The Denim Dom

Chapter Twenty

Monday morning, Shayla crawled into the shower after sending Tony a good-morning text and starting her coffeepot. She stood under the hot spray to loosen her aching muscles.

How can pain feel so damn good, and pleasure feel like pain?

Every pang and twinge reminded her of the things that happened to her over the weekend.

She had no idea how to explain it to others, but at least she felt miles closer to understanding it on an instinctive level.

Note to self, never mention to Tony when I’m horny. She had to laugh, because while she’d witnessed forced orgasm play last weekend, she never imagined in her wildest dreams it could feel like…

That.

She also never imagined she’d ever reach a point of pleasure so acute it almost felt like pain.

Hence the term “orgasm torture.” Duh.

When she emerged from the shower, he’d returned her text.

How do you feel, pet? :)

She laughed, knowing that was a loaded question if she ever read one.

Wrung out like a wet dishcloth, Sir.

She was getting dressed when she heard her phone go off again.

:) Good. Can you keep Wednesday open for Me? We’ll do pizza at your place. I’ll take it easy on you.

She smiled as she noticed in text or e-mail, he’d started capitalizing his pronouns. She liked it. It made her feel…

Owned.

She shoved away her feelings for him and locked them up tight. She didn’t want to ruin this by getting clingy and needy and having him pull the plug.

Yes, Sir.

His reply came as she was getting into the car to head to work. Good girl. I’ll be there by seven.

It was hard to force herself into work mode. Her mind kept drifting to the events of the past forty-eight hours. She admitted it was clichéd, but it felt like her world had been upended, yet everyone else still acted the same.

After the Monday morning editorial meeting, she opened the document containing her story and went through it. She still needed to add some to the end of it. After what she’d experienced, she now knew how to write it. She included basic information she’d learned in the submissive class the week before, the whip class, and the bondage class, before writing her conclusion.

I invite you along on this journey of discovery with me. In a very short amount of time I’ve had many stereotypes pulverized, met wonderful, welcoming people, and realized that the saying about normal being nothing more than a setting on a dryer is more true than I ever knew. This series of articles will examine different facets of BDSM, and the real, everyday people who practice it. It might make some of you realize you aren’t as “weird” as you thought you were. It might also give some of you a welcomed insight into questions that have run through your own mind.

I know I, for one, will never be the same. And I think in my case that’s a good thing. (Apologies to Martha Stewart.)

After one more read-through, Shayla selected the entire article and copied it into an e-mail that she BCC’d to Loren, Leah, Tilly, Clarisse…and Tony.

She added a note at the top.

Sorry for the short notice, but I’m turning this in this afternoon. If you all have any suggestions or corrections I need to make, please let me know. I should be able to make edits to it until late Tuesday.

She hit send and sat back in her chair.

Tony texted her a short while later. Got e-mail. Busy with meetings. Later?

She smiled. Yes, Sir. Later is fine. Thank You.

For him she’d do her damnedest to hold the thing until the absolute last minute on Tuesday afternoon if she had to.

Loren called her within an hour. “The article’s great. So? How’s the ass?”

Shayla laughed. “Doing good.” She’d texted back and forth with Loren a few times Sunday afternoon before going to Tony’s.

“Aaand? Tell me what happened last night.”

She lowered her voice. “He introduced me to forced orgasm torture.”

“Oooh, lucky bitch.” She giggled. “Defies description, doesn’t it?”

“Um, yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

Tony called her after lunch. “I read the article, pet. It sounds good. I don’t have any recommendations.”

She felt herself blush. “Thank you, Sir.” Leah, Tilly, and Clarisse had also weighed in via text, e-mail, and phone, also giving their endorsements.

“So you liked the suggestion I had about what to do during our next private session, hmm?”

Her face felt like a supernova. Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. Damn, she’d have to clean up after this phone call. She felt how wet his voice had already gotten her.

“We’ll do more talking than play on Wednesday,” he said, “but I want you to be naked except for your collar when I get there. Understand?”

She sucked in a breath. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Is anyone listening to you right now?” he asked.

“No, Sir, but I’m in a cubicle.”

“You’re such a good girl to remember our protocol,” he said. “Calling me Sir while at work. Such a brave, good pet.”

Her insides felt like mush. She knew if she didn’t get to the bathroom soon to clean up, she’d definitely end up with a wet spot on her slacks. “Thank you, Sir.”

He chuckled. “I’ll let you get back to work. I’m looking forward to Wednesday night.”

