Punished by the Dom: Stella's Submissiveness Challenge (3 page)

I was silent and then started to protest. My sex life shouldn't be taken to represent everyone else's -
it hadn't been
too
great
before, but that was because of bad timing, stress, inexperienced boyfriends, my own lack of experience…

The list could've gone on, but
Morgan interrupted.

"Yes, I can tell you've had a terrible sex life till me," he said sarcastically, "But that's the point. Sex
could
be great without one person taking control and the other just enjoying it, but it never is. Separating the roles improves things for both people involved - they both know exactly what they're getting and they just have to enjoy it."

No awkwardness, I thought to myself, none of that wondering "does he like this" and "was this good for you."

"But you can just spell things out clearly in a non-BDSM relationship," I protested.

"Yes. But people never do that. Vanilla relationships are all about uncomfortable compromise. Neither person's completely happy. It's better to find someone you're already compatible with than try to mold them to become compatible with you."

I thought back to the ex who'd wanted anal sex but hadn't known how to go about it. "But what if your partner sucks at being a dom, or is a terrible submissive?"

"Since they already know what they want to do, it's up to them to learn more about what to do to perform well. Improving their skills makes things better for everyone."

"That makes sense. But some people are great at vanilla sex…"

"Yep, and th
ose
guys and gals
are rare and
get raved about and worshipped like idols. People who can find their perfect compliment tend to stick with each other and be happy together, but we're not talking about those rare and lucky folks here are we? We're talking about whether
you
like BDSM."

He stared at me pointedly and I tried not to lower my gaze. His chocolate eyes were intense but I was determined not to be swayed.

This was my second day as a submissive, and I wasn't about to throw in the towel. I s
tabbed
a piece of
roast capsicum
with my fork, and said, stubbornly, "I don't like BDSM and I still think it's not that great. You're convincing me that it might be right for some people, but it's not right for everyone."

Morgan chuckled. "Sure, I'll give you that." He indicated my fork, "Not everyone likes
roast capsicum
, but you seem to. And my question is, do you like BDSM? Your body says you do."

He gave an annoying smirk but I frowned at him. Orgasms didn't have to be truth serum.

"I haven't really had enough time to think about it," I said. That much at least was true. "I might have had an orgasm or two
with you
, but I don't like BDSM."

"Hmm."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. I could tell that Morgan was trying to figure out how to get me to admit I liked being a submissive. On my part, I was trying to think of how to deny liking it
,
when I kept climaxing under his hands.

Morgan changed the topic of conversation and asked me about my ex-boyfriends. I told him about my three serious boyfriends, and left out the string of boys I'd gone out with for only a couple of dates before we called it quits.

I didn't have much to reveal and was happy to turn the tables on Morgan. Morgan, however, was not so happy to answer my question. He shifted uncomfortably and revealed how through college, he understood that he preferred to be more controlling in bed, and then later understood about being a dominant.

After college he become a foreign exchange trader and would spend most of his waking hours trading currencies, leaving little time for relationships. He'd had a string of casual, mainly-sex relationships, where he learnt more about being a good dom. By the time he'd earned enough from trading to buy a majority share in the Treasury, he'd only had one serious relationship.

After becoming the owner and COO of the Treasury, Morgan had a hard time finding the right woman. His relationships would never last more than a month or three at most - there was always something lacking. The sex was great, but there didn't seem to be anything beyond that.

I commiserated with his story, but I couldn't help saying, "Maybe it's because you focus too much on the sex. Maybe you should find someone you like spending time with, first."

Morgan gave me a funny look when I said that. Finally, he admitted, "
It's nice to have someone to joke around with and all, but it's hard to find someone who's smart and independent
and
likes to be a submissive."

I couldn't stop myself from leaning forward and saying in a sultry voice, "Maybe I could help you there, sailor."

Morgan's jaw dropped open and then we both laughed at my joke. 

Morgan had produced a boxed DVD set of
Mad Men
and I squealed with delight. Although I'm in my late twenties, I'm in love with the series and of course, the roughish Jon Hamm.

But when we were about to settle down to watch it, his phone rang and he went off to another room to talk. He came back after a few minutes, apologetic and explaining that he'd need to go into work for a few hours.

"Some jerk's been trying to count cards at the blackjack table, and we need to make sure who his gang is and then talk to them. I don't want
wannabes thinking that Treasury
pits are an easy target."

"It's ok." I smiled understandingly. "It's an emergency. And we'll see each other later tonight, right?"

Morgan grinned. "Yeah. I was thinking I'd take you out to a nice dinner, you
know, and then afterwards…"

He raised an eyebrow suggestively and I laughed. "Well,
Master
," I couldn't help but tease, "Why don't you take care of your work before making after-dinner plans."

"Hmm. Well, make sure you behave."

Morgan left to get some things from his bedroom and when he came out he told me to spread my legs and bend over.

"Why?"

I couldn't help myself from whining. I knew he didn't have time to give me an orgasm and I didn't see the point. And then I realized how orgasm-hungry I'd become and smile
d
and bent over.

Morgan lifted up my skirt and pulled down my panties in one swift motion. Before I could react, he pulled out the butt plug.

