The Dom's Dilemma (4 page)

Chapter Five

Twenty-four
hours. God knows how many minutes—Seonagh couldn't begin to do the maths—to sit
and worry about the bloody list of what would she, wouldn't she, or might she,
accept. In fact she didn't have time to sit, full stop, but she still found the
odd minute or three to think about it and fret.

When
she'd opened her café and bookshop she knew it would be hard work. Not least,
she'd reasoned, to get it running and to persuade people to come in.

That
had been the least of her worries. The biggest had been to recruit staff to
keep on top of everything.
Books and Browse,
it seemed, had filled a
niche, and she had not only a loyal customer base but also a steady stream of
tourists, especially though the summer.

Which
was all well and good, but not when she had to decide on such knotty questions
as—is a Wartenberg Wheel red, yellow or green and if so where can it be used?

By
the time she'd flipped the open sign to closed and finished clearing up, all she
wanted was a bath, a good book and a glass of wine. Preferably sipping the wine
and reading the book in the bath.

However,
she acknowledged, as she drove the few miles to her cottage, she might need to
save the reading for later, change the bath for a shower and, as Claudio was
driving, forget the wine and make coffee instead.

Damn
him. Why did I agree to this?
In my home as well.
I
must be crazy. At least he insisted he provided the food.
 
However, much she'd felt it was necessary to
assert some independence—her house, but it seemed not her food for this first
meeting—maybe this wasn't the evening to do it. It was a pity, however that
Seonagh
was tired, irritable, and in no mood to be
subservient. It didn't bode well for the evening ahead.
Luckily, as usual,
the drive along the side of a loch with the mountains as a backdrop restored
her good humor. By the time she reached her driveway she was humming along to
the song on the radio.

Seonagh
turned her car into the entrance to her property and slammed on the brakes. It
wouldn't do to back end a Porsche—even if it was blocking her driveway.

"Of
all the fucking moronic asshats," she muttered to herself as she snagged
her bag off the passenger seat, switched off the engine and got out.
"What's with the abandon the car act?" She straightened up, turned
around and rocked on her feet as her boobs bumped into something hard.
A male something hard.

Seonagh
looked up into Claudio's dark eyes and saturnine face.

"Good
evening, kitten. The abandon the car act is because there seems to be a load of
logs across your turning circle."

Oh
fuck.
"Bollocks.
I only ordered them this morning. I didn't expect them yet. I'd've left the log
shed open if I knew. Oh and hi, come on in. Hope there's something good for
supper. I'm starving. A slice of toast at ten a.m. is but a fond memory"
She opened the front door, and waited for him to follow her. He hadn't moved.
"What?"

"Hi, Sir?"
His lips quirked and she
flushed.

"Yeah, Sir, sorry, bad
day."

He
nodded. "We all have them. Forget it, but remember eh? Here, take
this." Claudio held out his jacket. "And don't let me hear you say
you haven't eaten properly, ever again, kitten. You must have regular
meals." Under the expensive jacket he wore a midnight blue shirt that showed
off his torso to perfection, tucked into the inevitable denim jeans. This pair
was one shade darker than his shirt, if it was possible, and outlined his cock,
which Seonagh was convinced, grew as she looked at it—him she amended. There
was no way she was going to admit to ogling his dick like a teenager.
Mind
you it looks to be a bloody fine specimen.

"Oh
right." She realized Claudio still waited for her to take his jacket.
"Er, Why?"

"Because
if you open the woodshed, perhaps I can shift some of these logs whilst you
prepare our dinner?" He began to unbutton his shirt. Seonagh couldn't take
her eyes off his fingers as they moved down his body and revealed a tanned
chest sprinkled with black hair.
"Large basket on the
back seat.
It only needs reheating."

Should
I suggest he might get his jeans dirty as well?

"You
doll. Can I kiss you?' She wrenched her gaze away from the 'v' of hair that
arrowed under his waistband and looked at his face instead. From his expression
he knew fine what she'd been thinking. "That is the best idea I've heard
since, well, since the decree that coffee within ten minutes of getting up was
mandatory."

"You
can show your gratitude later, kitten."

His
eyes flashed and she drew in her breath.
So sex on legs hot.

"I
can? How?" she asked suspiciously. Somehow, she mistrusted the devilish
smile that played around his lips.

"Tut-tut,
kitten, is that any question to ask your Dom?" Claudio waggled his finger.
"That's for me to say, and you to agree to or not. Now, woodshed?"

