The Submission Challenge

Doms and Acquaintances

The Submission Challenge When independent Rebecca derides her best friend’s brother for being a Dominant, he scoffs. She could never understand the lifestyle, but Jon challenges her to be his submissive for twentyfour hours anyway, demanding all that being a submissive entails. Not one to back down from a challenge, Rebecca agrees, determined to show him she can be submissive yet remain emotionally detached. During the challenge, Jon works all his Dom tricks to try to make her lose, including insisting she be naked constantly, touching her intimately, and using various BDSM techniques, like bondage. Some tricks Rebecca finds harder to accept than others, but as the weekend continues, they realize they are attracted to each other. But just as Rebecca comes to enjoy giving control to someone else, Jon learns to enjoy having someone who doesn't submit easily. But things aren't that simple. Genre: BDSM, Contemporary Length: 23,129 words

THE SUBMISSION CHALLENGE Doms and Acquaintances

Jennifer Denys

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

THE SUBMISSION CHALLENGE Copyright © 2011 by Jennifer Denys E-book ISBN: 1-61034-968-7 First E-book Publication: November 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of The Submission Challenge by Jennifer Denys from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Jennifer Denys’ livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Denys’ right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To all my friends and family who know me as a confident, selfassured, even controlling, person who will be surprised to know that actually, like Rebecca, I can be very submissive when I want to be.

RULES OF SUBMISSION In the Dominance/submissive—D/s—lifestyle, the submissive or sub gives the Dominant or Dom control over them and trusts them to be responsible with that control. This can be total control, even down to when and what they eat, or it can be limited to the bedroom. The Dom may use various BDSM techniques such as bondage in order to push the sub’s sexual boundaries. To this end, the Dom has to use that responsibility carefully to avoid hurting their sub in any way. The Dom and sub must agree to a set of limits that both are happy with, and a safe word that the sub can use if those limits are breached, even if unintentionally. In return, the Dom demands respect, honesty, and obedience—particularly the latter, as this may affect the safety of the sub. It is all about being safe, sane, and consensual.

THE SUBMISSION CHALLENGE Doms and Acquaintances 1 JENNIFER DENYS Copyright © 2011

Chapter One A woman lay bent over a tall stool, her backside facing the audience. She was naked except for a pair of incredibly high heels. Her ankles and wrists were bound to all four legs of the stool by furlined handcuffs. A fully clothed man dressed in black leather stood to one side, breathing heavily as he wielded a whip against the woman’s buttocks again and again. Red stripes began to crisscross her backside and thighs. The woman screamed as if in terrible pain as the whip made contact with her hot skin. The man stopped momentarily, laid a hand on her back, and asked huskily, “Do you want to say your safe word?” “God, no! Please don’t stop.” And the man continued his delicious torture to the delight of most of those watching. **** But Rebecca wasn’t one of them. She watched the scene taking place on the stage with loathing. She was in a club called Domini’s.

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Despite its innocuous name, it was known for its extreme sexual activities. Crossing her arms in exasperation, Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked up at her companion who towered over her, as did most people. Despite being petite, she was very strong-willed. “For God’s sake, Ellie, why did we have to come here of all places? You know I hate this sort of stuff.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd cheering the man to whip the woman further. Ellie shrugged a shoulder and turned to grin at Rebecca. She leaned her head forward to avoid shouting her reply. “Well, I know that my brother Jon comes here, and I’ve always wanted to see what happens in this venue.” “He would do that,” she retorted. “This is just the sort of vile, domineering activity that he would practice.” Turning away from the disgusting scene in front of her, she bumped straight into a tall, wellmuscled man standing directly behind her who didn’t move an inch when she hit him. She emitted a grunt and looked up to see who was standing in her way, ready to tell the idiot who had the temerity to stand so close exactly what she thought of him. “I was about to ask you two what you were doing here, but I can see you were slagging me off again.” His smooth, deep voice easily penetrated the noise. Rebecca groaned in frustration and gritted her teeth. This was the one person she didn’t want to bump into, particularly in this establishment—Ellie’s brother. She and Jon didn’t get on. She had met Ellie nearly ten years ago at university, both of them studying art history. So she had known Jon for several years, and every time they met, they clashed—usually about their respective lifestyles. While both were successful in their careers, commanding great respect from their colleagues, he hated the fact that she was perfectly happy to live by herself, only dating intermittently, and to be in total control of her life. Meanwhile, she

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scorned him for controlling every aspect of his current partner’s life, which appeared to be from what she wore to what went on in bed. “Hey, bro,” cried Ellie, as she noticed her older sibling. Not that he was older than her by much, but his dominant personality always made him seem several years older than his sister. It wasn’t just his girlfriends that he controlled, as he had a tendency to tell everyone around him, well, women mostly, what they should be doing. But Rebecca knew Ellie had developed methods to get around her brother, usually pretending to obey him and doing something entirely different! Despite that, she knew Ellie was very fond of Jon. They shared the same sense of humour, driving their parents mad with their antics, such as the time when they were in their teens and replaced the traditional Christmas decorations with lewd ones. “So, what are you doing here?” he repeated. Jon looked like he was bemused to see Rebecca there. However, she knew he would not like to see his kid sister in a place like this, even if she was a grown woman who partnered Rebecca in their own art gallery business. “Just checking the joint out. Seeing what happens here,” Ellie replied, waving a hand airily around as she grinned at him with pleasure. “I know you’re relieving your curiosity, despite the fact that I told you never to come here. But why on earth is Rebecca with you?” he asked, raising a brow at his nemesis. The sardonic look on his face made him look even more handsome, if annoying, than normal. She tried to edge away from him, uncomfortable with his presence, even more so than usual, but didn’t have much success as there wasn’t much space. It was a popular club, and Saturday evenings were clearly the busiest time. “Ellie dragged me here. I didn’t realize it was this type of place until we got inside,” Rebecca responded haughtily. “This type of place? And what exactly do you mean by that?” Jon loomed over her, his anger beginning to rise.

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She pushed on his chest. She wasn’t about to be intimidated by him, despite his superior height and his domineering behaviour. “You know perfectly well what I mean. The sort of place only someone like you would frequent.” The “you” was said in a tone of utter disgust. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He clenched his hands. He looked as if he was itching to drag her over his knee and administer a spanking or two. In fact, she often felt she gave him the urge to do just that. Thankfully, he had never given into that impulse. Rebecca tried to placate him. “Look, Jon, I know you are in to this lifestyle, but as I’ve said before, it totally demeans the female sex. We women have worked long and hard to get our independence, too much to let a man control us this way.” “Oh.” He chuckled, although his humour didn’t reach his eyes, which narrowed as he responded. “Then why do you suppose the women here—all except you, of course—choose this lifestyle? Remember, these women”—he gestured around him—“are here out of choice. Answer me that one, miss smarty-pants.” “I don’t know. I suppose because they are, ‘weak’ isn’t the right word, more quiet and reserved people, I guess. Ones who are easily controlled by others who would take advantage of their submissive— no, not submissive, gentler—nature and…and…” She paused in the middle of her soapbox, a hand gesturing toward the stage to illustrate her point. “And push them into doing demeaning things.” He shook his head in resignation at her uncompromising attitude. “You have no idea what being submissive means. There are some submissives that have high-powered jobs like, in fact, the woman on stage at this moment, and they take great enjoyment in being dominated by a man sexually.” She gasped, astonished by his statement, her eyes drawn to the woman being whipped. “Well, more fool those women!” He finally gave up, raising his hands in surrender. “There is no way in a million years that you could be soft and submissive and let a

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man look after you, care for you, and spoil you, so I’m not even going to try to make you understand.” Stung by his comment, Rebecca retorted pertly as she crossed her arms. “I can be submissive if I want to. I just don’t want to.” Jon laughed scathingly, his voice harsh with disbelief, his hands on his hips. “No way you could. It isn’t in you. You’d never be able to give over control to someone else, nor keep your smart opinions to yourself!” “If the right motivation was there, I could, but I don’t see anything that would be the right motivation.” He paused as if considering a thought, looking closely at both women. Rebecca stared back, confused by his change in demeanor, his body exuding anticipation instead of anger. He briefly glanced again at the woman on stage and then smiled wickedly, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief. She shivered at his expression, partly because it aroused her and partly because it was such a sudden change in attitude that it worried her. She raised her eyebrows at Ellie, but the latter just frowned and shrugged. Rebecca then looked back at Jon, who had crossed his arms, demanding her attention. “I challenge you to be submissive for, say, twenty-four hours. In fact, I challenge you to be my submissive for twenty-four hours, and if you manage it, I will donate money, say five hundred—no let’s make it a thousand—to your favorite charity. If you fail, you donate to mine.” Rebecca stood stunned for a moment, staring at him as he mocked her, and then narrowed her eyes. She was a typical Taurus and could never turn down a challenge, particularly one issued by Jon, and this one was definitely a red flag to her bull. Without a thought of what the challenge would involve, she held out her hand. “You’re on!” Jon looked derisively at her hand. “A submissive doesn’t take the initiative and offer her hand.”

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She gritted her teeth. “We haven’t begun yet.” Then she frowned and stated, “But we do need to set terms and conditions before we start.” She wanted to be in charge of this insane challenge that she was starting to regret having taken. “I’ll give you that one. Say Monday, 1:00 p.m. in my office?” “Done.” She turned to Ellie. “Now can we get out of this dreadful place?” She proceeded to lead the way out of the venue, very quickly indeed. **** Ellie stood there looking stunned in helpless astonishment with her jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you two have just agreed that. You took advantage of Becks. You know perfectly well she’ll never win, even if she goes through with this, which she won’t. And you know it!” Ellie shouted at her brother. He just stood there and grinned arrogantly at her like he normally did when he won one of their contests. With a growl, she turned on a heel and stormed after her friend. Jon grinned over his shoulder after the departing women. Oh, he was so going to enjoy this. Not that he thought Rebecca would go through with the challenge, but he would enjoy her squirming when she told him it was off. He laughed to himself. Despite the differences in their lifestyles, he knew her pretty well. He had played her masterfully, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge, and she fell for it beautifully. Knowing that when she had a chance to calm down and consider what would be involved, she would recognize her folly. He chuckled, imagining how irritated she would be that he had tricked her into this, her deep blue eyes flashing with ire, and wondered how long it would be before she contacted him. He would give her twelve hours.

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The couple giving the performance finished to great applause. As they left, a group started to prepare the next scene, securing a woman into a harness in readiness for a man waiting at the side of the stage. Jon fantasized it was him and Rebecca and he had her lovely, naked body writhing in his hands. It wasn’t the first time he had pictured such a scene with her, but then he shook his head ruefully. As if she’d ever do anything like that, let alone with him, and that brought him back to the challenge he had issued. He pondered thoughtfully, not really taking in the activity on the stage. He knew Rebecca was very competitive, so she would consider every angle first. He laughed to himself, remembering a previous competition between them involving beach volleyball with a watermelon, which, to her annoyance, he had won when it had broken all over Rebecca. She may actually go ahead with this challenge just to get her own back. Now that would be very interesting. His mind went into overdrive as he imagined her having to submit to him, possibly tied facedown on a spanking bench or up against a St. Andrew’s Cross. The thought of seeing Rebecca naked gave him an erection. She might not be his usual submissive type, but she certainly was gorgeous, with long, straight, black hair that fell in a glorious cascade down her back. Her eyes were a stunning almond shape, and her legs were perfect, despite her pixie size. The rest he had yet to see! He grinned. Who knew, he may yet see the rest.

