A Dom and His Writer

by Xenia Melzer

  Martin patted him on the shoulder. “You look good, man. Go show your boy who’s boss.”

  Richard rolled his shoulders and flexed his biceps. “That I will do.”

  Chapter 3

  IN THE playroom, Dean knelt on the mat, his knees spread wide, his ass resting on his heels, his hands folded behind his head to showcase his muscles. He was still rock-hard from the drive there, and the anticipation of what was to come made him wince. Richard knew him better than anybody else in the world. He could play Dean’s body like an instrument, make him sing.

  The door opened, and Dean’s entire focus went straight to the man who entered. Richard was one fine-looking man with his dark skin against which the silver D-ring of his leather harness shone like a beacon, the hard muscles that gleamed in the light, the sensuous lips that could kiss so well, and the large hazel eyes that seemed to look right through him and shone with love every time their gazes met. Dean knew he was one lucky bastard.

  “Nice positon, boy. You did well.”

  Dean kept his gaze trained to the floor but felt a flash of pride surge through him. His master was pleased! Richard approached him slowly, letting his eyes take in every inch of Dean’s pale skin.

  It was an intimate caress that made Dean tremble with need. Richard finally stopped in front of him, his voice deep and demanding. “As I said, I have great plans for you today, boy. But you made me so hot on our way here, I need your mouth first.”

  Richard opened his pants to let his impressive cock free. Dean was not a small man himself, but Richard was huge, and sometimes Dean wondered how he managed to take the man in so easily. It was, most probably, because they were made for each other.

  He opened his mouth to lick at the first beads of precum on the thick, dark head. His master’s taste was intoxicating, and Dean started his ministrations in earnest. He swirled his tongue around the head just like his master had done with Dean’s fingers in the car. Then he started to suck and swallow, trying to take in as much of the thick meat as he could.

  Dean had never managed to deep throat Richard. His gag reflex was too strong for that. He made up for it by creating as much suction as possible and by using his highly flexible tongue to bring his master the ultimate pleasure. Dean loved sucking his Dom; it gave him a chance to reciprocate the wonderful things Richard did to him.

  Richard’s hands were buried in Dean’s hair, fisting the strands as he pistoned into Dean’s mouth, his movements already rapid, warning of his oncoming orgasm. Then he suddenly stilled, his dick pulsed inside Dean’s mouth, and hot cum shot down his throat. Dean tried his best to swallow it all, gulping down his master’s seed greedily. He kept on sucking, trying to milk the last drop from Richard, before he slipped his cock out from Dean’s eager lips.

  “You really are a needy slut, boy. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

  Dean licked his lips but couldn’t answer. The act of sucking his master had made his own cock even harder, and the need to find release was riding him hard. He had to fight to keep himself from coming right then. Richard touched his shoulder lightly, both to reassure him that he was doing well and to get his attention.

  “Rise, boy. Go over to the cross.”

  Gracefully, Dean walked to the huge St. Andrew’s cross situated in the far left corner of the room, opposite the four-poster bed. It was a massive thing of beauty, the oak wood polished to a sheen, the surface as smooth as the finest silk. The cuffs dangling from the cross were made of soft, padded leather and already set to Dean’s height, another small service the club offered to make its customers happy. The measurements of all subs were in a database so a Dom didn’t have to waste precious time adjusting the equipment.

  Richard was right behind Dean, his hot breath like a breeze on Dean’s cheek. “Lift your arms.”

  Dean obeyed immediately, letting out a needy whimper when the cuffs closed around his wrists. Richard bent down to secure his ankles as well. His big hands glided over Dean’s skin in a reassuring manner, setting his nerve endings on fire. When he reached Dean’s ass, Richard pinched the two globes hard. Dean let out a pained cry, his cock jerking, begging for release. Richard reached around him to grab the throbbing shaft with his right hand, and started pumping lazily.

