Steven Read online

  Her nerve almost faltered when she parked, but she took a deep breath and walked proudly up the stairs.

  "Good evening, Ms. Thomson, isn't it?"

  "Yes. Hello, Stan."

  "I'll let Master Steven know you're here. Take a seat."

  She perched on one of the couches in the foyer and waited a few minutes. Master Steven strode in. He was more formidable than she remembered, more magnetic than the dreams she’d had of him. He wore black leather pants and those black kick-ass boots. Avril thought his white shirt was silk. Unbuttoned halfway down, it showed off his broad chest with a sprinkling of gray hair. The stare from those gray eyes bored into her as she stood. He held out his hand, and she shook it nervously. It was like touching a live electric wire!

  "Evening, Miss Thomson."

  "Hello."

  He looked her up and down, and Avril got the impression he was stripping her in his mind. His next words kind of confirmed that thought.

  "I hope you are wearing something suitable under that dress."

  She swallowed. "Um. Yes."

  "Shoes and jacket in a locker. Come back here to me. Oh, I'll let you keep the dress on until we start."

  “Okay” came out rather choked as she took the card Stan held out to her and almost raced into the changing room. Shaking badly, she threw her shoes, jacket, and bag into the locker, and tried hard to memorize the code number, even though it was one of her own choice, before she shut it then went out to Steven.

  "Follow me."

  As he led the way into the club proper, Avril was glad of the plush carpet under her feet. She thought she would have left sweaty tracks if it had been wood. He went into the lounge area and stopped. There was a bag beside one of the couches.

  "Now, Miss Thomson, there are a few rules for tonight. The idea of these two evenings is to give you a true feeling of what it would be like. So firstly, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’. You will acknowledge my orders with a 'yes, Sir' or 'yes, Master'. First question, and please think carefully before replying. Would you prefer a private room or are you comfortable being on display?"

  "I can be in a private room?" she asked, relieved. He nodded. "Private room please, Sir."

  "Follow me."

  She didn't answer, and he stared at her. His glare was not pleasant.

  "Oops. Sorry. Yes, Sir."

  He turned on his heel, picked up the black bag, and left. Avril had to walk fast to keep up with him. He went upstairs and along a corridor, then opened the door of a darkened room. Flicking a hanging card on the door to say the room was now occupied, once inside he turned on the lights. They were dim but didn't hide any corners. There was a large bed taking up part of the room. Then she glanced around and saw a large settee. A St. Andrew’s cross against one wall, a bench, and a couple of chains hanging from the ceiling completed the room. Master Steven coughed to get her attention.

  "You've indicated you want to experience pain."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "How much?"

  "I honestly don't know. Um … Sir."

  "Sensible answer." He closed the door behind them. "Why do you think you want to experience pain?"

  Oh shit, this is private.

  "I think it excites me. Um, Sir."

  "Can you trust me to give what I think you can take?"

  "I … but—" Hell, she wanted this. Time to man up. "Yes, Sir."

  "I will push you way past your comfort zone, Miss Thomson. I can't keep calling you that. Your name?"

  "Avril, Sir."

  "Avril. Nice." He actually gave her one of those mouth-quirk type smiles. "Strip off."

  "Pardon?"

  Patiently, he said, "Remove the dress, Avril."

  "Oh. Yes, Sir."

  Feeling self-conscious she unzipped the dress with shaking hands. Now he was going to get an eyeful. Could she do this?

  "I'm waiting, and you don't want to keep a Master waiting."

  She closed her eyes, took a huge breath in, and swallowed. Slipping the dress from her shoulders she let it drop to the floor and stepped from it. Covering herself with her hands, she dropped her gaze to take in anything but Steven.

  "Hands by your sides and look at me!"

  His voice brooked no refusal. Avril quickly obeyed him and almost gasped when she saw the obvious admiration in his eyes. That was a surprise.

  "Very nice."