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Chapter Two Rebecca stood outside Jon’s office building, taking a few deep, calming breaths before she entered, clutching her handbag tightly. In the two days since she had taken the challenge, she had bitterly regretted it. She knew she had played into his hands as soon as she had left the club, but wasn’t about to give him the pleasure of backing out, apart from the fact that there was potential money involved for her charity. Despite that, she had found herself reaching for the phone many times since that night before pulling her hand back sharply each time when she pictured Jon’s smug face. But could she really go through with this now she was here? With shaky legs, she climbed the steps to the front door of a tower block which housed several firms, including Jon’s law firm. Ten minutes later, she was led into Jon’s office by his youthful secretary who wore far too short a skirt, she decided with disgust, putting it all down to Jon’s appalling taste in women. Typically, Rebecca wore a power suit—tailored, black trouser suit, crisp white blouse buttoned to the neck, and low-heeled black pumps. In fact, she rarely wore a dress or skirt, and for those rare times, it was calf-length or to the ground. Jon waited until his secretary left the room and waved a hand at a chair in front of him, silently inviting her to sit. Nonchalantly strolling over to the chair, she sat down confidently, crossing her legs calmly, like she was controlling an important meeting. She was amazed at herself and decided it was something to do with confronting Jon and wanting to appear strong and capable in

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front of him. When she glanced at his face, she noticed his amused expression. He leaned back in his chair, tapping the arms with his fingers. “I was surprised not to hear from you before this.” “Oh. Why would that be? We agreed 1:00 p.m. today, didn’t we?” she queried, knowing he was digging to find out if she had had misgivings. “So you’ve decided to go through with it, then?” “Of course.” She leaned forward slightly, resting a hand on the arm of her chair, as if about to rise. “But if you’re having second thoughts and want to back out, I can tell you the name of my chosen charity,” she ended with a triumphant smile. He grinned at her attempt to out-bluff him. “Not a chance. I am going to love dominating you, my sweet.” “Urrgh! ‘My sweet’—is that your best endearment?” He grimaced at her criticism. She knew she got under his skin with her comments and was glad because he had all the advantage with this challenge. “So to set the terms—we agreed twenty-four hours. Shall we say noon this Saturday to noon on Sunday?” he suggested, trying to get the upper hand again. “That’s acceptable.” She was amazed her voice sounded so strong, since she was quaking inside at the thought of doing this so soon. She wanted to put it off for a few weeks or months—preferably years, and Jon might have forgotten about it then. She may have appeared strong, confident, and controlling on the outside normally, but she was actually quite shy underneath it all. Her air of confidence was a barrier to hide it. Thankfully Jon didn’t realize the extent of her shyness. His domineering behaviour usually got her back up and brought out the vixen in her. Ellie always laughed at them. On more than one occasion, she had accused Rebecca of making comments just to get Jon’s attention, and that was just not true, she tried to convince

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herself. But there were times when he touched her it caused a shiver of desire to shoot though her. Even an innocent brush of his fingers when passing something to her could cause such a reaction. “The venue will be my place.” “What-t!” She was startled out of her musings. “It can hardly be at your home, as I am the Dom and you would be in your comfort zone, and I don’t suggest somewhere neutral like a hotel.” He smiled. “I’d worry what the hotel staff would think of your screams.” Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly do you think you’re going to be doing that will warrant me screaming?” “Well, now. That’s why we’re here—what we need to discuss. The first rule of a Dominant/submissive partnership is that it has to be safe, sane, and consensual—the latter being particularly important, as we aren’t in a normal D/s relationship. Therefore it is very important you agree now to whatever we are going to do over the weekend. Are you okay with that?” “It sounds fine to me,” Rebecca stated reluctantly. It sounded very sensible so far, and it perplexed her. Surely people like the woman being whipped at the club didn’t allow, or even worse, desire, someone to do that to them? On the other hand, that woman had been begging the man to whip her, which was the least sane thing Rebecca could think of. This confused the hell out of her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “So what did you have in mind?” Jon grinned in such a way she was worried what was coming. “Plenty of fucking, naturally.” Her heart lurched, but she remained still, although her hands gripped her bag like a lifeline. She had been expecting something of this sort and wasn’t going to give him satisfaction by reacting. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything about her flushed cheeks. “No,” she stated, quietly but firmly. He frowned as if he had been expecting a more violent reaction. “It wouldn’t be a D/s relationship without sex.”

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“Not so. I’ve read up a bit on the topic, and many D/s couples just indulge in activities outside the bedroom.” He chuckled. “My, my, so you’ve read some things. I hope it aroused your interest—or even just plain aroused you.” He leered and she briefly turned her face away. He then continued more seriously, “I’ll grant you that some couples indulge in activities that don’t involve full sex, but many of those activities involve sexual activity of some sort. The whole purpose is to push intimate or sexual boundaries with non-vanilla activities.” “You are not putting your, your…yourself inside me,” she finished on a whisper, unable to say a certain word. Grinning at her embarrassment, he said, “Okay, I’ll give up putting my cock inside you, but you have to agree that I can use other things like fingers, tongue, or even sex toys instead. Otherwise, it’s pointless continuing this challenge.” He gestured his hand as he spoke, indicating she accept it or end it now. She sat there hesitantly, biting her bottom lip, her hands frozen in their grip on her bag. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Could she actually go through with this? If not, he would be unbelievably insufferable— probably for the rest of their lives. But what would it mean if she did it? It was a certainty that she would have to be naked in front of him. He would be touching her intimately—she felt herself blushing even more as she thought of this—and she would have to do whatever he said. She didn’t know what was worse, the thought of submitting to him without argument or him touching her. Probably the latter if she was honest because he might realize the extent to which she was attracted to him. As she was quiet so long, he frowned, then asked softly, “Are you backing out?” She sighed. “No.” “Then?” “All right. I agree to your condition.”

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He smiled triumphantly. Rebecca also smiled, if tremulously. She was glad she had got that one out of the way. She couldn’t have gone through with the challenge if he wanted full sex. If she could think of the money her charity would get, she felt sure she could cope with his other demands, not to mention proving to him she could do this. She could, she tried to convince herself somewhat unsuccessfully. Jon continued, “A typical submissive has to agree to all the demands of her Dom, so for the twenty-four hours, you will do everything I ask of you.” Startled, she sat up straight. “That’s not fair, you could murder me and it would be consensual!” “Okay, you can have a safe word, but if you use it, you lose the challenge. However…” He held up a hand, forestalling the angry query she started to yell. “I will give you three get-out-of-jail-free cards, as it were.” She subsided, perplexed. “We’ll use the traffic light system often used for new subs, green for ‘go,’ orange for ‘not sure—want a moment to get used to it,’ and red for ‘absolutely not.’ The red counts as your ultimate safe word and you’ll lose the challenge if you use it, but I will allow you to use the orange three times. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop what I’m doing, but I will hold off for a moment. It will also let me know you are not as comfortable with whatever I am doing as you could be and give you a moment to calm down. How does that sound?” She mused, somewhat mollified. “I’ll go with that. Sounds fair. Thank you,” she added with a frown, aware that he didn’t have to do that. It worked to her benefit, and she couldn’t work out why he did that. “In return, I want you to arrive wearing no panties.” Rebecca flushed at this command and momentarily turned her face away from his direct stare, tilting her head in acceptance. “Is that it?” she asked tersely.

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Jon nodded. “I’m not worried about setting any more demands at this stage, as you’ll learn more about what it means to be submissive when you arrive. I’ve enjoyed teaching several newbies in the past, the exception being they all wanted to be submissive, unlike you. That is going to be a challenge in itself.” He grinned. She scowled at his arrogant assumption that his teaching methods were going to work with her. “I have a few demands of my own.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her bag and began to read it. “No blood play, no piercings, no scat or water play—I’ve still no idea what scat is—no asphyxiation games, no whipping, no wax play, no bondage,” she finished quickly. Jon burst out laughing. “You have been reading up, haven’t you! Don’t worry, I have no intention of doing most of that—particularly scat! However, bondage stays, I’m afraid. That is a major part of BDSM and, as such, common in every D/s life.” She nodded. She didn’t expect to get away with that one but threw it in hopefully. He looked at his watch. “As much as I am enjoying this encounter, I’ve an important meeting with a client coming up and can’t spare any more time. So if that’s it, I’ll see you on Saturday.” Sitting still for a second, she reached a moment of comprehension. They were no longer discussing things abstractly but had signed on the dotted line, as it were. She stood up, her legs a little more shaky than when she had arrived, and started to leave. “Don’t forget—no panties,” he called after her as she reached the door. She glared at him over her shoulder as she swiftly departed and then gritted her teeth as she heard chuckling after her. As she left the building, Rebecca’s sense of oh my God, what have I got myself into increased tenfold. Well, it was too late now. She was committed. She would just have to show Jon how independent women could be and still be soft, sexy, and alluring. She was determined to control the situation by appearing to be submissive but all the while holding back and taking whatever he threw at her with fortitude.

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If he thought he would get under her skin, he could think again. She refused to accept the fact that he had already got under her skin, and not for the first time.

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Chapter Three Rebecca glanced at the clock in her car as she sat fighting a losing battle to hold onto her fast-disappearing courage. It had been a hard slog all week to gather it. She could do this, she told herself. It was all for charity, after all. Well, a big part of it was she didn’t want Jon getting the upper hand! She decided the best way to cope was to actually be nice to him for a change. It wasn’t that she wanted to be nice, but rather thought her first step to being submissive was to be polite. It was part of her strategic plan to avoid confrontation and get through the weekend. It was two minutes to midday. She knew she had better get out now, or she would be in danger of losing this challenge before it had started. **** She quickly vacated her car and walked swiftly toward the house. As she raised a hand to knock on the door, she appeared slightly startled when Jon suddenly opened it. He made a point of looking at his watch. She grimaced at his silent retribution. He had been watching her out of the window for the past ten minutes, wondering how long it would be before she made a move— to enter the house or run away. He was a little amazed she had decided to enter. Gesturing her in, he glanced down at her clothes. She was wearing jeans and a blouse. He smiled knowingly. She was probably pantyless underneath, but by wearing jeans, it was pointless asking her not

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to wear panties—round one to Rebecca. That was the only one he was going to allow her. She stood just inside the doorway looking around the hallway. He knew she would be surprised at how elegant it was. Despite knowing him for a number of years, she had never visited his home before. “Nice place you have.” “Be thankful I haven’t started your sub lessons yet, or you would have lost the challenge.” “What did I do?” she retorted, swinging around to look at him. Her pride appeared to be stung. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood in front of her, tall and implacable. He saw her resisting her usual urge to step back when he did that and smiled inwardly. “The first rule I am going to give you is that you must never take the initiative in anything, including conversation, but ask permission to speak. You’re a submissive, remember,” he gloated. Rebecca went to respond but snapped her mouth shut as he tilted his head, awaiting her retort. He watched her wrestle with her anger for a moment, and then she smiled sweetly, if slightly sarcastically, at him instead. “Very good. I like a girl who learns her lessons well.” She glared at him. He knew she hated being called a girl. She had told him before she found it patronising. As she awaited his next instruction, her hand clutched tightly to her bag. He didn’t know if she did that because of nerves or irritation. Ordinarily it would be the latter, but her lovely face seemed rather pale. “Let me remind you your safe word is ‘red’ and that finishes the challenge. You can use up to three oranges only to halt a scene momentarily. Is that clear?” She nodded confidently, clearly remembering this most vital part of their agreement. “Then you can leave your bag there and follow me.”

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Swallowing nervously, she complied somewhat reluctantly, leaving the bag by the front door. Jon led her into the kitchen where a meal was laid out. “I hope you haven’t had anything to eat because I’ve made lunch.” “No, I hav…permission to speak?” He smirked. She had nearly forgotten, but he nodded his agreement. “Lunch would be lovely,” she said, retreating into her good manners. “Actually, it’s very nice of you. I hadn’t given a thought to lunch before I left, and I’m actually quite hungry. Thank you.” “Thank you—Master or Sir. That is your second lesson. You must respect your Dominant by calling him ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’ at all times.” Her jaw dropped, and then she glared at him, her lips thinning with annoyance at the sardonic rise of his brow. He stifled his laugh. He would wager another thousand that she was saying you’ve got to be kidding to herself. “And glaring at your Dom or looking him in the eye can also be taken as disrespectful.” He paused, thinking how best to explain it. “Think of wolves or other similar pack animals, unless you are going to challenge the alpha male, you keep your head down, eyes lowered.” He knew from her annoyed expression that scuppered a plan forming in her head to indicate her disgust through looks if not vocally. She responded by glancing away toward the lunch instead, avoiding looking him directly in the eye as commanded but still keeping her chin high. Guessing her internal struggle, he knew there was no way she was going to look down submissively. He chuckled and went to sit down. Rebecca moved to follow, and then stopped short, staring at the single table setting and frowned. “Permission to speak—where exactly am I supposed to sit?” she asked brusquely, without waiting for said permission.

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Letting her get away with that one, he socked it to her with his next statement. “Among many D/s couples, it is expected that the sub would sit at her Master’s feet to show who is in control.” She gasped loudly. He knew this was her worst nightmare. If he hadn’t stunned her into immobility, he bet she would have turned on her heels and fled, the challenge surrendered. “Stop starring daggers at me.” He chuckled. “I have no intention of asking you to do that. Believe it or not, I’ve never taken my relationships that far. I don’t want a slave, just a submissive.” She appeared unsure of what he did expect of her and so shrugged. They clashed frequently about his lifestyle, but she didn’t know the details of what he did always presuming what he did was demeaning or salacious. “Another common aspect as regards eating rituals is that the Dom will feed his sub, which is why there is only one place setting in this instance. The Dom has to show responsibility for his sub, and that can include feeding her.” He glanced at her frowning face. “I can see you have burning questions, so fire away.” Raising a hand to push her hair off her face distractedly, she tried to understand what he was saying. “I am a little confused. How can only having one place setting show me that you will feed me? In fact, it suggests quite the opposite.” “Ah, but you are not thinking like a sub,” he answered. She crossed her arms in response, not appreciating that her defensive posture was confrontational. Jon smiled when he noticed it. He hadn’t been expecting immediate submission from her, and he wasn’t getting it. He continued, “When I said a Dom will feed his sub, I meant it literally— from his fingers. That increases the sensuality of the relationship at the same time as filling her stomach.”

