The power was intoxicating. And, as in his job, with that power came responsibility. He was used to taking care of his subordinates, recognizing they had personal lives as well as work lives, and while his job was to get the best work out of them possible, that often involved making them comfortable with the balance as well. A Dom had even more responsibility. His job was to help her explore and keep her safe. To show her pleasure, and let her give it and know she was pleasing. In the end, she would only obey if he made it worth her while. And if he protected her.
Still. I’m going to push. Because I think that’s what Alicia needs and want, but also because I have fantasies too. This is going to be a bumpy ride. I wondered whether I was up for the task, but now we’ll see how interested she is in submitting.
And if she doesn’t obey, I can spank her. But will that be a punishment or a reward?
* * * *
Alicia looked at the e-mail for the fifth time and took a deep breath. She lifted her black skirt, a short skirt as directed, and slipped her panties off. The e-mail was curt, maybe even distant. Not like the usual polite Craig at all. Short skirt, no panties, shaved pussy. Violation will be punished. Meet me at the Festival Theatre in Dupont Circle.
Part of her thought being punished sounded very enticing indeed, which was why she’d hesitated. A long plaid skirt lay on the bed, but in the end, she’d decided to wear the short skirt he’d asked for, and then thought she had to wear panties with it in case she tripped or something. At least it came to midthigh. As long as she kept it pulled down, it was decent.
Shaving had been another struggle. She’d considered obeying in every way except that. Then she’d gotten out the razor, intending to shave some but not all and maybe leave a landing strip. Obeying enough that he would like the way she looked and disobeying enough to get punished. But by the time she got that far, she was wet and feeling very submissive, so she’d simply shaved the rest, then went over it all again to make sure she’d done the best job possible. The feeling of doing that all for him was a very good one, and it seemed almost meditative. Obeying him was a given, and doing the best she could was satisfying.
She rubbed along the slick folds of her bare pussy before deciding that she would wait for him. He hadn’t directed her not to masturbate; in fact, he’d encouraged her when he’d left her house. But she wanted his touch more than she wanted her own. If he doesn’t satisfy me, then I’ll play.
Maybe he’ll order me not to. The idea made her grit her teeth. He didn’t have the right. So why is that idea making me even hornier? Sigh.
She’d called Karen about her predicament. Karen reminded her that she might get the spanking she wanted by disobeying, but she’d be in charge once she took that step. “If you don’t want to do what he asks, tell him he’s gone too far,” Karen had said. “And if you need a spanking to make it worth it, negotiate for it. If not, you could drop him a note saying that you’d like to do that again sometime and leave it up to him. If you want him to feel like a Dom, though, you have to let him be.”
That made sense to her, so she went to meet him at the theater dressed exactly as he’d directed. She took the Metro because she hated to drive in DC and parking was expensive, and sat with her legs very tightly pressed together the whole way. At least it wasn’t a windy day, although she had to walk two blocks that tempted her into regretting her choice of high heels. She always wore sneakers to work, so she didn’t have a lot of practice in heels, but she felt they went with the skirt better than anything else she had.
She was ten minutes late. He was waiting for her, of course, lounging with his back against the wall and a paperback mystery in his hand. She was able to walk right to him before he looked up from his book.
“Hi. Absorbed?”
“I think I can put it down.” He closed it and grinned. “How are you?”
“Good. Sorry I’m late.” She thought of making an excuse about the train transfer not going smoothly or of how the heels slowed her down but thought better of it. The fact was she was always optimistic about how long trips were going to take her.
“It’s okay. Just don’t expect me to follow suit.” He put his arm around her waist and gave her a long kiss. People bustled around them to get by on the busy street, and she was tempted to yank away. But the kiss felt good, and if he wanted an audience, she decided she could yield and let that be up to him. She kissed back, eagerly parting her lips for his tongue.
“Did you follow directions?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.” Surely he wasn’t going to check on a busy street, was he?
“Good. I do so like it when you obey, Alicia.”
“I was almost tempted not to, to get a spanking,” she confessed.
Craig looked thoughtful. “Interesting,” he said at last. “I remember you saying you wanted to watch the new John Graves movie, so let’s go watch it. It should be good.”
She’d been spending so much time thinking about his directions, she’d completely forgotten to check what might be playing at the theater. “Oh, good.” She decided not to mention that she thought Graves was the hunkiest guy in show business. But then, the actress playing alongside him was pretty hot too. There’s nothing unfaithful about looking, for either of us.
She wondered if Craig would take advantage of her lack of underwear in the theater. It wasn’t dark enough to put her entirely at ease, and in the end, he did nothing but cuddle her and stroke the back of her neck. It was a good but not great movie, and they chatted about it like a perfectly normal couple afterward as they walked hand in hand. She was slightly disappointed, even though she hadn’t wanted him to embarrass her in public. All that preparation for nothing.
