Secrets & Lies: A Domestic Discipline Novella Read online

  The right of Gemma Mazurke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Copyright © Gemma Mazurke 2018

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  Secrets & Lies

  By: Serena Akeroyd

  Meg's love life was missing a spark until she discovered her need to be dominated. When her fiancé shared the same kink, she thought all her birthdays had come at once, and then she came to learn their relationship was one big fat lie.

  Gabe has loved Meg for years, watching her from afar, and always wishing he'd been the one to date her first and not his brother. When he has the chance to have Meg in his bed—even better, tied to it—it's an opportunity he can't refuse.

  With disastrous consequences.

  Can Gabe make Meg realize she's the one woman he's always wanted? But once secrets and lies have wormed their way into a relationship, is it impossible to establish the firm base of trust needed between lovers, and more importantly, between sub and Sir…?

  This story features orgasm control in a BDSM setting.

  www.SerenaAkeroyd.com

  http://facebook.com/SerenaAkeroyd

  Prologue

  Last Christmas

  With her eyes blindfolded, Meg Spencer’s imagination was going wild. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t all that much to see because she knew she was alone, and she knew the layout of this room like she knew her face in the mirror. That didn’t stop the cogs in her brain from churning.

  Whenever she entered the playroom, she studied it eagerly, knowing she’d be denied the sight of it for the duration of her stay there. But being denied made her all the more curious, and a curious Meg was a dangerous thing.

  Which was why her Sir persistently blindfolded her.

  Every. Single. Time.

  She’d grown quietly accustomed to the sensation of the soft velvet against her eyes. After a while, with the intensity of their play, it could feel a bit sweaty, but she’d come to love that as well. The feel of the binding digging into the side of her head, the pressure of the darkness against her retinas...

  Meg embraced all of it. Heck, she reveled in it.

  Just like now, her eyes blinded, her legs spread and anchored with rope to the foot of the bed, her nipples pleasantly sore from the clamps He used, and the cuffs at her wrists, they were all reminders she belonged to Him. And it was that feeling that drove her insane with need.

  As she lay there totally exposed, it was the most natural sensation in the world, because it was for Him. And that was what counted.

  Her breathing had calmed down by now. He left her there, as was His way, for at least twenty-five minutes. Her body, accustomed to His preparation, usually grew aroused when He positioned her to His tastes. He always left her to come down from that high. She didn’t know why, and at the start, she’d resented it, wanting to get on with whatever He had in store for her. Now, she was used to it and embraced it for what it was: a chance for her senses to catch up with her brain.

  The click of the door sounded in the room, and the loudness of the noise told her how deeply she’d relaxed in her current position. The instant the knowledge hit that she was no longer alone, everything inside tightened, readying for Him, needing His attention like she’d never had it before.

  Her lips quivered. She felt the tremor and tried to stop them, but they were ready to be kissed, to be possessed by Him. Every part of her was ready to be claimed, to be taken—and in any way He saw fit.

  She'd never felt this sense of belonging as she did within the safety of these four walls. When He'd recommended using a playroom in a specialist club, she'd been nervous, hesitant at the notion. Why go outside of the security of the home to somewhere strange? But it worked. She liked it. Enjoyed the transition of leaving her own personal space and traveling to the club. It gave her time. Allowed her brain to acclimate to what was about to happen.

  As a control freak, handing over the mantel of power wasn't easy, though it was the exact reason she needed to be dominated. The half hour's travel gave her breathing room, the chance for her body and brain to catch up and get on the same page.

  The whole experience was one she'd come to depend on. So much so, the idea of being without the freedom of these nights made her skin feel tight, as a tiny kernel of panic started to unfold and overtake her senses.

  No, she needed this. Desperately.

  Just the idea of having these moments snatched from her had her tensing, but she heard His steps as He entered the room, and immediately, a welter of calm overtook her. Meg licked her lips and tilted her head to the side, following the faint noises of His path as He maneuvered their play room. She froze when something, maybe His trousers or shirt, brushed the side of her calf, telling her how close He was. Next, she felt His warmth, and the bed shifted as His knees burrowed into the mattress when He climbed on top of it.

  He covered her, settling between her widely spread thighs, pressing His torso to her bare chest, letting His mouth hover over hers. Her inner thighs felt the chafe of His pants, and her tender breasts ached at the touch of His soft cotton shirt. She wanted to wriggle, to move her back and let the sensitive tips drag against His chest, but she knew better. Christ, this wasn’t the first time they’d played. She knew the punishments He could dole out, and tonight, she wanted pleasure not pain. Release and relief, not the biting edge of being denied.

  Instead of doing what she wanted, she stayed still as death, waiting for His next move. Needing it like she needed her next breath.