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As he finished his statement, he held a hand out to her and patted his lap with the other. “So to that end, you will sit here and I will feed you.” Rebecca froze on the spot, her face tightening in anger. He knew she’d hate the thought of sitting on his lap and being fed like a child when he thought this up. Would she balk at this and give over the challenge? She tried to calm her rapid breathing as she seemed to be attempting to convince herself to go through with it. Stepping forward, she ignored his hand and sat down gingerly on his lap, her right hand going around the back of the chair to steady herself, and at the same time avoid touching his broad shoulders. “Excellent.” Amazed that she was actually continuing, he took a moment to grasp her round the waist to settle her more comfortably on his lap. She was sitting on the edge her feet firmly on the floor in readiness for flight. Yelping as she suddenly shifted backward, his hand steadied her back as her feet left the floor—that was the disadvantage of being so short. As she grimaced and appeared vulnerable, his hand caressed her lower back soothingly. Any other time, she would have told him in no uncertain terms exactly what he could do with his hand. There were some advantages to having a silent submissive, he thought, as he enjoyed the feel of her body under his hand—a body that trembled slightly beneath his ministrations. “Now have some of this.” He speared some salmon with his fork and held it to her lips. She resisted, jerking her head away. He sighed. “Are you still being difficult? I am noting these transgressions, and they will be punished later,” he warned, reveling in his Dom behaviour as he got his own back for all the times she had confronted him in the past. He wouldn’t normally be this strict with a new sub.

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Taking the fish reluctantly, she quickly chewed it with distaste and swallowed with a grimace. “Presuming I still have permission to speak freely, I was reluctant to eat it because I don’t actually like fish.” Jon was unusually sheepish. “Ah, that is where the Dom will learn his sub’s likes and dislikes over time and accommodate them. I should have asked you beforehand if there is anything you don’t like to eat. I apologize.” He noticed her surprise, and as she stared at him in astonishment, he continued, “It is perfectly acceptable for a Master to apologize if he is in the wrong. It works both ways—the Dom has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders because the sub puts their total trust in him. It’s particularly important if the sub is unable to talk for any reason, like activities involving any gagging.” “Yes, I can see that. And in answer to your question, I am fine to eat anything else on the table. Thank you for asking—Sir,” she added as an afterthought. “About time, too.” He chuckled, responding to her belated honorific. If she didn’t bolt in the next few hours, he was going to enjoy the weekend. Her attempts to avoid her usual smart comebacks caused him great amusement, and as for her trying to be submissive, he was ready to burst out laughing. Then, of course, there was the fact that the beautiful woman who had haunted his erotic dreams for years was finally under his control. Putting his humour—and desire—aside for now, he then proceeded to feed them both. **** Rebecca found it hard to let someone else feed her. She kept wanting to reach for the fork but instead kept a hand clenched in a fist on her thigh. However, gradually she relaxed on his lap, enjoying the

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feel of his muscled thighs beneath her legs, an arm around her waist holding her firmly. Later, he seemed to relish her reaction when he fed her some juicy peach slices directly from his fingers. She struggled to eat them without touching him but failed. She wondered if he found it as erotic as she did when he touched her lips, her tongue touching his fingers. “Lick the juice from them. Come on. You’re glaring at me again.” He smiled, amused. “Of course, Master. I delight in licking your fingers, Master,” she said, forgetting her plan to be polite. “Ow,” she yelled, as he swatted her backside in response to her sarcastic remark. “You deserved that. Now have a drink of juice.” He held a glass to her lips. “Uh–uh. No hands.” Confused, she put down the hand she had automatically lifted to hold the glass in place. Instead, he brought one hand up underneath her chin to catch any drips, rubbing a thumb across her lips when he withdrew the glass. Rebecca shivered. She actually found it quite sensuous when he did that. As for the sensation of being cared for like a child, it made her feel protected. Oh God, had she made the most dreadful mistake of her life? If she wasn’t careful, she could enjoy being submissive. This was turning into being the worst day of her life—if Jon found out, he would be indescribably unbearable. She resisted the urge to groan at her predicament, as he might take it for something else.

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Chapter Four The meal finished, Jon asked, “Have you had enough?” She nodded. “In that case, we will retire to the garden and enjoy the sunshine while it is out.” As she jumped up quickly in her desire to be off his lap and move to walk outside, he stood swiftly, grabbing her from behind. “Not so fast—the Dom goes in the lead,” he cautioned, holding her tight to make his point. A muscled arm crossed her stomach, pressing the underside of her breasts. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms with a smattering of dark hair, but not too much. The other arm was across her hips, holding her to his body. She was less concerned about his domineering tone and more worried that she could feel his arousal against her backside, as it was making her hot. She needed to get away, fast. “Sorry, Sir—after you.” “That is so close to controlling, you are walking a fine line,” he warned her, his mouth next to her ear. She could feel his breath caressing her cheek before he released her. She flushed as he walked past her, beckoning her after him somewhat infuriatingly. She wasn’t sure why she was reacting to him this way. She had never found him that desirable before. Actually, that wasn’t true. He was tall and good-looking, extremely so. In fact, he could be described as a hunk. And dark men were her type usually. Not that many men were interested in her, as her brusque, independent manner often put them off. That was one of the reasons she lived alone. Her lovers could be counted in single figures. But because she found Jon’s attitude so distasteful normally,

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she had refused to let herself be aroused by him—at least, not much. She groaned at herself. Who was she kidding? “Rebecca,” he called, interrupting her worried thoughts. When she got outside, she ignored him for a moment as she took in the lovely garden with neatly trimmed shrubs, a nicely tended flower bed with a curving path in between. She loved gardens but hadn’t realized Jon did, too. On a patio area, there was a lounger by a glass table. She wondered sarcastically if the single-seat rule continued into the garden furniture as well and if she was expected to sit dutifully at his feet while he sunbathed. She snorted to herself as the image conjured up something from Playboy. She then smoothed her face into what she thought would be a submissive look, as she felt his eyes studying her. He chuckled, shaking his head, and moved to stand directly in front of her. She knew he did this so he could appear authoritative and commanding. “Now, time for your next lesson, and this one is about humility. Something you will have difficulty with, I think.” She glared at him briefly, then turned her face into a frozen mask and stood still, awaiting his instructions. She surreptitiously looked at her watch. Oh God, she still had twenty-three hours to go. **** He smiled at her expression, guessing some of the thoughts going through her head after noticing her unsubtle glance at her watch. “As I said, the lesson is about humility and also being available to your Master. You were told not to wear panties but chose to wear jeans to hide this. However, it is not going to work, as I now require you to strip everything off, including the watch. You can leave your clothes where you are, as you aren’t going to need anything else—all weekend.”

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“You are joking!” she responded in horror. “I’m sorry not to ask permission to speak, but really. You can’t honestly want me to do that.” He guessed she expected to be naked in front of him at some point, but not so soon or outside the house. He thought she’d react like this and was surprised to find himself disappointed that the challenge might be over already. “So are you using one of your ‘oranges’ or indeed your safe word and throwing in the challenge?” “No. No, I’m not—but do you really expect me to do that?” she asked hesitantly, as if not sure if he was serious or just teasing her. “Not only do I expect it, but it is fairly normal in a D/s relationship for the sub to be naked around their Master, particularly if they are living together.” He crossed his arms as she took this in. Actually, it wasn’t usual, as it often depended on the couple in question, but Rebecca didn’t know that. Some subs did and some didn’t. If the sub loved being an exhibitionist, then that sub may well be naked frequently. He had considered asking her to wear a collar but decided that was taking things too far. Not only would she freak, she’d probably murder him in the process! Also, a collar wasn’t something to be given lightly to a sub, as it could have the same connotations as giving someone a wedding ring. Looking at her recalcitrant pose, he continued arrogantly, hoping to get a fighting reaction out of her. “However, I knew you would never be able to live the submissive life, even for a mere twenty-four hours.” He started to turn away, as if dismissing her. She held up a hand to stop him, regaining some equilibrium. “Hold on, Jon. I never said I wouldn’t do it, and I am not using one of my oranges. You could have given me a hint that you would expect me to do this.” “But I thought you said you had read up on the lifestyle?” She nodded, unsure. “And you thought I’d never ask this of you. Tut, tut,

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Rebecca. Don’t try to second-guess a Master. If you are staying, then I want those clothes off now!” He paused, watching the indecision on her face as this comment sank in. Would she do it? **** She felt irked. He was right. Naively, she never thought he would ask her to do this—at least not until they were in the bedroom. It served her right for thinking vanilla. Okay, she could be brave. It was not as if she had any problems with her body, it was just she wasn’t the sort of person to show it off. And she particularly wasn’t sure how she felt about Jon viewing it. Taking a deep breath, she tried to blank Jon out as she started to undress. It wasn’t easy. She intended doing it slowly to drag things out and use up time, but with him standing there watching her as she undressed, she found it too sexy, as it looked like she was doing a striptease, and so completed the undressing quickly. Finally standing there, naked but flushed, she looked at him, unsure what to do with her clothes as she clutched them tightly to cover her body. He gestured to the inside of the kitchen. When she came back empty-handed, she had to resist putting her hands over her breasts as that might draw his attention to them. **** Jon stared at her, trying hard to fight down an arousal, but his cock wouldn’t seem to obey. Rebecca was gorgeous. He had only seen her in work suits before, or jeans with voluminous jumpers or Tshirts and never appreciated her lovely, big breasts, her sumptuous but firm ass, and her velvety skin. “Excellent,” he said hoarsely, and then swallowed to clear his dry throat as he remembered the next part of his plan. This one was going to be hard on him as well as her, and he was already feeling very

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uncomfortable in his trousers. “Now, as I wouldn’t want you to get sunburnt while we are out here, I need to put some suntan cream on you.” “Permission to speak,” she said quickly, appearing alarmed by his suggestion. She continued at his nod, “I wouldn’t want to put you out—Sir, er, Master. I can do that myself or even sit in the shade.” She pointed to a spot under a tree, unconsciously moving in that direction. He smirked. “Nice try, but I want you by my side in the sun, and a Dom has to take responsibility in all areas of the sub’s welfare. It will also accustom you to my hands on your body. So lay on the table if you will.” He gestured to the glass table as he moved to pick up the tube of cream lying by the chair. When he turned back, she hadn’t moved. Her face was now very flushed, and she hadn’t even been in the sun yet. He raised his eyebrows in question as to whether she could go through with this. She took a deep breath and walked over to the table and lay down as requested. Despite pretending to be calm, he could see she was shaking. She then closed her eyes quickly as he loomed over her. Jon proceeded to rub the cream into her face first, it being the most innocuous part of her. He then moved to her neck and arms, smoothing in the cream and slowly relishing her soft, velvety skin, running his hands up and down her arms sensuously. Her body stiffened as he moved down further, but he bypassed her breasts. He grinned as saw her breathe a sigh of relief. Instead, he continued down to her legs. She quickly slid them tightly closed, but he ignored this, concentrating on rubbing the cream in a circular movement into her calves. He then took one ankle and firmly pulled her legs apart so he could work on her thighs. She stifled a gasp. “Your legs are very firm and muscled—I guess you must keep fit,” he commented blandly as he caressed her thighs, trying to keep the touch of her lithe legs from affecting him, although the sight of the dark curls covering her pussy was causing him plenty of

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discomfort. He finally rubbed the cream into her stomach, which quivered beneath his light touch. Her breathing increased more and more as he worked his way up. When he reached her breasts, she nearly jumped off the table. He held her down for a moment until she settled back. She bit her lip hard as he rubbed the suntan cream in, taking particular delight in rubbing it into her nipples, running his thumbs around the darkened areola. Her nipples pebbled hard beneath his touch. His own breathing was getting more erratic, too. “Turn over,” he commanded. As she complied, he pretended an air of nonchalance, turning away to get some more cream, hoping she wouldn’t notice he was as aroused as she was. He then proceeded to rub the cream into her shoulders. They were rather tense, and so he spent time massaging them rather than rubbing the cream in, delighting in the fact that he could finally touch her as he had always wanted. Moving down her back, he stopped, startled when she arched her back with a cry as he caressed her lower back. He smiled—this was clearly a sensitive part of her. He’d remember that. As he fondled her buttocks, she fought not to moan but failed. He continued to do this for a few minutes, his thumbs separating her lovely round globes. When he spread her legs, she clutched the edge of the table and gasped as he rubbed the cream slowly and deliberately in between her legs, the nails of his fingers raking her inner thighs, the tips of his fingers brushing her quivering pussy. She dug her head into her arms and trembled uncontrollably. “That’s it. I’m finished,” he stated hoarsely. He was amazed she hadn’t cried “enough” and used one of her oranges, or indeed, used the red. “Go and get a chair from around the corner of the house for you to sit in.” He watched as she hastily and shakily got down from the table, her legs nearly threatening to give way. Taking a deep breath, she ventured around the side of the building as directed.

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When she came back, Jon made it seem like he was immersed in a newspaper, one ankle propped on the knee of the other leg. As she set up her chair, she kept glancing over at him warily. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that she began to calm down and relax back in her chair when he pretended interest in the paper and not her. Her hands un-gripped the arms of her chair gradually. He, meanwhile, was in agony. The newspaper was actually covering a large erection which he was fighting down. His engorged cock was throbbing painfully in his trousers. He was thankful he hadn’t worn jeans. He breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t seem to have noticed his bulge and tried to ignore the beautiful, naked, glistening body sitting nearby. Jon knew she was as aroused as he was but told himself he had to stop thinking about her and spent the next half hour reading the same article on penguins. It worked, finally.

