by Misty Kayn
His light brown eyes were almost hazel. They were warm—usually—she was sure, but not now as they glided between the woman he was meeting and a man with her.
"It's nice to finally see you," Shaye said. "I've been looking forward to it since you arranged the meet, and I'm sorry I was late. Work got in the way."
"Are either of you hungry? Do you want something to drink?"
"No thank you."
"All right, SS35, let’s get straight to it. You are not thirty five years old."
Oh no! She forgot she lied about her age. In the beginning, when they opened the first chat she wanted to please him so badly, get him to talk with her and when he asked about her age, she lied. "I'm twenty four."
He took a minute, or maybe just few seconds, but to her the wait felt like an entire summer.
"I wanted a woman in her thirties."
Ashamed, she hung her head.
He snapped his fingers. "Up here."
Eyes up, she said the only thing she could say. "I'm sorry."
"That's it?"
"Out of over two hundred subs in the chat room, you private messaged me and I was excited and well, honored. I mean, I was just there to post pictures and didn't get my hopes up. When I saw your message, I couldn't…I didn't want our age difference to be in the way, and so I lied."
Under the table, Dallas kicked her foot. Under Sir Robert's gaze, she shrunk. He was gonna bail. She'd have bailed too. Lifestyle stripped to the bones, removed of the different ways people engaged with each other, was left with consent and trust. It was that simple. Everything else was to each its own. She broke the carnal rule from the start. Would he find it in him to forgive? Maybe give her a second chance?
She didn't think he would. The pile of problems his previous subs laid at his feet metered his tolerance for bullshit. He was a long time Dominant who saw right through her. She didn't hide anything. At least not anymore. Tears blurred her vision, and she placed her sunglasses over her face.
"Honest liar," he said and didn't reprimand her for covering up her shame. "I didn't realize you were bringing a friend. He's a friend correct?"
"My fault," Dallas said. "I crashed the party and hitched a highway ride."
Sir R's eyebrows drew down. "You were hitchhiking?"
"Yep." Dallas chewed his gum.
"It's illegal to solicit services."
"Hitchhiking is legal."
"Solicit services by the side of the road."
"What, you a cop?"
Sir R tilted his head then swung his brown eyes her way. Avoidance wouldn't help and she'd already lied enough. She cleared her throat. "I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if you'd meet me with a friend."
"So, let me get this straight." He leaned forward and placed the weight of his upper body on his forearms. He interlocked his fingers while his jaw flexed and his eyes narrowed. "I meet a cute little pup who is a mature woman and wants the same things I want—"
"I didn't lie about anything else I swear. I need all things."
"I wasn't finished," he said, firm and also, annoyed.
Her shoulders slumped.
"As I was saying, I find a pup out of all the other available submissives, and I'm thinking she's worth the risk of meeting in private. Maybe I'll get to keep her because let me tell you what it looks like from my perspective. I've been around long enough to know wasting my time in chat rooms is futile unless I got something good going. It was good wasn't it?"
The huge rock in her throat blocked her words, so she nodded.
He leaned back and looked out the window for a second then placed his hands flat on the table. "It was nice meeting you. Hope you find what you're looking for."
Shaye didn't see him leave. Not really. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn't imagine their meet would end at the table. They were supposed to do the dirty, the naughty, the filthy, and they were supposed to get to know each other while at it. She stared, thoughts wiped blank, at his empty chair while the tears finally poured over and slid down her face. Well-earned tears. Desperation for a Dominant, for a man to share her kinks with, wasn't an excuse to lie. Some girls learned the hard way, and she was one of them.
"He's pounding that pavement outside," Dallas said and brought her back to the background noise of the spinning fans above them.
"He's at the car. Door handle jerking. Ups, forgot to unlock."
A car alarm blared through the station.
"Hands in his pocket. Wait, wait, wait."
Shaye looked outside. He was padding his shorts, searching for keys. A dark, muscled hand extended before her face and pressed the button on the car key. Alarms silenced, car lights blinked off.
