Page 25

It’s my fantasy

A fter returning to my apartment later that night, I find I’m still flying high over my successful scene with Lord Murray and his violet wand.

I take a quick shower and head straight to bed, hoping to wake up fully rested and ready for my class tomorrow. Just before turning out the light, I check my phone for Gwen’s daily meme.

This time it’s a picture of a humorous street sign that reads:

BDSM

Where no means yes,

yes means harder,

and pineapple means stop.

I snicker when I shoot her a picture of a traffic light. Good one, but in this course it’s more like this… I add the rolling eyes emoji and smile to myself as I set my phone on the nightstand.

Settling under the covers, I sigh happily when I think back on how, at the end of tonight’s session, Headmaster Wallace pulled Beefcake aside to give him a talking-to. It seems nothing escapes the eyes of our headmaster.

I find his protective nature both reassuring and sexy.

Headmaster Wallace makes me feel safe and seen in a way I haven’t felt before, while still demanding the best out of me. It’s an alluring combination.

As desperate as I am for rest, my body is still aroused, making it impossible for me to fall asleep. So, I pull out my favorite vibrator from the drawer and slip it under the cover. Thinking back on the unique stimulation of Lord Murray’s energetic tongue, I position my vibrator with just the right pressure against my clit. What was impossible to do on the stage takes less than a minute, and I cry out joyfully when I climax.

As the week goes on, I learn about the importance of aftercare.

“Once an intense scene ends, many submissives experience sub-drop as the endorphins produced during play begin to dissipate,” Mr. Onassis informs us.

“Aftercare helps with the transition. Something as simple as the act of being held by your Dom can be soothing after a scene. It can also help to strengthen the bond between the two of you, leading to a deeper line of communication.”

I’m terrified by the whole idea of sub-drop and have to grip my pencil tightly to keep my hand from trembling as I write in my notebook.

“Other forms of aftercare include caring for wounds or abrasions caused by an instrument, providing rehydration, a warm blanket, listening to your favorite music, or even talking and laughing together.”

All of that seems incredibly sweet and not what I imagined a Dominant would ever do with their sub. I thought they were all about being strict and not someone I could cuddle with afterward.

To say my mind is blown is an understatement.

While processing this new information, Mr. Onassis surprises me by picking up a black box from behind his desk. He walks down the aisle, handing out leather-bound books at each table.

“I want you to write down a sexual fantasy that arouses you. I suggest something that you’ve fantasized about for years.”

I eagerly take the books he hands me and pass them to my tablemates. The cover of my book is made of soft leather and has a circular symbol divided into three swirling elements I recognize as the BDSM triskele.

When I open up the journal, I see the fancy lined pages have gold on their edges. The journal even has a purple ribbon bookmark sewn into the binding. Looking at my classmates’ books, I notice that every bookmark is a unique color to help differentiate our journals from each other.

Looking down at the lined pages in front of me, I debate over what fantasy to write about.

“Please take one, Miss Lane, and pass the others down.”

I look up and take one of the elegant pens Mr. Onassis hands me and pass the rest along. They are made of red marble and have gold embellishments.

“You will not find a finer writing implement,” he states as he finishes handing them out.

I proudly print my name on the first page under the words embossed in gold,

This Fantasy Journal

is the

Property of

The pen writes like a dream, the ink gliding over the paper effortlessly in a dark, thin line.

“Please include as many details as possible while you write, and be sure to describe your emotions throughout the fantasy. This will provide greater insight into your deeper desires.”

After handing the materials, Mr. Onassis returns to the front of the class.

“To fully embrace your journey into BDSM, it is important to uncover your unspoken needs and underlying motivations. This fantasy journal can help facilitate that.”

Leading by example, Mr. Onassis sits down at his desk and takes out a journal of his own. “You will have thirty minutes for this assignment.”

I notice my classmates are already busy writing in their journals. But I feel intimidated as I stare at the empty pages of my journal. I’ve never put my fantasies down on paper before—with a pen no less!

It feels so permanent and embarrassing to have my naughty thoughts exposed like that.

But when I glance at Michelle sitting next to me, it seems like she can’t write her words down fast enough.

Unwilling to fail this assignment, I pick up my pen. I throw caution to the wind and let my imagination run wild.

Panic sets in knowing I’m lost as I trudge through the forest in the middle of a freak snowstorm. Nothing seems familiar to me, even though I’ve lived here all of my life and know this forest like the back of my hand.

The winds are so fierce that I can barely see ahead of me, and have no idea if I’ve been walking in circles this entire time.

“Help!” I cry out, even though I’m alone and no one can hear me.

The wind howls loudly in response as if it’s mocking me.

I feel a surge of hope when I catch a glimpse of what looks like the hazy form of a person in the driving snow to the left of me. I shout out to them and turn to face the wind as I head in that direction.