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Chapter Five An hour or so later, she was startled out of her daydream by a hand caressing her thigh. She had no idea of the exact time as she wasn’t wearing her watch—another way she had lost control of their activities. Sensory deprivation wasn’t just about losing one’s physical senses. She jumped to her feet, raising her own hand to her chest to still her breathing. “Sorry, you startled me. I was miles away.” Jon grinned at her discomposure and rose to his feet. “Come, Rebecca. It’s time for your next lesson. This one is about trust.” He led the way indoors. Standing still for a moment, she waited for her heart to stop beating so swiftly and then reluctantly followed him indoors. He was waiting on the staircase, where he raised an eyebrow at her tardiness to follow him like a trained pet. He wasn’t normally quite this infuriatingly irritating, she mused, suspecting he was doing it deliberately to annoy her. She followed silently as he strode up the stairs into a room. He waited until she arrived and declared, “This is your room for the night and where we will conduct the next lesson.” Following him into the yellow-patterned room, she noted that whoever had decorated his home had done it very nicely. It was a warm, friendly room. Light came streaming in through the windows. Then she became conscious of what he had said—this was to be her room for the night. She wasn’t expected to sleep with him! The smile that started quickly diminished as he beckoned her and told her to lie down on the bed. She swallowed nervously and did as

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he wanted, belatedly covering her breasts with her hands. Suddenly it seemed decidedly embarrassing to be nude in a bedroom with him, despite the fact that she had spent the last hour or so naked in his presence. Jon chuckled and took hold of her left wrist from her breast and pulled her arm up over her head. She resisted. “No, what…” “Are you asking permission to speak?” He didn’t pull on her arm further but didn’t let go either, holding it in a firm grasp. “Yes. Yes, I am. What exactly are you doing?” Her tone was haughty and demanding. He tilted his head and waited. “…Sir.” “As I said before, this lesson is about trust. And a major way of testing a sub’s trust in her Dom is via the use of bondage. It also heightens the sub’s sensations, as she is unable to control her environment, so she is not thinking about how to change it or affect a different outcome. Instead, she concentrates on what is being done to her and the sensations it evokes.” With that, he pulled out a tie, which was hidden behind the end of the bed, and started to bind her to the spindles at the head of the bed. “Oh God. No.” She resisted in earnest, sitting up on the bed as best she could, grabbing his hand to stop him. Astonished by the fear emanating from her, Jon stopped, and then asked patiently, “Are you giving your safe word? Or an orange?” “Um. Oh, hell.” She was confused and stopped resisting him, but didn’t move. “I don’t know.” “If you are unsure and need a moment, then this is definitely an orange moment.” He removed his hands from her wrist and sat next to her on the bed. “Okay, so tell me what’s bothering you? Why you don’t want to be tied up?”

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She calmed her breathing with some deep, if ragged, breaths. “I’ve never been tied up before, so didn’t know I’d react this way, but to tell the truth, it terrifies me—scares the shit out of me, actually!” Running a soothing hand sympathetically over her back, he said softly, “That’s not surprising. You are an incredibly controlling person normally. The thought of passing that control to someone else is at its height with bondage, even more so if the person is also blindfolded. But I’m not doing that to you,” he added as she gasped in dread. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you even more, although depriving someone of one of their senses does highlight the others. However, being tied up is something you have to do if you want to continue the challenge. Bondage of some sort or another is common amongst Doms and subs. This sounds cheesy, but bondage helps bind the Dom and sub’s relationship as it helps the sub give up their control to the Dom.” Pausing to watch her swallow as she tried to overcome her fear, he continued, “So I ask you again, are you ready to continue?” Realizing she had to go through with this or lose the challenge, she grimaced and nodded slowly—very slowly. It helped that he was actually being quite gentle, which was something she never expected from him. “So I’d like you to lie down again.” He waited patiently until she complied, then finished tying the first hand and moved around the bed to do the other hand. While he was moving, she tested the fastening by tugging on it— hard. Damn, she was well and truly tied. He finished the second hand then moved to the foot of the bed, trailing a hand idly over her skin from breast to leg as he went, causing tingling sensations. It would be ticklish if it didn’t verge on the erotic, she thought, and wondered if it was deliberate, to give her something else to consider other than being tied.

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But when he took hold of her ankle, she balked again. “Oh God, not my legs as well, please.” “Sorry, my love, you need to be spread-eagled for what I have in mind.” “What! What are you going to do?” That had taken her mind off the imminent bondage, and he tied her legs quickly and easily. “Are you questioning me? Are you trying to control the scene? It doesn’t sound like you are being submissive to me.” “Sorry, Master. I’m still learning.” He had finished tying her now. He was right, she noted in irritation, the sensation of being unable to move much and having her legs wide apart with her pussy open to his stare was very arousing. In fact, it was so arousing that it was engulfing her entire thoughts. Her breath was coming faster and more ragged. She could feel herself getting very wet, her cream trickling down her cleft. She hoped he didn’t notice. “I should refuse to answer your questions and just continue, but as you are learning, I will tell you. I am now going to finger-fuck you.” He looked at her intently to gauge her thoughts. She nearly exclaimed aloud, but clamped her lips together as she remembered she had agreed to this. She groaned inwardly. “Were you going to say something?” She shook her head. “Hmm. Well, in case you want to know why I am doing this to you—not that I need to explain myself, mind you—it goes back to the fact that sexual activity is a large part of a Dom/sub relationship, but it also takes the lesson of trust to the next level. As I arouse you, there is no way you can control your climax. It is entirely in my hands, and you trust me to give that to you.” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to bring her to climax, as it would be entirely too humiliating. In fact, she wasn’t sure what was worse at this stage, the humiliation of him arousing her or the humiliation if she lost the challenge. She could see him staring at her, assessing her reaction. She looked away, refusing to show him her feelings, although her flushed face was surely a dead giveaway.

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“Do you understand what I am telling you?” Since he asked her a direct question, she could answer him. Looking at him, she decided to brazen it out. “Of course, Master. Can’t wait for it. It’s been a long time since my last climax.” As he narrowed his eyes at her waspish comment, she swallowed nervously. He didn’t respond, but instead trailed his hand slowly up the inside of her leg, clearly remembering from the earlier exercise with the suntan cream how sensitive she was there. When he reached her pussy, she quivered, and he stopped. She trembled further in anticipation of what he was going to do next. She could feel her heart pounding violently. Instead of touching her further as she expected, he raised his hand, grinning at the moist juices on his fingertips. He turned his hand to show her. Rebecca groaned and closed her eyes in embarrassment. His satisfied expression was infuriating. “Well, if this is anything to go by, it won’t be long before you climax.” He chuckled and sat down on the bed. Her eyes opened suddenly when she felt his mouth on her breast. Holy crap. His tongue swirling around her hard nipple before pulling it into his mouth and sucking firmly caused jolts of desire to run down her body to her clit. She’d never had a boyfriend who knew how to suck her breasts properly. They mostly liked to pull or bite, if they bothered at all. Then she felt his hand on her stomach, stroking, and she could have sworn her heart burst through her chest. She started to pant in earnest. His hand moved downward, pressing firmly over her mound, cupping her. A moan slipped unbidden from her throat. She clamped her lips together to stop more sounds emitting as she swallowed repeatedly. She unconsciously tried to close her legs. Jon glanced up from her breast and grinned at her aroused expression. Holding her gaze, he moved his fingers, parting her labia while his thumb caressed her clit.

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“Jeez!” She bit her bottom lip as that exclamation came out. She didn’t know whether to open or close her eyes. Somehow by keeping them open, she felt more in control, but that meant she could see his commanding face. Her surprised exclamation seemed to spur him on, and he dipped a finger into her moist pussy. Leaving her breasts, he kissed down her body to her clit. As he did, her body bucked against the restraints. She couldn’t stand it much more. She was going to come soon and come harder than she had ever done before. As her body rocked hard with increasing need, she felt two fingers inside her pussy pressing hard. “Come for me, Becca.” Suddenly she was over the top, her climax causing her to yowl in extreme ecstasy, her body pushing into his hand as much as she was able to do while restrained. Then it was over, and her body thumped back down onto the bed, trembling convulsively, her heart beating rapidly. **** Thank God, thought Jon. He couldn’t have stood it much longer. His erection was so hard he was in agony. He hadn’t realized how difficult this would be for him. Not wanting her to see his enormous bulge, he left her tied up and coming down from her high and quickly vacated the room. By the time he came back with a warm flannel to clean her up, his erection was gone. It hadn’t taken much more than a few grasps of his hand on his cock to bring himself off. He was mightily relieved and back in control again and ruminated on what happened as he gently wiped her. He was a good enough lover that he knew how to get a reaction out of a woman, but he was particularly delighted to have got the response from Rebecca that he did, partly because of their challenge.

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But it was also because he had never given much thought before the challenge to how much he would enjoy touching her, and knowing their usual relationship, he was never likely to be in this position again. She shifted uncomfortably under him. “Stop squirming. It’s the Dom’s job to clean his sub, or didn’t you read that bit in your researches?” She frowned but stopped moving and let him finish. He could see she was considering what he said. He’d guessed that she had read that but dismissed it as a fantasy. Unfortunately, touching her intimately caused Jon to start to get hard again, so he quickly untied her and told her to shower while he made up things he had to do elsewhere in the house. She looked shocked at this sudden change in activity, or was it more like disappointment that he wasn’t continuing? he contemplated. That would be a turnup for the books.

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Chapter Six The hot water and the separation from Jon helped Rebecca unwind. She needed this time to recover from the last session. She had been surprised in her intense reaction to what had transpired. If she wasn’t careful, this weekend could end up differently from what she expected at the outset—vastly different. Not wanting to reflect further, she left the shower and waited in the bedroom. It was a while before Jon returned, during which time she found herself missing his attention. This confused her soundly. Getting back to the reason for her visit, Jon continued the lessons. He demonstrated various positions commonly used by subs, including those involving other forms of bondage. Thankfully, Rebecca didn’t feel the need to cry “orange” again. These lessons were given like a teacher to a pupil and didn’t involve any powerful emotions. Instead, she found herself being quite intrigued by them and relaxed considerably. When he told her there wouldn’t be any lessons over dinner and that she could talk freely, Rebecca nearly whooped. What she did do was breathe a huge sigh of relief and then regretted it at his look of superiority. “Any chance of being allowed to put some clothes on?” she asked slyly. “Now you are taking the piss!” He laughed. “However, I’ll allow you to put this on—but unbuttoned.” He handed her one of his shirts. As she donned it, she had to admit it looked rather sexy on her, as her breasts peaked out when she moved, the tails wafting over her buttocks as she sauntered away from him, looking at him teasingly

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over her shoulder. She wondered if he thought so, too—the look on his face said he did. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure if it was better to be naked or not, as she could smell his scent on the shirt, arousing her all over again. The doorbell rang. She looked up in surprise, her body tensing, all her flirting forgotten. As Jon left the room, she sat down on a chair, her legs shaky, hoping he hadn’t included any lessons involving other people. She had read that some Doms shared their subs with others or at least allowed other Doms to fondle their subs. She shivered in fear and knew she really would give her safe word if that happened, despite the bet. Swallowing nervously, she ran a clammy hand down the shirt as she waited, listening hard for voices. She heard the door closing, and Jon called her. “Becca, where are you? Come on down. It’s time for dinner.” Her mouth was dry with anxiety. She hoped she wasn’t the main course. Forcing herself to her feet, she went down the stairs to join him. Dinner was on the table—it was Chinese take-out! She sighed deeply. She had never been so relieved in her life. Her imagination had nearly been the death of her. Then she did whoop and dance around unladylike when he told her she could sit on her own chair and feed herself. **** Jon laughed as he watched her twirl around, the shirt she was wearing flying open to reveal her lovely breasts, and he caught a glimpse of the curls covering the pussy he had touched so intimately earlier. Finally she threw herself into a chair and examined the delicious food. Still grinning at her cheerful expression, Jon sat down himself and started to help himself to some rice.

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After a few minutes choosing their food selection, Jon said, “So, Becca, I said you could talk freely. Let’s regard this as a ‘half-time’ recap.” “Okay–y,” she responded slowly, unsure what to expect of this. “Firstly, you’ve experienced being dominated by someone taking control away from you while, and at the same time, they expect you to respect them.” “I certainly have!” she retorted, as she crunched on a prawn cracker. Jon laughed. “I know you wouldn’t have enjoyed any of that, since it goes against the grain for you, but think of it from the point of view that the sub—in this case you—doesn’t have any of the stresses that comes with being in charge. The responsibility lies entirely with the Dom, including all the caring. You can have all the fun with no one expecting you to make any decisions whatsoever. Caring for the sub can come first in the relationship. Think of lunch—I chose to feed you first, even if you didn’t like it!” Pausing in her eating to consider his statement, she said, “Hmm. I can see how that could be very tempting.” Gesturing her chopsticks at him, she continued, “I’m not saying I’m tempted, mind you.” “Oh, naturally not! You also had an appalling problem with the ‘respect’ side of things. You definitely need to work on that.” She looked sheepish. “And how did you feel after you showered, when I demonstrated the various ways a sub holds herself in readiness for her Dom?” He had illustrated positions favoured in more intense D/s relationships, like kneeling before the Dom when he enters a room with breasts jutting forward, knees open shoulder-width apart, hands held behind her back submissively and eyes down—all, of course, without saying a word. She shuddered as she recalled, and stopped eating for a moment to reply. “Urrh. Horrid. Humiliating. Unnatural.”

