My Guilty Pleasure - Part 1
I am dressed in my lace stocking dress. The gown sits off of my shoulders, styled in such a way that it is cutting across my collar bone. It is sexy and seductive, and the floral lace looks great against my skin. I eye myself in the full length mirror, my legs looking incredibly long in the five inch heels. I was surprised I could even stand in them, let alone walk. But I know I won't be on my feet for much longer.
The slit on the side of the dress doesn't stop at my thigh, rising up to my waist and showing off my dark red panties. My matching bra is just visible through the dress, my breasts plump and pronounced against the confiding material. It's strapless and a small bow holds it together at the front. A specially made bra had been made for this dress and now I realise that it fits perfectly. It matches my blood stained lipstick.
I spend a great deal of time on my makeup for tonight. Normally I never would, but it is a special occasion. My hair is tied up high on the back of my head, little wispy curls of hair dangling around and framing my face. My eyebrows are perfectly arched and eyeliner flicked to precision. I want everything to be perfect for tonight. But still, it feels as if something is missing. I purse my lips and tap my finger to my chin, eyes narrowing at the reflection.
I grin and practically skip over to my drawers, pulling out a pair of nylon hold ups. I slip my shoes off and place my foot on the stool, gradually pulling one up my left leg ever so slowly until it is halfway up my thigh. I do the same with the right before stepping back into my shoes once again.
I'm ready and now all that remains is the wait.
I think it is the worst part about all of this; waiting. I am practically itching in my seat, my legs shaking uncontrollably. It is what I do when nervous, it is almost like a ritual, a habit I have, just like some people chew on their bottom lips. That familiar feeling from last time rises in my stomach and it sends a strange sensation through me. My whole body feels numb with anticipation.
I take the moment to reflect on how I got to this point in my life. In reality, I have Caroline to thank for this because I have never been happier. Because of her dragging me to that fetish club for her birthday, I met him. I was a good girl…I suppose I still am. Only ever having one boyfriend in my twenty-four years, I was left curious and naïve. I knew Matt loved me, but neither one of us were in love.
Love. It's just such a complicated emotion. It ranges in power and has different forms: from the love of a father to the love of a friend. Each is compelling and mighty. There is the devotion from a boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife.
And then there is my situation…
My palms are sweating now as well and I have to wipe them on the cloth by my vanity table. My eyes are glued to the clock above my bed, ticking down the seconds. Any minute now, but those minutes feel like forever. But then again, that is something I love. The wait.
I jump and yelp as the racket sound of my phone echoes throughout the room, blaring out a jumbled rock song. I go to grab it and fumble, my damp palms not giving me enough grip. The phone tumbles to the floor towards the window, still ringing.
"Crap," I mutter under my breath, bending down to collect it.
I hold the phone in my hands and I am about to answer, when it suddenly cuts off. Call ended. I raise my brow, glaring at the screen before throwing the phone down on to the plush, antique black chaise longue seat.
A hand wraps around my throat from behind, yanking me back to a hard and solid wall of muscle. I suck in a breath to speak, but his right hand comes up over my mouth, silencing me. I start to pant a little, my body panicking from the situation. This was definitely an unexpected turn of events.
His hand smells of aftershave and leather, making me wonder what he's been up to. His breath is tickling the side of my face and his stubble scrapes along my jaw. Normally he is clean shaven, but not tonight. Maybe it has to do with what I said last time; when I had said that I liked a man a little rough around the edges.
"Good evening, Kitten." He muses in my ear. "Did you miss me?"
Hearing his voice makes me squirm in his hold. It has been seven days since I have heard his voice and felt his touch. He has been away on a business trip. Every day he sent me a text message, describing what he would do to me, teasing me. It is why I am so worked up now, wanting nothing more than for him to throw me on the bed and fuck me. But I knew he wouldn't. He likes to take his time.
"Y-yes…Sir." I say lowly.
