My Dark Fantasy [Part 2] [Mdom/Fsub] [bd]

You can find Part 1 [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/k88hmv/my_dark_fantasy_mf_sexual_tension_subdom/). If you’re interested in reading a Part 3 or possibly even more, please let me know in the comments. Enjoy!

 

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One week passed, and all I could think about was that day with Jason. How his skin had felt on my tongue, the touch of his hot breath on my neck, the coolness of the wood flooring underneath my knees. I spent a bit more time on *Dark Fantasy* but, in my mind, I already knew what I wanted. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to break me in.

Ever since we met, I felt this urge to message him about what happened and to arrange another meet-up, but every time I picked up the phone my mind went blank. What was I supposed to say to him? He had told me to “do some research” and I had, but I was no closer to understanding him.

On top of all that, I’d received a stream of angry texts from my friend Lauren, who was none too pleased to find out that I had gone to a stranger’s flat after I had sent her his driver’s license. I explained to her that it was really no different to any other random hook-up I had at the end of the day but, for some reason, she was more sceptical of the “clientele” on *Dark Fantasy*, even though she had been the one to recommend the website to me.

By the end of the week, my excitement had deflated and lay like a shrivelled balloon in the corner of my bedroom. Maybe Lauren was right. Maybe I should stick to the more traditional dating apps. Maybe I should resign myself to nights filled with cheap wine, small talk, and a few enthusiastic thrusts, followed by the mock-embarrassment of the “I normally don’t finish so fast” and the deafening snores.

 

It was a Friday evening and, as I gazed outside of my bedroom window, I saw the purplish haze of night bleed across the sky. I was about to crawl under my duvet and play some video games when I saw the screen of my phone light up. It started to vibrate as the call came through. I plucked the phone off of my bedside table and peered into the screen.

 

It was Jason.

 

I fumbled and jabbed at the phone in a frenzy until I heard that familiar click.

“Hello?” I said, breathless from the shock of it all.

“*Hey there, Green Eyes*,” the low-pitch bass of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, “*it’s been a week*.”

“Well technically it’ll be a week tomorrow,” I said, and scrunched my eyes shut as soon as the words had shot out of my mouth. What was wrong with me?

“*Do you want me to call back tomorrow then?*” he said with that raspy laugh of his. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“No, no, no,” I said, my tongue tripping over itself, “now is fine.”

“*Have you been a good girl and done what I asked?*” he lingered over each word. His voice was like warm honey trickling into my ears. The muscles of my thighs tightened.

“I had a look at some stuff online,” I said, keeping my eyes closed so I could concentrate on the sound of his breathing, “I think I have a better idea of what to expect now.”

“*Good*,” he said, “*are you free tomorrow?*”

“Yes,” I said, my fingers venturing further down my body as I hoped for another taste of that honey-thick voice.

“*Be at mine for two. Bring any toys you have. Don’t be late.*”

There was another click and he was gone.

I lay back in my bed and dropped the phone at my side. Sliding my hand under the elastic of my underwear, I closed my eyes and tried to capture a hint of that voice. The veins running down his arms. Those piercing dark eyes. That rapturous dizziness when he put his hand around my neck and squeezed. Within moments, my hips bucked forward and electric waves of pleasure shot down my legs. I fell asleep encased in that haze of post-coital bliss.

 

I woke up the next day at 11am, as I normally sleep in on the weekends, but time passed as slow as treacle. It was torture. I watched the clock until it struck 1pm, the time I had allocated to start getting ready, and I rushed to the bathroom with my make-up bag.

Once I’d finished my make-up, I grabbed my black handbag from the back of my door and went to my bedside table, where I stood staring at the top drawer. Should I bring it? He had told me to, and I didn’t want to disappoint. In one smooth gesture, I tore open the drawer, snatched my vibrator out of the dark recesses, and stuffed it into my bag. I shot a few furtive glances around my room, as if one of my housemates might have somehow broken in to spy on me.

I checked the time. Shit. I was running late. How was I running late? I threw my coat on and booked it down the road.

 

When I arrived outside of the flat complex, I slid my phone out of my pocket to check the flat number and saw that it was 1.59pm. Right on time. As before, I buzzed his flat, told him my name, and he let me in without a word.

By the time I had reached his floor and could see him in the doorway, my stomach was in knots. I was clutching the strap of my bag with both hands and I had to summon all of my courage just to make eye contact with him.

 

“Long time, no see,” I said, standing there and grinning like a fool.

“Welcome back,” he said, moving out of the door to let me in.
Walking behind me, he guided me to the dining room and gestured for me to take a seat. This time, however, he took the seat across the table from me, as though we were about to start a job interview.

A prickly heat climbed up the back of my neck and my skin became clammy with cold sweat. Placing my bag on my lap, I rummaged around inside before producing a small packet of print-outs.

