The Denim Dom

Chapter Eighteen

Shayla awoke from a sleep of the dead a little after three o’clock Sunday afternoon. When she rolled over, she groaned at the aches in her muscles. When she sat up, her bruised ass caught her attention.

She also felt a not-unpleasant ache in her pussy from where Tony had used the vibrator on her.

Wow. If last night was even a fraction of what other submissives felt on a regular basis, she could easily understand why they did it. Hell, she’d readily volunteer to do that again anytime.

As long as it was with Tony.

She still wasn’t sure she could wrap her mind around why the heavy masochists did what they did, but Tony had clearly driven home the point that not all pain was painful…some of it was damn pleasurable.

And subspace was a blessed place to escape from reality.

With another groan she stood and headed to the bathroom. When she walked in she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The leather collar was still buckled around her neck.

I forgot to take it off.

Then she stopped that thought. No, she hadn’t forgotten. Tony had instructed her to wear it at home unless she needed to take a shower or go out for errands. Her fingers stroked the leather, remembering how it felt the night before when he’d hooked a finger through the D-ring on the front and pulled her head up so he could look into her eyes.

A hot flush ran through her body. She’d had the best orgasms of her life last night, in front of a room full of mostly strangers, with a man she barely knew who hadn’t even taken off his clothes.

Wow.

She knew she’d do it again in a heartbeat, and not for any story, either.

She’d loved it.

Turning, she looked at her ass in the mirror. Instead of chiding herself for her weight, she marveled at the marks there. The imprint of a riding crop was clearly visible in several places, as were his handprints, and several stripy cane marks. She imagined the round, isolated marks were from the wicked silicone spoon. The marks ranged in color from pinkish red to beautiful shades of purple and blue.

A smile curled her lips.

She ran her fingers over the welts and remembered how he had skillfully mixed pain and pleasure, taking her up the scale to a point where she’d thought she’d have to code before he applied the pleasure of the vibrator.

By the time he’d finished with her, she knew she wouldn’t safeword unless he absolutely didn’t stop the pain. The reward for holding out each time was too great.

Snickering, she remembered his playful warning to her the other night in the restaurant, of how easy it was to rewire a brain to scramble pain and pleasure together.

He got that right.

She finally used the bathroom and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. As it brewed, she had a thought and retrieved her cell phone.

Good morning, Sir, she texted him.

She was curled on the couch with her coffee and her laptop ten minutes later when he replied. Good morning, pet. How’s the ass?

She giggled. Pleasantly sore, Sir.

Still wearing your collar?

She’d pulled on a T-shirt, but yes, the collar was still buckled around her neck. Yes, Sir.

Good girl. I just woke up. I want you to meet Me here at My house at five. I’m cooking dinner.

Her heart raced. It wasn’t like she had anything else better to do.

Yes, Sir.

After a few minutes, his reply. :) Good girl. Wear your collar.

Another thrill ran through her. Would she ever get sick of that feeling?

Probably not. Not anytime soon, at least. Yes, Sir, she texted back.

She caught up on her e-mail and was heading back to the kitchen for her second cup of coffee when her cell phone rang. Part of her hoped it was Tony, but her throat dried when she saw it was her parents’ home line.

“Hello?”

Mom. “Well, glad to see you’re alive.”

Shayla cringed. “Sorry I haven’t called lately. I’ve been busy.”

“Busy doing what? You haven’t even updated your Facebook status in a week.”

That was true, although she had commented on some friends’ pictures. “I’ve just got a lot going on. Work, friends—”

“Friends? So tell me about your new friends.”

Shayla felt the blush coloring her cheeks even though she wasn’t face-to-face with her mom. “Just some really nice people I met while working on a story. They’ve…sort of adopted me.”

“James called us yesterday.”

Out of the blue, Shayla’s heart sank. Her good mood faded. “What the hell did he want?” she snapped.

She could tell from her mother’s tone she wasn’t happy about receiving the call, either. “He was asking about you. If we’d heard from you.”

“So that’s why you called me? Great. Thanks.”

“No, but I did want to talk to you and make sure you were doing all right.”

“I’m fine. What else did he want?”

“He told me he’s paying you back.”

“He sent me a check for five hundred last week, yes. I won’t say he’s paying me back until he’s completely paid me back in full. Considering his craptacular track record in keeping promises I won’t hold my breath. What did you tell him about me?”