"He's so mad, he forgot his stuff," Shaye said.
"Nope, I swiped his fucking sunglasses and keys. What an asshole."
She turned to face Dallas. "He's gonna…he's gonna…"
"It's a sign Shaye, you deserve this."
"I lied."
"I don't care." Dallas wore Sir R's sunglasses and leaned back in the chair. "Here comes caveman."
She stood, yanked the sunglasses off Dallas's face, and grabbed the keys. Dallas laughed his ass off. Cafeteria doorbells, like huge wedding ones, pierced the hollow room. When Sir Robert stood at the table with his hands on his hips, she thrust his things to him, her eyes wide. She placed her fists in the pockets of her scrubs and tried to think of something polite to say. But, she didn't get a chance.
"Oh!" He tackled her, and threw her over his shoulder. "Oh my God," whooshed out with the air from her lungs. She couldn't believe he was doing this, didn't think this kind of handling would ever happen to her.
Head bobbing to the rhythm of his long strides, she hung onto his back pockets for dear life. A young man wearing a yellow hat and a red uniform rushed out of the back room. "Whoa, duuuude! What the hell you doin'?" He picked up the phone.
"It's okay! Don't call!" Shaye said as Sir Robert pushed open the door. "He's my…my—"
"Daddy," Dallas supplied.
THREE
Sir R led them down the steep climb over the rocks and under the rich green trees. For the first time today she was glad she stayed in the scrubs. Behind her, Dallas cursed as the desert's shrubs nicked and pierced his uncovered skin. Shaye fought the branches with her hands, and hurried behind Sir R. In one hand he carried her large purple duffle with a small tent, some spare clothes, and barbecue utensils she'd packed and left in her trunk before leaving home. In the other, he shouldered a bag of charcoal. "I can take the bag," she said.
"It's heavy, don't want you falling on your face."
"I eat spinach."
He propped the charcoal bag and turned. "Excuse me."
She pointed to her bicep. "Iron."
He blinked.
"Popeye?"
Sir stood there, face blank. Dallas rounded the two. "She thinks she's funny. Just laugh, it's for the best."
Sir threw the duffle then the bag on the ground and hopped three feet down to the gravel-like terrain. He offered her his hand. When all three of them stood grounded, he didn't let go of her hand and swiped his thumb against her palm. She squeezed, acknowledging his affection.
"Wow, nice set up boss," Dallas said. "I've been farther down a few times, but this place is hidden. Diggin' it." He walked to the river, his shudders rolled along with his exaggerated swagger.
Shaye looked around. The camping lot Sir R picked out was beautiful with the way trees surrounded the small open space to the moving river. Tall, thick leaved branches hovered above the edges of the space and over his large tent, providing natural shade. The campground was like a forest cave. At the edge, instead of a steep fall, the refreshing river greeted them.
Before they arrived, Sir R had cleaned up the space, put up a tent, started a hole for the fire, and placed a plastic white table for four on the edges of the river. Water drifted in between the legs of the table and one olive green camping chair faced the other side. A small white Styrofoam cooler, next to
the chair, threatened to tip over as the water splashed against its walls.
"Come on inside," he said and nudged the small of her back.
Shaye walked about thirteen feet and flung the tent's green, textured door. She didn't need to bend her head to get inside. The tent was large, made for a tall man who wanted to stand while inside. Directly across, in the middle of the tent, was a blow up airbed for two. To the left of the bed, against the tent’s wall, was a large red cooler with a white top. Opposite were two black duffle bags. One small and one big.
She moved away from the entrance then slid her sunglasses inside her purse. She dug out a tissue and wiped the sweat off her face and neck. In the front pocket, when she put away the tissue, her fingers brushed over a stray hairband. She pulled up her curls and fanned her neck, glad for the cooler air in the darker tent. He bent at the door then dropped her duffle next to his two. Hands on hips he turned and took a shoulder wide stance. Battle ready.