I knew to keep my hands at my sides, but I can't help but wiggle against his hold. He chuckles behind me as the hand around my throat dips into my hair. He runs his fingers through it a few times, before gripping if tightly, using the new leverage to tilt my head back.
"Hmm…I missed you. I missed you so fucking much. I sat through endless meetings and interviews, wishing you were there with me. I imagined you under my desk, with your lips stretched over my cock. I've been hard from the moment I got on that plane to the moment I got here."
I bite my bottom lip, listening to his words and feeling the exact same. He hasn't left my thoughts for a moment in those few days. Now, I can just make out his silhouette in my peripheral vision. Even in the dark, he is completely gorgeous, his strong features standing out. His chin and nose are perfectly sculpted to his face. I can just make out his piercing cobalt blue eyes peering out from his narrowed slits.
"I can't wait to sink my rock hard cock inside you. Do you want that?"
My body stiffens, but my neck moves slightly, nodding.
"Use your words, Kitten." He says sharply.
His hand runs down my body, cupping me through my panties, his finger carefully ghosting over my clit. I gasp at the feeling. He rarely goes straight for me like that, but I love it. My eyes flutter shut and I circle my hips over his hand, wanting nothing more than for him to touch me again.
"Tsk, tsk," He murmurs in my ear, his hand disappearing, holding my hair again. "Now you'll have to wait longer."
I groan against his hand, earning a sharp spank to my thigh as warning. Any normal person would think I am crazy, but to me I can't imagine anything better. For me, it's a turn on.
Everyone has them, whether it is sexual or not. I never thought before that this was a turn on for me. I was a normal girl before all of this, that is, if the definition of normal exists.
I am pulled from my thoughts with a sharp jerk to my hair as he slowly takes his hand away from my mouth. I can feel his fingertips rubbing my roots, the aching rubbing away. I hum in delight and my neck falls back to his shoulder, his other hand cupping my breast.
My heart beat speeds up as his lips skim the side of my face.
He pulls me towards the foot of my bed, bending me over the metal frame. My cheek is pressed against the comforter and my arse is high in the air. I can feel him nudging my legs apart, spreading them further. He takes my arms in his own, crossing my wrists over behind my back, squeezing a little. It is his silent command for me to keep my hands in place. He can easily tie me down, but he likes to test me; to see how much I can take.
"What's the safe word?" He asks.
I do not hesitate. "Red."
"Good…the back door was left unlocked. Why is that?"
I gulp. "I-I forgot."
"Not a good answer, Kitten. Something could have happened to you. I'm afraid I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, to help your…forgetfulness."
He delivers a quick blow with his palm to my thigh and my sexual high peaks.
"Yes, Sir!" I say breathlessly.
The pad of his thumb runs down my spine, all the way to the base. It amazes me that such a simple act makes my insides turn. His hand then runs down my waist to my leg. I feel him kneel down behind me, smoothing my backside through the see-through lace. His fingers then reach for the slit of the dress dancing along my calf and thigh. I can feel him gathering the hem of the lace before pulling it up, exposing my behind to him.
"Lovely," He whispers, as his palm makes its way up my leg before cupping my sex in his hand.
I whimper at the feeling.
"I knew this dress would look amazing on you," He muses against my skin, planting a kiss on my arse cheek as his hand plays with the bow on my red panties. "Although…I think it would look much nicer without underwear, don't you?"
I lick my dry lips, smudging my lipstick a little. "Y-yes Sir," I reply softly.
"Good," He says lowly, releasing my body and giving my backside a quick slap. "Go into the bathroom and take off your underwear."
I quickly dart into the bathroom, making speedy work of getting my panties and strapless bra off. I keep the stockings on though, because I know how much he loves them. I check myself over in the bathroom mirror, noting how flushed I am. My cheeks are bright red and my mouth dry with the thought of what he has planned for me. I lick my lips, tasting the cherry lipstick before I draw a breath and open the door.
