How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3)

by Mina Vaughn

  I remembered what it was like moving in with Derek. We’d met when I got my first tattoo—the anchor I got for Harrison. Derek was my artist, and as he worked, I poured out my story to him. He was a sympathetic ear, and he listened to me long after the piece was done. Within a week I’d hired him at the garage to do detail work, after two weeks we were dating, and a month later I was moving in. He was possessive—he’d marked me with that tattoo and from then on, I was his. But I was in need of someone to take care of me, so for a long time, I put up with his control-freak nature and just put myself on autopilot while I grieved. He was a warm body, albeit hard, and I was in desperate need of love and attention.

  I got the attention, but it wasn’t always positive. I remembered the day I decided to break up with him. He’d woken up cranky, per usual, and when he sipped his morning coffee, he spat it out because I put Splenda in it instead of sugar. His gross, brown spittle spread across the table and landed on his newspaper and a photo I was proud to show him. Something from a new shoot. He just threw it all in the trash, ignoring my picture. That was when I realized he treated me like trash. It was enough to make me leave the “comfort” of our relationship.

  I didn’t need him anymore, and I didn’t need Sarah’s well-meaning charity. As for Aston, he was coming along for my ride. I called the shots now.

  A moment later, I spotted Johnny tooling up the street, top down, Aston behind the wheel. His skin was golden in the morning sun, and the light reflected off his aviators, brightening my vision. He looked like some sort of Roman god. I bit my lip and suppressed a full-on grin as he pulled up.

  “Lookin for a ride?” he asked, lowering his sunglasses and giving me a come-hither stare.

  I did my best cheesecake pose with a hand on my hip and my secret smile. “Where ya headed, hot stuff?”

  He exited the car, opened the passenger-side door, and took my hand. “Anywhere my Mistress wants.”

  His voice, that face, his words. My body sprang to life. I wrapped my free hand around his head and pulled it down to mine for a kiss. He tasted like iced coffee. “What? None for me?”

  Aston’s head nodded toward the car’s cup holder, where a box with four different coffees sat. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I had him give me a few.”

  I pecked his lips again. “You are too kind.” Aston nodded and popped Johnny’s trunk, loading my bags into a nearly empty car. “Where are your bags? I just see one.”

  Aston shrugged. “I’ll buy stuff on the road,” he said dismissively. “This car doesn’t fit much.”

  He had a home full of stuff, yet he planned on buying most everything he needed on the road and in Vegas? It was so wasteful.

  “You okay?” he asked as I slid into my seat.

  “Just marveling at the coffee,” I lied. I didn’t want to tell him I was stunned by his careless attitude. Perhaps I’d tell him on the road how I felt about it, but it wasn’t a way to start a trip. I remembered Derek putting me down just before a nice dinner or a weekend away and it would ruin everything. I was concerned, but I wouldn’t pursue it right now. “You drink a lot in a day?”

  “Not exactly,” he answered. Aston pulled down the road and watched as I selected my coffee. “You like it black? Sugar and cream is the fun part,” he said, gesturing to his ultra-light iced coffee.

  “Too much fat,” I answered, and took a sip of the bitter drink. “Plus, I’ve been on the raw food diet lately. I’m cheating just by having coffee at all.”

  “Raw food and no cream and sugar? You’re going to be no fun to eat out with.”

  I yanked the coffee from his hand. “Oh trust me, you’ll love eating out,” I said, giving his thigh a pinch.

  He chuckled. “That kind, Mistress, is fabulous. In fact, I can pull over anytime you like. I’m just saying that, as a restaurateur, a girl on a diet isn’t exactly an ideal companion. But, then again, you’re drinking coffee and it’s not raw. Was your fitness-junkie roommate holding your stomach hostage?”

  I pondered suggesting that he pull over and put his mouth to good use, but I figure I’d save that for midway through the trip when driving got tedious. “I’m the one with the food hang-up. She’s bossy about fitness, instead—she’s a really successful personal trainer. But the bottom line is that I’m a model and I need to be careful on this trip before the pageant.”

