Then he picked up where he left off with the riding crop. His strokes came from everywhere, keeping her guessing where he’d strike next, even a few of them lightly flicking her clit and making her jump as well as gasp with pleasure.
He stopped and she wondered where the next blows would land.
Then, they didn’t.
She had a few more seconds to wonder about this when she felt something pressed against her labia, stroking up and down. She groaned and tried to lift her hips but the rope held her down.
He laughed. “Pet likes this. It think pet will like it even more in a minute.” Whatever it was, it wasn’t the same vibrator he’d used on her before. It felt larger, like a dildo. He slowly pressed it forward, deeper, back and forth until it slid between her lips and she let out a moan of pleasure at the feel of its size stretching her. He took his time fucking her with it until it was deeply buried inside her.
“How’s my pet?”
She had to lick her lips to speak. “Green, Sir,” she whispered, not trusting her own voice.
He chuckled. She felt him holding the dildo with one hand, but sensed he changed position.
Then he smacked her with a different paddle, definitely a heavier one than the first one he’d used, but kept the strokes on the pleasant side of pain.
And he started fucking her with the dildo.
Pleasure and pain danced together in her body, her mind unable to separate the two and finally deciding it didn’t matter. She moaned as he stroked harder and faster with the dildo, the strokes from the paddle also increasing in strength until she didn’t know if her moans were from pleasure or pain.
Then he hit a switch and the dildo turned into a buzzing vibrator and he stopped with the paddle.
She felt like her body would come unglued. Her back arched, straining against the ropes as the orgasm ripped through her.
“That’s it, pet,” he said, his stern tone only increasing her pleasure. “Come for me.” He fucked her hard with the vibrator, relentlessly, until tears rolled down her face from the force of the climax shattering her body.
Then came the strokes from another implement. “Take these cane strokes, pet. Take them for me.”
The hand holding the vibrator slowed down, but each slash from the cane left a streak of fire across her already tender ass. She lost count how many cane strokes he gave her, but she cried out in pain at each one.
Then he rolled out his next trick—he turned up the speed on the vibrator and began fucking her hard with it as he delivered several more excruciatingly painful cane strokes to the backs of her thighs. The pain kept her climax at bay, barely, until suddenly the cane was gone and only the vibrator was left, fucking her hard and deep.
A loud cry rolled out of her. She clawed at the air with her hands, the ropes keeping her in place so Tony could continue fucking her with the vibrator.
“Such a good girl,” he cooed. “Look at how hard you’re coming for me.”
She sobbed as another orgasm bubbled up from deep inside her. Tears ran down her face and she was glad for the blindfold hiding the world from her. Her existence had shrunk to his voice, his hands, and pleasure so mind-bogglingly strong it bordered on pain.
He yanked the vibrator from her, making her yelp in surprise as he started spanking her with his bare hand again. No quarter given, the hard slaps shook her entire body and left her brain scrambled as her greedy cunt and throbbing clit begged for more from the vibrator.
Somewhere, she still heard the vibrator buzzing, but the pain in her ass had started outweighing the residual pleasure from the orgasms. She twisted, sobbing, squirming, and unable to escape the blows.
Then he rubbed the vibrator up and down her pussy again. “Is this what you want, pet? Is this what you’re missing?”
“Yes, Sir!” she sobbed, trying to arch into it as he kept it tantalizingly out of reach.
“You have to pay the piper, pet. Pleasure doesn’t come without pain.”
She felt a hard, deep, thuddy blow on her ass that made her cry out. The vibrator returned. Another blow, on her other ass cheek, and more vibration. Then he slowly inserted the vibrator, timing his thrusts with it, hard and deep ones, with each blow from the newest implement.
“The infamous silicone spoon, pet. Let’s see how much you like it.”
The vibrator clicked into a higher speed.
He fucked her hard and fast with it, each stroke earning her another hit with the spoon until reality upended yet again. She let out a loud, long cry when the climax exploded through her. She fucked herself back against the pleasure and the pain until he delivered a crescendo of strokes inside and out before the spoon disappeared.
Leaving only the vibrator in her pussy on high.
She felt him stand behind the bench, the denim of his jeans rough against her sore ass, his hip pressed between her thighs and holding the vibrator inside her. His fingers sunk into her hips just below where the rope had her immobilized. “Fuck it, pet. Fuck that cock.”
She frantically rocked herself against it and him, his hands helping her, pulling her, the toy bottoming out at the bottom of each stroke and making her scream in pleasure as one more orgasm took her breath away until she lay shuddering on the bench, all strength gone.
His body disappeared. Then the vibrator was gently removed from her, and she heard it shut off.
He pulled the skirt of her dress down over her ass and moved to her head where she still sobbed, unable to process anything.
He kissed her forehead. “Color, pet,” he whispered in her ear.
“Green, Sir.”
His lips pressed against her forehead again, lingering for several long, tender seconds. “Such a good girl. You made me very proud.”
