Harlem Dae [A Bit of Strange 03] Pleasure and Danger [TEB Lust Bites] (pdf)

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A Totally Bound Publication

Pleasure and Danger
ISBN # 978-1-78430-018-0
©Copyright Harlem Dae 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright April 2014
Edited by Sarah Smeaton
Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound
Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.

Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road,
Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Warning:


This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This
story has a heat rating of Totally Melting and a Sexometer of 2.

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A Bit of Strange

PLEASURE AND DANGER

Harlem Dae

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Book three in the A Bit of Strange serial

Just when the sex between Gabriel and Isabella is so dark she’s blinded by lust, her stranger takes
things to a brand new level of edgy ecstasy.

Being dominated suits Isabella the way a pair of well-worn jeans fit, though she’s struggling
to admit that she adores it just the way Gabriel is doling it out. She asks one more thing,
realizing it’s going to allow him free reign on her body. She’ll let him use and abuse her in a
filthy alley that matches her dirty desires, knowing it will bring them closer than ever.

But will it? Gabriel has upped his game. He wants Isabella. He wants to be with her, inside
not just her body but also her mind. Take her to places that she has never been before and
will ensure that she becomes his for all of time.

Pushing someone to their limit is a risky business, though when hearts are involved and
souls connect, it makes it a whole lot more fun and brings strangers together in a way that
ties them for all eternity.

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Dedication

To Hannah, who embraces madness!


Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Millets: Blacks Outdoor Retail Ltd.
Coke: The Coca-Cola Company
Burger King: Burger King

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Chapter One

I woke with a pleasant and lazy sense of disorientation. In the moment between

dreaming and reality, darkness and light had stolen my thoughts and mixed up my sense of

space. But only for a few seconds, because then Gabriel’s body heat reminded me where I

was.

I became aware of his flaccid cock against my arse cheeks, his gently rising and falling

chest pressing into my back, and his stubbled chin resting by my neck. It all proved that I

was exactly where I wanted to be.

In my new lover’s bed.

In my Master’s arms.

I opened my eyes wide and pulled in a breath as I stared at a pair of black and silver

striped curtains covering the weakly lit window. My Master? God, where had that come

from? Sure, I called him Sir when in a scene, because that’s what he liked, it got him off. But

really, was that how my subconscious viewed him now?

He shifted slightly and tightened his grip on me as if to keep me secure within the curl

of his body.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and rubbed my palms over his hairy right forearm,

which was locked around me, over my waist.

“Are you okay?” he murmured sleepily.

“Yes. I think so.”

“You just think so?”

He kissed my neck, and his sharp facial hair scratching my skin sent a shudder of desire

through me.

He chuckled. “My God, you even wake up wanting it, don’t you?”

I turned within his arms and faced him. “I want you.” And I did. I was buzzing for him.

Whatever he could give me I wanted it. And the possibility that it could lead to more than

sex, to an ‘us’, just made me greedier still.

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He swept his palm over my hip, let it drift down my thigh to my knee then back up

again to finally cup my face.

His touch brought me to life. The sensations of the night before came flooding back—

the exquisite pain, the seemingly endless, earth-moving orgasm, the thrust of his cock in my

pussy.

“You look beautiful in the morning,” he said softly. “Being in my bed clearly suits you.”

“Being with you suits me.” I smiled then kissed him gently on his lips.

He moaned a little and pulled me closer. The moan turned into a groan as his now-

hardening cock pressed between us.

“It suits me, too,” he said, sliding his hand from my face to touch my breasts. “Are you

sore?”

I gasped when he tweaked my swollen, tender nipple. “Yes, deliciously so.”

“And this one?” He switched his attention to my other tit.

“Ow. Oh, yes.” I looped my leg over his, shifted so that my pussy was open for his

cock.

“What are you doing, Isabella?” he asked, stilling his movements.

“I…” I hesitated. He’d had that tone in his voice just then. The one that told me to be

wary. That he was testing me, pushing me, wondering if I was going to step beyond my

boundaries as his sub.

I’m not his fucking sub.

“Well?” he asked, staring deep in my eyes with his dark ones. “What are you doing?”

“I…I want us to fuck.”

“And you think you’ll get it when you ask like that?”

Oh, God.

His dick was thick and solid, rubbing against my pubic hair. He wanted it too. I’d bet

my last pound he was battling every instinct in his testosterone-soaked body right now.

What he really wanted to do was just ram into me, thrust and grind and grab a quick

morning orgasm to start the day off with a bang.

“Ask properly, Isabella. Show some respect for the man who cares for you, satisfies you

and will make all of your dirty dreams come true.” He shifted the covers a little to reveal my

chest. “Ask me properly.”

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“Please, Sir, can we fuck now? I want you.”

He tutted. “Really? Is that the best you can do?”

I frowned. “Tell me? What are the rules? How am I supposed to ask?”

“You can cut the tone of exasperation for a start.”

“Hard not to when just inches from my pussy I have a cock that’s ready and able, but a

man who won’t allow it to be willing.”

He shifted away from me, forcing me to drop my leg. “There, problem solved. Now

try.”

I pressed my fingers to my clit, squashing the heel of my hand over my mound. I was

hot and wet, in need of his attention.

“Please, Sir, I’ve woken up needing you, wanting you… Please.” I knew that was better,

I’d heard the plea in my voice, it was real, I hadn’t had to fake it.

He gave me a lopsided smile and propped his head on his hand, his elbow sinking deep

into the dark pillow. He had an adorable sleep crease on his cheek and his hair was cutely

tousled. “Mmm, you’re getting there. Now, tell me why you think you deserve my dick.”

“Because…because I did everything you told me, last night, in the cage. I was a

good…” My words trailed off. He wanted me to say I was his sub, but I was no one’s sub.

Well, I had been his, in the scene last night. It was what he’d wanted, I’d tried the hat on and

it had fitted fine. Perhaps I should just say it again right now. To get what I needed, a means to

an end as it were.

“You were a good what?” he asked in a patient voice, as if he had all the time in the

world to steal the words from me.

I didn’t have oodles of time. I wanted him in me. Now. “I was a good sub, last night. I

did what you wanted.”

“Sir.”

“I did what you wanted, Sir.”

“You did very well, but I also think you got what you wanted too.”

“Yes, oh yes, but…”

“But?” His eyebrows shot up.

“But dawn has broken and today is a new day. A new beginning for us to explore our

fantasies, our darkest desires, and, Sir, I can’t wait to get on with them.”

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He smiled at that. A proper grin that lit his face. “Me neither. In fact, we will start right

now, as you suggested.”

Thank the dear Lord above. “Yes, okay.” I sidled up to him and started to fling my leg

over his body again with every intention of sinking him deep and riding to an intense climax.

“Oh, no you don’t, you badly behaved little sub. I call the shots. I’m in charge. Not

you.” He pushed me off then threw the duvet to the base of the bed.

Despite my chagrin, I couldn’t help but admire the way his cock poled straight upright.

It was a wonderful dusky color and the morning shadows caressed it the way I wanted my

pussy to.

He reached for me, slid his fingers over my head then gathered my hair into a tight

ponytail in both of his hands.

I hissed in discomfort when he pulled and pulled, my scalp screaming from the torment

of it.

“Do you know what I want?” he asked.

“To tease me?” I paused. “Sir.”

His eyes were glinting now. He was clearly getting aroused by my cheek, my resistance

to conform.

“No, not tease, that’s not my intention, although it may be on other occasions. But this

morning I need to call work and make my excuses for the day. I also need to make us a

decent breakfast—we’re going to need our energy for what we have planned.”

“Yes, Sir.” Thank goodness he was still up for creating my dirty alley fantasy.

“So what I need right this minute”—he angled my face down so I was staring at his

erection—“is for you to suck my dick. Make me come good and fast, sub, so I can get on with

organizing our day.”

I licked my lips. It wasn’t what I’d intended exactly, but the thought of tasting him and

sliding his thick cock into my mouth certainly appealed. And if he kept a tight, sharp hold on

my hair as he did it, then all the better.

“What are you waiting for?” he snapped.