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Jon chuckled. It was nice to get back to the Rebecca he knew. He was used to her having an opinion on pretty much everything. He had missed this, he realized in surprise, when he insisted she be submissive—even missed the times they argued. “Unnatural for you, maybe, but when a sub makes those positions, she is showing her Dom she is willing and trusting and looking forward to whatever he plans to do.” “I’ll remain unconvinced on that one.” He smiled, knowing she would have found the activities of the last few hours hard to take—hard to fight off arousal as much as hard to accept being submissive. She suddenly stated, “You really enjoy doing this, don’t you?” “Yeah. Hasn’t that been obvious all these years?” He chuckled. “No, you idiot, I mean the teaching or training side of things.” “Hm, I’m ignoring the fact you called me an idiot at the moment, but yes, you’re right. I do like teaching new subs.” Grinning, she seemed pleased to get one back on him. “Moving on. You’ve also experienced being naked constantly and touched intimately. That opens up limitless opportunities for sensuality.” “More likely opportunities for hypothermia.” She laughed at his expression of long suffering and teased, “How do you manage in winter?” “Two words—central heating.” “Oh, ha-ha!” He laughed. He was enjoying their banter. Somehow it was different from the past, possibly because of the intimacy they had experienced. It was also different from training new subs who usually had no desire to analyze the experience, they just did what he told them. They were both silent a few moments while eating the food and enjoying the harmony.

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**** Jon then restarted the conversation. “What else did we do—ah, you’ve also experienced bondage, although you could regard that an extension of how the Dom exerts his control.” Rebecca was silent, and her smile slipped. She had been enjoying discussing the experience as equals, and it was also a relief to be able to engage in conversation again. However, she wasn’t prepared to discuss with him how she felt about being tied up and finger-fucked. It wasn’t that she was angry about it or disliked it, but quite the opposite. Actually, she had found it incredibly arousing, but there was no way she was going to admit to him that it had been one of the most incredible experiences of her life. He jerked his chin up to look at her, surprised at her silence. “No comeback to that one?” “Sorry, you said it was an extension to what you had already said about control, and I agree,” she continued quickly, moving away from that line of discussion. “But isn’t a big part of the lifestyle flogging and such?” Starting to choke, he quickly grabbed a glass of water. “Are you asking me to flog you?” asked Jon curiously, after regaining his voice. “Oh God no!” He grinned at her horror. Narrowing her eyes, she said pertly, “I was asking, as it was something being demonstrated when we were at the club that night.” “I know. I’m teasing you. And in answer to your question, things like flogging can be a part of the lifestyle, but every relationship picks and chooses what suits them as a couple. Therefore it doesn’t always follow that you would do everything with a Dom that I am going to show you this weekend. If, of course, you decide to take up the lifestyle after this,” he teased. She poked her tongue out at him.

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“But I am not getting into things we haven’t practiced yet,” he admonished. “Let us discuss those that we did. So, let’s get back to the bondage.” She groaned. He chuckled. “You used an orange on that one. I know it really scared you at first, but you overcame it.” There was more silence. She really didn’t want to talk about her reaction, nor how she felt when he had showed or explained various other ways submissives could be restrained, which were sometimes strange, even mind-boggling, and above all, arousing, particularly the St. Andrew’s Cross. “I’m inviting you to tell me about it,” he told her after a moment. She responded reluctantly, “It’s not something I want to discuss further, if you don’t mind.” “But I do mind. We’ve already explored the fact that trust is important as is understanding what works and doesn’t work for a person. So therefore I have to know how you felt so I can avoid it in future—well, this weekend at least.” He laughed. “Or if we overcame your fear and you thoroughly enjoyed it, then maybe we could do it again before you go. Besides which, I am intrigued to know exactly how you felt, as bondage is a favorite activity of mine.” Rebecca glared at him. He knew she had climaxed, so why was he dragging this one out? she wondered, looking away for a moment from his knowing stare. She decided to lie. “No, I did not enjoy being tied up.” He frowned as if he knew she had lied. “I seem to recall when I tied you to the Cross you were distinctly wet, dripping, in fact.” He drew the last statement out carefully, watching her reaction. Retreating to anger to avoid admitting how much it had aroused her, she stated, “I can’t believe you have one of those things in your home!” “It comes in useful for those subs who enjoy the experience,” he retorted, in his usual sardonic tone.

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“Huh!” “You know,” said Jon, as he toyed with a water chestnut. “I once went to a party where the sub was tied to the table and the Chinese food placed on or around her.” She frowned, confused by the complete change of subject. “You’re kidding.” “Not at all. Just think of the pleasure she got every time the chopsticks happened to grasp a nipple.” Rebecca grimaced. “Painful, I’d imagine.” He sighed as she withdrew behind her hard barrier again. “Use your imagination—consider the feeling of several tongues licking oozing sauce from your erogenous zones.” “Icky! And don’t even consider trying it on me!” “What puts you off—the thought of food all over your body or several people feeding on you and providing you with multiple sensual experiences?” The word “sensual” was said lingeringly. She sat still as she considered it. “Definitely the food—but at the same time, I’m not sure about being naked with more than one person. I suppose that makes me very square.” She shrugged. Surprisingly, Jon seemed to be pleased. “Being with more than one person is not everyone’s cup of tea—to use a food analogy.” “Ha-ha!” There was no more evaluation of the day’s experiences, much to Rebecca’s relief. But she did wonder in trepidation what more he intended to show her.

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Chapter Seven After dinner was finished, they sat around talking for ages about a variety of topics, discovering they both loved films, in particular historical epics like Gone with the Wind or Doctor Zhivago. She noted how easily they fell into putting things away like an ordinary couple. Jon then interrupted her thoughts, which verged on disturbing as she considered them doing normal couple things. Did he feel the same way? she wondered. “Okay, sweetheart, time for the evening’s session.” She groaned. “And I want the shirt off. We are back to Dom and sub again, so to reiterate your earlier lessons, ask permission to talk, no smart comebacks, call me Sir or Master, and no resisting unless you want to use one of your two remaining oranges. Clear?” Resisting an urge to curtsy, except it wouldn’t really have worked without a skirt, she smirked instead. “You were about to say something sarcastic then, weren’t you?” Since he had asked her a direct question, she answered sheepishly, not looking him in the eye, “Sort of…Sir. Although it was more something I was going to do.” “Go on. I’ve asked, what were you going to do?” “Curtsy.” He laughed loudly. “Well, fantasy scenarios can be part of the D/s play. We could always do Master and his servant, but I don’t have appropriate costumes on me.” “I think I’ll skip that one on this occasion,” she said dryly. “Come on. Up the stairs.”

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“May I ask a question?” He stopped and looked back. She hadn’t moved. He frowned, as if wondering what the problem was. “Go ahead.” “Do all the activities have to take place in the bedroom?” “No—we didn’t do the suntan cream inside.” “That’s true.” “However, although you could do our next activity in many places, the bed is more comfortable for what I have in mind.” “And that is?” “Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger at her. “You’re not trying to take control again are you, my love?” “Sorry, Sir. Natural habit,” she sighed. As she followed him up the stairs, she thought about the fact that he had called her ‘my love’ and ‘sweetheart’ several times. Did he do this with all his subs? she wondered. “Okay, shirt off, lay on the bed, facedown, please.” She frowned. Maybe he was going to demonstrate flogging. She wished she hadn’t mentioned it earlier. But she wasn’t sure using a flogger would work on a bed. Surely you needed to be upright or somewhere that the flogger wouldn’t be impeded like the cross? A shiver of horror came over her that maybe he was going to demonstrate spanking instead. Actually, she wasn’t sure if it was horror or lust, as the thought of his hands on her buttocks had made her nipples tighten in arousal. She moved swiftly to the bed, glad she was on her front so he didn’t see. **** Jon moved around the room, gathering the supplies he needed while she moved into the position he requested, watching him as he did his preparations. It wasn’t flogging, spanking, or anything like that he was going to try out this time. It was something else that required her to be

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facedown, although he could have done it from a different position, he reflected, but it worked best for first-timers this way. He held up a butt plug so that she could see it. She moved up on her elbows. “What on earth is that? It sort of looks like a vibrator, but thinner and wider at one end.” “Good description. I take it you’ve never used a butt plug or had anal sex before?” Rebecca suddenly jumped off the opposite side of the bed with a look of terror, holding her hands out in front as if to ward him off or defend herself against the thing he held. Jon was stunned by her sudden movement. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed to try to calm her. “Hey, what’s up? I take it that’s a no from your reaction,” he said softly. Hugging the wall, she struggled to swallow. “You’d take that correctly.” “I won’t hurt you. That’s what this is for.” He held up some lubricant. “I am not suggesting anal sex.” “Too right you’re not.” “Rebecca, I’m giving you a lot of leeway here because you are new to this, but the more often you forget your earlier lessons, the more chance you have of losing this challenge,” he reminded her, hoping that the threat of losing would dilute her fears. Tears prickled behind her eyes. “Sorry, Jon—Master. It’s just— I’m not sure I can do this. I’ve never done it before—never even considered it.” “Okay, I understand your fear. Many new subs have a similar problem. But I’m only suggesting a beginner’s butt plug. You know how experienced I am. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Her misery was palpable. He wondered why she hadn’t added it to the list of things she wouldn’t do—maybe she forgot to add it. There were so many other things she had included. “Are you calling time on this?” he asked. “I think we can safely call this an orange moment.”

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She continued to be silent as she fought her fears. “Rebecca,” he said softly but firmly, calling her attention to him instead of the offending implement she was staring at. “Your options are red to finish now, or green to continue. No more prevaricating.” “Shit. Okay.” She took several really big breaths and ran a hand over her face, wiping a few tears away. “Green,” she whispered. “Good girl. Come back here.” He patted the bed. With trembling, reluctant legs, she climbed back onto the bed. He waited until she lay back on her stomach and rubbed her back, gentling her, waiting for her to calm down and lose some tenseness. Remembering how much she liked being touched on her lower back, he concentrated his strokes there. It took some time, but when he felt her quiver, he started to extend his caresses to her butt and thighs, dipping into the crease between her buttocks before returning to the small of her back. “Widen your legs a little,” he requested, and then chuckled as she widened them minutely. “Sweetheart, they need to be a little wider than that.” He sighed when they widened, but not by much, so he took hold of her thighs and moved them further apart himself. She gasped and tensed but then relaxed when he didn’t do anything more than continue to caress her bottom, his thumbs separating her buttocks before his fingers dipped into her pussy from time to time. She might have been fearful about what he was about to do, but she was still aroused by it, if her wetness was anything to go by. He pulled his fingers out and reached up to get a pillow. She raised her head, so he bent forward and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to put this under your stomach to raise you slightly. All right?” he asked softly. She shivered and nodded. Putting a strong arm around her waist, he lifted her in order to position the pillow. Then, after lowering her, he pushed her legs up one at a time until she was crouched with her legs on either side of the pillow. This gave him total access to her exposed rear end.

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Rebecca clutched at the bed cover. He wasn’t sure if she was clutching the cover in fear or arousal—he could tell both emotions were battling strongly in her. Part of her fear would come from not being able to see what he was doing, he noted, as she had limited vision in this position. Suddenly she went still, as Jon ran his thumbs around the rim of her back passage, pressing firmly. She gasped and started to pant. Aware that she was getting anxious, he shushed her and resumed fingering her pussy and then removed his dripping fingers to run them over her tense rim. He repeated this again and again. She shuddered. This was a new experience for her, so he wondered what sensations were going through her. Feeling her tenseness dissolve a little, he pressed a thumb again on her rim to open her passage and swiftly inserted a finger of his other hand. “Oh!” Her panting grew harsher. “Am I hurting you?” Jon asked, concerned. She didn’t answer. “Rebecca!” “Uh … oh God. No, not hurting, just tight, odd.” “Good. It will help if you can relax at all, but I appreciate this is strange. That’s it. Excellent,” he said, as he found it possible to slide in two fingers. She gasped as he scissored his fingers inside her to widen her. “I am going to insert the plug now.” “Shit! Oh—okay.” “Are you sure?” He didn’t want her tensing so much that it hurt. “Hell, no, but we’ve come this far. Let’s not stop.” He laughed and whispered, “You’re controlling again.” As she groaned, he gently inserted the plug as he withdrew his finger, pushing it in firmly as her body wanted to eject it. “Ahhh. Oh God, it feels like I need to go to the toilet, badly.” Jon smiled. At least she had stopped being scared. He pushed further until he reached the end of the plug, twisting it slightly to ensure the end was snug against her. Then patted her backside and

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leaned forward to kiss her shoulder, rubbing her back in comfort. “It’s in. Well done, my love.” She looked up in surprise. His heart lurched at the sight of her teary face. He very nearly reached back and withdrew the plug instantly, but she turned her head back to look at herself as best she could. “Oh wow. I did it.” She grinned at him. His heart twisted even more. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was fast falling for her, and that wouldn’t do. He liked submissive women, women who did what he told them and who didn’t resist everything he told them to do. Although he had to admit, he thoroughly enjoyed it when Rebecca resisted because the moment when she finally gave up resisting was heart-stopping. He lifted a hand to push the hair out of her face and palmed her cheek. “You are so beautiful.” He wasn’t just talking about her looks but her strength, her courage, and her determination. As he leaned his head down to kiss her, she closed her eyes. He felt her give in to the passion simmering between them. His hand came around to hold her head as he kissed her hard, his tongue finding its way between her lips. He felt a spark go snaking through her body as their tongues met. Pushing her down onto the bed, turning her onto her side, he continued the earth-shattering kiss as his hands started to fondle her breasts, plucking her hardened nipples. He felt her arm move around his shoulder to hold him tightly. As he went to put his leg between hers, the pillow stuck between them like a barrier. It brought Rebecca to her senses, and she pulled her head away and pushed at his chest. “No! We agreed. You said I didn’t have to have full sex with you.” He pushed himself off the bed, angrily fighting a losing battle to remain calm. “You can remove the plug whenever you like. We’ve finished for the night. I’ll see you in the morning.” At that, he stormed out of the room.

