Velvet Submission Read online

  He sat but didn't take his eyes from her face. It was a direct show of defiance, one that he was hoping would pay off.

  Her luscious ass swayed as she walked across the room. She stood in front of a large cabinet for a long time, deliberating over the contents before removing several items. Gregori was dying to know what she had planned for him; his dick throbbed relentlessly along with the beat of his heart. Sauntering back, she laid her toys on the bench next to him.

  Two cock rings that looked far too small. A baby blue butt plug that looked far too big. A flogger. A crop.

  "Stand up and remove your clothes, sugar." Her words snapped his attention firmly back where it belonged: on her. Gregori stood slowly and shrugged his shirt over his shoulders. He couldn't entirely hide his smile when her breath caught at the sight of his chest, and her narrowed eyes showed that she wasn't happy he'd seen her reaction. He dropped his hands to his fly and popped each button open with deliberate slowness. Pulling the sides of his jeans away from his body, he slid his fingers inside and leisurely pushed the worn denim down his legs.

  Her eyes widened a fraction as they roamed over his naked form, zeroing in on his rigid cock. Her audible swallow only added to his pleasure.

  "Spread you legs." That slow, lazy drawl had gone husky with want. He moved his feet wide. "Arms up and behind your head, Sug." He laced his hands behind his head willingly. Her eyes coasted over him like a caress. In their depths, he found the knowledge that she liked what she saw. He was hers, displayed before her, his dick hard, his body ready for whatever she had in store for him.

  Her delicate hand grabbed an item off the bench. Gregori moaned when she brought up the cock rings. She took each one into her mouth, wetting the tight rubber circles with her pink tongue. Fuck, but he wanted to feel that mouth on him. Pulling one ring from between her pink lips she grasped his cock with one hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his girth. With the other she rolled the ring down his length, Gregori knew he was larger than average and the ring was made for a smaller member. The fit was painfully tight, and it sent shivers of heat down his spine. Her nails slowly moved back up the length of his shaft. They were natural and not overly long but felt exquisitely sharp against his violently sensitive dick. Gregori closed his eyes against the sight and gave in to the bliss of her nails dragging lightly along his hard flesh.

  When she reached the tip she placed the other ring under his crown; the fit was tighter still. It dragged a groan from him, the combination of pleasure and pain. Megan's eyes, Megan's hands, the cold, unyielding rubber of the rings. He opened his eyes and looked down. The ring dug dramatically into the ruddy skin of his cock, the pale blue color a striking contrast to the nearly purple crown, which was weeping pre-cum.

  "Very good, Sug. Now stand behind the chair and bend over."

  *

  Megan licked her lips as Gregori followed her instructions and bent over the low-backed chair she'd indicated. He presented himself like an experienced sub would, bent at the waist, his thighs spread, his wide back arched. He was a living art exhibit of the beauty of the male form, and Megan wanted him. She took a deep breath to steady herself. She was going to teach him a lesson for his breach in manners, and damned if she wasn't going to punish him for making her want something she couldn't have.

  She picked up the crop and moved in front of him, resting one knee on the seat of the chair. He kept his eyes down now, finally, but that gorgeous back flexed as he took a deep breath. She wondered if he was scenting her, drinking in her arousal. The thought sent a surge of heat through her, and that just pissed her off even more. Placing the tip of the crop under his chin, she raised his face.

  "You're much too experienced, Sug, to have so blatantly broken the rules and attempted to leave me before I dismissed you."

  "If you do not intend to use me, I am not required to stay." His words were bold, but his breathing was labored. He couldn't hide his excitement from Megan if he tried.

  "That may be true, but you also didn't say your safe word. That is the only way to free yourself from my company."

  "You did not give me one."

  That was true, she realized. She hadn't given him one because she'd had no intention of using him.

  "All right, then, Sugar. What is you safe word?"

  His lips crooked up in a slight smile, and she felt her anger flare. "I leave that up to you, my Mistress." Gregori was taking pleasure in disrespecting her, in pushing her. The big, gorgeous Russian bastard was trying to top her from the bottom.

