The Dom Games

by Rachel Robinson

  I let my hands fall from his hair. “Sir.”

  He leans back. “You’ve found your manners. What is it, Kayla?” His voice sends a shiver down my spine. I hate to make this comparison right now, but it’s like when you’re a little child and your father’s scolding voice breaks out and the instant reaction it causes. That’s what this reminds me of. He’s authoritative, he’s demanding without asking for anything, but most of all he’s frightening. The skin on my backside is still tingling and the sting is fresh, but I’m turned on. He rubs my waist, tucking his thumbs into the strings of my panties.

  My breath hitches. “I’m sore,” I mumble. It’s a truth, but it’s not what I wanted to say.

  Dominic pulls away, confusion washing over his face. “What do you mean?”

  I’ll have to spell it out, I guess. I’d rather not. “I’d like to go back to my room. My ass, I mean my backside, is sore. I’m tired.”

  “Go. I’ll check on you later. I have other things to handle.” He sidles away from me, letting the strings of my panties snap back into place. A camera pans over to the doorway for my impending exit. Steeling what confidence I have left, I walk away from the hell beast of hotness that is Dominic Reed instead of fucking him.

  He spanked me. Hard. And I can’t be sure, but I think this is me winning round one. When the large wooden door closes behind me, I take off the fucking heels and hightail it to my room. The cool air hits all of my exposed skin, as a constant reminder of what just happened on television.

  I’ll check on you later. He said. With or without cameras? I’d rather be fucking you. He said. Dominic Reed said this to me. Me. It doesn’t excuse the fact that all he did was make my ass red.

  Chapter Six

  “Preference”

  Dominic

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Kayla after she left the punishment room. I didn’t stop thinking about her when I returned to my harem in one of the playrooms. Nor when number one, Jessy McAdams, sucked me off without a goddamn gag reflex. I’m in my quarters, sitting on a fine leather sofa. The lights are low, and I have rock music playing quietly from the state of the art sound system. This room has been built specifically for acoustic perfection. I rub my temples when I think about her disobedience in the punishment room. I had to play it off like I was still in control.

  I had absolutely no fucking control. She asked me to kiss her and then proceeded to make out with me at her speed, and at her preferred tempo, and it was all her. I had little control over the situation, and the kicker is that I was okay with it. I knew what was happening, and I let it despite the cameras. I’ll call it aftercare if anyone asks me about it. I can’t be a fucking weak Dom. I think that’s why when I returned to the rest of the women I had little patience. I wanted to orgasm Kayla’s kiss from my mind.

  “Look how well that worked, you weak asshole.” I call down to the office and have the nighttime crew set up outside Kayla’s room. The more I think about her, the more furious I get. She walked away from me. She didn’t want me. I would have fucked her so good that she would have forgotten all about her red ass. I did tell her I would check on her.

  I throw on a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt. I could go to her without the cameras. That was my initial plan, but they need to see me assert control with her after that feeble show of my willpower. The other women paid for her mistake. I had no smiles or charm for them. No, nothing was left except pent-up sexual energy and frustration. I should have listened to Laurel. Fuck.

  When I throw my door open, barefoot, without product in my hair or powder on my fucking nose, I’m greeted with the telltale camera light and one assistant producer with sleepy eyes and pajama pants. I look at the watch on my wrist. Two a.m. I guess I should have made decisions earlier, but I’m the fucking boss and this is happening right now.

  They film as I walk down the hallway, enter the sub house, and trek up the stairs all the way to Kayla’s room at the end of the hallway. I placed her here away from the other women in hopes of keeping the drama low. We’ll have damn drama on every scene in the playrooms. We don’t need anything extra at the house. I rap on her door with my fist three times—heavy and concise.

  I grit my teeth and wait. She opens the door wearing a T-shirt with a rock band emblazoned across her chest. Kayla’s long brown hair is a tangled mess, and she has one eye squinted against the powerful lights behind my back. She looks fucking beautiful without a stitch of makeup hiding her flawless skin, with her bare legs crossed at the ankles, that I’m immediately stiff. After coming hard and fast down Jessy’s throat, that’s saying something. It’s saying everything.

