The Denim Dom (Siren Publishing Sensations) (24 page)

Shayla’s throat suddenly went dry.
This is really happening.

She felt her cheek with the back of her hand. She knew as hot as her face felt, it had to be bright red. But barely anyone seemed to pay attention to her sitting there.

Tony returned with his things and pointed at the floor.

Running on instinct, she dropped to her knees and resisted the urge to stare at the floor.

He stroked her hair. “How’s my pet?”

“Green, Sir.”
If a racing pulse, cold sweat, and dry throat are
green
, I’m peachy.

“Good girl. I’m going to get my things ready. Do you need to use the bathroom?”

She’d gone maybe ten minutes earlier and didn’t feel right using that as an excuse to stall. “No, Sir.”

“Okay.”

He opened the bag and cane tube. He rearranged a few things in his bag and laid out several implements from the cane tube on the inside of the open top of the bag. He also draped a large towel over the bench and pulled out several lengths of pink rope.

Once he had everything ready, he held out a hand to her to help her to her feet. In his other hand he held the blindfold he’d used on her earlier. He led her over to the end of the bench and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Give me your thong, pet.”

Her cheeks still ablaze, she reached under her sundress and pulled it off and handed it to him.

“Good girl.” He buckled the blindfold on her and placed her hands on the bench. “Climb on.” He helped her get positioned the way he wanted her. Then he quickly bound her arms to the bench with the rope, using the cuffs as well. He followed by binding her ankles and calves to the bench.

When he told her to test the restraints, she could barely move.

She sensed him squat in front of her. “Remember, I will be the only one touching you, pet. The only hands you’ll feel on you will be mine. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“How are you?”

“Green, Sir.”

He kissed her forehead, sending a gentle shiver of anticipation through her. “Good girl.”

She sensed him move away again. She startled a little at the feel of him working her skirt up, pulling it out of the way and bunching the material on her back, leaving her bare and exposed from the waist down.

And still she knew her cunt was wet, embarrassingly so. Her clit throbbed and from her position on the bench she now understood why Valerie had been trying to rub herself into an orgasm the week before.

Shut. Brain. Off.

He started massaging her with his strong, warm hands, simultaneously relaxing her and driving her need even higher. Now she comprehended why he’d said he would refuse to broaden the limits of a scene in the middle of it.

Hell, if he asked to fuck me right now, I’d gladly let him.

The thought scared and thrilled her at the same time.

The first light, stinging slap brought her mind sharply back into focus on the scene and what Tony was doing to her. He alternated slapping her ass cheeks, back and forth, gradually increasing in force until the warmth turned into an itchy sting that soon transitioned into a borderline-painful smack.

He stopped, rubbing her ass, kneading her flesh with both hands. “Where are we, pet?”

“Green, Sir,” she mumbled.

“Good girl.”

He disappeared for a moment. When he returned, she felt him drape something along her ass and legs. “Floggers, pet. Relax and enjoy it.” He apparently had two of them and soon set a rhythm that made her want to melt into the bench. The definition of
thuddy
completely clarified in her mind as he worked up and down her body with them.

She suddenly wished she was totally naked on the bench, so she could feel the suede falls all over her back and shoulders and not through the fabric of her sundress.

After several minutes of that he switched to a different set of floggers. She immediately felt the difference. While still thuddy, the falls on these were heavier, stiffer, and delivered a little more bite with each impact.

That ceased. Both his hands made contact with her ass cheeks at the same time, a hard, stinging blow that made her
yip
and strain a little against her bonds.

His voice had grown deeper, commanding. “Color, pet.”

“Green, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

She felt something flat and cool against her ass. “Time to step things up a little, pet.” One of his hands pressed down in the center of her back at the same time he delivered a stingy blow with what was obviously a paddle. She let out a startled screech, but he pressed down harder on her back. “Take it for me or safeword, pet.” The blows continued, varying in location all over her ass and the backs of her thighs, ranging in strength from light to hard and stingy enough to make her cry out and try to twist away from him.

He started a crescendo of blows she thought she’d have to safeword over when he suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping for breath and trying to process it.

His hands returned. He gently stroked her flesh, soothing the sting away. Cool air from the room brushed against her pussy and she realized just how wet she was. If it wasn’t for the towel, she’d likely have a puddle forming under her.

She sensed him walk around in front of her again. His voice whispered in her ear. “Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you. You’re doing great.”

Inside her, a switch she’d never been aware existed flipped open. A wave of desire to please him, to make him happy and keep the praise coming flooded through her entire being. She no longer cared what he did or how much it hurt, if it meant he’d keep saying that to her in that same, damn, delicious tone of voice.

She’d take every last bit of it.

He kissed her forehead before disappearing again. A moment later he laid something hard and thin across her ass. “Riding crop, pet.”

He started lightly at first, working up and down her ass and thighs and even the backs of her lower legs. He increased the impacts until she was yelping with every blow, straining and pulling, her struggles only serving to increase the friction against her clit.

He stopped, a laugh reaching her ears. “Squirmy pet. Give me a color.”

“Green, Sir,” she gasped.

“Good girl.” He paused and she felt him circling her midsection with several loops of rope, tightening it and securing her even more firmly to the bench. “That will keep you still.”

Then he picked up where he left off with the riding crop. His strokes came from everywhere, keeping her guessing where he’d strike next, even a few of them lightly flicking her clit and making her jump as well as gasp with pleasure.