“Nothing, I…”

“Suck my cock, Isabella, and suck it like you love it.”

“I do love it, Sir.”

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“What do you love? My cock or sucking cock?”

“Both, your cock and sucking, so I would imagine, Sir, that sucking your cock will be

perfect, and if I may, I’d like to make myself come, too, while you’re deep in my throat.”

“Good girl, you’re learning, and yes, since you asked so nicely you may masturbate

while you give me head, but as long as it doesn’t disturb your rhythm.”

“It won’t, Sir, I promise.”

He frowned.

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve just given you permission to have an orgasm, there is something you must say.”

Was there? Shit. I couldn’t think. I racked my brains and it came to me. “Thank you, Sir,

thank you for allowing me to come.”

He nodded, seriously, then pushed me down the bed, spreading his legs as I went so I

could kneel between them. He kept hold of my hair, effectively using that to position me.

Excitement swirled up inside me, from my clit to the top of my head. My mouth was

watering. My pussy hammering.

“Open up,” he said, tensing his abs as he stared down at me. “Open up and take me.”

I did as he’d asked, stretching my jaw wide and not removing my attention from his

eyes.

He pushed my head closer to his cock, slowly, agonizingly slowly. I stuck out my

tongue, waiting to welcome his glans.

“Ah, yeah, dirty slut,” he groaned, touching the tip of his cock to my bottom lip. “Give

me a lick, get your first taste of your Master.”

I didn’t need asking twice. His slit was hot and wet, glossy with a first dot of pre-cum

that I scooped up to let the salty, thick taste of him spread over my tongue.

“Open,” he said again, sharper this time. “Now.”

I did as he’d instructed then shot my hand to my pussy.

Fiddling to set up a good pressure on my clit, I was aware of him locking his knees

around my ribs, holding me tight within the cradle of his legs.

“You’re going to take me all, okay, and I’m going to fuck your mouth the way I’d fuck

my own hand. I don’t wank like a fairy, you know. I like it hard, firm, rough, so if you hate it

you must slap my stomach three times, okay?”

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I nodded but I knew I wouldn’t have to slap him. The idea of Gabriel fucking my mouth

with the same furious determination he fisted himself to completion was a complete turn on.

I knew I could cope with it. I could handle whatever he gave me.

“Deep breath,” he said, his abs like a row of cobbles now. He was so tense holding

himself at such a strained, half abdominal-crunch angle.

I pulled in air through my wide mouth and, as my lungs expanded, he pushed me onto

his cock. The rigid shaft smoothed over my tongue, the soft glans hit the back of my throat

and his pubic hair touched my chin.

Hurriedly I shunted three fingers into my pussy and caught my clit with the hard swell

of my palm. He tasted divine and his cock was the perfect shape for my mouth.

He pulled my head back, still using the firm grip he had on my bunched-up hair.

Mouth empty, I stared up at him. His eyes were wide, as if he were taking in everything he

was seeing and storing it in some special place.

I was certainly feeling a nice heat building in my special place.

“Again,” he said, nostrils flaring. “Fucking hell, again.”

He shifted me onto his cock once more, deeper this time, and I had to battle with my

gag reflex, and shut my eyes tight to cope.

“Ah, yeah, you love it, submitting to me, don’t you?”

I couldn’t answer. But yes, I did love it—but that didn’t make me his sub.

“Get yourself off, quickly, we have jobs to do,” he said, rushing to pull me almost off

his cock then sliding me back down it.

I groaned in pleasure, climbing the first steps to an orgasm. It wouldn’t take me long.

Being held so firmly by Gabriel, and having given up my control over what we did and how

we did it, was making me light. I felt as though I had not a care in the world and satisfaction,

his and mine, was all that mattered.

“Oh, yeah, ripple your tongue around my cock. Like that, yeah, like that… Jesus, sub,

you’ve got the knack. Damn, you’re so good at that…and…and you’re taking it, doing

it…oh, fuck…”

It thrilled me to please him. I increased the tension of my tongue and accepted each

thrust of his cock into my mouth. I timed the pounding of my pussy to his pistoning

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movements of my head. I was getting dizzy, high on life, high on belonging to Gabriel so

utterly.

“Fuck it, I’m coming, sub. Swallow me, swallow me and come too…ah, yeah…I order

you to come, now.”

The pressure was explosive in my pelvis, and as the first slew of cum hit the back of my

throat I allowed ecstasy to burst free.

I hit a wild new level of sensation, black and white, cold and hot. I knew I didn’t have

enough air in my body but that seemed to just make it all the more intense. My scalp was on

fire with pain, my mouth owned and possessed, and my pussy throbbing through a blissful

release.

Suddenly Gabriel pulled out.

I dragged in oxygen and watched as his slit stretched and another two eruptions of cum

were released.

Quickly, with my free hand I clutched his cock and spread the cum over it like warm

lube.

“Good girl,” he panted, “good girl. That’s it, touch me.”

The ringing in my ears quieted and I ceased the assault on my pussy, having hammered

through my orgasm. It was fading now, becoming a memory.

Suddenly he released my hair, hooked beneath my arms and slid me up his body.

He cupped my arse and kissed me hungrily.

I fed him his own flavor, tangling my tongue with his, and pushed my hands through

his hair.

“Ah yeah, you taste of me,” he said breathlessly. “Exactly how a sub should taste, of

their Master.”

I was going to argue, reply with a snipe about not being a sub. But actually, if being

Gabriel’s sub made me feel as wonderful as I did at this moment, then why the fuck was I

arguing?

He twitched his eyebrows, as though surprised there’d been no comeback. “You did

well,” he said then pulled in a deep breath. “You pleased me and you looked seriously hot

down there, between my legs, frigging yourself off and your mouth all wide and eager for

me.”

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“You looked hot, too, all serious about satisfaction and…”

Should I say it?

“And what?” He frowned.

“Dominant.” It was the best word to describe the sullen, focused look on his face as

he’d stared at me taking his cock into his mouth. It was the expression of a man who was

taking exactly what he wanted, what he was due, what was his.

Me.

“Ah, you’re seeing it.” He licked his bottom lip.

“Seeing what?”

“Seeing what’s inside you.”

“And what’s that?”

He flipped me over, trapping me between his body and the bed. My breath huffed out

as he pressed his chest down on mine.

“That you like to be controlled. Not just when it comes to satisfying the pain-whore in

you, but also when it comes to satisfying the sexual woman in you. You like not having to

think about anything and just feel.”

I pondered on his words for a moment. One thing was certain, I couldn’t deny the thrill

I’d gotten from letting Gabriel fuck my mouth exactly how he’d wanted to. “Perhaps I do, for

some things.”

“I think you do for more than you know, and what’s more, soon you’ll see the truth.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, because dirty sluts that like to be screwed in back alleys get exactly what their

Master wants from them.”

He could have anything I had to give as far as I was concerned. He was rapidly

wheedling his way into my soul.

I hooked my legs over the backs of his and kissed him again.

In a swift movement that yanked my hip, he pulled my left leg up high, almost to his

shoulder, then swept his hand over my buttock to my pussy.

“Oh… Sir!” I gasped onto his lips when he slid his fingers through my slit. Was I going

to get more? I wouldn’t complain. I could always handle more.

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“And,” he said. “Since I’ve fucked your pussy and your mouth, maybe there is

something else I want. And if you are really mine, you will give it to me.” He slipped his

finger lower, until it rested over my anus. “And it will hurt, sub, but of course, in the best

possible way.”

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Chapter Two

I didn’t get more. Gabriel insisted we’d had enough, and if we were going to go for it in

the alley, we’d be better off abstaining until then. Although I could have done with staying in

his bed all day, exploring his body as he explored mine, I also saw the sense in what he’d

said. Anticipation would be high, growing taller by the minute as our alley encounter drew

closer. That would mean I’d get an earth-shattering orgasm as opposed to a pleasing mind-

blower.

Showered and dressed in my new white knickers and yesterday’s tarty clothes—sans

makeup, hair in disarray—I stood in the town center beside the clock that resembled a

grandfather, albeit made of stone instead of shiny mahogany. The hands pointed to eleven

and two, and our appointed meeting was destined for eleven-thirty. I had to find something

to do to make the minutes tick by faster.

