by Nelson, P
“You need to get back to a place where you can trust yourself.” Calla was the first one to regain her composure. “Part of the process is making yourself vulnerable and knowing your own limits.”
Too much has happened.” Dillon took a couple of calming breaths. “I wouldn’t even know where to start finding a Domme, and I could never do it here at the club.”
“No, you need to do it in your own space.” Calla’s voice was calm, gentle. “Tiffany took something from you, Dillon. Don’t let her win. Take back your power.” Calla stood up and placed a hand on Dillon’s shoulder. “When you’re ready, I have the perfect person to guide you through your first submission.”
“Thank you, Calla, but I don’t think I can do it.” Dillon placed his hand on top of hers.
“I think you’re capable of doing so much more than you realise.” Calla leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Dillon’s forehead. “I’ve got a scene this evening, so I’ll leave you to it.” She walked out of Flynn’s office and closed the door.
“You don’t look surprised that she has a scene with another man,” Dillon commented to Flynn.
“She’s getting her ass spanked by our resident sadist.” Flynn leaned back in his chair, but he didn’t look overly comfortable. “Master Keith approached me to make sure I was comfortable with him working with Calla.” He stood up. “She’s not my damn sub.”
“But you wish she was,” Dillon added as he followed Flynn out of his office.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” Flynn said as they walked down the industrial corridor leading out to the main floor of the dungeon. “You can get on my case about Calla if you submit to some Domme and sort your head out.” Dillon shrugged as he pushed open the door to the dungeon and the industrial music pumping through the room spilled into the well-lit corridor.
“No deals. I’m going to give you shit about Calla until you finally admit the real reason why you dumped her as your sub.” Dillon was not going to be manipulated by anyone, especially not one of his best friends.
“We weren’t compatible,” Flynn reiterated the reason he had broken Calla’s 30-day training contract.
“Now I call bullshit. You were so fucking compatible, the two of you were setting the dungeon on fire,” Dillon retorted. He watched his friend’s shoulders straighten and his eyes flare. Following Flynn’s line of sight, he saw Calla speaking to Master Keith. “I wonder if he’s going to fuck her.”
“Master Keith doesn’t fuck any of the subs he plays with at the club,” Flynn responded immediately.
“He does fuck them.” Dillon pushed. “Just not here. For a sadist, he’s surprisingly prudish about sex in public.”
“She’s not leaving the club with him,” Flynn ground out.
“So says you.” Dillon had enough of this conversation. He swept a gaze over the members playing at the club until he found a group of subs not wearing collars. Despite what Calla and Flynn believed, what Dillon really needed was a good session with a pliable, giving sub.
“Have fun tonight and think about what Calla said.” Flynn’s voice was earnest.
“Take some advice and worry about your own problems, brother.” Dillon nodded his chin over to where Master Keith was leading Calla up onto a stage. Flynn ignored Dillon and hustled over to where his former sub was taking directions from the club’s hardest-playing sadist. He wondered for a moment whether Calla had chosen to play with him on purpose to get Flynn’s attention. If so, she had done a great job. Flynn was speaking to Master Keith, and it looked as if Calla might not have a scene tonight, after all.
Wandering over to the group of girls, Dillon watched as a flutter went through them. Two he recognised as being friends with Hartley. One of them licked her lips before going down to her knees. She might be just what he needed to get the horrible image of Tiffany’s face screwed up in a maniacal grin out of his head.
&
Hours later Dillon opened the new lock on the door to his loft and pushed it open. He waited a full minute before peeking his head in further. What had started out as a reasonable response to make sure no one was lying in wait for him had turned into a habitual tick. Stepping inside, he closed and locked the door behind him and flicked on the lights. Even though he had thrown out every single candle in the place and made sure there was no residue wax, he could still smell the lingering burning wicks. Tamping down his irrational thoughts, he threw his kit bag on the floor and walked over to the couch.