“I did some research,” I said, sliding the crumpled papers across the table towards him.

“Oh wow,” he held up the papers and that sharp smile cut across his face, “so you did.”

“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” I stammered, “About what a typical sub-dom arrangement is, I mean.”

“Are you now?” he pushed the papers to one side and threaded his long fingers together as he spoke, “well, we should set some ground rules to be safe. For the time being, no drinking or drugs before you come here. Total consent is crucial, and that shit just makes it more complicated.”

I nodded an assent.

“Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, the safe word is quartz, condoms aren’t optional,” he paused for a moment and looked into the distance with those wolfish eyes, “and you’ve got to bring your own toys. Like I said, I have other subs. I don’t want any cross-contamination.”

“Ah,” a jolt shot of recognition shot through me, “I brought this. It’s the only one I have.” I reached into my bag and pulled out my vibrator, holding it aloft like some treasured family heirloom.

“Oh shit,” his eyes snapped to my hand and he covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, “that’s the smallest dildo I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“It’s five inches!” I cried, my brow furrowing as I waved the vibrator at him with indignation. By now, he had lost control. With one hand on his stomach and the other on the table, he threw his head back and belly-laughed for what felt like an eternity. My face flushed a deep red as I placed it back inside my bag and crossed my arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping a tear from his eyes, “it’s just…it looks like a fucking worm.”

He stood up and made his way around the table towards me. He was so tall that, seated as I was, I had to crane my neck up to look at him.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out, “you can bring your tiny dildo with you.”

I pouted before untangling my arms and grasping his hand. He led me down the hallway until we reached the final door. In that moment, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and the sounds around me seemed magnified. The metallic clink of the handle, the whoosh of the wooden door against the carpet as it was pushed open. The tension was rising up inside of me, until I couldn’t bear it any longer.

 

“What should I call you?” I said. He was behind me now as I stood in the doorway, unsure of whether to cross the threshold.

“You can call me sir,” he said, his towering frame looming over me, “or master. Whichever you prefer.”

“And what are you going to call me?” I asked.

He leaned forward so that his eyes were level with mine and placed the palm of his hand next to my head, pinning me up against the wall.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” he said, his eyes roving from mine downwards, “now get in there and take your clothes off.”

“All of my clothes?” I could feel the heat of his gaze on me.

“Did I stutter?” he motioned towards the bed at the centre of the room. I walked towards it and ran my hand along the bedsheets. It was covered in red satin that was cool to the touch. I climbed on top of the bed and pulled my t-shirt over my head. He was still stood near the doorway, silhouetted by the light that was streaming in from outside.

 

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” I paused with my t-shirt suspended at the crook of my elbows. I had put on a set of black lacy lingerie, the only set that I owned, but it seemed far too simple now, with the luxury of those satin bedsheets caressing my skin.

“You’re asking too many questions,” he turned his back to me as he shut the door and I caught sight of his broad shoulders. In the half-light of the bedroom, his lean physique and lithe movements reminded me of a panther. When he looked at me, however, the hunger that danced across his dark eyes was lupine.

 

Maintaining eye contact as best I could, I peeled each item of clothing off until I was down to my bra and undies. He arched an eyebrow.

“Those too,” he said.

The bra snapped against my sides as I unhooked it, revealing my pale breasts. In the shadows, my skin was luminous. I stepped off of the bed and felt the softness of the carpet beneath my feet. Standing up straight, I slid my panties down my legs till they were at my ankles and stepped out of them, taking my time with each movement. He was making a meal of me, his ravenous eyes devouring every inch of my body.

“Can I tie you up?” he pointed towards a loop of coarse rope that hung on the end of the wrought-iron bedframe. I nodded. He approached me, plucking the rope off of the bedframe and standing inches away from me. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

I climbed back onto the bed, only this time my legs were trembling and a wetness dripped down my thighs.

“Put your hands together,” he said and I did as he asked. He began winding the rope in a rhythmic pattern around and between my hands, forming a tight knot. The fibres of the rope bristled against my skin. I pressed my legs together and squeezed in a desperate attempt for some kind of release.

“One last thing,” he said before placing a silken blindfold over my eyes.

He bent forward so that his mouth was at my ear. The warmth of his breath on my skin made my hairs stand on end.

“We’re going to play a game,” he whispered, “if you can stay quiet, I’ll fuck you. But, if I hear so much as a peep out of you, all you get are my hands. Understood?” As he spoke, he ran his hand down my back and over the arch of my buttocks until he reached that wetness between my thighs.

“Yes,” I said, breathless.

There was a loud slap. A white-hot sensation radiated from where his palm had struck my right butt-cheek.

“Yes, what?” he said, with that edge to his voice that I found too delicious.

