SURRENDER TO THE MISTRESS 

A collection of four erotic novellas

ALEX JORDAINE

Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2012
ISBN 9781908262660

Copyright © Alex Jordaine 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Book One – Guilty Secret |
Book Two – Cruel Denial |
Book Three – Dark Delusion |
Book Four – Absolute Submission |

To Mistress G, the love of my life

‘Remind me of my place. If I cry, give me reason, show me no mercy. Force me to my knees and use me as you will.’
Slave’s prayer

Other titles by Alex Jordaine

BOOK ONE

GUILTY SECRET

‘Every person lives his real, most interesting life under the cover of secrecy.’
Anton Chekhov

Chapter One

LAUREN WRIGHT AND her husband, Mark, were naked on top of the rumpled sheets of their bed, both of them as sexed up as could be, in pain with desire. Mark was flat on his back and had a powerful erection, and Lauren knelt over him, smiling provocatively and gazing into his eyes. Her dark hair swung down either side of her lovely face and her full breasts swayed above his chest. Mark was breathing fast and his heart was pumping overtime. He felt indescribably horny, his cock rock-hard and so urgent with need it throbbed fit to burst.

Lauren reached a hand between her quivering thighs until her fingers were wet with love juice and then held them to Mark’s lips. He pushed out his tongue and licked her juices away. Lauren then kissed him ardently on the mouth for a moment before pulling her head back and looking down at him again, her big, green eyes shining. ‘Do you love me?’ she asked.

‘More than that,’ Mark replied through trembling lips. ‘Much more. I worship you.’

Then darkness descended all of a sudden. It was like someone had thrown a switch.

‘Lauren,’ Mark called out, but there was no reply, only the echo of his own voice in the still night air.

‘Lauren, darling,’ he called out again, or thought he did. But maybe it was inside his head. The rest of it had been, after all. Mark had been dreaming.

He closed his eyes tight shut and tried desperately to return to the dream, but it wasn’t any good, of course it wasn’t. His heart sank like a stone. It had felt so real, that dream. It had been as if they were still together, still the happiest, horniest couple in the world. But no. Mark started to remember, his mind pregnant with memory, his cock still achingly hard from the dream …

The first time they’d met had been a matter of purest chance. Mark had been mooching around the West End of London one Saturday afternoon, just soaking up the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the place. He was feeling blithe, cheerful, glad to be alive.

Mark was a natural urbanite, a real city person. He loved working and living in the centre of London, as he had done over the last dozen years. It was such an exciting mix of the old and new, was so full of energy, had such an incredible buzz.

It was at its best too on that warm bright day in early spring. The cloudless sky was an eggshell blue, a soft breeze was blowing, and the surrounding masonry was doused in the glow of gentle sunlight.

Mark crossed the road, dodging a car that was being driven too fast, and made for The Americas Bar. He’d never been there before but on cursory inspection it looked about right for a quick drink – dark, clean, anonymous and not too crowded.

He ordered a vodka tonic and perched on a high stool at the bar. The ice rattled in the glass when he took his first sip and he felt the cold thrust of the vodka down his throat. Mark took the glass from his lips and glanced to his side, and it happened, that heart-stopping moment.

Mark noticed a woman so stunningly beautiful it made him gasp. She was standing near the end of the bar, nursing a glass of white wine, and was looking at him. Mark thought at first she might be just glancing casually in his direction. But her stare was too insistent for that. He reciprocated, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t take his eyes off her in fact. The woman was perfect. It was as if she glowed.

Mark let his gaze traverse her body, let it drink her in. Her shoulder-length hair was dark brown and lustrous. She had warm, full lips and strong features with almost Slavic cheekbones. Her neck was slender, her shapely form shown off to splendid effect by what she had on – skin-tight black denim jeans, red high-heeled sandals over bare feet and a maroon short-sleeved top that hugged her contours and exposed a tantalising glimpse of her taut, flat stomach.

This vision of loveliness clearly wasn’t wearing a bra and the nipples of her well-shaped breasts were sticking out stiffly. Mark imagined them in his mouth and felt his cock start to swell. Finally he allowed his eyes to meet hers. They were emerald green and large and framed with long lashes.