  "Fine," she snapped. "Your safe word is no." Simple enough and before this night was through he would be screaming it to the rafters. Megan was furious, with Gregori, but more so with herself. She did not mix sex and her activities as a Domme, and she was beyond pissed that Gregori was forcing her in that direction. But she was even angrier with herself because she was letting him.

  She thought, again, of the way Gregori described being Dommed, of trust and surrender. For her, that's what lovemaking was; a complete surrender of control, losing yourself in another person. The exact opposite of what she wanted when in her Mistress Megan persona.

  The iron control her father had wielded over her for the first half of her life had been almost more than she could bear. Megan loved her daddy with all her heart, and she knew all his demands on her had been out of love. That hadn't kept her from feeling suffocated by his expectations. Beauregard Jamison had seen his actions as protecting his baby girl. Megan never had seen it as anything more than Daddy controlling her.

  Shaking her head, she moved back to the bench to retrieve the plug and a bottle of lube. Facing him again she held up the device, "Can you take this, Sug?"

  His silver eyes took in the plug, closed, and then opened again. "Baby blue. You expect to fuck me with a baby blue plug."

  "I wasn't asking about the color, darlin'. I was asking about the size. It's not for a beginner. Can you take it?" She had no doubt he could, but she needed to make sure. Gregori might have craved pain at her hands, but she doubted he craved actual damage.

  Those burning silver eyes narrowed, but all he said was, "It's blue."

  "I don't hear you saying no, Sug." She waited, but his lips remained clamped together. Megan smiled and moved behind him.

  "Open yourself up for me." Megan bit back a moan of appreciation as his large hands grasped his muscled cheeks and pulled them apart. She tipped the bottle of lube, and let a slow stream out to pool in the tempting little dent right at the top of his cheeks. He stayed perfectly still, but his skin prickled, the tiny, silky hair standing on end.

  She placed her finger in the lube and drew it down to his tight hole. The muscles of his thighs went tight as she skimmed over the tightly furled entrance, skimming along his crack to gather up more lube and tease sensitive nerve endings. Moving back down, she rimmed the tight ring with her finger, applying more lube and slowly working the tip just inside of him. His knuckles went white as his fingers dug into his muscular cheeks. He shifted back, toward her hand, and she probed the tiniest bit deeper. She didn't breach the tight muscle there, instead she pulled out and slowly lubed up the plug.

  Waiting was just as much a punishment as any taste of the whip, and Megan was determined to punish Gregori. So she took her time, wiping her hands on a soft cloth, watching the shift and flex of his muscles under all that gorgeous pale golden skin, drinking in his tension and anticipation.

  Finally, the desire to see him arching that broad back in an agony of pleasure was too much for her to resist. She placed the well-lubricated tip of the plug against his opening, and settled it firmly in place.

  "Breathe into it, Sug, and push back for me." He made a low sound and pressed back, taking the tip past the tough ring of muscles guarding his entrance. Taking her time to draw out the burn, Megan twisted the plug in a circle then pushed more. Gregori let out a long guttural moan as she forced him to stretch and open, finally seating it fully home.

  She stepped back and wiped her h
ands again. He made a beautiful sight, bent over and filled up, awaiting her pleasure. His thighs were tight, his back expanded roughly with his ragged breaths and she knew he was waiting for her next move. She'd seen it before with many of her subs. A man could find great pleasure in being filled; it didn't matter if he was gay or straight. The sensitive nerve endings and that special spot deep inside of him guaranteed an orgasm that would rock his world. It was the rare and confident man who would admit he wanted, needed that kind of pleasure without thinking it meant there was something defective about him.

  Megan seized her flogger. She trailed the ends over the small of his back, and goose bumps rose on his flesh.

  "Tell me how it feels," she murmured, trailing the tails of the flogger lightly up the line of his spine. He shivered in response.

  "It burns." His voice was deeper, almost guttural; his accent more pronounced than she'd ever heard it.

