Temporary Dom

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Temporary Dom Page 9

by Holly S. Roberts


  Before I shut her front door behind us, she was removing her clothes. Shit. When the last piece hit the floor she turned and fell to her knees. She took her punishment position, looking down and waiting. We needed to talk, but there were no words for how beautiful she was. There was also no excuse for her toppy behavior.

  I took a step closer. Grabbing her hair, I lifted her head. “Your punishment is to stay on your knees for an hour.” Her eyes flashed because she needed some serious pain and was doing everything to make sure I complied. It wouldn’t work. “I want you back in my house on weekends where we can deal with your behavior. Think about that over the next hour and call me tomorrow with your answer.” I released her and walked out the door. Machala didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to. If she could create lightning, I’d be struck dead.

  It took me forty-five minutes to get home and another two before I sat shirtless on the throne behind my drum kit. I mimicked the heavy beat thrumming in my head as my gaze went to the wall clock. I played while watching the minutes tick away knowing Machala was still on her knees. Her pussy was dripping by now, her knees sore and her shoulders stiff. I actually gave her the punishment knowing she wouldn’t disappoint me. The discomfort would also take a small edge off her need. It did fuck all for mine, but that’s what the beat was for.

  The vibrations of each strike carried me until the hour was up and I could no longer picture where Machala was in her home. Shower most likely. Fuck, my hard-on was killing me. I flipped the right stick to my left hand and kept to a steady shuffle on the toms and snare. My right hand went to my zipper. I fumbled a few seconds before my dick fell into my hand. I could picture the water trailing down her body. In my mind, I could feel her frustration over me leaving her. My hand was now sliding along my cock to the same rhythm as the drums. My knees went a bit wider and my fingers pressed harder.

  Her skin. The faint bruises. I knew just about any swimsuit would show the after effects of the abuse she took from me. They were my marks of possession and during the months we were apart, it killed me that she didn’t wear them. One of the reasons I never took my subs around the guys was because the women were usually black and blue. The guys knew I was a sadist, but it wasn’t something I threw in their faces. Not that they would judge. Machala was the first woman I wanted to share my family with, bruises and all.

  The next time she saw the guys, there would be no doubt that she could take whatever I dished out. It took only a few minutes before I threw my head back and groaned as I came in my hand. I lay the sticks down and headed to the shower.

  I hoped Machala was suffering.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Machala

  Everything ached, most of all my pussy. It had been a long time since I held a kneeling position for so long. I knew I pushed Luke and deep down I’d known it wouldn’t work. He was always the one in control and that’s what I needed from him. I suffered his punishment as desire swirled through my body.

  I took a shower and tried to relieve some of my pain, but it didn’t work. I needed to buy implements for self-flagellation. Something. Fucking anything so I could come on my own. I was now back to wanting Luke dead.

  He knew my answer. There was no reason to wait until tomorrow. I needed to stop pushing, though. He didn’t take it well and I fucking needed him so badly I screamed aloud. Hopefully the sound of the shower muffled it and my neighbors didn’t call the police.

  I lay sleepless in bed for hours—the simmering need in my pussy refusing to dissipate. I have no idea when I fell asleep, but the dream woke me up.

  I was a young child looking in the mirror and watching as my body shrank to skeletal bones and finally dust. “Come along, you’re too weak to just stand there.” My mother spoke in my native tongue as she pulled me away from the mirror. I crouched on the ground, my arms circling her leg as we stood on the crowded street. She begged for food. People ignored us. A man offered her money for me and I silently screamed. I was so scared she’d hand me over that I bit my lip. When I rubbed it with my hand there was blood everywhere. It ran down my mother’s legs and poured over the rags I wore as clothes.

  “Stay there,” she whispered. “You are too weak to stand.”

  I drowned in the blood, unable to move or draw in a breath.