  “We haven’t even started and you’re already at your limit? Don’t make this too easy, boy. I want to challenge you tonight. I want to push you way past your limits. Hold it in. Do it for me.”

  “For you, Master. For you. Yes.”

  “For me. Only for me. I’ll use the flogger on you, boy. I’m going to mark this beautiful back with stripes, show everybody to whom you belong. Do you want that, boy?”

  “Yes, Master. Please, do it. Mark me.”

  Richard placed a kiss on Dean’s nape. Then he stepped back to retrieve the flogger he had selected from one of the cabinets on the wall. Slowly he let the leather strips glide over Dean’s skin, causing him to wince.

  Then he raised his arm and swung the flogger for the first time. Dean let out a grunt when the first blows hit him, the sting something he always had to get used to in the beginning. Soon he started leaning into each strike, welcoming the pain. He sank deeper into his headspace and forgot about everything except the pain and heat radiating through his body and the presence of his master, who made him fly.

  When the familiar tingling in his lower back alerted him to his oncoming orgasm, Dean managed to pry himself from his trancelike state enough to beg for mercy. “Master! I’m close. Please!”

  Dean didn’t know if he was begging to come or asking Richard to help him control his need. It didn’t matter. Whatever his Dom decided would be the right thing. The flogging stopped. Richard’s hands ghosted over Dean’s burning back before he started licking and biting the welts. The new sensation was enough to distract Dean from his need to come. When he was sure he was in control again, he turned his head as far as his bindings would allow. “Thank you, Master.”

  Richard took Dean’s chin in his hands and kissed him deeply before releasing him again. “You’re welcome, boy. Even though I do wish to push you, I don’t want it to end yet.”

  His hands reached for Dean’s ass and squeezed, causing the plug to hit Dean’s gland. “I still haven’t abused your ass yet. We will try the riding crop today. See if you can take eight blows.”

  Dean moaned. The crop was one of his favorite toys. Richard mentioning it alone made Dean’s cock jerk and precum flow from his slit.

  “You’re going to beg me for each blow. And after you receive it, you will count and thank me for giving to you what you need. Do you understand, boy?”

  The visuals Richard invoked with his deep voice were intoxicating. Dean couldn’t find the strength to speak. He nodded, hoping his master would be satisfied with that. For once, Richard let this nonverbal response slide. Dean could feel his Dom shifting behind him as he replaced the flogger with the crop. It wasn’t a long one, merely a foot, but the core, probably birchwood, was wrapped in leather. Dean knew it would hurt just right.

  Richard caressed his asscheeks with the flexible length, which made Dean squirm in his restraints. “Please, Master. I’m begging you! Let me feel it!”

  Richard brought the crop down hard on Dean’s backside. Dean just had time to register the whooshing sound in the air before a trail of fire appeared across his right cheek. He screamed at the intense pain but didn’t forget his master’s instructions. “One. Thank you, Master. Please, let me feel it again.”

  The crop flew once more, bringing tears to Dean’s eyes. “Two. Thank you, Master. Please, again.”

  Dean managed to get through the third and fourth before he started to cry. The tears streamed down his cheeks, his breathing became labored, his body so alive with different sensations he thought he would pass out any moment.

  Richard paused. “Are you all right, boy?”

  Dean sucked in air. He was tempted to call “manga chick,” his safeword equivalent to “yellow,” but decided not t
o do it. After all, this night was about pushing himself, and the short interruption had been enough for him to gather his strength again. “I’m fine, Master. Please, don’t stop. Make me feel it.”

  Richard pressed a kiss on Dean’s sweat-covered temple before he brought the crop down again. “Five. Thank you, Master. Please, again.”

  The sixth blow had Dean arching his back in pain. The seventh made stars explode in front of his eyes before his vision darkened momentarily. The eighth blow left him sobbing, unable to form a coherent word. His cock was straining, glistening with even more precum and an angry red, the veins looking like they would burst any moment.