  "You enjoy the pain." It wasn't a question.

  "Yes Mistress, I like the pain." Megan shivered. Every time he said Mistress in his deep, slightly accented voice she felt it deep between her thighs, deep in her core.

  "Why?" The question slipped out, Megan hadn't intended to ask. She never asked why a submissive liked certain things; their motivation didn't concern her. But there was something behind those cloudy silver eyes that called to her, and she wanted to know what it was.

  "I knew pain when I was growing up in Russia. Everyday there was pain either physical or mental. That didn't stop when my mother brought us here, only changed." He shifted restlessly, unconsciously working the plug against nerves she knew must be screaming, muscles moving smoothly under his velvety skin.

  "The memories were eating me up inside. I was already angry, violent, but that anger was growing to be out of my control. So I made the decision to turn the pain around. I used it for pleasure, replaced the ugly memories with memories of beauty." He turned his head meeting Megan's eyes with his own. "I had no control of my pain as a child, and it nearly destroyed me. Now I have that control, and the pain recreates me."

  He looked away from her then and Megan stood, too stunned to even move. She'd never have thought, had never considered, that a submissive could seize control of their world by giving over control of their body. In just a few words, Gregori had shown her it was possible. He submitted for the same reason she dominated. Control. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out what he'd just told her.

  Her anger returned, redoubled. She refused to acknowledge that beneath the anger was a soul-deep fear. No, she was angry at him because he provoked her, made her lose her self discipline. She should be spanking him, not aching to wrap herself around him and promise him he'd never have to go back to that cold, dark place again.

  Dammit, she would not let him get under her skin like this. The familiar stress crawled into her shoulders. She raised the flogger and stuck him across his ass, hard and without warning. He arched in shock, his beautiful body curved in pain as the leather tails painted bright red stripes along his backside. She struck again, and watched that lovely golden skin flush pink, then red. She moved her blows to the back of his thighs, the tails of the flogger slipping between them and tapping at his tight sac.

  A string of Russian came out from between his lips in a low hiss. Megan hit her stride with the even slaps of her flogger. Sweat gleamed along his spine and his hips undulated, his thighs spreading wider.

  "Stand up," she snapped. "Face me." He immediately stood to his full height and turned. His eyes burned under hooded lids, his breath came in short pants. Megan dragged the nails of one hand down his chest, leaving vivid pink lines and flicking one of his flat nipples on her way to his stomach. His moan vibrated over her skin, wrapping her in a warm cocoon of want and need. She dragged her nails down further still then grasped his cock in her fist. His eyes widened and he fell slightly back to lean against the chair.

  He was too big to wrap her fingers around; thick and solid and hers, weeping the clear liquid of his pre-cum. She gathered the moisture on her thumb and forefinger and smeared it around the sensitive ridge of his cockhead, tracing her nail around the ring there and smiled as his gut-deep groan went high and breathless. Pausing, she waited until his eyes were on her and then brought her fingers to her lips and licked them clean.

  It was a move she'd never made with a sub, but the compulsion to know how he tasted overwhelmed her better judgment. Hot, sweet and salty. He was of the earth; a big, brawny force of nature, and right now he belonged to Megan. His pleasure, his pain, were hers to own.

  Megan went back to the table and dropped the flogger. She took up her long crop with hands that shook, and prayed her legs wouldn't give out. She walked back to him, the moisture between her legs slick on her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, determined to ignore her arousal.

  She did not mix sex with Domination. She did not. She would not. God, she was getting tired of reminding herself.

  Gregori's expression was one of pure ecstasy as he eyed the crop. He immediately moved his legs further apart, begging her with his eyes, with his body language, to continue.

  God, his cock was gorgeous. Thick and long, flushed with blood and want and so hard it strafed the skin just below his navel. She traced the thick vein along the underside with her nail, soaking in his shuddered groan. Lowering the crop, she began to tap lightly, then not so lightly, up and down the length. He gasped with each impact, jerking, but not breaking position, willfully staying at her mercy.