She placed her purse on the floor, and interlocked her fingers behind her back. Looking around, she felt like the stolen Viking maiden in the midst of a war with ogres. Saved by the Viking pillager. From the ogres. All he needed was a sword and armor to match the frown that wasn't going away anytime soon. And neither was a too-young-for-him five foot two submissive and her one friend army. Lucky him.
She almost saw the wheels turn in his head as he contemplated his moves. Scenes were a private matter and Shaye just couldn't do her thing in front of Dallas. No doubt Sir R felt the same way. Play or not, she was happy they met, happy he didn't turn his back on her. She wished to start right away, but with Dallas around, playing wasn't an option.
"I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled under his breath, more to himself then for her ears. "Come here."
She crossed the distance and hugged his middle. "I'm sorry for everything." Face against his hard chest, she rubbed her cheek on his soft t-shirt then buried her nose and inhaled loudly. He smelled clean and sharp, his pine-laced cologne didn't hint to men her age. She didn't think their years apart made a difference with who they were with each other, but for him the age gap was important. Maybe a deal breaker had she said something before. She felt bad for lying but God, against her body, he was all hard and man. "You're everything I imagined you’d looked like," she said. "You must be very disappointed to get the opposite after all we've said to each other online. To come here, prep all this—"
"Look up."
As he searched her face, her green eyes softened at his furrowed brow. "Still, I make a great pup. I do." She nodded in confirmation.
His hands, like a warm blanket, came around her waist. "I'll say you caught me by surprise."
"I aim to keep you on your toes."
"Beginning to suspect that now. The way I see it I got two choices. One, go home and wonder, and two, stay and have fun. We gonna have fun?"
She brightened, and if there were a rainbow somewhere outside, she'd see the flying ponies giggling over it. He wanted to push forwards with their plan. He might have sensed her relief when he caught her weight as her shoulders relaxed, and her knees threatened to fold. Once Dallas found another camp, they would play.
He placed a soft kiss on her lips then swiped them gently with his tongue. Warm, wet tongue flicked against the seam of her lips, and she knew from what they’d said to each other in the past few months, not to open her mouth. He liked to tease. Eyes closed, her knees finally gave out but she gripped his shoulders for purchase and let him do whatever he wanted. She'd do anything for his attention. He was handsome and tolerant and she was lucky. He bit the soft place at the base of her neck. Head lolled back, her neck exposed, soft and vulnerable while the butterflies in her stomach turned into lust and arousal flushed from the tip of her head to her toes. Her pussy lips tingled, her panties wetted.
"Have you touched yourself?" he said.
She shook her head. She was so horny and needy, he didn't let her please herself for ten days as they counted down to today. The denial was the first order he'd given her and she obeyed like a good pup she was.
He buried his face in her neck. "The more I have you in my arms, the more I want to hurt you."
She smiled in relief when he hardened on her belly. She wanted him to burry himself to the hilt inside her and ride her long and hard. She wiggled. He grunted and looked up. "All right Shaye, let’s start from the bottom, hmm?"
"Um…now?" Dallas was still here!
"Now."
Dallas wouldn't come inside the tent would he? "Yes, Sir R."
"Sir will do. Can you stand?" He winked and squeezed her hips. She stood back, again, hands interlocked behind her.
His black tennis shoes came off first then socks and then his shirt to reveal a hard chest with wide shoulders and corded muscle. She wanted to rub her face in his chest and lick the trail down to his middle and then choke on his length. Her eyes focused on his erection. Under his pants, he flexed it then said, "Up here." His eyes were smiling. "I can't say I've ever done any medical RP." He came closer and tugged up the seams of her top.
She raised her hands. "I was rushing and got distracted." Frank's face flashed her thoughts, but she squished him away. He was her problem to deal with and he didn't have a place here under the privacy of their tent.
