Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

She thrashed against her restraints as pain and pleasure struggled for dominance until she didn’t care anymore. She was about to safeword when she felt the suction disappear at the same time she heard a soft whish as he released the valve on the cup.

It took every last ounce of strength to suck air into her lungs as the soft sound of his chuckle came to her. He knelt next to her and stroked her hair. “My poor pet. That was almost too much, wasn’t it?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Don’t worry. We can work up to longer times on that.” He stroked her forehead. “But I will be trying the cups on your nipples next weekend. For as long as you had the nipple clamps on tonight, I expect you’ll be able to tolerate them for a while.”

She shivered and forced her eyes open. His gaze looked concerned, his face inches from hers. “Where are we, pet?” he softly asked.

She couldn’t close her eyes. She wanted to drown in his gaze.

A scary thought struck her. I’m falling in love with him.

She shoved it away. “Green, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You were a very good girl for me tonight. We’re done. Now, we’re going to go cuddle on the couch and watch TV and you can even take a nap if you want.”

She closed her eyes and nodded as the tears started.

He quickly unbound her and wrapped a blanket around her. “Hold on to me,” he said.

She wrapped an arm around his neck as he scooped her up. She rested her face against his chest and kept her eyes closed as he carried her out to the living room. Only after he had her settled on the couch with her head in his lap did she open her eyes and look up at him.

He gazed down at her. His hand kept stroking her hair, something she hoped he didn’t stop doing. “Are you all right, pet?”

She nodded, too tired to say anything. As her tears faded, she felt darkness closing in and gave in to it.

* * *

It wasn’t until he was sure she’d fallen asleep that he threw back his head and closed his eyes. His body thrummed with tension, adrenaline, desire.

He’d never had so much fun in his entire life. If he could, he’d put her in his bed, get undressed, and curl his body around hers all night long.

Jesus, I’m in love with her.

By all rights he knew he should end their agreement now, and tell her exactly why.

But it wasn’t her fault he couldn’t keep his heart corralled.

I can do this. I can handle this.

He hoped.

He’d only had her on the bench for about thirty minutes, but she slept nearly two hours. He dozed off and on, starting awake anytime he felt her move.

He was awake and watching her when she finally rejoined the land of the lucid.

He smiled down at her. “Sleep well?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

“It was definitely my pleasure, pet.”

“How long was I out?”

“Nearly two hours. It’s all right. I wore you out.” She looked sad for a moment. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m not going to want to go to work tomorrow,” she said. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon.”

“I’m really impressed by how well you did. You took everything I threw at you like a champ. You probably would have tolerated the clit pumping better if I’d done it early on, but you kept up with me.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Any questions?”

She stared up into his eyes again. He loved her hazel eyes, little flecks of amber and green and brown giving her a sweet look. “Are you still horny, Sir?”

His cock throbbed in his jeans. “Yes, pet. That’s my problem, not yours.”

“May I watch you…” She blinked. “You know, can I watch you rub one out?”

He pressed his lips together, tempted to say no, that it was pushing boundaries too far and fast considering she was still likely in subspace.

But the longing in her eyes, he couldn’t resist that.

“Okay.” He extricated himself from her and went to the bedroom, where he grabbed a towel from his bathroom and a bottle of lube from the bedside table. Upon second thought, he opened the drawer again and grabbed a spare double-ended snap clip out of it before returning to the living room.

She had the throw wrapped around her and was sitting up. “Hands behind you,” he ordered.

She complied immediately, even though she looked confused. He quickly snapped the clip to her wrist cuffs, keeping her immobile. “That’s so you don’t tempt me too much,” he said, brushing the tip of his finger down her nose.

She smiled.

He draped the throw around her again so she didn’t get chilled. He kicked off his shoes and unzipped his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down his legs. His shirt joined the fabric on the floor. After spreading the towel out, he sat at the other end of the couch, turned sideways and facing her. He braced his feet against the side of her leg. “You stay there,” he said, pointing at her. “I’m going to consider this a pet reward since you were such a good girl for me.”

Hell, he could lie to himself and her about that, use it as an excuse.

The truth was, he wanted her to watch. To see what she did to him.

* * *

She unconsciously licked her lips as she watched him settle into position. He had a beautiful body, athletic and trim, but not overly muscled. A light dusting of dark hair tapered down his chest into a treasure trail that ended in the short nest of hair surrounding the base of his member. His cock was gorgeous, at least eight inches, cut, that put James to shame. His eyes locked onto hers as he squirted lube into his left hand and slowly started stroking.

“I thought you were right-handed—”

“Shh,” he said. “Quiet, pet.”

Her lips clamped closed. She realized how smart he was to clip her hands behind her back. If she was free, she’d be crawling between his legs, eager to lick and suck his cock.

Pre-cum already oozed from the slit at the engorged head. He kept his eyes on hers as he stroked, the hard edge to his gaze fading and softening as his breath came in shorter gasps.

The first orgasm came in maybe two minutes with a soft grunt that made her pussy clench when she realized that was how he’d sound if he was fucking her. Pearly jets of cum exploded out of the end of his cock and all over the towel. But he only slowed his strokes, didn’t stop, never taking his eyes from her. After another moment, he was fully hard again.

“You do this to me, pet,” he whispered, stroking harder and faster now, a little twist of his wrist at the top of each stroke swiping across the head of his cock before sweeping down his shaft again.

Her lips parted. An image flashed in her mind, of her kneeling before him while he did this, his cock pointed at her open and eagerly waiting mouth.

She blinked and was back on the couch, his green eyes holding hers.

“Get ready, pet,” he whispered.

This time, his whole body tensed. His eyes fell closed as his chin dropped. He stroked harder, faster, the light slapping sound audible over the TV as his strokes turned into short, hard, jabbing motions.

He threw back his head and let out a loud groan as his cock exploded. The load of cum exploding from his cock didn’t look any smaller than the first. This time he fell still, breathing hard and leaning against the back of the couch as he caught his breath.

She was still staring at him when he opened his eyes. He let out a soft laugh. “Well?”

“Wow.”

He cleaned himself up with the towel before standing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She wished she could beg him to fuck her right then.

He looked amused. “Are you all right, pet?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

His gaze softened. He pulled on his shirt, briefs, and jeans before leaning in and kissing her forehead. He reached behind her and unclipped her wrists. “No, thank you, pet. As you can see, playing with you like this seems to have given my decent libido a boost. Usually I’m good for one.” He grinned. “You’ve set my sadistic motor running and that always makes me horny.”

He could have taken advantage of her at any time that night. He could have asked her to let him fuck her, or to suck him off, or anything. He had her trussed up tightly and so deep in subspace that she would have gladly begged for him to do it if he’d suggested it.

But he didn’t.

He’d kept his word.

Is this what trust feels like?

He led her back to the playroom, where he removed the wrist and ankle cuffs, but had her keep the collar on. She put her dress and sandals back on and he brought her glasses.

He stood in front of her by her car door, his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for tonight, pet. It was wonderful.”

He’s thanking me? “I had a great time, Sir,” she said.

“Any answers yet to those questions you’re puzzling over?”

She nodded, wishing she could tell him what was on her mind and afraid it would mean the end of their arrangement if she did. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I’m glad I can be the one to help you find them.”

She wanted to rise up on her toes and kiss him on the lips, to feel his goatee and moustache rubbing against her cheek. “Me, too, Sir.”

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.