I groaned, it hurt when he was moving it out but now it was gone and there was nothing inside me. I stood up again and fixed my clothes, rubbing my ass.

"Have an aspirin," said Morgan, "You probably can't see it, but I did make your ass quite red a couple of hours ago."

He grinned and I tried my best not to smile. "Well, at least I can go down to the casino floor now."

Morgan mock-frowned at me and said, "Well, don't try anything shifty. Remember I can watch you through the cameras."

I imagined myself flashing the guards and making away with a bunch of chips. The thought made me chuckle and I watched Morgan leave.

I decided to put on some makeup and fix my hair properly before I went down to the floor.

When I was back
on the floor I felt different. Just a few days ago, I had been here, wandering around and not knowing if anything would happen between Morgan and I
. Now, I was pretending to be his submissive, and I was trying to understand what he saw in this BDSM lifestyle. He was making a pretty good case for it, but I wasn't entirely convinced - and even if he got me to like it, I was determined that I wouldn't admit that.

My ass was sore, despite the aspirin I'd had. And being the naked object of Morgan's attentions for so long had reminded me of how sexy I was. I strutted around
the busy floor
with more confidence, and I no longer looked at a pretty woman and thought how she was so much more attractive than me.

Instead, I knew I was sexy. I knew I had the power to make a man go nuts, and while I wasn't perfect, I was
hot.

I exuded something different, my movements were slower than usual, and a number of guys came up to me, trying to buy me drinks or to ask me to dinner. I laughed and hoped Morgan was watching through the cameras.

I felt light-hearted and happy, and wondered what I'd be doing later
th
at night.

Keira's Punishment: The Billionaire's Submissive

Keira's Visit: The Billionaire's Submissive 2

Keira's Past: The Billionaire's Submissive 3

The Billionaire's Contract: Proposals

The Billionaire's Contract 2: Considerations

The Billionaire's Contract 3: Aftermath

Bride By Design: Flights of Fancy (Taken By The Billionaire)

Bride By Design 2: Manchala On The Mind (Taken By The Billionaire)

Bride By Design 3: Manchala Nights (Taken By The Billionaire)

She is available on twitter and enjoys chatting with her readers; her username is
@AliciaRRoberts

She blogs at
http://aliciarroberts.wordpress.com

Her email address is [email protected]

Description:

Keira Jones is in trouble. She's accidentally approved a press release painting her boss, Connor Hastings, as an elitist snob and she knows she'll get fired. Unless she agrees to beg for forgiveness and accept her punishment - a choice that seems simple enough.

At Connor's hands, Keira discovers humiliation and pleasure. Soon, she finds herself tempted by Connor's dark ways and the glamour and excitement he offers…

Extract:

His face was inches from mine and he said softly, "That day, all I really wanted to do was take you over my lap and give you a good, hard spanking."

He leaned back and suddenly the words came rushing into my head. Images popped up unbidden - myself, lying across his lap, my ass bare, his hand lifted, coming down…

My breath quickened, but I pushed those thoughts away and looked up to meet his eyes. I didn't know what to say. Though I was wearing a demure business skirt and white button-up blouse, I suddenly felt naked, as though Connor knew exactly what I looked like undressed.

Connor's eyes were speculative, and he stood up suddenly and moved to the window. He looked out and asked, "How badly do you want to keep this job?"

I gulped. "Very badly, sir."

"Mike says I should fire you. Legally, that's my best choice"

I started to speak but he held up his hand to silence me.

"I like you," he said softly, and I breathed in deeply with pleasure and hope. "I don't want to fire you." He turned to look at me again and the light reflected off his dark mahogany hair, his formal white shirt hinting at hard muscles underneath. "I like you very much." His voice sounded speculative, and again, I felt as though my clothes were transparent. There was something so powerful in his gaze, I felt as though he could see everything.

"If you're ready to do anything to keep your job, I'll ignore my lawyer's advice and not fire you."

I felt thankfulness flood through my veins, and my eyes widened with relief.

"I'll do anything," I said confidently.

"Well then," he smiled, "Come here and beg for forgiveness."

I looked at him, surprised.

He pointed to a spot on the floor, just before his feet. "Get on your knees," he commanded.

I noticed now the bulge in the front of his pants, and he ran one hand over it, emphasizing it, making it obvious what I was about to do.

I had a few seconds to make my decision. It was an easy choice to make - I went over and kneeled before him.

"Unbutton your blouse."

His voice was harsh and commanding, and I felt the humiliation bubble up inside me. With trembling fingers, I undid the buttons slowly, staring at the floor, not daring to meet his eyes.

When they were all unbuttoned, I let the shirt hang loose, hoping I could keep it on. Connor reached down and pushed the panels apart, exposing my bra-clad breasts. I felt embarrassed, and hoped this was it, that I wouldn't have to take anything off.

But Connor gazed at me for a few seconds, and then reached down again. He pushed the cups of my bra down, and my breasts spilled out over them. The fabric pushed them up from below, making them stand up, my nipples hard and pointing out. He cupped my breasts from the side, and said, "You're already aroused. Good. I like that."