Read Online The Diary Of A Submissive: A True Story by Sophie Morgan - Free Book Online Page B

long-term unfulfilled fantasies. But as I knocked back a glass of red, told him a vague summation of what had happened with Ryan and my foray into internet smut before shyly admitting I fancied unleashing – or should that be leashing? – my submissive side properly with some experimentation into BDSM, I really didn’t see him as the guy who would take me there. And I wasn’t even expecting him to become that guy – as far as I was concerned we were having a bit of horny chat as a prelude to a perfect end-of-week pick-me-up fuck. I’d come to appreciate his intelligence and his deliciously dirty mind, but little did I know I had crossed paths with someone who it would turn out was ying to my submissive yang.
    Talking to him felt easy. Any worries I’d had about broaching my sexual turn-ons with a partner were negated by the very nature of our relationship. He was my friend, and I trusted him to be respectful and kind while we talked about such deeply personal and potentially embarrassing things, but because we weren’t dating I didn’t feel awkward telling him what turned me on, what I wanted to try. I wasn’t worrying about him as a potential boyfriend who might think I was weird or twisted, or who might be unable to square the vanilla me with the other slightly rude aspects of my personality, because even if he did judge me a bit, it wasn’t going to impact on any boyfriend/girlfriend relationship as a whole. Of course over time I realized he wasn’t going to judge me at all, not least because he too had at least as many filthy thoughts as I did – and his inclinations complemented mine very well indeed.
    He was fully clothed, which made me feel even more vulnerable as he knelt over my naked body to reach my nipple. To start with he was just playing, rubbing his fingers over and around it, watching it bud. I started to relax, my eyes drifting shut to enjoy the sensation, when he pinched it. Hard. I gasped at the sudden burst of pain and looked up to see him staring intently at my face. He released his hold for a second, but the respite was brief, as he adjusted his grip for a tighter one before beginning to pull harder, tugging my breast high.
    The pain increased and my breath started to shudder. I bit my lip and arched my back to try and ease the tension, but with him kneeling across me and my wrists tied I couldn’t move far, and having watched with amusement at my writhing, a slight move of his hand meant the full bittersweet pleasure of pain was back a second later. My moan filled the room and all that ran through my mind was the thought that it really was as arousing as I remembered, at least until the warmth of the pain in my nipple filled my mind and I wasn’t thinking much else at all.
    He turned his attention to my other nipple, licking delicately around it before sucking hard and grazing it with his teeth. I bucked underneath him at the pain. If my hands were free I’d have been running my fingers through his hair, but instead all I could do while he alternated between gentleness and cruelty was clench and unclench my fingers, unsure which it was I was actually craving at that moment.
    Actually, I’m lying. The pain was turning me on more than I’d expected. More than my enjoyment at being spanked by Ryan had even hinted at. And as Thomas ran his hands down my body, I shamelessly spread my legs wider so he could see the glistening proof.
    He chuckled and gently ran his fingers through my wetness towards my clit. In contrast to the treatment of my nipples, his strokes were light, frustratingly so, and I lifted my hips to encourage him to push his fingers deep inside me. But as I moved, he moved away. I looked up in frustration and he raised his eyebrows at me.
    I knew what he wanted; I had spent a good twenty minutes blathering on about how I thought it would be sexy to have to do it. But somehow begging seemed so much easier in fantasy than in real life. What can I say? I guess I’m just