  That’s when I woke up unable to breathe. Unable to pull myself from the past. My weakness. It saved my life, but at what cost? I pulled the pillow tight over my face, making it harder to breathe. I was no longer lost in the dream and the actual restriction of air brought me back. I did something I hadn’t done in years. I cried for the little girl who blew away into the wind. The strong little girl who never had a chance to survive.

  I have no idea how long it took to gain control of myself. I reached for my cell and called Luke. His sleepy voice had my pulse settling.

  “I had a dream.” He would understand. “I can’t do this alone, Luke. Please. I’ll come on the weekends, anytime you want. I need the pain to sleep. Please.” I couldn’t help the sob that escaped my throat.

  “I’m on my way, girl.” The phone went dead. I sat it back on the nightstand with trembling fingers.

  ***

  Luke

  I didn’t know if Machala had any idea how far she went with one phrase. I need the pain to sleep. I’d asked a hundred times why she needed pain. I crave it, I want to please you, the pain soothes me. I always knew her answers were lies, but I couldn’t break through. I need the pain to sleep. She was no longer trying to control me, her words were her submission.

  At a traffic light a few blocks from her home I sent her a text. Unlock the door and wait on your bed naked. I should be exhausted, but adrenaline was pumping so fast through my body that I felt intoxicated. I parked and grabbed my bag from the trunk.

  The door was unlocked. I shut and locked it behind me, walking with slow even strides to her room—tapping a drumstick against my thigh. I wanted her hearing me and knowing what was in store.

  She waited in the center of the bed on her knees, her hands resting on her thighs, her eyes down. This was the way I had her wait on Friday and Saturday nights. “Off the bed and in front of me, present yourself for punishment.” She scrambled down so fast I had to hold back a smile. “You know your safeword, otherwise I don’t want a sound from you.”

  I placed one of the sticks at her lips and she gripped it between her teeth. Usually I would strike her quickly, but not this time. I slowly walked around striking first on the back of her shoulder. She wasn’t expecting the pain there and a small gasp escaped her lips.

  “Silence.”

  The next struck the top of her ass followed by her breast. I didn’t hold back. There was no rhyme or reason to when the next strike came down or where. Her lungs started heaving, tears stained her face. I didn’t stop. I could see her nails digging into the skin of her arms where she held them behind her. I struck her upper arm. If it wasn’t in the danger zone, such as her kidneys, I left small welts from the end of the stick. Her entire body quivered, but I didn’t let up.

  She took it.

  I saw her lips move, but she didn’t safeword… she was close. I went to my knees and pulled her against me, cradling her in my arms. Now her sobs broke from her throat.

  “Thank you, Luke. Thank you.”

  “Shh. Quiet.” I ran my hands over the welts, pinching at times soothing at others. I let her cry it out. My strong ice queen wasn’t broken, would never be broken, but she was submitting fully for the first time. I couldn’t lose the trust she’d finally given over and it took everything I had to say nothing about her dream. She would tell me when she was ready. It could take days, weeks, or months. I no longer cared.

  When the tears slowed I helped her up and onto the bed. I grabbed tissues from the bathroom and wiped her face and nose. She didn’t stop me. I always noticed these intimate touches made her uncomfortable, but not tonight. I threw the used tissues away and walked back over to the bed.

  “On your knees and forea
rms, ass in the air.” She didn’t object or give me any defiant looks. She submitted.

  I lubed a medium butt plug because I didn’t plan to take her ass, but I wanted to feel the added tightness of her pussy when her ass was full. She had no idea what it did to me when Wade’s dick was inside her and I could feel it as we both pumped into her.

  “Push back and open for me girl.” I pushed the butt plug inside without taking it easy on her. After rolling on a condom, I climbed behind her on the bed and my cock drove home. I placed one hand on her upper back, pushing her into the mattress. With the other, I grabbed the tight flesh on her ass and hips and squeezed painfully. She took it all.

  “Don’t come,” I said when her moans grew louder and I knew she was close. She held back like a good girl. Several hard pumps later and I ground my thighs against her ass. “Now, girl, come for me.”