“Yes sir,” I winced from the pain.

“Better,” the bed creaked and pitched as I sensed him moving behind me. His arms were on either side of me and he curved his body over me so close that I could feel the heat of it. Poised over me, he blew cold air down the crook between my shoulder blades.

As the chill rippled down my skin, he pulled one hand up and toyed with my nipples. I bit my lip to stifle back a moan. One by one, he ran those spider-like fingers down my spine until my hips bucked and I felt the seat of his black jeans against my ass.

When he reached the base of my spine, he kept going until he got to my legs. He grasped each of my thighs and pulled them apart. I was so wet by this point that my lips parted with ease. He slid his forefinger and middle finger down the feathery edges of my labia, working his way inwards until he reached the opening.

 

“Do you want me to keep my rings on when I go inside?” he asked.

All I could manage was a weak nod. He pushed his middle finger inside of me inch by inch, until I felt the smooth curve of his ring. With a short thrust, it went in. The feeling of that cold metal inside of me was too much to bear. I let out a gasp and rocked my hips back onto his hand, forcing him deeper.

“Bad girl,” he rasped, pulling his finger out of me in one swift motion.

 

He got off of the bed and I could hear a rustling sound. Hooking a finger under the strap, he lifted the blindfold up just a little. He was in his boxer shorts now, which tightened around the outline of his hard cock. He took a handful of my hair up in his right hand and pulled my head towards his crotch.

“You could have had this tonight,” he said, holding my head level with his erection, “but you couldn’t help yourself. Guess you’ll just have to wait.”

I could see the dark outline of fresh stains on the fabric of his boxer shorts, right where the tip of his cock was. I was practically salivating. I needed to know what he tasted like.

“Hey,” he said, still holding my head in place, “look at me.” My eyes wandered up his body until they reached his face. He had his other hand poised in front of his mouth, and his tongue flicked out just far enough to lick my wetness off of his fingers. There was that smile again. My heart fluttered.

 

He slipped the blindfold back over my eyes and rolled me onto my back. Caressing my breasts with one hand, he pressed two fingers of the other hand onto my clit and rubbed in a circular motion. In feverish ecstasy, I tried to pull my hands apart, but the knot was too tight.

After a few moments, he removed his hand from my breasts and I could hear his breath becoming heavier. There was the faint sound of friction. He was touching himself. The thought of it drove me wild.

“Cum for me,” he said in a breathless whisper. He kept the pressure light, but the circles he made around my clit became faster and faster. I leaned into his touch and concentrated on the sound of him stroking his thick cock. My legs seized and my hips twitched in euphoric bursts as I came. I felt the warmth of his tongue as he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me hard.

“Can I finish on your chest?” he said. I lay there panting. With my last remaining strength, I nodded. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then he let out a tortured groan. I felt his hot cum pooling in the valley between my breasts.

 

By the time he had taken my blindfold off, he had already tucked his cock back into his boxer shorts. He disappeared from the room for a moment before returning with a hand-towel.

“I can clean myself up,” I smiled, my legs still tingling.

“Let me,” he said, pressing the towel to my skin and taking the utmost care as he wiped his cum off of my chest. He had soaked the towel in warm water. It was so soothing to the touch that I worried I might fall asleep right then and there.

As he leaned over to untie my hands, I caught the faint scent of fresh sweat emanating from his body. His breathing was still shallow, letting me know that he was spent. Once my hands were free, he gestured towards my clothes.

“I’ll leave you to get changed,” he said and turned to walk out of the door.

I stood up and was about to start gathering up my clothes when I heard the swishing sound of the door against the carpet. Right as he was about to step out of the room, he stopped and looked back at me. He strode towards me, cupped my cheek in his hand, and kissed me again, this time without the tongue. He let his lips linger on mine for a few delicious moments before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes dewy and soft in the pale light, “that felt really good.”

 

After that, he left me to get changed and bask in the afterglow of what had happened. As I put my clothes on, I kept reliving everything we had just done. I had never experienced anything like that before. He was in total control the entire time, and I had *loved* every second of it.

 

I walked out of that bedroom feeling reborn.

 

“When am I going to see you next?” I asked as I made my way out of his front door.

“That’s a very bold assumption, Green Eyes,” he said, and my heart plummeted in my chest. I turned around with what I imagine must have been an anguished look on my face, only to find him grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Next Saturday sound good?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded with such vigour that I nearly gave myself whiplash. He let out another deep-throated laugh.

“Okay then,” he said, “see you next week.”

As I skipped down the corridor of his flat complex, I heard him call out something from behind me.

“And don’t forget to bring your teeny tiny dildo!”

 

What a bastard.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/k9hvlq/my_dark_fantasy_part_2_mdomfsub_bd