I drew my jacket fronts together then zipped them up, the wind rather ripe this

morning and intent on scaring any lingering cobwebs away. I felt refreshed, invigorated and

more than ready to play out my third fantasy. It was like all my birthdays and Christmases

had come along at once, each present more spectacular than the last. At this rate I’d have to

think up some new scenarios, and tonight would be the perfect opportunity before I drifted

off to sleep.

But would I be in my bed or his?

Receiving more than one or two glances from passers-by, all staring at me as though I

were the filthiest woman on the planet, I smiled back at them with the saucy knowledge that

they had no clue what I was about to experience. And what I’d just been thinking about.

There they were, struggling along with their heavy shopping bags, wearing clean,

pressed clothes and proper shoes, and probably smelling of roses. The term ‘Their shit don’t

stink!’ came to mind, and I knew that many of these people would turn their noses up at my

thoughts. No doubt they’d proclaim me to be a dirty, nasty little whore who lived for

nothing but sex when there were other, more important things going on in the world. I

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wasn’t unaware of what was on the news, just that I preferred to spend my life filling it with

goodness—the kind of goodness that had me coming hard and fast.

Each to their own.

What a stark contrast we made while I stood there in my slutty outfit—Gabriel had

been insistent about that—knowing within half an hour I’d be being getting fucked against a

grimy, mildew-ridden wall. What did these women have to look forward to? I hoped for

their sakes it was more than going home to put their shopping away then doing the

housework. Had any of them tapped into their desires or had they hidden them away? Did

they reserve sex for high days and holidays?

I couldn’t imagine a life like that, not now that I’d found Gabriel.

I moved away from the clock and headed toward the jewelry shop. I wasn’t going there

to browse the rings—I didn’t want marriage or anything like that—not yet anyway—but I’d

grown fond of those bracelets that were all the rage, the ones with tiny trinkets hanging off

them. Only I didn’t think the kind of trinkets I’d want were readily available. A whip, a

flogger, Gabriel’s mean little stick, a mini cage and a depiction of a filthy alley. And if they

were, wouldn’t that just set up a whole new level of conversation at work beside the

coffeemaker in the kitchen?

“What on earth is that, Isabella?” That would be Patty, the elderly receptionist.

“What?” That would be me, feigning nonchalance while knowing exactly what had

been referred to—and with horror, I’d bet.

“Is that a…a whip on there?” And that would be Bernice, the middle-aged accountant

who was shocked by a door closing more loudly than usual, let alone seeing a silver whip

dangling from a bracelet. She’d have her hand slapped to her chest, her mouth hanging open

and a violent red flush to her cheeks.

I smiled at the idea of freaking my work colleagues out then explaining that I liked a

goodly dose of pain mixed in with my pleasure. That I’d met a man who seemed to want

everything I did and knew how to administer it, how to get me off. How often did people

meet their absolute perfect partner? How many people were truly lucky to find everything

they’d dreamed of? How many people hadn’t found it?

At the jewelry shop window, I stared at rings and watches that didn’t particularly

attract. My attention was drawn to the necklaces, except they weren’t quite what I’d wear

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either. The chains were too dainty, with heart pendants or keys—although the latter would

be significant for me. Like I held the key to what I wanted, no one else.

That brought me up short. Wasn’t that way of thinking something a sub would

entertain? Subs were the real ones in control, or so I’d heard. And where had I heard that? I

must have read it somewhere—and why would I have been reading something like that if I

wasn’t what Gabriel had said I was?

A sub deep inside.

I frowned, not wanting to go down that road, yet at the same time it beckoned, as

though I’d been traveling through the desert all this time and at last there was an oasis at the

end of a long road, in the form of Gabriel. He’d slake my thirst and keep me as wet as I

wanted to be. Or shaded from others under cooling—or stinging—palms, keeping me safe

and feeling wanted, attending to my every need.

That’s what he’d said he was prepared to give, wasn’t it?

The only thing left was for me to either accept what he’d offered or reject it. Already I

couldn’t imagine not having his hands on me, not hearing his commands, not having him

giving me everything I’d ever wished for. I’d become addicted to him long before the

moment he’d swept my hair from my face at the train station. Had it been just three days?

Really? Had I been fucked in ways I’d never imagined I would be, all in such a short space of

time?

I wouldn’t be rejecting his offer, and if it meant learning how to be a sub, I’d do it. Just

to be with him—and, I lightly acknowledged, because it was deep inside me.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I’d need to learn so much, but this morning was a lesson I’d caught on to very quickly.

Lose the belligerence. Express my needs in a way that showed I was grateful, not expectant.

I could do that.

“Those necklaces,” Gabriel said behind me. “They’re not what I had in mind for you.”

My stomach churned with excitement. Oh, God. Was it eleven-thirty already? I shifted

my gaze to one of the watches behind the glass—all of them were set to the correct time.

Eleven-twenty. Was he early because he couldn’t wait?

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, breathless, my heart clattering. I didn’t turn to

look at him, keeping my sights on the watches instead. If I did turn, if I stared at him, I’d

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want to get down that alley as quickly as possible. No, I had to let him lead, let him show me

what him, being a true Master was like—what me, being a sub could be like if I learnt all the

rules.

“Something like that one, Isabella.”

His hand came over my shoulder, and he pointed to a diamond choker. Ah, I knew

exactly what that piece of jewelry signified, but for him to have highlighted that one, one that

was so close to being a collar…

Oh, God, he’s serious about this. About me.

I swallowed. “That’s…that’s very pretty.” My hands were shaking.

“It is. It also hides the true purpose,” he said. “Although we shouldn’t be ashamed to

wear our collars, it’s sometimes easier, what with people not understanding what we do and

why we like it, to disguise a few things. Take that choker, for instance.”

I riveted my attention to it, imagined it around my neck. It was chunky, so far along the

scale from the other, more delicate necklaces, and very much the kind of thing I would have

chosen for myself.

“To others it just looks like a choker, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But it means so much more. Do you know anything about the lifestyle, my Isabella?”

My Isabella…

“Enough to know that wearing one of those means you belong to a Master.”

“Yes.” He paused, then, “And would you want to belong to a Master?”

“Only you,” I blurted and blushed, feeling I’d shown him exactly what he’d said I was.

And free, so bloody free that I’d said it out loud and had acknowledged it properly to myself.

That I was sub material. How come I’d denied it for so long? Had I just been waiting for the

right partner to arrive, was that it?

“That’s nice to hear,” he said. “Perhaps I might buy it for you at some point. But it’s

early days yet, and you have many things to consider, many rules you need to know about,

many scenes you need to participate in to know whether the lifestyle really is for you.”

“But if you’re willing to teach me…”

“Oh, I am. Fuck, yes, I am.”

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I felt his presence leave. I caught sight of his reflection in the window and watched him

make his way toward Millets, just as we’d agreed. He leaned against the shop door jamb, one

leg straight, the other bent at the knee, the toe of his shoe kissing the pavers. He’d worn a

suit, as I’d requested, and the red tie.

That tie. I want it around my wrists, so tight that it burns.

I took a moment to consider what he’d said. He’d been deadly serious, and I had to take

some time over the next few days to think about the enormous step I knew I would be

taking—one I wanted to take more than anything. It meant a hell of a lot of change, but I had

it in me to soak it all up—to enjoy it all, every bit of it—and become who I really was.

Gabriel lifted his hand to his mouth and formed a fist, as though he was coughing,

chivvying me along. I turned and purposely didn’t look at him while strolling across to

Millets, pretending something in the window held my full attention. Once there, I stopped

within a few feet of him and gazed at the goods on display. Camping gear mainly—a rolled-

up sleeping bag complete with holdall, a pop-up tent, a range of brightly colored drinking

flasks and, rather oddly I thought, a black T-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it that didn’t

seem to gel with the other things the store sold.

“A smiley face means a happy person,” Gabriel said, coming to stand a person’s width

beside me.

I reminded myself he was supposed to be a stranger, that I didn’t know him from

Adam, and considered how I would have reacted if that were true. I stiffened my shoulders

and refrained from looking at him.

