The Tools of Marina’s Submission: A Wicked Daddy-Inspired Story

Plugs from WDAHello all!

For those of you who read my last Wicked Daddy-inspired story, you’ll know I’m a huge fan of his mission and that his products tend to, ahem, get the creative juices flowing. šŸ˜‰ After trying out yet another of the multiple items I purchased from the Wicked Daddy Academy site—the Solid Core Heavy Metal Anal Plug Set—I had to put pen to paper and capture all the kinky goodness! I’d dabbled a bit with these kinds of toys before, but the balanced weight and attention to detail on these bad boys is next level. I mean…whoa.

Wicked Daddy has decided he likes my stories and will continue to offer a freebie to my readers as a token of his appreciation! Aren’t we the lucky ones?? If you visit his site and decide to buy something, when you get to the Shopping Cart section, you’ll find a “Special Instructions for Seller” box. Write “JayeEliseWrites” there and you’ll receive one of Wicked Daddy Academy’s Glass Rods (#1) for FREE—he’s even covering the additional shipping for the rod! Thanks as always, WD, for your generosity!

The story below was inspired by the toys themselves, and by all the folks out there who might not be able to be with the special person in their life whenever they’d like. So, whether you consider yourself a kinkster through and through, or if you simply enjoy the pleasure of having your partner feel your presence from a distance, this story is dedicated to you. šŸ™‚

And now, for your (reading) pleasure, I give you “The Tools of Marina’s Submission”…enjoy! šŸ˜‰


Plugs Pic

(Model: http://www.araxielangley.tumblr.com)

By all measures, it had been a rough week. Her car had broken down on the way to work and she’d missed a crucial meeting with the owners of the club, setting back her negotiation for a raise by weeks. Her favorite pair of heels—the ones she’d splurged on while in Milan—had been destroyed in a freak rainstorm. And the extra couple glasses of wine she’d indulged in to get through the week’s drudgery had given her a hangover worthy of a college kid on Spring Break.

Yeah, it had been a rough week.

But when she finally got home in the early dawn hours Saturday morning and grabbed her mail from the box, a curiously heavy, nondescript package awaited her. And although she didn’t recognize the return address, a knowing smile crossed her lips. She knew exactly where it had come from.

Sir.

Although she was a no-nonsense manager of Seattle’s hottest punk club in her day-to-day life, Marina found herself at her most comfortable when she could let herself go, when she could submit to his will, when she could surrender her decisions to the man who understood her better than anyone.

And he’d promised her a surprise.

She’d never met him in person and only knew him as ā€œKā€, yet for the past three months, he’d plumbed the depths of Marina’s submission and had revealed within her a seemingly endless source of strength, courage, and curiosity. They’d met online, and through a carefully crafted series of rules, text messages, e-mails, and regular phone contact, Marina had come alive under his tutelage.

The dense white box now tucked between her palms formed part of his plan for her.

Letting herself into her small, immaculate condo, she set her things on the sideboard next to the door before removing every last article of clothing she wore. It was part of the protocol he’d established for her—no clothes in the house under any circumstances. While challenging at first, Marina had grown accustomed to the feel of her skin across the various surfaces in her home. A soft, fleecy blanket to cuddle on the couch. The light constriction and crinkling of her nipples as the air conditioning kicked on. The cool granite edge of the counter top pressing against her tummy as she washed dishes. Each new sensation became a revelation for her, reinforcing K’s mastery of her body and soul.

After gathering her clothes and the box and making her way to her bedroom, she fired up her laptop to see K’s instructions for the day. As expected, only one e-mail awaited her in her personal account, and it was from him.

Welcome home, Marina, and happy Saturday. Based on our conversations from earlier this week, I’m inclined to believe you’ve been looking forward to this weekend more than you normally would. Trust me when I tell you that I have too, my good girl. Ā 

You should have received a package today. I want you to open it, explore the contents, and call me immediately after you do.

