Not Your Damn Dom (Denial Book 2)

by Amy Valenti

  And there I went again, pining over the Dom I didn’t have—

  A warm body pressed me against the wall, my face to the opening I’d been watching the dungeon action through, my breasts, belly and thighs crushed against the wooden surface. “Enjoying the scenes, pretty girl?”

  My knees went weak with relief and arousal simultaneously. “You came for me, Sir?” I murmured, quietly enough to not disrupt the closest scenes to the partition.

  “Damn right I did,” he growled in my ear. “Jay’s lucky he doesn’t have a broken nose. You were really gonna scene with those two when you’re my girl?”

  I closed my eyes, my smile stretching my face. “I was hoping I’d get a better offer, Sir.”

  He kissed my neck, still pressing me against the wall. “You got one. And if the answer is ‘no’ I need to hear it right fucking now.”

  “Yes, Sir. Yes, yes, yes…”

  He grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and tugged my head back, pulling me back against him simultaneously. “If I had a collar with me I’d put it on you right now. As it is, you’re gonna have to wait until I choose one suitable for you.”

  My pussy damp, my nerve endings singing, I smiled up at him. “The chain and padlock you used before are in my purse, Sir.”

  “Hmm. You put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you, pretty girl?”

  He stroked my throat thoughtfully for a moment before releasing me. “Get your temporary collar and present it to me.”

  I’d checked my jacket and purse when I paid my cover charge, keeping only enough money on me to buy a couple of drinks. “I’ll be right back, Sir.”

  On slightly unsteady legs, I walked rapidly down the corridor. Just out of sight of Spencer, Jay and Owen were lounging against the wall.

  “Congratulations, Alex. Looks like you landed yourself a Dom.”

  I slowed for long enough to thank them. I was about to apologise for leaving them with no one to play with, but Owen put a finger over my lips. “I’m guessing since you’re coming this way, you have an order to carry out. Go take care of it before Spencer decides we’re to blame for distracting you.”

  I grinned and picked up my pace again, heading back to the cloakroom and handing over my ticket, grabbing the collar, padlock and key, then checking the bag in again.

  Quickly, I returned to Spencer’s side. He was watching something going on in the dungeon and didn’t immediately acknowledge my presence, so I sank down to the floor on my knees, the ‘collar’ held up to him in both hands.

  He made me wait until my arms ached, then turned to take the chain from me. “Good girl.”

  I set my hands behind my back and waited, resisting the urge to rub my cheek over his leg like a cat scent-marking its territory. My Sir. My Dom.

  He turned the key in the padlock and disengaged it, then draped the chain around my neck. “Stand.”

  I got up as gracefully as I could and offered my throat to him, gazing into his eyes. He stared back, possessive and lustful, then dropped his gaze to the chain, fastening it around my neck the way he had months ago.

  The padlock clicked shut and my pussy clenched. I was his. At least for this night. If it was another temporary arrangement, I didn’t want to know until the scene had finished.

  “Much better.” Spencer grabbed the trailing links of chain and pulled me into a deep, controlling, territorial kiss. I moaned into his mouth, needing him. Needing everything.

  “We’re going in there, and we’re gonna sort this shit out for good. By the end of tonight, you’re gonna know exactly where we stand, and it’ll be your choice whether to accept it. Understand?”

  I nodded, nervous and ecstatic at the same time. Did he mean what I thought he meant? But it couldn’t be anything else. Spencer knew what I wanted, and he was anything but cruel. He wouldn’t play with my emotions on this one. Not when we’d almost broken up tonight.

  I let him tow me into the dungeon by the makeshift collar and leash. He gave me very little slack, and I liked it that way, even when it almost made me stumble over his heels.

  A St. Andrew’s cross was vacant now, and he told me to stand in front of it. “Strip down to your underwear.”

  Spencer

  I watched her comply, her hands shaking, her face still carrying a trace of wonder. She’d lost all hope that I’d come for her. Ten minutes more, and she would have been scening with Jay and Owen when I’d found her, and I would have had to beat the crap out of them both.