  “May I enter?” I ask, without a greeting. If she says no, I have no idea what I’ll do. Delete the footage and go back to my room with my alpha tail tucked between my fucking legs. She wrote my presence in her space as a limit, so I’ll respect it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t ask for permission.

  She opens the door a little wider. “I guess,” she whispers sleepily. She nods her permission to the camera men behind me. I don’t hesitate. I step through the doorway and take her into my arms, pulling her small body against my own. The cameras are behind me, but ignoring them isn’t hard when I have this woman in my arms. It’s lesson time. She can’t power play me and expect to get away with it. After tonight, the ball will be in my court for the rest of my games.

  I kiss her once, pecking her lips hard—not nearly long enough to taste her. She takes a step back from the force, keeping her hands down by her sides. Narrowing my eyes, I calculate the ways in which I can take this. “I’m allowed in your room?” I ask, raising one brow.

  She bites her bottom lip and shields her eyes from the camera light. “You’re in here right now. You’ve bypassed my tired switch, I think. It also depends on what your intentions are. From what I remember I can rescind my invitation at any time,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. It brings her T-shirt up higher, almost exposing her panties. I want to see them. “So, if your intentions are to check on how I’m doing after you paddled me silly, fine. Stay. If you’re here for any other reason…” she says, trailing off. I hold up one hand to halt her words. She’s doing it again—taking control without even trying or realizing what she’s doing. “Sir,” she says, adding on.

  “Enough,” I say, my voice firm. “How are you feeling?” I glance down at her bare thighs and catch her smirk out of the corner of my eyes.

  She runs a hand through her tangled hair and cocks her head in question. She’s about to challenge me again. I see it in her devious green eyes. “I feel fine. A little sore. A lot tired. Terribly confused.”

  I regret the cameras now, but this is part of the game. “What about the situation confuses you?” Maybe she’s not the brightest bulb in the box.

  “The part where you said you would rather be fucking me than paddling my ass. Remember that?” Kayla asks. She motions to her bed, asking permission to sit down. With gritted teeth, I nod my head, but follow her to the large bed with messy sheets. The view forces the image of me as an uninvited guest in her world.

  The first camera comes around one side of the bed and the other newly arrived pans from the other side. The mics on the cameras are excellent, but the subs are required to wear one at every given moment. I notice Kayla’s on the sleeve of her shirt and sigh. “You misheard me, Kayla,” I growl, standing over her. How dare she bring up something whispered—something not intended for anyone else.

  She shakes her head and folds her legs underneath herself. I see her black silk panties covering her pussy. “I didn’t, Sir. I may be a lot of things, but deaf isn’t one of them. Why did you say that?” My heart rate accelerates as I imagine how this will look to the viewers at home. I said it because I was caught up envisioning the flavor of your fucking mouth and how good it felt to spank you. Because I wanted to shove my cock inside you while I clutched your red, punished ass. I wanted you to submit to me in all ways. Because I can’t say that, and we all know that will probably ne
ver happen, I walk to her dresser and open the long, smooth, top drawer. It’s unlocked now, but that will soon change.

  I hear her draw in a quick, noisy breath. I let my large hand trail over the wide selection of vibrators and dildos. My dick hardens at the mere thought of using one of these on her. “Perhaps I said I want to take care of you, Kayla. Which is what I’m going to do now. If you’ll let me.” I pick up a long, medium girthed vibrating wand with a rubber ball at the end. Holding it up in the air, I turn to her and raise one brow in question.

  Her gaze darts to the cameras. “Look at me,” I command. She does and her face is doe-eyed and fearful. “Can I show you something?” I ask, sliding the button to the high setting, the intense vibrations tickling my hand. I smile, let the black toy fall against my other hand, and wait.