“I chewed him out for trying to use us to get information about you. That if he wanted to talk to you, he needed to talk to you himself.”

Her heart soared that her mom was still taking her side. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“That much I figured. I wouldn’t want to talk to him, either, if I were in your shoes.” She sighed. “I just wish you hadn’t up and moved so suddenly. I’m worried about you.”

Shayla looked around her apartment. “Mom, honestly? I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve been in a long time. It’s cheaper living down here than up there. I’ll be okay.”

“Your father was talking about taking a weekend to come down and visit you.”

“And check up on me?” She smiled despite her tone.

Her mom laughed. “Yes, of course. He’s worried, too.”

“I don’t have a big apartment, Mom. You guys would have to stay at a hotel.”

“I know. You know your father. He won’t take a vacation, but a chance to check up on his little girl, he’ll jump at that. He didn’t worry as much when you lived in the same city as your brother.”

Shayla reached up to scratch at her throat and remembered the collar. She blushed despite her mom not being able to see her.

Thank god we don’t Skype! “I’ll look around and find a couple of good hotels to choose from. Summer’s their slow time down here.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” She paused. “You’re really okay?”

“I’m really okay, Mom. Honestly. I’m done keeping secrets.” Well, okay, except about getting my ass beaten last night. They damn sure don’t need to know about that. “I wish I had told you guys what James did the first time.”

“Quit beating yourself up over it.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying, but I don’t seem to be able to do it.”

She didn’t have any trouble following the directions Tony e-mailed her.

Along with his address and how to get to his house, he’d included two instructions.

No panties, and to wear a sundress or skirt.

Both instructions had left her clit throbbing and her pussy wet.

He lived off Bee Ridge Road, east of I-75. He lived in a community of large homes situated on even larger pieces of land, most of them several acres each, and many of which held grazing cattle or horses. He met her at the front door.

“Looks like you found it all right, pet,” he said, his gaze traveling to her collar before meeting her eyes.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Come in.” As she stepped through the door, he rested his hand on the back of her neck, on the collar. Not roughly, but firmly.

Authoritatively.

Possessively.

He shut the door and led her into the house. Tastefully decorated, it didn’t look like a Dom lived there, if she had to guess. And something smelled delicious.

“Let me give you the tour,” he said, his hand never leaving the collar as he showed her throughout the house.

Four bedrooms, three and a half baths. Huge eat-in kitchen, with separate dining and family rooms. A home office. Tile throughout, with gorgeous throw rugs scattered here and there.

If she had to venture a guess, the house alone was probably worth over half a mil.

He saved the best for last, leading her through the kitchen, through a utility room, to a door locked with an electronic combination lock. “The playroom.”

He punched a four-digit code into the lock. It let out a beep and he led her into what turned out to be his personal dungeon. It held a St. Andrew’s Cross, two different spanking benches in different styles, a suspension bar similar to the one at the club, and racks of implements, among other things.

He pointed at another door. “That just leads out to the rest of the garage. I used to have a classroom area in there, but after Kaden died, Seth and I both lost the heart to teach here. Too many memories, for me at least, of Kaden. That, and frankly, liability. It’s easier for us to teach at the club.” He turned to her. “What do you think, pet?”

She knew her racing heart had nothing to do with fear. “It’s very nice, Sir.”

He chuckled. “Turn around and show me your marks, pet.”

She turned and hiked up the skirt of her sundress. She didn’t move when his hand caressed her flesh. “Very nice. What do you think? Too much?”

She shook her head, her cheeks burning. “Not too much, Sir.”

“Keep that skirt up.” He gently pulled her glasses off and put them on a shelf. Then he took hold of the back of her collar and led her over to one of the spanking benches. He pushed her down and over it, her ass exposed. “I really enjoyed spanking your ass last night, pet. So another rule is that when we’re together, I will be giving you a greeting spanking. As long as we’re not in public, of course.”

Her throat felt like it might close up from the rush of moisture that had fled her mouth for her cunt. “Yes, Sir,” she squeaked.

He chuckled. “Good girl.” He wasted no time, holding her pinned by the collar as he spanked her hard and fast. She didn’t bother keeping track of the strokes and he didn’t seem to mind her crying out as he stepped up the spanking. Then he stopped, his hand soothing her ass. “Such a good girl,” he softly cooed. “I’m very proud of you for taking that, pet.”