  The persistent tremor in her lips was the one thing she couldn’t control, and when He pressed His mouth to hers, a faint whimper escaped her. She couldn’t help it, but He swallowed it as He supped from her. His tongue immediately tangled with hers, thrusting deep, fucking her mouth, claiming her, reminding her who she was to Him.

  She didn’t need the reminder, but she embraced it, nonetheless. Even mewled when He pulled away; his lips returning to that hovering position of moments before.

  Sir’s teeth bit down on the fleshy bottom pad, and He pulled at it, tugged it away and nibbled. Meg settled into the caress then flinched when He bit down hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to mark her until tomorrow.

  The notion should have pissed her off, but instead, it turned her on. Her pussy, already warm from His kiss, started to grow even hotter at His ministrations.

  He hummed against her lips when He let go, and then, pressed His hands beside her head and pushed up and off her. Immediately missing the lack of pressure from His body on hers, she wished she could cling to Him, use her hands to grab hold of Him,
but He was like water... impossible to clasp, to retain for long.

  She knew that. She’d grown accustomed to it, even if she didn’t like it.

  Shrugging off thoughts of what might be, she moved with the bed as it wobbled when He climbed off. She missed His warmth, His presence, but knew He wouldn’t be away for long.

  Hands rubbed along the taut line of her legs. One at a time. Her left, He anointed with oil as He usually did, and His fingers dug into the tense muscles, massaging the strain that came from their long-held position. She settled into His touch, enjoying the preparation as He moved to the right and did the same thing.

  Her back rolled as the tips of His fingers bit into her sore muscles and pleasure of a different nature filled her. The heat of her pussy increased a little more with the non-sexual, but still delicious, touch.

  And then, as He approached her inner thighs once more, she waited with bated breath for Him to touch her pussy.

  He didn’t disappoint. He never did. This was their routine, and it never grew tiring. What happened after this point was always an adventure, but this was something she knew and welcomed.

  Sir’s attention focused on her clit. With His slick fingers, He rubbed the nub, pinched it, circled it until she was shuddering beneath His ministrations. With each touch, she could feel her body preparing for Him, longing for Him to fill her, even though she knew that wouldn’t be until later.

  Her hips burrowed into the bed as He slipped two digits inside her, fucking her slightly with one hand as He tormented her clit with the other, and then, He pulled away. Leaving the nub throbbing and her pussy empty and craving Him.

  She knew better than to cry out, to beseech, instead she controlled her breath and sought calm.

  Meg thought of orgasms as one-hundred steps. It was the only way she could maintain her composure when He dragged her up the steps and didn’t let her come. She had to define her need for release with how close she was to that final step.

  As it was, she was at thirty. She could easily come, and had He given her the magic words, had He told her she was allowed to orgasm then she would have done so. Easily. Without a doubt.

  But, that was His kink. He liked to make her wait. To make her suffer with a pleasure so torturous it bordered on pain. He wanted her to writhe, to cry out, to weep with the exquisite ecstasy of it. And she’d come to crave it all, like a junkie needing her fix.

  A breath shuddered out of her when she heard a vibrator buzz along the sound waves. It buzzed just the once though, and she knew He’d done it to shock her. She’d have cursed Him a year ago, swore at Him and bitched. Now, she knew to stay quiet.

  Sir wasn’t a sadist. He didn’t get off on spanking her or hurting her in anyway. He wanted her to hurt through pleasure, which she guessed was a form of sadism, but as she didn’t want to be whipped or spanked, she was A-Okay with His methodology.

  He’d only ever punished her at the beginning when she was learning. Now she knew the role He wanted her to play, the role she felt sure she'd been born to, He’d ceased castigating her, and Meg knew He preferred that. Knew that it heightened His pleasure not to have to hurt her anymore. Which in turn pleased her, because the longer they were in this relationship, the more she needed to please Him.

  It was as bad as the craving to be with Him, to come from His attentions. She knew she was too close to loving Him, the Dom, but it didn’t stop her from coming here every Friday night. Come hell or high water, she’d be here. Even if it meant canceling important early evening meetings or cutting out on friends.

  This was the pivotal point of her week and nothing, nothing, would stop her from being here and being with this man.

  The thought shuddered through her mind, as a shiver wracked her body when the cool vibrator was pressed against her hot pussy. He rubbed the curved tip along the lips of her cunt, slickening it with her own juices, before returning to her clit.

  When He switched on the wand, it was like an electric shock to the system. The immediate intensity was something she could never get used to, and her nerves instantly rebounded with the power of it.

  Her thighs, tied tightly to the bedpost, strained as her ass went up in the air, both seeking to stay close to and to avoid the vibrator. She writhed in mid-air as He kept up the constant pressure against the nub, dragging her from step thirty to step sixty in less than twenty seconds.

