Bad Boy Dom

by Holly Roberts

  “One.”

  I swung again.

  “Two.”

  She was breathing hard, trying to take the pain I applied to her ass with slowly increasing force. She also needed relief from the bite to her pussy. It wasn’t comfortable to rub against the wood to get off. My arm rose again.

  “Three!” There was a slight squeal on the end of the word.

  We made it to ten and I pulled her head back, softly kissing her delectable lips. “Between one and five, where are you?”

  “Three.”

  “Three after only ten?”

  “It’s the wood. It hurts.”

  “Can you take ten more?”

  “Yes.”

  And she did. I licked the tears streaming from her face and whispered in her ear. “You taste wonderful when you cry.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Does your pussy hurt?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I unclipped her arms and laid her on her back on a low padded bench. I parted her legs.

  “Keep them still for me, Little Bird.”

  I thoroughly lubed a long strand of white pearls and began to hum. I missed this; the intensity of full-out play, the control, and the ability to take a woman past her limits. Angela gave me back this part of my life.

  I lifted her hips, and looped the pearls into the back of the garter belt and then ran them into the crack of her ass cheeks, bringing them over her pussy and securing them to the front of the belt. I arranged the strands so one was on either side of her clit in the folds; silky, lubricated, and glistening with her own personal juice. Her low moan was like the music I couldn’t control, her heated eyes begging me for the ultimate crescendo. I sank to my knees and ran my tongue along her hot clit, toying with the coolness from the pearls while she squirmed and sighed. I was gentle, treasuring her soreness, wanting only to give her aching folds pleasure. Slowly her sighs turned to uncontrolled moans.

  “Please, Sir, I need to come.” Her pussy quivered against my mouth. I had no intension of making her hold back any longer and took her clit between my teeth, sucking hard, causing her orgasm to explode.

  Slowly, she settled and I kissed the inside of her thighs, loving the aftershocks shaking through the muscles of her legs. “Shhhh, Little Bird,” I whispered against her skin.

  When her body went completely lax, I turned her over and spread her legs while attaching her ankles to straps at the bottom of the bench. I moved to her wrists securing them.

  I tipped her face so she was looking at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “What’s your number?”

  “One, Sir.”

  “I’m going to change that.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  I rolled a condom over my erection and then gently lubed her ass. “I’ve wanted your ass since the first time I saw you.” My hand came down with a resounding crack. On her sudden intake of air, I tightened the pearls connected to the back of the garter belt.

  “Awww!.”

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Really?”

  “It hurts my pussy, Sir.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. What’s your safeword?”

  “Red.”

  “And you’ll use it if this becomes too much?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Lowering the table, I placed small, biting kisses down her back. When I got to her ass cheek, I bit a little harder. I loved the feel of her wiggling, pink bottom as she tried to get away.

  I pulled the pearls from the crack of her ass and positioned my cock in between the strands. My hands went to her hips, slipping under the garter belt and pulling it upward causing the strand of pearls to tighten around my cock and slide deeper between the folds of her pussy. I coated my cock in lube and then placed the head at the entrance to her ass, barely breaching the rosette that tightened when I pushed forward.

  “Relax.”

  The air left her lungs, and I slowly forced my way forward. She was so fucking tight. I pulled on the pearls again and when she gasped, I slid past the tight ream of muscle. My breathing was no longer slow and, if it was possible, my cock swelled larger.

  “Where are you?”

  “Two.”

  My fingers moved up her spine, my thumb rubbing over each vertebra. Then, I wound my hand in her hair, pulling back, using my other hand to grasp her hip. I drew my cock slowly from her tight ass and then slid in again, feeling less resistance.

  “Are you ready for me to fuck you hard?”

  “Yes, Sir. Oh, please, Sir. Yes… fuck me!”

  Everything about her was perfect including the tiny noises she made that turned into low moans as my tempo increased. Her body was made to be fucked by mine.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Angela…

  “Do you pay someone to put the holes in your jeans?” I was looking at his ass, covered by the second skin of his ripped jeans. His black wife-beater completed the look of sex god, mega rock star. If another woman touched him, I’d break her fingers. The euphoria of Krispin Righteous sex on a big hard stick continued to throb through my tender pussy.

  “They come this way.” He gave me a quirky grin because he noticed my eyes moving up and down his body. “How are you feeling?”

  “Scared, excited, nervous.”

  “You’ll stay with me until I start playing, then you’ll be standing off to the side with Wade. He’ll take care of you.”

  “Thank you. I like Wade.”

  “He likes you too. Maybe too much. His eyes follow you constantly.”

  “Jealous, Sir?”

  He drew me up against his scrumptious body and I smoothed my hand over the front of his shirt. “You and your pussy are mine.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So is your ass.”

  “All yours.”

  “Are you really okay with this?”

  “The concert?”

  “Yes.”

  “I promise to have fun. I want to see your legendary performance.”