  Okay, maybe I wouldn’t. But I’d have thought about it. A lot.

  My beautiful submissive stood proudly next to the St. Andrew’s cross, her attention squarely on me despite the Dom delivering a hell of a spanking with a paddle not far away. I hoped like hell I would never fail her.

  “Kneel for a moment, pretty girl.” I brushed a hand over her face as I spoke.

  She nuzzled my hand for a moment before she complied. Maybe a pet play session would be in order at some point, though that wasn’t my focus tonight. Tonight was all about claiming her, not making her into something else.

  Owen sauntered into the dungeon with a sports bag full of toys. I had to admit, I was grateful to Jay for offering. I’d been too preoccupied with actually getting to Alex to think about what I’d do with her once I found her. I’d left my toys at home.

  “Enjoy,” he murmured. “You’re a lucky guy.”

  Despite my annoyance at the way they’d moved in on my girl, I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. I know.”

  What was in the toy bag? I crouched with my back to Alex and unzipped it, then began to sort through the items within.

  As soon as I saw the string and clothespins, an idea began to form in my mind. She’d likely be confused as to what I was doing as I laid my trap—unless she’d been watching videos on the Internet. Then she might already know what I had in mind.

  I also took out a short vibrating crop and checked the battery requirements. The batteries themselves were stored in a separate partition of the bag in neat little organised cases, much like my own batteries. Jay was as much a neat freak about his toy bag as I was. I’d have to mess a few things up later, just to screw with him a little.

  Once my preparations were complete, I took the clear plastic baggie of clothespins and the ball of string across to Alex.

  “Stand up, pretty girl.”

  She rose as I shrugged off my shirt, her gaze travelling across my skin hungrily. I tried to ignore the stirring of my cock and told her, “Put your back against the cross and spread your legs so I can restrain you.”

  Alex shot a brief glance over to the panels in the walls, where voyeurs peeked through at the various dungeon scenes. I wasn’t sure if she was looking for Owen and Jay or just nervous to have an audience, but I slapped her outer thigh in reprimand. “Today, girl.”

  She immediately got back on track, widening her stance so I could secure her in place with rope. Once she was tethered, she breathed deeply, adjusting to the position and the feeling of being bound.

  I tied rope loops around each of her wrists, then made sure the ropes’ ends were securely fastened to the upper branches of the X-frame. Then I stepped back to admire her.

  She’d worn red underwear tonight, and it was staying on until we got home. I’d likely strip her naked some other night, but tonight the only one who got to feast his eyes on her nipples and cunt was me. The material was thin and it was easy to find one of her hard nubs through her bra cups.

  “Enjoying yourself so far?” I asked her.

  Alex nodded. “I’m a little confused about that though, Sir,” she admitted, nodding towards the baggie of clothespins.

  I grinned. “Good. Then you’ll be in for a surprise.”

  I gave her nipple a firm twist, then stepped back as she gasped with the pain. God, I’d missed her reactions.

  Grabbing the baggie, I shook out the first clothespin and used it like a nipple clamp, catching her flesh in the pin’s grip through her bra. It definitely wasn’t a
s intense as the clover clamps I’d used on her during our last scene, so I was reasonably confident she could take it.

  After repeating the process with her other nipple, I pondered the route I wanted my line of clothespins to take. Anchoring the end of the ball of string to one of them, I then clipped it to the skin of her thigh. It had a mean pinch, but she wasn’t in too much discomfort—yet. After that, I wound the string up her thigh, then her belly, her ribs, the underside of her breast, clipping it in place with clothespins the whole way.

  Alex watched with a slight smile as I unclipped the clothespin around one of her nipples, threaded the string through it and put it back. “I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

  I kept to my task, working the string down over her other breast and lower, in a symmetrical pattern to the first side. Once I was done, I wound out a little extra string, enough that I could set the ball on the floor without disrupting my handiwork. Then I reached for the vibrating crop.