Yours as you are Mine,

—K

Marina obeyed his orders as she always did, using a pair of nail scissors to help her slice open the tape on the box. Within the folds of pretty paper, she found three black velvety pouches, each one larger than the next. When she loosened the drawstring on the smallest pouch, a glimmer caught her eye as she deposited the heavy, bejeweled plug into her hand.

The sheer density of the pretty little toy caught her off guard. How could something so tiny, so fetching, weigh so much? And as she opened each subsequent baggie, the plugs grew in size. The last one, though not overly large, must have weighed a full pound.

Her sex and snug little rear clenched in sync with one another—the former because of the knowledge of what K intended to do with the plugs, the latter due to her relative inexperience with anal play. She bit her bottom lip as she considered the three plugs resting in her hands, gifts from the man to whom she owed a call.

Picking up the phone, she dialed her Dom as ordered, imagining him awaiting her call in his home office, bare-chested and clad only in his work slacks.

ā€œHello, my good girl. How do you like the present I sent?ā€ His voice smooth and supportive, encouraging her to open herself up to him. In every sense of the words.

ā€œHello, Sir. I l-love them… I mean, um, they’re beautiful and I love that you think I’m ready for these.ā€ Normally composed and confident, she secretly relished K’s ability to render her vulnerable.

ā€œYou’re ready. And, in fact, you’re going to start your plug training right now, my girl.ā€ The breath hitched in her throat, her bottom clenching yet again. ā€œPut the phone down, lubricate the smallest of the three, then get back on the phone so I can insert it for you.ā€

She followed his instructions, feeling her pussy weep in anticipation of his command of her body, and quickly snagged the phone, putting it on speaker, as she hopped back on the bed.

ā€œI’m here, Sir. Please…please put my plug in for me.ā€ Marina’s sotto voce plea surged from a place of longing and need she hadn’t known before meeting K. She was his to command and she obeyed implicitly.

ā€œThat’s my good girl,ā€ he hissed through his teeth, clearly aroused at his beautiful submissive’s ready compliance. ā€œYour hands are now my hands, Marina,ā€ he explained. ā€œKneel on the bed, take the plug in my hand, spread your cheeks, and press it against your bottom hole.ā€

ā€œYes, Sir.ā€ Imagining his deft fingers parting her rear, Marina reached around, held herself open, and nudged the heavy tip of the plug against her, the chilled metal and K’s implicit dominance eliciting a full body shudder from her.

ā€œNow,ā€ his voice called to her in her semi-darkened bedroom, ā€œuse light strokes to slowly stretch yourself, pumping gently, before fully seating it in that gorgeous ass of yours.ā€

The pure eroticism of his words emboldened her and, imagining his hands taking control of her body, she did as he commanded. After a minute or so and with a slight pinch and a low moan, her tight ring swallowed the petite, impactful plug and the jeweled end was all that remained visible, her vanity mirror providing an excellent view of her exposed bottom.

ā€œIt’s in, Sir,ā€ she moaned, rubbing her legs together while tapping on the base of the plug with her—no, his—fingers. The weight of the toy caressed her from the inside, both unsettling and comforting her.

ā€œWhat a good girl. I’m so proud of you,ā€ he cooed, as she looked over at the opened box and eyed the other two toys remaining there. ā€œYou’re going to wear that for me the rest of the weekend—only taking it out for bathroom needs and bathing—then it goes straight back in. Understood?ā€

ā€œYes, Sir.ā€

ā€œOnce we see how you’ve adapted, I’ll decide how long you’ll be wearing it during the week.ā€ She couldn’t stifle the low moan from deep in her chest as she considered and clenched around the delectable toy now tucked safely inside her. ā€œAnd make no mistake, Marina. These plugs aren’t training your ass to take me. I’ve got other tools at my disposal for that,ā€ he chuckled softly. ā€œNo, these plugs are to remind you of who owns that ass, of who you submit to, of the nature of our relationship.ā€

Marina wished she could find the words to thank him for his dedication, for his devoted attention to her and her submission, but she was still working on accommodating the plug, suckling on it with her tight rim and exploring the sensations and emotions coursing through her.