He had spent the evening carefully torturing a sub to the fullest extent of her pleasure. Dillon didn’t lie to himself as he flung himself onto the cushions of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. It had felt good to take control again. At first, he felt so good he dismissed Calla’s suggestion of submitting to a Domme. There were moments he felt like his old self again. Confident, powerful, completely in tune with his sub’s needs. Unfortunately, there were also moments where he had to stuff down inexplicable bouts of panic. He worried he was too hard on her and whether he was reading her little pants, dilated eyes, and shouts for more properly. Rubbing the heels of his hand over his eyes, he pressed down and breathed deeply a few times.
Dillon knew that if a Dom had come to him with the same thoughts he had tonight, he would suggest taking a break from the lifestyle to sort out his feelings. A Dom responded to his or her sub’s needs. Sure, all the vanilla world thought the sub was some sort of slave to the will of her Master. But really, the Dom’s job was so much harder. He wondered vaguely if he had it in him to be responsible for someone else’s needs. Wetness crept down the sides of his cheeks and into his ears.
“What the fuck?” Dillon sat up on the couch and rubbed his cheeks. He was crying like a high school sophomore because the guy she had been crushing on in math class said he was vegan but really wasn’t. Slumping back down onto the couch, he tried to think of hockey players he liked or the new model Mercedes rumoured to be hitting the streets. But all he could really think about was how the imaginary dude his high school girl-self had a crush on lied to him just to cop a feel behind the bleachers after school. He was losing his fucking mind!
Several minutes and some deep breaths later, he reached into his jeans pocket for his cell. He messaged Calla. She replied right away. He knew she left The Cage early. Flynn had gotten into a small debate about safe practice at the club with Master Keith. It had ended with Flynn being perilously close to looking like an asshole in front of the whole dungeon. Master Keith might be the most hardcore Dom to play at the dungeon, but rumour had it he was also a doctor of some sort, and he never, in all the time Dillon had known him, pushed a sub past her hard limits.
There was no going back now. Calla was going to arrange for a Domme to contact him to go over his hard and soft limits. He didn’t even know what those limits might be. His hands shook as he put his cell phone on the coffee table and stared at his laptop. He hadn’t written another post on his blog since the incident. Dillon had spoken to his agent about a couple of scripts he was interested in, but after the incident he hadn’t gotten back to her.
His life was a fucking mess. For the first time since Tiffany denounced him in the media, he acknowledged she had hurt him. She had gouged his heart out and handed it back to him with her lies and insinuations. He wanted to feel more than anger and betrayal. Maybe this Domme could help him through his shit. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure whether his inner Dom could ever be right again.
&
Dillon wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. It had been three days since he agreed to scene with a Domme of Calla’s choosing. He had no idea what she looked like. They had texted and emailed one another constantly during the past few days, going over each other’s hard and soft limits. Her name was Mistress Thea. He never heard of her, and a quick search on the Internet revealed she wasn’t a pro, but she definitely had experience in her craft.
Calla had asked numerous times whether he wanted her to be here for his scene. Dillon shuddered at the thought of Calla watching him submit t
o Mistress Thea. Even though he was taking her advice, he felt as if he was going against everything in his nature. Surveying his loft, he mentally checked through the items Mistress Thea had requested be set up. She had her own playroom, but Dillon knew he couldn’t do this in someone else’s space. Besides, he still felt as if the loft wasn’t a safe place, and he was hoping tonight would change that for him.
The buzzer on his intercom rang out through the loft making Dillon jump up. He went over to the audio and video feed from the front entrance. He locked onto the grainy black and white picture of a woman wearing a long winter coat. She had large eyes and delicate features. Definitely not the hard-ass Domme he expected. Pressing the intercom button, he spoke quickly.
“Hello, Thea, I’m up in the loft.” He pressed the button to let her into the building. She smiled up at the camera and for a second, he felt his heart stutter. Even though the security feed from the camera was less than complimentary, Mistress Thea’s expression lit up the whole damn video.
