Page 40 of Under His Control

“Let me guess. The guy who showed up looked nothing like his hot photo.”

“Believe it or not, it was actually him. And he was just as good looking in real life. Though he did have this really annoying nasally voice,” she added, wrinkling her nose. “He came up to my table and slid into the chair beside me. ’Hello, slave. I’m your new Master,’ he said by way of greeting. Before I could even respond, he whipped out a pair of regulation police handcuffs and snapped them on my wrists before I even realized what he was doing.”

“No kidding,” Damon said. “That’s a pretty ballsy thing to do in a mall food court. But regulation cuffs? What an amateur. What did you do?”

“At first, I just sat there, stunned. But also—true confession time—I was kind of turned on. Terrified but also thrilled. Like, wow, this hunky guy wants to be my Master! He’s handcuffed me. He’s claimed me.”

Damon frowned. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you told him to get those things off you and get the fuck away.”

Ellen shrugged and lifted her hands, palms up. “Hey, I was sixteen, remember. But yeah, I did start to get nervous when he said he was going to take me into the men’s bathroom and fuck me in one of the stalls. And if I pleased him, he’d take me home and keep me in a cage in his closet. I would subsist on his come for protein and his piss for hydration.”

“Where is this guy?” Damon demanded, outraged on her behalf. “I’m going to beat the crap out of him.”

Ellen laughed. “It was ten years ago. And don’t worry. I came to my senses and told him if he didn’t get those cuffs off me and get away from me, I was going to scream my head off.”

“And did he?”

“Yeah, after telling me I was a prick tease and a stupid cunt.”

Instinctively, Damon put his arm around Ellen’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m glad you didn’t let that creep ruin BDSM for you.”

She leaned into him. “Not a chance. It’s part of my DNA.”

“I still want to find him and beat the shit out of him. I hate the idea of some asshole behaving like that under the guise of being a Dom.”

They separated as they came to a narrowing of the path, Damon the first to pull away.

They walked in silence for a while. Then Ellen said, “So, what about you? What was your first BDSM experience?”

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t until I graduated from the academy. I mean, I’d always had fantasies since I was sexually aware, same as you. But I didn’t really find the opportunity to act on them until after college. My first post-graduate assignment was in Germany at a military base about two hours outside of Munich. On my first leave, I went to this really intense BDSM club in the city. From the moment I walked into the place, I knew I was home. Like I’d finally found my people.”

“Oh, I totally get that,” Ellen said. “That’s how I felt when I first went to Lair Sade, and later, to The Enclave.”

“I wandered around for a while just gawking at everyone and everything. Eventually, I hooked up with this German girl. I didn’t even have a gear bag back then, but she did. We had a very intense three-hour scene. She basically topped from the bottom because I didn’t really know what the hell I was doing. But from that first time I used a whip, handled rope, took control of a woman, I was hooked. I’ve never bothered with vanilla sex since.”

She glanced shyly toward him. “So, what happened to this girl?”

Damon shrugged. “I never saw her again after that night. Not that it mattered—there were plenty of eager sub girls to play with whenever I managed to get back there.”

The air had turned colder as they walked, dusk darkening their path. Ellen wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered. Damon put his arm around her again, just to keep her warm, and led her back to the cabin.

After their hike, they shared a dinner of steaks and salad, followed by ice cream sundaes. They watched a movie on his laptop. To keep things interesting, he had her keep her legs spread wide, cunt accessible. While they watched, he teased and stroked her until she was panting, her cunt sopping wet. Each time she seemed to be getting too close to orgasm, he would smack her slick cunt with a hard palm and forbid her to come.

He didn’t pay any attention at all to the movie, and doubted she did either. He paused the picture every so often and instructed her to suck his cock. She would slide from the sofa and kneel before him, eagerly taking his shaft into her mouth as she cradled his balls.

He finally gave in near the end of the film, shooting his seed down her throat. Directing her back onto the sofa, he continued to finger fuck and tease her until she begged, “Please, Sir! Oh, god, please, may I come?”

Abruptly, he pulled his hand away and then smacked her again. “No, slave. You may not.”

When he finally did let her come, she keened her pleasure as she shuddered and trembled. Then she dropped again to her knees before him. Grabbing his hands, she kissed them over and over. “Thank you, Sir. Oh, thank you,” she said with such fervent sincerity it embarrassed him.

“Don’t thank me too soon,” he replied with a chuckle. “You know you’re going to have to pay for it.”

They stood side-by-side in the bathroom, washing their faces and brushing their teeth like an old married couple. It should have made him nervous, but he found he rather enjoyed the easy comradery of it.

That night in bed, he cuffed her wrists as always and then pulled her into his arms.

I could almost get used to this, he thought as he drifted to sleep.

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