Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

Her turn to blink in surprise. She turned to look up at him. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. Silly pet. One of these days I’ll beat it into your ass that sometimes I want you to challenge me and to not just roll over.”

She grinned. “But maybe I like it when you beat my ass.”

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. “I like it when I beat your ass, too, pet. That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”

Tilly knocked and walked in without waiting for an answer. “You, out!” she said to Tony. “I need to finish helping her with her hair and makeup. You can maul her tonight. Right now, she’s ours.”

Shayla laughed. “I think she means it, Sir.”

“I know she means it. That’s why I’m getting the hell out.” He headed for what he hoped was the safety of the kitchen.

Seth, Tony’s best man, walked up to him. “Ready? We’ve got everyone gathered outside.”

“I think so.” He straightened his jacket. Thank god Shayla hadn’t wanted formal tuxes. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re feeling better than I felt on my wedding day,” he said with a smirk. “Lucky bastard.”

Tony grinned. “I am definitely one lucky bastard,” he agreed.

Leah walked up and playfully poked him in the shoulder. “Hey, I have a message to pass along.” At both weddings, Leah would be Shay’s matron of honor.

“You do, huh?”

“From myself, Loren, Tilly, and Clarisse.”

“And how did you get to be the designated bearer of bad tidings?”

She frowned. “It’s not bad. And because it’s my house.”

“Well?”

She poked him in the chest. “If you ever leave her or break her heart, Tilly volunteers Landry and Cris to hold you down while the rest of us practice a game of Dom Disembowelment on you. Capisce?” A smile broke through. She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek before reaching up to straighten his tie. Her eyes looked too bright, like she was close to tears.

Happy ones this time, thank god. Such a great sight compared to the depths of her despair just a couple of years earlier.

He laughed and looked at Seth. “Can’t you get your damn mouthy slave under control?”

Seth hooked an arm around Leah’s waist and pulled her close. “Not until after the last ceremony. It’ll smear her makeup and Loren will noogie me.”

The real wedding went off without a hitch. The men of the wedding party were shoved into one limo while the women gathered in another for the ride to the hotel on Siesta Key where Shayla’s parents and brother were staying, and where the reception was being held.

The weather cooperated for the beach wedding redux. Tony whispered in her ear after kissing her for the second time at Loren’s instruction. “If you weren’t mine before, you’re doubly mine now.”

She smiled and touched the heart-shaped tag on her necklace. “Triply, Sir,” she whispered. “And as many times as I need to know I’m yours.”

Seth leaned in. “Lucky bastard,” he said with a smile.

Shayla awoke early Saturday morning and pounced on Tony. “Wake up, Sir!”

He slowly peeled one eyelid open to peer at her. “What time is it, pet?” he groggily mumbled.

“Seven thirty.”

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Five more minutes. And coffee, dammit.”

She giggled. “Yes, Sir. Coming right up.” Wearing nothing but her collar and leather wrist cuffs, she bounced out of bed and went to the kitchen to get the coffee started. When she returned to the bedroom five minutes later, she carried his mug of coffee, which she’d prepared exactly the way he liked.

She set the mug on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets and finding his cock. He was already slightly hard from a morning woody. She engulfed him with her mouth and slowly laved her tongue around the head. In seconds, he was fully hard.

Tony let out a groan and rolled onto his back. She smiled to herself as his fingers tangled in her hair and held on, using it as leverage to urge her deeper and faster.

Shayla knew she’d get a spanking for this and didn’t care. In fact, she was counting on it.

Deeper, faster, his pre-cum sweetly salty on her tongue, rewarding her efforts. It only took a couple of minutes. She cupped his sac with one hand while encircling the base of his shaft with the other. When she felt his balls draw up tight against her palm, she knew he was close. She went deep, swallowing him and moaning as his fingers dug into her scalp and his whole body tensed. He let out a grunt and then jets of his cum filled her mouth.

She eagerly swallowed every drop. She wouldn’t let go after he went soft once again, either, gently coaxing every last drop she could from his cock.

He stroked her head before making her let go. “Good girl,” he mumbled. “That’s five.”