Mark flashed what he hoped was a winning smile at the beautiful woman. In response she raised her wine glass and smiled back at him, fixing her eyes on his in a way that penetrated behind his pupils and thrust into his body. That smile, that look, induced in Mark straightaway something akin to enslavement.

Then she put her glass down and started to walk towards him. He watched her as she glided through the bar. Mark couldn’t help noticing how many of the men in the place looked after her, ogling her longingly as she sashayed past. Their eyes lingered on the bounce of her braless breasts, the stiffness of her nipples and the seductive sway of her hips.

‘Hi,’ the woman said, putting her hands on those shapely hips and flashing Mark that enslaving smile once again. ‘Lauren Spencer’s the name. I think we should get acquainted, don’t you?’

Mark got up from his stool. ‘Your place or mine?’ he joked, rather feebly he thought as soon as the words had tumbled out of his mouth. He wished he hadn’t come out with that hackneyed, cheesy line. ‘My name’s Mark – Mark Wright,’ he added. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ Lauren said. You sure are, he thought. She went on, ‘Nice shirt, by the way, matches the blue of your eyes.’

‘Nice everything,’ said the master of repartee, eyeing her up and down. Mark wondered what seeing that body naked would be like. It was extremely enticing. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ he added, using another of his brilliant conversational gambits. His mouth seemed to have lost all contact with his brain since he’d started talking to this gorgeous creature.

‘Yes, it is a lovely day,’ she agreed, smiling.

‘What brings you to these parts?’ What brings you to these parts? Just listen to yourself, Mark thought. How gauche she must think you are. At least he hadn’t asked her whether she came here often.

‘I live not far away from here,’ Lauren said. ‘I thought I’d have a fortifying drink before embarking on some serious retail therapy.’

‘I see,’ Mark said. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss her sensuous lips.

‘But plans change,’ Lauren went on.

‘Eh … right.’

‘I said we should get acquainted, didn’t I?’ she said.

‘You did,’ Mark agreed.

‘And you said, “Your place or mine?”’

‘A great wit, aren’t I,’ he replied. ‘Sorry about that. You see, I …’

Lauren cut him short. ‘My place.’

‘Sorry?’ His eyes widened.

‘You won’t be,’ she said. ‘Let’s you and me go off and get acquainted, Mark.’

And that’s exactly what they did. They got acquainted. At her place. Boy, did they ever get acquainted. The sex was joyous. They fucked with an intensity Mark hadn’t thought was possible until then.

He remembered it so clearly now, all on his own in the darkness of his bedroom. His groin tightened and he brought his hand to his erection as his body flooded with the memory of that first time …

‘Come with me,’ Lauren said, starting to make an exit from the bar. Mark put down his half-empty glass in double-quick time and followed in her wake, walking on air. He watched in a daze as she hailed a black cab for them. It took the pair the short journey to Lauren’s house, which was in Chelsea, just behind the King’s Road. It was in an affluent residential street and was one of a white-stuccoed, black-railinged Victorian terrace. This girl is clearly not short of money, Mark thought vaguely, but it was hardly the first thing on his mind.

Lauren led him from the taxi to her front door. ‘Follow me,’ she demanded once they’d entered the elegant, expensively furnished property, and he followed her dutifully up the stairs and into her bedroom.

‘Let’s kiss,’ Lauren said next and they did. They kissed with great passion, their tongues flicking together. They lost themselves in that wonderful experience, their first kiss. Lauren broke the kiss eventually, breathless.

‘Strip naked,’ she said. Mark instantly obeyed, scrambling out of his clothing, and stood before her, his long, thick cock stiffly erect. Lauren’s eyes swept over him like a lighthouse beam, lingering on his erection, and she smiled a seductive smile. Then it was time for her to join him in nudity. She kicked off her red high-heeled sandals, peeled off her skin-tight black jeans and the tiny G-string of the same colour she’d been wearing under them. Lastly she pulled her tight maroon top over her head and stood before him in all her voluptuous splendour, utterly, gloriously naked.

Lauren led Mark over to the big doublebed. ‘Stand right where you are,’ she demanded, throwing herself onto the bed. She lay back, head resting on two upright pillows, and began to pleasure herself, spreading her legs wantonly wide apart and rolling her fingers over her clit. All the while she looked straight at Mark, her luminous green eyes staring right at him, hypnotising him.