This brought a new round of tears she couldn’t and didn’t want to understand. She lay there while he quickly worked to untie her. She felt him drape a light throw over her. “Don’t move yet, pet.”
Not that she could if she’d wanted to.
He disappeared for only a moment before returning again. His arms enveloped her, helping her stand, then scooping her up, blanket and all, when her knees gave out.
“I’ll get the bench for you, Tony,” she heard Leah softly say somewhere to their left. “You take care of her.”
“Thanks.”
He carried her, still blindfolded, through the play space. She draped her arms around his neck and kept her face buried against his chest. He smelled warm and musky, no cologne, just laundry detergent and soap and shampoo.
She felt him turn and sit and realized he’d carried her over to the couches.
“It’s all right, pet,” he whispered against the top of her head. “We have plenty of time. Take as long as you need.”
Curled in the safety and warmth of his embrace, she cried.
* * * *
Tony closed his eyes and kept his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Jesus, please don’t let me have gone too far!
She’d have some nice marks. Already, angry red welts and bruises from the crop and cane striped her ass and thighs. And the silicone spoon was guaranteed to leave her with deep-tissue bruising she’d feel for days.
Some submissives didn’t like marks. Some craved them. She’d have to tell him her preference on the back end of this, once she’d recovered. Although he had been careful not to mark her anywhere it would be readily visible, unless she had some bruising from where her wrists had pulled against the leather cuffs.
The crying didn’t shock or surprise him. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction from some people. In fact, some submissives used scenes to induce cathartic crying they normally couldn’t achieve any other way.
Eyes closed, he listened to the sounds of the dungeon around them. People talking, the music, the sounds of other scenes underway.
All he cared about was currently nestled in his arms, her tears turning to soft sniffles.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much fun in a scene. If they’d b
een at home in his private playroom he would have used a strap-on to fuck her while using another vibrator pressed against her clit.
I hope she gives me another chance to do just that.
He also hoped she turned out to be a submissive who liked marks. He could have easily kept her flying all night, balancing her on that fine razor’s edge between pleasure and pain.
He let his mind wander, about how nice it would be to sink his cock into her while she was tied to a bench, or to let her have her aftercare while sucking on his cock.
Stop it, Daniels. That’s way too far, way too fast.
She eventually quieted in his arms. “Ready for the blindfold to come off, pet?”
She nodded.
He didn’t correct her over not speaking. He suspected she was still deep in subspace. With one hand he carefully unbuckled it and watched as she slowly blinked against the light.
Her hazel eyes slowly focused on his as he stared down into her face. The urge to lean in and kiss her was great.
She looked vulnerable, sated.
Beautiful.
“How’s my pet?” he softly asked.
She slowly blinked and nodded a little.
He smiled. Yep, she was definitely still deeply out of it. “Good?”
She nodded a little, then closed her eyes and snuggled against him again.
He rested his chin on top of her head and breathed in deeply. She smelled like floral shampoo and sex, with just a hint of leather from the collar and cuffs she still wore.
I could get used to that scent.
He almost didn’t hear her when she finally spoke. “How long did we play?”
“Thirty, maybe forty minutes.”
“Okay.”
He stifled a chuckle. She sounded like a sleepy little girl with a full tummy.
I could get used to that sound.
* * * *
She felt like a deep-sea diver slowly making her way to the surface. Eventually, the sounds of the dungeon finally penetrated her cocoon and she opened her eyes again and looked around. It felt like she’d been gone for hours, but around them not much had changed from when he’d blindfolded her, except different people now occupied play equipment.
When she looked up at him again, his green eyes searched her face. “How we doing, pet?”
“Green, Sir,” she said.
The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Feeling okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” Except that I don’t want to leave your arms.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe and secure, so cared for.
Protected.
“You feel ready to sit up so I can go get you a bottle of water?”
She wanted to say no, to stay curled up there forever, but she pulled the throw around her and nodded.
He helped her sit up and waited until she was settled again to get up and retrieve two bottles of water from a cooler by the buffet table. She didn’t take her eyes off him the entire time, longing for the solid warmth of his body to once again anchor her to reality.
Already the experience felt hazy in some ways, like a fading dream. She suspected she’d feel it in her ass in the morning, but for now all the sensations had blended together into a delicious warmth encompassing her entire backside and pussy.
He returned to sit beside her and handed her one of the bottles after opening it for her. She didn’t think she was thirsty until she drained half the bottle in just a few swallows.
He draped an arm around her. “Better?”
She nestled against his side. “Yes, Sir.”
“I think Tilly, Loren, and Leah are dying to come over and check on you.”
“Why don’t they?”
He laughed. “They know the way things work. You don’t harsh someone’s subspace buzz. I’ll wave them over when you’re ready to receive visitors.”
She snickered at that. “Thank you, Sir.”
“No, thank you, pet. That was a lot of fun.” He kissed the top of her head. She tipped her face to his and wished he’d kiss her, really kiss her, but instead his eyes met hers. “I hope you still like me tomorrow.”