  The seconds tick by, with me standing here asking permission, and with her holding the torch of power. I let my eyes close and open in a slow-motion blink. Finally, Kayla licks her lips and nods. “Yes, Sir,” she whispers. With her gaze glued to the object in my hand, I think I’ve distracted her enough to take care of business. I thumb the button down to turn off my little friend and walk slowly up to the edge of the custom-made, enormous bed. It swallows a person whole. The sheets had to be custom ordered from a place in Europe. For what takes place in these beds, the size is mandatory. Size is always mandatory. Her gaze flicks up to my face. Her sleepy eyes are gone, replaced by fierceness. It’s something a sub isn’t supposed to have, not this early in the relationship, at least. I like it and hate it in equal measure.

  “If you want to play, you’ll obey me, Kayla. Do you understand me?” I need a verbal yes. This moment will make it into final cut—me asking her and her reply. It will be beautiful on screen—stunning if they capture just the right angle.

  “I understand, Sir,” she replies, laying her palms on the top of her thighs. Just as I suspected, she’s obeying me now. “Will it hurt?” Ouch. That question hurts me. She’s fucking clueless. My dick hardens even further, straining against my jeans. I remind that motherfucker why we’re here and it’s not to fuck.

  “No. At least I hope it doesn’t. This is for pleasure.” Mine. Not yours. “Lie down and spread your legs.”

  She hesitates for a second, and I know how nervous she is right now. If I had more patience, I’d make her more comfortable, but as it is, she has earned every second of what she has coming. Kayla falls back onto the pillows with her arms stretched above her head. Towering over her, it reminds me of a child falling back into snow, about to make a snow angel. I shake the horrible memory out of my head and tug the back of my shirt collar to throw off my T-shirt.

  She watches my every move closely. She’s learning, judging, she’s studying. I grab the vibrator and crawl over a mound of comforter and reach her feet, and then the edge of her shirt. Letting one finger hook under the hem, I bring it up until her belly button is exposed. There’s a small scar where it used to be pierced. What a naughty girl—marring her body. She’s breathing heavy, and I haven’t even touched her: not skin against skin. I place a kiss on her warm belly. She grabs my hair.

  “Don’t touch me,” I growl, rising so she can see the command in my eyes. Kayla releases me and lets her arms fall back down by her sides. “Don’t move unless I tell you to. I’m in control of this. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Manners of a child.

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “Your safe word is?”

  Pausing, she chews her bottom lip and averts her gaze.

  “Love,” she whispers. How the fuck did I miss that in the paperwork? I should know this. Laurel should have told her to change that. It’s too…not a safe word. I’ll make it a point to never push her far enough to use such a word. Why is love her safe word? I’m against love, too, but this is taking it to a whole new level of awkward.

  I shut her disobedient mouth with my own lips. I kiss her, taste her, let my tongue entwine with hers. She kisses me back, but I’m okay with it. I want it. My cock wants it. I sense her arms moving by her sides, but luckily for her she doesn’t make a reach to grab me even though every impulse in her body is telling her to. This is the beginning of her training.

  Breaking from the kiss, I slide her T-shirt up until it’s over her face. Straddling her narrow hips, I fashion a blindfold out of her old, gray T-shirt. Her lips are parted as tiny pants puff out of her mouth. The sight of her nose and mouth exposed, but the top of her face and head covered, causes my skin to prickle. Yes. This is the sight I crave. I kiss her hard and rough. I let my hands wander to her tight pink nipples. I twist them in between my fingers gently. Her tits are the perfect size. They aren’t too big or too small—the perfect handful.

  “Relax,” I say into her mouth. “Feel me.” She nods, even though there is no way she’s going to relax. This is my game and there’s nothing she can do about it except wonder what I’m going to do next. This must be killing her.

  I slide my mouth down her neck, down her sharp collarbone, and end with my teeth on one of her nipples. I roll it between my teeth softly. She moans. I smile.

  I move over to the other one and do the same thing. Her back arches off the bed. She’ll do well in nipple clamps. The excitement of the thought causes my dick even more discomfort. Not now. I kiss down her flat stomach, press a kiss on her belly button, and grab the top of her panties in between my teeth. Using my hands on both sides, I slide them down over her thighs and then off her completely.