  Sliding one foot between his legs, she kicked lightly at his ankle, and he obediently spread even further. His eyes were glued to the crop, lips red and soft looking, and for one insane moment Megan was desperate to taste them, to lose herself in his kiss.

  Instead she dipped her hand further and applied the crop briskly to his balls. He lurched, grabbing at the chair behind him, and spit out something in Russian that she bet would have made her blush if she'd understood it.

  "What do you want, Sug?" she murmured, keeping up the rhythm of her strikes, only lighter now.

  "More, Mistress," his voice was so guttural she could barely make out the words. "I need more."

  Unsure anymore if she meant to pleasure him or punish him, Megan let go, flicking the crop hard along the insides of his thighs, his balls, back further to snap against the smooth ridge of his perineum. She wanted to taste him, couldn't resist anymore. She leaned forward and licked a hot line down his arched, straining throat. He tasted of salt and lust. She ran her tongue around his nipple and he cursed. He threw his head back and howled when she bit down, sucking it deeply into her mouth.

  Before she could release him, he was on his knees, a tiny streak of blood on his chest where her teeth had clamped before his collapse. His breath was ragged. Raw, almost sobbing sounds ripped from his chest.

  His head fell forward; damp heat scalded her through the thin material of her dress. She was on fire and needed to be extinguished fast. Shaking hands dropped the crop, and all coherent thought fled as his breath swept like lava over her already burning pussy.

  No more thinking, just feeling. She grabbed Gregori's hair, clutching the best she could at the short, silky spikes and yanked his head back so she could see his eyes. They seethed, molten silver, burning mercury, sending floods of scalding heat through her bloodstream.

  "Serve your Mistress," she bit out between her clenched teeth, and jerked at her skirt, ripping along the deep slit to bare herself for his mouth.

  Gregori needed no instruction; he dove between her thighs. Biting at her panties, he licked and sucked at the wet satin material, his moan of hunger vibrating over her clit with agonizing pleasure. His large hands grasped her hips, biting painfully into the flesh. His hot breath tore through her like a flame, burning her from the inside out.

  With a short, vicious twist of his head, her panties parted, shredded by his teeth. She cupped his skull in both hands and pulled him in tighter. She needed to feel his tongue on her body, had to feel him eating her
alive. Had to feel him coming apart in her hands.

  "Stroke yourself," she gritted out, and watched as he clumsily wrenched off the cock rings that had kept him from coming. He grunted into her pussy, sending vibrations like a gong through her core, once his shaft was free of its bonds.

  His tongue swept over her clit, and she clutched the back of his head, grinding down on his mouth as the storm rose in her. She rubbed over him roughly, marking him with her arousal, and he moaned into her, stabbing into her with his tongue, drawing out her cream. His whole body shuddered under her hands, and she could feel the vibration of his hand working his cock furiously.

  Gregori sucked her clit hard into his mouth and the orgasm ripped through her like lightning. She froze, transfixed, and she could swear even her hair stood on end. When the deep, racking spasms hit, he was right there with her, his cum splashing in scalding streams on her thighs, driving her higher still.

  She didn't know how long she stood there, fingers speared through his damp, sweaty hair, knees threatening to buckle, but as her senses came back under her control, a chill dread began to fill her.

  She stumbled back, unable to meet Gregori's eyes. She didn't know which would be worse; if he were to gloat over his victory, or if he were to watch her with that intent, knowing gaze that reached into her soul and invited her to do the same.

  She moved, without speaking, to the sink and used a towel to quickly scrub away his cum, and hers. She stripped her ruined panties off roughly and tossed them in the trash. Then, still not looking at him, she spoke.

  "That wasn't supposed to happen."

  "Mistress, it was wonderful." His quiet confession threatened to break her resolve.

  "It was wrong," she disagreed, reaching for the calm resolve she'd used to set aside countless subs in the past, but not finding it. "I don't do this. I can't do this…" her words drifted off, and she shook herself. She refused to waver at this late date.