She didn’t move, could barely breathe. She knew she’d let him beat her all night long to keep feeling like this, to keep hearing that tone of voice from him.

Is this subspace again? If it was, she never wanted it to end.

His hand stopped in the center of her ass, fingers pointing down the seam, almost but not quite brushing her pussy. “Well, pet certainly enjoyed that.”

Her face couldn’t get any hotter, could it? “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

He chuckled. Then one finger probed between her labia, easily slipping inside her. “Oh, pet is very, very wet. I have something I think you’ll enjoy.”

She couldn’t suppress her disappointed groan when he removed her hand.

He patted her ass. “Don’t worry. You stay right here. Do not move a muscle.”

She froze as he released her. She didn’t move her head to look but could hear him open a cabinet and rummage around for something. He softly hummed while he searched for what he wanted before returning a moment later.

“Don’t move, pet.” He belted something around her waist and cinched it snug. More straps encircled her upper thighs, and the last went between her legs. Before he buckled the last strap, however, he inserted something into her pussy. Something large and round. She moaned as he slowly worked it back and forth between her labia, coating it with her juices before fucking it into her a little at a time.

Then he pushed it all the way inside her. She felt her body greedily suck it into her cunt. He secured the last strap, which rubbed against her clit and didn’t help her situation.

Walking around in front of her, he knelt so they were eye to eye. He held up a small remote control. “You don’t come unless I give you permission. If you come without permission, it’s five hard and painful strokes with this.” He held up a rattan cane in his other hand. “Understand, pet?”

She nodded, a little fearfully now.

He must have sensed it, because his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Either way, it’s win-win for us both. The sadist in me is thrilled, and the masochist wanting to come out in you will be happy.”

Then he thumbed a button on the remote. She jumped as what turned out to be a vibrating egg sprang to life inside her. She whimpered and thrust her hips uncontrollably as he played with the settings, working it back and forth from high to low, different pulsation patterns, until he settled on one he was happy with. “That should be just uncomfortable enough to keep you distracted, pet,” he said as he stood. He put the remote in his pocket and held out a hand to help her up.

On shaky legs, she stood. Her skirt fell down.

He chuckled. “Okay, pet. I think the dress needs to go. Don’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Her arms trembled as she struggled to pull it over her head while the deviously evil egg continued throbbing inside her.

Fuck.

She also realized she didn’t care if coming without permission earned her strokes.

Although she did want to obey him.

He took the dress from her and hung it over the back of a chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Shoes off, too, pet.”

She had to hold on to him for support as she removed one sandal, then the other.

When she was naked, except for her collar and the harness keeping the egg from sliding out of her pussy, he hooked a finger through the front ring of her collar and pulled her close. “How’s my pet?”

“Green, Sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl.” He kissed her forehead.

“Sir?”

“Yes, pet?”

She belatedly realized her question sounded silly. “Why haven’t you kissed me on the lips yet?”

He cocked his head a little to the side as he met her gaze. When he answered, his voice sounded quiet. “As silly as this might sound,” he gently said, “I consider that a very intimate part of sex. Of making love. Like I told you, I don’t want to be a douche. As your Dominant, unless or until you decide you want to put sex on the table, I won’t do that. I consider what we do, like this, not to be sex. It’s play. Sexual, yes. Sex? No. Making love? No. I don’t even consider oral sex to be the same level of intimacy. Or strap-on play.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and she had to fight to concentrate and keep her eyes open as she nuzzled him. “Kissing,” he continued, “to me, is intimate. It’s saved for when two people have made a commitment to each other. Does that make sense?”

She nodded. It made perfect sense.

It also made her want him to kiss her even more.

He smiled. “How’s my pet?”

“Green, Sir.”

He reached into his pocket and adjusted the egg’s pattern. She let out a moan and struggled not to come as her body finally acclimated to it.

He grinned. “That’s my good girl.”

He released her collar and pointed to the floor. “Greeting, pet.”

She slowly sank to her knees, trying to angle her body in such a way that the despicable egg didn’t press directly on her G-spot and send her spasming into an orgasm. He laughed as he watched her kiss his feet and the backs of his hands, well aware of the discomfort she was in. “Problem, pet?”

“No, Sir.” Somehow, she managed.

And when she nuzzled the front of his jeans, there was no mistaking the iron bulge pressing against the inside of his zipper.

At least I’m not the only one who’s horny.