“Me, too, Sir. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, pet. It is most definitely my pleasure.”

Tony ended the call and fought the urge to giggle. Instead of imagining torturing his coworkers or boss, now he could recall the real-life torture he’d inflicted upon Shayla. He’d already started the morning by rubbing one out in the shower.

He spent the day trying to focus on his work and constantly found his mind drifting back to the events of the weekend. That wasn’t like him. At work, he never had a problem being all business.

No one had ever affected him like this before.

Ever.

I’m just going to have to spend the next eight weeks showing her how good it can be and hopefully she won’t want to end it.

Tony mercilessly teased Shayla via text all day Tuesday. She couldn’t wait for Wednesday evening to roll around. The thought of a spanking, or of whatever things he would do to her, kept her in a constant state of horniness.

By the time he texted her as he left work Wednesday night, she was more than ready for whatever he wanted to dish out.

On my way. ETA 25. Order pizza.

She grinned and called it in, thrilled to know he’d be there shortly. As ordered, she was naked and wearing her collar when Tony arrived.

He wasted no time. After their greeting, he hooked a finger through her collar and led her over to the couch. “Over my lap, pet.”

She felt her juices flowing already as he spanked her with his bare hand. She cried and sobbed as the stinging pain grew more intense, but she didn’t safeword.

When he stopped, she gasped for air and closed her eyes, relaxing as he rubbed her ass.

“Such a good pet. Spread your legs.”

She did. He inserted two fingers inside her and slowly fucked her with them, turning his hand so he could also rub her clit with his thumb.

He reached in front of her and stuck two fingers of his other hand into her mouth. “Suck my fingers, pet.”

She did, eagerly, holding on to his wrist as he finger-fucked her through two orgasms, her cries muffled by his fingers.

“Sit up, pet.”

On shaky legs, she did.

“Open.”

She complied.

“Suck my hand clean, pet. You made a mess.”

She closed her eyes and took her time, laving her tongue up and down his fingers as she licked every last drop of her juices off his hand.

He smiled. “Such a good girl.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Her eyes must have grown wide because he laughed. “Relax, pet. I’ll get it.”

Fortunately, she couldn’t be seen from the front door. She heard him talk with someone, then he returned carrying the pizza. “Dinner’s here, pet. Perfect timing.”

He washed his hands as she finally got her legs to start working again and joined him in the kitchen. “Where are your forks?” He glanced at her and laughed. “You can go clean up if you want to, pet.”

“Thank you, Sir. Over there.” She pointed at a drawer before heading to the bathroom.

He didn’t bother hiding his amusement. Yep, she was already in subspace. He loved playing with her, how responsive she was, how cute she looked when she realized a spanking had made her wet.

Good thing I’m not an evil scientist.

He opened a drawer, but it wasn’t full of utensils. It looked like a catchall drawer. On the top lay a folded piece of paper. He picked it up and, before truly thinking about it, looked at it.

A letter from her ex.

Even as his brain screamed at him not to, he read it.

Why would she hold on to this?

Unless she’s not really over him.

He put the paper back and closed the drawer, ashamed of himself for the violation of her privacy. He was better than that.

Yeah, but you don’t want to lose your heart to someone who will turn around and leave you, do you?

Dammit.

The seed of doubt grew into a strangling vine at light speed.

Quit being stupid.

By the time she returned, he’d found the forks and paper plates and had the pizza ready to serve. They settled on the couch and even the sight of her naked and collared and still looking freshly fucked couldn’t erase from his mind the image of that letter in her drawer.

“Have you heard anything else from your ex lately?” Subtle, Daniels. Really subtle.

Shayla tensed a little. “Not since the last check he sent me.” She picked at her pizza.

Don’t do this. Do not do this! “You haven’t demanded a repayment schedule from him?”

She shook her head. “He either will or won’t repay me. And even if he gives me an answer, I can’t trust him to stick to his word.” She glanced at him. “He lied to me. Destroyed my trust. If he told me the sky was blue, I’d stick my head out a window and check. I’d rather expect the worst from him than get my hopes up that he’ll make good just to give him the power to disappoint me again.”

He charged ahead anyway, wanting it cleared up. “What kind of porn was it you said he was into, again?”

“BDSM porn.” Now she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

Why are you doing this? He put his plate down, well aware the next few minutes might be the end of their evening, or even the end of their time together. “I need to ask you something, and I want an honest answer. Look at me, pet.”

She did.

“You’re not using this, what we’re doing, as a way to better understand it in hopes of trying to win him back or something, are you?”

