Blissfully Hers: Bliss Series, Book Seven Page 3

  “Nothing as in nothing? No sex? Or only―”

  “Yes, sex, but nothing kinky.”

  “Do not interrupt me,” she orders, her voice hot. Uh-oh. I’ve run afoul of the rules before I even get started. “I mean, nothing? No oral?” I shake my head. “I suppose being pegged is something you’ve never done.”

  “Considering I don’t even know what that is, I’d guess not.” Now my shame is on display, I’m sure, and any rigidity I’d gained is long gone. I’m limp as a noodle, and mostly from embarrassment and fear. My eyes catch hers and I whisper, “I’m guessing you’re disappointed and wishing you hadn’t agreed to this, huh?”

  Her smile is warm. “On the contrary. I’d rather work with you than have somebody else get hold of you and scare you half to death or hurt you. Nobody wants that. So let’s go slow tonight. We’ll exchange email addresses before we leave and we’ll email back and forth before next time. I’ll come up with a list of things I want you to look up and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s, ‘Yes, mistress.’”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Very good. Now onto the bed with you. There you go. Spread eagle,” she says, and I wonder what she’s up to when she climbs up onto the bed, grasps my right hand, and buckles a cuff around it. As she’s working, she talks. “So she didn’t give you a blow job?” I shake my head. “And you didn’t go down on her?”

  “No. She said she smelled bad down there and didn’t want me doing that.”

  She huffs out a sigh. “Wow. Can I imagine you stimulated her digitally?” I’m about to ask what she means when she says, “You stimulated her clitoris with your finger so she’d have an orgasm, right?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think she ever had an orgasm.”

  She snickers. “Probably not.” By the time she’s finished, my wrists and ankles are bound, and there I am, naked and wide open.

  And my face is burning because my cock is so hard it’s aching. “What’s that?” I ask as she approaches me.

  “A blindfold. I’m going to cover your eyes. You’re going to have to trust me. Do you trust me, Brandt?”

  My voice shakes when I answer, “I want to.”

  “You’re honest. I like that. We can do anything together as long as we have honesty between us. Lift your head, babe.” Babe―she called me babe. That just makes me harder. I lift my head enough that she can scoot the elastic band down and my eyes are covered. That’s when I realize something.

  I’m totally at her mercy.

  That thought makes my heart pound and my mouth go dry. I’m at the mercy of a woman I don’t really know, one who knows things about sex that I can’t even dream of. I feel something run up the length of my dick and I let out a little, “Ohhhhhh.”

  “That was my finger. But I won’t always explain to you what I’m doing. You’ll just have to trust that I’m doing something you’ll like. You need a safeword. You’re new to all this, so your safeword is red, like a traffic light. If things start to get too intense, use yellow and I’ll know to slow down or back down a bit. Okay? Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, um, mistress.”

  “Very good.” The sensation of her weight shifting on the bed excites me even more, and then I feel her coming closer, her hand in the middle of my chest as she leans down. In a flash her lips are on mine, their warmth and softness drawing me in, and I lose myself in that kiss. A second later, she kisses down my sternum, down my belly, and down my lower abdomen, and when she gets to my cock, her mouth engulfs it and I almost scream.

  No wonder guys talk about this all the time. It’s incredible. She stops from time to time to rake her teeth over my crown, then trails her tongue up and down my length until she drops her mouth over it again. When she stops, I guess I groan a little. “Don’t worry. I’m starting again in just a second.” There’s a sound I don’t understand, a popping sound, and then she’s back, her lips tight around me. That’s when it happens.

  I feel something cold and wet and suddenly, without warning, something slips into my asshole. “Oh, shit!” I scream out. I can feel her chuckle around me. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Um, yellow.”

  “Brandt, am I hurting you?”

  I think for a second. “No, mistress. You’re not. But―”

  “Then take it like a big boy and you’ll be glad you did. I’m going back to work now. See you on the other side.” Without fanfare, she drops her head again and I feel that finger snaking up inside me. It starts to move, pressing on something, then stroking, and everything inside me tenses. There’s this pressure, a frightening pressure, building in my balls, and I’m not sure what’s about to happen. Part of me is wiggling and squirming, trying to get away, and part of me wants more, deeper and harder, faster and stronger. I’m genuinely afraid, but she told me to take it like a big boy, and I don’t want to be a baby about it. I also don’t want to be injured. Oh, god, what do I do?