Then she noted that they were not walking back toward the Metro. She knew he lived somewhere around there. She assumed they were walking to his place. They walked past a gay bookstore and a kinky leather store. Dupont Circle had been a haven for the gay community way before anyone could get married to someone of the same sex, and they passed a lot of couples holding hands and two passionate men kissing. Their kiss in front of the theater no longer seemed so daring. It made Alicia smile to see that what had once been so hidden could now be so open, safe, and normal.
To her surprise, he tugged her hand and pulled her down an alley. “Shortcut,” he explained. The alley bent as it went behind a house, and she could see it bend again toward the next street. A perfectly reasonable path, although one she’d never take without Craig with her.
He pulled her into a kiss after the bend, out of sight of the main street. She kissed him back, hungrily. He groped her ass, then started pulling the skirt upward until she could feel the cool evening air on her pussy. Everything he’d asked of her—the short skirt, the lack of underwear, the shaving—all intensified the sensation of bareness. He cupped her naked ass, and as she squeezed against him, she could feel him hardening. A sense of power swept over her that she could arouse him so. And yet, she was doing it by giving up power, by letting him take control. But him being in control was what she wanted, so that was the power flowing back. It was complicated and too hard to figure out.
And his hand felt damn good. His fingers pressed into the crease and found a sensitive set of nerves. Her pussy was wet and tingled. She’d let him fuck her right there if he wanted to.
Suddenly, he let go and yanked her skirt down. A moment later, she heard footsteps. Two women gave them a few sidelong looks and laughed as they continued on. The alley was not their private playground. She was grateful for his restraint, and yet a part of her was aroused at the idea of getting caught. She took a breath and gave up control of that too. She would trust him.
After the others had gone, he undid two buttons on her blouse. It wasn’t indecent, but it displayed a fair amount of cleavage, and at her angle, she could see the lace of her bra. “Like so,” he told her.
“Yes, Sir.” Then, feeling daring, she added, “However you wish me to be.”
He looked for a moment as if he was consi
dering undoing even more. Her heart thumped. Maybe she had been too daring. He smiled. “This being-on-top thing takes some getting used to,” he said. “But I think I like it. C’mon. Let’s get to someplace where we can get that blouse off entirely.”
He took her hand and led her down the alley and across the next street to the steps in front of an old brick town house. They climbed the steps, and he opened the door with his key.
The house inside looked very nice, especially for a bachelor pad. There weren’t any obvious dust bunnies, nor was there a pile of anything in the living room. It was a bit spartan for her taste; she would have put a coffee table in front of the leather sofa and added a comfy chair. He had a giant wide-screen TV and a state-of-the-art sound system, and that was clearly the focus of the room. There was a clean tablecloth on the dining room table.
Beyond, in the kitchen, there were granite countertops, and all the dishes were put away, although a few empty Coke cans and beer cans sat waiting to be recycled.
She realized she was sizing him up for someone she might be able to live with. She supposed in a way she’d been doing that from the start, and that was why she had to explore her kinky side now, before it was too late. He’d always been the kind of man she could fall for permanently, but she’d not thought about it directly, and it surprised her that she was doing so now. She looked at him and found him glancing at her curiously.
“Does it pass inspection?”
She blushed. Was I that obvious? “Yes.”
“Good. My turn for some inspection, then. Blouse off.”
Oh. “Yes, Sir.” She leaned back against the door and started undoing buttons, hoping she looked sexy doing it.
“In fact,” he said, “you should always take your blouse off when you enter my house.”
“Always? What if you have company?” She was only half-worried about that. What she noted was that he was establishing a rule, and a rule meant a relationship beyond boyfriend and girlfriend, and beyond play partners. It implied an ongoing relationship as dominant and submissive. As master and slave? Maybe those words were too intense right now. She definitely wanted to be his girlfriend, and she wanted to play with him. She was happy to be exclusive to him. But more? It seemed almost too good to be true.
“If I have company, then I’ll either inform you that there’s to be an exception or I’ve chosen the company quite carefully. Parker and Karen, maybe.”
She finished unbuttoning the blouse. Yes, it wouldn’t be so bad to have people there, as long as they weren’t offended and wouldn’t judge her for submitting to Craig. It might even be hot. Trying to buy time to think, she turned to the closet off the entryway and hung up her blouse with the jackets there.
“Or perhaps the rule should be that you should get naked completely,” he said.
“You don’t like my pretty bra?” She pouted. She had picked it carefully for the date, a black lacy one with an underwire and padding on the bottom half that pushed her up just right. Even she thought her breasts looked fabulous in it.
“It’s a very pretty bra. I admit I’m torn between getting to see you in lingerie and liking you without anything at all. Very well, the rule is to take your blouse off.”
“Yes, Sir. As you wish.” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She’d rather he like her naked than like her taste in underwear, although both were nice.
“Which doesn’t mean that I won’t order you to take off the rest when I like. Now…” He took a step forward and lifted her skirt in the back. She looked up at him as his hand caressed her bare ass, then slid around her hips to feel her new smoothness. She shuffled her feet, parting her legs and hoping for more of a touch, and was rewarded. He traced her pussy lips with his finger, and then slid one inside. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.”
