An Unexpected Master...

Part 1 of a BDSM, erotic short story. Contains explicit sexual content.

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“This new guy in pilates today was so hot. You missed out, Alex,” Melissa’s voice announced into my phone.

“I told you, no guys. At least not for a while,” I responded.

“Why not? If you’re taking the summer off work, why not get a boy toy? You’ll have plenty of time, and everyone needs a rebound after a bad divorce.”

“You know, for a neurosurgeon you give really shitty advice.”

“Yeah I sew people’s brains up, doesn’t make me a fucking life coach. Anyways, you’re thirty-one and a total babe, Alex. I don’t see why you insist on being a nun for the next three months.”

At her words, I let out a small laugh. “I’m taking the summer off to clear my head, not get tangled up in a relationship. Rebound or not.”

“Whatever you say, prude,” Melissa teased. “Anyways, you coming tonight?”

“Who’s this friend of yours again?”

“I was his resident at Colombia. He’s moving to Italy for the rest of the year, and this is his going away party.”

“I feel like it’s kind of odd going to someone’s going away party that you’ve never met.”

“No, he won’t mind. He’s a really cool guy. Besides, I told him you might tag along with me.”

“Why do I get the feeling you want me there just so you have someone to talk to?”

“Would you want to spend an entire evening alone surrounded by doctors? We’re not known for our senses of humor, trust me. Grant will probably be the only entertaining one there, but I’m sure he’ll be busy talking with people the whole time.”

“Fine, I’ll get dressed and come over,” I agreed, reluctance seeping through my tone as I began to run a brush through my unruly, chestnut brown locks. After decorating my bright hazel eyes with a brush of copper eyeshadow and throwing a black wrap dress on, I headed out into the night.

***

Twenty minutes later and Melissa and I were pulling up to Park and 65th together.

“Wow, Upper East Side? Pretty swanky for a doctor,” I observed.

“Well, he’s not just any doctor. He happened to be rated one of the top ten neurosurgeons’ in the country last year.”

Judging from the rare look on Melissa’s face when she spoke of him, I could tell this was someone she truly respected and looked up to. Sheesh, if ‘critical as they come’ Melissa admires him, this must be some pretty special guy...I thought to myself, suddenly curious as to how tonight would go.

“Well, I’ll make sure to be on my best behavior,” I teased with an eye roll as we began our journey inside.

After riding the elevator up to the building’s top floor, we wandered over to a propped open door at the end of the hall and wandered inside. The luxurious apartment before us looked like something from a design magazine. Littered with abstract art, marble floors, and minimalist, yet upscale furnishings, it was the ultimate bachelor pad. Moments upon entering, Melissa began leading me over to someone standing near the long, sleek fireplace. His back to us, all I could distinguish was a pair of incredibly broad shoulders and long legs underneath a perfectly tailored navy suit.

“I made it, Dr. Martin,” Melissa announced with a playful emphasis on his name. I assumed it was a nickname stemmed from her resident days.

“Indeed, you did,” a low, deep voice answered as the man turned around. “You know I would have held it against you forever if you didn’t.”

Holy fuck…I thought to myself as I stood there speechless for a few moments, watching the two engage in friendly banter. A pair of mysterious, onyx colored eyes sat above a straight, Roman nose and a cut-steel jawline. Standing at least six foot two, his frame was even more pronounced due to his narrow waist and broad shoulders. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome if I had ever seen it. And them some.

“And who’s this lovely friend of yours?” I barely heard him ask seconds later, his magnetic gaze set on me.

“I...I’m Alexandria. Alexandria Woods.”

“The photographer?”

“Well I don’t know about ‘the.’ More just like ‘a’ photographer.”

“Okay, miss Vanity Fair. This one is so humble sometimes, it makes me want to puke,” Melissa added with a slight elbow jab to me.

“Well, it’s a pleasure. I’m Grant,” he announced, his eyes still set on me as held out his hand.

As I met his large hand with mine, an excited tingle ran through me as he firmly shook it.

“Can I get you ladies anything to drink?” He asked. “Even though I already know you want a beer, Melissa,” he said with a playfully disapproving expression. “Alexandria, are you a wine drinker?”

“Yeah, I’d love some.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right back.”

I then watched as his tall frame disappeared towards the kitchen.

“Ooh, Alexandria?” Melissa asked once he was out of earshot. “I can’t remember the last time you introduced yourself as that to someone. Looks like someone’s vow of celibacy isn’t going to last as long as she thinks. He was definitely checking you out.”

“Oh, shut up,” I shot back. “He definitely wasn’t, but the least you could have done is told me your friend looked like god’s gift to women, Melissa. I would have actually put some real effort into getting ready.”

“Yeah, you definitely could have worn something more slutty,” she teased as she nudged me with her elbow. “I’ve always seen him as such a mentor figure that I forget him and the effect he has on most women.”