  “Um, Mistress Danielle, I, um, it’s really hard … I’m so hard I’m hurting. Oh, please, what are you doing? Will this hurt me?” She hums around me and the sensation is mind-blowing and painful at the same time. “Oh, god, please. I think something’s wrong. It hasn’t felt like this before. Danielle, please, oh, god … Oh, shit, I’m gonna come. I hope that’s okay. Is it okay? I hope that’s okay.” She’s not answering me and my body’s not giving me a lot of options. I’m passing the point of no return and my physical response is no longer under my control. It’s going to happen, and I’m afraid of what will take place when it does. Before I can overthink it, I feel it deep down, that gnawing sensation, and in seconds, a river of cum rips out of my cock and into her throat, pulsing and burning, my balls hard and my dick even harder. All I can do is whisper, “Oh, god, no,” as my body shakes and convulses.

  She doesn’t stop and I grow frantic. “Danielle, please! Oh, god, please! Mistress Danielle, I can’t take any more! Oh! Oh, god! Stop! Please stop!” There’s a safeword. I know there is. But for the life of me, I can’t remember it. All I know is my cock is impossibly hard and she’s driving me insane with her tongue.

  And then she lets it go with a pop and everything stills. Panting and gasping, I lie there, trying to make sense of what just happened, and I feel her kissing down the insides of my thighs. I didn’t like her finger inside me but, oddly, when she pulls it out, I miss it and I want her to put it back in. I’d like to say something, but I don’t know what, and I’m not sure I can form words.

  I don’t have to. “How was that, Brandt?” I hear her ask from somewhere around my knees. She begins to kiss up one thigh, up my groin, and up my chest until she reaches my face. “And how is this?”

  The kiss she gives me is loaded with the taste of my cum, and I’m shocked at how horny that makes me. God, it’s awesome! When she breaks the kiss, I smile. “That was … There aren’t words to describe it. I didn’t like your finger at first, but now I want to do that again.”

  “Oh, don’t worry―we will. Over and over. But there are so many other things I want to teach you, if you want to learn.”

  “I do.” She’s stroking my cock again and it’s hard as a rock. “What now?”

  “Now it’s my turn.” There’s a lot of rustling around on the bed and then I feel heat in front of my face. “This is mine. You can suck it, lick it, whatever you want. Just don’t bite, okay?” she says and chuckles.

  “No, ma’am, um, mistress. Sorry. That’s a hard habit to break, coming from the south,” I explain.

  “I can see why that would be. It’ll take a few weeks but you’ll finally get the hang of it. Now eat my pussy and don’t stop until I come, understand, submissive?”

  She called me submissive. I’m a submissive. That word … Nothing she could’ve called me would’ve been any sweeter. This is amazing. She’s amazing. I can feel her skin against the tip of my nose and I wonder what’s going on. Then I reach out with my tongue and explore.

  And there it is―that littl
e bulb of flesh. She groans as I feel around it with the tip of my tongue, and I realize she’s turned facing my feet. As I start to lick and suck, her hands grasp my cock and she strokes it slowly. That only makes me work faster and harder on her little nub, and the cries she releases spur me on. I’m pleasing my mistress. This is what I was born to do, what I’ve craved my whole life, pleasuring a woman who has the ability to control me. Stopping for a brief moment, I ask, “Am I doing okay?”

  “Yes, submissive. You’re doing great, but be more rhythmic about it, more structured. I need stimulation I can depend on so I can get there reliably. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, mistress.” I tuck back into her, enjoying the scent of her arousal, that musky, sweet scent Mona didn’t want to share with me. Fuck Mona. This is heaven.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s it, babe. Yes. Make me come, submissive. Make your mistress come.” I’m not sure how to do that except to keep doing what I’m doing, so I ramp up the speed a little and she groans loudly. Must be getting it right! Her hands are tightening around my cock and speeding up their stroking when she says, “Oh, god, yeah. Yeah, give it to me, submissive. Make me come for you. That’s it, that’s it … ohhhhh, gaaaaaaahhhhhd. Yes.” There’s wetness everywhere, slippery wetness, and I think I must’ve done it, based on the way she’s shaking and her hips are thrusting. Then she disappears and there’s movement all over the bed again.

