Page 1 of How May I Please You

you

one

~ journey ~

“Don’t move. Not a single inch, Little Devil. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply, but it’s not enough. You take a step back and lower your head until your eyes are level with mine. Your beautiful blue gaze makes my insides shiver with lust and love.

“Say it, Journey,” you command.

“I won't move,” I reply. “Not a single inch.”

“Good girl.”

Fuck. Hearing you call me your good girl—knowing that I've satisfied you is all I live for. I want nothing more than to make you proud, to make you love me, and I’ll do whatever it takes. I always have. More than you know.

I watch you without a single muscle in my body twitching in the slightest. You step closer to me, so close that your musk swirls into my nose—your natural body odor mixed with masculine deodorant under your arms and cologne on your neck send me reeling. While I watch you, you focus on the task of securing my wrists to the Saint Andrew’s Cross. My ankles are already bound to the large X, and now that you’ve attached my wrists, I couldn't move if I wanted to. My body is completely naked and exposed for you, open to your every desire and sadistic thought, and knowing your mind is swirling with ideas on how you want to use me makes me quiver. I’ve given you total control over me, Evan. You have my consent, and every second that passes feels like an eternity as I wait to see what you’ll do with it.

You once told me that with my consent you would destroy me. Do it. Destroy me. Ravage me. Tear me into a million unrecognizable pieces and put me back together again. Only you know how. That's why I'll kill for you.

I submit to you. I belong to you. So whip me. Flog me. Break me. And I'll erupt, scream, and murder for you. I am yours, Evan. Full of love, lust, and lies. I'll do anything to keep you. Just tell me who. Tell me what. Your every wish is my command.

“Open your mouth,” you demand.

I do not hesitate.

The moment my jaw drops open, you push a ball gag between my teeth and secure the straps behind my head. When you step back this time, I take time to marvel at your body. Your shirtless torso is a work of art as your stomach flexes with each breath. The beard on your razor-sharp jawline is well-maintained, as is your wavy brown hair. You stand a full six inches taller than me at six-foot-two, every bit the wide-shouldered monster I’ve been in love with for so long. You make me feel small, powerful, and protected at the same time, and the sight of you makes me weak in the knees and wet between my thighs.

I am bound to the cross with my mouth agape as you stand before me, inspecting me from head to toe. I can see your arousal through your dark gray sweatpants and can’t wait for the moment you unleash it for me. But our form of intimacy doesn't move that fast. This isn't just sex. This is a scene featuring the two of us, and I know you’ll take your time on me. So I’m not surprised when you turn around to open the doors to the wooden wall locker next to you. You reach inside, ignoring a plethora of other toys to grab a red and black flogger—your second favorite toy. Your most cherished toy only comes out on special occasions, so tonight you’ll work your magic with this one, and I wait with bated breath for you to begin.

“Do you remember the non-verbal cue in lieu of your safe word?” you ask, standing before me with the flogger dangling at your side, a thick vein running down your forearm before plunging beneath your index finger.

Unable to speak due to the ball gag, I nod. The non-verbal safe word is simple. I snap my fingers three times in succession and everything comes to a stop. It’s easy, but I will never forget the safe word you gave me before we did our first scene together. You said it was fitting considering how we met, not to mention that I was and still am a detective with the Philadelphia Police Department. My safe word is arrest. Back then, you probably thought I would arrest you because of the body you buried behind your house, but I never would. I would also never think to use my safe word. Not only do I trust you, I want you to push my limits. I want you to hurt me. I may scream, but I would never blare a word to make you stop. We don't stop.

Just as a string of drool drops from my mouth, you step forward and cup it in your hand, catching my spit as you clutch my chin and press your mouth against the other side of the ball gag, kissing it gently. My desire to kiss you roars to life, but the gag is between us and it sets me on fire with want. How is it possible for you to be so impeccable? You are my perfect Dom, engulfing me entirely and consuming me completely.

You step away and I yearn for you to stay close, but you have work to do. Determination shines in your gorgeous eyes as you look at me. You're nearly in Dom Space already, and I’ll help you get there. I am ready for you to begin. Paint your canvas, Sir.

“Take a deep breath, Little One,” you command.

I inhale, and the whack of the flogger stings the flesh on my stomach like a lightning strike. I look down at my belly and find red already blooming just beneath my breasts. The pain whirls to life like a mini tornado atop my skin, but I embrace it. I fucking love it. I love you.

I can't explain the bliss I feel when the tails of the flogger crash against me again and again. Each strike jolts my body as you mark my flesh, sweat beading on your forehead quickly from the exertion. Every time you hit me, my stress melts away.

Smack.

I am no longer concerned about my job.

Smack.

I’m not thinking about money.

Smack.

I am no longer bogged down by everyday frustrations.

Smack.