I expect to find him there, by the bed, waiting for me. But I can't see him. Carefully, I step into the room, my eyes narrowed as I search for him.
Suddenly, he's behind me, one hand around my throat and the other resting on my hip. I sigh, feeling his throbbing member against my backside. He's always better than me when it comes to hiding his desire. He has barely touched me, and I am already a quivering mess before him.
His hand then reaches up moments late and cups my breast. I suck in a sharp breath, feeling the coolness of his palm against my heated flesh as it sends chills up my spine. His fingertips slowly trace my collarbone, teasing me, playing with me. My head falls back against his shoulder, my lungs unable to keep up. I feel my breath stop for a second before his strong arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me back flush against his chest. The buttons make impressions on my spine, every lump and bump moulding to my own skin.
"Hmm, so much better," He muses, his index finger trailing down the side of my body.
I make a sound that could be described as something between a moan and whimper, my backside moving of its own accord. I rub against him, wanting to feel him. His hands are immediately on my hips, halting me in my movement. He chuckles in my ear and his fingers return to the low part of my body, dancing between my hip bones. It tickles, but I try to restrict myself, knowing he will only tease me more.
"I brought some new toys today," His husky voice says, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Would you like to play with them?"
I don't think. I don't need to. It is what I want. To feel him. To be with him. Just him.
"Good," He lets go of me and ushers me towards the bed, facing the wall. "Wait here, Kitten."
I stay where I am. I know the rules, but I don't do it just to please him. I do it because I want to. It thrills me to be like this, to hear him moving around behind me and not knowing what will happen next. I love giving him the control and power and trust. I trust him above anyone.
I can hear him and the unzipping of his duffle bag. The rattling of a chain and keys sends a jolt through my body, making my knees feel weak. I'm in a love-hate relationship with this part of the wait.
The door to my closet creaks open and something heavy is placed on the hollow wood. My brows come together, trying to think of what he is doing. This is definitely new to me. I try to think of what it could be, but not before the closet door abruptly slams shut, making my heart leap into my throat. He laughs lowly, taking something out from the bag. He takes slow, calculating steps towards me until I practically feel his heat.
My body jerks when his fingertips ghost over the nape of my neck.
"Calm down, Kitten." He says, his knuckles running down my spine. "Now, hands behind your back."
I obey his command and he wraps a leather cuff around my wrist. Both of the cuffs are separate, but have metal loops on them so they can be attached to each other or furniture. These I am very well acquainted with. In fact, they are my favourite option when it comes to holding me down. Strong and durable, but they don't hurt as badly as rope does.
He takes me by the shoulders and turns me around, staying behind me, as my eyes land on the closet door. Now, hanging down from the top of the wood, is two thick, leather straps with metal snap hooks attached to the ends. I look down at my wrists and then the door, a grin tugs at my lips. Oh yes, this is definitely something we have not tried before.
With his palm resting on my lower back, he pushes me forwards and to the door. I face the wood, waiting for his next command. Instead, he takes my right hand in his own, kissing the top before pulling it up towards the leather, snapping it in place with the clip. I give a little tug, testing the strength, but it doesn't budge one bit. It may look like a weaker form of restraint, but it is damn effective in holding me in place.
He repeats the process on my other hand, lifting and clipping it in place with ease. For once I am thankful that he allows me to keep my heels on. Normally I would complain of how my feet hurt, but I keep my lips shut. If not for the shoes, I would have been in the unconformable position on my tip toes with aching arms. At least this way I am able to relax a little more.
Checking the restraints once more, like he always does, he finally moves away and back to his bag, leaving me to face the door and at his mercy. I quiver as I hear him take his jacket off and I can imagine him rolling up his sleeves.
"Stick your backside out for me and arch your back." He says softly, behind me once again. "I want you to count. Understand?"
I do as he says, and close my eyes because I know what is coming. As if to test me, he swats my arse through the thin lace dress, my
only protection, gently. It's enough to send ripples through my body, but I try not to make a sound. He rubs the area before bringing his hand down again with a little more force. This time I jerk a little and groan. He doesn't give me time to recover as his palm swiftly makes contact with my flesh again.