Weighty, yet floating. Pleasantly full. Aroused. Clit pulsing. Submissive.

ā€œAnd each week, I’m going to fit you with the next size, until you’re able to withstand days on end with that solid pound of plug inside you.ā€

ā€œButā€¦ā€ Marina was unable to silence herself before the beginning of a rebuke surfaced.

ā€œBut what, Marina?ā€ His voice carried an edge to it. A patient edge, but an edge nonetheless.

ā€œSorry, Sir…it’s just…it’s just I don’t know if I’ll be able to get the large plug in by myself.ā€ She couldn’t keep the note of defeat out of her voice, but he expected honesty from her in all things. And this situation was no exception.

ā€œMhm,ā€ he murmured, ā€œI understand your concerns, and had some thoughts about that. So, I’ve got a flight to Seattle reserved for two weeks from now. If you can be my good girl and wear your plugs for me as I’ve instructed, how would you feel if I were to come out and put in the large one for you?ā€

In the tenure of their time together, and with her snug little passage clutching the tangible reminder of his dominance, Marina couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more like his. And those were the best words she’d ever heard from his lips.

ā€œIt sounds wonderful, Sir,ā€ she whispered, a tear welling in the corner of her eye. ā€œAnd I’ll be your good girl.ā€

ā€œI know you will, baby. Now and always. I’ll see you in two weeksā€¦ā€

A Nice, Naughty Massage for You…

Massage

I thought you all might like a nice massage to help get you through the end of the week, so I started digging through some of the first material I ever wrote (never published) and found this little scene I’d like to share with you. šŸ™‚ (And please be gentle! This is unedited, raw footage, folks!)

To give you a little background on the story and this scene, Marcus is a Dominant and has agreed to take on and train feisty graduate student Jade as a submissive in order to help her gain a better understanding of the D/s lifestyle. At this stage of the game, he’s got her face-down, loosely bound to a padded table, and he’s intent on opening her eyes to the possibilities of what pleasure can really mean…


I detect a light scent of coconut before his oiled hands make contact with my shoulders and neck. He melts into my body, skillfully manipulating each muscle and drawing soft whimpers of pleasure from my parted lips.

ā€œReceiving pleasure, just like receiving pain,” he explains, “is a delicate balance. Part of you needs to remain in touch with the source and the placement of the stimulus, while the other part of you needs to relinquish conscious thought and simply absorb pure sensation. It’s a balance of mindfulness and unconsciousness.ā€

ā€œI’m not sure I understand, Sir,ā€ I manage to mumble through the unmitigated bliss.

ā€œOkay, so right now, you can feel my fingers working their way across your body. Each pressure point is registering on your senses.ā€ He works his thumbs deep into the muscles along my shoulder blades, causing me to sigh wantonly. ā€œNow, without ignoring the sensations I’m eliciting from you, let your mind go and become the pleasure.ā€

I have no idea how in the hell I’m supposed to do what he’s asking, considering how deep and intense the massage is getting. Leaving one hand resting along my spine, he grabs the bottle and drips a little more oil onto my lower back. He slides his hands over the curves of my hips, back up along my vertebrae, and then down my shoulders. The contact is heavenly. And distracting beyond all measure.

I’ve never been one for mindfulness or meditation and I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know how to focus on Marcus and the massage while simultaneously surrendering to the pleasure itself. But Christ this feels wonderful…

Is he trying to turn me into some sort of hyper-aroused sex monk or something?

ā€œYou’re overthinking it and tensing up,ā€ he chides me, sensing my internal monologue through the slight flexing of my muscles. ā€œDon’t worry so much—we’ll work on it. For now, just enjoy the massage.ā€

Now this I can handle.