“Are you a happy person?” he asked.

At this point, had a man asked me that out of the blue, I’d have deemed him off his

rocker and would have made a hasty retreat. However, I decided to play the unhappy person

card to see what he’d say.

“No. I’m very sad. I’m all alone in this world with no one to take care of me.” I almost

laughed at how B-movie I sounded, how 1900s. I turned my head so I was looking up at him

and batted my eyelashes for good measure.

His mouth twitched and his eyes seemed to sparkle. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He looked me up and down, as though appraising meat in a butcher shop.

I loved that look.

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He cleared his throat. “I’d have presumed a woman like yourself would be very happy,

what with all the cock you must get.”

I widened my eyes in shock then remembered how I was dressed. “What do you

mean?”

“Well, a woman of the night—or the day, as it were—should be happy considering she

rakes in cash from servicing men. That is what you do, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and

stared at me, daring me to answer otherwise.

“Yes, I’m a slut. A take-money-for-sex slut. What about it?” I cocked my hip, really

getting into role, evicting that B-movie girl-next-door and moving in the sassy harlot. “Do

you want what’s on offer? Do you like what you see?”

“I do,” he said, squeezing closer so he stood an inch or so from me. “But I’m willing to

bet I’ll like what I can’t see more.” He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips down my

jacket zip. “Like your tits. I think they’d be just what I want to touch.”

I was getting wet now, his words, the change in mood turning this meeting into the

very thing I’d wanted it to be. Dirty. Brazen. Rude.

He lowered his hand farther, hovering his fingers over my pelvis. “And your cunt—I’d

like to see that. To touch it, slide my fingers inside it, feel how wet you are. And you are wet,

aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to do those things to you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have the perfect place for someone like you.”

A shiver of delight went through me. “And where would that be?”

“Somewhere that fits in with what and who you are.” He appraised me some more,

lowering his hand to his side and licking his lips. “Rubbish.”

“Rubbish?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Yes, and where I’d take you there’ll be plenty of it.”

“So take me there,” I said, lifting my chin. “Take me there and let me fit in with the

surroundings. Make me feel right at home.”

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Chapter Three

“Down here,” he said, pushing me into the mouth of the narrow alley. “Go to the end,

and be quick about it.”

I wasn’t quick. I wanted to stand there and look down it, to take in every aspect of it so

that when he was fucking me and I had my eyes closed, I could recall every decrepit inch of

it. I stopped abruptly and he bumped into the back of me.

“What are you waiting for, slut?”

I ignored him. There seemed to be more rubbish on the ground compared to the last

time I’d glanced down here. Had he brought some extra? Strewn it on the floor knowing I

wanted it as dirty as it could be? Yes, there were the Burger King wrappers and Coke cans I’d

mentioned when describing this fantasy to him, and the crumpled newspaper pages that had

once been flat and unwrinkled, possibly spread on someone’s breakfast table while they’d

read it and munched on their bacon and eggs.

I wanted Gabriel to munch on me, to stick that long tongue of his inside my folds and

find my clit, circle around it while the knees of his suit trousers got dirty, damp from the

ground. While my arse got cold and numb from me leaning against the wall, scraped from

the rough knobbles on the bricks.

There was a ceiling, and I knew the building above was the reason. Why had someone

even created an alley here? What was its purpose? I glanced around again and noted that

added to the usual rubbish was a porn magazine, right by my feet, the pages open on an

image of a woman with her legs wide open. It was new, recently discarded and, I presumed,

placed there, with that page showing, for a very good reason.

She had a butt plug inserted into her arse.

‘Since I’ve fucked your pussy and your mouth, maybe there is something else I want. And if you

are really mine, you will give it to me.’

That’s what Gabriel had said earlier this morning, and he’d been referring to anal sex,

of that much I was certain. I’d indulged in anal play before, but with slim vibrators or a

finger. Gabriel had said it would hurt, and I could imagine it would, considering the girth of

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his cock. But pain was the name of my game—I craved it—and if he were prepared to give

me the burning, eye-watering agony I was prepared to take, then he was definitely the man

for me.

“That woman,” he said, putting his face close to mine over my shoulder. “She’s loving

that being up her arse.”

“She is.”

“Do you want something up your arse?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll get it. Tell me”—he licked my earlobe—“what is the thickest thing you’ve

had up there?”

“A finger.”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He licked down my jaw then reached round to

take my chin between his finger and thumb. He turned my head to the side and kissed my

mouth, long and hard and wet, then released me, staring into my eyes. “Do you think you

could take a cock up there?”

“I could.” My heart was pattering so wildly, and my knees—God, they’d turned to jelly.

“I can take anything you want to give me. I’ll do anything you want.”

“First, slut, I want you to call me Sir, and I will call you sub.”

“Yes.” I blew out a rush of air.

“Then I’m going to check with you every step of the way as to whether you’re all right.”

He’d gone into Master mode, out of his other character of picking up a strange woman

for sex. I admired him for not forgetting the rules, the real rules.

“You must have a safe word if we’re to continue, sub. Choose one.”

“Filthy,” I said, without having to think about it.

He smiled, like a predator, and it churned my insides and made me feel even weaker.

This man, this glorious, utterly wonderful man, was mine if I wanted him.

And I wanted him.

“Get down there,” he said, shoving me in the back.

Just with him doing that he’d transported me right to where I needed to be in my mind,

thought of as unworthy, a woman he didn’t care about, just someone he could fuck. An any-

hole-will-do kind of man. That he could switch moods to suit mine was a massive bonus, and

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I knew I didn’t want to let him go, let someone else have the pleasure he could give. I needed

it all to myself. I needed him to want to give it just to me.

I stumbled forward, putting my hands out to steady myself on the brick walls on either

side. A delicious dampness cooled my hands, and one of them slid over some shiny kind of

moss. My cunt spasmed, and I couldn’t wait to reach the wall at end of the alley. I practically

ran there and pressed my back to it, spreading my legs as far as my skirt would allow, just

like that woman in the magazine.

Gabriel was still at the other end of the alley, staring down at me, arms by his sides,

clenching then unclenching his hands. He took in a deep breath and his chest expanded,

making him seem wider, making him fill the entryway with very little space remaining left

or right of him. He was so broad, so bloody big, so…so fucking sexy.

He advanced then, his features growing darker with every step he took, the lack of light

in the alley meaning shadows eclipsed his face. Within seconds he’d gone from sexy to

sinister, and the sight of him, more like a silhouette now, thrilled me to my core. I shuddered

against the wall, the first inkling of an orgasm already beginning to build, and panted to try

to control my ever-increasing heartbeat.

Without warning, he shoved up my skirt so it bunched at my waist then yanked my

knickers—hard—so that the thin straps dug into my flesh before they broke. He tossed them

to the ground. Stood on them, grinding the fabric into the filth. Stared at me the whole time

with what I could only imagine was a look of determination. The look of a Master intent on

getting this scene well and truly underway. He reached into his jacket and withdrew

something I couldn’t quite make out, although I saw it was about four inches in length. Then

he removed another object, turning away from me to fiddle with it. I was intrigued as to

what it was, and that served to excite me even more.

“This,” he said, lowering his hands toward my pussy then dragging whatever he held

up through my folds—something hard and possibly covered in lube owing to the cold

wetness, “is what you’ll be taking up your arse. It’s not long, but…”

He got me good and wet, swirling it over my clit, sliding it into my cunt and pushing it

in and out to create more lube. “But it’s wide—wide enough that it’ll hurt, just like you want

it to.”

He moved it toward my rear entrance. Waited a few seconds.

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Then pushed it in.

The burn, the burn, my God it hurt. I clenched my teeth at the ferocity of the heat as my

arse expanded to accommodate the sudden intrusion. I hadn’t been prepared, and that was a

good thing. If he’d fingered me, if he’d prepped me, I wouldn’t have this savage yet divine

stretch going on right then. I keened quietly, literally felt my arse expanding, the rim taut,

and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Yet again he’d tapped into my baser needs and

carried them out.