I gasp and take a deep breath, feeling his hands reach for the hem of the poor excuse for a dress. He lifts it, exposing me completely for his viewing pleasure. He makes a sound of approval, as he grips my hips and nudges my legs further apart. Feeling the open air on my sex only serves to turn me on more and I relish in the feeling.
"So lovely." He whispers, squeezing my arse cheeks.
I blush and look over my shoulder at him. "It's all for you, Sir."
I can just make out his smirk in the darkness. "That's my good girl. Now face the wall."
Doing as told, I feel his hand come down again, over and over. I gasp as each strike hits me, but I make no complaint, I just count. One, two, five, ten. He keeps going. It's uncomfortable, but I don't need to complain. I want this.
This is what I love. After several spanks, he always soothes the burning skin, giving me a moment to breath before starting again. My cheeks burn from the fast action and now I am whimpering from both the pain and pleasure. He knows when to stop and does so, making sure to be extra gentle when rubbing the sore flesh better. This is where I always moan, feeling him hands massaging me. One of his fingers slips up and starts to rub my sex.
"Hmm, always so wet."
It is true.
I let out a frustrated moan when he stops and removes his finger, earning one last spank. I sigh as here reaches back into his bag before coming towards me again. He pushes me forward so I am almost standing straight and ducks under my arm. He is in-between the door and me, yet he still upholds his dominate persona. He doesn't look me in the eye, but pulls down on the front of my dress. From his pocket, he produces a pair of scissors.
This is not what I am expecting at all. He notices my change in demeanour and puts them back in his slacks pocket. The same hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb running under my eye.
"If you need to say it, say it."
Knowing what he means, my lips part but the words fail to leave me. At the beginning of all of this, we had agreed on safe words. Green for 'keep going', yellow for 'uncomfortable' and red for 'absolutely no'. I have never used these words because there has never come a time where I was unhappy or wanted to stop. I know him and he knows me well enough that we never crossed those lines. Now is the only time I have ever thought to use the word. The unknown is what I love about all of this and the desire to experiment around. That statement is true enough as I liked to experiment with a lot of his toys like with the new door cuffs, however, this time I'm a bit scared. Something involving scissors is something I never expected.
I think for a moment; do I really want him to stop? I know he would never hurt me like that. People will say I am contradicting myself. Yes, the spanking hurts, but it thrills me. It is what I look forward to whenever he is near. Anything he does never leaves long term damage to me.
I swallow thickly, clearing my throat. "Green."
His head shakes from side to side. "Tell me what I need to hear. Do you trust me?"
I do not need to think about my answer. I know straight away what I want to say. And then, without a second thought, the words slip from my mouth.
"I trust you."
Hey guys! So, this isn't exactly a new story...well it is, but it's not a full story. This is just a little something that I have been playing around with for a while and just thought I would post it. It's a four part one-shot, following Elena and her 'Sir'. It's not going to be to everyone tastes, but it was something I had fun exploring and creating this new situation for our favourite TV couple. Playing with BDSM, dominance and trusting one another completely. It's just something I found interesting and wanted to explore so I hope you enjoyed it so far! Any who, read and review and just generally let me know what you think. Would you like to see the other parts or should I just bin this? Let me know!
Special thanks to Amy (LiveBreatheVampires) and Ren (throughmysoul44) for their awesome help and input to this chapter to make it the best it could be. Make sure to check them out and there amazing stories!
Can't Be Tamed will be coming to an end soon and I have plans for my next story once that had been completed and my other stories updated! Anyway let me know what you think! And, hopefully, I'll see you all next time! Bye!
Quote from the summary: "Who's to say that love needs to be soft and gentle?" - Dr. Twardon in Secretary (2002)
Next chapter: Elena explores the depths of her trust and love towards her Sir. Stay tuned ;)