Her Two Doms

by Sierra Cartwright

  “I—”

  “I’m inflexible,” he told her. “I demand your honesty. If you lie about the kind of pain you want, you’ll never be satisfied. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he corrected.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said.

  “Tell me what kind of scene you were hoping for tonight.” From his earlier meeting with Devon, he had some idea. She generally wanted a fantasy that wasn’t too far from reality. She wanted a strong man to dominate her because she was high-and-mighty. She wanted to be fucked, and she wanted to plead for it.

  He wasn’t generally into fucking subs. He had no problem bringing them off, and the more they got into it, the more he enjoyed it. And that could provide plenty of masturbation material. But he found actual penetration sometimes confused a relationship, leading a woman to believe he was more interested than he was.

  “When I came here…” She paused and licked her lower lip.

  “Honesty,” he reminded her.

  “I’m embarrassed.”

  “Get over yourself.” He took the sting out of the words with a quick grin.

  A few seconds later, she spoke, “I wanted to pretend to be a wayward secretary who’d displeased her boss one too many times.”

  “Go on.”

  “I wanted to be bent over a desk, have my skirt lifted, and have my butt reddened.”

  “And now?”

  “Now…” She paused again. “Now I don’t want to dictate the scene. I really want to let go. I don’t want to know what to expect.”

  He released her chin. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to let you be in charge.”

  She swallowed.

  “Anything you want to say?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He waited.

  “No, Sir,” she amended.

  “I’m going to release your hands. Then you will ask my permission to stand. You will remain in place while I undress you.”

  “All of my clothes?”

  “That will be my decision.”

  She frowned, and he didn’t hurry her. He’d already pushed her. He was curious to see whether or not she would safe word out, scurry away, and wait for the comfort and security of playing with Devon.

  About thirty seconds later, she said, “I’m ready, Sir.”

  Now that he’d established his dominance, she seemed willing to trust him. He was unaccountably proud of her. He nodded and stood. He released both of her wrists and took a couple of steps back and looked at her.

  “May I stand, Sir?”

  He nodded.

  She moved with an elegance and grace that spoke of submission. Quite a difference from her mannerism in the courtroom, he imagined.

  “I, um, am not quite sure what you want from me now.”

  “If you have questions, you may request permission to speak. Otherwise, you wait on my pleasure.”

  She looked at the floor. At least Devon had taught her a few things. “Remove your blouse.”

  Without glancing up, she shrugged out of the material.

  He took it from her and placed it on the table, near the crop. “Now your skirt.”

  She reached back to lower the zipper.

  He could watch her all day.

  She wriggled her hips, allowing the skirt to pool on the floor.

  His cock hardened at the sight of her. She wore a black garter belt. A scrap of material passed as a thong, hiding her cunt. “Now the underwear.”

  As if she were doing a striptease, she hooked her fingers beneath the waistband and drew the lacy fabric down her hips and thighs.

  She had a small strip of pubic hair that he suddenly found more erotic than if she had been shaved bare.

  He was reminded how long it had been since he’d had sex. The sight and scent of this proud, determined woman made him want to forget everything he knew about creating a scene and just bury himself in her.

  He drank in a breath. More to distract himself than anything else, he scooped up her clothes and tossed them on top of her blouse. “Turn your back to me, spread your legs, and show me your ass.”

  She swallowed. But she didn’t argue.

  Slowly she turned, parted her legs, and bent. Her hair started to come loose from its confines.

  “Beautiful,” he said. “Your ass is very spankable, sub.”

  She remained silent.

  “I complimented you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I expect you to respond.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Now reach back and part your buttocks.” He ignored his hard-on as she spread her butt cheeks. “If you had any idea how gorgeous you look…”

  “Sir… I…”

  “You’re nervous. It’s not a bad thing to be nervous, Victoria. You’ve got your safe word. I warned you I will push your limits. Who knows how many chances we’ll have to scene together? Tonight is your opportunity to explore. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m going to touch your cunt.”

  Her leg muscles stiffened. He moved in closer and stroked between her labia.

  She gasped.

  “Grab your ankles and contain yourself. Unless you’d like me to restrain you?”

  She grabbed her ankles.

  “You’re very wet,” he said. “Slick.” He ran his finger back and forth.

  Victoria’s breaths were ragged, but she remained in place.

  “I think it’s not just pain that turns you on. Submission does, as well.” He pulled back the hood of her clitoris and pressed against the hardened little nub.

  “Oh my God!”

  “Problem, subbie?”

  “I think I already need to come, Sir.”

  “Just from my touch?” But he knew it was more than that. It was from the way he relentlessly demanded more and more from her. If she were honest with herself, with him, she’d likely admit to having got damp when he’d slung her over his shoulder.

  Her knees buckled before she forced herself back into position.

  “Perfect,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want to come, Sir.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then…”

  “Ask, Victoria. Ask for what you want.”

  “I want your finger inside me.”