  “Hmm, I have a nice strap picked out for your delectable ass when we get home.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  ***

  Unlike the earlier trip to the venue, it now felt like all hell was breaking loose. A black limo picked us up from Krispin’s home. Wade joined us in the back and exited first when we stopped at the back entrance, which was now crowded with screaming women. Leather, boas, chainmail, and bare skin seemed to be the flavor of the evening. There was no rhyme or reason to the clothing styles. Screaming and pushing fans jostled for a close-up picture or quick touch to the protective man by my side. His arm wrapped around me as we made our way through what seemed like a human obstacle course.

  Wade and the driver helped to clear a path and finally we crossed inside. The screams were loud, and I felt momentary relief once the door closed and the cries became muted. I tried to hide my shaking fingers but Krispin lifted my hand to his lips and nibbled each knuckle as he kissed them and then rubbed my hand along his sexily stubbled cheek.

  “You okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “Wade’s on your other side. It won’t be that bad again until we leave.”

  “Okay.”

  He loosened his grip slightly but didn’t release my hand. I needed our skin to skin contact even if it was my sweaty palm to his hard callused one. I needed the reassurance, which he seemed to understand.

  Backstage was double chaos. People flew about their jobs, somehow knowing what to do in all the turmoil. This was Krispin’s world and there was no doubt in my mind that he gloried in it. But could I control my own inner turmoil and make it through a night surrounded by thousands of people? When at last we stood still, I closed my eyes and counted silently to ten, getting myself under control.

  I felt rough hands press to either side of my cheeks and I opened my eyes to see the brown depths of Krispin’s so close it almost made m
e cross my eyes. His lips took mine. He wasn’t gentle, but devoured my mouth like he starved for its taste.

  I needed his breath in my lungs. He seemed to know, because he breathed out through his mouth and gave me enough air to focus only on him.

  Pulling away, his soft words made me yearn for privacy. “I love you.” His forehead rested against mine and I drew strength from his declaration.

  I. Could. Do. This.

  When I noticed my surroundings again, the band circled us. Krispin kissed my fingers one last time, and then pressed my hand into Wade’s.

  “Don’t let go of her.” He looked at Wade and then quickly kissed my cheek before turning to his band. “Let’s fucking get this done boys. Kill ’em.”

  And Blood Rights took the stage.

  It was nothing like the earlier practice. Krispin and his band mates filled the auditorium with high-voltage power. I had no earplugs this time and the sound was loud and electric. Krispin commanded the stage, using every inch to draw the crowd into his music. They sang with him, screamed for all they were worth, and waved their arms back and forth perfectly in sync during the softer side of the show.

  I could actually feel starbursts in my eyes. I beheld the god of rock in all his majestic glory. He lived for his audience and I realized during our short time together, I’d seen only a small part of him.

  I was close enough to see sweat stream down his face and then he ripped his shirt, pulling it from his body and wiped his face. For just a short instant, our eyes met and he gave me his devil’s grin before tossing the shirt to the screaming fans pressed up against the stage. I had to smile but, at the same time, my heart tightened. I was too fucked-up to deserve this man.

  In that moment, I knew I would only bring him down. Tonight, I was holding my own but my anxiety, depression, and need for constants could rush forward at any time. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason. God, I loved him. Somehow, I had to let him go.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Krispin…

  For the first time, there was a presence greater than the fans during a concert. Even across the stage, I could feel the heat of her gaze. I lived for the screaming worship of the crowd, but during my long months of rehab, I realized I needed to separate myself from their often overwhelming need to have a piece of me. The withdrawal from my drug-induced coma brought back the need for pure music that I threw away in my fanatical need for stardom. Now, I performed for the fans, but I sang for me.

  While traveling from one end of the stage to the other, every fiber of my being focused on her. It didn’t hurt the music; in my mind’s ear, it improved it. I could feel the guys pump up higher with my intensity. In a few weeks, we would begin laying tracks for our next album. It would be better than the last. With our next world tour locked in, nothing could stop us.

  Best of all, Angela would be next to me, finally making my life complete. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was about her that drew me to her flame, but I needed the burn she ignited.

  She stood holding tight to Wade’s hand. I loved that she cared about the people in my life and included Wade, Matt and Stephon like the family they were. And God, she cooked, too! Perfection didn’t get any better.

  Our time on stage finally came to an end. The pleasant exhaustion I felt was deliciously charged with thoughts of fucking Angela all night. I was hoping to last out our new post-sober tradition and not carry her to my room before our down-to-earth session was complete. I thought the boys would understand, but I also wanted Angela to experience all of it.

  I pulled her into my arms before taking the towel Wade quickly offered. Moving her away, I led her to a far corner beneath the uncovered rafters of wires and cables. Her lips trembled just before I covered her mouth with mine. I lifted the towel from my neck and looped it over her head pulling her body closer to my bare chest. She smelled fresh and clean and I knew it was unfair to soil her shirt with my still-dripping body, but I didn’t care.

  With a will of iron, I managed to pull back. “How are you?”

  Instead of meeting my eyes, she looked down.