Mark’s cock was steely-hard by now. He felt urgently that he just had to make love to this magnificent woman, this naked, lascivious goddess. But Lauren seemed in no apparent hurry as she continued to pleasure herself, plunging first one and then two fingers into her wet pussy. Then she spread her labia with those two fingers and went back to teasing her clit, this time with the middle finger of her other hand, all the while gazing lustfully into Mark’s gleaming eyes.

Lauren stopped masturbating in her own good time. ‘Go down on me,’ she demanded, reaching out her arms to Mark in a beckoning gesture and he crawled sinuously up the bed to do as he’d been told. He brought his face between her thighs, pressed his lips to her sex and began licking her labia and clitoris as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. His tongue worked ever more vigorously on her sex – and yet still Lauren remained in control.

‘Turn onto your back,’ she told Mark next and he immediately obeyed. ‘I want to suck that big, hard cock of yours while you continue to pleasure me with your tongue.’ Lauren swung her hips over Mark’s face so that he could carry on eating her pussy while she opened her lips and engulfed his pulsing shaft with her mouth. She sucked his cock so vigorously that Mark became certain he was going to ejaculate at any second, despite the fact he was doing his very utmost, straining every sinew, to hold himself in check.

Lauren stopped, though – almost at the point of no return for Mark – and gave him a few moments to calm down sufficiently before … ‘I want to feel your cock inside me now, Mark,’ Lauren gasped as she shifted position and straddled his thighs. ‘I want it so much.’

She grabbed Mark’s shoulders and raked her fingers over his body. Then, with her thighs pressing wetly against his, she positioned herself so she could manoeuvre the head of his cock against her pussy lips. She slid herself over the length of his shaft, then up and down, up and down, riding him in a mounting frenzy of desire.

Lauren’s pussy muscles flexed around Mark’s stiff cock, rocking him, her vagina tight and wet, for it was dripping liquid. He reached up to her but she grabbed his arms and pinned them above his head. Mark grunted with her movements as she continued to push her hips up and down, fitting her sex round his hardness. Lauren shoved herself down on Mark with increasing force and he groaned and whimpered and stiffened even more inside her as she rose and fell on him.

Lauren began to moan and flush and rock back and forth, Mark’s stiffness rock hard inside her and ready to explode. Then she let go of herself altogether and shuddered frenziedly as exquisite oscillations began to pulse through her.

And as Lauren climaxed Mark allowed himself his own ecstatic release. He began to spasm uncontrollably beneath her before letting out a strangled cry and shooting his liquid, spurt after vigorous spurt, deep inside her sex.

And that was only the beginning of an afternoon and evening of unbridled passion for Mark and Lauren, during which, like the two crazed sex addicts they’d now become, they made love again, and again … and again.

Finally exhausted, they fell into deep, blissful sleep, cradled in each other’s arms. They slept like angels. Mark awoke the following day to a shard of early-morning sun slicing through the bedroom curtains. Lauren nudged him fully awake and announced, ‘I want you to move in with me.’

‘You really do like to get straight to the point, don’t you?’ Mark replied, giving her a lazy grin.

‘Well?’ she persisted.

‘Consider it done.’

‘It’s no good,’ Lauren then said, her big green eyes glistening. ‘I simply must have you again.’ She guided his mouth to her sex as she fastened her own lips tight to his cock. Mark’s tongue moved vigorously over the lips of her sex as his cock became even harder in her mouth, throbbing in her throat.

Lauren took her lips away from his shaft and shifted position. ‘I want you inside me again now,’ she said and pushed him unceremoniously onto his back. Mark groaned with pleasure as Lauren got on top of him and straddled his thighs. Sliding her moist pussy down onto the thickness of his cock, she ground her hips down and started to ride him. And ride him and ride him.

Lauren looked through half-drawn lids into Mark’s eyes as she shoved herself down on him with ever-increasing force, making him groan and stiffen even more inside her with each thrust.

Oh, the memory of it! Mark groaned again and stiffened even more in his own hand as he relived the experience …

He began to thrust his hips upwards rhythmically, pulsing with his imminent climax, and Lauren rocked back and forth on his cock as she began to rub her sticky fingers frantically over her clit.

His cock.

Her fingers.

Her clit.

His fingers.

His cock.

His fingers, stroking away, jerking more forcefully at his cock until it was ready to explode, until he was ready to come.

