The Art of Domination

by Elizabeth Noble

  Pain and Pleasure Book 2: The Art of Domination

  By Elizabeth Noble

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Noble

  ISBN 9781646560097

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * *

  I’d like to thank my beta readers, Ann, Lisa, and Mickie Ashling. A big Thank You to JMS Books for publishing my little tale.

  This book is for everyone who enjoys a little bit of kink in their lives.

  * * *

  Pain and Pleasure Book 2: The Art of Domination

  By Elizabeth Noble

  Taren Murdoch was, at heart, a caretaker and protector. His profession evidenced his drive to protect. He was an investigator for the Idaho State Police. That instinct also made him an excellent Dom. It wasn’t everyone he sought to gratify, however. In fact, there was only one man who Taren worried about pleasing, his husband, and sub, Ian.

  At the time Taren didn’t realize it, but the day he pulled a half frozen, hungry, scared twenty-something kid out of a wrecked car during a blizzard was the most significant day of his life. The ironic thing was Taren had lived in Idaho all of two weeks and Ian had been born here. If anyone should’ve been stranded in that blizzard it was Taren.

  What started as a rescue ended as a first date. Two years later Taren married the guy. Ian was not his usual type, but wasn’t that the way love worked? Ian was young, much younger than Taren, but not immature. He was a smart, interesting man who knew exactly what he wanted. A little bit of a perfectionist, but that was what made him a superb CEO and likely got him through Warton with honors and an MBA. After they’d come to know each other, Ian confessed he’d wanted Taren as a lover and as a Dom, from that first blizzardy day.

  One of Taren’s favorite pastimes was observing Ian. He leaned in the doorway of their bathroom and watched Ian as he prepared for work. Ian was lean and graceful with black hair, eyes so brown it was difficult to see his pupils, and a sweet smile. Under the leather codpiece he wore a cage that encased his cock and balls in steel rings lined with small nubs. A leather strap rested above his hip bones and a second strap was strung through his legs, between his ass cheeks and buckled tight at the small of his back. Ian had a narrow prostate massager in place as well, the effects of which would be concealed from the world by the codpiece.

  The muscles of Ian’s back slid in graceful waves under his skin as he washed his face, then reached for his razor. Poetry in motion . Those were the words that often came to Taren’s mind when he watched Ian.

  Clutching the handle of the straight edge—seriously, who used those things anymore?—Ian froze and looked in the mirror, meeting Taren’s eyes. Ian’s gaze flicked to the razor then back to Taren before he stood straight and lowered his gaze to the countertop between the double oval sinks.

  Taren moved forward until he stood so close to Ian his jeans rubbed over Ian’s bare ass. He leaned around Ian, took the razor, and smiled at Ian’s reflection when he shivered. “Why don’t you use an electric one?” While he spoke, he loosened the buckles of the codpiece and let it drop to the floor and kissed Ian’s shoulder.

  “I like the look this one gives.” Ian smiled softly. “It feels sexy.”

  “I’m all for that. Aren’t you worried I’ll do this wrong?” Taren teased.

  Ian gave his head one quick shake. Taren might have been the Dom, but it was Ian who was a bit of a control freak and pickier when it came to things like his appearance. Taren used his free hand under Ian’s chin to tilt his head back then reached for the shaving cream. He spread the thick liquid over Ian’s lower jaw and neck before shaking the excess off in the sink.

  Taren slowly moved the razor in even strokes. He wound his other arm around Ian and used one finger, still slick with shaving cream to press against Ian’s nipple. Ian sucked in a breath when Taren began circling his nipple, steadily applying more pressure. Every time Ian moved, Taren pressed the razor’s edge against his skin with more pressure.

  Ian’s body tensed when Taren leaned in and licked over his ear.

  “You need a little something more for your nipples,” Taren whispered.

  Ian closed his eyes and swallowed slowly. He pulled in a few deep breaths through his nose and bit his lower lip.

  “Your self-control is excellent, as always,” Taren murmured. “That cage with the nubs inside the rings must be very uncomfortable about now.” He made a point of looking at Ian’s reflection and how his cock was stiffening within the confines of his cage. The sight sent a ripple through Taren’s belly and heat to his groin. “How does it feel?”

  “Great. Thank you, Sir, for this,” Ian’s words were clipped and his voice tight.

  Using the razor to hold Ian in place, Taren reached between Ian’s legs and pressed two fingers to the external prostate stimulator, pushing up. Ian’s breathing sped up and he clenched his fists. Taren knew he was fighting the urge to rock onto his toes.

  Taren chuckled and put the razor in the sink. “It’s going to be a pleasure showing you off.” He reached for a small box resting on the counter near the mirror. From it he extracted a platinum Cuban link chain. He laid it around Ian’s neck. The chain fit snuggly against Ian’s skin and dipped low enough under his neck it would be concealed under his shirt collar. As Taren hooked the clasp, he brushed his lips over the back of Ian’s neck then smoothed his palms across Ian’s shoulders. “I do love how this looks on you, boy.”