“Thanks, I’ll see you up there.” She pushed the door open and disappeared inside his building. Dillon stood staring at where she had appeared on the video monitor and tried to calm his nerves. He was hoping that when he finally got a good look at her, his nerves would calm down. Instead, his heart was racing, and his palms felt even sweatier than before. Like an idiot, he was still standing next to the door as she rang the doorbell. Wiping his hands on his thighs again, Dillon reached for the door to his loft and held his breath. Mistress Thea wore a friendly smile.
“Hi.” Dillon’s brain seemed incapable of producing any more words. She was gorgeous with large blue eyes and a wealth of long, red hair. He wanted to sink his hands into the curly mass and wrap the strands around his dick.
“Hi.” Mistress Thea said she looked past him into the loft. “Should I come in?”
“Yeah, of course.” Dillon stepped away from the door to make room for her. Mistress Thea stepped into his loft, and he quickly shut the door behind her. Dillon watched as she went over to his couch and began undoing the belt around the waist of her jacket.
“Nice place you have here, Dillon.” Mistress Thea remarked as she shrugged out of her coat. He walked up to her and held his hands out.
“I bought it before hipsters and juice bars overtook the neighbourhood.” Mistress Thea handed her coat over, and his hands brushed over her bare fingers. A shock of awareness went through his body, and he felt his cock waking up. “I’ll hang this up.” He walked over to the pegs by the door and tried to collect himself. Mistress Thea was not a sub. She was a fellow Domme, and he would do well to remember that. He couldn’t just order her to her knees and torture her sweet body. She was torturing him. Dammit. This wasn’t going to work.
“Stop whatever it is you’re thinking.” Mistress Thea’s voice rang out from behind him. It held a hint of authority that Dillon was not in the least bit interested in obeying. He turned around and got an eyeful of curvy breasts and hips encased in leather. High-heeled leather boots with laces up the front completed the ensemble. Dillon’s cock was fully engaged now. Mistress Thea’s mouth painted with bright red lipstick curved up into a smile. “You don’t have to fight this, Dillon.” Her voice was soothing. “For one night, you get to let go of your control. Allow me to guide you for this one night only. You deserve to get out of your head.”
Dillon nodded his head and stepped closer to her. When she explained what she wanted to give him like that, it seemed like a reasonable idea to submit to her. He did need to get out of his head. The past few months, let alone the past few weeks had been a complete nightmare.
“I don’t know if I can,” Dillon blurted out the truth. Despite the fact they had planned this entire evening and gone over everything multiple times. He couldn’t shake the queasy feeling in his gut. Mistress Thea’s expression turned hard, and her red lips compressed into a line.
“What is your safe word, boy?” Her voice was hard, commanding. The question sucked the air out of Dillon’s lungs. He had a choice. Submit and see where the night would take him, or pansy out and try to deal with his shit. Mulling over the past week, he knew he couldn’t deal with his shit on his own. It might take him months or even years to talk everything out with Calla, and he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t give up.
“Red, Mistress.” Dillon swallowed down the lump in his throat and fought to keep his eyes open.
“Good boy.” Mistress Thea’s mouth curved into a smile and Dillon’s dick throbbed painfully. The image of those red lips taking his cock into her warm mouth made his balls tighten. “Take your clothes off and fold them. Place them on the couch, right here.” She pointed to a spot next to where she was standing. “After, I want you to get down on your knees, and place both hands behind the back of your head.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Dillon replied and steadied his breathing. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt with both hands, he brought it up and over his head. He quickly folded it before setting it on the ground in front of him. Using his thumb, he flicked the first button on his fly open and unzipped the front of his jeans. He knew that most women found his body attractive, and he wasn’t disappointed in Mistress Thea’s response. Her gaze trailed down his rock-hard abs, to where his hips peeked out the top of his low-slung jeans. With casual grace, he slipped his jeans down his thighs exposing his erection to her gaze before slipping his feet out the bottom.
“It appears as though my boy has a passing interest in the proceedings for the evening.” Mistress Thea raked her gaze over his dick and hard balls. Dillon was pleased as he saw a flush spread over the tops of her breasts as he folded his jeans and picked up his shirt. Walking over to the couch, he set the clothes down before backing up and lowering to his knees. Dillon fixed his gaze on the floor in front of him and placed his hands behind his head. Mistress Thea’s boots rang out on the wooden flooring of the loft as she stepped forward.
