soften or even try to make me feel comfortable or welcome.

I cringed in front of him. I sure hoped he didn’t think I screwed up somehow—but how could I have?

He had been over-the-top nice to me ever since we met. He had been beyond sweet and caring every time he texted to check on me.

“I’m going to restrain you again,” he went on in the same clipped, commanding tone. “You won’t be able to just walk away this time. You’ll actually be restrained—and I won’t blindfold you. You’ll be able to see everything. Are you ready for that? If you want to leave, you’ll have to use your safe word.”

I gulped. I actually had to think about it before I said, “Yes, I’m ready for that.”

“Strip down to your bra and panties,” he snapped.

I flinched again. He didn’t tell me I had to obey. His tone said it for me.

I couldn’t look at him while I pulled my dress over my head. I didn’t have to do anything else other than take off my shoes.

I would have liked to rub my arms and hopefully keep them crossed over the front of my body. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me at all.

He leveled me with such a hard, unforgiving stare that I wound up looking at the floor. Was he about to tell me to leave and never come back? I couldn’t face that.

He picked up something from the couch cushion next to him and tossed it to over to me. I didn’t realize until I caught it that it was the same set of soft cuffs I wore last time.

“Put these on,” he commanded.

I got busy putting them on. This seemed to be the way things were going now. Would I always wear this same set of cuffs every time I came here?

I finished pressing the Velcro into place. Now what?

He didn’t move for so long that I wound up looking up at him to see what the problem was. His eyes never wavered—nor did they soften.

“This is your last chance to walk away,” he told me. “Do you agree to all my conditions? You’ll do exactly as I say for the duration of our session—no questions. Once I start, the only way you walk out of here is by using your safe word.”

I forced myself to nod and say, “I agree,” but my voice sounded tiny and scared in the silence.

He waited another long, torturous minute and continued staring at me like he really had to think about whether I was good enough for him to go through with this.

He finally stood up, walked around the coffee table, and shut the apartment door behind me.

I knew better than to turn around when he stopped behind me.

He did something—I didn’t see what it was.

He took hold of one of my wrists and clipped something to the ring in my cuff on that side. Then he did the same thing on my other wrist.

He activated some other thing—and I realized that he had lowered ropes from some motorized attachment anchor in the ceiling.

The ropes extended from hidden portals up there. That’s why I didn’t notice them when I first walked in.

He used a remote control to lower and raise the ropes. They retracted, lifted my arms, and stretched them out on both sides.

He stayed behind me until the motor stopped with my arms extended all the way out and slightly above my shoulders.

He didn’t do anything for a minute. He just let me stand there and feel this.

I couldn’t get away. Tugging at the restraints did nothing. The ropes didn’t give. This position left me no room to move anywhere.

Without warning, he kicked his shoe against my ankles. “Get your legs apart,” he snapped.

I stumbled trying to stand with my legs apart. The air cooled my inner thighs.

This position made me tremble, but it also turned me on. Part of me didn’t want him to know it turned me on. I didn’t want him to take advantage of that.

I really dug myself into a hole now. This position put me in a compromising situation where he couldn’t fail to take advantage of me.

Was that really what I wanted? Wasn’t that what it meant to have a man possess me, own me, push me down, and take what he wanted?

He took his sweet time walking around me. He surveyed me up and down with the same brutal glare.

He stopped in front of me and stared straight down into my eyes. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even breath.

He took a step back, surveyed me from head to toe, and compressed his lips in an expression of what looked like frustration or annoyance.

I squirmed—or tried to. He was seeing me completely exposed in a whole new way. I was helpless before that merciless gaze—and anything else he wanted to do with me.

He had me completely at his mercy. He could do anything. He could hurt me or even kill me.

Did I make a big mistake by trusting him?

He walked the rest of the way behind me again and stopped. I turned my head, but I stopped myself in time before I actually looked over my shoulder to see what he was doing.

I faced front expecting him to just stand there or maybe snap a few more commands at me.

Out of nowhere, he grabbed my hips, squeezed hard in a crushing grip, and pulled my ass back toward him once before he let go.

He slid his hands up my back, grabbed me around the ribs without actually touching my breasts, and then raked his fingertips down my sides to my waist.

He made a few small noises of appreciation like he might really have to work hard to hold himself back.

He circled my waist with both hands, and before I even knew what was happening, he grabbed me from behind in both arms.

His hands ranged all over me and he dove his hot, panting mouth in my neck. He buried his face in my hair and growled low in husky, animal snarls.

That sound set my nerves on fire. He sank his teeth into the side of my neck and a  lightning bolt of power coursed over my skin.

I gasped and then started panting hard in rising anticipation. The tension spiked off the charts and my swollen pussy lips unfurled to gush an ooze of wetness into my panties. Was he going to take me right here?

He said he wouldn’t. He said no penetration—but he could break that rule if he wanted to. He had me tied up. He could do whatever he wanted.

He grabbed two handfuls of my body across my abdomen, raked his fingertips up the front of my thighs, and then seized my hips to yank my ass back against him.

