Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

She loved that feeling.

Craved it.

Needed it.

Once she was left spent and panting on the bench, he removed the nipple clamps and unfastened her restraints and helped her up.

She noticed the butt plug remained.

He pointed at the floor. She dropped to her knees, praying this was the moment she’d hoped for.

He considered her for a long time, as her clit throbbed with ghostly memories of the vibrator and her ass clenched around the butt plug buried inside her.

“You asked me earlier to do something, pet.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

“I want to give you a blow job, Sir.”

“You still want to?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

“There is a price to pay for that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you care what it is?”

“No, Sir. I trust you.”

He reached out and stroked her hair. “Such a good pet. Stand up.”

She did, as he kicked off his shoes. He held out his arms. “Undress me, pet.”

Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she worked the buttons on his shirt. She barely managed his belt and the button on his jeans. His hard cock made pulling the zipper down difficult, but she managed.

As his jeans slid down his hips, she couldn’t help pressing her face against the front of his briefs, where the rigid outline of his cock strained for freedom.

She could smell him, warm and sensuous, and she couldn’t wait to have his cock in her mouth.

Once he was naked, he hooked a finger through the front ring of her collar and put her back on the bench, where he clipped her wrists and ankles to it.

It put her at perfect height to take his cock.

He stood in front of her as she opened her mouth, but he kept his cock tantalizingly out of reach. “Patience, pet. When I come, you will hold it in your mouth without swallowing until I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir!”

He fisted his cock and moved closer. She reached out with her tongue, but he seemed to derive evil pleasure tormenting her like that as well. She could smell him, see the drop of pre-cum already pearling at the slit.

“Beg me, pet. Beg me to worship my cock.”

“Please, Sir! Please let me suck your cock. I want to suck your cock. I want you to come down my throat.”

The soul-melting smile returned. “Such a good girl,” he cooed. “Now that you love anal so much, maybe I’ll train you to be my cock slut. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sir!” Now her pussy clenched, nearly cramping with need.

He slowly fed his cock to her. She eagerly lapped at it, hungrily, moaning at the taste of his juices. He took his time, slowly thrusting, his hands resting on either side of her head until she realized, like that night with the strap-on, he was driving and fucking her mouth.

His cock felt like silken steel against her tongue, warm and thick and musky and sweet, everything she dreamed and better. She relaxed her mouth and let him use her, his praise sinking her deep into subspace again.

He went harder, faster. “Get ready, pet,” he grunted. “Remember, hold it. Do not swallow.”

His cock went rigid against her tongue and she felt jets of hot cum streaming into her mouth. His body went rigid and he groaned, making her groan with him as she finally got to taste him.

It wasn’t until he went soft that he pulled out. “Show me, pet.”

She opened her mouth, careful not to lose any of it.

He smiled. “Good girl. Mouth closed and hold it until I say so.”

He walked behind her. Then she sensed him kneel between her legs and felt his hot breath on her clit. She whined when his hands spread her labia, opening her wide to his view.

She almost forgot to keep her mouth closed when his tongue flicked out and stroked her clit. He took his time the same way he did everything else, driving her desire harder, faster, higher, until she didn’t think she could take it anymore.

“Swallow, pet,” he ordered. Then his teeth clamped down on her clit.

She was mid swallow when the orgasm hit. He didn’t stop either, using his lips and tongue and teeth and sucking, nipping, licking her through several orgasms that left her sobbing with relief when he finally finished. He kissed the insides of her thighs and stood. “Such a good girl.”

She lay there with her eyes closed, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss. She didn’t know how he did it. How he managed to make her come over and over, and when she was sure there was no way in hell she could come again, he blithely revved her motor and sent her on another cycle of climaxes she never dreamed possible.

She heard the sink run briefly. Then he was standing in front of her again. “Want seconds, pet?”

She opened her eyes, eye to eye with his erect cock.

She met his gaze as she opened her mouth wide.

“Such a good girl. You can swallow this time.” He used her hard and fast. Deep inside, she felt more than pleased and satisfied. He was using her for his pleasure. She was making him feel like this.

She’d let him use her however he wanted if she could keep feeling that good.

He came a lot faster that time. When he finished, he let out a happy sigh before unfastening her restraints. “TV and cuddle time, pet.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

* * *

He got her settled on the couch. “Want a drink, pet?”

“Yes, please.”

A few moments later, Tony returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for her and her phone. “I heard it vibrating on the counter,” he said. “I didn’t know if you wanted to check it or not.”

“Thanks.” She drank several long swallows from the glass and waited until her head was once again securely snuggled in Tony’s lap before checking her phone.

She’d missed two text messages from her mother. When she opened them, she swore.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

She stared at the screen. “My mom just sent me flight and hotel information. They’re arriving late Friday night in Tampa and driving down to Sarasota.” She looked up at him, nearly in tears that she’d have to give up their Saturday afternoon session, and maybe their Sunday one, too.

“You don’t want to see them?”