  “Careful how?”

  Good question. “I have to maintain my weight so I can fit into my clothes for the pageant. I’ll probably just go easy. Though I do miss cooked food,” I admitted.

  “Eat whatever you want and I’ll buy you new stuff,” he said, waving his hand.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mistress,” he added.

  I adjusted my sunglasses and frowned. He really was wasteful. “We will not buy another coffee until these are gone,” I said in my Domme voice.

  “Pardon?” he asked, craning his head and looking at the three coffees left after I’d made my choice.

  “You’re wasteful. Let’s live a little more humbly on this trip. Don’t forget, I’m trying to take you down a peg.”

  “By making me drink old coffee?”

  “By showing you that you live in excess.”

  He grimaced. “I guess I shouldn’t offer you the bag of pastries I grabbed. Didn’t know which you’d like.”

  The sentiment softened me a fraction. “That’s very kind, but you see my point, right?”

  He nodded.

  I gave him a pat on the leg. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn quick. Mistress will make sure of it.” I left my hand on his thigh and Aston placed his right hand on top of mine and smiled sincerely.

  Once we got out of Rhode Island, miles passed as we drove down I-90 with the wind in our hair and the sun on our heads. Music blasted through the speakers as we headed toward New York, our first planned destination. Aston figured that if we drove for roughly seven to eight hours a day, stopped at night, and spent the next day sightseeing, we’d get to Vegas in about ten days, which was perfect. It would make the trip more fun by breaking up the drive, and we’d see parts of the country we’d never been to. Tonight we would stay just outside of Niagara Falls, and tomorrow we’d go check out the majestic sight together. I looked at the map he’d plotted on his phone and it looked pretty great—Chicago, Lincoln, Denver, Salt Lake City, and then Vegas. Not bad!

  “Have you been to any of the cities we’re going to?” I asked, thinking about all the destinations. “I’ve never been off the East Coast.”

  Aston nodded, still clutching my hand. “Denver. I love Colorado, especially Aspen. Great skiing, excellent nightlife.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes. Of course he’d hit up Aspen’s slopes and après-ski. He was fancy. His sunglasses, I’d noticed, said Prada. Damn. They probably cost more than my entire shoe collection.

  “If we weren’t in a hurry to get to your pageant, I’d take you to California, too. Wine country’s gorgeous, then we’d drive south to LA. I’ve got a lot of friends there, and the shopping is outrageous. Maybe once we’re settled in Vegas I’ll take you to Rodeo and we’ll have a little spree.”

  I frowned, stunned at his arrogance. “I don’t want a spree. Or nightlife in Aspen. That was never my world.”

  Aston didn’t reply. Instead he put on his blinker and took an off-ramp.

  “Rest stop?” I asked.

  He shook his head, then pulled down several windy side streets. The houses were quite far apart, and one street ended up in a dirt road, with nobody living on it. There were signs for a municipal water station, but aside from that, we’d driven about a mile with no inhabitants. Aston pulled over, turned the car off, and opened his door once we’d parked.

  “Aston, what’s going on?”

  Soon he was on my side of the car, opening the door.

  Then he dropped to his knees in the dirt. />
  “I’m sorry I’ve offended you, Mistress,” he said, and my eyes were glued to the knees of his pants, which were already covered in sandy dirt. He was messing up his clothing to apologize to me. “To make amends, I’d like to offer you something.” Aston smirked at me, then licked his lips. “What do you say to taking that break?”

  “What break?” I asked, still surprised by the entire situation. I swung around in the seat so that I could face him.

  He placed his hands on my knees and nudged my legs apart. “Eating out.”

  A thrilling zip of arousal shot through my body as I watched him eye my legs and peek up my skirt. I opened my legs wide in invitation and scooted my body farther out the door. Anyone could just drive up right now and see us. I was so aroused. Aston opened his mouth and licked up my leg, but I put my hand on his head to stop him. He looked up at me with round, startled eyes.

  “Take your clothes off.”