  Ian’s face softened and he smiled. “Thank you, Master. I like how it feels, it’s solid.” He ran the fingers of one hand over the links.

  Ian met Taren’s gaze again in the mirror and it was plain he wanted to ask for more of an explanation about the ‘ showing him off ’ comment, but Taren wouldn’t give him one. Yet. “Finish washing so you can get dressed for work.” Taren left him to his task.

  When Ian emerged, he was dried off and his hair was brushed back. Ian said it made him look more professional if his hair wasn’t shaggy and falling over his forehead, even if Taren thought Ian’s bangs flopping over his eyes was cute.

  Taren took two nipple clamps strung together with a thin chain and stepped closer to Ian. As he applied each of the clamps Taren spoke in a low, even voice. “You were disobedient by not arranging your vacation time when I asked.” He gave one clamp a little tug and smiled from the satisfying noise Ian made. “We’ll discuss your punishment after breakfast. As I mentioned, I’ll be driving you to work. As a matter of fact, I’ll be driving for the next few weeks.”

  Ian looked up for a few seconds, gave Taren a smal
l smile, and nodded before looking down again. He bit his lip while clenching and flexing his fingers three or four times before he’d relax for a few seconds, then the whole process would start over. Ian liked to be in control, he also liked giving that control up to Taren. One way to make sure that control was relinquished was making Ian take the passenger seat. It usually meant two things. Taren had plans for Ian that would make driving dangerous if not impossible, or it was a punishment. Sometimes, like today, it was a bit of both.

  “No underwear,” Taren said and stepped away so he could watch Ian finish dressing.

  Ian nodded again, this time keeping his gaze lowered. Taren wondered what Ian’s imagination was cooking up about what was to come and hoped he could measure up.

  Ian’s black suit was perfectly cut to fit his lean frame, and no one would guess by looking at him what he wore underneath. Ian was the picture of confidence and authority. Yet, he submitted completely to Taren. There were no doubts in Taren’s mind Ian wouldn’t like certain aspects of the punishment Taren decided on, but liking it wasn’t the point of punishment.

  After breakfast Taren took Ian’s car keys and held them up. “Unless you prefer we take my car?”

  Ian hesitated a moment, clearly trying to decide. Giving up driving could be more difficult than giving up control when he had an orgasm, and Taren understood this completely. It was important Ian had some choices. Relinquishing his car was more difficult than being a passenger in Taren’s.

  Ian picked up his briefcase and held it loosely at his side. He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “I prefer whichever car you decide we take, Sir.” He made brief eye contact with Taren and smiled mischievously. “Though, mine is newer and….” Ian started then hurried toward the door.

  Taren held the door to the garage open for him and motioned to Ian’s car. He held down a button on the remote for the massager for a few seconds. “You’re going to be late,” he said very casually when Ian squeaked in a breath.

  When they reached Ian’s car, Taren unlocked the passenger door and waved Ian inside. Before he pulled the car onto the street, Taren turned the heating in Ian’s seat up all the way.

  The first ten minutes of their drive were quiet, other than the small noises Ian would make when Taren tapped on the massager remote.

  When they hit a slowdown in the traffic Taren grumbled, “Damn construction.”

  “Tell me about it,” Ian said and sighed. “It’s been giving me fits for weeks. Will you be staying nearby, Sir?”

  “Maybe.” Taren glanced over at Ian for a few seconds. “I will go back home right after dropping you off and I’ll pack up this car for our trip. Then I’ll be back. We need to discuss your punishment. I’ve decided since I asked you to take a certain number of days away from your office, and you didn’t, your punishment will happen there.”

  “Taren—” Ian’s words were very effectively cut off by the remote in Taren’s hand.

  “I’m not finished. However, I don’t want to undermine your authority over your employees. I will permit you to choose where on the grounds this punishment is to take place. We can use your office, or somewhere else. But everyone will see me come for you,” Taren said. “Some people might notice the after affects.”

  Ian enjoyed public scenes to a point, and they had rules about what they did at Ian’s workplace. His parents founded and owned a large sporting resort, skiing in the winter, other sports in the summer, hunting and camping year-round. It was a fact Taren found laughable because neither of Ian’s parents seemed to even like the outdoors. It was Ian who was the man in charge of the daily operation of the business.

  There was a separate office building and that’s where they often met when Taren joined— took —Ian ‘for lunch’. Ian’s office was private, and for the most part soundproof enough for Taren to get a blow job or to tease Ian to the brink, or better yet allow him to come, all the while ordering him to be silent. The difference was Ian liked those activities and often expressed how much they excited him.

  Enduring punishment knowing those who worked for him were close by was another thing all together. Soundproof enough wasn’t the same as completely soundproof.

  Ian wasn’t the only one who would push the boundaries sometimes.

  Licking his lips Ian said quietly, “There is a small conference room above my office. Not many people are up there unless there’s a meeting. Would you allow my punishment to take place there?”