Seeing that Grant was striding back towards us, I began to notice my palms were lightly sweating. What is with you, Alex? I asked myself, halfway amused but also annoyed at my nerves.

Shortly after handing us our drinks, Grant had to go tend to something in the kitchen. Melissa, being the gregarious social butterfly that she is, paraded me around to group after group of people we didn’t know for at least a half hour. Eventually, she ran into someone she knew and was soon immersed in a lively conversation.

Seeing she was going to be awhile, I wandered off through an archway and inside what looked like his office/library. Hanging on one of the walls was a massive painting. Six naked women spanned the entire canvas. Their naked bodies were lined up like sardines, the next person’s feet at the other’s head. Every blemish and imperfection was not only displayed, but accentuated. The sagging of one women’s breasts, another’s protruding rib cage, the pouch of one’s stomach.

I finally looked away from the painting and then took a sharp inhale. Standing at the open doorway was Grant, his intense gaze set on me.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“The reason I have it hanging on the wall is for people to look at,” he corrected, an amused grin tugging at his mouth as he began to walk closer to me.

“It’s a Seville?”

“It is. I’m impressed,” he stated, his eyes shamelessly looking me up and down.

Unable to withstand his resolute gaze any longer without having my cheeks turn bright red, I looked back to the painting.

“The grotesqueness, the pronounced flaws…” I surveyed. “I love how this piece, as well as all of her others, are void of a single ounce of artificial prettiness,” I finished and then back to him. Noticing he had taken another few steps closer to me and was now just a foot or so away, I was suddenly very aware of my breathing.

“Void of ‘prettiness’ as we’re conditioned to know it,” he countered, his low, deep voice delighting my ears. “To me, her work is symbolic of life. The experience of it. To live is to be flawed. That’s what makes them beautiful.”

“I can imagine your work really makes you appreciate life in ways other people don’t.”

“It certainly gives me an appreciation for the simple things, such as socializing and enjoying a glass of wine. As well as all of life’s other pleasures,” he added, his suggestive words and the silent intensity that seemed to be radiating from him leaving me speechless. His eyes then glanced to wrist and then back up to me, an approving expression on his face and his slightly narrowed gaze exuding what felt like pure sex.

Oh fuck, my tattoo…. I suddenly realized, quickly switching my wine glass to my other hand and covering up the word ‘cravate’ that sat in tiny cursive letters on my wrist. He must speak French....I thought to myself in amusement, halfway embarrassed that he noticed it but also now full of a simmering excitement. Or maybe he doesn’t speak French at all. Maybe he knows what it means because...

“Grant, are you in there? Gabby and I want to say goodbye before we leave,” a voice called out into the office, breaking our heavy silence.

“Looks like I have to go attend to my host responsibilities. You can stay here and enjoy the paintings as long as you like, though,” he said before taking his leave.

After admiring a painting on the opposing wall for a few moments, I then made my way back to the living room. Seeing Melissa was with another group now, I joined her and began socializing.

Every now and then I would sneak glances at Grant from across the room. Surveying him, I began imagining him without his suit. How tempting his long legs and toned chest would look draped just in a sheet. Or how his hard frame he would look above me as he forced my open mouth onto his cock, my hands bound behind my back. Fuck, I wanted him. Between my cheating, recently-divorced-from ex-husband and being overloaded at work, I hadn't experienced raw, unadulterated lust like this in so long. I had forgotten how incredibly euphoric it felt.

“Oh my god, Grant hasn’t been able to stop stealing glances at you the whole night,” Melissa interrupted my x-rated thoughts as we walked away from a group of people and claimed a spot by the fireplace.

“You’re lying. Besides, I’m positive a guy like him has beautiful women constantly throwing themselves at him.”

“Oh, he does,” she admitted with a small laugh, “but you must have said something to him. I’ve never seen him act like this.”

Yeah, something indeed...I thought to myself with a secret laugh, wondering how long he had been a Dom for. Well, if he's a Dom, that is. He might be submissive, or even just a bottom. Or maybe he's neither, which is most likely. He probably just found it amusing that I have such a ridiculously inappropriate word tattooed on me and thinks I'm a complete weirdo...I reasoned, though I couldn't forget the raw, almost lustful approval oozing from his expression upon locking eyes onto my wrist.

“You know-” I started to reply to Melissa.

“Oh, shush,” she cut me off. “He’s walking this way.”

“You ladies having fun so far?” He asked as he joined us.

“Are you?” Melissa asked. “It’s your going away party, after all.”

“I am now,” he replied, his gaze moving from Melissa and then settling on me.

“Where are you moving to in Italy?” I asked him in Italian, hoping my flirting would resonate.

At my question Melissa threw me an 'oh, you're pulling out the big guns' look, her eyebrows dramatically raised.

