Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

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.

Tony struggled not to laugh at her predicament. She was adorable, trying so hard to obey him. He reached into his pocket and adjusted the egg’s remote again to slow it down and give her a little respite. He stroked the back of her head with the other, enjoying the feel of her warm cheek pressing against his engorged cock through his jeans.

“Pet, do you realize I came home and rubbed not one, but two out, after you left the club last night?”

“Sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. I’m just returning the favor,” he teased. “I’m sure I’ll be rubbing more out later on. I haven’t felt this horny in a long while.” He belatedly realized what he’d said and wished he could take it back. It was okay for him to think and feel that way.

He just didn’t want to admit it to her and scare her away.

Luckily, she didn’t seem put off by that. “I could help you with that, Sir.”

“Ah, what a good pet. But not tonight. Maybe one day. Tonight, after dinner, I’m going to give you another spanking to warm that sweet ass of yours, and then I’m going to introduce you to my stunt cock.”

She laughed. “Stunt cock?”

He grinned. “Yep. Some men are afraid of sex toys. I, for one, love using a strap-on on a woman. I can buy them in any size I want, and they never go soft.”

Her eyes widened a little.

He leaned in close and hooked a finger through the ring on her collar again. “Tonight I’m introducing you to the sadistic world of forced orgasm torture.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“Don’t thank me yet, pet. It’s called torture for a reason.”

He led her from the room and back into the kitchen. “Oh, shoot. Stay here, I forgot something.”

She didn’t move while he retraced his steps to the playroom. He returned with a small fleece throw similar to the one he’d used on her the night before, and a large pillow. “I want my pet to be comfortable.” He put the pillow on the kitchen floor. It looked like a large dog bed.

When he pointed at it, she carefully sank to her knees on it.

He handed her the throw. “You don’t have to stay on your knees, pet. But you do need to stay on the pillow. If you need something, you ask for it and I’ll get it. Only use the throw if you’re actually cold. I can adjust the thermostat if you need it warmer. I want to see your body. Are you cold?”

“No, Sir.”

One side effect of the vibrating egg was that her nipples stood out like hard, aching peaks. He reached out and lightly pinched one, then the other.

She whimpered, broadening his smile.

“Poor pet. Are you horny?”

“Yes, Sir.”

When he did finally let her come, he suspected she’d be screaming her head off.

He almost giggled with sadistic glee. It’d been over a year since he’d been able to have a good, long, uninterrupted forced orgasm scene with someone. He actually didn’t like doing those kinds of scenes in front of others. He preferred to do them in private, where the bottom could feel more relaxed and uninhibited.

And so could he.

What he’d done to her at the club last night was only the tip of the iceberg. He expected by the time he finished with her tonight, she’d be a melted puddle of goo.

He gently patted her on the head. “I need to finish preparing our dinner, pet. You stay right there.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He set about putting their salads together, glad to find out she also liked bleu cheese dressing, his favorite. The turkey noodle casserole he’d put together earlier only had five more minutes in the oven.

He’d given serious thought to making her eat her dinner on the floor out of one of the stainless steel dog bowls he had stowed in his cabinet, then opted not to. He didn’t want to push her too hard, especially not after the night she’d had.

And the evening she was about to experience.

She would eat on the floor, on her pillow, but he’d let her use utensils.

This time.

* * *

Shayla did her best not to come throughout dinner, although getting up from the pillow to move from the kitchen out to the living room, where they would eat in front of the TV, and then back down again onto her pillow once there, proved problematic. He was nice enough to lower the speed and pattern of the egg, but the crotch strap on the harness rubbed against her aching clit and made moving difficult.

Dinner was delicious, but she had difficulty concentrating on the conversation and eating at the same time.

When they finished, Tony grinned. “Are you having problems there, pet?”

“Um, trying not to, Sir.”

“Such a good girl. Considering the walloping you took last night, I wanted to introduce you to a different form of sadism.”

“Thank you, Sir. You’re too good to me.”

He laughed and reached for the remote, which he’d put on the coffee table next to his plate. “Ooh, sarcasm. That means pet needs a little more distraction.”

Her protest turned into a plaintive moan as she struggled not to orgasm when he bumped the setting higher on the vibrating egg.

“You can always safeword,” he reminded her with an evil grin.

Truth be told, she didn’t really want the torture to end.

She shook her head.

Now gave her another look she loved besides his playful smile. This grin, almost like a little boy with a toy, made him look practically giddy. She loved it.

She loved that she was the reason he smiled like that, the source of his amusement, even if at her own expense.

Then again, it was no large sacrifice to endure.

He didn’t let her help clean up. He moved her back to the kitchen on the pillow where he could keep an eye on her and keep her mentally off-balance with the vibrating egg. When he had the leftovers put up and the dishes clean, he crooked a finger at her.

Carefully, oh so carefully, she got to her feet without orgasming.

Barely.

He smiled. “Such a good pet. I think you’re ready for the next part of our night.” He turned the egg off. She found that to be both a blessed relief, and that she missed it.

He picked up her blanket and pillow, hooked a finger through the front ring of her collar, and led her back to the playroom.

Working quickly, he removed the harness and pulled the egg from her. After wiping down the harness, and then washing the egg in a sink in the far corner that she’d missed before, he draped a towel over one of the spanking benches. He adjusted it to his liking, so the head was higher than the feet. Rolling up another towel, he put it at the head of the bench.