My eyes tear up from the snow pelting my face, and I hastily swipe my freezing tears away. When I look up again, the person vanishes before my eyes and shows up on my right, but farther away.

A different type of chill courses down my spine. My grandmother told me tales of the mysterious spirits who inhabit the forest, but I never dreamed they were real.

Whoever—or whatever—it is keeps reappearing as I forge ahead in the raging storm. I trip over a rock covered by snow and crash to the ground. Stunned, I don’t have the strength to get up again, and lie there shivering in defeat as the snow whips around me.

Resigned to my fate, I relax and rest my head in the snow.

That’s when I notice the glow of a fire burning inside a dense thicket of trees some distance ahead. Driven by the promise of warmth, I force my frozen limbs to move and get back on my feet. Slowly, I head toward the welcoming light.

Weaving my way through a ring of dense trees, I come to an open area in the middle of the thicket. I suck in a sharp breath when I see a man wearing a verdant green cloak standing beside glowing flames.

The unnatural fire burns without wood to feed it.

Terrified, goosebumps rise on my skin as I study the person before me. He’s too beautiful for this world, and his eyes are the color of midnight. I swallow hard, certain I stand in the presence of an otherworldly being.

“Come,” he states, gesturing to the fire. His voice has a rich undertone that stirs something deep in my soul.

“What…do you…want?” I demand through chattering teeth, frightened by the magnetic pull of his presence.

Instead of answering my question, he commands, “Come and warm yourself by the fire.”

The instinct to survive outweighs everything else, and I creep close to the magical flames, mesmerized by them.

“Drink this.”

I look up to see he’s holding a wooden cup out to me with steam pouring off it. When I hesitate to take it from him, he replies, “No need to fear me. I would have let you die if I meant harm.”

I accept the warm cup from him and take a small sip of the loamy brew. “Who are you?”

“Kaelith”

His name has an ethereal sound to it. I’m hesitant to ask what he is, fearful he might disappear if I speak the question out loud. “Thank you…for saving me.”

He nods.

As I continue to drink the warm liquid, he tells me, “I have watched you for many years.”

My heart skips a beat, and I look up at him. “Why?”

With kingly authority, he states, “This is my forest.” His eyes glow with a dangerous light when he adds, “The flora and fauna are under my protection.”

“Including me?”

He shakes his head slowly. “No. Humans are not under my domain.”

I shake uncontrollably after hearing his claim, and nearly drop the drink clutched in my hands. He moves with unearthly speed and catches the cup with one hand, while tightly wrapping his other arm around me.

Kaelith smells of earth and wood. When I look into his midnight eyes, the world seems to fall away.

“These wet clothes will kill you,” he snarls, stripping them off and wrapping me in his protective cloak. I press my naked body against him, desperate for his warmth.

Laying my cheek against his chest, I don’t hear the beat of a human heart. Instead, what I hear reminds me of the wind rustling through the trees.

I sigh, soothed by that sound, but I am also acutely aware of the arousing energy passing between us. When I glance up to look at his face, my gaze automatically lands on his full lips.

I don’t know if I’m delirious from the cold, but I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to press my lips against his.

“Kiss me,” I whisper.

“It is forbidden.”

“Please,” I beg, fearful that he will deny me.

Kaelith lifts me up in his powerful arms so I can meet his gaze, and I stare into his eyes in silence. Mesmerized by the burning desire I see in his dark gaze, I wrap my arms behind his head and smash my lips against his.

The current of sexual energy rises to dangerous levels. I feel as if I might be consumed by my desire if I don’t find release. While he continues to hold me, I sneak my hand down to untie the band at his waist and hear him groan as my fingers graze his hard shaft.

Knowing what I need, I wrap my legs around his broad waist as he clutches my ass in his powerful hands. As he lifts me even higher, I guide his thick cock into my willing pussy, and he begins to thrust.

I cry out in pleasure and discomfort as he lifts me up and down on his shaft, forcing my body to take his entirety.

Giving in to my passion, I throw my head back and stare upward. I’m surprised to see a circle of clear sky directly above us. The stars twinkle from above while ominous clouds swirl around, but the storm is unable to break through as we give in to our forbidden need for each other.

I close my book with just seconds to spare before the class bell sounds.

“Place your journals on my desk on your way out.”

I stare at Mr. Onassis in horror. I never would have been so open with my kinky fantasy if I knew someone else would be reading it. None of my other classmates seem to be fazed by the revelation as they stack their journals on his desk on their way out.

I’m the last one to leave his class and reluctantly set my journal on top of the others.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Mr. Onassis asks me.

I feel a loud thudding in my ears as I get ready to voice my concern…but it turns out I’m a chicken at heart. I shake my head and hurry out of the classroom.

As I walk down the hall to join the others, I glance back at the classroom door, worried about how he will see me after he reads my journal.