Dominance & Submission: Trained for Love

This was one of the second series of stories I wrote early on. In Lydia’s Path, the protagonist was already acquainted with the idea of a Bondage, Domination, Submission, and Masochism relationship; I wanted to explore the stories of newcomers to the scene, to create an “everyman” idea that my reader could place themselves in if they had not encountered this experience before.

Trained for Love was one of the best stories I’ve written so far with several five-star reviews, exploring the question of just how far you’d go to get the man you want. For Sally, she has to convince Brian that she is not the shrinking violet that he takes her to be, and the best way of doing that is to be taken as a slave by one of his close friends…


Excerpt (adult content):

I had never been to Dominic’s apartment before, and did not know what to expect. He buzzes me in over an intercom, telling me to walk straight into his flat, which I do. Inside, it is dimly lit with a polished wooden floor and wood-paneled walls, interspersed with full-length mirrors. When I catch sight of myself as I hang up my coat I am shocked, because while I normally look bookish now I look like a slut. Correction, I look like a hot slut. I really do look sexy like this, I realize.

My heels click on the floor as I step hesitantly into the main living room, which is unlit.

“Stop,” Dominic’s voice speaks from the shadows. I freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Here are the rules: you obey every command without question. You do not baulk, you do not question, and you do not hesitate. To do so is a lack of submission, and shows you do not truly wish to be a slave. Is that understood?” Dominic speaks with finality and authority.

“Yes.” My voice cracks as I nod, then correct myself. “Yes Master.” My research is paying off already.

“Good. Now strip, and kneel.”

My stomach does a flip. My body tingles instantly. It starts in my pussy and jumps like lightning to my nipples, then plays its way across the entire surface of my skin. Nothing save a kiss from Brian has ever made me this turned on this fast.

Very self consciously I reach up to my blouse and unfasten it, and slip it off. Then with some trepidation I unfasten my bra and my perky little breasts are uncovered as I set that aside also. Swallowing hard, I unzip my skirt and push it down over my hips to my ankles, and step out of it. As ordered, I am not wearing panties, and my little bush of curls must stand out in contrast to my pale skin.

“The rest as well,” Dominic orders, as he seems to sense my doubt as to whether I should remove my garter belt and stockings. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and step out of the shoes before removing the garter belt and slipping off my stockings. Then I sink to my knees on the polished wooden floor next to the folded pile of clothing. I am trembling, and not from the cold, I am turned on and my pussy is wet.

“Let your hair down.”

I reach up and self-consciously tug the pins out of my thick bun of hair and shake my head, letting the thick, long locks fall down over my body. It reaches almost to my waist. Few people realize my hair is actually this long.

“Now,” his voice purrs, and footsteps sound as he approaches, stepping into the light wearing black leather jeans, cowboy boots and not much else to show off firm biceps and well-defined abs. He looks cool, confident, utterly self-assured and very much in control, and his jeans have a big bulge in them. “Tell me why you are here, Sally. Tell me what you want from me?”

I swallow hard.

“Sir, I am here to ask you to train me as a slave, so that I can appeal to the man I love to be my owner.” I speak with my heart in my mouth. I have no doubt whatsoever that this is my one shot at this.

“You are aware that I will take control of your life in every way?” He paces around me, examining me like a prize steer.

“Yes Master.”

“That I will require sex from you when and how I specify and that it may not be sex with me?”

“Yes Master,” my stomach flutters and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I was already aware that this training might involve him using me, just as being with Brian might involve Brian giving me to another. All the same, I am weak at the knees now that he is spelling this out. In defiance of my conservative upbringing, my pussy is tingling and shamefully hot and wet at the thought.

“That I will punish you as I see fit for any infraction?”

“Yes Master.” That I was prepared for, and I knew it would likely be very painful when – not if – it happened. If anything, that thought frightened me the most, as I have never had to endure serious pain.

“And you are willing to sign a contract to assure all of this?”

“Yes Master.” My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear him.

“Very well.” He walks behind me and something cool slips around my neck, and then tightens, though not uncomfortably. It is a leather collar.

“Your name, while you are here and when I address you in private, is Slut.”

I feel another rush of blood to my face, as a part of my mind wants to shout: But I’ve always been a good girl! Forget it. I am a good girl no longer. From now on I am to be very, very bad.

“Thank you, Master,” I manage to say.

“Stand up, Slut.”

I rise to my feet as if pulled up by strings like a puppet, my legs seemingly following his orders directly and leaving me helpless. The collar feels strange, perhaps because it is the only thing I am wearing. My head feels light, I am no longer in control, but as well as frightening it feels strangely liberating because what goes on now is no longer my responsibility.

There is a touch to the collar and a click, and I find that he has attached a leash to the collar – my collar – and is already walking away, making me stumble to keep up. My stomach knots up at the horror of being so dehumanized. Worse still, my sex tingles with desire for it.

“You will learn to appreciate the leash, Slut,” he says, without looking back.

“Yes Master…”



Barnes & Noble:


#BDSM #Erotica #Spanking


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