“Good boy.” Dillon felt her hand reach out. Her fingers slid through his hair raking across his scalp. The slight bite of pain felt good, and Dillon tried to relax into Mistress Thea’s fingers as she worked them over his head. The thought of her long, red-tipped fingers playing with his cock and balls had his dick jumping in excitement. Moving behind him, Mistress Thea trailed her hands down his back, over his taut muscles. Dillon felt the flick of her tongue against his neck and nearly groaned as she slid it all the way down his back.
“Despite knowing what’s to come, you’re still nervous, boy.” Mistress Thea sighed loudly and stood in front of Dillon. She sat down on her haunches and spread her legs wide, the tight leather skirt she wore rode up her thighs. “Can you see my pussy, boy?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, Mistress.” Dillon replied as he got a glimpse of a perfectly shaved pussy.
“Give me your hand.” Mistress Thea instructed. Dillon removed one of his hands from the back of his head and placed it in Mistress Thea’s outstretched palm. “Good boy.” She commented as she gripped his wrist. “Tell me what you feel.” Mistress Thea guided his hand down to her pussy and let him feel her wetness.
“Your pussy is wet and swollen for me.” Dillon had to clear his throat a couple of times to get the words out.
“Yes, I want your cock and your balls, boy.” Mistress Thea pulled his hands away before he could push any fingers inside her. “Know that I want you, and I’m going to take good care of you. Now, taste my pussy and tell me you love it.”
Dillon opened his mouth obediently as she pushed his fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around his digits revelling in the sweet tang of her pussy. Pulling his fingers out of his mouth, he stared directly into her eyes. “I’m hungry for more, Mistress.” She smiled and stood up.
“You’ll have a chance to eat your fill soon enough.” Mistress Thea stood back for a moment. “Get up onto the table, on your hands and knees and await my next instructions.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Dillon rose to his feet and walked over to the table where Tiffany had laid
herself out the night she tried to ruin him. The image was branded into his brain, and he blinked several times trying to dispel it.
“I expect to be obeyed, boy.” Mistress Thea’s hand cracked against his ass cheeks, and Dillon jumped. She might look delicate, but Mistress Thea knew how to spank a man. Dillon placed a knee on the table he had lowered to accommodate his height in the kneeling position as per Mistress Thea’s earlier instructions.
“Good boy, up you get.” Mistress Thea encouraged, and Dillon felt a moment of levity pass through him. He felt a bit ridiculous up here and wondered whether he was going to get anything out of this. A quick look at his erect cock standing at attention for Mistress Thea’s attentions made him realise that at least a part of him was enjoying this.
“Let’s try and get you out of that head of yours.” Mistress Thea commented as she walked around the table and inspected his positioning. She ran her hands up his thighs and he felt her nails graze his balls. A tingling feeling lit up his spine, and he arched his back to get more of her touch.
“Bad boy.” Mistress Thea spanked him again. “I can see I have a naughty little subbie on my hands tonight.”
“Maybe, Mistress.” Dillon felt a grin stretch across his face. He liked to play big, bad Dom with naughty subs at the club. This was something he understood, and he felt himself relax a bit.
“As agreed we will use the stoplight system tonight, boy. What is the stoplight system?” Mistress Thea asked as she rubbed his back and ass cheeks.
“Red is for stop, yellow is to pause, and green to continue,” Dillon recited.
“Good boy.” Mistress Thea praised. “I’m going to make you earn your punishment tonight, Dillon. No restraints while you receive your spanking.” She caressed one of his ass cheeks, before letting her nails bite into his flesh. “I will start with twenty smacks to each of your ass cheeks before I continue with the crop. There will be no counting aloud this evening; I want you to enjoy the pain.” Mistress Thea leaned onto the table and whispered in his ear. “Where are you, sub?”