  I’d need to wait until the clothespins were off to really use it, but it wasn’t impact I was seeking to deliver right now. I switched on the vibrate function and Alex’s eyes widened, her body suddenly at attention. Amused, I ran the crop up the inside of one thigh, then the other, and she closed her eyes in frustration, swallowing hard.

  “You think I’m gonna give you what you need here, in this dungeon?” I spoke only loud enough for her, stimulating her skin with vibrations. Alex whimpered, shifting slightly in her bonds.

  “Do you think you deserve that, after the way you walked out on me?”

  Alex lowered her head in defeat. “No, Sir. I don’t.”

  I had no intention of leaving her wanting here. There was no fucking way I was passing up this chance to claim what was mine in public. But she didn’t need to know that, not for sure. “Good girl.”

  Resting the tip of the vibrating crop over the peg clamping her left nipple, I murmured, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Alex shuddered as I teased her with vibrations around the pegs, keeping her eyes shut. She was open to anything I wanted to give her with perfect trust, perfect need.

  I silenced the whispering of the paranoid voice in the back of my mind. All it took was reliving the moment she’d walked out on me. I was more afraid of it happening again than of anything else.

  Returning the crop to her thighs, I delivered several short, sharp taps to the inside of one, then the other. Alex smiled at the sting. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Are you quite sure I want you to enjoy this, pretty painslut?”

  She opened her eyes and I attempted to stare her down, but whatever she saw in my expression made her smile even wider. “Pretty sure, Sir.”

  I had to admit, she had me there. I’d have to try that one again when the novelty of scening with her had worn off.

  Without any warning, I yanked on the bottom of the string that I’d set in place. The displacement of the string dislodged the clothespins, which snapped away from her skin and left beautiful red, angry marks in their places.

  Alex yelped, her lips parted, her eyes widening, then closing as the pain hit her. I drank in her shaky breaths, the way her hair fell into her face.

  “You’re pure evil, Sir.”

  “Just be glad there wasn’t one on your clit,” I advised. “Do I need to gag you, or will you stop giving me damn commentary?”

  Alex closed her mouth obediently, laughter and lust in her eyes.

  “Good. You’re learning.”

  Now I had the pins out of the way, I could use the crop harder, in more places. I turned off the vibration function for the time being and hit the upper curves of her breasts that peeked from the top of her bra, then the outsides of her thighs, then her biceps, striking where the mood took me, never hitting the exact same place twice, until she was rosy red and her breathing had hitched. Then, setting down the crop, I rummaged for the Wartenberg pinwheel I’d seen. After a quick check that it was sterile using one of the wipes in the toy bag, I advanced on her again.

  “Wha—?” She realised at the last minute that she was under an order of silence and shut up, but from the expression on her face she knew she was in trouble. I ran the pinwheel over the tops of her breasts first, agitating the soft skin with a myriad of little pinpricks. She caught her breath in a way that made me bite back a grin, and pushed her torso out in a wordless invitation to continue.

  I went harder, aiming to make her gasp, to leave indentations in her skin—almost enough to break it, but not quite. “Stay still, pretty painslut.”

  Alex

  The torture device Spencer was holding left tiny pockmarks on my breast, the already warm skin now stinging gloriously. I tried not to press up against the instrument and just enjoyed it, but when he trailed it down my ribs on one side, then the other, I hissed through my teeth, trying not to wriggle. It hurt less, but kind of tickled, and my ticklish streak wasn’t something I particularly wanted my sadistic partner to know.

  From the look on Spencer’s face, he’d noticed and was taking note of it for next time, though he had other things on his mind for now. I mentally cursed and wondered if I could get feathers and tickling fingers onto my limits list somewhere…

  The spiky wheel scratched-bit-tickled across my hip, across the edge of my panties, then down my outer thigh, back onto the skin he’d treated with his crop. I gasped at the change in sensation, the pain pooling into pleasure between my thighs. I’d been wet before he’d even got to the club, just from watching all the naughty goings-on, but since Spencer had tied me to the X-frame my panties had been practically dripping.

