Bad Boy Dom (4 page)

“It’s
Krispin Righteous, Mistress.”

“Yes,
it is and I want your body to dance to his voice. I want your pussy to throb
with the vibrations of his vocal cords, and I want you to imagine being fucked
by him. I want to hear every orgasm you’re having. I want them loud.”

It
was torture. It was raw. And these were undeniably the best orgasms I’d ever
experienced. So much pain and pleasure, all at the hands of my Mistress, with his
throaty voice of pure sex in the background, blending with my cries of ecstasy,
until finally I begged her to stop.

Kris…

Nicole
was not exactly what I needed, but she was close. Damian made sure I sat and
spoke to the eager sub and reviewed her wants and needs as well as her hard
limits. She had few, but I was comfortable with only going so far. I remembered
what Lydia said about her career and asked her questions during aftercare. It
was the first time I worked on enjoying the experience. I was glad I did.
Nicole was a medical examiner. I found it fascinating and my usual fifteen
minutes turned into an hour.

She
spoke softly about her work and obviously loved her job. She never asked about
my band or for me to sing for her. It was surprisingly pleasant and made me
forget the gorgeous brunette sub for a while.

Unfortunately,
when I left Nicole at the club and went to my room, my dreams were filled with
every conceivable first meeting I might have with the mysterious, green-eyed sub.
I woke up with a throbbing hard-on and equally throbbing headache. I stepped
into a hot shower hoping for relief from at least one of my torments.

Getting
out of the shower, I called room service for coffee. I had barely put the phone
down when knock sounded at my door. Wrapped in a towel, I answered to find
Lydia, a stroller, and a guitar case.

“I
see you’re not quite ready for company.”

“I
just need pants,” I smiled. “Coffee is on its way so the chances are good that
I won’t eat your child.”

Abigail
reached a hand toward me and I would have scooped her up but I was afraid the
towel would slip and her mommy would get the full effect of my softening boner.
“Pants first and then baby drool if you don’t mind.”

Abigail
didn’t like my rejection and her shrill cry rang throughout my poor head.
Lydia’s laughter didn’t help.

I
walked away, turning my back, and pulled on my dirty jeans from the day before,
complete with underwear stuck in the legs which only added to the convenience
of leaving clothes lying around. I was damn good at being a bachelor.

I
didn’t bother with a shirt, but walked back over to the stroller. It took a
moment but I figured out the latched straps and picked up my screaming early
morning fan.

One
lone tear ran down her face. I couldn’t help myself and kissed it from her
cheek.

“Her
girlfriends will be so jealous when I tell this story,” Lydia laughed.

“Fame
is short-lived and her girlfriends won’t be as impressed as you seem to think
by the time you get to tell the story.”

Abigail’s
cries faded to gulps and a quivering lower lip. Her hand reached my chest hair
without me realizing what she was going for and my loud, “Ouch,” made her
mother laugh louder.

“Chest
hair is new to her because Damian has his waxed.”

“I
understand why, but that sounds damned painful, too.”

“You
guys are such sissies.”

“Please
don’t expect an argument from me. Women can keep childbirth and cramps. I’ll
settle for football and beer.”

“Wise
choice. Who’s your team?”

“There’s
only one team.”

“And
that would be?”

“Broncos,
the best the NFL has to offer.”

“We
will agree to disagree on that one. My husband would kill me if I didn’t support
the Texans.”

“They
suck, but like you say, we’ll agree to disagree.”

I
sat on the couch and unwrapped tiny fingers from my chest’s short and curlies.
Lydia picked up a t-shirt from the corner of the chair and handed it to me
before sitting down on the floor and crossing her legs.

“She
has a one track mind after she finds a new toy. It’s too early to hear your
sobs so the best thing to do is cover yourself.”

I
placed Abigail on the couch by my side and quickly pulled the shirt over my
head. She didn’t seem to mind and crawled back into my lap.

“She
really does like you.”

“She
gets her good taste from her father, I’m sure.”

Lydia
laughed again but then became serious. “I spoke to Nicole late last night.
You’re a good dom.”

“We
can agree to disagree again. I want to be a good Dom but I’ve made past
mistakes and have a lot to make up for.”

She
ignored my statement. “What did you think of Nicole?”

“I
liked her. I liked her a lot, but will the truth piss you off?”

“I
prefer the truth.”

“I
dreamed the entire night of a beautiful, leggy brunette and I don’t even know
her name.”

A
long sigh met my answer. I took my eyes off Abigail and looked at her mother.

“Her
name is Angela.” An unflinching stare came with Lydia’s words.

“Why
don’t you want me around her?” I knew the answer. My past was not a good one
but I needed to hear her say it. But, I didn’t get exactly what I wanted.

“You’re
both wounded,” she said. “You could be the best thing that ever happened to
each other or the worst. I don’t think I can take that chance with Angela. I
care too deeply.”

My
heart dropped into my belly. I didn’t want to hear about Angela, my erotic
dream girl, being damaged. It hurt and I didn’t know why.

I
met the blue eyes staring intently into mine, “Tell me about her wounds?”

“Sorry,
but that I won’t do.”

I
closed my eyes for a moment, and brought the soft baby body into my chest and
hugged her. She squirmed and struggled to get away after a few seconds. I
loosened my arms and tried to adjust her on my lap but she wanted down. I let
her feet land on the carpet and she walked the couch’s length using her hands
to hold her up until she hit the end. Her diapered bottom plopped onto the
floor and she crawled to her mother. I watched as she scrambled into Lydia’s
lap and then began tugging at her top. Surprisingly Lydia’s cheeks turned a
delightful shade of pink and I laughed.