  “I’m okay.”

  I held my frustration back but couldn’t help letting her know she lied. “That strap will redden your ass sooner than later. Now give me the truth.”

  She hesitated. Damn, I didn’t want her choosing her words. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  It could be a compliment but I didn’t think so.

  “Hey guys, we’re supposed to meet the winners of the backstage passes. Save the lovey dovey shit for later.”

  “You’re not invited back to the house tonight.” I finally peeled my eyes from the top of her head and looked at Matt.

  “Bullshit. It’s tradition and would jinx us for life.”

  “I’m willing to risk it. I’ll be over in a moment.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “I’m not letting go of you again. The meet and greet is easy, getting outside to the car is always tricky but I’ve got you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  I moved her to my left so I could shake hands and keep my hold tight. Something was wrong but we would deal with it later. I knew my life was chaotic, but she handled herself better than Lydia gave her credit for. Her fingers still trembled but I would fix things when we got home.

  The guys were reading Angela’s mood and pitched in to run complete interference when we ran for the car. Protective mode strikes again. We all piled into my limo for the ride home, another tradition.

  Matt and Stephon had a young blonde sitting between them. She’d visited before and would relieve their post-show sexual insanity when they finally went home. Those two needed to settle down with a woman who could handle the double duo. My own life brought matchmaking to the forefront of my mind and made me laugh. There was a woman out there that could handle them.

  When the limo stopped in front of my home, we piled out and the mad dash for the pool ensued. Clothes flew and I caught the first smile from Angela as I dragged her along.

  “You don’t have to skinny dip if you don’t want to,” I grinned at her, “but the water helps relax us.”

  Her shirt came over her head. I was definitely not letting her out of my sight.

  “Last one in has the smallest dick!” One of the guys yelled and cannonballed into the water with a splash.

  I was the last one in.

  Wade got out first and ordered pizza. We all dripped inside after it was delivered. The crew kept extra clothes here and pulled on shorts but remained mostly bare-chested.

  We sat on the floor and couches, chowing down, and drinking water and cola. The days of post-show drug and alcohol delirium were far behind us and it felt good.

  I grabbed my guitar, then sat back down on the floor and scooted between Angela’s thighs. Leaning my head back, I looked into her sad smile where she sat perched above me on the couch. “Name a song.”

  For the first time that night, her eyes twinkled. “’Because of You.’ Tony’s version”

  It took me a moment and I saw the stumped look on the guy’s faces but my memory traveled from my brain through my fingers and hit the right chords. I may have missed a word or two but the intent was clear. “Because of you, there’s a song in my heart.”

  I finished the last note and looked back up to catch on lone tear make its way down her cheek.

  “Booooo!” this came from Stephon, “She can’t possibly like that shit. I’m grabbing my guitar and playing some real music.”

  “I’m afraid to ask, but what’s his idea of real music?” She tried to hide her watery eyes but I knew.

  “Anything with a cuss word. Can you take another hour before they leave?”

  “Yes.”

  It took an hour and a half. Funny how senseless music brought us down from our music high.

  “Time to go, fellas.”

  Matt and Stephon had their own woman for the night and they didn’t argue. The rest offered good
-natured sexual innuendos but quickly left.

  “Upstairs to bed.”

  Her look of disappointment was priceless. I owed her a spanking but I decided having her hot delectable ass beneath my hand was better than any strap. I needed answers.

  I removed her clothes one piece at a time. Then sat on the bed, bringing her down over my lap without a word. Her luscious ass wiggled over my lap but she stayed silent, waiting for my palm to land.

  “I want to talk.”

  Her head whipped around. “Talk?”

  “Yes, talk. Something’s wrong.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I want you to tell me.” My hand traveled over her ass, spreading her thighs so I had better access to her sweet pussy.

  “I’m just overwhelmed.”

  My hand came down, once. “I don’t like that word.”

  Her breath came out in a small gasp. I had no intention of giving her what she really wanted unless she came clean. My hand made small circles on her ass cheek, which now displayed a single handprint.

  “I was uncomfortable while you played.”

  Another quick slap; no harder, no softer. “Hmm, still not good enough.” She wiggled some more. “Stay still.”

  This time it was a huff of air that left her lungs.

  “You seem to have a problem with honesty, and for D/s relationships to work, it’s more important than anything else. Try again.”

  My hand smoothed over her flesh again. I wanted to pinch the redness my last slap left behind but I knew she’d enjoy it. Which wasn’t in my plans.

  “Fuck.” Her anger was apparent. “Please, just fuck me, Sir.”

  “No, because that’s what you want. I want the truth. Try again, minus the potty mouth.” My hand continued its slow gentle persuasion.

  Silence.

  I waited, calmly circling her luscious, round derriere.

  She huffed once and then went quiet again.

  I could stay like this all night.

  “I’m fucked up,” she said. “Really, I am.”

  Five quick, hard, rapid spanks.

  “Awww!”

  “Better?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then keep talking.”