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BDSM curious, Georgia aka Red, attends a lunch meeting of the Rocky Road Social Club where she meets a dom who introduces himself as Black. Tall, caramel-skinned and truly gorgeous, Black draws Red in with his commanding presence.
After one dinner together, Red agrees to explore a weekend as Black’s sub. He pushes her to the limits of pain, pleasure and beyond. Though she delights in his firm hand and even firmer lash, when Black proposes a more permanent arrangement, Red wonders if she’s ready to submit―body and soul―to the man who dominates her blackest desires.
At 8:55, I knocked on his door. I heard him moving inside the house, but he didn’t answer.
A couple minutes passed and still I stood on his porch, the crickets chirping in the cooling night air. Maybe he hadn’t heard my knock. I rang the doorbell.
Another minute or so passed and every second that ticked by left me feeling foolish. Why was he making me wait? Finally out of patience, I fished my cell phone out of my purse and hit the auto-dial for his number.
As soon as Black jerked open the door, I knew I’d made a mistake. His lips downturned, his eyes narrowed, he folded his arms over his chest.
The intensity of his stare unnerved me.
Fixing my gaze on the ground, I offered an explanation though he hadn’t demanded one, “I wanted to be sure I was on time.”
“But you aren’t on time, you’re early. Nine o’clock means nine o’clock.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Go into the dining room and sit.” He moved aside to let me pass. “To your left.”
Hurrying to do as instructed, I didn’t have much time to take in the decor of the house. Once I’d taken a seat, I studied the austerity of the mission-style dining table, chairs and china cabinet. One massive photo―at least four feet by six feet―hung on an otherwise bare wall. It depicted a close-up of a fig sliced in half. So suggestive of female genitalia was the imagery that I found myself averting my eyes, sneaking furtive glances. Every time I dared to look at it for more than a couple of seconds, my cheeks burned and butterflies flitted around my stomach.
The door clicked shut and I heard his footsteps head in the opposite direction. Then he returned, his cell phone in hand. Drawing his finger across the screen, he turned it so I could read. The glowing display showed his call log.
“Read the most recent entry,” he said.
“It says Red.”
“And is it an incoming call or an outgoing one?”
“Incoming,” I mumbled. I knew exactly what I’d done wrong.
“I said never to call me.” He grabbed me by the hair and I flinched more out of surprise than pain. He wasn’t pulling all that hard…yet.
“I’m sorry.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, excited by the control he exerted over me.
Setting the phone aside, he moved behind me. Leaning down, he let his lips brush past my ear. I could feel his breath on my cheek and neck. Inhaling his cologne, I closed my eyes, my heartbeat quickening.
“You don’t listen.” He tightened his grasp, shaking me a little. I gasped, the pain sharper now, the throbbing of my pussy radiating throughout my body.
I didn’t reply, struggling to suppress a smile though I couldn’t figure out just why I felt like grinning.
“What’s funny?” He tugged at my hair.
The tug hurt so much my eyes watered. “Nothing.”
“Say it. Say, ‘I don’t listen’.” His hand my head held back, forcing me to make eye contact.
“I―” My voice cracked, arousal and agony gripping my throat. “I don’t listen.”
“Do you need me to make you?”
“Yes…please.” My legs trembled, my pussy quivering at the thought of what he would do to punish me.
Pulling me up and bending me over the table, he pressed my cheek to the cool surface, hand still tangled in my hair, but he’d eased up on the agonizing hold.
The skirt I’d taken so much care to pick out wound up crumpled around my waist. He ripped off my panties then caressed the swell of my ass. I heard the jangle of his belt buckle and the whoosh of it sliding out of his belt loops. Oh God, he was going to―
I cried out and squirmed, the initial sting so intense I could hardly stand it, but he held me down.
The belt smacked against my ass, heat spreading over the entire cheek. I yelped and whimpered. A sharp burning sensation ran along the junction of my buttock and my thigh and I was sure he’d given me a welt. The thought turned me on to no end. I was bare-assed, splayed out across a table and one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever met was punishing me. Oh yes, I wanted more.
Another crack of the belt and I could feel my juices wetting my pussy lips. The pain transformed from an unpleasant sensation to the heat of a lover’s touch. Instead of a cry of objection, I moaned, writhing against the table.
“You like that?” He growled the words, his voice even deeper than usual.
“Yes.” I arched my back, thrusting my ass toward him.
“Yes, what?” He caught me by the hair again.
He whipped my buttock again and I called out, the skin raw now. My cunt contracted, so swollen and wet he could have easily slid inside me, no more foreplay needed, but I knew he wouldn’t give me that kind of pleasure yet. I hadn’t earned it.
“Your pretty little ass is the most lovely shade of red.”
I felt him drop to his knees, running his tongue over the areas that stung the most. A hiss escaped me. Parting my labia with two fingers, he swiped at my slit.
“You’re so wet. You’re going to be fun to play with.”
I panted, desperate that he continue my training, but instead he righted my skirt and helped me up. Swiping the finger coated in my cream over my lips, he moved in for a kiss. His tongue flicked at the musky fluid then plunged inside my mouth. I inhaled the scent of pussy mingled with his cologne unable to get enough of the heady scent.
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