  Aston stood without further prompting and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his delicious abs and muscular pecs. “That better, Mistress?”

  I shook my head. “All of them.”

  “My body is yours,” he replied, and then undid the zipper of his expensive khakis and black boxer briefs, pulled them down, and tossed the clothing into the backseat.

  I stared at his body, the chiseled glory of it. His thighs showed several bruises from our fun in the boathouse. “Aston, why did I command you to remove your clothes?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Because my body pleases Mistress?” he asked with a crooked smile and a wink.

  I frowned. “No. Because you were getting your clothes dirty and that’s wasteful. My Dirty Playboy didn’t have to literally be dirty.”

  “But I was showing you I don’t care about expensive things,” he retorted. “These pants are three hundred dollars, and I would kneel in the dirt for you.”

  I snapped and pointed down, and immediately he dropped to the ground again. “That’s a wonderful sentiment, but it’s the same thing as buying an entire bag of pastries for two people. Treat what you have with care, not as though you could buy a hundred of them. You better not treat Johnny that way,” I lectured. Or me, I wanted to add. He could have hundreds of girls, but he needs to choose to treat me right.

  Head hung low, Aston nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “Just work it off with your tongue.”

  Aston picked his head up and smiled. “That I can do.”

  Running my fingers through his hair, and watching as he realized I was resuming what he’d begun, I started to get aroused all over again. Aston’s nose skimmed my thigh as he kissed his way up my leg. His fingers followed in a hot trail, and soon his thumbs were hooked under my satin thong.

  “May I take these off, Mistress?” Aston asked, hazel-green eyes looking up at me through his thick, dark lashes.

  I nodded, biting my lip, as he pulled them off my body. I was already wet, and could feel my dampness on the panties as they left a warm trail down my leg. Aston noticed this, too, and licked it up.

  “You taste amazing,” he said in a lusty whisper.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from a chef.”

  Aston smiled a wolfish grin and then with no further hesitation, buried his head between my legs. I pushed my skirt up over my hips to watch him lap at my pussy, frenzied and hungry. It was like watching someone lick at a rapidly melting ice-cream cone, frantically trying to prevent a single drop from spilling. He was desperate, starving, and I was enjoying being the source of his hunger.

  Spreading my legs wider, I draped one leg over his shoulder, deepening his access to my body. His long tongue swirled in and out, and soon I was pulling on his hair, pushing his face against me, desperate for the release that was so near.

  And that was before he added his fingers.

  The moment Aston plunged two fingers inside me and hooked them slightly to hit my G-spot, it was all I needed. I shattered with pleasure, tossing my head against the headrest and riding the wave of ecstasy. I felt the sudden urge to push him away, my nerve endings were so sensitive as he continued to slowly tongue away the last bits of moisture. But it felt so good, I just watched, relishing in my relaxed bliss until finally, he pulled away.

  “That was incredible.” I extended my hands to him, and I helped pull him to standing. His knees were dusty, so I handed him a napkin from the pastry cache. He cleaned himself off, then moved to re-dress.

  “I’m tempted to make you drive all the way to Niagara naked,” I said, watching his fine body and taut muscles. “But I’m a nice Mistress. Especially now that I’m satisfied.”

  He chuckled. “I’m starting to wonder if we’ll get slapped with some sort of public indecency fine before this trip is done.”

  I shrugged. “It may be worth it.”

  “You may be right.”

  “Rise and shine, Retro Girl! Today’s your first day of Sarah’s patented Dommercize—whip yourself and your subbie into shape! Ha. You like that, don’t you? Anyway, today’s tip of the day is to see where your desires take you. Sometimes, you may not want to be in complete control and that’s fine! It’s a new relationship, so learn to read each other before trying to teach him anything. Now, let’s whoop YOUR ass! The move for today is the weighted jumping jack. Take a weight, or something that’s roughly between three and five pounds, and do jumping jacks with it. The added resistance will make you work twice as hard. Just make sure your subbie is working twice as hard, too! Love you, girl.”