  “That’ll do. I’ll meet you in your office later and we’ll go there together.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Ian’s voice was soft, and he stared at the floor between his feet.

  Taren left Ian at the entrance to his building. He chuckled when Ian jumped then tried to walk normally each time Taren hit the remote button. Ian turned around and gave him a glare then a wave good-bye. Taren smiled pleasantly and waved back before guiding the car into traffic.

  He would never tell Ian, but Taren was happy and a little relieved that he could pack without Ian’s help—interfering. As Taren packed, he thought of ways Ian would unpack, rearrange, and repack. It was better this way. He loved the guy with all his heart, but some days Ian’s need to do things perfectly was a little trying. They were going on a trip, not moving to another continent. Anything overlooked during the packing could be bought. Ian sometimes forgot it was okay to loosen up control in other areas besides the bedroom.

  While he went about his task, he formulated a plan. When he’d told Ian his punishment would take place at his business office, Taren hadn’t decided exactly what that punishment would be.

  By the time Taren was finished loading the car, he had his plan. With a sense of satisfaction Taren closed the trunk, went back into the house, gathered his phone and what he’d need for lunch with Ian, then began the trip back to Ian’s office.

  He was greeted in the outer office by Ian’s assistant, Jocelyn. “Here without an appointment again?” She looked up from whatever she was working on at her computer. She was a petite, nice looking woman around fifty who always offered a smile. Her dark, curly hair was streaked with shades of red that matched the red of her nails; everything about her matched, her makeup, jewelry, and clothes.

  “Well.” Taren ran one finger over the edge of her desk. “I do have special permission.”

  “Hmm…I bet you do,” Jocelyn laughed and winked at him. He liked her and their banter.

  Taren pointed to Ian’s office door and whispered, “He in a meeting?”

  “No.” Jocelyn shook her head.

  “I’ll just surprise him.” Taren winked at her.

  Jocelyn tilted her head to one side and smirked. Her dark, brown eyes twinkled. “Oh, I doubt that.”

  Taren had the feeling she knew a lot more about them than she’d ever let on. He grinned and stepped silently to the closed door. Giving the handle a turn, he slipped into Ian’s office. Ian was hard at work with a pile of papers on the desk in front of him.

  Since Ian wasn’t on the phone and there was no one else in the office, Taren reached into his pants pocket for the remote. He tapped lightly on the button which would give Ian a mild jolt.

  Straightening in his chair, Ian laid his pen down, carefully folded his hands in front of him and rested them on the desk. He focused on his hands. Normally, if they were at home, Taren would instruct Ian to wait for him in a room alone, usually facing the wall. That would give Ian time to reflect on why the punishment was necessary.

  Today, however, wasn’t normal. It was thrilling. The way Ian shifted slightly in his chair told Taren he was excited by the prospect of what they were about to do even if he was nervous about the location.

  Taren held out one hand, palm up.

  Ian stood and walked around the desk, laying his hand in Taren’s.

  “Lead on,” Taren ordered.

  “Yes, Sir.” Ian stepped ahead of Taren to the door. He stopped for a brief second and took a deep breath then lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.

  Taren
gave the remote another tap and chuckled when Ian started. “No dawdling.”

  Ian opened the office door and led Taren through the outer office. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said to Jocelyn.

  She winked at Taren. “Enjoy lunch.”

  “I always do.” Taren gave Ian’s hand a squeeze.

  They went up one floor and to the conference room. Ian opened the door and stepped aside then followed Taren into the room.

  “Strip and stand in the corner, face to the wall,” Taren said. While Ian completed that task, Taren locked the door and closed the blinds. Lastly, he took the phones off their hooks. A quick glance around assured him there were no security cameras in the room. There were no computers in the room, but there was a television screen mounted on one wall. He pulled the plug from the outlet.

  Next Taren moved a chair from its place tucked under the conference table. He took a moment to consider where Ian should be placed, bent over a chair or spread across the table. Spread out and open to him on the table was too sexual, Ian would love that , and Taren’s objective was to discipline Ian, not give him a thorough fucking no matter how much they’d both enjoy it.

  He moved the chair, so it was more centered in the room. “Come here, boy.” Ian turned around and walked to Taren. “Over the back of the chair, you may hold the arms if you’d like.”

  The temptation to use his hand on Ian’s round ass was almost overwhelming. Taren took in Ian’s long legs and the way his calves and thighs twitched. He loved how Ian’s ass cheeks tensed and relaxed every few seconds. The slight spattering of hair covering his skin enhanced every ripple of his muscles.

  Taren’s hand against Ian’s flesh was an intimate act.

  Discipline wasn’t meant to be intimate.

  The proper equipment was needed, so Taren had brought a paddle. It had to be small enough to fit into his jacket pocket. This paddle was the size of a woman’s hairbrush. The handle and paddle were about the same length. It was narrow and just thick enough not to crack under pressure. Paddle resting in his palm, Taren took his position behind Ian. Twenty-four hits, twelve to each ass cheek in an alternating pattern. One for each hour in the day Ian neglected to include in his vacation.