Friday, 1 June 2012
Excerpt - Being His Bitch
Bound by Lust is out on sale!
Edited by the wonderful wordsmith Shanna Germain, and subtitled "romantic stories of submission and sensuality," this is an anthology of stories where BDSM meets love. Ideal for the reader who wants to move on from Fifty Shades... I'd have thought ;-)
Here's an excerpt from my contribution, Being His Bitch, which is themed about petplay. Rosie and Dev are off for a night out at their kink-club...
To finish off my costume, we had a collar with a dog-tag dangling from it and a chain leash with a leather loop. Engraved on the disc was the legend Naughty Little Bitch. We could’ve got that done discreetly ourselves, using one of those machines you find in pet stores, but Dev made me go into the engraver's shop and order it in person from the man behind the counter. The guy gave me one hell of a look, but didn't ask any questions, and I emerged from the shop with my panties so wet and my legs so wobbly that I could hardly walk straight.
“All done?” Dev asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, leaning my head against his chest.
He knew what that meant. Taking the disc from me with one hand, he put the other on my ass and gave me a squeeze and a pat. “Good girl.” I whimpered and rubbed up against him, but he just chuckled. “Save it for Saturday night.”
By Saturday I was strung out on anticipation and so inflamed with arousal that Dev had to order me to stop touching myself as we drove into the city. I shed my coat in the cloakroom with a feeling of profound relief. Dev clipped the leash to my collar and used it to pull me to him and plant a kiss on my lips, all slippery, possessive tongue, reminding me where my focus lay for the evening. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Already people were checking me out, there in the lobby. I was aware of grins and raised eyebrows and nods. Under my paint I was naked, and shaved as smooth as silk. I looked respectable from a distance but incredibly naughty close-to, and that made my nipples stand out like switches ready to be flicked.
“I love you, Rosie,” he growled. “So fucking much. You're so beautiful.” Then he tugged the chain. “Heel, bitch.”
We ascended the stairs slowly, morphing into character with every step, his pace proud and easy, my obedient place at his side and one step behind. Playing this particular game is, for me, the ultimate in intimacy. Playing it in public for the first time was taking our trust in one another to a whole new level.
We went into the bar first and queued so that Dev could order drinks—bottled beer for him, bottled water for me. As soon as he stopped walking I sank to my knees by his leg, waiting patiently as a good dog should.
“Hello Dev.” Black leather chaps loomed over me. It was Bill, a Club friend and someone we had played with before, but I didn't try to greet him. I was being a mute animal, after all. “Nice dog you've got there.”
“What's her name?”
“May I stroke her?”
“Go ahead. She likes having her chest rubbed.” Dev turned away slightly to give his order to the barman, and Bill stooped to scratch me gently behind the ears—my real ears.
I opened my mouth, panting a little and leaning into the caress. It was stuffy down here among the forest of legs. I could smell leather and spilt beer. The front of my admirer's pants were tented by a bulge, but that didn't mean anything in particular: most of the guys here walk round with a semi the whole night, and I can't speak for all the girls, but my pussy is open and juicy and fluttering from the moment we walk in. Bill crouched to caress the smooth cream blaze of my chest, stroking my breasts, and I shut my eyes in pleasure, pushing those orbs up into his hand. I'm a dog. Anybody may stroke me, so long as my master gives permission. Anybody.
"Good girl, Princess,” he murmured. His fingers flicked my bare nipples. “You like that, don't you?”
I didn't answer, but as Dev turned back to us, I caught the tips of Bill's fingers with my tongue and licked them, and he laughed.
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