Yes, Mistress

This erotic story excerpt from Fearless by Elizabeth SaFleur is published with permission.

Erotic sexy kinky story by Elizabeth SaFleur

The first time Steffan saw Sarah, he couldn’t place her age or her nationality. Her beauty was in a class of its own, augmented by an unshakeable sense of self that ran so deep in her she had to have been born with it. He, on the other hand, had scraped together bits and pieces of confidence, laying them like pieces of chain mail until he had enough to deflect even the most outrageous attacks on his ego. In other words, he’d come about his maturity and confidence the usual way. Sarah’s had to have been a gift from the Gods. From the second he’d met her, he’d tacked her image on a mental wall and held up other pictures of women against hers. None of them had measured up.

She flicked the clamps with her fingernails, and Laurent hissed.

“Too much?” she asked him.

“No, Mistress,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Nicer than clothespins, don’t you think?” she asked him.

“Yes, Mistress.” His bobbing cock authenticated his response. The pain aroused him.

She strode back to the table of instruments and chose the largest, black leather paddle. They’d used it on the redhead the night they’d topped together. She handed it to him. “Care to do the honors?”

Steffan took it without an ounce of hesitation. Laurent had a voracious appetite for impact play. He’d once flogged and whipped Laurent for two hours before Laurent gasped yellow.

“His dossier says he can come from spanking,” she said.

Laurent reacted with a feral moan.

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“Also from flogging, and serving a Mistress’s needs between her legs. I’ve seen Laurent eat out a woman dozens of times, his hands manacled behind him so he couldn’t touch himself or her with his come spurting over his belly and her legs.”

When Laurent’s whimper sounded like a plea, her eyes sprang to him. Her eyelids dropped, and one corner of her mouth tipped as she placed her hands on his pecs. Did the thought of him going down on her make her wet?

He circled Laurent. The man’s ass clenched as if in readiness for the paddle. Steffan knew it was more likely from his desperation to come. Sarah’s hands on him had to have the same impact as having his cock sucked. He’d known that sure, confident, and at times, compassionate touch of hers. Heady stuff for a Dom and impossibly arousing for a sub like Laurent. Pre-cum leaked from the head of Laurent’s visibly pulsing cock. The man was in a bad way and they’d barely gotten started. Steffan chuckled to himself darkly. He wasn’t any better condition, his cock beginning to ache just from being so near to Sarah.

Tucking the paddle between his elbow and side, he unbuttoned his shirt, letting the two sides splay open, and rolled up his sleeves.

A rustle of fabric drew his attention back to Sarah. She stood in a sheer nude thong with her skirt puddled at her feet.

A dark trail of wet lined the seam between her legs and damn if his cock didn’t harden further. She unbuttoned that prim, white blouse—the kind that fired the imagination of fifteen-year-old boys with librarian fantasies. God, her dark raspberry nipples were easily visible through a bra made of the same sheer material as her thong. His mouth watered at the thought of how they’d taste. She stepped out of her skirt and reached down for it, not wobbling once in those heels.

He’d asked her to keep those shoes on while he took her from behind as she lay over his quartz bar top. That memory of being buried between her legs, enjoying her, exploding in her, surfaced so clearly as it had many times over the last two years.

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Her eyes moved to Laurent whose fists clenched around links, his fingers whitening with strain. Her heels clicked against the concrete as she took careful steps toward him. She captured one of his legs between her knees and pressed her crotch into his thigh. “Feel my hot pussy, Laurent? That’s what I might let you have later if you’re a good boy. You did say once you wished to take care of me.”

That’s all the man needed to hear to go all night, if necessary.

“It would be my honor, Mistress,” Laurent said, half whisper, half gasp.

She pushed off him, a smile forming on her face. She turned to him and the woman of endless surprises, surprised him once more. She winked. Steffan stood feet away from someone he desired with unprecedented strength and who turned him away repeatedly. He was here now. He’d make the best of it.

“Such a beautiful man,” she said under her breath.

“Told you,” Steffan said. “Falling in love. It’s inevitable.”

“Me? Or you?”

My, how quickly she’d entered his brain.

“We’re Dominants,” he said. “We want it all.”

She laid a hand across Laurent’s cheek and smiled into his eyes. Laurent tensed from anticipating the endorphins she’d cause, not fear of pain. Laurent flourished by proving he could endure whatever a Dom handed out—another reason Steffan trusted only her with Laurent.

For a split second, he wrestled with a thought that it was her unshakable adherence to safety that both comforted and irritated him. She shielded herself with protocol. It kept him from cracking her heart. Was that what he wanted to do? Yes. He wanted inside her emotions. He wanted her to lay down her defenses.? As she stood proudly in those heels, her eyes flicking to him as if waiting for his participation, how could he have deluded himself he was only here for Laurent?