  “Inside you, where? Your hot pussy? Or your tight anus?”

  She froze for a moment.

  He dragged some of her wetness backwards and pressed a finger to her anal whorl. “Do you want this?”

  She shook her head. Her hairdo lost the battle against gravity and her movements, and the length of it spilled free. He imagined his hand dug into her hair as she sucked his dick.

  He backed away from her rear entry and continued to tease her pussy.

  “I need you inside me, Sir.” Her body jerked. “Your finger, your cock, just please let me come.”

  He pulled away his hand, leaving her on the edge.

  She took several shallow breaths, and he saw her shoulders shaking.

  “Thank me for my attention.”

  She muttered something under her breath. He grinned, convinced her words were anything but gratitude. “Excuse me?”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “For?”

  “Thank you for your attention, Sir.”

  “That’s what I thought you said. Stand. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind your neck, chest thrust forward.”

  She took her time. He mentally added another stripe for each second she delayed.

  Finally she stood there, oh so beautifully, in her heels, bustier, garter belt, and stockings. If he’d been Devon, he wouldn’t have given up time with her. “Don’t move.”

  The scent of her arousal was sharp in the room, making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything other than burying himself deep inside her. Clearly he’d been working too hard recently, not taking enough time for the finer sex. He’d have to change that when he go
t home.

  He walked behind her and began the tedious process of unhooking the bustier. Scissors would be faster. “You’re looking more and more like the perfect sub,” he said when her back was bare. He tossed the expensive piece of lingerie on top of the growing heap of garments, then looked at her breasts.

  Her small nipples hardened.

  His dick pressed against the inside of his jeans.

  If he didn’t end this scene soon, he’d have to find a private spot to masturbate. He hadn’t had this much trouble staying focused in a decade. “Have you ever been tied to a St Andrew’s cross?”

  Tension, thick and hungry, wrapped them.

  “Once,” she whispered.

  “How was the experience?”

  “I safe worded.”

  “Because?”

  “I wasn’t in control.”

  “I want you to give your control over to me, willingly.”

  In a totally feminine, appealing way, she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. When he was sure she wasn’t going to respond, she looked at him and said, “Yes.”

  “Cup your breasts and play with your nipples.”

  Victoria West, renowned attorney and television commentator, blushed.

  During their time together, he intended to give her another dozen reasons to deepen that pretty colour on her cheeks.

  Chapter Two

  Her breaths threatened to strangle her.

  Even in the battlefield of the courtroom, she’d never met anyone quite like him.

  He was considerably taller than she was. She hated tilting her head back to meet anyone’s gaze. And his eyes were an electric blue that seemed to pulse with barely contained energy.

  His raven-dark hair was pulled back and held with a thin strip of leather. If he had to secure it at his nape, it was much longer than that of the lawyers, judges, and television anchors that she encountered on a daily basis.

  Where other men wore civility like a cloak, with him it was merely a veneer.

  And his behaviour was out of bounds. He’d shocked her when he’d thrown her over his shoulder as if he was a caveman and she was his conquest.

  In that instant, she had known that being with him would be more intense than anything she’d experienced…if she had the guts to play with him.

  Victoria didn’t trust easily. She’d learned that lesson early, and hard. For her, trust had to be earned. But the way he’d already treated her, with a mixture of force and patience, had made her maddeningly wet. She’d thought she’d never want to play with anyone other than Master Devon. After all, she knew him. He was safe, and he let her set the pace. She supposed some called it topping from the bottom. And, probably, it was. But she was the paying client, something Master Devon recognised, and something this man didn’t seem to care about.

  Confounding Dom.

  But, if she were truthful, she’d admit that she yearned for more than just a little taste of his domination. She hadn’t run, despite the fact that he’d given her plenty of opportunity. She craved what he offered.

  “Do I need to repeat my command?” He arched a sinfully dark eyebrow. “Sub?”

  “Sir?” Good God, what had he asked? And how much trouble was she in for forgetting? “I apologise, Sir.” As a rule, she didn’t allow to herself to be flustered by men, Doms included. But something about him made her forget everything she knew about being a powerful woman. She just wanted to be a submissive, to surrender, to feel, to enjoy…

  “Play with your tits,” he said.

  His tone was softer than she’d dared hope. It was as if on some level he recognised how difficult this was for her, and respected it. “Yes, Sir.”

  When he spoke again, his tone offered no compromise. “Torture your nipples, and get them ready for me.”

  Shoving aside her traces of embarrassment, she played with her nipples.

  “Squeeze them harder,” he ordered. He folded his arms across his chest. He regarded her. His eyes seemed to have darkened to the colour of a moonless midnight.

  She followed his order, pinching herself, pulling on the tips. She gritted her teeth, from the pain, from his perusal.

  “I said harder,” he snapped.

  She ground her back teeth. He turned away from her, and she exhaled. What had she got herself into?

  She eased off the pressure slightly, but she knew she’d regret it.