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She had been in the right. This was their agreement, and her stopping him then didn’t count as her final orange. He had had to leave suddenly, or he’d have done something he regretted, like tied her to the bed and made delicious love to her all night, the challenge be damned. **** Rebecca lay there, fighting tears caused partly because of his anger at her and partly because she had really, really wanted him to continue, and that emotion frightened her. A sob escaped her before she took a deep breath. After removing the plug, she washed and curled up in the bed. She didn’t sleep well.

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Chapter Eight Breakfast the next morning was pretty much like dinner had been the previous day, each eating from their own chair. The difference was that Rebecca was naked, and neither spoke much. Actually, the atmosphere was rather frosty. Rebecca hovered around, very slowly putting away the breakfast supplies that neither had eaten much. Not that she was trying to be submissive, but she was doing avoidance tasks—anything to put off what was coming next. Yesterday had been a roller coaster, and she wasn’t ready for another round, particularly as she hadn’t slept much. Finishing the last of his coffee, Jon stood. “Come on. Time to start this morning’s lesson.” Stifling a groan, she said, “I’ll just put this away.” “Are you refusing to come with me?” She turned and smiled—well, smirked. “Of course not. If you want things left all over the place, so be it. At least I was being dutiful in attempting to put them away. You could even say submissive.” He frowned. “That sounds seriously like a sarcastic comeback to me! Are you defying me?” Oops, she thought. Time to keep her mouth closed or at least her comments neutral. However, only a few more hours and she’d have completed the challenge, although at this stage she didn’t care if she won or not—she just wanted to get through it. “Sorry, Sir.” ****

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“Hmmph.” But he let her off, as she looked so damned gorgeous this morning sidling toward him, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Of course, he could be accused of letting his standards drop by letting her get away with that defiance. He grinned. On the other hand, it was nice to have someone to banter with. He missed that with submissives he had had lately, in fact, most of the submissives he had been with. It was one of the reasons none of them lasted more than a few weeks. As for a permanent partner or wife, no one had come close. He led her upstairs to his bedroom this time. She hesitated in the doorway, taking deep breaths. Jon turned toward her. “This lesson is about punishment—how it works and the various methods one can use.” “What-t!” He raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Permission to speak, Sir?” At his nod, she continued argumentatively, “What is it I am supposed to have done to warrant punishment? I could never understand why a woman allows a man to hit her, whether it be spanking, flogging, whipping, or the various other methods. I think it’s just about the man showing his violent tendencies.” “Have you finished?” he asked, as she ended the outburst. “Sorry, yes.” “I totally appreciate the fact that you have no understanding what the use of punishment is about. That is why you need a lesson in it.” She groaned, knowing she had stepped into that one with both feet. He continued, “As for what you have done to warrant punishment, I still haven’t forgiven you for that sarcastic comment in the kitchen just now. It isn’t the first time you have made similar retorts. I could also cite your lack of respect in calling me ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ on many occasions, talking without permission, taking the initiative, refusing— initially—to do certain tasks, and calling me an idiot.” He counted them off on his fingers. “Shall I continue?”

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She shook her head. Wondering if she realized he could probably have declared that she had lost on several occasions, he pondered why he didn’t call time on the challenge. Possibly because he didn’t want to stop the experience that he would never have with her again. “In that case, I will explain further,” he stated, bringing his thoughts back to the task in hand. “One of the purposes of punishment is certainly to bring the submissive in line when they are getting above themselves—to remind them who is in charge. This can be very important because the rules are there for the sub’s safety as much as anything else. The sub that breaks them might endanger themselves.” “A bit like a parent-child relationship.” “Exactly. And it doesn’t have to be physical punishment. For a sub who breaks the rules because they are attention-seeking, a better punishment might involve being sent to a room by themselves or leaving them alone by themselves for a while.” “Okay, I get that, but why all the different implements for physical punishment?” “We are getting into another area of punishment, that being the use of pain as sexual arousal. Take that dismissive look off your face.” He laughed—she was giving him her usual, scornful Rebecca look. “Some people do find pain very arousing. Some people like extreme pain and …” “But surely those people need to be hospitalized?” He laughed even louder. “I’ve just added interrupting me, and without asking permission to interrupt, as more reasons for your punishment.” She looked guilty. “I am going to combine the use of punishment tools for sexual arousal with your punishment for your infringements.” She looked startled. He knew she wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but was sure she wasn’t going to like it. She’d learn. “Fine.” “That’s it—just fine? Are you telling me you are not objecting?”

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“But, Master, I’m not allowed to object, am I? Or I’ll lose the challenge?” she stated, somewhat sarcastically. Jon ignored the sarcasm. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you are baiting me because you really want to try this out—that you are secretly aroused by the thought of my firm hand against your soft buttocks.” “In your dreams,” she muttered, turning her head away. “What was that?” he asked, knowing exactly what she had said. Part of him did wonder if she was aroused by the thought of his hand against her bottom, but he knew she’d never admit it. “Oh nothing,” she said breezily. “Unfortunately, I am not going to spank you.” She looked disappointed at his comment and then flushed at his stare as he pondered that look. “Instead, I am going to paddle you.” At her look of confusion, he added, “It’s a bit like a table tennis bat, only this one is a bit different.” He walked over to a cupboard and retrieved the said implement. Rebecca frowned and reached out to touch the paddle. “This may be a daft question, but what’s the soft, furry side for?” Jon grinned and moved it out of her reach. “Don’t be impatient. You’ll learn soon enough. Now I don’t have anything like a spanking bench here like they have in the club—” “You do surprise me,” she interrupted. He glared and continued, “So we will improvise. I want you lying over the side of the bed, facedown, feet to the floor.” He waited until she nervously complied, her feet barely touching the floor. She jumped as he laid a gentle hand on the small of her back, caressing her gently. “The key word here is ‘honesty.’ Don’t feel afraid to say when you have had enough—people have different pain tolerances.” “But I can’t give my safe word or I’ll lose.”

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“For the purposes of this lesson, we’ll let that be. You can use any safe word, and you won’t lose the challenge—however,” he added quickly, before she got a chance to say anything as she opened her mouth for a retort. “You have to experience some punishment before I’ll say the lesson is over. It’s no good saying you’ve had enough immediately.” “Okay, but how much do I have to take before you will allow me to call quits?” “Let’s say six.” And with that, he gave her the first gentle hit to her buttocks. “Ow.” He chuckled derisively. “Oh, please! Rebecca! That couldn’t have hurt. I never would have taken you for a wimp.” She tensed. He knew it wouldn’t have hurt, it was more surprise that he had done it. He felt her bracing herself for the next one. Hit. That one would have hurt, but she didn’t say anything. He nearly chuckled. She wasn’t about to give him the chance to criticize her, so she wouldn’t tell him that it was painful. Then the third came. Hit. Each one was to a different part of her buttocks, which were starting to look very pink. She leaned a forehead against the duvet cover. Then her head jerked up. He grinned as he caressed her hot skin with the soft side of the paddle. “What’s that?” “Shh. You wanted to know what the furry side was for. This is it—for caressing, soothing, even arousing.” She appeared to be dumbfounded. He knew from past subs that the sensation from pain to pleasure was intense. He felt shivers run through her body as he continued to rub the fur gently against her hurting buttocks, and her breathing calmed. “Ahh.” He had paddled her with the hard side again, and then followed it up with the soothing soft side. As the paddle lifted off her skin, she tensed for the next hit, but instead, Jon turned it on its side and rubbed it in the crease of her butt.

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She gasped, grabbed the duvet and widened her legs involuntarily. When he pushed the paddle up toward her clit, pressing inexorably, she moaned. Jon smiled. That was the reaction he wanted—for her to realize the arousal potential in punishment. He removed the paddle from her body. She had two more hits to go. He gave her the first of them, harder than the others to determine if she could take it—some subs really got off on pain, but he couldn’t determine yet if Rebecca was one of them. “Jeez—us. Shit, shit, shit. Ow, Ow.” He noticed she couldn’t resist putting a hand back to cover her bottom in defense, but her hand touched the fur instead, as he started to rub the painful area. He removed her hand, placing it back on the duvet, and turned the paddle again on its side to rub her crease, this time putting firm pressure on her clit for a moment before retreating to caress her with the furry side, then going back again—this time spending longer pressing her clit. Her juices began dripping down her thighs, causing the furry side to get wet. “Okay, my love,” Jon said softly. “The final hit is coming up. How much can you take?” “Oh God. Not like the last one, please.” Her voice was wobbly. He realized he had reached her limit, at least for now. Although it wasn’t as if she would ever allow him to do this again, he noted ruefully, so he reduced the intensity for the last one. **** Rebecca breathed a huge sigh of relief—relief that the last hit wasn’t as bad as the previous and relief that it was all over. She had survived her first punishment and was stunned by the conflicting emotions of pain and pleasure. Meanwhile, Jon hadn’t stopped caressing her with the furry side. It felt good, very soothing, very

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enjoyable. In fact, this time he continued up her back before returning to her backside. She shivered in delight. “Can you turn over?” he requested softly, dropping the paddle to the floor, helping her turn. She sucked in a gasp. It hurt somewhat as she put pressure on her sore bottom. He looked down at her and placed an arm either side of her head. Her face felt flushed. There were some tear tracks down her cheeks, which he wiped off with his thumbs. “So that was your first punishment, and I note you did find it arousing like I thought you would,” he couldn’t help stating. “I was only moaning against the pain,” she retorted. He chuckled and reached down between her legs before she could clamp them together. “Oh, yes!” He ran his hand up her thigh and swiped some of her cream trickling down. “That’s sweat,” she declared. He laughed loudly at her denial.

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Chapter Nine “Okay, my love,” he continued. “Pretty much all of what you’ve experienced so far involves pleasure in some way or another for the sub. So you see, it’s not all about the Master. Instead, the Dom often goes without a climax in order to train the sub to hold off on their pleasure to give them a greater experience.” Rebecca looked shocked at his statement. “There is one way, however, for the sub to show their Dom their appreciation. That is with cocksucking. This isn’t something a Master forces on his sub, although I suspect some subs just go along with their Master’s request for them to undertake the act, while some show their joyful submission by undertaking this with relish.” He looked at her, expecting a response. She returned his look with a frosty one. “Permission to speak.” He sighed and nodded. He knew an argument was coming. On the other hand, he was enjoying her sharp retorts. He realized he also enjoyed a viewpoint of the lifestyle from someone not into it. “Don’t expect relish from me.” “That’s it?” He chuckled. “Actually, you probably don’t appreciate it, but this is the sub’s big chance to be in control.” “What!” “Think about it—the man is at his most vulnerable with his most prized and sensitive possession in her mouth.” She laughed. “And the sub can get their revenge for all the times her climax was withheld by the Dom. She can take her time and tease by kissing and licking his cock and avoiding the sucking motion, the friction

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needed for a man to climax. I’m not sure I should be telling you this. It will give you ideas.” His grin faltered. He expected her to laugh and was surprised when she didn’t. “But…” started Rebecca, clearly unsure whether to continue what she wanted to say. “But what?” he asked, concerned. She hesitated. “Well, what about deep-throating? Surely that can’t be fun.” “Never done it?” Jon queried. “No—and no desire to do it now.” “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to do that, but it can be a sign of the sub’s devotion if she is willing to permit it. But for now I just want to see how much you can take, so suck what you can.” **** Rebecca grimaced and went to sit on the floor. “Uh-uh, on the bed, please. Lay on your back with your head off the side,” requested Jon. She frowned, unsure what he had in mind. Cocksucking was something she had only done once and absolutely hated it, and that had been when her boyfriend had leaned over her as she lay beneath him, thrusting himself into her mouth almost violently, choking her in the process. It caused her to gag so much she threw up—much to the boyfriend’s derision. That relationship had stopped right then. Complying reluctantly, she swiftly closed her eyes as Jon shucked his clothes and moved closer. She felt his hands either side of her head, holding her firmly in place, and then his cockhead touched her lips. She opened her lips slightly, and as he pushed to gain entry she felt panic rising. Pulling away suddenly, she scrambled to her knees, crying, “No, no—orange, orange.” Jon was a little taken aback. “Okay—you realize that’s your last orange? If you resist again, it’s all over.”