  A scream escaped her when she felt something cold touch her pussy. As it slid into her cunt, tears escaped her, dampening the blindfold. The thick tab of ice sat squarely in the entrance of her body, and it was cold, so fucking cold that the heat her cunt exuded merged with it, creating an odd internal inferno that set her quivering nerves alight. Hot and cold fought those flames for domination, but all she knew was she was close to coming.

  “Can I come, Sir? Please!” she screeched as her hips dropped and soared, intent on evading the endless buzz.

  “No,” He told her, His voice low, soft, the rasp it always was in these intense moments. “Not yet.”

  “When, Sir? When? Please!” Meg cried as the ice melted, dripping from her hot core, leaving freezing traces inside her.

  “Two more ice cubes,” He informed her.

  “Two?” She began to sob as she fought her body’s need to keep on climbing to the summit. The hundredth step felt so close, but she couldn’t afford to climb it. If she did, the punishment was worse... He wouldn’t let her come at all, and that wasn’t something she could handle. Not tonight.

  At the start, He'd been lenient. But now, disobedience was cruelly punished. Twice, He’d done that after she'd failed Him, and two times had been enough of a lesson. Dealing with the aftermath was messy. Shame, disappointment in herself, humiliation, and sorrow that she’d broken His faith in her ability to please Him: they weren’t worth the orgasm.

  Meg dragged herself back to a plateau, not even wincing when a second cube replaced the first one. A low, pained hum rang free from her lips as her mind shut down, focused on containing the pleasure and not letting it escape, not letting it reign free.

  Tears freely flowed from her eyes to be gathered up by the blindfold. Her legs strained, the muscles protesting as she maintained the high bridge, and her breasts started to ache when, with each quiver of her body, the clamps on the nipples swayed, making the tips sorer and sorer.

  She focused on that, preferring that to the combustion going on down below. Explosion was imminent; she could feel it. Knew it was close, and then, He thrust another ice cube into her. But He shocked her by filling her with a freezing cold thickness that sent her body haywire—three cubes in total filled her pussy.

  The delicious agony shot her up to step ninety, made her quiver between dropping down to eighty-nine and rising up to ninety-one. She was close. So close. She could feel it building, quivering at the back of her brain, burning in the deepest part of her core.

  And as that thickness started to melt, leaving more cold trails to drip freely from her pussy, He whispered the magic words, “Come, sweetheart, come. Gush for me.”

  It was the ‘sweetheart’ that was magic, but the rest she embraced with all her being.

  Unlocking the parts of her brain she’d had to clamp down on to contain the pleasure, she rocked her hips harder, nudging her clit more firmly against the ceaseless vibration. It took two thrusts to come, and when she did, the roar that escaped her would have embarrassed her at any other time.

  The whining noises of before were overtaken by the bellow of wondering rage that poured from her throat as she embraced the glorious sensations cascading over her. She let the vibration wash through her, absorbed it as her nerves sang hallelujah as the orgasm to end all orgasms overcame her.

  The buzz disappeared and she wasn’t upset, content to ride the tidal wave still overwhelming her. Her senses were fully engaged though, and her head twisted from side to side, inadvertently rubbing at the blindfold’s clasp.

  When the pleasure began to subside, when it hovered at step fifty, she lowe
red her hips to the bed and cried out at the strain in her legs as they finally relaxed.

  Meg absorbed the pain, but fought harder to control her breathing, to stop the endless burn in her lungs. A fine quiver trembled along her limbs as she finally ‘calmed’, and she started to listen to His movements, finding peace in the knowledge that He was there and planning her next bout of pleasure.

  She wished He’d hug her, embrace her, but that happened after. Sometimes she needed it during, but she guessed she couldn’t have everything. Well, she could but it was at His pace.

  The thought made her bite her lip, but she immediately winced when her teeth came into contact with the tender part He marked with his own teeth earlier.

  She rocked her hips a little into the mattress, wriggled and tried to get a bit more comfortable. Meg never knew how long she could be left in a position so she did her best to settle into it. It meant her yoga classes were no longer trying. He pushed her into positions that made a pretzel look straight, and she had to maintain them.

  Smirking at the thought, and feeling damned proud of the flexibility that so pleased Him, she tilted her head to the side when she heard a noise. Listening intently, she followed the sounds of His footsteps as He approached the bed. Wondering what He had in store for her, she was shocked when He climbed onto the mattress once more, and this time, when His legs brushed her thighs, she felt the faint hair on His skin and jolted at the knowledge of what was about to happen.

  He didn’t stop moving until He was settled at the crux of her body, His weight on her torso. She embraced the heaviness, loving it and the security it gave her. Meg wished she could hug Him, hold Him to her, but that wasn’t a part of the deal here, and she knew that. Had accepted it a long time ago.

  Shrugging off her regrets, she embraced the here and now, loving the fact He was going to fuck her and so early on in the evening.

  His cock finally rested at her core, the glans nudging her clit as He lay there, His face hanging over hers.