Playing Dom (12 page)

“
Italian?”

“
Spaghetti.
I figured you wouldn't want Mexican food again.”

“
You
didn't have to cook for me.”

“
Did
you already eat?” I gave him a worried look.

“
Yeah,
but I could eat again.” He followed me into the dining room
where I seated and served him. If he truly had already eaten, I never
would have been able to tell. The spaghetti got devoured like it was
the last meal he'd had in weeks.

“
You're
a really good cook,” he told me, staring at his empty plate as
if he expected another portion to magically spring forth.

“
I
like cooking. Originally, I thought I was going to end up going to
culinary school, but being a chef doesn't pay enough. Or rather, it's
difficult to get your foot in the door anywhere that offers decent
wages.”

“
Understandable.
I wish I had finished up college.”

“
What
was your major when you were going?”

“
Architectural
design. I suck at math though, and I didn't have the patience for
classes. I was young and stupid, more interested in partying and
getting laid than making sure I passed my classes.”

“
And
you think you've changed?” I teased him.

“
Some
things don't change.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I don't
party as much as I used to. I still love women though.”

Micah's admittance
sent tendrils of jealousy shooting through me. Even though he wasn't
mine, even though we had no relationship other than friendship, it
bothered me to think of him with other women. Then again, I supposed
that made sense, considering I wanted him as my sub. Eventually,
hopefully, he'd belong to me and only me. It would take a lot of
convincing to make him switch sides though.

“
Well,
when I own you, you won't be dallying around with other females,”
I said with a huff.

He laughed, “When
I belong to you? Is that how you think this is going to turn out?”

“
I
do.” I nodded confidently. “You just don't know it yet.”

“
Sorry
to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I'm no sub.”

“
But
you looked so good in that collar. I'd like to see it on you again.”

Micah quirked an
eyebrow at me. “You do remember that I'm volunteering to help
you. I can rescind that offer at any time.”

My lips fell into a
frown, and then I pursed them, remembering the reward I had planned.
“I'll make it worth your while.”

“
You
gonna start paying me for lessons now?” He snorted.

“
Come
into the living room. Sit on the couch and wait for me while I clean
up in here. I should make you do it, since you're the slave, but I'm
feeling nice. And you'll address me as Domina from now on.”

“
Brat,”
Micah huffed, pushing away from the table to stand up and go into the
living room. It pissed me off how he continued to disrespect me, but
I knew this was hard for him. He had never been a slave before. It
would take some getting used to for him, but I was sure I could
eventually make him love it.

When I finished the
dishes, I joined him in the living room, dropping to my knees between
his legs. His eyes widened as I took the position and instantly
started fumbling with his zipper.

“
What
are you doing?” he asked, completely in shock.

“
I
promised you a special reward, didn't I?”

“
I
thought the dinner was my reward.”

“
I
suppose it could have been.” I tilted my head slightly,
wondering why I hadn't thought about that sooner.

“
By
all means, keep going. I want to see what this reward is.” A
devious grin spread across his lips, and I cursed myself again for
not making the dinner his reward. It was too late to backpedal now
though. Micah had an expectant look on his face, and I would feel bad
for disappointing him. Besides, as naughty as it was, I really kind
of did want to touch his cock. It was a nice cock, thick and long and
veiny.

I
maneuvered my hand into his pants and boxers, feeling his soft skin
as I grabbed a hold of him and pulled him out. Once his cock was
exposed to the open air, I reached over onto the side table for a
bottle of lube, then I squirted some in my hand and lathered him up.
He was already growing hard from my touch, and I enjoyed the feel of
him swelling below my palm. The look in his eyes was etched with
lust, so I tried to avoid his gaze, feeling small and weak beneath
it. He was so sexy that it was hard not to want to submit to him, to
please him, to fuck him.
No.
You're a Mistress now. You're in control. Don't let him get to you
with those gorgeous green eyes, and that amazing body, and this
massive
.
. . Oh God, I got a random urge to suck it.
No.
No. No. Stick to the plan.

I started with the
basic steps, wrapping one hand around his manhood and working it up
and down until he was fully aroused, which didn't take long. My eyes
stayed trained on his penis, and I over-analyzed my every move,
hoping he enjoyed what I was doing. For some reason, I really wanted
to impress him.

This was just the
warm up. I had a whole curriculum worked up for bludgeoning his
beefsteak. I just hoped he could last through it . . . or that he
wouldn't. If he made it all the way through, that would mean I had
done a shitty job, wouldn't it.

Micah watched me
wordlessly, making no indication of his level of gratification. God
how I hoped he wasn't one of those silent guys. You know, the type
who seem to think that sex is a mute affair. I hated it when I
couldn't tell if they enjoyed it or not, and the best way to tell
besides looking in their eyes was by listening to their moans.