  And he’d barely done anything compared to his last scene. Was it that I liked being watched by other people? Maybe that was part of it.

  After a few minutes more with the spiked wheel, which he mercifully kept away from my pussy, he picked up the vibrating crop and switched it back on. “You tell me when you get close, understand?”

  Oh, God. This was gonna be torture. I could see it in the gleam of his eyes.

  He pressed the vibrating section of the toy right against my clit, and my body flooded with need, my toes curling, my muscles taut within just a few seconds. My breathing fast and light, I bucked against the crop, attempting to control the rhythm and intensity of the vibrations.

  “Look at me,” Spencer commanded, and the imperative in his voice just sent me closer to the edge.

  I gazed into his intense brown eyes and tried to pull myself away from the climax for long enough to whisper, “I’m so close, Sir…”

  For a couple more moments, he watched me suffering and quivering against the crop, enjoying my tormented state.

  Then he switched the damn thing off and pulled it away from my clit.

  “No!”

  I was pretty sure several of the other players turned to look at me, the plea had been so loud. I blushed despite myself.

  “What was that, pretty girl?” Spencer inclined his head closer to mine, his eyes dancing. “I don’t think anyone heard you.”

  I bit back the desire to call him a million nasty names and tried looking forlorn and helpless instead. “Please, Sir, get me off? I want you so much…”

  He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me into a kiss, pressing me back against the X-frame, letting me feel the hardness of his cock against my clit. I would have done anything for the chance to come, but he didn’t even give me the opportunity to grind against him before he stepped back.

  “I’m not done with you yet.”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the thudding of my pulse between my thighs, the way my pussy squeezed around nothing every time he hurt me. This was what I’d been craving for weeks. Instead of willing my orgasm to crest, I resolved to enjoy his cruel denial instead.

  Something tapped back and forth between my spread legs, hitting one thigh, then bouncing back to hit the other, repeating several times fast and hard. The pain didn’t even register until a couple of seconds in, but then it hit me like a wave of syrup, hitti
ng and clinging like a sticky residue, refusing to subside.

  My shocked cries made Spencer laugh, and that was just even hotter. I stared down at the thin black rod he’d used to hit me.

  “Acrylic cane, pretty painslut. Just thin and springy enough to do the job.” Spencer ran it backwards and forwards over the seam between my legs, my thong clinging to my skin while the cane rubbed the sensitive area in between.

  “Sir,” I whispered, begging him with my eyes and voice alike while he kept applying that delicious friction…

  “I’m not sure you deserve to come tonight.”

  My breath whooshed out in a sob. I’d die if I didn’t come soon—I was too desperate to last. I was shaking, my knees weak, my body primed.

  He took the cane away a second before I would have gone over the edge.

  And hit me on the inner thighs again—three agonising taps on each side.

  I might have screamed. I definitely came when Spencer slipped his fingers into my panties and pressed down hard on my aching clit.

  My knees gave out and I sagged in my restraints, my wrists chafed by the rope around them, Spencer’s strong arms holding me up, spasms of pleasure radiating from my pussy out to every tiny cell in my extremities. He laughed against my neck, nuzzling, kissing, then nipping hard as he plunged his fingers into me—two, then three.

  “Ah, fuck!” I called out to the ceiling, my second climax arching my back, stretching me more effectively than a session of yoga.

  “Who do you belong to?” He didn’t stop fucking me or pressing on my clit, forcing a third orgasm out of me just when I thought I was through.

  “You, Sir, you, you!”

  He growled his approval into my ear. “Damn right. You have one damn Dom, and I’m it.”

  I slumped against the St. Andrew’s cross, quivering with aftershocks as he pulled his fingers free of my satisfied pussy. “Taste,” he ordered, pressing his fingertips against my lower lip.

  Obediently, I sucked his fingers clean, recovering enough to make it into a tease, looking into his eyes and flicking my tongue against his skin. His hard-on pulsed against my thigh but he didn’t take me, to my disappointment.