  He walked around her, then stood in front, very close, well into her personal space, and she felt intimidated but thrilled.

  "You do realize I am going to possibly touch you intimately tonight as well as hit you."

  "You are?"

  "That's 'you are, Sir'."

  "Sorry, Sir."

  "Yes. I am, but only if you give me your permission. Remember SSC."

  He reached out and with only one finger, ran it from her lips down to just above her ample cleavage. She shivered at his caress. She never thought a simple touch could excite, but his did.

  "If at any time you want to stop your safeword for tonight is 'red'. Say that and everything stops immediately. But, Avril, think cautiously before you use it. You will be pushed tonight, but I will always be in control. If at any time you are unsure you may use the word 'yellow'. Understand?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "The word yellow will mean you are uncomfortable and want to discuss things before continuing. If you still feel strongly we will stop that activity. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir. Red to stop, yellow to discuss."

  "Why are you here?"

  The question put her off guard. She thought she’d already told him.

  Could she tell the truth? "I want to see if I need pain."

  "There's more to it than only that. Tell me, and don't even think of lying."

  Oh bugger.

  "I'm not very good at sex, Sir."

  "Explain."

  Oh fuck, what the hell does he want—all the gory details?

  "I don't get excited."

  "Why do you think being hit or having pain will arouse you?"

  She knew she blushed. Her blood seemed to surge to her face. This wasn't part of the lesson surely.

  "Answer now!"

  "I did, Sir. Twice."

  "You mean you had sex twice while someone hit you and it excited you?"

  Fuck, this guy wants to know everything!

  "Yes, Sir," she managed to whisper through gritted teeth.

  "And other times?"

  "Nothing."

  "Pardon?"

  "Nothing, Sir."

  Suddenly she was angry, all these personal questions. How could she tell those things to someone she didn't even know? A stranger dominating her? "I'm frigid, okay! Every man I've slept with told me the same thing. So there!"

  "Oh. So, the little kitten has claws. Pull that anger in, Avril."

  She stood there, breasts heaving as she tried to calm down. Why on earth had she lost her temper? She never did. Drawing in a huge gasp, she exhaled loudly.

  "Better?"

  "Sorry. Yes, Sir."

  "I understand these questions seem private, but if I'm to help I have to know. I need to know if you truly believe you need pain rather than if it only seems like an interesting experiment."

  "I think I get the reasoning, Sir."

  "I understand you’re nervous, but I don't appreciate unwarranted anger. I think you need to learn who is in charge."

  He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

  "Come here."

  Avril stepped hesitantly to him. He took one of her hands and before she knew what was happening, she was over his knee.

  "You will accept ten hits with my hand for losing your temper."

  She stiffened. What the fuck?

  "You will count each one."

  She didn't answer.

  "Fifteen."

  "What?"

  "Twenty."

  "Oh fuck. Um … yes, Sir."

  "I'll ignore the expletive—this time."

  Before Avril had
a chance to reply he struck—hard! She'd expected a sort of gentle pat, but this seemed full-force. She let out a scream.

  "Count."

  "One, one, Sir," she stammered.

  Another landed on the other cheek just as hard, and she felt tears come to her eyes as she whimpered, “Two, Sir.”

  Avril lifted her hands and tried to cover her bottom, but Steven pushed her hands aside as he rubbed her cheeks then landed another two smacks, one for each one. Somehow, she managed to count through her tears as she tensed her whole body. Once more she tried to hold her hands across her cheeks to stop him, but he snarled at her and she dropped them quickly.

  Perhaps this wasn't for her. Maybe she should simply call a halt and forget all about pain and being hit. He landed four more, and as she was about to call “red” something weird happened. She began breathing faster, her pulse raced, and she felt her nipples harden. She felt her tension lessen as the next two landed, and even she could hear the difference in her voice.

  It sounded breathless, huskier. "Ten, Sir."

