Chapter 13
Slave To Love
Mr Bossy is a dominant, and though I don’t think of myself as a submissive, I do have a strong desire to submit when I’m with him.
There’s something about him that makes me want to obey; to serve and please him.
I crave his praise. When he tells me I’m a ‘good girl’, the words alone are almost enough to make me come.
So yesterday we’re out in his car, tootling along in the fast lane, surrounded by other Sunday drivers, when he asks me to take off my knickers.
Well, he doesn’t ask really – it’s more of an order than a request. So I do as I’m told, eager to please.
I’m totally his bitch, and I don’t even care.
I’m already excited as I wriggle them off under my skirt and toss them into the footwell.
‘Show me,’ he says. ‘Lift up your skirt.’
I look around, not sure I can do it. We’re on a busy road – there are cars whizzing by on both sides.
‘No one can see,’ he says, understanding my anxiety, and I realise it’s true. Other drivers can only see my top half. No one will know if I’m naked from the waist down. ‘Show me,’ he coaxes again, in that commanding voice of his.
So I grab the hem of my skirt and pull it up slowly, teasing him, finally bunching it up around my waist and turning in the seat to give him a full visual. He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance over at me, and his little gasp is gratifying.
‘Spread your legs,’ he says, and I scooch down a little in my seat and spread myself open. I tell you, I’m like a little puppy that’s aced obedience school around this guy. If he told me to roll over and play dead, I’d probably do it.
He takes one hand off the wheel and reaches over to grope me a little. ‘You’re so wet already,’ he says, as he strokes me. ‘Does this game excite you?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper. My voice is shaky as his fingers work me and I feel myself getting wetter.
‘Good girl,’ he says, as he withdraws his fingers. He sticks them in his mouth, sucking absentmindedly. ‘Do you need to come?’ he asks, as he places his hand back on the wheel, and I feel bereft.
‘Yes,’ I gasp. I sound like I’m choking.
‘I’d like to do that for you, but I have to concentrate on the road,’ he says, giving me a wicked smile. ‘Put your feet up on the dash and touch yourself.’
I kick off my shoes and plant my feet as instructed.
‘Good girl,’ he coos, as I stroke myself, and I can feel myself getting closer at the sound of his voice. ‘You’re always such a good girl for me. I want you to make yourself come now. And let me hear you.’
I’m just climaxing, my body bucking off the seat, straining against the seatbelt, when we pull up at a set of traffic lights.
A young guy in a black BMW pulls up beside us and glances over.
I don’t know if he guesses what’s going on, but he grins and winks at me.
I turn to Mr Bossy in panic, and he reaches out and strokes my hair, soothing me as I come down from a juddering orgasm.
I’m whimpering as little aftershocks ripple through me.
‘Ssh, it’s okay,’ he says, and tells me I’m a good girl again. ‘You did great,’ he says. ‘I’m very pleased with you.’ I don’t even care then that a total stranger has just seen my sex face.
When the lights change and we pull away, I reach down for my knickers.
‘Don’t,’ he says, and I straighten up again. ‘Leave them off. I think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl. When I find some place to pull in, we’ll stop and you can have my cock. Would you like that?’
I know – it sounds like a dad offering to stop for ice-cream as a treat for his little girl.
But I nod eagerly, like a child gagging for that ice-cream, because I really would like that very much, and he knows it.
I love having his big, thick cock in my mouth.
I love how helpless and vulnerable I can make him with my hands and mouth, how powerful it makes me feel, even when he grabs my hair and controls my movements.
And I love it in my cunt, moving inside me, filling me up until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
We pull into a lay-by, and he cuts the engine, turning to me as he unclicks his seatbelt.
I don’t know if he wants me to undo mine, so I wait.
He smiles and I know he’s pleased that I’m waiting for his instructions.
He leans over and kisses my forehead, then my mouth as he releases my seatbelt himself.
‘I’d like you to take your top off,’ he says, as he pulls back, looking into my eyes.
This isn’t a command, it’s a request. Sometimes he does this.
I think he’s making allowances for the fact that I’m new to all this, and I’m not as into it as most of the submissives he’s been with.
I’m touched that he’s so considerate and patient with me, and it just makes me more eager to please him.
Still, I waver, glancing towards the window.