"Oh yeah."
Her tummy did a funny little
gurgle and her nipples peaked hard against her silk top. Claudio glanced at
them and smirked

Smirked, dammit.

"Think
about just what I might demand for my reward, kitten. How long have I
got?"

She
stared at him. Got for what? At the rate her pussy muscles were doing their
press ups, about three seconds before she jumped him. Then she realized what he
meant. "Oh say half an hour?" If, as he said it would only take ten
minutes to warm through the meal, she could delay it, get her logs moved and
have a chance to admire his everything she was all for it. Her rumbling tummy
could wait.

Claudio
narrowed his eyes and nodded. "I hope you don't over cook it,
kitten."

Bugger.
Outed.

****

That
evening set the tone for the next week or so. Ten days later, all the logs were
stacked neatly undercover, and he'd even made a start on chopping kindling.

"I'll
expect to sit in front of a roaring fire in the cold weather," Claudio
informed her when she protested he was doing too much. "And of course with
a nice warm room, you can be naked."

She
had no answer to that except redden and clench her thighs to stem the gush of
arousal that flooded from her.

He
laughed and flicked her nose with his pinkie.

At
no time did he make a move on her, except for a kiss as he left, nor asked to
see the questionnaire he'd given her, let alone demand his reward, whatever it
was. She'd never spent so much time with a guy without him trying it on. It was
unnerving. Only the fire in his eyes when he looked at her reassured her he did
in fact want her. It also stopped her fucking up and jumping him.

Seonagh
was twitchy, horny, and needed a new battery for Archie. He of course, had
whined, slowed and given up the ghost at some stupid time in the early hours of
the morning, mid play. Frustrated, and wet, Seonagh had resorted to the tried
and tested formula of fingers and thumbs, coupled with a deep dominating voice
in her head telling her what to do.
In a sexy Greco-Italian
accent.

It
kept her sane.
Almost.
Until, on a Sunday night, over
a week later, a week of chats, walks and a visit to the cinema, to see a retro
showing of Secretary, they sat in her garden enjoying the late afternoon
sunshine. It was her day off and they'd eaten a long leisurely lunch at the old
oak table Seonagh had sited under the apple trees. Then followed it up by a
walk in the forest, to wear off the lethargy the meal and sunshine created.

 
Claudio looked over at her from his deckchair
under the trees.

"Kitten?"

He'd
used the pet name to address her, on and off, each time they met, but never in
such a commanding tone. Her cunt responded to it like a flower to the sun, her
senses unfurled, and her clit perked up.

Damn,
I must stop giving my lady bits a mind of their own.
She looked at him in query.
"Sir?"
That title slipped easily out of her mind
and into her voice.

"Did
you look at the questionnaire I gave you?"

She
nodded and then remembered one of the helpful hints on the Q and A sheet at the
end of his list.
Always vocalize.
"Yes,
Sir."

"Good."
He smiled, stood up and stretched his arms high over his head. "Ah that's
better. I must start running again. Time has got away from me."

"You
need to run after it?"

"Clever,"
he said admiringly. "But no. However, I feel perhaps I need to run after
you?"

"Me?"
Seonagh was genuinely surprised and knew her voice showed it. "Why?"

Claudio
held out his hand to her. She took it and let him haul her to her feet. He
didn't draw her closer but neither did he let go of her hand. His palm was warm
in hers, and he used his thumb to trace slow erotic circles over the skin
between her thumb and forefinger. They tickled, tingled, and made her pulse
jump.

"You
are adept at keeping me busy so I have had no time to question you until now. I
allowed that perhaps you needed those days to, to assimilate what I want. Now I
need to know the results of your deliberations."

He
sounded oh so proper. Seonagh clicked her tongue quietly.
Give in or give up
time.

"I've
filled it in, Sir.
One moment.”
She wiped her clammy
hands on her skirt as she went inside to get the information she'd submitted.
Oh, for a large glass of wine. However as Claudio—rightly—wouldn't drink and
drive the best she could do was sniff the elderflower cordial.

Three
minutes later she went back outside with the papers in her hands and passed it
to him. He nodded and pointed to the cushion on the grass.
"How
long until we get bitten in all the wrong ways?"

Seonagh
bent her legs and sat on the cushion. She'd suspected he might want to set the
scene, so to speak, and she was happy with that. Whether he'd be happy with her
answers to his questions was another matter entirely.