Her mouth gaped. “No! How could you even think such a thing?”

“I’m not proud of this, but I accidentally found his letter to you in your junk drawer. I couldn’t help wonder why you saved it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have read it, but it’s a legitimate question.”

“No, it’s not a fucking legitimate question!”

“He put you through a lot. I’m not accusing you, but I need to know for sure. I’m just trying to make sure we’re on the same page.”

She stormed over to the kitchen, where she yanked the drawer open and pulled the letter out before stalking back over to him. She waved it in front of him. “This is what I think of him!”

She ripped it into tiny pieces and threw it in the air. “It shocked the hell out of me when I got it, all right? It was wrapped around the check. At the time I got it, it upset me and I couldn’t think, so I stuffed it in there and forgot about it. Okay?”

He felt both relieved and like shit that he’d snooped. He also belatedly realized, from the tension in her body and the tone of her voice, that he’d inadvertently ripped the scab off her fresh emotional wound. “Okay.”

She angrily wiped at her eyes. “I trusted him. I loved him. And he took that and threw it away. You don’t think I know how that feels? Do you honestly think so little of me that you think I’d turn around and do that to someone else? Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Then what the hell?”

“I’m sorry, pet. I was out of line.”

“Damn right you’re out of line.” She dropped back down to the couch, a scowl on her face.

He tried again. “I should not have read it. It was wrong.”

She glared at him. “He fucking put me through the goddamned wringer. I thought you understood that. I trusted you with that information. I thought you understood what I went through, but I guess I was wrong.”

He sensed her winding up into an epic tantrum and felt helpless to diffuse it. “You have to understand what it looked like from my end.”

Shayla saw red. In an instant she’d gone from feeling blissfully subbie to feeling like she’d just been tossed, naked, out of a moving car onto a gravel road. Her fragile, newfound trust once again felt sliced into jagged pieces that cut into her heart and soul.

She wanted him to hurt the way she’d been hurt.

The way James had hurt her.

Even worse, to have a beautiful, sweet taste of trust, of something she’d never thought she’d ever have again, just to have it brutally yanked out from under her was more than she could bear.

Am I really that crappy a judge of character? Maybe I don’t deserve to be in a relationship if I can’t manage to pick a decent guy. “You men are all alike, aren’t you? Everything’s so cut and dry? It doesn’t matter what we do, we’re always going to get questioned for it. You’re all fucking assholes.”

“Pet, calm down, please. Let’s talk about this.”

“No, I’m done talking.” She stood up and took her plate to the kitchen. “I fucking talked my heart out to James and thought he’d changed and it turned out he was just using me. Are you just using me, too, asshole? Huh? I know I’m not built like one of those goddamned porn models, but I’m good enough to get your jollies off over, aren’t I?” Her rapidly fraying control barely hung on by a thread.

“Pet.” She heard his warning tone, the way he drew the word out, and ignored it.

She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and was helpless to stop them. She turned on him again. “No, fuck this shit, fuck men who just use women. So I kept a letter. Big fat hairy deal. I’m still trying to deal with all that shit, you know. And I would think you’d be a little more understanding about it instead of an asshole.”

All the pain and rage she’d tried to hold back bubbled like a toxic stew to the surface. She felt as helpless to hold it back as she was to control what her body did in Tony’s hands.

He stood. “Last warning, pet,” he quietly said. “Calm down and let’s talk this out. I’m very sorry I invaded your privacy, and I’m sorry I questioned your motives. You have every right to be angry with me for that. I was wrong. But we can leave the dramatics out of it—”

The last thread snapped. “No, I’m not going to fucking calm down! How can you be so fucking calm, huh? I guess life is happy in Dom town where everyone does what they’re told when they’re told. Well in my world it didn’t work like that. I was made a chump by a guy who many of my friends warned me would hurt me again. And they were right, he did. I’m an idiot for trusting, and I’m beginning to think you’re all alike. That you’re all assholes.”

“Good night, pet. When you can discuss this calmly, we’ll talk.”

She watched as he left. After a minute, when he didn’t return, she raced to the front window and realized he had, in fact, driven off.

What the fuck did I just do?

Yes, she had every right to be angry at him, but as all the pain and anger flowed out of her, as control began to seep back into her brain, she realized what she’d done, what she’d said.

He had apologized. He had tried to calm her down, and she would have nothing to do with it.

Her appetite gone, she shoved the pizza, box and all, into the fridge and went to bed where she cried herself to sleep.