  Moments later, he faced her, a set of Japanese clovers hanging from his index finger.

  Nasty little buggers. But he’d been listening when she’d said she liked them.

  “Sexual arousal will allow you to tolerate more pain,” he said. “Play with your cunt with one hand. And keep up the pressure on your nipples.”

  She lowered her head slightly and looked at the floor. Her hair fell forward, hiding her face. She’d never masturbated in front of a man before, but she suspected he wouldn’t want to hear that.

  Without protesting, she slipped her fingers between her folds. She closed her eyes, pretending Master Gabriel was touching her.

  “Sexy,” he said. “You may only come with permission.”

  That was one order she wasn’t worried about following.

  “Are you wet, sub?”

  “Yes, Sir” she whispered.

  “How wet?”

  His voice was low and sultry. She opened her eyes to find him standing only inches away from her.

  “Show me,” he said. “And keep tormenting your nipples.”

  Embarrassed, she held up her hand. He took it and sucked the moisture from her fingertips. Her knees buckled.

  Right then, just from the eroticism of having her fingers in this gorgeous man’s mouth, she could have come.

  He released her and took a step back. “Hands behind your neck.”

  She lifted her hair and linked her hands at her nape.

  “Thrust out your chest.”

  He plumped her right breast and pinched her nipple considerably harder than she was capable of doing. His fingers were powerful. Her nipples felt as if they were caught in a vice. She gasped.

  “When I tell you to play with your nipples, this is what I mean. Am I clear?”

  She panted, unable to answer. He was relentless with his yanking and twisting and pulling.

  “Sub?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she managed around a grimace. But, shockingly, her pussy was getting wetter.

  He let go of her nipple and instantly clamped it.

  She whimpered.

  “Remember to take deep breaths,” he told her.

  “Easy for you to say, Sir.”

  “Settle in to the pain,” he recommended.

  “My clamps are nothing like this, Sir! Please! Please take it off.”

  “Just relax.”

  She released her hands and reached for the clamp.

  “Behave,” he said sharply. “You can do this.”

  “I—”

  “Would you like me to handcuff you?”

  “God damn it!” What the hell had she been thinking in agreeing to play with him? “Brute,” she said.

  Instead of heeding her protests, he squeezed her left nipple.

  The pain nearly brought her to her knees. “I hate it,” she said.

  He clamped her nipple, then squeezed both of her breasts. Her eyes filled with tears and she determinedly blinked them back.

  “You can use your safe word,” he reminded her.

  She refused to admit defeat. “No, Sir.”

  “Remain where you are.”

  He returned after a few seconds, holding a small, pink vibrator.

  He flicked a switch and the little machine pulsed to life. He pushed a button and the thing leapt on his palm. He captured her chin and her gaze. “Fight your orgasm,” he instructed.

  With the amount of pain she was in, she could only think about escape.

  He placed the vibrator between her legs and unerringly found her clit.

  Almost instantly, sensations of pleasure licked at her, not j
ust her pussy, but her whole body. Her clamped nipples heightened the experience. Unbelievably, she felt the first tendrils of an orgasm. “Sir!” Obviously he knew more about this sadomasochism experience than she did.

  “Fight it,” he repeated.

  She rose on to her tiptoes, seeking more and simultaneously trying to pull away.

  He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, and she convulsed. He placed a hand on her lower back, supporting her and preventing her escape.

  “I need…”

  “Not yet,” he said softly against her ear.

  “I’m so wet, Sir. I…” She was losing control. Against his orders, she unclasped her hands and reached for his shoulders to steady herself.

  “That’s earned you a punishment,” he said.

  She was beyond caring. She needed him, his touch, and she needed an orgasm like she needed her next breath. “More,” she pleaded. “Just stop that.” Even to her own ears, she sounded ridiculous. She wanted more and she wanted him to stop?

  He didn’t seem puzzled at all.

  He moved the vibrator faster and faster, then he inserted the tip inside her. The sensations seemed to change, becoming more powerful.

  She tossed her head back and forth as she sought to hold on. Despite the air conditioning, perspiration dotted her back.

  Her temporary Dom was relentless. He fucked her with the vibrator. He slid it between her folds. He pulled back the hood of her clit and touched the pointed tip against the swollen nub.

  She cried out, on the verge. She was almost there…

  Then suddenly he stopped.

  He turned off the vibrator and pulled his hand away.

  She collapsed. He caught her and held her close. She felt the strength of his arms as she snuggled against his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat, combined with his heat, and the salty crispness of ocean air, gave her comfort she’d never felt before. It was as if he understood her better than any man ever had.

  “Naughty sub, almost coming.”

  Her whole body was still shaking. She’d never been so close to a climax only to be denied. Every nerve ending felt as if it were on fire. She was desperate for relief. “Please… I want… I need…” She could hardly think. “Please fuck me, Sir.” He’d told her when they first started that he’d make her beg. She’d tossed his words back at him. It hadn’t taken him half an hour to thoroughly prove his point.