“And just when I thought she couldn’t possibly get more interesting,” Grant answered back in impeccable Italian, a secret gleam in his dark, mysterious eyes. “To Florence,” he finished in English for Melissa to understand.

“I’m going to get another drink. You guys want anything?” Melissa asked, though I had a strong feeling she wasn’t coming back.

After letting her know we were okay for now, she then scurried off to the kitchen.

“My favorite city in Italy,” I said with an approving grin. “I was an Italian minor in college and lived there for a few years afterwards. And I promise I’m not as interesting as I might appear to be.”

“Any woman who has the word hog-tie tattooed on her wrist certainly counts as interesting in my book,” he stated without an ounce of reservation with a quick glance back towards my wrist.

“Wow, a doctor, exceptional taste in art, and fluent in French.”

Watching Melissa exit the kitchen with another beer, she joined the last remaining group of people instead of coming over to us.

“I’m actually not fluent in French,” he confirmed.

“Ah, I see,” I slowly nodded, suddenly aware of every nerve in my body. My palms were sweating again. He most certainly was a dom. I could feel it in my bones.

“Do you?” He challenged with an arched brow.

With three guests, including Melissa, still here, what the hell did I think was going to happen though? And wasn’t I just swearing off men for the entire summer mere hours ago? Yeah, except this isn’t just any guy. To hell with it, Alex, just go for it and see what happens...my second glass of wine told me. Maybe he'll play along, maybe he won't. Either way, you've got nothing to lose.

“Do you mind showing me to your bathroom, Mr. Martin?” I asked, looking his frame up and down and flashing him a grin as I did so, my boldness surprising even myself.

At my question his onyx eyes slightly narrowed, a look of approval and subtle shock flashing across them.

“It’d be my pleasure,” he answered, his voice low and sensous and his gaze still set on me.

At his words, I felt a warm excitement ecompass me. He knew exactly what I was asking, and he wanted it too. At the realization, I suddenly became aware of my increasing heart rate. I walked past him as calmly as I could manage. As he followed behind me, I could feel his intense gaze nearly cutting my dress in two. I felt as if a jungle predator was following me, though my increased heart rate wasn’t due to fear, but to the raw, overwhelming lust and excitement I was feeling.

“It’s that door on the left,” he instructed from behind me.

I stopped at the halfway open door. I could make out the flickering glow of a candle inside, casting the bathroom in a dim, warm glow.

“Thanks,” I announced, turning around and lingering in front of the doorway for a moment. The smell of gardenia filled my nostrils as I took a breath and waited in anticipation to see what would happen.

Suddenly, his hand firmly grasped my forearm. In an instant, he pulled me into the bathroom with him and locked the door behind us. I quickly spun around on my heel and looked him up and down. Suddenly, his hand was firmly on my throat, the aggressive motion awakening a ravenous hunger deep in my core.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl and do what I say?” He asked.

I simply nodded, unable to get any words out. His assured dominance was already pushing me into my sub-space. His lips then came crashing down on mine, roughly parting them open and claiming my tongue with his. As he continued to torment me, his tongue rhythmically teasing mine, I let out a wanton moan into his mouth. Suddenly, he pulled his lips from mine.

“Get down on your knees,” he commanded.

I did as instructed. The marble was cold and hard, but I was too excited to even notice. He then quickly stripped off his belt and pulled out his hard, imposing cock. Bigger than anyone’s I had ever been with, just looking at it left my pussy throbbing with desire.

Now on eye-level with it, he began to run it all over my face. Feeling it’s undeniable hardness and velvet texture run over my cheeks, my closed eyes, my lips... all I could think of was how amazing it would feel in my mouth. As if he could tell he badly he was teasing me, he suddenly grasped a handful of my hair and pulled me onto it. I let out a deep moan onto his hardness as I took almost his full length inside of my mouth, sucking it from the base all the way to the tip. For several minutes, he continued to fuck my mouth. Lost in my pleasure, I barely heard him utter the words ‘you’re such a good submissive, Alexandria.’ Suddenly, he stopped pulling me onto him and grasped both of my shoulders. Seeing he wanted me to stand back up, I obliged. Meeting his dark gaze with him, I waited in tantalizing anticipation as to what was going to come next.

“Did sucking my cock make you wet?” He asked, though his tone made it sound like a statement more than a question.

I nodded.

“Say it out loud,” he ordered.

“Sucking you made me wet,” I admitted, my voice quiet. I could barely think straight.

“Good. Now get on the counter and spread your pretty legs for me.”

To be continued...

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*Endnote: While practicing BDSM in real life, there should be very clear communication between partners before ANYTHING takes place. For the sake of creativity and fantasy, though, this story doesn’t abide by those rules. Again, it’s a story. In real life, you need to actually talk about what you’re cool with and what you’re not cool with in order to have fun and be safe :)

#erotica #bdsm #shortstory #erotique