He dug his pelvis into me from behind—and that’s when I felt how raging hard he was.

He didn’t try to hide it. He plowed his bulge into my ass, moved his hands behind me, raked his fingertips up the backs of my thighs, and grabbed two fistfuls of my ass cheeks.

He pulled them up and apart. He practically lifted me off the ground so I hung by my wrists.

He drove his prick right up between my ass cheeks in such an obvious fucking motion that he blasted me out of my mind. I really hoped he did fuck me right now.

He eased me down and stroked up my sides again, but this time, he planted one hand on my back between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward. I had to bend over while he pulled me back against his crotch by one hip.

“Is this what you want?” he growled under his breath. “Is this the way you want me to handle you?”

I gasped again. I could only speak above a breathless whisper. “Yes!”

Thank the stars he couldn’t see my face. I couldn’t think straight from the heat building between my legs.

I almost had another uncontrollable moment of actually breaking down and begging him to fuck me. Holy shit, I wanted him so bad!

“You want me to pull your panties off and bury my cock in your wet pussy, don’t you?” he growled. “You want me to make you scream and beg for it all night. You want me to keep you tied up here for hours and do whatever I want to you while you cum for me a hundred times. Say it.”

“Yes!” I practically screamed.

He grabbed me again, buried his torturous hot mouth against my ear, and used both arms to hold me down while he drilled his prick into my ass.

“I’m gonna take you,” he rasped. “I’m gonna use your body until you don’t know anything but me. I’m gonna make you scream until you can’t see straight. I’m gonna make you beg me to own you, body and soul.”

I really did scream—in desperation. God, I really wished he would.

Even in that moment, I already knew he wouldn’t—not now. If he meant it at all, he meant later—a long time later.

He let me go completely and left me hanging there whimpering in desperate misery. God, I needed him so bad right now!

How the hell was I supposed to walk out of here without him penetrating me—with something? I would take anything—his fingers, an object—anything.

He stopped in front of me, placed both hands on my hips, pulled me toward him, and slotted his knee between my thighs.

I screamed again when he pulled me down hard on top of his leg.

I almost collapsed when that pressure crushed against my sensitive pussy and rubbed me back and forth.

“Look at me!” he snapped.

I looked up and almost lost consciousness when he pulled me forward to grind on his thigh.

“Ride my leg,” he told me. “Make yourself cum—but keep your eyes on me the whole time. I want to see you cum.”

He let go of my hip. I moaned and then actually did scream when I tried to move my crotch along his thigh, but the power became so intense that I had to stop and look away.

“I can’t….” I gasped.

“Don’t tell me you can’t!” He seized me by the hair on the back of my head and forced my head up so I had no choice but to face him. “I said look at me!”

I dragged my eyes open with an almighty effort.

He stared at me from inches away—and I couldn’t break that stare. His eyes held me in an unshakable hold.

“You agreed to do what I tell you,” he snapped. “You said you wanted a man who knew what to do with you. Is that what you want—to walk out of here and go back to all the guys who don’t know what they’re doing? Is that really what you want?”

“No…..” I whimpered. I really wanted to cry.

“Then do it,” he snapped. “You do what I say or you use your safe word and walk away. You said you wanted someone who knew what to do with you. I know what to do with you better than you do. Now come on. Ride my leg like I told you to—and you keep your eyes open so I can see you. Come on. Show me how much you want this.”

My mind went into a confused rollercoaster of a thousand emotions, sensations, desires, and fears all jumbled into one chaotic mass.

I tried in every way to force my body to do what he said, but something froze me in place.

His eyes burned down into my very soul. I had never looked at him this close before—close enough to kiss me.

He would never kiss me. God, I would have given anything to have that with him, but he would never go there. He would never cross that line. He was too principled for that.

He didn’t even feel that way about me. I knew that now. He only did this to help me—the way I asked him to.

I grimaced and started to whine on the verge of tears—or was I on the verge of another catastrophic orgasm? I couldn’t even identify what I was feeling right now.

At that moment, he put his other hand behind my back, flattened it right on top of my tailbone, and pulled me forward in a slow, sensual rocking motion exactly like he really was fucking me deep, slow, and hard.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Come on. That’s right. Do you want me? Huh? Is this what you want? Do you want me to fuck you like this?”

“Yes!” I practically shrieked. I could have cried that he actually made me admit that to his face.

He still held me with his fist clenched in my hair, but I couldn’t look away from him if my life depended on it.

That movement sent an unstoppable wave of searing heat through me. All my buried desires exploded off the charts. I couldn’t stop the cataclysm from taking me over.

“You feel me fucking you right now, don’t you—just like this?” He pulled me down on his leg and flexed his hips just as if he really was fucking me. “You feel that, don’t you? Do you feel me inside you? Come on. Come on. Give me that.”

I screamed as a vicious spike of pure fire rocketed through me. I couldn’t hold it back.

“I need you!” I shrieked. “I need you, Ash!”

“I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. Now come on. Come to me. You know you want this.”

Right at that moment, he slid his hand down to my ass, grabbed a big handful, and crushed it in his grip.