  Richard set the crop aside and ran his hands soothingly over Dean’s arms and ribs, making soft sounds in the back of his throat. “Shh. You did so well, boy. I’m so proud. Such a good, strong boy. You are my pride, my sweet one.”

  Between his sobs, Dean felt a smile crease his lips. Richard only reverted to sweet talk when he was extremely pleased. His master’s obviously splendid mood helped Dean to regain his composure. “Thank you, Master. This was good.”

  “I’m going to make it even better.” Richard’s hands were once again on Dean’s cock, stroking and pumping, teasing him. “I’m going to remove the plug now and fuck you good and hard. I’m going to work your prostate until you can only think of coming, but you are not allowed, do you hear me? You have to keep it in. Otherwise I’ll punish you for the entire week.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Richard grabbed the base of the plug and twisted it around a few times, making sure it hit Dean’s gland and made his hips jerk, before he pulled it out. Then he poured a generous amount of lube on his own cock, aligned the head with Dean’s twitching hole, and plunged right in.

  Dean threw his head back, screaming like he had under the crop. Nothing felt as good as his master’s thick cock buried deep inside him. Nothing came close to the feel of Richard’s big hands spanning his hips, digging his nails into the sensitive flesh of his groin while he started a relentless rhythm. Since they were both primed, there was no need to go slow. The pounding grew in intensity, and when Richard changed the angle of his thrusts, Dean knew he would lose this challenge. He cried out, warning his master again that he could no longer hold back. Only this time Richard didn’t stop. Instead he grabbed Dean’s hips even harder and added a vicious twist to his thrusts.

  “Come on, boy. Give me a reason to punish you for the rest of the week. I’m going to put a cock cage on you, the heavy one with the fat plug for your asshole. I won’t allow you to come even once until next Saturday, but I’m going to fuck you every chance I get. Your hole will be filled the entire time, either by me or the plug. And every evening you will lie down and spread yourself for me, beg me to whip your hole before I sink my big, fat cock into you.”

  Dean groaned. The words alone made him dizzy. The tingling in his back was getting more intense. He made one last effort to control his orgasm, but Richard chose that moment to thrust in deep and hit his gland full-on.

  Dean was lost. He arched his back as his cock started to pulse, and the cum shot out of him in a thick stream. It seemed as if his balls wouldn’t stop, and he didn’t even register when Richard unsnapped the cock ring so that his spunk could flow freely.

  Through it all, Richard held him tight, finding his own release deep inside Dean’s body, his semen filling Dean up. After they were both spent, they remained in their position, Richard buried deep inside Dean, his strong arms encircling his sub like a delicious cage made of flesh.

  Once their panting eased, Richard slid from Dean and started undoing the cuffs. He then carried him to the bed, snatched two bottles of water, wrapped Dean in a soft blanket, and cuddled him close. They remained silent for some time, basking in the afterglow of the truly wonderful scene they had just shared.

  “You were really good today, boy. I’m very pleased.”

  Dean snuggled closer to Richard’s chest, a lazy smile on his lips. “You’re twisted. I disobeyed you. I came. Yet you say you’re pleased.”

  There was a teasing note to Dean’s voice. It was clear how well he understood Richard’s intentions.

  “I asked you to give me a reason to punish you for the rest of the week and you did. What is there not to be pleased about?”

  Dean stretched his legs. “Nothing, I guess. My brain’s not working properly at the moment. All fuzzy.”

  “Then sleep, my precious. You’ve earned it.”

  The soft kiss to his head was the last thing Dean was aware of for quite some time before Richard carried him to the car to drive home.

  Chapter 4

  THE NEXT morning, Richard woke to the enticing scent of freshly brewed coffee. Sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, promising yet another nice, sunny day. Richard had set the alarm clock deliberately late, not at the usual seven o’clock. After such an intense scene, he and Dean both needed time to recover.