Then he did come, hard. Mark groaned and tightened his fist, spurting warm seed that splashed over his fingers as he repeated her name over and over into the darkness of his bedroom. ‘Lauren, Lauren, Lauren …’

Chapter Two

MARK TRIED TO get back to sleep after that but he had no success. Not long ago he’d been back with Lauren, if only in his dreams and half-dreams. Now he was wide awake, his mind in turmoil. A jumble of thoughts crowded his brain, with but one subject: Lauren, his goddess. And the past closed around him once more …

Mark had been deeply in love, utterly besotted with Lauren from the first moment he set eyes on her. ‘I want you to move in with me.’ That’s what she’d said to him during that sex-drenched weekend they’d first met and for him to have said no would have been unthinkable. As Mark got to know her over the following weeks and months, it became even more unthinkable that he could ever leave her.

Lauren had it all as far as he was concerned. She was warm, intelligent, vivacious, and incredibly beautiful. She continued to be dynamite in bed too – inventive and adroit and unconstrained. She also continued to be something else: commanding, aggressive even, during sex in a way that spoke to some dark need deep inside Mark that he chose to blank from his mind.

Lauren was everything Mark had ever dreamed of in a woman, and so much more besides, and he couldn’t imagine life without her. She obviously had similar feelings about him because four months after their first meeting she asked him to marry her. Actually, he’d been about to propose to her, but typically she got in first. Lauren always seemed to be one jump ahead of Mark.

Mark found married life with Lauren wonderful. She and he were exceptionally close, closer than Mark had ever imagined he could be with another person. They liked the same things – books, films, plays, food, wine, you name it. They had the same sense of humour, shared the same interests. And they were so hot for each other it just wasn’t true, making love constantly, often for hours at a time. At first.

Eventually life got in the way and the honeymoon period finally came to an end. The couple were both going from strength to strength in their respective careers, his in marketing and hers in publishing, and as time flew by – one year, two years, more – they became busier and busier at work. They became busier still in the senior positions they both inevitably found themselves occupying courtesy of their successful careers. That meant, among other things, having to work even longer hours, seeing less of each other.

Even so, that usually still left the weekends and Mark cherished his time with Lauren. Sundays were the best. The couple got into a delightful routine: they’d sleep late and when they awoke Mark would go down to the kitchen and make them a continental breakfast. He’d bring it back up on a tray along with the Sunday papers and he and Lauren would lounge around on the bed, eating and drinking and reading the papers.

Then they’d shower and get dressed in a leisurely fashion. If the weather was lousy, in the afternoon they’d watch one of the classic films they had on DVD. If the weather was OK but a bit chilly they’d go for a good long walk, blow away the cobwebs. Because it was Sunday the streets in and around Chelsea were quieter and the pavements emptier. But there was still the simmering energy that never left central London and they both found it invigorating.

If it was sunny but not too hot Mark and Lauren would take a stroll in one of the London parks, Hyde Park maybe, or Regents Park. They’d picnic on the grass and chat and casually people-watch, looking at the couples, the tourists, the joggers, whoever. Then they’d wander back arm in armthrough the park in a homeward direction, feeling chilled out but energised, just right.

In the evening Mark and Lauren would go to a nearby Italian restaurant they liked. They’d have vodka tonic aperitifs, a meal – delicious but not too heavy – and some good white wine to accompany the food. They’d finish with coffees and then walk the short distance back to the house for “liqueurs”. It was their private joke.

What would happen was this. As soon as they got home they’d go up to their bedroom and strip naked. Invariably Mark would already be very aroused at the prospect of what was to come, his breathing heavy, his heart beating fast. He’d lay on his back on the bed, his hard cock ready and jutting from his body, and Lauren would straight away sit on his face. Mark would stare up, blissfully helpless, as her perfect backside descended before him. Then her thighs would clamp down on his head and his face would be pinned down into her crotch. Soon his nose and mouth would become slick with Lauren’s wetness as she used him for her pleasure.

Then she would lean forward and take Mark’s shaft in her mouth, all the while continuing to rub her wet sex in his face. As he smothered in her crotch he’d become totally immersed in the aroma and sensation of her pussy grinding in his face. Lauren would suck and suck at Mark’s hard cock as she rocked forward and back, rubbing her crotch over his mouth. She would then begin stroking her clit and her wet pussy, her fingers smacking against his chin. And she’d keep on stroking herself, her pussy squelching wetly against her fingers, until she climaxed in spasms. This was Mark’s cue to ejaculate into her mouth, which he duly did, his whole body shaking with orgasmic pleasure. Come sprayed out of his cock in liquid bursts deep into Lauren’s hot, wet mouth.