  Her pussy spasmed, the silky muscles milking me dry. I lay down, pulling Machala against my chest. I removed the condom and tossed it on my clothes. With a little wiggling, I got us both beneath the covers. “Go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

  “The plug,” she whispered.

  “Is staying put. Shh. Sleep.” Our sweaty bodies slicked against each other. This is how I wanted her. I needed to breathe in the combined scent of us, unwashed and dirty. A shower or bath would only soothe her welts and I didn’t want that either. This was who I was and this was what Machala needed.

  I fell asleep an hour later, her breathing deep, my nose in the hair at her nape inhaling her scent.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Machala

  We slept in late. My nightmare didn’t return. I awoke feeling better than I had in months. It seemed that every inch of skin on my body ached. It was wonderful. The plug in my ass was not. Luke slid his fingers between my thighs and pulled just slightly on the invasive glass.

  “Do you need to use the bathroom?” He breathed into my ear.

  “No, but please take it out.”

  “I will when I’m ready to fuck your ass. Right now you’ll pay for thinking you control what I do.”

  He had me on my stomach across his knees in seconds. He rarely used a bare hand but his palm rained fire across my previously abused flesh. I muffled my cries against the covers. When he finished, he pulled the plug out, turned me around on the bed, and sank his cock deep into my ass. His fingers snaked under me until he pinched my clit.

  “You don’t get to come this morning, my naughty girl.”

  Fuck, he had to be kidding. That was stupid; Luke never joked about denying me orgasms. He pumped inside of me without gentleness. I have no idea when he put on a condom, but the slide of his come was denied my ass. His possession hurt just as he wanted it to. His loud groan filled the room as he painfully squeezed my hips.

  “Shower then food,” he grumbled a few minutes later.

  He held me in the shower and slowly washed my skin from head to toe. I wanted to go to my knees and repay him for coming over and saving me, but he never gave me the signal. Most of all I wanted to please him.

  We sat across from each other at my small morning table overlooking the garden.

  “Can you take time off work?”

  I was surprised at the question. “Well, yes, probably. May I ask why?”

  His eyes assessed me. “I want to try two weeks of total power exchange and see if it will help you sleep.”

  Shit. A part of me wanted so badly to let go and allow Luke to at least try. It didn’t matter, though; my shields came up. I pushed against the table so I could stand. Luke grabbed me and pressed me back into my seat.

  “No questions, Machala. I won’t require you to speak about anything you don’t wish to. I’m asking for two weeks and then we can discuss the long term.”

  Thinking about two weeks of daily beatings had me wet again. Luke’s sadistic grin told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  He leaned in closer. “I smell your pussy. It says yes.”

  Heat traveled up my chest and my cheeks went hot. He slid his chair closer and wiggled his fingers between my thighs without asking me to spread my legs. He circled the tip of one finger into my liquid heat that was waiting for his cock. I could see the result of my desire on his finger when he drew it away. He licked it off and very nonchalantly took a bite of his cereal. The man had no boundaries when it came to our bodies and sex.

  “Yes,” I whispered in a gravelly voice. I was desperate to come.

  “Finish eating and then we’ll go.”

  Hell. I didn’t taste my cereal or toast, but I ate because Luke watched and I had a burning desire to please him. Two hours later, we walked through his front door and I was home. I looked at him, waiting for his command.

  “Clothes off. Figure out what we’re having for lunch and dinner. I’m heading to the music room.”

  He needed to let off steam. I needed him to do it on me, but that wasn’t what he commanded. He left me and I went to my old room, removing my clothes and placing them in a drawer. He hadn’t let me pack more than one dress, the red swimsuit, and the casual shorts and shirt I wore for the drive over. I couldn’t describe the feelings within me as I walked through the familiar walls of his home—naked, his preference.

  It felt… perfect.