“I’m sure I will, Sir.”
“You say that now. I apologize in advance for the marks if they freak you out.”
“They won’t freak me out.” In fact, she was curious to see what they would look like in the morning. She was used to always having bruises somewhere on her body. First growing up and roughhousing with her older brother, then as puberty hit and she grew congenitally klutzy. If she didn’t bang into something at least once a day, it was a miracle.
It took another twenty minutes for the brain fuzz to dissipate enough she felt ready to talk to her friends. But she still wanted to stay nestled against Tony’s side on the couch.
He waved to the three women. They hurried over, smiles on their faces.
“Well?” all three of them asked at once.
Shayla laughed. “I’m okay.”
“Did you have fun?” Loren asked.
She smiled up at Tony. “That would be a definite yes.”
They chatted for a few minutes until an unexpected yawn hit her.
Tony chuckled. “And I think that signals the beginning of the end of our evening.”
Come to think of it, she was really tired.
He stood and held out a hand to her. He helped her up, making sure she was steady on her feet. “Are you going to be okay driving home?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so, Sir. I’m okay.”
She followed him over to his things, where he dug the vibrator out. He’d wrapped it in a towel and stuck it in a side pocket of the bag. “I’ll be right back. Going to go wash this off.”
While he was gone, she folded the throw and placed it on the bag. She wasn’t sure where he wanted it. He returned a few minutes later. After saying their good-nights to everyone, they went out to the parking lot. He locked his things in the trunk and then walked her over to her car.
“You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Do you want me to follow you home?”
“I’ll be okay, Sir.”
He motioned for her wrists. He unbuckled the leather cuffs and then engulfed her in a hug she never wanted to end. “I had fun tonight, pet. I hope you did, too.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head.
“I did, Sir. Thank you.”
“Wear the collar home. And text me as soon as you get home so I don’t worry.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t forget to text me when you wake up tomorrow and let me know how you are.”
“I won’t forget, Sir.”
“What’s your afternoon look like tomorrow? Any plans?”
“No, Sir.”
“Then wear your collar while you’re at home. Unless you’re in the shower or go out or something like that.”
“Yes, Sir.” He took her keys from her and unlocked her door, holding it open for her and waiting until she was safely inside and had found her glasses.
“Drive safe, pet. And good night.”
“Good night, Sir.”
He closed the door and watched her drive away.
It wasn’t until she was halfway home she realized he still had her thong. She giggled at the thought, her hand going up to the collar. When she got home, another large yawn hit her as she tried to unlock her door.
Realizing she wasn’t long for the land of the conscious, she quickly texted him that she’d made it home. She pulled off her dress and crawled into bed, crashing almost immediately into sleep before her head hit the pillow.
Chapter Eighteen
Shayla awoke from a sleep of the dead a little after three o’clock Sunday afternoon. When she rolled over, she groaned at the aches in her muscles. When she sat up, her bruised ass caught her attention.
She also felt a not-unpleasant ache in her pussy from where Tony had used the vibrator on her.
Wow. If last night was even a fra
ction of what other submissives felt on a regular basis, she could easily understand why they did it. Hell, she’d readily volunteer to do that again anytime.
As long as it was with Tony.
She still wasn’t sure she could wrap her mind around why the heavy masochists did what they did, but Tony had clearly driven home the point that not all pain was painful…some of it was damn pleasurable.
And subspace was a blessed place to escape from reality.
With another groan she stood and headed to the bathroom. When she walked in she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The leather collar was still buckled around her neck.
I forgot to take it off.
Then she stopped that thought. No, she hadn’t forgotten. Tony had instructed her to wear it at home unless she needed to take a shower or go out for errands. Her fingers stroked the leather, remembering how it felt the night before when he’d hooked a finger through the D-ring on the front and pulled her head up so he could look into her eyes.
A hot flush ran through her body. She’d had the best orgasms of her life last night, in front of a room full of mostly strangers, with a man she barely knew who hadn’t even taken off his clothes.
Wow.
She knew she’d do it again in a heartbeat, and not for any story, either.
She’d loved it.
Turning, she looked at her ass in the mirror. Instead of chiding herself for her weight, she marveled at the marks there. The imprint of a riding crop was clearly visible in several places, as were his handprints, and several stripy cane marks. She imagined the round, isolated marks were from the wicked silicone spoon. The marks ranged in color from pinkish red to beautiful shades of purple and blue.
A smile curled her lips.
She ran her fingers over the welts and remembered how he had skillfully mixed pain and pleasure, taking her up the scale to a point where she’d thought she’d have to code before he applied the pleasure of the vibrator.
By the time he’d finished with her, she knew she wouldn’t safeword unless he absolutely didn’t stop the pain. The reward for holding out each time was too great.
Snickering, she remembered his playful warning to her the other night in the restaurant, of how easy it was to rewire a brain to scramble pain and pleasure together.
The Denim Dom (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 18