Let Us Eat Cake Read online

  “I’m really turned on right now,” I said, hoping this would prompt him to take me right then and there or in whatever way he wanted.

  “Too bad,” he replied, taking a sip from his tea. “I haven’t finished yet.”

  “Will you play with my breasts after you drink your tea?” There was a pleading in my voice that hung in the air between us. We were both aware of what I wanted.

  “That depends.”

  His wants, on the other hand, were not clear from the severity of his tone.

  “On?”

  “Your permission.”

  “I give you full permission. I’ll even strap myself into the swing for you. Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  Absolutely! Cross my heart.

  “Anything,” I insisted.

  I just wanted him to rip off my dress and unclasp the black cotton bra that protected my nipples. I wanted to expose myself to him completely.

  “And do you want to come for me.”

  “Yes! Yes!”

  “Call me Master when you say that.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  With those words, I squirmed in my spot, sensing the mounting tension that longed for release. Never did I suspect that the word Master would unleash such a potent spell.

  “I like calling you that,” I confessed.

  “Good. I like hearing it. You’ll call me that from now on when we’re playing.”

  Ooh. Instructions. I could do that.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “That’s a good girl.”

  He petted my hair, like I was his lapdog. If any other guy had done this, I’d have been insulted, but the way he did it made me feel like being in his care was the best place for me.

  “What will you call me, Master?”

  “Well, let’s see now, Rachel, what suits you? My little slave? My slut?”

  The words melted like the finest chocolate on a warm tongue.

  “I’m both of those things to you. Your slave. Your slut.” Repeating the words back was like offering myself to him on a platter and that was exactly what I wanted to do.

  “You’re eager, aren’t you?”

  I nodded obediently. “Very, Master.”

  “And here you said you were new to submission. That’s not what I think. I think you’ve been this way for as long as you can remember.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  “You’ve just never met anyone who recognized you for the good little slut that you really are. Isn’t that right?”

  He was so right about that. As he had been about everything. I had never met anyone who could talk to me the way he did and elicit the responses he got from me. My clit throbbed.

  “Yes, Master. It is.”

  Hearing myself capitulate was the ultimate turn-on. I wanted to please him more than I could express. I was so wet for him, so anxious to go farther.

  “Master?” I implored.

  “Yes?”

  “Can we go back into your special room?” I wanted to peek into his private chambers so badly. Whatever he had in there, I wanted to know about. I ached to be taken.

  “Patience, my good little slut,” he said. “My, you are turned on. You’re about ready to come in your panties right now, aren’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “That’ll never do. How can I torture you if I’ve already let you come?”

  Ugh. Logic. At a time like this. He was being impossible.

  “You can’t, Master.”

  “That’s right, my precious.”

  I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, feeling like a pouty pin-up model.

  “You will just have to control your urge to come. Can you do that?”

  No! No! No!

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “It’s not about trying, Rachel. Can you control yourself?”

  I huffed. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” he repeated, looking at me sternly. “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Master. I won’t come if you don’t want me to.”

  “That’s a good girl. I control your orgasm now. You come for me or you don’t come at all.”

  Gulp.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter Nine

  He took my hand and led me back down the hallway. We walked past the room with the swing and my heart sank.

  “Aren’t we going in there?” I asked, still hopeful that he would change his mind.

  “You’re not ready.”

  “I am,” I pleaded. “I am.”

  “Earlier you were not, so I will not believe you now just because you are lusty.”

  Lusty was the word. I don’t think I’d ever been called that before, but it described me to a tee. I would have said anything, done anything, just to be given the sweet release of orgasm.

  Jeff opened the door to his bedroom. It was a minimalist place painted gray and the bed was covered by a dark duvet. There was a black dresser, but otherwise, no artwork on the walls or other decorative accents. On his bedside table was a book, face down. I went for it.

  “Stop right there, my little slut,” he ordered. “Did I give you permission to snoop?”

  “No.”

  “I know you want to see what I’m reading, but you’ll have to earn the privilege.”

  “All right,” I said, willing to do whatever it took. I did really badly want to know what book he was in the middle of.

  “Get on the bed.” His command was the elixir I had craved.

  “Gladly.”

  “But first pull off your panties and give them to me.” The way he ordered me around was like a military officer telling me to drop and give him twenty.

  “Yes, Master.”

  I did as he’d said, leaving only my stockings. I handed over the lacy undergarments, soaked with my desire. He held them to his face and took in a long deep breath, closing his eyes.

  “You’re magnificent,” he said. “Now. Lie down.”

  Putting my head on his pillows, I looked to him for further guidance. I was still wearing my dress, anxious to have him rip it off, but sensing he didn’t have that in mind anymore.

  “Finger yourself,” he said, still towering above me, watching.

