Title: Brokered Submission
Author: Claire Thompson
Genre: Adult, Erotic Romance
Release Date: January 9, 2015
Dylan steers clear of vanilla girls, preferring to find his play partners in the BDSM scene. But something about Zoë Stamos whispers to the Dom inside him. As they work together on a complex multi-million dollar investment deal, it is all too easy to imagine her naked and bound, skin glistening with sweat, her hair wild about her face. He can almost hear her breathy cries as he cracks a whip behind her, letting its sharp tip flick over her skin…
When a key investor pulls out of a deal Zoë hoped would make her career, Dylan Hart offers to step in and cover the six million dollar shortfall, but his terms are like nothing she’s ever heard before. “You will spend the next forty-eight hours as my sexual slave. You will be confined to my basement dungeon, and you will be subject to my every sensual whim and erotic torture.”
Zoë, who has a secret cache of dark, edgy erotic romances in her library, never dreams she’d be offered the chance to step right into the pages of one. Fantasy is one thing, real life erotic submission is quite another! But Dylan is waiting for her answer, his self-assured arrogance and intense sexual allure nearly too much for Zoë to handle. Her heart is hammering in her chest, and it’s hard to catch her breath.
“So,” he says, “do we have a deal?”
Brokered Submission © Claire Thompson
He sensed her tension and her fear, but also
her excitement. His initial assessment of her submissive potential hadn’t
lessened. If anything, he was surer than ever. The next exercise he had planned
would help him gauge the masochistic aspect of her psyche, and just the thought
of it made his cock hard.
He regarded her standing before him, the
blindfold covering her eyes, her hands hanging loosely at her sides. She
fidgeted a little—shifting from foot to foot, her tongue flicking nervously
over her lips, but otherwise doing quite well at just doing nothing, especially
given her complete lack of training.
He moved slowly around her, admiring her
long, lean curves and the high heft of her well-rounded breasts. Her nipples
were fully erect and flushed a deep red against the creamy white of her skin
where no sun had kissed it. The tailored business suits she had worn during
their professional time together, while elegant and flattering, had mostly
hidden her lush and curvaceous femininity.
Stepping behind her, Dylan removed the
blindfold. Tucking the sash back into his pocket, he moved to face her. She
blinked rapidly as her eyes readjusted to the light. Her eyes locked on his,
her full lips slightly pursed, as if she were waiting for a kiss.
Distracted by that lush mouth, Dylan had to
force himself to focus. “We’re going to engage in some pretty intense scenes
over the course of the weekend, and though I will pay close attention to your
body and your reactions, sometimes a Dom can miss distress signals, and has to
be hit over the head, metaphorically speaking. That’s where a safeword comes
in. When you use the word, it stops all action immediately and completely. Just
be aware—a safeword shouldn’t be used lightly. It’s like the fire alarm behind
the glass—for emergencies only. That said, if you’re panicking during a scene
and I don’t seem to be picking up on your cues, you can use the word, and all action
will cease.”
Zoë’s eyes had widened as he spoke, her
breath quickening, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Dylan put
his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into those beautiful, dark eyes.
“Hey, calm down. I’ve been in the scene for over a decade. I should tell you,
no sub has ever had to use her safeword with me. Ever.”
By the same token, no woman he’d worked with
before had signed on for training in exchange for investment money, without any
real indication they were submissive.
What if he was reading her wrong, and she had only gone along with this whole
thing to get the money she needed to complete her deal?
Not for the first time since he’d made the
impulsive agreement, Dylan wondered if he was insane. He took the gift of erotic
submission seriously, and would never dream of pushing his sexual agenda on a
woman who wasn’t one hundred percent willing.
But Zoë could have said no. She could have
refused—he’d given her the opportunity to back out of the deal, but she’d
steadfastly stuck to her guns. Despite the unorthodox nature of their
arrangement, Dylan remained convinced Zoë was a sub in need of a D/s
deflowering. And damn if he wasn’t just the Dom to do it.
This mental pep talk took only a few seconds
to register and, newly resolved, Dylan continued, “We’ll choose a word
together. Something from the world of high finance would be fitting. Do you
have a suggestion of a word you can easily remember that has nothing to do with
BDSM?”
“Buyout,” Zoë offered without hesitation.
“Buyout it is,” Dylan agreed.
Taking a step back, he reached for the O-ring
at the center of her collar and gave it a little tug. “Come on. Let’s go over
to the bed. I’m going to sit with my feet on the floor, and you’re going to lie
over my lap, facedown. Do you know why?”
“No, Sir,” she whispered, swallowing hard.
Her nipples, he noted, were still fully erect.
“Because I’m going to spank you.”
Her mouth opened into an O, matching the
sound she made, which was long and drawn out. “Ooooooh.” The response could have
been prompted either by fear or desire, or maybe it was both.
She was so fucking hot, and it was all he
could do not to throw her on the rug in that instant and plunge his aching cock
into her heat.
Instead, his finger looped through the
O-ring, he guided her to the bed. Letting her go, he sat. She stood uncertainly
before him. “Have you ever been spanked? I’m not talking about parental swats.