But Lauren didn’t stop squirming and rocking on his face and didn’t stop sucking his cock, didn’t stop until she’d sucked him dry. She would withdraw her mouth from Mark’s cock, swing round and spit some of the semen into his mouth, keeping the remainder for herself. The couple would then kiss languorously, their mouths creamily wet, as he swallowed his come mixed with hers and she swallowed the same, and it was like they were drinking a fine liqueur, that’s what they agreed. It was warm and heavy and delicious.

And they would look directly into each other’s eyes when they shared this kinky experience, their Sunday night ritual …

Hecould see Lauren’s great big eyes now, sparkling emerald green, hypnotic in their intensity.

It was as black as pitch in Mark’s bedroom, the one he’d shared with Lauren from the day they’d met, and which he now had all to himself. But he could still see her the way he’d seen her then. Hell, he could still see it all – the way Lauren had looked when she first came into his life, the way she’d sashayed towards him in The Americas Bar, picked him up, the radiance of her beauty. He could still remember how she felt – her lustrous dark hair, her angular cheeks, her full lips, her shapely breasts and thighs, her slender neck and hands and feet.

Lauren had been Mark’s whole world, his entire universe, for such a long time and now she was gone. What they had shared, that magical thing, was gone. It was history. There were times very occasionally when Mark persuaded himself he was starting, just starting, to get over Lauren. Then there were times like now when he realised all too clearly that he was more obsessed with her than ever. He was consumed by thoughts of Lauren, could think of nothing, of nobody else.

Mark knew he ought to pull himself together and move on. But how, for God’s sake? Perhaps he should move on literally, live somewhere else altogether, miles away. Certainly this house, which was his now, simply wouldn’t do any more. It had a lot going for it in many ways, Mark couldn’t deny that. It was worth a small fortune, apart from anything else. But it was completely suffused with memories of Lauren. How could he possibly hope to get over her if he kept on living here?

All that aside, Mark said to himself resignedly, one thing was certain. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep. He simply couldn’t be more wide awake. He switched the bedside light on, got out of bed and padded downstairs, naked.

Mark made himself a mug of coffee in the kitchen and took it into the living room, going over to the PC in the corner of the room. He sat down heavily in front of the screen and booted up the computer. Mark decided to log onto the Internet to look at some porn. Why not? he thought. It would pass the time. And time was something he had plenty of these days now he was not only wifeless but jobless too. He was time rich. He was a fucking time billionaire. Sipping at his coffee, Mark looked for sites featuring BDSM. He surfed around for one most likely to give him the specific fix he needed, and that had to be a Femdom site.

He decided on one of the sites he was already registered with and downloaded a short film that looked promising. From the stills it evidently involved a dark-haired beauty in a black leather catsuit, whipping the shit out of a good-looking young guy who was wearing nothing but a slave’s collar and the marks of her lash. Mark took a couple of gulps of coffee as the opening credits appeared. He rested the mug on the computer table, turning the sound down so he could concentrate on the images before him and use his imagination more.

As Mark watched the film, he put himself in the place of the man and fantasised that the beautiful woman was Lauren. And that aroused him, no doubt about it. He could feel his breath coming faster. His cock grew hard again and he gripped his hand round it, pushing his fist up and down on himself.

What he was watching was sordid, Mark told himself. Whip, whip, whip . What he was imagining was even more sordid. Whip, whip, whip. He felt sinful and wicked for having such sordid thoughts … Whip, whip, whip  … And that made him masturbate all the harder, guilt and lust swelling his cock. Whip, whip, whip.

He had to rid himself of his guilt. Whip, whip, whip . Mistress Lauren, the cruel dominatrix in the film, would force it out of him, beat it out of him. Whip, whip, whip.

Mark could feel lust and shame rushing through him now, tight and urgent, as he jerked more forcefully at his hard cock. Then the evidence of his shame burst out of his shaft in a warm rain of sinful semen that splattered down in abundance to anoint his naked thighs.