“My
sister nursed my nephew and niece so I’m used to booby-sucking. And, before you
yell at me for my word choice, please know it’s what my sister calls it.”

“Booby-sucking.
I’ll need to remember to let Damian in on that one.”

Her
cheeks grew rosier but this time I didn’t laugh. The picture of Angela suckling
a baby flashed through my mind and the words ‘booby-suck’ took on an entirely
different meaning.

“It’s
time for us to go. I wanted to return your guitar so if you felt inclined, you
could write Abigail another lullaby.

“You
women are entirely too greedy.”

“Yes,
we are.” She paused for a moment. “Damian and I are here for you. I think you
are a good Dom, you just need to trust yourself.”

“Thank
you. I’m glad I came back.”

“So
are we.”

She
fastened a squirming Abigail into the stroller, then turned and pushed it down
the hall to the elevator. As she and Abigail disappeared inside, a valet wheeled
a cart out of it. The coffee arrived just in time, and I gladly handed him a generous
tip.

Angela…

My
sleep was surprisingly uninterrupted and I felt refreshed when I woke. Mistress
knew, even in her deviousness, exactly what I needed and she never failed to
give it to me. I made coffee in the small kitchen and then carried it to my
desk where my laptop rested. I was on a mission, and just before my brain shut
down the night before, I decided to spend some time getting to know my bad boy
— computer style.

It
wasn’t hard to do. I entered his name in the search engine and one through
twenty of sixty thousand links popped up. Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll; it
listed everything. I didn’t believe each and every article, but pictures didn’t
lie and in most of them, Krispin Righteous was high as a kite. It made me
wonder about his relationship with Damian.

I
grabbed my cell phone and dialed Kevin’s number.

He
was awake. “Hi, dear.”

“Hi,
Kevin. I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How
much alcohol did Mr. Righteous drink last night?”

“That’s
easy. None. Mr. Righteous is a recovering addict and currently, his hard liquid
of choice is Mountain Dew.”

“Yuk.”

Kevin
laughed, “There’s no accounting for taste with the terminally gifted.”

“Did
he tell you he was a recovering addict?”

“No,
and I could be in a lot of trouble for mentioning it, but I was working here two
years ago when he was escorted from the club and dumped in a cab. The tabloids said
he was in rehab a few weeks later. I'm worried about why you’re asking.”

I
wasn’t sure what to say.

“Honey,
he might be a recovering addict on the road to Soberville,” Kevin said, “but
he’s no good for you. Is that why you were upset last night and had to take
some time off?”

“Yes,”
I whispered.

“And
Lydia’s aware of the situation?”

“Yes.
I’m sorry but I should go.”

“Do
you want to catch a movie today? Oscar and I want to see the new Tatum Channing
flick.”

Even
through my sadness, that made me laugh. “Don’t even try to tell me he’s gay.”

“He
dances too well to be straight. We’re thinking he’s in denial.”

After
my giggles died away, I turned him down. I could feel waves of sadness taking
over and even though I knew I shouldn’t be alone, I didn’t have the energy for
a movie.

My
eyes traveled back to the laptop and I concentrated my search on rehab for the
rich and famous Mr. Righteous. After an hour of reading and watching his videos
on You Tube, I gently lowered the screen and walked away from my desk. The man
had the sexiest voice alive but he was pure poison for me.

Mistress
wouldn’t want to cause a burn so soon after our last pain session. The stripes
were still faintly visible, and last night’s impromptu session of continuous
orgasms was not what my body needed. I began cleaning and organizing my suite. Again.

By
three o’clock, I was grimy and covered in sweat, so I headed to the shower. I
wasn’t on the schedule for work but I had no idea what to do with my poor,
pathetic self.

I
threw on a modest skirt, added a button-up light pink blouse, and headed to the
main hotel lounge. I gave up a small utility apartment in California to follow
Lydia to this dream high rise wonderland. My job came with a small suite that I
could never afford if it wasn’t for Damian and Lydia. Anything the glamorous
hotel had to offer was mine for the taking. My life had never been better but
my sorrow had never been deeper.

I
wanted more.

Victor
wasn’t at the piano, so I took a seat in a back booth. I was disappointed
because the waiter was new and he stumbled while taking my order for cheese-covered
curly fries and a cherry coke. I knew he was seeing only a beautiful exterior and
had no idea of the devastation that lay within.

My
food hadn’t arrived when I heard the keys of the piano clink. I leaned over and
peered around the seat in front of me, ready to give Victor a smile, when my
entire body froze. Krispin Righteous sat down at the grand piano and adjusted
the bench seat.

Fuck!
I snapped back behind the cover of the booth and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat.
When the first chords of Frank Sinatra’s “Ain’t She Sweet” began, I sucked in
air and rested my forehead against the table. My tears fell.

“Um,
here’s your order.”

I
lifted my head knowing the waiter could see my shoulder’s shaking and had to
know I was crying. I wiped my face inelegantly against the sleeve of my blouse
and tried to smile. It was completely inadequate but his eyes traveled past my
face and down the front of my shirt. If I complained to Damian, the waiter wouldn’t
keep his job for long but really he was little more than a kid; I didn’t have
the heart to be angry.

When
he left, I moved the food aside. I let my tears continue to fall while I waited
the new piano player out. I wanted to get back to my room and never come out.

Kris…

If
the club clientele knew I was here, then so did the media. Going for a walk
outside in downtown Houston was out of the question. The gym wasn’t too crowded,
so I worked out for more than an hour. I signed two autographs but everyone
else left me alone to enjoy the torture I imposed on my body. Healthy mind,
healthy body had become my mantra. But my sweaty daydreams where full of
Angela’s gorgeous body while my legs ate up the miles on the treadmill.