He stopped and she wondered where the next blows would land.

Then, they didn’t.

She had a few more seconds to wonder about this when she felt something pressed against her labia, stroking up and down. She groaned and tried to lift her hips but the rope held her down.

He laughed. “Pet likes this. It think pet will like it even more in a minute.” Whatever it was, it wasn’t the same vibrator he’d used on her before. It felt larger, like a dildo. He slowly pressed it forward, deeper, back and forth until it slid between her lips and she let out a moan of pleasure at the feel of its size stretching her. He took his time fucking her with it until it was deeply buried inside her.

“How’s my pet?”

She had to lick her lips to speak. “Green, Sir,” she whispered, not trusting her own voice.

He chuckled. She felt him holding the dildo with one hand, but sensed he changed position.

Then he smacked her with a different paddle, definitely a heavier one than the first one he’d used, but kept the strokes on the pleasant side of pain.

And he started fucking her with the dildo.

Pleasure and pain danced together in her body, her mind unable to separate the two and finally deciding it didn’t matter. She moaned as he stroked harder and faster with the dildo, the strokes from the paddle also increasing in strength until she didn’t know if her moans were from pleasure or pain.

Then he hit a switch and the dildo turned into a buzzing vibrator and he stopped with the paddle.

She felt like her body would come unglued. Her back arched, straining against the ropes as the orgasm ripped through her.

“That’s it, pet,” he said, his stern tone only increasing her pleasure. “Come for me.” He fucked her hard with the vibrator, relentlessly, until tears rolled down her face from the force of the climax shattering her body.

Then came the strokes from another implement. “Take these cane strokes, pet. Take them for me.”

The hand holding the vibrator slowed down, but each slash from the cane left a streak of fire across her already tender ass. She lost count how many cane strokes he gave her, but she cried out in pain at each one.

Then he rolled out his next trick—he turned up the speed on the vibrator and began fucking her hard with it as he delivered several more excruciatingly painful cane strokes to the backs of her thighs. The pain kept her climax at bay, barely, until suddenly the cane was gone and only the vibrator was left, fucking her hard and deep.

A loud cry rolled out of her. She clawed at the air with her hands, the ropes keeping her in place so Tony could continue fucking her with the vibrator.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed. “Look at how hard you’re coming for me.”

She sobbed as another orgasm bubbled up from deep inside her. Tears ran down her face and she was glad for the blindfold hiding the world from her. Her existence had shrunk to his voice, his hands, and pleasure so mind-bogglingly strong it bordered on pain.

He yanked the vibrator from her, making her yelp in surprise as he started spanking her with his bare hand again. No quarter given, the hard slaps shook her entire body and left her brain scrambled as her greedy cunt and throbbing clit begged for more from the vibrator.

Somewhere, she still heard the vibrator buzzing, but the pain in her ass had started outweighing the residual pleasure from the orgasms. She twisted, sobbing, squirming, and unable to escape the blows.

Then he rubbed the vibrator up and down her pussy again. “Is this what you want, pet? Is this what you’re missing?”

“Yes, Sir!” she sobbed, trying to arch into it as he kept it tantalizingly out of reach.

“You have to pay the piper, pet. Pleasure doesn’t come without pain.”

She felt a hard, deep, thuddy blow on her ass that made her cry out. The vibrator returned. Another blow, on her other ass cheek, and more vibration. Then he slowly inserted the vibrator, timing his thrusts with it, hard and deep ones, with each blow from the newest implement.

“The infamous silicone spoon, pet. Let’s see how much you like it.”

The vibrator clicked into a higher speed.

He fucked her hard and fast with it, each stroke earning her another hit with the spoon until reality upended yet again. She let out a loud, long cry when the climax exploded through her. She fucked herself back against the pleasure and the pain until he delivered a crescendo of strokes inside and out before the spoon disappeared.

Leaving only the vibrator in her pussy on high.

She felt him stand behind the bench, the denim of his jeans rough against her sore ass, his hip pressed between her thighs and holding the vibrator inside her. His fingers sunk into her hips just below where the rope had her immobilized. “Fuck it, pet. Fuck that cock.”

She frantically rocked herself against it and him, his hands helping her, pulling her, the toy bottoming out at the bottom of each stroke and making her scream in pleasure as one more orgasm took her breath away until she lay shuddering on the bench, all strength gone.

His body disappeared. Then the vibrator was gently removed from her, and she heard it shut off.

He pulled the skirt of her dress down over her ass and moved to her head where she still sobbed, unable to process anything.

He kissed her forehead. “Color, pet,” he whispered in her ear.

“Green, Sir.”

His lips pressed against her forehead again, lingering for several long, tender seconds. “Such a good girl. You made me very proud.”

This brought a new round of tears she couldn’t and didn’t want to understand. She lay there while he quickly worked to untie her. She felt him drape a light throw over her. “Don’t move yet, pet.”

Not that she could if she’d wanted to.

He disappeared for only a moment before returning again. His arms enveloped her, helping her stand, then scooping her up, blanket and all, when her knees gave out.

“I’ll get the bench for you, Tony,” she heard Leah softly say somewhere to their left. “You take care of her.”

“Thanks.”

He carried her, still blindfolded, through the play space. She draped her arms around his neck and kept her face buried against his chest. He smelled warm and musky, no cologne, just laundry detergent and soap and shampoo.

She felt him turn and sit and realized he’d carried her over to the couches.