  I made a salad for lunch and placed it in the refrigerator. I took out chicken for dinner, hoping he would start up the grill for me. I chopped vegetables too. I finished in the kitchen and now my nerves went to work. I knew I could grab a book from his library and let him continue playing, but I had no idea if that’s what he wanted. I realized being here this time was much different than before. This was about Luke’s needs with mine taking second place. I never felt this submissive before. I actually fought against it at every turn. Not this time. Luke came through when I needed him most.

  I followed the sound of drums.

  He sat on his stool, shirt off, sweat rolling down his chest. His hands flew over the drums and I envied them. He switched to a softer pattern, glancing at me while keeping the rhythm steady. I hated interrupting his personal time, but something drew me closer. I inched farther into the room.

  He turned slightly and spread his knees, giving me the come closer signal with his chin. He didn’t speak, but I knew where he wanted me. We’d done this before. I slipped beneath his arms, the beat never changing. There wasn’t much of the stool for me to rest on, so I wiggled between his thighs and made a little more room. His warm breath caressed my cheek and the vibrations from the drums went through his arms and into me where our bodies joined.

  I’d forgotten so many things about my time with him and this was one of them. His sweaty chest pressed against my naked back. Combined with the vibrations, my pussy flooded. He flicked the stick in his right hand up and caught it in his left, continuing to play two sticks one handed, never missing a beat. The man had magic hands. The fingers of his now-empty hand went to my breast, massaging my nipple to a stiff peak. In mere seconds, I was hornier than fuck.

  Luke continued playing while skimming his lips over the skin on my neck. I circled my hands behind his head, grabbing his hair and giving his mouth better access. The drumbeat abruptly stopped.

  “May I help you with something?” He whispered into my ear. His tongue came out and ran over the lobe. His stopping was my punishment for grabbing his hair.

  “You… um… I can’t think.”

  His husky laugh caused a zing to run from my breasts to my pussy. He pinched hard on my nipple and I almost slipped from the chair.

  “Machala?” he whispered.

  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted me doing now.”

  “What would you like to do?” he asked huskily.

  “Suck your cock while you play.”

  “Hmm,” he said against my neck. “Return with the largest butt plug I have and I’ll decide then.”

  A moan escaped me. I couldn’t help it. My ass had barely recovered from spending an entire night stretched. The largest butt plug would be excruciating.
I hurried from the room.

  Luke sat behind his drums naked when I returned. He stood and walked over to me. “Turn around and lift one leg onto the table.” He took the plug and lube from my hands.

  He spooned my body, placing his leg beneath my raised one, pushing my thigh out farther. He lubed his hands with his arms circling me. I watched as he slid his slippery fingers along the length and girth of the plug. His free hand went to my throat when he placed the plug between us and pushed in. I sucked in air, the constriction on my windpipe causing my heartbeat to accelerate. I groaned, the vibration of my throat making him press harder. He’d never used breath restriction on me before and I had no idea how it would make me feel.

  Submissive.

  I groaned again as the plug seated.

  “Good girl. I’m going to wash my hands then you can suck my cock.” He came back with a mischievous smile. “Crawl, girl.”

  I had to work at not rolling my eyes. Weaving my body around the different drums wasn’t easy while on my hands and knees. The stands got in the way, but Luke started playing and ignored me. I finally was able to situate myself between his knees, the largest drum pressing into my back. He nodded his chin as if saying, “What took you so long?”

  He gave me no direction, so I did what I craved. I made love to his cock with lips, tongue, and a small bit of teeth. The beat stayed the same, his left foot hit the pedal in a steady rhythm no matter what I did to his cock. It was frustrating because it seemed he ignored my mouth on his cock. I cupped his balls, rubbing the silky skin between my fingers. The sac tightened and his cock jumped. I went higher on my knees and took him deep within my throat. I couldn’t breathe, but for the next few seconds I didn’t need to. I pulled away and drew air into my lungs before swallowing his cock again. Luke always forced deep-throating on me and never before had he given me a chance to try it my way. He always had the control, but this time was different. I didn’t gag. The muscles in my throat worked him deeper. When I drew back it was with the intent of doing it again.

 

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