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She nodded distractedly, trying to regain some calm. “I take it you are not a fan of cocksucking.” “No…did it once, hated it.” Jon sat down on the bed, taking her hands in his to comfort her. “Okay. Some people do hate it, but be more specific. What exactly frightened you? Because I know it was more than just hating it.” “Oh God, I don’t know. Um, well the lack of control thing, I suppose.” He chuckled knowingly. “And?” “Er—when a boyfriend did it, he also came at me from above—it was incredibly scary.” “Sorry, I should have thought of that.” He pondered. “This is something we have to get through, despite the fact that my erection has subsided somewhat.” He laughed. He suddenly had an idea. “How about we do it like you were going to do, you kneeling on the floor in front of me? That will give you the ability to control how much you take.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, I can do that.” She didn’t want to do this at all, but it was better than lying down. He helped her off the bed into position, her sore backside forgotten. “Take a deep breath.” She did. “And another.” Her hands moved to his thighs, holding herself steady as she bent forward. Rebecca smiled as she lifted a hand to grasp him, his erection rising again. What did he say before—the sub has all the control in this circumstance? Okay, now she was calmer, she would see if he was right. So she untightened her grasp and trailed her fingers up and down his cock, gently stroking. Jon tilted his head so he could see her face to gauge her reaction. She smiled teasingly back. He reached out and lifted her chin slightly. “Hey, get on with it.” “I thought you said the sub has all the power.”

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He growled in response. She laughed and moved her head forward, taking the head of his cock into her mouth, licking his precum as she did. He growled again—actually, it was more of a groan. Unconsciously reaching out to hold her head, he must have become aware of what he had done when she stiffened, so he moved to caress her hair instead, smoothing it away from her face behind her ears. Emboldened, Rebecca took more of him in her mouth. She didn’t take much because he was fairly big, caressing the underside with her tongue, sucking him as she moved her mouth up and down. One hand moved to cup his balls. “Oh God, Becca. That’s good.” She did enjoy him calling her Becca—it sent a shiver down her spine. He was the only one to call her by that name, and the way he said it sounded so sexy. She let go of him to take a moment to lick her lips, tasting his saltiness and smiled. “So you don’t want me to stop, then?” “God no, don’t you dare.” She giggled and then laughed even more when his hands came up to press her head firmly. She shook her head as best she could. “Uhuh. I’m in charge.” “You are so going to be punished later.” “Promises, promises,” she said. Then she started—had she really exclaimed delight at the thought of being spanked, or any other type of punishment? That thought flittered away as Jon pleaded with her. “Sweetheart, please!” She grinned and took him back into her mouth, sucking him harder, taking more of his cock with each suck. She could feel him trying hard not to thrust into her, as his fingers tightened in her scalp. It wasn’t long before he trembled and cried, “Shit. I’m coming. If you don’t want to swallow it, grab that shirt by you.”

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Ignoring the shirt, she continued. She wanted to swallow his cum, although she choked a little as she did, the force of the ejaculation being more than she was expecting. His breathing calming, Jon pulled out of her mouth and crouched down, cupping her face. “Thank you. Despite being a novice, that was fantastic. Are you all right?” Rebecca went mush at this concern and nodded, smiling. She certainly was okay. It had been amazing to be in control, but more than anything to touch him so intimately like that. She realized her feelings were running away from her tightly held control, and she wasn’t sure if she was bothered or not. **** Smoothing her hair behind her ears again, Jon ran his knuckles down her flushed cheeks and rubbed a thumb over her bottom lip. Watching this gorgeous, brave, determined woman in front of him had injected new life to his cock. As for the way she looked at him, he’d almost think she was in love with him. In fact, his feelings were confusing the hell out of him, too. He then reached a hand around her back and another under her legs and lifted her onto the bed. She relaxed back, her hands by her head, her legs apart in anticipation. She probably wasn’t aware that her pose was totally submissive. And yet, Jon knew this was out of choice. She would never do anything she didn’t want to do, and that made this all the more attractive. Groaning, he laid down on the bed next to her, a slightly trembling hand reaching to her breast. He went slowly, as he didn’t want a repeat of last night. He rubbed a thumb over the tip of her breast. It was Rebecca’s turn to groan.

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Jon leaned his head forward and took her nipple in his mouth, swirling a tongue around the tip. Her groan turned to moans. Her hands fluttered by her head as if she didn’t know what to do with them. Instead, she clutched the pillow. His hand slid down her body toward her pussy, rubbing a thumb over her clit. The moans were now whimpers. He was tempted to join her in her moans. His cock amazingly was fully erect again and aching. He grinned as her legs widened, unconsciously inviting him. This wasn’t part of the deal, but no way could he resist. Moving between her legs, he grasped her hips in his hands. He stopped momentarily to look at her face, just in case she didn’t want this. Her eyes shone with desire. He smiled and pushed forward into her wet pussy, her legs coming up to encircle his waist as he covered her body with his. Both cried out at his entry. He pulled out slightly and thrust back. She was so tight, he was concerned he was hurting her. A glance at her face, her head tilted back in ecstasy, her mouth open as she panted heavily, told him he was not hurting her. Her hands clutched the pillow tightly as his thrusts got faster, her sheath clasping his cock like a tight glove. Rebecca started screaming his name. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders as her climax hit her. “Christ.” Jon’s own climax followed, the intensity of it driving through his body like he had been hit by a truck. He had never felt anything like it before. It was a few minutes before either could gain enough breath to speak, let alone move. Then Jon raised his body from Rebecca’s as he ran a gentle hand over her cooling skin. “Jesus, Becca, that was amazing.” She smiled and ran her own hand over his pecs. “It certainly was amazing.” Her voice was husky from screaming. She joked, “You realize you’ve lost the challenge.” Jon swiftly sat up. “What do you mean?”

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Rebecca looked at him worried and sat up, too. “Well, we agreed no penetration, remember.” “So?” He stiffened. Had she allowed him to do this just to win the challenge? He took cover in his arrogant Dom persona. She was looking really worried now. “So, you just penetrated me with your cock.” “You didn’t stop me.” “An agreement is an agreement.” Jon stood up, grabbing a robe to fling on, exceedingly angry at her comment. When he turned back to her, tying his robe tightly, his face was a stone mask. “Fine—I lost. In that case, the challenge is over. You won, Rebecca. E-mail me the name of your charity after you’ve gone.” At that, he stormed out of the room, pulling the door open so roughly it crashed against the doorframe. **** A rush of tears came. She blinked rapidly to stop them falling. Damn him. She had only been teasing, although part of her couldn’t resist being competitive. But if he was going to act all stupid, she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Realizing she had no idea where her clothes were and not wishing to enter the bedroom she used yesterday in case he was in there, she grabbed his shirt and fled down the stairs, stopping to retrieve her bag she found was still by the front door. Tears finally forced her to pull off the road a short distance away. She hit the steering wheel in anger. “Damn him, damn him, damn him.” Then, her head on her arms, she sobbed uncontrollably against the steering wheel. It was sometime later before she had calmed enough to don some jeans from her bag and continue the drive home. If she never saw him again, she would be the happiest woman on earth.

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Chapter Ten Ellie was fed up. She stormed into her apartment, flinging her bag forcibly onto the chair. It refused to stay put and bounced onto the floor, her stuff falling out in a clattering heap on the floor. “Ahhh!” she exclaimed, angry at the bag but mostly at her own stupidity. “Stay where you are put.” She replaced it on the chair firmly. Gathering the other important items a woman has to carry in her handbag, she stuffed them back in. Finally grabbing hold of her wallet, she jammed it into the bag with the rest. “And you stay with the bag. I don’t want any argument.” She giggled at her silliness. It wasn’t the bag she was annoyed with but rather her best friend and her brother. She had just finished work for the day, and Rebecca had spent the whole time moaning about how much she missed Jon and would do anything to get back with him, even consider becoming submissive. But she didn’t want him to know she felt that way, as he would just be unbearably smug. This had been a daily ritual in the past two weeks since the ill-fated weekend. Ellie was going to have her committed—to a prison for disturbing her peace! Jon, meanwhile, had spent all of yesterday evening crying about how much he missed Rebecca. He even said he would consider giving up the Dominant lifestyle to be with her, except he knew she would come out with one of her ball-crunching, sarcastic put-downs. He’d gone from anger at Rebecca to despair he’d never see her again. Now him, Ellie decided, she was going to have committed to a hospital. She was ready to bang their heads together. Neither would let her tell the other how they felt, on threat of death or torture of Flopsy, her

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fluffy toy rabbit she had had since childhood, which was even worse. She tried hinting that one of them could be missing the other, only to be told she had her head up her backside. However, she could stand it no more. The question was who to tell first and how to broach it—and where would be considered a suitable hideaway for Flopsy? Looking back at the bag again, she grinned as an idea began to form, involving a bag, a wallet, and making them stay in the same place at the same time together… **** Two days later Rebecca and Ellie had just arrived back at Ellie’s apartment. Rebecca stood rigid and white-faced as she saw Jon rising to his feet in the lounge, as surprised as she. “What …” he cried in shock. “Ellie…” Rebecca started to say at the same time, as her friend thrust an envelope in her hand. Before either of the irate people in the room could restrain her, Ellie turned and slammed the door after her. Swiftly turning the key, she locked the two people inside. Jon raced past Rebecca, who was stunned into immobility, staring at the envelope in her hands. He tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. He turned the handle more violently and yanked it back and forth. “Ellie!” he yelled, and for good measure, he slammed the door with his palm. “Typical man—tries violence even though he knows it won’t work,” declared Rebecca from behind him. He turned to glare at her. “You try it then.” She sauntered past him, her immobility gone. She shouted through the door, “Ellie. Open up!” Nothing happened. “Open up now, or the rabbit is history.”

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“Read the letter. It explains everything. And you can’t get at Flopsy. He is in safe hands. See you later,” came a muffled voice through the door. “Ellie, come back here this instant. Shit,” she swore, as she heard receding footsteps and realized her method hadn’t worked. “Typical woman—talks to a door.” “Oh, ha-ha.” “Come on then, let’s see what’s in the letter,” demanded Jon, reaching out. She thrust the letter behind her back. “Uh-uh. She gave it to me. Anyway”—she suddenly grasped something—“how did you get in here—do you have a key?” “No, I do not. Stop looking at me suspiciously. I haven’t set this up. Ellie invited me over and then suddenly said she had to go out for some milk. That was half an hour ago, and I was about to leave. I tried her phone, but she left it here.” “Hmm.” Rebecca was unconvinced. She stared at him. God, he looked gorgeous. His shirtsleeves were folded back, revealing his muscular forearms. She swallowed and looked down at the envelope. What was she supposed to do with it? Her mind had gone mush looking at Jon. **** Jon meanwhile decided he had died and gone to heaven from the look Rebecca had just given him. Either that or he was going insane— most likely the latter. He hoped he hadn’t looked at her the same way, as his libido had gone into over drive when he saw her come into the room, wearing an unusually tight dress which hugged her stunning curves. “Are you going to open that or not?” “Oh yes.” She swiftly opened the envelope, scanned the letter, and then went deathly pale, her hand shaking as she held the letter.