“That hurts, doesn’t it, sub?” He took his hand away, leaving the plug in place.

“Yes, Sir.”

“How much?”

“So much…but I love it, Sir.”

“I’m sure you do.” He unzipped my jacket. “And now I’m going to have a look at what

you hadn’t put on display out there in town.” He pushed the jacket fronts aside then pulled

down my top, exposing my breasts. “Ah, beautiful.”

As the raging heat continued to grow, beats of pleasure pulsed in my clit. He bent his

head and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, clamping it between his teeth and

tugging.

“Ah, Sir! That’s… Please do it harder.”

He obliged, and the blistering pain in my arse combining with that in my nipple created

an almost unbearable mass of agony.

Almost unbearable.

I could take more—wanted more.

“You’re so hungry for it,” he gasped, his breath hot on my chest. “And I want to give

you it all, take it all from you.”

“Yes, take it.” I reached for his tie, tugged and slid the knot loose. “Bind me and take

it.”

He kind of snarled and growled. I wasn’t sure if I’d pleased him with the suggestion or

infuriated him by demanding.

“Please, Sir. I am yours,” I said, dragging the tie free—the abrasive sound of it

skimming over the cotton of his collar thrilling me.

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He snatched the tie from me. Grabbed my wrists in just one of his hands and with rapid

movements shoved my jacket sleeves up then looped the thin red strip of material around

my forearms. He knotted it with a decisive strength, and a glut of pleasure seared through

me at being at his mercy. There was no way I could release myself and already the taut strip

of material was digging in, creating a pleasing discomfort and a blanch on my skin that I

could just make out in the semi-darkness.

“Lift,” he said, raising my hands. “Higher.”

He forced me onto my toes, and I glanced upwards, watched as he roughly hooked the

tie onto a rusting metal spike sticking from the wall.

Oh, God. This is it.

I was sacrificial, strung up in my disgusting alley with my Master about to bugger my

already smarting arse.

“Sir,” I breathed, studying the sharp stubble peppered over his chin. “Please…”

“Shh, I know what you want slut. It’s coming.” He tugged at his belt, shoved at his

trousers then released his cock.

My pussy quivered at the sight of him quickly rolling on a condom. We would have to

dispense with them as soon as possible. They wasted valuable time when I was gagging for

it.

He stooped and slipped his arms beneath my thighs, stretched them wide as he

straightened, lifting me clear from the ground.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said. “And lock your ankles.”

I did as he’d asked, my back scraping uncomfortably on the wall and the crown of my

head scratching against the crumbling brickwork. I was able to bend my elbows a little but

the tie was on fast, there was no freeing it.

“I’m going to fill you up now,” he said.

As he’d spoken he’d forged into my cunt. One determinedly hard ride that buried him

balls deep.

“Your arse is full and now so is your pussy,” he said in a strained voice.

The sensation stole my breath, caused my vision to blur. Damn, he was big anyway, but

with space limited by my rectum already being full, he felt even thicker, was stretching me

all the more.

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He stilled for a moment, teeth gritted, eyes narrowed. His breaths were noisy and

labored.

I was on fire. Heat poured from the burn in my wrists, right through my body to the

flames in my pussy and the sizzling temperature in my arse. It was delicious, a wonderful

sense of being alive.

“Ah, yeah, fuck, I am so fucking in you,” he said with what I imagined was a grimace.

“And I’m going to give you permission to come, as many times as you want. You’re going to

need that distraction.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He withdrew, pounded back in. Every part of me felt the invasion. I breathed deep,

inhaling his breath, his scent and the stench of the alley mixing with the musk of my arousal.

An orgasm wasn’t far off. I’d been so turned on for this, so ready.

He changed his rhythm. Instead of pumping in and out he stayed buried deep and

ground against my clit.

“Sir, oh… Sir…” I gasped, knowing I didn’t stand a chance.

That was it. A beautiful but wicked orgasm fired through my pelvis. I cried out as my

arse contracted around the plug with concrete-like spasms. It wasn’t painful, just exquisite.

“Ah, fuck, God give me strength,” Gabriel muttered onto my lips. “You’re always so

damn responsive to me.”

“Yes, yes,” I panted. “Only you.”

He grasped my right tit. Squeezed my trembling flesh then tugged my nipple. “This is

dangerous,” he whispered. “Anyone might come and think I’m raping you. Taking a woman

against her will. You’re tied up, gasping, crying…”

“I’m not crying,” I managed.

“You will be in a minute. Crying with pleasure.”

Suddenly he pulled out of my pussy. My feet hit the floor, my body elongating as I was

stretched by the tie securing my hands.

“Turn, slut,” he said, forcing me to pirouette, like a clumsy ballerina.

I faced the wall. My cheek bunched against the cold, gritty brickwork, a slimy patch of

moss sitting just next to my temple.

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“And spread your legs. How the fuck am I supposed to get my money’s worth out of

you, whore”—he tapped at my feet with his, encouraging me to widen my stance—“if your

legs are together?”

“Sorry, Sir.” Cool air breezed between my legs.

“Poor scratched arse,” he said, stooping and palming my buttocks. He kissed them

both, then the crack, right down to where the butt plug was.

A guttural groan grew then burst from me. Feeling his lips, his fingers on my filled

bum, my wide rim, was more erotic than I had ever imagined.

He was enthusiastically licking, kissing, and giving me sharp little nips with his teeth.

Damn, I’d never have believed that I could orgasm from being adored like this, in my most

intimate place, but right now, I wasn’t far off tipping over the edge again, having barely

come down from a clitoral climax.

What must we look like? What would someone see if they ventured down our alley

now? The imagined visual sent a shot of lust to my clit, moisture seeping from me. The

reality of my fantasy was a dream come true.

“Oh, Sir, yes, thank you,” I said, bunching my fists. My fingers were tingling, my toes

were curling.

“You’ll need this,” he said, sliding something cool through my slit. “I want you to have

both holes filled when I fuck your arse.”

I tensed as a hard, cool object poked at my entrance.

“Love balls,” he said. “And you must keep them in, that is an order. If you don’t you

will be punished later.”

“Ah, oh, yes, yes I’ll do my best.”

He pushed the balls into me. They were smooth and dense, their weight already

creating a delicious dragging pressure as they lodged high, and one of them sat neatly

against my G-spot.

“And this,” he said, touching the base of the plug, “needs to come out so I can go in.

There might be a day I want to slip in next to the plug, see just how much you can take up

your arse, but you’re not ready for that. It will take time and discipline for me to train you for

so much. Train you for that and all the other dark, depraved things I have in mind for you—

when you’re mine.”

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“I am yours.” Depraved sounded good to me. The more fucking depraved and

dangerous the better. “And, I…”

My words and thoughts trailed off as he slipped the plug from my anus. The sensation

was strange, a reversal of earlier, but left behind a sense of loss. I had a need for him to

return, get up there, shove in hard and fast and make that spark turn into a wild fire of pain.

A clunk told me the plug had landed on the floor, and in its place, at my back hole, I

became aware of Gabriel’s cock. The head was hot and smooth, impossibly wide.

I moaned in anticipation of what was to come.

He nibbled the shell of my ear. “Relax, let me in.”

“Yes…”

“Because I am going to, you know that. Breach your virginal, whore’s arse, whether you

relax or not. I am going to take this, take what is mine.”

“Yes, please, now.”

“And for forgetting to say Sir again,” he said sharply, “you will feel my flogger next

time I take you. Because, sub, you have to remember who and what you are. Do not forget to

call me Sir again.”

An image of a flogger hovered in front of me. Oh, how I loved floggers. The idea of

Gabriel wielding one as I came made me want to cry, as he’d said I would.

“I’ll flog you until you are scarlet and hot,” he said, exerting more pressure on my anus.

“And I’ll finger fuck you in between hits so that you’re wet, so wet you feel like you’ve

pissed yourself.”

“Yes, please…” I tried to relax my arse, screwed up my eyes and felt a tear squeeze out.

The need, the hunger for him was so great. And the flogger! “I want the flogger, Sir,” I said.

“If that is what you see as a fit punishment then yes, I want the flogger.”