He used my ass to pull me down harder on his leg and my own torturous need went off like a bomb tearing my body apart.

That blast of energy took hold. He didn’t have to move me anymore.

I smashed myself down on his leg riding him hard and fast. I screamed again and again bucking, grinding, and rubbing myself into another world-crushing orgasm.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face. I heard him yelling at me to come on and give it to him, to show him how much I wanted him, and to feel him inside me taking me and owning me.

My eyes drifted out of focus. I couldn’t see him anymore before I dissolved in a mass of convulsions still grinding on his leg with all my strength. I couldn’t stop.

He released my wrists somewhere in all that screaming. I couldn’t keep track of what was happening or where anything was. I folded onto his chest—and then my knees gave out.

I didn’t realize until too late that he must have let go of me. I buckled and hit the floor.

I huddled there twitching and spasming trying in every way to come back to Earth, but the tempest still raged in my mind as much as my body.

Ash stood over me doing something. I couldn’t even lift my head to look at him. I could only see the legs of his pants up to his thighs.

Did he think I didn’t obey him well enough because I couldn’t do as he told me? Was he standing there about to tell me I wasn’t good enough to be a submissive?

I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t bring myself even to look up at him to find out if he was disappointed in me.

I couldn’t handle it if he was disappointed in me. I wanted more than anything to do what he said. Anything would be better than walking away—from all of this.

I didn’t know what this was. I might never be able to understand it, but I had to keep doing it. I couldn’t stop—not now when I was up to my neck in it.

The hurricane of emotions drove me to the breaking point. I needed some shelter—and I had no other shelter besides him.

I needed him more than he knew—more than I knew. I teetered on the brink of collapsing for real. I would fall apart if I didn’t do something.

In my last act of hopeless desperation, I dragged myself a few inches across the floor and wrapped my arms around his knees. I couldn’t ask him for more than that.

I clung to him—the only part of him I dared to touch. I might not even be worthy to hold onto his legs like this, but I had to hold onto something—some part of him to anchor me in this madness.

He didn’t kick me away or shake me off or tell me to stop. He just stood there and let me hold him.

He was always the one who held me before. He wouldn’t let me hold him like that—not until he did it first.

The raw emotional need to be near him—to take shelter from all of this turmoil—it welled up into a surge of misery and torturous need. I needed so much more from him.

There was no bottom to this dark pit of aching need—the need only he could fulfill.

I couldn’t face letting go of him—not now when he reduced me to this wreck of emotions.

Just then, he lowered his hand on top of my head and rubbed his fingertips into my scalp through my hair. He didn’t say a word. He just combed his fingers through my hair a few times.

That one act—that one small sign of his approval—it meant more than a thousand declarations of love from every other guy I had ever known.

I just wanted to be good enough for him. I could never hope to be his submissive—whatever that meant. I didn’t let myself think about what it meant.

I never would have let go of him—not ever—but he had other plans. He bent over, pulled me off his legs, and scooped me up in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, put my head down on his shoulder, and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to know where he was taking me or what he planned to do with me.

I didn’t care as long as I was still with him.

His movements changed. I opened my eyes just enough to see him walking up some stairs in a different part of his apartment. I didn’t see this before.

He carried me upstairs and into a bedroom. I hung onto his neck while he took one hand away from my back to turn on the lamp and pull down the sheets. The room looked like a hotel, but it was still in his apartment.

He laid me down on the bed, pulled the covers over me, kissed me on the head, and stroked his hand once down the side of my hair.

He left me lying there while he went around the room doing something.

He came back with an armchair from the other side of the room, put it next to the bed, kissed me once more, and whispered, “Go to sleep, baby. Shut your eyes and go to sleep.”

Those words worked their spell on me. I was getting so used to obeying him that my eyes shut automatically without me even trying.

I must have blacked out immediately because I woke up hours later. The lamp was still on.

Ash sat on the armchair by the bed doing something on his phone in one hand and holding a piece of paper in the other.

He was in the act of looking back and forth between them when I opened my eyes.

I didn’t move. I just stared at him for a long time.

He was such an amazing guy—and yet I didn’t understand one percent of what he was.. He was too fine even for me to comprehend what he was.

I could study him for the rest of eternity and never find out all the dimensions of him—especially since he didn’t want me to.

He kept switching between his phone, the paper in his hand, and another stack of papers balanced on his knee. He frowned at them—and then noticed me watching him.

He raised his head and studied me from his chair. His eyes didn’t go hard.

They didn’t go soft, either. He scrutinized me with some question hanging over his head.

I couldn’t look away from those eyes—the eyes that commanded my soul to respond to him.

He made me show him how much I wanted him. He knew now—in case he didn’t already know.

He was right. He knew how to handle me better than I did. He knew everything better than I did.

He didn’t want me lying here awake watching him work. He wanted me to sleep.

He was sitting in that chair to watch over me while I slept—so I could recover from our session.

I had to obey him in that, too. My eyes drifted closed and I didn’t wake up again.

End of Chapter 5.