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Worried, Jon exclaimed, “What? What is it? Christ, Becca tell me!” “Um—oh God. It says I have to read this out loud to both of us. If she ever lets us out of here, I am so going to kill her.” “For God’s sake, what does it say?” He was really concerned now and itching to grab the letter from her hand. She read, “Dear Becks & Jon, I love you two dearly, but you are both total and utter idiots—I really mean pillocks of the first-class kind. You both gave me strict instructions not to tell the other what you have told me, but you need your heads banging together, so I have decided the only way is to force you to confront each other. So Jon, you’re first. Tell Becks how you feel about her.” Jon backed away. “Absolutely no way, that sister of mine is nuts.” He ran a hand through his hair and turned away. It wasn’t that he was scared to admit his feelings. Not really. It was Rebecca’s reaction he was scared of. Rebecca chuckled. Jon looked back at her curiously, but she continued to read, “I knew you couldn’t do it, brother of mine. You might be a Dom, but you are a scaredy cat underneath.” Moving forward, he grabbed the letter from her hand. It did indeed say that. He scowled at the smirking girl. “Stop being scornful. Have you read the next bit?” She frowned and went to take the letter back, pulling on his arm. “Oh no. It’s my turn.” He moved the letter out of her reach and read,

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“So, Becks—best friend extraordinaire—show me you are not just as scared. You be the first to admit to Jon your feelings!” She blanched. He raised an eyebrow in question. She shook her head and stepped back. He continued reading, “I love you both dearly, but I am ringing the asylum because you are such idiots. Okay. Here’s the deal. You are both in lo—” Jon stopped mid-sentence. There was no way he could complete that word. Thrusting the letter back at Rebecca, he said, “You read it.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, then read it and continued to read it, despite flushing a bright red. She staunchly kept her head down, refusing to look him in the eye. “You are both in love with each other and have been since your weekend together, although I have had my thoughts over the years that you were both more interested in each other than you would acknowledge. But now you both feel the other would be downright sarcastic if either were to confess. So now you know. Admit to it.” “It’s not love I feel, just lust.” Rebecca was the first to talk, trying to get the upper hand. “So that’s all there is,” she declared firmly. As she said this, she quickly screwed the letter into a ball. Unconvinced, Jon reached down to grab the screwed up letter from the floor where she threw it. “Hey,” she protested vehemently, clearly not wanting him to read any more. He ignored her and read, “By now you are pretending it’s not love. Stop gasping. I know both of you well. And I know it is love you both feel for each other because firstly, you have both expressed extreme concern about how the other felt after the weekend, which only people who care deeply

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would feel. And secondly, Becks, I couldn’t tell you that Jon feels as sick as a dog…” Jon stuttered in his recitation. “…and wished he had taken things more slowly, and thirdly, Jon, Becks has spent nearly every day since crying on my shoulder wishing she hadn’t said those damning words which spoiled the weekend.” He glanced in her direction and she shrugged. “The other reason I know it is love—and this is the dealbreaker—is that both of you told me that you would be prepared to take up the other’s lifestyle. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is! So the only way out of this apartment is to admit you love each other and that I can be your bridesmaid. Love you both, Ellie” Jon dropped the letter, finished. “You want to be submissive?” he asked hesitantly, though, actually, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to do that. She cleared her throat and looked at him in despair. “Um—oh God! I don’t know. I loved a lot of what we did, particularly in bed. But, Jon, I’m not sure I could be submissive all the time like you want, and do everything you tell me and not say what I think. I’m sorry.” She started to cry. “Thank God.” “What!” He moved closer and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his palm. “I don’t want a full-time submissive. They’re boring. I liked it when you challenged me, argued with me, confronted me. It made me feel alive, exhilarated. And when you did submit, I knew you were really

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submitting and not just doing it to go along with me, and it was fantastic. You are everything I have ever dreamed of having in a partner.” “Oh.” “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say!” Smiling, she nodded. Her eyes glittered with tears—happy tears. “Good God. I’ve finally got you to shut up. It only took some sappy words.” She laughed and placed her head on his chest. “So if I follow them up with some more sappy words like ‘marry me,’ you’re going to never say another word ever again?” Reaching her arms around his waist, she leaned into his body. “I thought you liked arguing with me? It’s difficult to do that and be quiet.” She laughed teasingly. “Hmm, true. I also like it when you submit, so I expect the answer ‘yes’ to my previous question.” “What question was that again?” He pulled her tight against his body so she could feel his erection, and grinned. “Stop pretending I didn’t just ask you the most important question of your life. You are going to marry me, and that’s that.” “And if I say no instead of yes?” she queried slyly with a teasing grin. “I’m not asking you, just telling you, but any attempt to resist will mean a punishment,” he threatened. “You mean I get to try out a flogger this time?” she asked eagerly. He groaned. He had created a witch, a witch who was going to give him gray hairs. He didn’t answer her, just kissed her into submission.

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Epilogue One month later Rebecca was curled up next to Jon in the lounge. She’d moved into his place. His arm was around her body, gently stroking her back while they listened to some music. His hand moved up to her neck where he idly fondled the red velvet ribbon he had given her. He had promised her a proper collar when they married. They had nearly been together one month since the date of Ellie’s intervention and, in fact, their anniversary was that week. She sat up, suddenly biting her bottom lip, looking excited. “What’s up?” Jon frowned. He was beginning to get to know her various expressions, and this one worried him, as it meant he wasn’t going to be in control. But when had he been in control in this last month? Rebecca’s intrusion into his life had been like a whirlwind. Yes, she submitted to him, but only when she wanted to! He smiled ruefully to himself. “I’ve had an idea.” “Oh God!” he groaned. She thumped his arm playfully. “Ow. I thought I was getting a submissive?” “Stop it, or I won’t tell you my idea.” She continued at his grin, “Well, as it is our one-month anniversary coming up, I thought we should do something special.” “Like what?” “How about we do something we haven’t done before?” “I repeat myself—like what?” He laughed.

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“Flogging.” Jon was stunned. Never would he have expected Rebecca to come out with that. Dinner at a posh restaurant, travel somewhere new, even skydiving, but not flogging. They had done various sexual activities, but flogging was something he had been reluctant to try, as he didn’t want to scare her off as their relationship was still so new. He was quiet so long, Rebecca sounded uncertain “You don’t want to.” “Sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I just wanted to take things slowly. However, I like your idea. And I propose licking food from your body.” Rebecca groaned, clearly remembering Jon’s experience eating Chinese take-out off a woman tied to a table. “Stop groaning. If you are allowed to have flogging, then I want this.” “Okay, then I also want nipple clamps.” Jon looked shocked. “Really?” “Yeah, I want to give them a try.” “Sucking my cock from above.” At Rebecca’s confusion, he continued, “That’s my next one. Any more?” She laughed. “I think that is more than enough!” **** In preparation for the forthcoming evening, Rebecca went shopping with Ellie, who was surprised when they went to a sexy lingerie shop. Rebecca just grinned and strode inside, going straight to the basque section. “Oh my God, Becks. You’re not going to buy one of those?” “And why not?” “Well, because I never would have taken you for someone who buys sexy undies. Well, not the old Becks!”

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“Actually, I’ve discovered how liberating it is for a woman. She can use all her womanly wiles to tease a man unmercifully. Wearing this,” she said, holding up a black basque with red ribbons. “I’m going to drive Jon insane as I strip very slowly, gradually revealing what I’m wearing. He thinks he’s in charge, but he isn’t really!” “My God. You have turned into a vamp.” She grinned and bought the chosen basque. **** When Rebecca did her striptease that evening in the bedroom, it looked like she hadn’t really bothered with her attire, as she was wearing a gray trouser suit with buttoned-up black blouse. The only thing that was remotely sexy about her appearance were mile-high heels and long, dangly earrings. Jon looked suspicious when she instructed him to sit in the chair as she went to put some music on. As she started to unbutton the blouse, she could tell when he got his first inkling of the outfit underneath by his grin. By the time she turned her back to him to shimmy down her trousers, he looked decidedly aroused. He finally had enough, as she flung her discarded clothes onto the dressing table, all the while wiggling her bum and smiling seductively at him over her shoulder. He jumped up and moved purposefully toward her. Rebecca giggled and backed away, holding her hands up to stop him. It didn’t work. He grabbed her quickly in his arms. “Don’t you dare move,” he commanded. “Actually, do move. I want you to remove that ridiculous concoction of lace and ribbons. In fact, remove everything and then stand in front of the bed.” She started to comply slowly but then scrambled to pull everything off when he shucked his jacket and took out a flogger and nipple clamps from a drawer.

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Grinning at her enthusiasm, he laid the items on the bed, and taking hold of her arms, he tied them to the bedposts. “It’s not hurting, is it?” Rebecca shook her head. She couldn’t stop grinning, although this soon turned to a scowl as he put the clamps on, not aware they could be so painful. He leaned into her back, his mouth against her ear. “Breathe through the pain. It will ease, I promise. Remember, you have a safe word anytime it gets too much.” It did ease—a bit. Actually, the sensation of wearing them was rather arousing. He then took hold of the flogger and moved back. Rebecca’s heart started racing as she braced herself for a hit but instead felt something tickling her back. “Ahh.” Jon grinned. “The flogger has several uses, my love. Not just for pain.” He then trailed the flogger down her body before taking hold of the end to probe her rim with the handle end before pressing it firmly in her crease so it touched her clit. This caused her to lift up on her toes with a gasp. He then took hold of the handle and swung the tails against her buttocks. Her gasp turned louder, but she didn’t give any safe words. He continued hitting slightly harder, then again, this time against her thighs. “Shit.” “Are you okay, Becca? Any safe words?” he asked. “No, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting it to be like that.” “I am going to give you ten strikes altogether. You have had three. Count them down for me.” She did as he asked. The strikes caused varying degrees of pain, depending on where he hit. Then on number eight, he swung it between her legs, hitting the insides of her thighs. She didn’t like being hit there. “Jeez!” She started panting and then became aware that he was waiting for her to state the number. She did. Number nine was between her legs again but not so brutal, the ends flicking up to

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hit her clit. “Holy cow.” That one was intense, arousal-causing intense, not the painful kind. “Last one.” Taking a deep breath, she awaited the final strike. It landed on her clit again, causing her to cry out even louder and start to shake. Jon threw down the flogger and untied her quickly, cradling her body in his arms from behind. “Well, how was it?” She took a moment to regain her senses. “Indescribable. Wonderful, intense, painful but arousing.” He laughed. “Yeah, that’s not describing it!” As she giggled, he lifted her gently in his arms and laid her down on the bed. **** “Are you ready to suck my cock now?” He waited for her to nod. He decided the best method to avoid her fear would be to give her the clamps and flogging first, so her mind was on the pleasure/pain sensation she had just received. He helped her move so her head was off the side of the bed before taking off the rest of his clothes. His cock was very hard. Slowly moving toward her, he held her head in his palms and gently nudged her lips with his cock. She opened her lips and took him in. Checking to see she was okay, he pushed in a little. “Just suck the end, sweetheart. I’m not going to push in any further.” She did as he asked, licking the underside of his cock like she had done previously. The fear she had had before didn’t resurface, probably because she now had total trust in him. Her sucking got harder, and then he moved away. She frowned. “Have I done something wrong?” “Sorry. I’m so aroused I’m going to come in a moment unless we stop.” Rebecca laughed and moved to lie on her side, facing him. “So what’s left?” She groaned when he pulled a bottle of maple syrup out

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of a bag. “It’s a good thing I covered the bed with a tablecloth. So where exactly are you going to put that?” He pushed her onto her back and straddled her. “Well, first we need to remove these clamps. It might be painful, but they will need a lot of soothing attention—which is where the syrup comes in.” She laughed as she began to get the picture. She winced as he removed the clamps, but then moaned as he poured the syrup over her nipples and settled down to lick them, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking, then moving onto the next nipple. “Delicious.” “Just don’t take a bite!” He responded by nibbling very gently around her breast. “Ow, stop that.” She giggled, pushing at his head. He grinned and licked the last few drops of syrup and moved off her body. “Now the other area of your body that needs attention is your backside, so turn over on all fours. Come on, stop prevaricating, Rebecca.” It was unusual for him to call her by her full name—in fact, he only did it these days when he was trying to be masterful, so she poked her tongue out at him. “Unless you want to use that tongue for other purposes, put it away.” She laughed and turned over as requested. When she was in place, Jon squeezed the syrup over her backside before leaning in to lick. His tongue rasped over her skin, dipping in to catch any drips falling down her thighs. He felt her shiver as he touched sensitive areas hit by the flogger. By the time he was finished, both were breathing very heavily. “Hmm, we’ve never had sex in this position before, have we?” Looking around at him as he knelt, his cock probing her pussy from behind, she trembled. “Well, don’t stop now.” A spank followed. He did it softly to avoid more pain. “Remember who’s the Dom here. You have a deplorable tendency to take control. I can see more floggings are needed in the future.”

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“Yes, Sir, Master, Dom.” She laughed and showed him just who was in charge by pulling away from him. She giggled louder when he pulled her back against him with a growl and proceeded to enter her. His intention had been to take it very slowly to regain some ground in the control issue, but as he slid into her very wet pussy, he found he couldn’t. His need was too great, and he thrust in to the hilt. She mewled when he withdrew, except that he thrust in again very quickly. Each thrust caused his balls to slap against her hot buttocks. When he reached around to rub her clit, she was trembling violently. She thrust back against him, her arms shaking as she did. “Oh God, Jon, please let me come.” He grinned. It had taken awhile to get her to ask permission to come. He increased the speed of his thrusts and felt the familiar tightening of his balls. “Christ, Becca, come for me, now.” As she did, he felt her passage milking him, and his own climax caused him to echo her screams. After a moment, he reached down to pull her back into his arms, still lodged inside her. “You know,” he started to say huskily, “I’ve realized how much better sex is when you are in love with that person.” “You’ve only just noted this?” she responded, equally croakily. “I’ve known it for the past month.” He reached up to tug the velvet collar she was still wearing. “Stop trying to compete with me, minx. I’m not taking any more challenges. The last one did me in.” She laughed and tilted her head back to kiss him. “I wouldn’t dream of challenging you. You’re the Master, after all.” Jon wasn’t sure if it wasn’t him who had just submitted. But then, it actually didn’t matter, as he had the type of submissive he really wanted all along.

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Jennifer Denys

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Jennifer is English and lives in a lovely historical city in the UK. Other than writing, her interests include reading (Naturally! She always has at least one book on the go, if not one by her bed, one by the bath, and one in the lounge.), all things historical, including genealogy, which she has done for many, many years, watching films (particularly sci-fi), gardening, jigsaw puzzles, and walking. She lives with her pet rabbit who is thoroughly spoilt. Jennifer says she wants to come back as her own rabbit in the next life—unfortunately that would mean she still needs to be alive herself. Maybe there is a timetravel story there… Jennifer would love to hear from her readers. E-mail her at [email protected] or visit her blog: http://jenniferdenys.blogspot.com.

Also by Jennifer Denys Siren Classic: Friends and Acquaintances 1: Just Good Friends

Available at BOOKSTRAND.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com