  His fingers caressed her cheeks, and she felt herself lift her hips to meet his hand as it slammed down to hit her again. Then she felt him slide her panties down before he hit her again. She began panting her replies. When he reached nineteen she was practically moaning. He gave her the twentieth.

  "Twenty, Sir." Somehow, she managed to squeak it out. He stopped, and she wanted more. There was no denying she was aroused, needy, and wet.

  "No, Sir."

  "No what?"

  "More, Sir, don't stop," she managed to groan out.

  She felt his hand on her cheek. It rubbed then ran between her cheeks. She raised her bottom.

  Touch me, oh for God’s sake, touch me. I need to come. I need your hands on me.

  "That's enough for the moment."

  Avril felt devastated. She wanted more; she wanted relief from the ache inside her. She needed to climax. Never in her life had she felt the way she now did. Her excitement was so strong, her arousal actually was unbearable. She wanted to grab his hands and shove them between her legs. Avril couldn't hold back her moans. She wanted to beg him.

  "Tell me, Avril. Ask me."

  His whispered voice shot through to her core.

  "Touch me, Sir, oh please, I beg of you."

  "Do you give me permission to make you come, Kitten?"

  "Oh please, Sir."

  Her bottom stung like she'd been stabbed with a thousand knives, but she was extremely excited. Avril wanted him to hit her again. She wanted him to make her climax. Her pussy throbbed with arousal.

  “Avril, are you certain you want this? Do you understand what you are giving me permission to do?”

  Frantic with need, she almost screamed, “Yes. Yes, Sir. I want you to make me come. I want you to hit me more. Yes, I give permission. Please!”

  He grunted, and she felt that hand make lazy circles before he struck her ass again several times. His hand grazed her flesh, and then it dipped between her legs. He pushed her panties all the way down until they dangled off one foot. Then she felt his fingers touch her wet slit. They rubbed between her ass cheeks, and he pinched her clit almost brutally. She screamed in delight.

  A finger slid between her wet pussy lips while his thumb pressed hard on her clit. His other hand found her breast, slid between the lacy fabric and skin and began pulling at her nipple. A second finger slid into her pussy as he pinched her nipple so hard that she shrieked with the hurt, but at the same time her pussy quivered.

  "That's it, little Kitten, come for me now."

  The fingers tightened on her nipple and twisted it painfully. Avril couldn't hold back. She screeched as her body shook, her orgasm grabbing onto his fingers. Relentlessly, he pumped his fingers in and out, all the while pulling and twisting on that tender nipple until she grew hoarse from her shouts of joy.

  She lay limp, panting, trying desperately to get air into her lungs as he sat her up and onto his lap, pulling her head onto his chest. Avril had no strength to do anything but cling to him. When she finally gave a loud sigh as her breathing returned to normal, she felt him kiss the top of her head.

  "Well, little Kitten, I think we can safely say you are not frigid."

  His voice sounded as if it were filled with laughter, and she raised her head to look at him. Those gray eyes crinkled as he gave her a hundred-watt smile. It flipped her heart.

  "Oh."

  "I'll let you recover fully, and then we'll explore a little deeper."

  Suddenly Avril realized her panties were now on the floor. She squirmed and tried to pick them up.

  "Leave them. You don't need them."

  "I … I don't?"

  He cocked his head and frowned.

  "I don't, Sir?"

  "Better. No, you don't. If you behave, I may let you come a few more times."

  Avril was sure her eyes were like saucers as she stared at him, "A few more, Sir?"

  "Of course. As long as you give me permission to continue. That was only the beginning, and we have all night and tomorrow night to educate you. Now stand."

  Oh fuck!

  Chapter Five

  So, Miss Prim and Proper was far from that.

  She had this confident yet, at the same time, terrified façade, but then she'd lost her temper. He saw beneath that mask she wore she was really a wildcat. And that body?