“You’ll fucking get it.” He placed his hands in the dip of my waist, digging his fingers

in deep. “But first this.”

Holding me still, he pushed through my pucker, claiming the first inch of my rectum.

“Ah, oh… Sir.” My eyes watered, I was being made so wide. The heat was flaring, the

pain not deep but like a sharp slap that was staying at its perfect height, the exact soreness I

enjoyed.

“You feel good in here,” he said on a pant. “So damn good. Get ready for more.”

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I arched my back, let my head press against his, and delighted in his firm journey to full

depth.

It was hard to breathe, impossible to think. All I could concentrate on was Gabriel’s fat

cock in my arse and the love balls pressing on my G-spot. I had to relax my arsehole but keep

my pussy tense to hold them in place, and the combination was extremely satisfying.

“Remember I said you can come as many times as you want,” Gabriel said, reaching

round to fret my clit. “You can start coming…now.”

He withdrew almost out then plundered back in.

I let out a cry, and like in the cage he slapped a hand over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, curling his hips into me then away. Over and over he

fucked my arse, his sacs bashing up against my cheeks and his big body savagely pounding

me against the wall.

An orgasm was there, extending from my clit to my pussy to my arse. It was painful

and blissful. I didn’t know where I stopped and my Master began. He’d possessed me in the

most base of ways, and I was withstanding it all. Loving the way he could forge his cock up

my arse as hard as he could and I would take it. More than take it. Ecstasy was blasting

through me. My stomach crunched, my pussy leaked and spasmed. I couldn’t breathe one

second, then I was gulping for air.

He kept the pressure on my clit, a constant stream of sensation that fired me off again

every time I believed my orgasm to be reaching an end.

“Oh, fucking hell,” he said. “Keep coming while I do, sub, yeah, keep…fucking…coming,

just like that.”

I was. I didn’t need telling. I’d never been so brutally fucked in such a dirty, disgusting

alley by a man who called me whore and slut. Clearly I’d been missing out because it worked

for me big time. This was it. I was stuck on a rollercoaster of climaxes and I wasn’t getting

off.

“Yes, yes…” I managed against his hand. “Oh, Sir, keep fucking me…”

“I am…urgh!”

He unloaded into me. The girth of his cock was so swollen and wide as he came that a

new burn hit my rim. I soaked it up, added it to the crest of another climactic wave and

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allowed bliss to own me. Every fiber of my body felt shredded, strung out. My nerves were

living flames, my whole pelvis juddering with ecstasy.

This was it.

I was in love.

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Chapter Four

I held my breath as I came down from the ultimate high—and God, I’d been high. The

grime of the alley and the whiff of sex seemed to swirl around me, and I knew I’d never

forget it. Every time the alley came to my mind in the future I’d conjure up this smell and be

instantly transported, as though I wasn’t entertaining a fantasy, as though I were really here.

“Breathe, sub,” Gabriel said. “You did so well, but you must remember to breathe when

you‘re coming down.” He removed his hand from my mouth and stroked my cheek with the

backs of his fingers.

I did as he’d asked, concentrating on the rise and fall of my chest, the air going in

through my nose then exiting through my mouth.

He pulled out of my arse and kissed my neck. “I’m going to leave the balls in your

pussy, sub. To remind you of this dangerous, dirty fuck.”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.”

He reached up, unhooked the tie and lowered my arms as he turned me to face him. He

made a big thing of rubbing what must surely have been red marks. Then he captured my

hands in his and created friction to return the blood flow and bring my fingers back to life.

He kissed my knuckles and I was grateful for the attention. I adored whatever attention he

gave me whether it was hard and painful or soft and sweet.

It didn’t take long before I felt like my usual self, albeit with shaking hands and

unsteady legs. I stepped forward a little, testing out those legs of mine and whether they’d

have the strength to carry me out. It seemed they did, so I tottered up the alley, knowing

Gabriel was right behind me. He scuffed rubbish out of his path and muttered something

about wishing he’d gone first so I didn’t have to wade through it.

So he was a gentleman too, then, even when following a knicker-less woman he’d just

arse-fucked.

I smiled as I reached the end of the alley and came out into the sunlight. Although

sunlight wasn’t the right word. The sky had turned a murky gray while we’d been fucking

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and the clouds were pregnant with rain. Even though I’d liked the scents in the alley, the

fresher air was welcome and I breathed in a huge lungful.

Gabriel came up beside me and took my hand. “Do you want to walk through town

again, or shall we go the other way to the car park?”

I’d done most of this fantasy, so to discard the last part wouldn’t feel right. “No, we’ll

walk through town, going our separate ways like I wanted. I was used for sex, you used me,

and there’s no reason if that were a real scenario, why we’d want to be seen together

afterwards.”

He nodded, appearing deep in thought. “I was asking in case you didn’t feel, well, that

you didn’t fancy being by yourself.”

I frowned. “Of course I want to be by myself. That’s the whole point of doing this. Like

I got fucked by a stranger with the promise of being fucked by him again. And we haven’t

discussed that bit yet because I need to think up another fantasy.”

“Can’t you just meet him again anyway, without knowing what you want to happen

next? Or are these fantasies of yours the focal point?”

“What do you mean?”

He bit his bottom lip. “In this fantasy, I assume you go straight home to the shower.

Alone.”

“Yes.”

“But will you be going to your home? Or mine?”

I widened my eyes, seeing what he’d been getting at. “Oh, I hadn’t imagined, when I

had the fantasy, that the man I’d been with would want me around—in his house, I mean.

Like I’ve already said, it just goes on and on with meeting up for the next one and the next,

see?”

“But the man does want you around in his house—and this is no longer a fantasy. It’s

real, and fuck, I want you again. In the shower, my bed, my kitchen, everywhere. You don’t

need another fantasy, we can make them up as we go along. Talk about them, create them

together.”

“If I’m going to yours I have no clothes…” My excuse was weak—I was going to go

with him, no doubt about it. Him saying about creating fantasies together—oh my God, they

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could only be better, more intense than mine were. I’d get to see what he liked, what he

dreamed about—to know him.

“Then I’ll buy you some. Now.”

He kissed me hard and long until my legs went weaker and I lost the ability to think of

any more reasons why I shouldn’t go with him. I wanted him to take the reins, to steer us in

whatever direction he chose. I was willing to follow, knowing I had a safe word and could

opt out any time I needed to.

He broke the kiss, leaving me breathless and looking up at him, counting my lucky

stars and feeling so bloody glad I had to take the train to work, that he did, too, and we’d

met, got together, finding we were more suited than we’d realized. We’d been the stars of

one another’s daydreams, and now, here we were, living the damn dream.

“Or you can go home,” he said, “collect some things, then go to mine. Or I could go to

yours. Either way, I don’t want to let you go. We have the rest of the day off. Shouldn’t we be

ill? Shouldn’t we be in bed?” He smiled, and a devilish glint lit up his eyes. “After all, we

called in sick. Taking to our beds is the done thing, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” The possibility of spending the rest of the day in bed with him had my mind

going into overdrive. Fucking, dozing, waking, fucking, dozing, waking…

“Then shall we walk away from one another now, like you wanted, and meet up again

in say”—he glanced down at his watch—“ten minutes?”

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. “Where?” I managed.

“Anywhere you want.” He traced my lips with a fingertip.

“That new women’s clothing shop just up the way a bit. Can’t remember what it’s

called now.”

“I know the one.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Ten minutes.” He turned and walked

away, then glanced back over his shoulder. “And not a minute longer, slut.”

I smiled—smiled so bloody hard—and watched him go, feeling stupidly bereft and

alone even though I knew I’d be with him again very soon. God, what had happened? How

had it happened? I never would have believed things could move as quickly as they had. The

rush of knowing I was falling in love took over, and I couldn’t wait for the giddy heights it

would take me to. Smiling when he sent a text message. Waiting for the phone to ring then

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when it did, racing to answer it. Not being able to sleep when we weren’t together. Thinking

about him all the time, wondering if he thought of me at the exact same moment.