  I was acting out my very own solo porn fantasy. I’d tuned into webcam girls before, mostly out of curiosity. In front of Jeff, I acted out what I’d longed to do, but had never had the right conditions for. The confidence it took to oooh and ahhhh at my own touch in front of him was outstanding. With each flick of my clit, I thought I would make myself come, but I knew that I wasn’t supposed to.

  “Lick your fingers,” he ordered.

  I did. “Mmmm.”

  “Describe the taste.”

  “Kind of sweet. Salty.”

  “Spread your legs now. Let me see how wet you are.”

  As my thighs brushed against the soft blanket he’d thrown atop his duvet, the exposure threatened to undo me. Though still wearing my dress, I was as naked as I’d ever been in front of anyone.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you,” I said.

  “You want me how?”

  “I want you inside me.”

  “You want me to fuck you,” he corrected.

  I nodded.

  “So tell me that.”

  “I want you to fuck me.” The words reverberated. I had not said words as strong as that before, preferring euphemism to hardcore language.

  Jeff undid his belt, ripped it off and threw it to the ground. He undid his jeans, letting them slide to the floor. He stepped out of them and removed his socks. When he stood back up, I saw his erection beneath the boxers. He pulled his shirt over his head and revealed a muscular build. He produced a condom from the top drawer of the dresser, and in seconds, that was all he was wearing.

  He filled me. I gasped at the stretching, the accommodating of his enormity. He had me in every way I could imagine. First he was on top of me, then beneath. I was on my knees, then on my back. Finally, he had me on top
of him again, riding him as he held my waist.

  “I’m close,” he said, nearly panting. “How do you want me?”

  “Like this.”

  With that, he let go. He throbbed inside me, pulling my hips to his. A loud groan came from deep within him and it was at that precise moment my own release came. With his cock hitting my inner wall at just the right angle, and the sense of him filling me, I longed to surrender completely.

  He put his arms around me and squeezed me tightly, his cock still in me. We were still for what seemed like a long time. I listened to him breathing, feeling no need for words.

  Then, he motioned to stand, although I was still on top of him. He sat up, adjusting my legs to wrap around his waist. I held onto him as he stood.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re going to have the biggest orgasm of your life.”

  “I am?” Okay!

  He carried me out of the bedroom and turned into the other room. There was an ache in me, a longing that needed satisfying. I could barely stand the curiosity, as I was suspended between what had just happened and what was about to occur. With my legs wrapped around Jeff’s waist, I was at his mercy.

  He sat me down in the swing.

  “Give me your wrists,” he ordered.

  I did as he’d said. His hands were warm and I liked the sight of mine in them.

  “Do you like satin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like to be tied with it?”

  Oh boy. Now or never. I was nervous, but excited beyond words. I could barely answer.

  “Yes,” I managed. My mouth felt dry.

  He opened a drawer and pulled out a length of dark purple shiny rope. I gulped. This was it.

  “Don’t be nervous.”

  I remembered what he had told me about how I would always be in control and it allowed me to surrender to his orders. “Yes, Master.”

  “You’re a good little slut. I really liked coming in your sweet pussy, but I’m not done with you yet.”

  He took my wrists and bound them together. Though they were separated by an inch of rope that lay coiled between them, the tying rendered movement impossible. I had fantasized about this, but watching the scenario unfold before me was surreal. Then Jeff attached my tied wrists to a link chain. As he pulled on one end, he hoisted my wrists into the air. I gasped.

  “You’re stuck now,” he said. “Try to get away.”

  I wriggled. “I can’t.”

  “You’re mine. Your tits belong to me now. So does your orgasm.”

  Silently I begged his emerald eyes for mercy, but his expression told me he had plans.

  From a cabinet, he produced a paddle. I squirmed in my seat at the mere sight of it. He came up to me, holding the black thing in his hand.

  “Kiss it.”

  I did. The leathery scent turned me on in a way I never would have imagined. I realized it was everywhere in the room—on the swing, in the opened box of ties and right in front of my lips.

  “I can tell from your nipples that you’re turned on.”

  “More than ever, Master.”

  “Then tell me what you want.”

  Well, since he asked…

  “I want to come.”

  “Patience!” he yelled. Then he struck my nipples with the paddle. There was an immediate sting, followed by a hot burning sensation. I wriggled in my seat, giving myself over to him.

  He tapped each nipple again, this time with less pressure. The rhythmic repetition of the paddling shot right through my body to my clit. If his cock had been inside me, if I’d been on top of him like before, I would be coming. I moaned.

  “You’re dripping wet,” he said.

  Jeff lay down his paddle on the credenza adjacent to the swing. He approached me with nothing but his hands this time, cupping my breasts in his palms.

  “Rachel Perkins, you are so sexy,” he said.

  He pulled on the chain again, and the tug lifted me right out of the swing seat to a standing position. My arms tingled from the confinement as I watched Jeff tie the swing to a pole. I guessed we wouldn’t need it anymore.

