Morgan - Diary of a submissive: a modern true tale of sexual awakening

About the Author

Sophie Morgan is in her early thirties and working hard at a career she loves as a journalist. She spends too much money on books, DVDs, and handbags, mostly in that order. The one thing missing in her life is someone to share it with... and she is still searching for someone to dominate her sexually, as well as help sort the recycling.

A Modern True Tale of Sexual Awakening

Sophie Morgan

GOTHAM BOOKS

GOTHAM BOOKS

Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Published by Gotham Books, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Previously published in Great Britain by Michael Joseph, an imprint of Penguin Books UK, under the same title.

First printing, September 2012

Copyright 2012 by Sophie Morgan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA has been applied for.

ISBN 978-1-101-61165-4

While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers, Internet addresses, and other contact information at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers; however, the story, the experiences, and the words are the authors alone.

Contents

Prologue

Y ou might have slipped outside to take a call on your phone when you first saw us, or, if youre so inclined, have been finishing a crafty cigarette before heading back into the warmth of the bar. Either way, we draw your attention, standing in a gap between the buildings, across the street, and along a little way from where youre standing.

Dont get me wrong, thats not to say Im especially stunning, or that he is. We look like any other couple on a night out, neither unusually dressed nor especially loud, not even remarkable in our unremarkableness. But theres an intensity, something brewing between us that stops you short, making you look in spite of the fact its bloody cold and you were actually getting ready to go back inside and rejoin your friends.

His hand is clenched around my upper arm in a grip so visibly tight even from this distance that you wonder fleetingly if its going to bruise. He has pushed me up against the wall, his other hand tangled in my hair and holding me in place, so when I try and look awayfor help?I cant.

He isnt particularly big or broad; in fact youd probably describe him as nondescript if you were to bother describing him at all. But theres something about him, something about us, that makes you wonder for a minute if everything is all right. I cant take my eyes off him, and the obvious depth of my awe means for a second you cant either. You stare at him intently, trying to see what I see. And then he tugs on my hair, pulling my head closer to his in a sharp movement that makes you instinctively step a bit closer to intervene, before those stories in the papers about good Samaritans meeting sticky ends flood your brain and pull you up short.

Closer now, you can hear him talking to me. Not the full sentencesyou arent that closebut enough words for you to get a sense. For these are evocative words. Vicious words. Ugly words that make you think perhaps you really might have to step in at any moment if this escalates further.

Slut. Whore.

You look at my face, so close to his, and see fury glittering in my eyes. You dont see me speak, because I dont. Im biting my lip, as if Im restraining the urge to respond, but I remain silent. His hand tangles tighter in my hair, and I wince but otherwise I stand there, not passive exactlyyou can feel the effort it is taking for me not to move as if it were a tangible thingbut certainly self-controlled, weathering the verbal onslaught.

Then a pause. He is waiting for a response. You move closer. If someone asked youd say it was to check to see that I was all right, but in your heart you know that actually its curiosity, pure and simple. There is something feral, primal, about the dynamic between us that draws you closer even as it almost repulses you. Almost. You want to know how I am going to respond, what happens next. There is something dark and yet compelling about it that means while normally youd be horrified, instead youre intrigued.

You watch me gulp. I run a tongue along my bottom lip to moisten it before trying to speak. I start a sentence, tail off, eyes flickering down to break from his gaze as I whisper my response.

You cant hear me. But you can hear him. Louder.

Im blushing now. There are tears in my eyes, but you cant tell if they are of anguish or of fury.

My voice is clearer, even loud on the night air. My tone is defiant, yet the flush on my cheeks and running along my collarbone visible under my open jacket betrays an embarrassment I cant hide.

I am a slut, sir. I have been wet all evening thinking about you fucking me, and I would be very grateful if we could go home now and do that. Please.

My defiance cracks by the last word, which comes out as a soft plea.

He runs a finger idly along the edge of my shirtlow cut enough that there is a hint of cleavage, but not exactly sluttyand I shiver. He starts to speak, and the tone of his voice makes you restrain the urge to shiver too.

That almost sounded like begging. Are you begging, slut?

You see me start to nod, but I get pulled up short by his hand in my hair. Instead I swallow quickly, shut my eyes for a second, and answer.

Yes. A pause, turning into lengthening silence. A breath that might almost be a quiet sigh. Sir.

His finger is still running along the curves of my breasts as he speaks.

You look like youd do pretty much anything right now to be able to come. Would you? Do anything?