Since I was already
starting to psych myself out, I decided to change the pace, mixing up
my speed and pressure. His cock throbbed in my hand, the first sign
that I was doing something right. Pleased with myself, I decided to
switch again, using one hand to stroke him and the other to massage
around the ridge of his glans. That made him gasp, and I got my
reward, a soft moan.
Mmm yeah. Pleasure suits you well. Keep being
vocal for me, baby.

As I continued to
jack him off, I could feel my panties growing moist. It was almost
embarrassing how much pleasuring him was getting me off. My mind was
wandering to all sorts of inappropriate places, my mouth watering to
taste him. There was a light sheen glistening on his helmet, though
it was hard for me to tell if it was lube or pre-come with all the
touching I was doing to him. Judging by the amount his prick was
throbbing though, I could only assume it was the later of the two.

I decided to take
some time to play with the boys, stroking him with one hand while the
other reached into his pants to find his testicles. He leaned back,
relaxing against the sofa as I continued to work on him. While he had
stopped moaning, I could hear his breathing becoming labored. Just
the sound of it motivated me to pick up the pace, wanting to see him
come. Over-thinking everything got pushed to the sidelines, and
instinct took over. My hand worked rapidly, milking him with various
pressure. It wasn't long before I knew he had reached his limit.

“
Fuck,
baby, I'm going to come,” he warned only seconds before
shooting a stream straight up into the air like a champagne cork.

I barely had time to
dodge before the spurt hit the carpet next to me. The rest of it went
on his jeans and over my hand, feeling like melted wax. This was one
part of the hand-job I hadn't really planned for, and I admittedly
felt guilty that I ended up getting it on his jeans. Micah didn't
seem to mind though. When I looked back up at him, all I saw was
appreciation on his face.

“
I'm
sorry I got you dirty,” I said, cowering a little.

“
It's
nothing that a wash cloth won't take out.” He smirked at my
concern.

“
I
could wash your pants for you before you go, if you like.”

“
I
think you're just trying to get me out of my pants,” he teased.

“
Maybe.”
I grinned.
Damn
it. Why had I said that. Now he's going to expect more.

I scowled at myself
as I went to the kitchen to get some carpet cleaner and a sponge. By
the time I returned, Micah had already stripped down to his boxers.
Just looking at him made me feel like I was losing my dominant edge.
I had to reclaim it.

“
Here,
slave.” I shoved the bottle of carpet cleaner and the sponge
into his hand. “Clean up your mess while I put your pants in
the washing machine.”

He chuckled at me,
which only upset me more. “Yes, Domina.”

I took his pants
into the laundry room and sighed while I threw them into the washing
machine and poured detergent over them. Why did I feel so conflicted
about everything that was going on between us? Being dominant with
him didn't feel right, but I refused to be a sub again. It was
probably just strange because I wasn't used to it.

The fact that he
wasn't taking me seriously wasn't helping either. I'd need to be
firmer with him. Maybe break out the riding crop. Yes, the riding
crop seemed to work. He was somewhat afraid of it, at least when I
was touching his dick with it.

When I had finished
starting the wash, I went into my closet to look at my toys. The
riding crop was the first thing I grabbed. Then my eyes landed on the
flogger. It was brand new, like most of my two-person toys.

Looking at it made
me think of Chet. He had flogged me many times before, but never with
anything so innocent. The flogger I owned was made of suede. The ones
he used on me were made of rubber or boot lace. Any flogger could be
painful in the right hands though, and while I trusted Micah to a
certain degree, I was still a bit hesitant to trust him with this.

Maybe I'm not
ready yet,
I
thought as I turned the flogger over, pulling the velvety tails
between my fingers. Memories flashed through my head of being tied up
and struck repeatedly, sending painful tremors through me. I almost
tossed the flogger back into the closet when I heard Micah's voice
behind me.

“
Are
you alright?” he asked.

“
Yeah.
Why?” I turned to him.

“
You've
been in here a while. I just wanted to make sure you didn't pass out
on me.”

“
No.”
I smiled weakly down at the flogger. “I was just thinking.”

“
About
what?” Micah leaned against the door frame.

“
I
want you to flog me, but I'm a bit scared,” I admitted
sheepishly. “The last time I was flogged . . . well, you know.”

Confusion filled his
face. “If you're scared of being flogged, then why would you
want me to do it?”

“
I
think it will help me get over what happened. Besides, I feel like I
can trust you to be gentle. Can I trust you?” I gave him a
hopeful look.

“
You're
the Domina. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to,”
he said gently.

“
I
don't think this one is as bad as the one he used. See.” I held
it out for him.

Micah stepped
forward, though he didn't move to take the flogger from me. “There
aren't many floggers worse than the one he used on you,” his
voice was melancholy.

“
I
had never seen that flogger before that night. The fact that it was
in his bag . . . I've been thinking about it for a while. He probably
meant to use it on me whether you were there or not.”

“
I
wouldn't doubt it. The guy is sick.”

“
Have
you ever used anything like that on any of your subs before?” I
asked hesitantly.