“I like the way you feel.”
“I’m glad, Sir.” I like the way your fingers feel too.
“What sort of girl walks around with no panties and a short skirt like that?” He moved his fingers back out and found a spot that made her sigh.
With him stroking her clit, it was very hard to concentrate. “I was only obeying orders, Sir,” she protested.
“Oh, that’s not good enough, Alicia. Dressing like that is more than a bit slutty. I think you’re a very naughty girl.”
“But you said—” She wasn’t sure where this was going.
“And very naughty girls get spankings.”
“But—” It wasn’t fair. She had done exactly as he’d directed, and now she was getting punished for it. Except that she wanted him to spank her, and he knew that, and… She smiled. He’d set it all up. “Yes, Sir. I’m a very bad girl, and the only way you’re going to teach me to behave is for me to take my punishment.”
He grinned. “Exactly. So go bend over my dining room table there and lift your skirt.”
“But then you’ll be able to see everything!”
“There is that.” He chuckled. “I’ll try not to look.”
Right. She walked to the table and bent over it. The only reason she was at the right height was because she was wearing heels, but as it was, it was almost comfortable to sprawl her arms and torso on the white tablecloth.
She lifted her skirt and bunched it up. Could he see her pussy as well as her ass? She thought he could. Her pussy felt swollen, wet, wanting.
Only once she was in position did he cross the room to join her. He put a warm hand on her back, above the bra strap. “Ready for your punishment?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How many do you think would be appropriate?”
“As many as you like, Sir.” She didn’t want to choose.
“That’s a good answer.”
The first swat took her by surprise. She wasn’t aware they were done talking, and the force of it jolted her against the table. His hand stung, and then the sting faded, the warmth in her bottom only heightening the arousal deep inside her. But the edge of the table against her belly was not as pleasant. She moved back an inch and braced herself better.
He spanked first one cheek, then other. And then he stroked down the middle, sliding his hand along her pussy before the sting had even faded. The effect was magical, as if he could transmute all the sting and ache of his hand into sex by a gentle touch of his fingers. She moaned and pushed back, willing them to enter her. But instead, he spanked her again. This time, there were more of the stinging spanks before he touched her pussy, but the effect was the same. With each sequence, she could transform more pain into pleasure. Now she wanted to get closer to the table and see if she could somehow grind her clit against the table edge. She scooted forward.
He pulled her back.
“Your pleasure is under my control, Alicia. As is your pain. Have you had enough?”
“No, Sir. I could take more.”
“Good girl,” he said softly, and her heart warmed. She was being praised for her ability to take a spanking. This felt so much better than the scene with Alex in the club. Now, she really was taking it for Craig, rather than fantasizing about it.
He landed two quick spanks on each side of her ass, more sting than thud because of the way he pulled his hand away. “Spread your legs farther,” he ordered.
She shifted her feet to comply, hoping she wasn’t scraping his hardwood floor too badly with her heels. But maybe even if she was, it was worth it.
He spanked her more, and the difference in position helped send even stronger signals from her ass to her pussy. She felt like she was dripping wet now. His swats got harder, but somehow they stung less. She could take them better, and they blended with her arousal. She felt pleasantly fuzzy, like the one time she tried pot but without feeling like she was going to throw up at the same time.
Without warning, he pushed fingers inside her. They slid in easily, deeply, and he curled them to hit her G-spot. A moment later she came, her whole body feeling like it was contracting when her pussy did. She covered his hand with a flood of w
etness, and the smell of sex intensified.
“That’s it, Alicia. That’s beautiful.” The sound of pleasure in his voice was unmistakable.
Oh my God. All I needed for foreplay was a spanking. The thought pleased her and at the same time scared her. She would never go back to wanting mere vanilla sex, at least not a steady diet of it, knowing that kink could be so much more intense for her.
Then again, it seems like Craig is well and truly along for that ride. So it’s okay. Maybe I never need to go back.
“Give me more,” he ordered, his fingers thrusting inside her. His hand on her back, which had been gentle, was now firm, holding her in place.
Her insides rippled around his fingers again, as if on command. Wave after wave of pleasure came over her, and she wasn’t sure anymore where one orgasm began and another started, only that it all felt as good as she’d ever felt. The tablecloth bunched in her hands, and she wanted to scratch something. When his fingers finally stopped moving, she was exhausted and satiated, and her uterus felt sore from all the clenching.
Slowly, he withdrew his fingers. He touched her on the shoulder with a moist hand. God, I soaked him. It was embarrassing. And yet amazing.
“That was incredible,” he told her. “And so very beautiful.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Really.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Men never cared much about her orgasms, much less appreciated them. At best, it was always “I’ve satisfied you, so now it’s your turn.” She didn’t mind taking her turn. Or more than her turn. She wanted someone whose pleasure she could see wholeheartedly; she had known that. But what she hadn’t realized was she needed someone to value her pleasure for its own sake. She’d always thought of that characteristic as submissive before, but there was no doubt in her mind anymore that Craig was dominant.
Take Me With You Page 9