  Kayla is breathing erratically with her hands balled around the sheets to keep them by her sides. Her cunt is waxed, smooth, and smells mouthwateringly delicious. She’s soaking wet. I want to taste her, slip my tongue inside her and make her come all over my face. I won’t, though. I kiss the top, where she has a manicured triangle of pubic hair. Grabbing the vibrator with one hand, I use my other to hold her hips down on the bed. I turn it on the medium setting and place the vibrating, rubber ball on the inside of her thigh to let her get used to the sensations. She moans loudly, shaking her head both left and right on the pillow. My nifty blindfold is still in place. It’s a solid job. I can fashion a blindfold out of pretty much anything. It’s a gift.

  “Calm down, Kayla,” I order, rolling the wand toward her wet pussy. “You want this right here?” I ask. I spread her open with my free fingers, and she thrusts her hips at me. I push the ball at her entrance, but not high enough to touch her clit. What I wouldn’t give to be inside her. She’s tight, hasn’t been ridden hard, and hung up wet. That, or she’s never had a real man inside of her.

  “Yes, yes. Please, Dominic! Yes.” She uses my name. More disobedience. I’m not even on first name basis with most of my staff. Kayla will learn her place tonight if it’s the only thing I do.

  “Sir,” I correct her. She moans instead. I roll the ball up until it’s on her clit and rub it up and down. The second it makes contact with her pleasure point she screams out, tilting her chin up toward the ceiling. More cameras have arrived, and one attached to an electronic arm pans on top of the bed to catch the bird’s-eye view of her face in ecstasy. She moves her hips, trying to get herself off, or to get the ball inside her. Nothing is going inside her unless it’s my cock. I’m so turned on listening to her scream and thrash around on the bed that it’s almost unbearable. I reach down and undo my button and zipper and free my dick from the prison my jeans have created.

  Kayla’s feet flex and her toes curl up and her knuckles are white from the tight fists by her sides. I pull the ball away, so it’s a whisper of a touch on her clit now. She tries to force herself against it, her pussy seeking more pressure. To make it even worse, I slow the speed to low, and she growls out in frustration.

  I smile. Orgasm denial. Yes.

  “You want to come, Kayla?” I ask.

  “Yes, Sir.” She pants and fucks the air with her perfect, wet cunt begging for more.

  “Your manners are perfect when you want something.”


  She doesn’t respond verbally. Her body is primed, stunning, ready for me. I slide the button to medium and grind it against her clit one more time, but then immediately pull it away. Her body shakes with frustration.

  “Take off your blindfold,” I order.

  She rips it off, happy to have her sight. She leans up on her elbows to get a better view. She bends her knees and lets her legs fall open, waiting for more.

  “You want to come.” Her hair is even more of a tangled mess. I can’t help but smile. Her gaze is fixated on my face, her eyes so turned on, she’s about to explode. “But I don’t want you to come, because you’re a fucking naughty girl, Kayla.” I rise up on my knees, and with my pants undone my cock hangs out of my fly. “You want to come around my dick?”

  “Please,” she responds, gaze hungry for whatever I want to give. I stroke my cock a few times up and down, while she watches. “Sir. I want to come around you. I want you inside me. Please.” Her words are a plea. She licks her lips and swallows hard.

  I zip up my jeans, lean down on my hands, plant a long, lingering kiss right on her dripping, hungry cunt, trail my lips slowly back up to her mouth, and say, “No.” Right against her mouth.

  I grab the vibrator, toss it into the drawer, in the dirty bin, lock it, pocket the key, and return to the edge of the bed. Kayla is still in the middle, her legs spread open, showing me exactly what I’m missing. I’m sure she’ll rub herself to orgasm the second I leave, but I’m going to tell the camera crew to stay to capture it if she does.

  “I prefer my submissives to be obedient. Not snarky and rude.” I growl. Throwing my shirt back on, I head to the door. “Do I make myself clear?”