She giggled. “I know, Sir.”

He raised the sheet up to look down at her. Waking Sir up without coffee being ready first was five strokes. Cane or hand or paddle, his choice. His sleepy smile warmed her heart.

He threw the sheet back and shoved his pillow up against the headboard. Then he patted his lap. “Let’s get it over with, pet.”

She practically threw herself over his thighs, head to the left as always so he could spank her right-handed.

As the fingers of his left hand hooked around her collar, she spread her legs a little. His right palm settled over her ass, stroking sweetly.

Then it fell still.

He did it fast and hard, delivering all five blows without drawing it out. It left her gasping with pain and need when he finished.

“Aw, is my poor pet horny?”

She kept her face buried in the sheets. “Yes, Sir.”

He laughed and patted her ass. “Over the bed, feet on the floor. I’ll be right back.”

She assumed the position as instructed, her nipples rubbing against the sheets and causing more erotic friction that didn’t help matters any. He’d mentioned taking her to get her nipples pierced. The thought both terrified her and thrilled her at the same time. It was something he’d left the decision about to her, and yet she couldn’t make up her mind. Loren swore by hers, said it made sex that much hotter.

She was considering turning the decision back over to him. She wanted to do it, but knew if it was up to her she wouldn’t.

She’d rather he make her do it.

She heard him in the bathroom. Then he walked down the hall. Somewhere she heard a door open and close and suspected he’d gone to the playroom.

Her whole body heated. No telling what he’d come back with.

When she heard him return, before he even reached the bedroom door he said, “No peeking. Face down.”

She closed her eyes and kept them closed.

She sensed him walk into the bedroom and then the heat from his body brushed against her thighs before he ever made contact with her. When he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, she heard the snap of a clip being attached to them, immobilizing her.

He laid something down on the bed next to her. Then came the feel of his thighs pressing against the back of her legs as he rubbed what felt like an enormous dildo between her legs.

Oh, crap.

He chuckled, apparently reading her body language. “Yes, you’ve earned the wrath of Khan this morning,” he teased. The large dildo was at the upper end of her ability to take. He’d joked that he named it that because of the scream of “Khaaaannnn!” that Captain Kirk let out in the movie.

Tony said it sounded like some of the noises she made when he used it on her.

She whimpered as he slowly began working it inside her. Oh, he was going to really torture her this morning. Usually keeping her on edge for a while. She felt him pause and then heard him sipping his coffee before he set the mug on the table again.

The forward progress continued. Khan stretched her, rubbing all the right places inside her. Halfway in, Tony slowly started fucking it in and out, each stroke a little deeper than the last, until he finally had its entire eight fat inches buried inside her and she felt the strap-on harness pressed against her ass.

Then he stopped.

Her muscles clenched around the toy, her need growing as she realized just how long he might draw this out this morning. “That’s right, pet. Might as well practice your Kegels on it for a few minutes. You know what happens when you’re too eager and don’t have my coffee ready. Feel free to squirm around all you want.” He pressed forward, which pinned her thighs against the bed.

With her wrists trapped behind her, all she could do was squirm against it. As she did, he lightly slapped her ass with what she guessed to be a small leather slapper. Barely stingy, it only served to add to her sexual frustration.

“Aww, my poor pet. Are you horny?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Serves you right.” He grabbed her wrists and fucked her hard for a few seconds before falling still again and leaving her even more frustrated. He repeated this for nearly half an hour, even turning on the TV to the morning news to watch while she begged for release and her thighs ached from the position.

“Please, Sir! Please, I’ll do anything. Please make me come!”

He chuckled and leaned in to nip her ear. “Well, let’s see. I’m feeling generous. I think when we go out today, pet will wear the short pink sundress I bought for you last weekend, no panties, and those high, strappy sandals I like. Either that, or another hour of this.”

She froze. He never dictated her work clothes. But when they were home, he often played barter games for her to wear what he wanted, making her choose between selecting sexy items he loved seeing her in simply for the sadistic pleasure of knowing how embarrassed it sometimes made her, or torture.