by Bryony Green

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/Ma, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Slavery, Gay, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Incest, Cousins, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Sadistic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Fisting, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, 2nd POV, Violent, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Rule Number One of any sex game: play only with someone you trust. But what if that someone suddenly changes? Kevin and I have played BDSM games many times before, but he's about to change the rules...

"You did say 'anything, ' didn't you?"

Kevin had slid into the bed only a moment ago, cozying up behind me, his front pressed to my back. He was naked and ready. As he whispered his somewhat cryptic question, his right hand caressed my side—slowly, gently, his fingers tracing a long line from my thigh to my breast and back again. He knew what he was doing.

I opened my eyes and looked at the wall. "What'd you have in mind?" I asked warily.

But he wasn't giving out information. "Mm-mm," he hummed against the back of my neck. "No questions. Just yes or no."

At this point, he ran his hand around the front of my thigh as it passed upward, and his fingertips brushed between my legs for just a second. A thrill of excitement pulsed through me at his touch, but there was a hint of panic mixed in.

"Well, how can I—?" I began.

He cut me off with a quiet but insistent "No." His hand came to rest on my hip and he pulled me tighter against him, pressing his erection into the crevice between my buttocks. "I'm asking," he said between carefully placed kisses on my neck and shoulder. "You're answering." I shivered as his tongue flicked across my skin, and then he continued, "I asked you what you wanted me to do to you. Remember?"

I did remember. A few nights earlier he had been teasing me—torturing me, really—bringing me almost to orgasm, then stopping abruptly. The result of his efforts was a longing so fierce that it bordered on physical pain, and I had begged him to relieve me. When he asked, I told him he could do anything he wanted. He had regarded me with a look of intrigue, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Anything?" he repeated as though he needed further instructions.

"Yes, yes!" I insisted. "Do anything you want. Just please don't stop!"

That had triggered something in him, and he entered me immediately, thrusting violently until we finished seconds apart. Panting and soaked with sweat, he'd collapsed on top of me, still inside me. And when at last he caught his breath, he made love me to slowly and sweetly...

"Do you remember?" he prompted, bringing me back to the present.

"Yes," I whispered tentatively, "but I—"

"Mm, no buts." Rolling backward, he pulled me toward him until I was flat on my back. Then he sprawled across me, effectively holding me in place. I was suddenly aware of how hard he really was—and how wet I'd become. Whether or not I was agreeable to whatever he had in mind, I was certainly aroused by the mystery, the element of danger. And there was no doubt whatsoever who was in charge here. I found myself spreading my legs to accommodate him.

But he only smiled. "You want it?" he asked.

"Want what?"

Kevin shook his head. "No questions," he said again. "Yes or no. Do you want it?"

I didn't answer. How could I? I didn't truly understand the question. But now he seemed to be losing patience. His look of amusement was replaced by a more menacing expression. "I can make you want it," he said flatly.

I realized he was acting. Wasn't he? He knew me well. We'd played these games many times, and he was good at his part. But always before we'd agreed; this time it was all his idea, and I had no way of knowing what was in store for me. Of course I trusted him (Rule Number One of any sex game: play only with a partner you can trust), but that didn't mean I was ready and willing for absolutely anything he might dream up. Still, as I said, the fear of the unknown was proving to be a powerful aphrodisiac, and I felt my pelvis rising toward him in spite of me.

To my surprise, he pulled his hips back. "Wrong," he scolded. "You don't get what you want. You have to want what you get."

His threatening tone was so convincing, so real, I was actually a little scared of him. He did seem to be getting a bit carried away with this. Now I wasn't so sure I wanted to continue the performance, but telling him no or trying to stop him would only encourage him. That was all part of the game. I had to find another way to let him know I wasn't up for domination tonight.

He'd left my hands free so far, preferring instead to immobilize me with fear. Now I decided to risk reaching for him, thinking to gently caress his shoulders, his chest, brush his hair away from his face. But before I could touch him, he grasped my wrists and forced them down at my sides. He gave me a dangerous look. "Don't move again unless I tell you to," he warned. "And shut up until I ask you a question." On hands and knees, he hovered over me, straddling my thighs. For a moment he simply glared at me, making his point. Then he dipped his head and took my left nipple between his teeth.