  And then I cry out with joy as she lowers herself on me. Every second of my life suddenly gels into this one glorious moment when a woman has her way with me and I’m happy about it. She removes herself and I can feel her moving around before she says, “Open your mouth,” only to have a nipple deposited into it. I do know what to do with that, and I suck and tug for a minute. Then she mounts me again and begins to ride me. Damn, I wish I could see her.

  “You need this,” she says and, almost as though she’d read my thoughts, she lifts the blindfold from my eyes and snaps it off above my head.

  And there she is. The top of her latex suit is unzipped and down around her waist, those tits bouncing, beautiful tits, tits with big, hard nipples. Only the crotch is unzipped from the bottom half of the suit, but those tits―god, I’m so fucking horny and so hard. Watching her as she lifts and lowers herself on me over and over is all I can think about, her snugness and wetness and how her hands feel as she slides them up my belly and tweaks my nipples, shocking me with the sensation, with its pain and joy. I want to close my eyes and tip my head back in pleasure, but I don’t want to miss a second of watching her taking my body and using it for her own satisfaction. “Getting close?”

  I nod. “Oh, yes, mistress. Very, very close.”

  “Then come inside me and I’ll come around you, submissive. Please.”

  I explode. There’s no other term that works. My body is out of control, my hips humping upward, legs stiff and shaking, and I’ve almost forgotten her when I hear her guttural cry. “Oh, god, yes! Yeah, that’s it, submissive. Very good.” In seconds, she crumples into a heap on top of me.

  All I really want to do is wrap my arms around her, but I can’t. Everything inside me wants to cuddle her, cradle her, hold her tight and whisper to her, but my wrists are still bound. Her arms slip around my torso and grip me, and I’m struck by a profound sense of loss. My ability to show her how I feel, to give her that comfort, has been robbed from me, and I want it desperately. “Mistress?”

  “Yes, subbie?”

  “Mistress, I want to hold you,” I whisper, overcome with emotion.

  “Not this time. That will come later. Right now, you should accept being held by me as enough.”

  Something inside me cracks. This isn’t what I thought was going to happen at all. I envisioned this warm, cuddly scene where we held each other and whispered sweet nothings, and that’s not what’s happening here. I can feel the tears start, and I’m helpless to stop them. “But I don’t understand …” I mumble.

  Rising from where she’d collapsed on my chest, she smiles and kisses my cheek. “You’ve never had sex unless it was an emotional tie. You’re going to have to learn to separate love and sex, Brandt. This isn’t love―this is sex.” I start to say something, but she presses a finger to my lips to shush me. “Yes, I love you as another human being, but I’m not in love with you, nor are you in love with me.”

  Now I’m hideously embarrassed. “I didn’t say I was in love with―”

  “Shush. Listen to me. What you’re feeling? It’s the body’s physiological response to sexual activity, nothing more. We have members who’re married but their spouses aren’t members and don’t want to be. They come in here with their spouses’ blessings and scene. Some even have dedicated submissives, and often those submissives are also married to others. What they have here is a service to each other, and there is a fondness borne of that service, but nothing more. They love their spouses. Their kink partners are a service to them, and they respect and love those partners for their willingness. Nothing more. You have to grow to understand that, Brandt.”

  “But sex and love go hand in―”

  “Not necessarily. You’re forty-one. You need to learn that right away. I bet if you asked your brothers, you’d find they’ve scened with many, many submissives they most definitely weren’t in love with. Brandt, this community … It’s the one place where it’s perfectly okay to fuck just for the sake of fucking and nobody feels used or cheated. Do you understand? You have to get to that understanding or you’re not going to be able to deal with this.”

  She’s right and I know it. “I don’t know how to get there.”