Sir removed her top, straightened then folded it on the bed. He did the same with her bottoms once she removed her shoes and socks. In pink matching cotton bra and underwear she stood before him while his hand caressed the top of her breasts. In a C cup, slightly smaller than her D size, the bra barely covered her nipples. He pulled the material down, tucked it under her breasts. Soft, large palms weighed her tits, flicked her nipples. "What are your safewords?"
"Traffic lights, Sir."
"You don't have to add Sir every time, only some time. Your tone carries louder to me."
He walked around her and pulled her underwear down to her knees. "Take your ankles."
She bent and gripped her ankles. His big hands were smooth when they trailered over her bottom and they were rough when his fingers dug into her cheeks. He slapped one then the other, reached over her and gripped her hair. "You want to please me don't you?"
He tugged up and she let go of her ankles when he came around her. The grip on her hair tightened, she rose on her toes and held his forearm with both hands.
"You want to please me at your expense?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You want to cry?"
"Yes, Sir! Ah!" she squeaked out when he shook her body by the hair.
He pressed down on top of her head and she knelt holding onto his thighs. He crouched in front of her then released her hair. She placed her hands on his knees. Her face between his palms, he assaulted her mouth. Teeth clashing, tongues twirling, she moaned against his mouth and leaned forwards for more. She almost tipped him over. He pulled back and slapped her. When she fell to the side he picked her back up. They locked eyes. Sir R searched hers for truth.
Thing was, some women spoke a lot online but with real encounters, they weren't ready and found themselves not liking the real deal. She didn’t lie about her end of the power exchange, the need to be treated like a dirty, bad puppy girl, and while the left side of her face prickled with heat, she lowered her head and kissed the hand that hit her.
"All right then." He pushed his thumb into her mouth and gripped her jaw underneath while his other hand cupped her pussy. Oh, thank God. She pressed down almost sitting on his palm, loving the way his fingers touched her. They were soft when they played over her wet entrance. Shaye had been wet since she met him six months ago. Most days she didn't have a dry minute at all. She moaned, moved over them, tried to get him to rub her clit. Maybe he'd let her come now, relieve the tension, let her lose the adrenaline rush cursing through her.
“Ah!”
Sounds of pussy slapping broke the background noise of the river current, the chipper of birds, and the occasional small boat engine rumble as it cruised by their hideout. She bounced back with ea
ch hit wanting more. Her small hand came on top of his large one when he finally rubbed her clit. His eyes were warm, his face determined, scary, and sexy, and she wanted him to hurt her. While sucking on his thumb, she pressed the heel of his palm on her clit and locked her eyes with his letting him see what she needed.
Maybe if she begged?
He smiled. "You're a very needy puppy. Bite down." He shook her jaw.
She bit his thumb while he let her use his hand. Back and forth she glided on his palm. Almost there, oh yes please. A few seconds more and she'd spill into his hand. Moaning, breathless, drool pooling in the back of her throat she wanted to beg for release but couldn't with a mouthful.
"Harder." He pushed two fingers inside her. She rubbed herself, rose up and down on his fingers, and bit down on his thumb. Closing her eyes when she felt the orgasm coming, she bit and sucked him.
"Harder."
Her eyes snapped open. She'd hurt him if she bit down any more.
She hesitated. It was hard thinking of much else than his fingers inside her but she knew she couldn't bite more. "Oh pluuase," she said through her teeth. She wanted to come, didn't want to bite. His fingers left her pussy, his palm landed across her nose. Ouch! Her nose tingled with the force of the hit and her eyes teared. Her teeth dug into his skin while his hand forced her jaw closed even more. Drool pulled in her mouth but she sucked and keened, whined in distress.
"'That's enough."
She released his thumb. His face inches from hers, he smeared her wetness on her lips. She tasted herself then swiped her tongue over her lips for more. He turned around and plowed inside his duffle bag. Sir R retrieved a three-inch thick leather dog collar. All the thoughts of orgasm and biting, the whistling birds and the river in the background cleared. It was like he'd pulled out a diamond ring the size of a coconut.