  Sarah had sent a little video to my phone on the drive, but I only opened it while Aston was taking a bathroom break. It totally cracked me up and set the tone for the rest of the day. This was going to be fun.

  The drive to upstate New York was somewhat uneventful after our little excursion. After I-90, we ended up on 62 North. The road was two lanes per side, so we were able to zip by the occasional slowpoke. There was a ton of roadkill, possibly from the acres upon acres of woods and farmland we passed, so that helped quell my appetite. I didn’t want to eat after seeing and smelling the fifth dead skunk. We played a bit of license plate bingo, but for the most part we just listened to tunes and watched the world go by as we talked. Aston offhandedly mentioned we could see Cooperstown’s National Baseball Hall of Fame, but neither of us were that interested. We were more interested in actually talking, learning more and more about each other with every mile that passed. Aston told me about his nieces and nephews and spoke about them as though they were his own kids. I learned he was an avid Patriots fan. I had no interest in football, but Aston’s excitement was so infectious that I actually considered seeing if we could get some tickets once the season rolled around.

  He was a really cool guy, I began to realize. My heart warmed to him a bit and he became more of a real person as the pieces started to fit together.

  As the day dribbled into night and the sky darkened, we started to plan.

  “Should we stop somewhere nearby or just keep going until we get to Niagara?” I asked.

  “There are probably nicer hotels closer to the touristy stuff, so maybe we could just keep going.”

  I tapped my chin, then looked at the GPS on my phone. “It’s still two hours away. I think I’d rather stay somewhere around here, grab a bite, and head out early tomorrow to see the Falls.”

  Aston’s lip curled a bit as we passed a Howard Johnson and other low-priced hotel chains. “Whatever Mistress wants,” he said, but I knew he wasn’t happy about it.

  “You’re not going to get bed bugs, you snob,” I joked, punching his arm.

  “I guess,” he said, brooding.

  We happened to be on a stretch of road that was populated with plenty of restaurants and hotels, and after about a minute, Aston pulled into a DoubleTree Suites that was adjacent to a grocery store.

  “Do we need a suite?” I asked.r />
  Aston drove into a spot and smiled. “Suite means kitchen. I’m cooking for you tonight.”

  “Make it light,” I said. “Don’t forget I need to squeeze into a wiggle-dress in two weeks.”

  He nodded and grabbed our luggage. “Do you need all of it tonight?”

  “Just the smallest one,” I replied. “The other suitcases have my pinup stuff.”

  He shook his head. “Damn, I should have been a photographer.”

  I gave his ass a pinch. “Maybe I’ll let you do a photo shoot some time on the trip, if you’re a good boy.”

  Aston pulled our luggage and we checked into the hotel. The room wasn’t bad and had a big open kitchen that led out to a living room. The bathroom wasn’t spectacular, but it was updated and had a nice big tub. One bedroom had two queen beds and the other had a king.

  I paused at the choice. I mean, we were sleeping together, but were we going to actually sleep in the same bed on the trip? Sleeping in the same bed implied a relationship that was more than just D/s, but sleeping in separate beds in the same room seemed sort of creepy. Maybe I should take the king to myself, invite him in for a spanking, then banish him to the other bedroom if he didn’t perform to my standards?

  Aston had left both pieces of luggage in the living room while I explored. I decided that it should stay there, for now, until I decided where it should go.

  “I’m going to hit up that grocery store,” Aston said, glancing down at his phone. “Any food allergies or preferences?”

  “Um, keep it under five hundred calories?” I asked with a nervous laugh. I didn’t like talking about dieting with Aston, but this was a model’s way of life.

  He frowned. “Mistress, you know I’ll obey, but how about you just try what I make tonight and if you think it’s too heavy, just take a smaller portion. I really want to wow you.”

  I walked toward him and put my hand on his chest. “You already wowed me,” I reminded him.

  He spread his hands wide. “You have a submissive with many talents,” he said in a low voice. “Why not explore them all on this trip?” He ended the question with a wink and my knees turned to pudding.