Bubbles of excitement popped in my belly. Instead of entering town feeling like a used

whore, I felt the opposite. I had love coming my way—lots of it going by how Gabriel was

with me—and also lessons in the lifestyle that would open my eyes wide, enthrall me, keep

me coming back for more. I wanted to know everything, to experience everything. A

contract, a collar, all the wonderful things I’d yet to discover. Discipline. Knowing my limits

and realizing that when he said we had to stop, I’d reached them. To not be so greedy and

understand when enough was enough. And toys—there were so many of them to use. The

balls rolled deliciously inside me and I wondered why the hell I’d never discovered them

before.

I hoped to fuck they didn’t slip out and land on the pavement, shock a passer-by to hell

and back.

Suddenly I didn’t want to wait the ten minutes. I needed to be with him now, to feel his

hand slide into mine or his arm go about my back as he guided me between the racks of

clothes and waited for me to choose new things. To smell him, feel his breath on me when he

spoke, to look into his eyes and hopefully find answers there if I asked him a question I

needed him to explain.

I rushed toward the new clothes shop, scanning the shoppers for sight of him, to see a

flash of his red tie flapping in the wind. I couldn’t see him at all, and it reminded me of when

he hadn’t been there at the train station, or outside the supermarket. But he’d appeared both

times and there was no reason for him not to appear now. He was going to be on time, that

was all, wait ten minutes before coming to stand beside me.

I stood outside the clothes shop, unable to stop myself from tapping my foot with

impatience. Again I endured looks from other shoppers, but I was so happy I didn’t care

about their opinions. After eleven minutes had passed, nerves began to set in, so I looked

farther afield, staring down toward Millets.

And there he was, coming out of the jewelry shop opposite, staring up the way at me

and spotting me waiting.

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Harlem Dae

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35

“Don’t get ideas,” he said as he drew level with me. “There’s a long way to go before I’ll

collar you and quite a marked amount of insubordination to be beaten from that sexy, no

doubt smarting arse of yours.”

He’d sounded stern but there was a glint in his eye, a glint that held the promise of the

future.

Our future.

“Of course, Sir. I understand.”

After he’d bought me some new clothes, he curled his arm around my waist and led me

toward a taxi rank and a bus stop. I was sure we looked a mismatched couple, him smart and

me disheveled. Plus now, my lack of knickers felt all the more obvious. My juices were

making the tops of my thighs stick together with each step. I really was starting to worry

about the balls falling out. I’d gone into that relaxed, heady state I often did after good, pain-

laced sex.

“You’re pale,” he said, glancing at me. “We should get a taxi, back to mine. I don’t want

you to have to walk another step when you are so obviously tired.”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

A warmth at being cared for wrapped around me, and I sighed, too tired now to care

where we went. His or mine, what did it matter? As long as we were together, that was my

priority now.

Not releasing me, he stepped forwards and pulled open the door of a black cab. “In,” he

said.

I scooted inside, being careful to sit on the back of my skirt, then crossed my legs.

Gabriel gave his address to the driver and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You

are mine,” he whispered. “And that means I’ll care for you, beat you, satisfy you and make

sure you have all the good, dangerous pain mixing with your orgasms that you desire.”

“I am yours, and I’ll do as you ask of me, knowing you always have my pleasure and

best interests at heart,” I murmured, turning my face into his neck and loving the feel of his

stubble on the tip of my nose. “And are you mine?”

“Yes.” He dropped a kiss onto my head. “I’m yours now. It‘s what was meant to be,

from that very first time we saw each other on the train.”

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PLEASURE AND DANGER

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36

I reached for his tie, neatly knotted again and laying somewhat crumpled on his white

shirt. “And we’ve only just begun, haven’t we?”

“Oh, yes.” He pulled me closer. “We’ve only just begun, my sweet sub. We have many

more adventures to come. Beautifully painful and deliciously dangerous adventures that will

take us both to the extremes of ecstasy.” He reached for my wrist, turned it and kissed the

reddened, delicate underside. “But right now my role is to care for you, bathe you and hold

you while you rest, and then…”

“And then?”

“You can dream up some new fantasies and I’ll tell you all of mine.”

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:


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A Bit of Strange: Pain and Pleasure

Harlem Dae

Excerpt

Chapter One

I paced the living room floor. No, paced wasn’t the right word, stomped was better. I

stomped impatiently in high-heeled boots, black and so shiny they looked like liquid. They

were tight, too, as snug as a latex glove, and creaked in the silence when I moved. I would

have liked them to rise to my thighs, but just above the knee would have to do.

And, besides, I was only going to the supermarket.

The little brass clock on the mantel struck one a.m. and the single sound echoed around

in my head, increasing my irritation.

Damn it. Two hours to go.

I really should have taken my own advice and tried to get some sleep. It would have

passed the time. But how the hell could I go to bed? All day at work I’d been looking forward

to my next meeting with Gabriel. Thinking about the dark promises in his eyes and the sinful

suggestions his words held had kept me highly aroused.

Promises, yes, promises that I would bet a year’s salary he could deliver. And not just

deliver, but give to me with a hefty dose of expertise and experience.

Hell, this was a guy who carried an implement of BDSM sexual torture around in the

lining of his suit jacket. What else should I think? Admittedly, the misery stick was small,

easy to conceal, but my God it could pack a punch, and my arse still had the evidence to

prove it.

I swiped my hands over the back of the short black skirt I wore—yes I had a black

theme going on—and was relieved when spikes of pain darted through my buttocks.

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The welts he’d delivered so skillfully to my bum on the train that morning during our

first stolen meeting were as raw as ever, not least because I’d squirmed on my seat most of

the day, enjoying the erotic memories they’d induced. I’d probably made them worse by

doing that, increasing the swelling and irritating them.

In fact, I’d wriggled so much my boss had asked me if I was okay. I’d blushed furiously,

knowing that the state of my makeup had only added to his concern. But he was an old man,

like a father figure, kind and with a greying mustache. If he knew his secretary had snuck

into a store cupboard on the train with a stranger on her way to work, been brought to a

pain-laced orgasm then fucked hard by a man who’d insisted she’d called him Sir, he’d no

doubt block off one of his coronary arteries in shock, or stroke out at the very least.

No, I couldn’t tell anyone about my liaison with Gabriel. Ours was a very unique

relationship.

I flicked on the TV, whizzed through the channels, jammed a hand on my hip and

tapped my foot, then tossed the remote aside. Nothing on—nothing that could hold my

interest anyway.

The kitchen beckoned, or, rather, a glass of wine did. I clacked to the fridge, yanked at

the door then studied the contents. I didn’t need to go to the supermarket in Bridgewater. I

had plenty of fresh veg and salad, some cooked chicken, organic yoghurts and a punnet of

cherries. There was a thick slice of quiche leftover from my dinner, and I cut myself a wedge,

figuring I would need the energy for later.

Quiche eaten and glass of merlot in my hand, I moved to the window. I parted the blind

and looked out. The rest of my small cul-de-sac was sleeping. The glow from a couple of

upstairs hall windows mixed in with the amber light of the street lamps. It was odd, this all-

night opening at the supermarkets. Was it really worth the shop’s while? Especially in a

quiet, commuter belt residential area like this where sleep was high on everyone’s list of

priorities before they joined the rat race the next morning.

What did I care?

The fact that the supermarket was open—open with skeleton staff—gave my fantasies

fodder. I’d been thinking about those big cages for weeks. Ones I’d seen being pushed

around the store full of stock. They looked so sinister if one imagined being imprisoned

within, like an animal or a showgirl, but not a showgirl with feathers in her hair and a sequin

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bikini—no, a showgirl from my world. My black, sordid fantasy world where pain ruled,

exhibitionism scored points and Gabriel—my fantasy man had a name and a face now—

doled out delicious torture.

I could picture it—me in the cage, scantily clad in my black lacy best, my crotchless

knickers rudely showing off my plump cunt lips. I’d grip the sides, curling my fingers

around the metal, pressing my face up against the hard wire mesh. I’d be a prisoner, and

he’d be able to do what he wanted with me, tie me up, whip me, beat me, fuck me—oh yeah,

fuck me hard as he delivered delicious sensations that had me high on endorphins, flying

with the painful stimuli that always went straight to my clit.