He sees my slight hesitation, but he’s not displeased. This is a request, not an order.
‘Please. I won’t let anyone see you,’ he says.
So I say yes, his favourite word, and pull my top off over my head.
‘Thank you,’ he says, kissing me on the forehead again.
I know my trust means a lot to him, and I feel good, knowing I’ve pleased him.
‘Is it warm enough?’ he asks, stroking my arm as I unhook my bra.
‘Yes.’ I smile, touched by his consideration. It’s cold outside, but he’s cranked up the heating and it’s cosy and warm inside his car. I toss my bra onto the floor.
‘Such a beautiful girl,’ he says, pulling me into his lap.
His hands run up and down my naked torso, over my bare breasts, and they feel amazing on my skin.
He leans down and suckles my breasts, first one, then the other, taking my nipples into his mouth.
Then he undoes his fly and bunches my skirt up around my waist and we fuck right there in the lay-by.
He pulls out at the last minute and comes over my breasts.
When we have both recovered, he rubs his spunk all over my chest, massaging it into my skin with slow, firm movements.
As his palms pass over my nipples, they harden and excitement spikes again deep inside me.
He smiles, and I think he knows that he’s getting me worked up again, but he just continues methodically massaging his cum into my breasts and belly.
‘There,’ he says, with a smile of satisfaction when he’s done and I’m coated in a fine layer of his jizz, drying on my skin.
He taps my waist to indicate that I can get off him, and I’m disappointed because I’m ready to go again.
‘You can put your top back on,’ he says, as I slide across to the passenger seat.
‘But I’ll keep those.’ He nods to my knickers on the floor.
‘Put them in the glove compartment for me.’
I do as I’m told and he drives me back to my place.
‘Thank you for a lovely day,’ he says, when he’s parked outside my building.
‘Thank you.’ I smile. I’m hoping he’ll come inside. I want more.
‘I won’t come in,’ he says, answering my unspoken question. ‘I have an early flight in the morning.’
I’m disappointed, but I console myself with the thought that I can have a wank as soon as I get in. I’m eager to get out of the car now.
‘Don’t have a shower tonight,’ he says. ‘I want you to go to bed covered in my cum. I want the smell of me all around you, so you think of me all the time.’
No problemo, I think – all the better for getting myself off to thoughts of him.
‘And don’t touch yourself,’ he says then, as if he’s read my mind. ‘Don’t let anyone else touch you either. Your next orgasm will come from me. Is that clear?’
I nod, dismayed. He’s going away on business tomorrow and he’ll be gone for a week. My only hope is that he’ll call for phone sex and let me come then. Otherwise, I’m looking at a whole week without an orgasm. Still, I know I’ll do it. The desire to please him is overwhelming.
‘Yes,’ I say.
He gives a little groan of satisfaction. ‘You’re such a good girl,’ he says. ‘You please me very much.’ Then he leans over and kisses me again, his hand cupping my breast. His thumb flicks over the nipple, deliberately teasing, and I jump, already desperate to come again.
I don’t get much sleep that night. Every time I turn in the bed I smell his musky scent all around me. It’s agony not touching myself, and I wonder how I’m going to hold out for a whole week. But I do. Because I’m such a good girl for him.
Holy shit! Luca thought, closing the laptop and trying to ignore the semi he had got while he read.
It was a good thing he’d decided to check out Claire’s blog, he thought, struggling to reconcile what he’d just read with the Claire he knew.
He couldn’t believe she’d written that stuff – she had trouble even saying ‘fuck’.
At least now he knew what they were up against. If this was who Claire’s publisher dude thought he was dealing with, it was no wonder she was worried about living up to his expectations.
He’d probably dump her as soon as she refused to have a three-way or to let him tie her up.
Or, worse, she might feel pressured into doing stuff she wasn’t comfortable with to keep up the pretence.
It just reinforced what he had said to her yesterday.
He could teach her techniques, give her experience, show her how to please a guy, and help her discover what she liked, so she could ask for what she wanted in bed.
But, more than anything, they needed to work on building up her confidence so she could handle herself in any situation.
She needed a bit of this NiceGirl’s ballsy attitude.
But the fact that she had written this stuff gave him hope.
It must be in there somewhere – it was just a matter of drawing it out.