“I…” She hesitated, not wanting to appear clingy or needy. And definitely not wanting to admit the full truth of her feelings to him. “I’d really looked forward to our Saturday is all.”

He laced his fingers through hers and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “It’s all right, pet. I’ll go with you, if you want. Feel free to tell them I’m your boyfriend.”

“Really?” She sat up and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Sir!”

* * *

He had to bite back the urge to laugh. A chance to meet her parents? Hell, yes.

A chance to spend a relatively vanilla day with her and give her a chance to see what it could be like between them in a relationship beyond their agreement?

Fuck, yeah.

Like hell he’d give up a chance to spend time with her, period, as long as work didn’t interfere.

Maybe I can win them over, he idly thought.

He smiled. A chance to get her used to calling me her boyfriend?

No-brainer.

Shayla had another reason to feel less than enthused about her parents’ visit.

That reason smacked her in the face Tuesday morning as she sat at her desk, chin propped in her hand, and she stared at her computer.

But if Mom and Dad were reading my articles, wouldn’t they have said something? Anything?

She hadn’t told them about the series she was writing for the magazine, although the job of weeding through her work e-mail every morning grew longer as the series went on. She deleted without reply the few e-mails blasting her for the series, usually preachy missives telling her she would burn in hell for her sinful activities.

She also deleted, without reply, the blessedly few creepy e-mails asking her out.

The rest of the e-mails were either from people in the lifestyle praising her accuracy and the positive spin she gave BDSM practices, or from people asking questions about how to find out more information to get involved themselves.

It didn’t hurt that their website hits for the series had spiked to an all-time high.

After thinking for a few more minutes, she returned her fingers to the keyboard and added to the copy she’d already written that morning.

It’s difficult to explain to someone what it’s like to dislike pain and yet crave the act of receiving it for another’s pleasure. It’s certainly not something I ever thought I would find myself doing.

And it’s definitely not something I ever thought I would enjoy.

She sat back and stared at the article, reading it once again from the beginning. Her time with Tony seemed to be moving far too fast, and yet it felt like he’d been in her life forever.

Part of her wanted to ask him to extend their agreement, or ask him his opinion of changing it from just an arrangement to a formal relationship.

But she also didn’t want to appear clingy, or torpedo things with him before their full time was up, either. On top of that, he’d had several crazy weeks at work and several times stated how he enjoyed their time together as a way to put work out of his mind.

She didn’t want to ruin that for him.

I should wait until the end of things. If he wants to change things up sooner, he’ll tell me. He’s the Dom.

* * *

Shayla nervously paced her living room Saturday morning until she heard Tony’s car pull up next to hers and shut off. She didn’t even let him reach the front door before she had it open and was waiting for him.

He smiled as he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

Then he pointed to the floor.

Without hesitation she dropped to her knees and kissed both of his feet then the backs of his hands before nuzzling the front of his slacks.

As always, his bulge hardened immediately, making her smile.

She looked up at him, his smile making her wet. He stroked the top of her head. “Such a good pet,” he softly said.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“We have fifteen minutes before we need to head to their hotel. Panties off.”

She swallowed hard but complied immediately, standing and pulling them off. When he held out his hand for them she placed them in his palm.

He took hold of the nape of her neck the way he always did, gently but firmly, and marched her over to the couch. He sat, then patted his lap. “Face down, pet.”

More moisture flooded her pussy as she knew what was coming. Damn him! But it wasn’t anger churning her guts, it was need.

When she was settled on his lap, her head toward his left so he could spank her with his right hand, he carefully balled up her panties. “Open, pet.”

She did. He tucked them into her mouth before his left hand settled firmly on the nape of her neck, his fingers hooked around her collar. His right hand pulled up the skirt of her sundress, exposing her ass and thighs.

His smooth, low tone helped stoke her desire. “I think my pet needs a nice, warm, red ass before she takes me to meet her parents,” he said. “Because I want my pet to remember who she belongs to. I think my pet wants that, too. Don’t you?” His right hand stroked her ass.

She desperately fought the urge to rub herself against his thigh. She’d be wet enough as it was after the spanking. She mumbled, “Yes, Sir,” around the panties.

“Ask me for it.”

If she didn’t leave a wet spot on his slacks, it would be a miracle. “Please spank me, Sir,” she mumbled around the makeshift gag.

His warm chuckle only fanned the flames. “That’s my good girl.” When his right hand fell still, she braced herself for what would come next. Sure enough, the first blow fell, hard and fast and stinging and making her glad for the fabric in her mouth to chew down on to stifle her cry so she didn’t scare the neighbors.

He spanked her hard, stopping every few strokes to squeeze and soothe and caress the flesh of her ass before starting again, over and over, until she sobbed into her hands, which she’d tightly clenched together against the pain.

And yet safewording didn’t cross her mind.

When he stopped and gently patted her rump, she gasped, relieved and disappointed that it was over so soon. “Sit up, pet.”