I’m talking about a lover holding you down and smacking that gorgeous ass of
yours.”
“No, Sir!” Zoë replied with such vehemence
Dylan had to chuckle.
Dylan patted his leg. “Come on, now. Do as
you’re told.”
Zoë held herself tentatively over him. He
helped her into position, shifting her body until her sexy little bottom was
perched on his thighs, her upper half resting along the mattress.
She held herself tight as a bowstring. Dylan
stroked her back. “Relax. I think you’ll find this a very sensuous experience,
if you open yourself to it. I’ll start by warming the skin, and I’ll steadily
increase the intensity to gauge your pain tolerance levels, okay?”
“Is it going to hurt?” Zoë’s normally low,
sultry voice rose nearly to a squeak, and again Dylan smiled, though this time
he managed to keep the chuckle at bay. He didn’t want to her to think he was
making fun of her, but she was so adorable.
“Yes,” he replied. “That’s the idea, Zoë.
It’s supposed to hurt, but the experience isn’t designed just to inflict pain
for its sake. This is what we call ‘erotic pain’ and it has a very specific
purpose. Actually it serves a lot of purposes at once. One is the giving of
yourself over to another person—allowing them the intimacy of using your body
in a way you wouldn’t normally allow.
“Then there is the focus on the actual
sensations—the feel of my hand on your skin, of the blood rushing to the
surface, of your muscles tensing and moving, and then ultimately relaxing as
you stop resisting and learn to let go. The goal is to give yourself over to
both the experience and your Dom. It can be extraordinarily liberating.”
He was silent a moment as he tried to come up
with an analogy she might understand. His hands moved over her soft, supple
skin, his cock hard as steel beneath her naked body. “Think about a strenuous
hike up a difficult mountain,” he finally said. “By the end, you’re drenched
with sweat, every muscle aches, brambles and thorns have scraped your skin.
Then you reach the summit, and a new feeling takes over. You experience this
incredible exhilaration to have made it to the top, and you can hardly believe
the sheer beauty and power of the vista spreading before you. And the difficult
journey to that point makes the achievement all the sweeter and more
meaningful. That’s what a successful BDSM scene is like, not just for the
receiver, but for the giver as well.”
He struck her ass lightly with his open palm,
the slapping sound of skin on skin echoing in the air. Zoë stiffened and jerked
beneath his touch. “Ouch!” she squealed, though he knew he hadn’t hurt her,
only startled her.
“Relax,” he urged, striking her again, just a
little harder. “Let yourself begin the journey. Feel the sensations without
judgment. Accept the pain.” He struck her once more. “Embrace it.” He kept his
other hand on her lower back, both to steady her and to provide the comfort of
touch.
At first she continued to squirm and tense.
She was breathing rapidly, her breath ragged and shallow. “Breathe,” he urged.
“Stop resisting, Zoë. It’s much easier to take when you open yourself to
receive. Take this first step with me.” He began to smack her in a steady rain
of rapid strokes, alternating cheeks until the skin began to darken to a pretty
pink.
After a while, he was very pleased to note
her squirming had stopped, though her hands were clenched into tight fists at
her sides. “Relax your hands,” he said. “Uncurl your fingers and try to slow
your breathing.”
He wasn’t sure she had heard him, but after
several long beats, her fingers unfurled. She drew in a long, shuddering breath
and let it out.
Encouraged, Dylan drew back his arm, cupped
his palm, and gave her the first real smack, smashing down so her groin ground
against his. Over and over he struck her with force, giving her the kind of
spanking that would send a trained sub flying within minutes.
She tensed again beneath the onslaught,
squirming and whimpering, and crying out, “Ouch! It hurts! Stop, oh stop!”
He didn’t stop.
She didn’t say her safeword.
He spoke in a low, calming voice near her
ear. “You’re doing great, Zoë. You can do this. You’re almost there.” He
continued the spanking, watching her skin darken from pink to red, careful to
keep up the intensity without taking it too far, too fast.
And then it happened.
All at once the resistance went out of her.
Someone not familiar with the masochistic sensibility might have thought she’d
merely given up, but Dylan knew otherwise. Her breathing had slowed, her hands
rested easily by her sides, her toes no longer curled, her muscles no longer
tensed. He continued the spanking, slowly but steadily easing the intensity
until he was merely stroking the heated flesh of those perfect globes.
Zoë didn’t move or react in any way. She lay
limp and heavy over his lap and it occurred to him she might actually be
asleep, a not uncommon result at the end of an intense session that culminates
in full release.
I knew it, he thought exultantly.
He leaned over her, his mouth brushing the
curve of her small, delicate ear. “You were born for this,” he whispered.
She answered with a small, sweet sigh.
Claire Thompson has been writing erotic fiction and romance since 1996. With over fifty novels published, Claire recently established hew own publishing venue, RomanceUnbound.com, where all of her work is available for direct sale. Claire’s novels involve the sensual exploration of D/s and erotic romance, as well as the more intense and edgy side of BDSM. Her D/s romances explore the power and beauty of a loving exchange of power. Her darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately her work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.
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