  “You’ll figure it out, and I’ll be here to help you. If it’s okay with you, there are a couple of other mistresses here in town I’d like to send you to work with. They will use you mercilessly, and while you’ll enjoy the sexual aspect, you’ll be glad they don’t want to keep you.”

  For reasons I don’t understand, I’d thought we’d scene tonight and I’d be wearing a collar by tomorrow. Now I know that’s not going to happen. It doesn’t work that way, and I have to accept that concept. All I can do is nod. “Yes, please. I think that would help.”

  “Good. I do too. I’ll start working on that, but we need to do this a couple more times before you go to them. And we need to find a club out of town but not too far away where we can scene publicly and you don’t have to worry about being found out. I think doing some public scenes will teach you more about what I’m trying to tell you.”

  Public scenes. The idea terrifies me. Or does it thrill me?

  Honestly, right now, I can’t tell the difference.

  Chapter Two

  The rest of the evening was a blur. We both cleaned up and got dressed. Thankfully, she’d picked out a private room with a nice bath off of it, and that helped. When I asked if we could use that room regularly for that reason, she said she’d certainly try to book it. As we left, she stood and pointed to the floor. I guessed correctly―I knelt there and she pressed her hand to the top of my head. All she said was, “Good job, submissive. Your mistress is pleased. I’ll be in touch.” And just like that, she was gone.

  I’m lying here, thinking about all of it, and daylight is creeping in around the blinds in my bedroom. I’ve got a half-woody, and it’s getting harder as I remember last night and everything we did. She was gentle with me, but I got the distinct impression she could be ruthless, so I’m wondering what that would mean as I stroke myself. As my hand moves, I look down the length of my body and I can kind of see what she meant. It’s a little unruly down there. A quart of white stickiness has just dropped onto my belly when I hear the email notification tone on my phone, so I clean up with a few tissues and grab it.

  Good morning, submissive. I trust you got a good night’s sleep. Do you by any chance know what nights you might be free? And would it be easier for us to text back and forth? Here’s my number in case that would work better. D

  It’s followed by her phone number, so I add it into my contacts
and text back immediately: If you receive this, please let me know.

  I get back: Yes!

  Always on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights, but as long as I come in the back, it won’t matter.

  She responds instantly. Tonight? 8:00?

  That makes me smile. I’ll be there. Same room?

  I’ll check with Brian and let you know. See you then!

  A sense of optimism floods my soul unlike anything I’ve known. There might actually be hope for me yet! It seems she really is interested in helping me. I’m forty-one years old and, for the first time, that long, long tunnel I’ve been dragging myself down has a light at the end of it, and a fairly bright one to boot. Then I think of something and shoot off another quick text.

  BTW, grooming?

  I get a smiley face back, followed by: Shave everything below the stem. Close clip everything above. It doesn’t have to be bare, but it does have to be orderly and neat.

  Got it. Think I can handle that. But I’ll let you be the judge tonight.

  Now I get back two emoticons, both of them laughing with tears dripping from their eyes. I like your sense of humor, Brandt!

  She likes my sense of humor …

  I hop up out of bed and almost dump my phone on the floor as I shoot toward the bathroom. Once my bladder’s emptied, I take a quick look in the mirror, then jump into the shower and get busy. Everything below the stem. Okay, that’s not going to be easy, seeing as how it’s difficult for me to see down there. If I cut myself, I’m doomed.

  But I manage to not do that, and it was easier than I thought. Above the stem, not so much. I try with some little scissors, but it winds up looking ragged, so I just decide what the hell and shave it all off. Then I realize it’s going to be pretty damn itchy when it grows back. That means I’ll have to keep shaving it every fucking day.

  Yep. Guess that’ll be what I have to do. Oh, the sacrifices we make …

  I have a big fog-proof mirror in the shower, so I shave in there. My beard looks good, but I’ve let it get too scraggly down my neck, so that’s gotta go. I need a haircut, but I don’t know anybody to do it here. I’ve been here five months and haven’t had it cut in all that time, so I can probably wait a couple more days. Boone’s not big on haircuts, so I’m sure he doesn’t know anybody. Maybe Melina will.