  Richard sat up in bed, glancing at Dean, who was kneeling next to the bed, his gaze cast down, his posture perfect. Next to him was the tray with two cups of coffee and their breakfast. Even though neither of them was any good in the kitchen, they still knew how to push the button on a coffeemaker, and yogurt and cereal were impossible to muck up. Add a little fruit prepared by the housekeeper and left in the fridge, and breakfast was actually enjoyable. Of course, the presence of his lover, naked and totally submissive, was an added bonus. Richard reached down to pat Dean’s head in recognition of his services.

  “Thank you, boy. That looks delicious. Now hand me the tray and then come in here. I want you to join me today.”

  Dean did as instructed without questioning his master’s orders. They had been together long enough for him to trust Richard completely in everything. Richard pulled Dean close, kissed him deeply, and then put one of the bowls in his hands. “Eat. Yesterday was strenuous.”

  Dean blushed just the tiniest bit, which was beyond adorable. Richard couldn’t resist putting another quick kiss on the man’s nose before he started eating himself. “As for your punishment, I will give you the cock cage after we shower. You know why I’m punishing you, boy?”

  Dean swallowed the mouthful he had just taken. “Yes, Master. I came without permission.”

  “You did. We can’t have that. You need to learn more self-restraint.”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, I’ve been thinking about taking a trip to Vegas next week. We haven’t been there for quite some time, and I’m itching for some fun.”

  Dean took a sip of his coffee as if to hide his reaction. Richard knew it wasn’t that he didn’t like Vegas; he just couldn’t see the fun in gambling. While he didn’t complain, he never lingered in the vast halls with their blinking slot machines, and Richard suspected watching him play poker all night bored Dean out of his mind.

  Richard tugged him closer. “I’m going to book you a day at the spa. What do you think?”

  Dean put the coffee aside, a satisfied smile on his lips. “You know you had me at the word spa, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. It’s your kryptonite. Massages and treatments. I don’t get it, but whatever makes my boy happy.”

  “A trip to a spa always makes me happy. Thank you.”

  “I haven’t booked it yet.”

  “But you will as soon as we’re out of bed. I know you, Master. You’re a go-getter.”

  Richard chuckled, pleased by their easy bantering. “That I am. How’s your book coming along?”

  A shadow crossed Dean’s features, and Richard knew something was wrong. He had suspected as much for the last three days but hadn’t pressed the matter. Now he wondered if he should have said something sooner. “What’s the problem, Dean?”

  It couldn’t be writer’s block. Dean didn’t even know how to spell that. He was like a well, constantly coming up with new ideas. If anything, the day had not enough hours for him to follow through with every inspiration he got. Dean looked uncomfortable enough for Richard to
start worrying. “Dean?”

  “It’s the cover for my next thriller. I told them what I wanted, in great detail, but they just went and did something else, and I don’t like it. When I told them so, they said something about marketing and the right target group, and then I just kind of faded out of the conversation.”

  “Dean. You should know better.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just didn’t want to ruin our anniversary.”

  “Which is noble and also unnecessary. You bring your worries to me, just like you trust me to make the right decisions for both of us. Now get me my phone.”

  And that was the trouble with Dean. Nothing besides his writing could hold his interest for any amount of time. If he was unhappy with the cover, he would say so once, and if things didn’t change, he would simply give up. It still upset him greatly; he just couldn’t muster the energy to argue with whoever was in charge.

  At the beginning of their relationship, Richard had tried to get Dean a competent agent to take care of things like covers and manuscript changes, but after half a year of fruitless interviews, he had given up. There was nobody out there fit to take care of his boy’s needs, so Richard had taken that task on himself. He was rich and influential enough to be recognized in the literary world without being an actual part of it, and he never wasted time. Saved on his phone were the numbers of all the big bosses, so when there was a problem, he went straight to the top. Just like now. After only two rings, his call was picked up.

  “Mr. Miller. It’s so nice to hear from you.”

  “Nice talking to you as well, Sebastian. I’m having a minor problem, and I know you’re the man to fix it.”