After a few more minutes of work on my back, he hops off the side of the table, grabbing the bottle of oil as he goes. Pouring a little more into his hands, he proceeds to massage my extremities, starting with both arms from shoulders to fingertips. Then he moves on to my legs from hips to toes. Lastly, he works on my lower back and my plump rear end. Using just a bit more oil, he kneads my rear end with firm, sensuous strokes. I would probably be more self-conscious about him being near my rear entrance and exposed pussy if I actually gave a damn about anything besides his skilled hands at this point in time. Every single touch feels like heaven.

Alternating between deep squeezes and gentle caresses, he works my backside over more than thoroughly for a good five minutes. And then, without warning, his hands are gone.

I’m too relaxed and pliable to move a muscle, but I perceive unadulterated absence without his hands touching my body. While certainly not painful, it’s the antithesis of pleasure. I want him back but am unable to verbally form the request in the midst of the hedonistic haze that’s clouded my mind.

Just when I’ve convinced myself that he’s left me here to relax and to contemplate the finer points of pleasure, he’s with me again…in a most unexpected way. Without making contact with the rest of my body, he stealthily yet firmly dips two fingers into my pussy.

And I finally understand what he’s been trying to tell me about being present while surrendering to the pleasure.

My whole body trembles uncontrollably, pulling up from the padded table, and a blast of endorphins bombards my system, flooding me with warmth and pleasure. Although his fingers are only contacting one very specific part of my anatomy, every inch of my skin senses the lingering electricity of his touch, the echo of his deep massage. He remains perfectly still inside me, but I can feel myself convulsing around him, tremors racking my restrained body. My breathing becomes uneven. It doesn’t hurt, but the second he starts pumping his fingers inside of me, I release a deep, guttural moan, manifesting my inability to grapple with what I’m feeling.

He presses a third finger into my tight wetness and I perceive an immediate change. My body stills and falls to the table. My mind becomes a flash of white that soon envelops me, while my hands flex and clench at nothingness and my toes curl upon themselves.

I can feel his fingers inside of me, working their way into my depths, but it’s a sensation of being soothed, caressed, quieted, and aroused at the same time. My breathing becomes regular again.

And I’m floating.


I hope you all enjoyed your massage… šŸ˜‰

Book Release Day!

Cover - SmallWell, for the third time this year, I’ve been published! My newest title isĀ Mastering His Captive, and I’m thankful, as always, to Stormy Night Publications for helping to make it a reality. My first book,Ā Doctor’s Orders, explores medical fetish within the D/s spectrum, and my second,Ā Under Daddy’s Roof, is a tale of domestic discipline. ButĀ Mastering His CaptiveĀ is a slightly darker story with heavy D/s themes, some devious punishments and twists, and a reminder that the happiest of endings can bloom from the least conventional beginnings.

In other words, I think you’re gonna like it. šŸ˜‰

Here’s a quick blurb to introduce you to Kit and Vaughn, a couple of the sexiest protagonists I’ve ever penned! And, of course, if you’d like to pick up a copy of Mastering His Captive, just click here!


Erotic romance novelist Kit Alexander is in a slump. Each new book seems more difficult to complete than the last, and the spark in her writing seems to be gone. But her life is changed forever when she goes on a camping trip to reconnect with her muse and ends up being kidnapped and brought to an isolated cabin by a dedicated fan set on helping her in his own way.

Vaughn is a former Green Beret used to taking charge, and when his favorite author needs to rekindle her passion he makes it his business to teach her what it means to be thoroughly mastered. Kit quickly discovers that being stripped bare and spanked soundly is very different in real life than in her stories, but in spite of everything Vaughn’s stern correction leaves her deeply aroused. When she defies her captor, however, Kit learns the hard way that there are punishments far more humiliating than a mere bare-bottom spanking.

With each passing day Kit finds herself surrendering ever more completely to Vaughn’s bold, practiced dominance, and when he claims her it is more pleasurable than she would have ever imagined. As her next book begins to take shape under his strict guidance, she knows it is the best she’s ever written. But when it is finished at last, will it mean the end of her relationship with the man who inspired it?

Publisher’s Note: Mastering His Captive includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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