  It was all he hoped for and more. Those breasts—huge, full with large, dark areolae and nipples big enough to clamp and torture. He was pleased she had ample padding on her body. A woman like that wouldn't buckle under a man’s weight, and she'd be very comfortable to hold and caress.

  So she believed she was frigid? Interesting.

  He’d find out more about the men she'd slept with later. First, she needed to know from the outset who was in charge and the consequences of her anger. It would also give him an insight into whether her desire for pain was genuinely attached to arousal. Ten slaps would certainly give him an idea.

  He'd grinned when she made him increase it to twenty. Plenty to tell. She obviously expected something gentle to start with, a little love pat, but Steven had no intention of being tender. She wanted to know about sex and pain, then let her. Although he did hold back a little for the first ten, it was obvious she was getting excited. The last ones were full-force. His hand stung a little from how hard he'd hit her, and in the end, she'd begged for more. Merely listening to her screams gave Steven such a hard-on.

  It had been too long since he'd been able to give a woman the pain he longed to inflict. All those years of trying to make himself believe he didn't need a woman in his life suddenly shattered as the woman on his lap shouted and shrieked each time his hand bit her tender flesh. All at once the years of living on the fringe, trying to protect his heart, seemed meaningless.

  Now he wondered.

  Steven tried to push down his own excitement, the rapid beat of his heart, the sudden tingle as his hands touched her bare flesh. Was this the woman he'd been made for? Could he risk his heart? Could he take a chance on finding happiness?

  Now she was standing before him, her face flushed from her first orgasm with him, wearing nothing but a bra. How far could he push her? How far dared he take things? She was stunning standing there, her breasts heaving, and the little strip of pubic hair. He could smell her arousal, sweet and heavy.

  "Now, Kitten, we can leave things like this or you can let me show you more of what pain can do. You can get dressed and walk out that door or you can stay and learn."

  There was fear written in her face, but she licked her lips, her eyes still dilated. He had his answer even if she hadn't voiced it. He waited, content to stay silent, to give her the chance to think things through. Finally, after about three minutes, she drew a huge breath.

  "I'll stay, Sir."

  "Wonderful, Kitten. I'm very proud of how brave you are."

  He could almost see her purring at his words. She was a natural sub as well as a pain slut—she simp
ly didn't know it yet. The next thing was to push her and see if she really was a sexual masochist as he suspected. Not many women had got that excited the first time they'd been struck by hard him. In fact, he could only recall two.

  "Do you remember the two words I gave you?"

  "Red and yellow, Sir."

  "I will be watching you very carefully. If I think you've had too much, regardless of what you think, I will stop. Understand?"

  She replied, "Yes, Sir." He could see the fear emanating from her.

  "I'm going to push you, Avril, push you hard, but if you really want to explore the whole pain thing then this is the only way."

  "Oh."

  "Understand I won't hold back. There’s still time to change your mind."

  "No. No, I want to know." She shook her head. "No, that's wrong. I need to know, Sir."

  He smiled warmly at her. Not many women would be brave enough to hand over their safety to a stranger who intended to flog them, and especially one who they knew was a sadist.

  “Then once more I need you to give me permission. I need to know you have made this decision without coercion, that this is what you want.”

  “Yes, Sir. You have my permission to hit me. Um … to make me er … come. I completely understand what I am saying and asking for. I understand the consequences, Sir.”

  “Excellent.”

  Satisfied that she understood everything that was about to happen and truly wanted it, he pointed across the room. "Go to the spiderweb and stand with your back to it."

  Hesitantly, she walked to the web, her body stiff as he followed her. He ignored the fact she hadn't acknowledged his request. The air filled with sexual tension, and Steven could almost taste her fear as well as her excitement. He admired the view from behind. Her ass glowed red.

  "I will give you a choice. Normally I would make any decision, but as you have no knowledge of BDSM I will allow you to decide this time. You can either be restrained hands and feet or you may hold onto the ropes, your arms outstretched and your legs apart. But understand, Avril, if you let go, I will stop. Your answer?"