The Secret Life of a Submissive and Bonds of Love: 2-book BDSM Erotica Collection. Sarah K

The Secret Life of a Submissive and Bonds of Love: 2-book BDSM Erotica Collection - Sarah K


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I’d be in bed with her and she would tell me what she wanted: “Hold my hands down, tighter – now fuck me faster, faster. That’s it and touch me there – just there …” If I didn’t do it right she’d take my hands and show me exactly what it was she wanted, and when she didn’t get it she was only too happy to do it herself.

      ‘Up until then the only sex I’d ever had was fumbling around in the dark in the back of a car or in the sports pavilion. Just getting it was enough without thinking about technique.’

      Max laughed. ‘I’ve got this memory of her, naked except for leather riding boots and bright red lipstick, showing me exactly how she liked to be stroked. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I’m amazed we didn’t get ourselves arrested, some of things we got up to.

      ‘She used to tell me I was too British, too uptight; she was probably right.

      ‘I’d been seeing someone back home called Nola. I wasn’t that serious about our relationship, but I knew she was. We’d known each other since we were at primary school. Everyone, including our families, was expecting that eventually we’d settle down and get married. She was as steady as a rock, Nola, and she wanted us to get engaged and save up for a house. She used to write to me every week, telling me all about her job in Boots and how all the family were doing.

      ‘Nola was the kind of girl that good boys want to settle down with. She drew the line at French kissing and a bit of heavy petting. Her mum and dad were really strict and she was the same: she thought that nice girls didn’t have sex before marriage and barely tolerated it afterwards. She thought that we should wait until we were married before going “the whole way”, whereas Eva could barely wait until we got out of the bus station.’

      Max laughed again and shook his head. ‘So anyway one weekend, I’d got it into my head we were going to have a few beers and head back to Eva’s flat, but she’d got other plans. She said that she had a place she wanted to show me. Her English was really good, and she had a funny gravelly voice, and I was totally smitten: I’d have followed her anywhere – anything to keep her sweet. After all, we’d got the whole weekend and I didn’t want her getting mad with me.’

      Max grinned at me. ‘And so we headed to a bar in the town centre where we had gone the first time we met. I remember saying, “Is this it? We’ve been here before …”

      ‘Eva shook her head. “No, of course it isn’t. Be patient,” she said.

      ‘So we got a table and ordered. Apparently it was too early to go wherever she wanted to take me. But it felt like something was going on. She seemed off, edgy, distracted and excited, her eyes working the room, wandering around the bar, glancing up at the clock, watching people come and go as if she was waiting for something to happen. It was nerve-racking. I kept wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

      ‘The beers didn’t take the edge off the mood. I kept wondering if I was being set up. There were plenty of stories about honeytraps and guys getting mugged after following some woman down a dark alley, but I kept thinking: if I was going to get rolled, surely they wouldn’t have waited two months to do it? Maybe it was something else; maybe Eva was planning to dump me. Maybe she had met someone else.

      ‘I found myself watching the door, watching Eva, watching the people coming in and out of the bar. By the time we left at around eleven I was ready for just about anything. And I wasn’t expecting anything good.

      ‘We grabbed a cab and headed across town. The taxi dropped us at the bottom of the steps that went down into an alley, and it was packed, buzzing with people all on a Friday night out. There were bars and nightclubs with people spilling out of the open doorways; we had to squeeze our way between them.

      ‘I was hanging back, waiting for whatever it was to kick off, till Eva got hold of my arm and pushed her way through. We made our way down the alley to a club. Bouncers look much the same the world over, and there were two big guys in standard dark jeans and leather jackets on the door. As we walked up to them, one of them grinned and touched his cap, and Eva saluted.

      ‘I asked how they knew her. She said she was a regular and that it was one of her favourite places and that she worked there sometimes.

      ‘I asked her why we hadn’t gone there before and she just grinned and said that she had needed to know me a bit better before sharing all her secrets.

      ‘“What secrets?” I asked.

      ‘She giggled and tapped the side of her nose. “Soon,” she said, “soon. Relax, it’s nothing bad …”

      ‘Anyhow, we joined the queue. There was no name above the club door, no sign; everything looked normal. The only thing that struck me as odd was that lots of punters in the queue were wearing long coats – it was a warm evening, so that was strange – and a lot of the others were carrying holdalls.

      Eva had a maxi coat on but she almost always wore it.

      ‘We got to the front desk and there were two huge middle-aged women on the front desk taking the money. They looked liked drag queens: heavy make-up, low-cut tops, smoking like trains. It was obvious that they knew Eva, and while they were saying their hellos the pair of them kept eyeing me up and down. One of them waved us through.

      ‘Inside there was a little bar off to one side. The whole place was heaving with people. It was like a rabbit warren and I couldn’t get my head around why we were there. People were smoking and drinking at the bar. To one side of the entrance was a flight of stairs going up and another going down, and a corridor leading off to God knows where. The corridor was lined with doors. There were people everywhere.

      ‘I’d been to a lot of clubs but this one felt different. I kept thinking I’d made a big mistake going here on my own, and that I should have waited until Charlie and Greta had been able to come with us.

      ‘But Eva was like, “Relax, it’s a good place. Good people. You will like it.”

      ‘That wasn’t how I felt.

      ‘She took hold of my arm and took me through the bar; I could hear music and I was thinking maybe there was a band. Then we got to another set of double doors. I remember looking down at her and realizing she was trembling, and I wondered what the fuck was going on. I thought maybe she was cold but then she looked up at me, and she was all shiny-eyed and excited. Just before she pushed open the doors, she stretched up on tiptoes and said, “Don’t be afraid.”

      ‘Talk about freaking you out. Then she pushed open the doors.’

      ‘What did you think was going on?’ I asked, hanging on his every word.

      Max laughed. ‘Truth? I hadn’t got a clue. We’d been warned about bomb threats and terrorism – there was lots of bad stuff going on – and because this place hadn’t got a name outside I just kept thinking: I’m walking straight into trouble here.

      ‘Anyway, the doors opened. I had no idea what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn’t what I saw. The room was full of people in all kinds of costumes. It was like a carnival. The music was really loud, and there were strobe lights and a smoke machine. There were people in leather, feathers, bare-breasted, bare-chested; some were dancing. But it wasn’t just the audience that surprised me but what was going on on stage.

      ‘There was a naked blonde woman, built like a dancer, and she was strapped to a frame and being flogged by a huge black guy with a shaved head and dressed as a pirate. Both of them had been covered in oil, or maybe it was sweat, but anyway their bodies glistened under the spotlights, and her whole back was criss-crossed with red welts.

      ‘I didn’t know what to say or where to look – I’d never seen anything like it, not even in magazines. I wondered why nobody was helping her – crazy – so my first thought in a bondage club was that someone really ought to rescue the blonde; but my second was that she didn’t look like she’d thank me for saving her. In a cage next to the frame was another girl, naked except for a cat mask, who had her wrists chained above her head and who was writhing in time to the music. And I got the impression that she was


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