Some people claim that there's a fine line between pleasure and pain. Not so for me. In my case there's a definite overlap, and Kevin was well aware of it. This wouldn't be the first time he'd used this knowledge to control me. It always worked.

He let his lips close over my breast and sucked my flesh into his mouth. I watched his strong jaw work as he sucked harder, increasing the pressure until I thought my skin might tear. When he opened his eyes and caught me looking, he abruptly bit me—hard. I cried out in surprise, and he raised his head and smiled. "That's what I wanted to hear," he said. "Did I hurt you?"

He knew he had, but I was expected to answer. "Yes," I said softly.

Cocking his head slightly, he pretended he hadn't heard. "What did you say?"

"Yes," I said louder. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, you hurt me."

"And you liked it."

I knew how I was supposed to respond. "Yes.'

"You like pain."


"You like to be controlled."


This was nothing out of the ordinary, but he was about to change the routine. A brief pause, and then: "I own you."

One look in his dark eyes told me to play along, so I whispered, "Yes."

Again he smiled, a malicious expression taking over his usually mild features. "Well then," he said thoughtfully, "I can use you any way I want."

I gazed at him steadily, wondering if I should argue. He seemed to be waiting. But when I said nothing, he let go of my wrists and backed up. "Spread your legs," he commanded, then slid two fingers into me when I obeyed. "Who does this belong to?" he asked.

He had never gone so far as to claim property rights on my body before, but I gathered he was just trying to add some variety—and truth be told, the new master-slave concept was more enticing than I might have imagined. At last I conceded, "It belongs to you."

"And whose is this?" he continued, emphasizing the last word by shoving a third finger into my anus.

I winced at the intrusion but managed, "Yours."

He leaned over me, his hand still inside me, and breathed into my ear, "It's all mine, isn't it, baby?" I nodded, and he licked the corner of my mouth. Then he said, "Tell me I can use you any way I want."

This last demand was frightening. If I complied, were there still rules? I looked at him uncertainly, attempting to pose the question with my eyes. There was no answer in his. "Kevin—?" I tried, but he stopped me with a sharp thrust of his hand.

"Tell me."

Seeing no alternative, I told him what he wanted to hear.

I was rewarded then with deep, probing kisses that began at my mouth and ended where his hand had been. His tongue was incredibly agile, and somehow soft and hard at the same time as it searched my holes. Looking down, I met his gaze and he lifted his head to smile at me. The sinister expression was gone, and his face glistened in the low light, wet with my juices. He licked his lips and resumed. Moaning with pleasure, I began to rock my hips. My adrenaline was still high from the fear of a few moments ago, and I felt myself hurdling toward a record-shattering orgasm.

But he kept it from me. At exactly the right moment, he pulled away. "Oh god!" I cried. "Don't stop. Let me come."

"Not yet."

I writhed on the bed, furious. "Dammit, Kevin! Don't do this to me again."

He moved up beside me and took my face in his large hand, forcing me to look at him. "Anything I want," he reminded me, his voice low. "Anything."

I could feel his erection against my thigh, harder than ever, and the sensation of need between my legs outweighed any trace of judgment I might still have had. "Yes," I moaned. "Yes, anything. Just please, Kevin, please..."

Standing, he moved to the door.

"What are you doing?" I whined.

He cocked his head. "Anything I want," he explained as he turned the knob.

And a moment later, to my surprise, a figure appeared in the open doorway.

Incredibly, Kevin stepped aside and motioned our visitor in. I followed my first impulse to cover myself, but this apparently violated the terms of my slavery. My "master" snatched the blanket away from me and flung it against the far wall. I watched it land in a heap on the floor, then finally glanced at our guest. I had to look twice to be sure of what I saw, and still I didn't understand.

Brian, Kevin's cousin, had apparently been invited to join the party, but the idea of his accepting such an invitation seemed ridiculous. Yet here he was, standing at the foot of the bed in a room with two naked people. He was still looking at the crumpled blanket, his eyebrows raised, and I got the impression he was wondering the same as I was: what was he doing here?

.... There is more of this story ...

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