It was my preferred way to come, in pain. Oh, not stubbed toe pain or the misery of a

headache—I liked sensual pain. And Gabriel, it seemed, loved to dish it out.

We were a match made in heaven and I couldn’t wait for him to take me there, even

though to many it would look like he’d sent me to hell.

A shiver of longing went through me. My clit tingled and I squeezed my legs together.

For a brief moment I considered masturbating, shoving my fingers up through the gap in my

underwear and filling myself, perhaps rubbing against the kitchen counter at the same time,

applying pressure to my mound. But I soon scrubbed away the idea. The trouble with

enjoying painful rides to orgasm was that it was very hard to administer them to yourself. I’d

tried, of course I had, but I’d always ended up feeling like a failure and completely

unsatisfied. No, I would wait, wait until Gabriel could see to my needs and hope to fuck we

could find a quiet corner at the supermarket with one of those cages to play in.

Three a.m. couldn’t come soon enough.

* * * *

Fifteen minutes before our meeting, I drove the short distance to the supermarket. I

reckoned I would be okay after just one merlot, and besides, it was creepy walking out when

the streets were so deserted, the night so black and still. I really hadn’t fancied it.

After clicking my VW locked, I glanced around the car park. There were six vehicles

there, not including mine. I had no idea what Gabriel drove, but I hoped his was one of them

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so we only had five staff to contend with. Sounded about right—one on tills, a security man

at the front door and a few stacking shelves or cleaning.

I tugged my leather jacket shut, dragged up the zip then shoved my keys into my

pocket. It was pretty damn cold, especially when not wearing much.

Luckily, as I stepped into Bestco a blast of hot air hit me and the automatic doors slid

shut, trapping the warmth inside.

An overweight security bloke sat at a small station that held a gray monitor. He glanced

up at me.

“Hi,” I said, smiling.

His gaze dropped down my body. He nodded, once, then went back to reading a

paperback. I didn’t think he’d give me any cause for concern. I’d hazard a guess he only

moved from where he sat to go and grab pies from the canteen.

The lights were dazzling after being outside, full-on fluorescent. Gabriel had instructed

me to leave my mascara streaked after our morning fuck, said he wanted me looking like a

‘little slut’. I wasn’t into taking orders, but when he’d said I’d tapped into him pretty well

that had given me a good measure of him—oh yeah, I was efficient at that. He liked the slut

thing as much as he enjoyed being called Sir.

Well, I could do slut. I could be his slutty butterfly all night and all fucking day if that

was what he wanted.

There were two ladies on the tills, sitting next to each other, chatting. I couldn’t hear

what they were saying and they took no notice of me. I wondered if maybe there were more

customers in the shop and I wasn’t such an oddity. Two cashiers seemed excessive when no

one was paying for anything. Maybe they were just getting away with it, being paid for

gossiping.

Good for them if they were.

The magazine aisle called me first, and knowing I had a few minutes to spare I perused

the racks of glossy covers. The men’s one piqued my interest. I liked the words on the front,

the enticements, headlines to make men curious enough to pick up the goods. Was that really

what men wanted to read? Six pack in six days. What does her sleeping position tell you about what

she ‘really’ wants in bed? Protein diets are the new must-do. How dull. I was sure men really

wanted to read things like Get her to suck your cock the way a man would, because surely men

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‘got’ exactly how to do it, and Drive her so wild with your box of toys she’ll still be screaming your

name when the sun comes up or Want anal? Teach her to love it.

I laughed a little at my own silly headlines. I was sure they’d sell more magazines,

though.

Passing farther into the shop, I came to the fruit and veg section. This was where we’d

said we’d meet. At three a.m.

Fuck, I hoped he’d show. What if he didn’t? Here was me in my whorish get-up, out in

the middle of the night, and if he was a no-show, what the hell would I do? Buy some

groceries and go home, I supposed.

I trip-trapped to the salad section. Thought about what I’d said earlier to Gabriel about

bananas and cucumbers being like cocks.

I picked up a cucumber, one that had a cellophane wrapper on it, kind of like a condom,

tested its weight and its girth then passed it from one hand to the other.

Gabriel had a nice cock. Heavy and thick, long too, but not too long, just right. I liked

the fact that he was circumcised—that always appealed to me. Cocks looked pretty when

flaccid without that extra bit, but each to their own. I wondered if it hurt when…

“Excuse me, Miss.”

I spun at the sound of a deep, familiar voice.

Gabriel stood next to me, hands in the pockets of a navy jacket that bunched at his hips,

the sparkle of dew in his hair. His cheeks were flushed and the scent of night rushed off him.

I guessed he’d walked.

Had he needed a drink, more than one, before meeting me? Or did he live really near to

the supermarket?

“Yes?” I replied, tipping my head questioningly.

We had a deal—a deal to pretend we didn’t know each other.

Well, we didn’t know very much about each other. Not really. I didn’t have a clue what

his surname was, his age or what job he did. I knew other stuff, though, fun stuff.

“I was wondering,” he said, “since you’re holding one, if you know a good recipe for

cucumber.”

He set down the empty basket he was carrying and I realized I’d forgotten to pick one

up.

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Oh well.

“Yes, actually I do.”

I half smiled as I took in the stubble on his chin and down his neck. It hadn’t been there

this morning—he’d been freshly shaved then. But I liked this just-got-out-of-bed look. It

matched his slightly roguish features—the bump in his nose, the heaviness of his eyebrows.

He wasn’t model handsome—more rough and ready in an expensive suit, a delicious

combination for a bad girl like me.

“Are you willing to share your recipe?” He picked up a cucumber of his own. Curled

his thumb and index finger around it, like he was stroking a cock, and gave a few lazy rubs

up and down it.

I swallowed tightly and a sudden thought of watching him do that to his cock blustered

into my mind. Damn, that would be so hot, to watch him wank. I hoped it would be on our

agenda. If not, there was another fantasy to keep me warm at night.

“Sure,” I said, “take one cucumber.” I paused and positioned my cucumber as if it were

a dick protruding from my groin. “And a pot of cream. Smother the cucumber in the cream,

add a little spice if that’s your thing, then let it marinate, slowly. To allow the flavors to soak

into the ripe, moist inside of the cucumber, let the cream coat it all over. Best way to do this is

by sliding it in and out of the cream…”

His face broke into a grin. “Just as well I like cream, then.” He bent his head to mine.

Your cream. I could taste it on my fingers all fucking day. Kept me hard—hard for you.

Damn it, lose the cucumbers and let’s go and do this.”

Order your copy here

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About the Author


Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae have been writing together for several years now on top
of their individual author projects. Their joint name is now Harlem Dae. They enjoy
being represented by traditional houses including HarperCollins and Totally Bound as
well as self-publishing their sexy stories on Amazon.

Both live in the UK and gain great satisfaction from bouncing characters and their
raunchy antics back and forth, growing, nurturing and stoking plot lines until they
steam off the page and push boundaries. They consider themselves to be solitary,
whacky, spontaneous and desirous for many things including perfection and are
frequently caught sending messages back and forth referring to each other as Rodney
and Delboy.

Email:

lilyharlem@googlemail.com

Lily and Natalie love to hear from readers. You can find their contact information,
website and author biography at

http://www.totallybound.com

.

Also by Harlem Dae

A Bit of Strange: Beauty and Pain

A Bit of Strange: Pain and Pleasure

Also by Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae

That Filthy Book

Also by Lily Harlem

Thief

Escape to the Country

Treble: Orchestrating Maneuvers

Stand to Attention: Who Dares Wins

Christmas Crackers: Candy Canes and Coal Dust

Bollywood: The Unwholesome Adventures of Harita

Also by Natalie Dae

A Gentleman’s Harlot

Shadow and Darkness

Lincoln’s Woman

Fantasies Explored: Think Kink

Fantasies Explored: Thinking Kinkier

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Fantasies Explored: Kinky Thinking

Stiff Upper Lip: Minute Maid

Bound to the Billionaire: Waiting for Him

What’s Her Secret?: The Submissive’s Secret

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Totally Bound Publishing


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