Laurent groaned when she cupped his balls with her other hand. “I’m going to leave this free, Laurent. You are not to come until I say so.”

“I won’t.”

Steffan pulled back and landed a crack across his backside.

“I won’t, Mistress,” he corrected.

She turned and placed her back against Laurent, capturing his cock between the small of her back and his groin. “Whenever you’re ready, Steffan.”

Inventive, he thought. Laurent was going to get to feel her body but not have access.

Steffan pulled back and landed another blow against Laurent’s ass, pitching him into her. He hadn’t used his full force. He didn’t want Laurent to send her flying off her feet and into the mirror. He shouldn’t have bothered to be careful for she had planted her feet wide, and Laurent would make sure his Mistress wasn’t harmed. That, he knew for sure.

Laurent dropped his head so his face got closer to her hair and inhaled. When he lifted those eyelashes that women swooned over, Sarah was staring back at him in the mirror wearing a half-smile. This was going to be torture for both him and Laurent, and she knew it.

Laurent stared at him in the mirror. Don’t you dare hold back, Steffan, his eyes relayed. That little bit of nonsense earned him a light blow, as a warning.

“Don’t even think about calling the shots here,” he whispered into his ear. The warning had its intended effect. Laurent lowered his eyes.

For long minutes he rained blows on Laurent. The man’s hips banged against the small of her back, his cock rubbing against her with no hope of release. Laurent’s grunts grew more frustrated as she pushed herself against him, her hair teasing his chest, her scent rising from the friction between their bodies.

“More,” she instructed, and raised one leg, placing her heel against the mirror, giving them both a view of her pussy, glistening and wet.

She expertly balanced on one leg while pushing herself against Laurent’s body for leverage.

He was sure Laurent was having the same reaction inside—let go, drop everything, wrap arms around her to steady her. Yet, if either did, she’d be pissed.

Sarah began to undulate against him, and Laurent’s back muscles strained. His ass clenched, a strangled please on his lips evident. To be mashed against such a glorious body but not be able to touch and bound only by his self-discipline had to be excruciating for him.

Steffan paddled Laurent, hard, for an excruciating twenty minutes, not relenting until his ass was deep purple in the red light. He almost stopped when Sarah slipped her fingers into her panties. He mastered himself quickly, or fuck him, he would come in his pants from the sight in the mirror. He pulled out every trick he’d ever used to keep himself from spewing. She panted hard as she worked herself. Laurent’s chest rapidly expanded and contracted. His fists clenched so hard on the chains above Steffan worried he might tear the skin.

She brought her leg down and pivoted so fast Laurent tumbled forward, a cry bursting from his lips as the nipple clamps hit the end of their chains. She removed the clamps from his nipples and left them to dangle. She leaned against the mirror and widened her stance.

“Laurent, let go of the chains and drop to your knees. Taste me.”

Such direct words from the woman shook Steffan from his growing stupor as he realized her intent. Laurent had not been in such a daze, as he instantly let go and fell to his knees. He buried his face between her legs in a second. Her mouth dropped opened as he gripped her thighs and his mouth latched on to her. Wet, sucking sounds mixed with the rattle of the chains still swaying in front of him.

Sarah stared at Steffan, her eyes glazing in pleasure as Laurent took his fill. Fuck him, he should be causing that reaction. He should be triggering that flush across her chest, her cheeks. He stalked forward, placing both hands on either side of her face, widening his legs so Laurent could continue his work below him. The rise in her chin, the challenge that filled her eyes, didn’t make him falter one bit.

She turned him on. Not because he had an interest in being on the receiving end of her domination, but because she was so clearly unfettered in her power—something he’d always admired about women.

He leaned in, fisting her hair and took her mouth. She opened to him. He savaged her lips, driven by greed and the need to claim, and she responded with equal ferocity. His groin ached from lack of contact as she met him with every bit of her power, dueling with him in something as simple as a kiss.

Her hands yanked at his belt. When those soft hands met his cock, he moaned into her mouth. She drew him out, gentler than he expected given her assault on his trousers, and stroked. Her touches, her mouth, the wet sucking sounds below him, would drive any sane man mad. He had to have this woman underneath him.

He released her mouth, both of them panting.

“Come for me,” she said.

“Not unless it’s inside you,” he told her. “Laurent, you heard your Mistress.”

She pulled her hand free from him, and he heard Laurent’s guttural release below him. Only one of them took orders. And it wasn’t him.

*

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