  Standing, I was about a head shorter than Jeff, though it felt as though he towered over me because of his control of the scene. He took my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed a lot harder than anyone had ever done. I yelped in pain, but loved every second of it.

  His cock was hard again. It sprang to attention as I writhed in my place.

  “Open yourself to me.”

  I spread my feet apart slightly, but my possible range of movement was limited.

  “Up you go,” he said, lifting my thigh up to his waist. I jumped off the ground and he caught me. I wrapped my legs around his middle as I hung suspended from the top of the swing’s structure.

  “That’s my girl,” Jeff said. “Let me fuck your pussy once more.”

  He reached into the side table drawer and pulled out another condom. With his teeth, he ripped the square package open and before I knew it, he was ready. I moaned and tossed my head back, thereby lengthening my torso to give him space to enter me. Slowly his cock slid into me once more. My buttocks cradled in his palms, he fucked me steadily. He reached down, took my nipple in his mouth, and that was it. I moaned so loud I knew his neighbors could hear.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Come hard for me.”

  Just as he said the words, I let go completely. My Kegel muscles tightened and released around his girth.

  “Oh, baby. You’re too much,” he said. “I’m coming again.”

  Deep inside, I felt the convulsions of his ejaculate. He filled me again with warmth, just as I clenched onto him. He cradled me in his arms and held me tight against his chest. With the flick of a lever, he released my hands. My wrists were still bound together, but he held me. Jeff carried me back to his bed and laid me down.

  I was limp on the bed, my energy spent. He lay down next to me and untied my wrists.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Shhh.”

  He touched my face very delicately, like he was inspecting every aspect of me. He brushed an unruly lock of hair from my forehead and kissed me deeply.

  * * * *

  I woke up to find myself in an oversized V-neck shirt, beneath his covers. The sun poured in through Jeff’s bedroom window and I sat up in bed, propping his pillow up behind my back so I could lean on the headboard. He opened the door and came in with two cups of coffee.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “You too.” I smiled, then fixed my hair.

  “You’re beautiful in the morning,” he said.

  Part of me wanted to hide. Another part knew that I was forever done with hiding. Jeff had seen me. He sat down beside me and took my hand. He held it to his lips. It was a sight I was getting used to and I liked that very much. I wanted him to always do this.

  “Would you like cake with your coffee or after?” he asked with a naughty look.

  “Cake? Now?”

  I considered his rather unorthodox breakfast meal suggestion, but then I realized that cake had brought us together. I’d never look at that particular dessert in quite the same way ever again.

  “Perfect,” I answered, smiling widely. “Let us eat cake.”

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Love Uninhibited

  Destiny Moon

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  When I first saw Hunter, I thought he was the cutest. His face put me at ease. It wouldn’t be right to call him ruggedly handsome like Pierce Brosnan or anything, but I’d never know how to talk to a guy like that anyway. I could barely talk to Hunter, who was a slightly balding, hairy guy with a tendency to wear T-shirts with logos or sayings like ‘Dessert is Cheaper than Therapy’.

  “You’re new,” he said, passing my desk. I wasn’t used to talking to men at all and was doubtful of everyone in the big city of Boston.

  “I am,” I replied.


  “I like your glasses,” he said.

  I touched them. “Thanks. They belonged to my grandmother.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Bona fide 1950’s elk horn.”

  He smiled and walked on. Whenever he passed my desk, I squirmed.

  Everything in the city was exciting and different. I had my own little room in a shared house just a fifteen-minute walk from the office. It was not where I expected to be at age twenty-six, but life was full of surprises. There were restaurants everywhere with all kinds of food imaginable, and I was surprised to find that I was even kind of fashionable in my own way. I’d gotten accustomed to sewing my own clothes back home and here women stopped me on the streets.

  “Where’d you get that gorgeous retro dress?” one lady asked.

  I showed off my A-frame hem. “This old thing? I made it.”

  “No way!” she said. “You should start your own business.”

  “Would people buy stuff like this?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding? I will. I’ll be your first customer.”

  So that was how I came to know Dalia, who became my first friend since I’d left Utah and my old married life behind. Dalia came over for tea on Sundays, took me to the movies and even talked about that dreaded topic—men.

  “Are you seeing anyone yet?” she asked one weekend.

  I shook my head. “There’s this one guy at work, but he only talks to me for a minute at a time.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “I think so.”

  “Ask him out.”

  “I could never do that.”

  “Maya, you’re going to have to do something sooner or later. You’re way too awesome to be a spinster forever.”

  “A divorcée,” I corrected. “Nothing wrong with being single.”

  “I know there’s nothing wrong with it, but don’t you want the thrill of a new lover? The swoon of being in a man’s arms again?”

  She sounded so enthusiastic I felt myself blush. “I don’t know if they’re worth the trouble.”

  “Who’s this guy at work?”

  “His name’s Hunter.”

  “Don’t you sometimes picture yourself in his embrace?”