"Midges?"
She checked her watch and
squinted toward the sun.
"A couple of hours.
The
little buggers won't get annoying until the sun goes down behind those trees at
the end of the garden. Oh and I feel buggers is a perfectly acceptable
description there, Sir, not an epithet."

Claudio
laughed, as she hoped he would. "I'll give you that, kitten. They are
indeed little buggers. Not that I'm bothered by them, but I bet you are."

"Yeah,"
Seonagh said, morosely. "They see me from five miles away, rub their wings
together and shout ‘oy there's dinner.’ Even that famous skin moisturizer
beloved by forestry workers and the armed forces alike only staves them off for
a while.
And increases their annoyance when they permeate its
shield.
I've accepted I'm a watch the outside from inside during summer
evenings
kind of person."

"Pity.
So there'll be no outside
playing then?"" He tugged one red curl on the top of her head.
"No bondage and orgasm torture au naturel?"

"Not
if you don't want me marked for the wrong reasons, Sir. Seriously, Even now I'm
itching. That'll be blooming ants or sommat. I was the only person at pony club
who could come home after mucking out, with a map of Australia in bites, on my
tummy." She shook her head. "Not even Scotland, I ask you. Do you
think the mites were trying to tell me something?"

He
looked up from the third sheet of paper.
"Like
emigrating?
I'm glad they didn’t. It's a long way to get you to crawl on
your knees from."

"I'm
sorry?"

"Crawl
on your knees.
Like now.
Into the
house.
Kitten, were you deliberately baiting me?" He waved the
questionnaire at her. "Now move."

Chapter Six

Move.

Would
she? It was a gamble, and he didn't really think her evasive answers were
really brattiness, just confusion. However, a straightforward I do not
understand, or I do not know would have been preferable to the snide, who
knows, who would, and, er you what? But at least it meant he got to play. A
little of his dominant self on show wouldn't come amiss. He'd been so vanilla
over the last few days, he almost asked her if she wanted a cornet or a tub.

Seonagh
glanced up at him confusion in her expression. "Crawl as in how? Where?
Why?
Sir."

"On
all fours, like the kitten I say you are. You may also purr, but sheath the
claws. Or I might take it upon me to sheath them for you." The look of
astonishment, the way her eyes widened and her breath sped up was satisfying.
"Into the house."
He judged it was around ten
yards and all on grass. As he often said, he might be a sadist, but he wasn't
cruel. Gravel or concrete would give unnecessary pain. "Why? Because I
want to see you on all fours, your ass wiggle and your tits jiggle as you
move." He didn't add, as he wanted to, and 'once inside I'll have that
skirt off and your ass and cunt
bare
to my sight as
soon as I can'. That wasn’t for tonight. Tonight was only the first step on
their journey, and as much as he wanted to get from
a to
z without visiting every stop in between he wouldn't.

It
was agony to keep his face impassive as he waited to see what she would do.

Seonagh
shuffled her feet and gave him a long hard impenetrable look. Eventually, just
as he was sure it would be fuck off and
fuck off,
she dipped her head
very briefly, and took a deep breath.

"I'll
try, Sir."

"Good,
kitten what color are you?"

She
looked up at him again, and confusion showed in her eyes. "Col… or well,
green I think."

"The
moment you don’t think, say so. Do you understand?"

He
had to bite back a grin at her, '
duh, what, do you think I'm stupid or
something,'
expression. His cock twitched at the delicious thought of
sorting his rebellious and feisty sub out.

He
hoped his eagerness didn't show, or his
cock peek
over
the top of his jeans, as she used her arms and legs to propel herself on hands
and knees toward the house. Plus, he couldn't help be thankful the garden was
private and the nearest neighbors unable to see in. Claudio enjoyed public
play, but he didn't think Seonagh would enjoy her neighbors seeing her like
that.

As
he suspected she muttered under her breath, but it wasn't directed at his
sadistic high handedness. Instead she was urging herself on. He commended her
courage. It wasn't an easy thing to do, especially as to move without getting
caught up in her skirt she'd kilted it around her waist and every move gave him
an enticing flash of red lace.

I
could get used to this.

When
they got to the doorstep, she hesitated. Claudio waited to see what she would
decide to do. He could imagine the mental conversation she was having with
herself, and wished he had the abilities to hear it.

She
lifted herself over the threshold and into the kitchen.

"Why
on earth I chose coir matting I have no idea, but I bet the guy who persuaded
me was a sadist and had this scenario in mind." Claudio saw her wince as
the rough strands of rug dug into her hands and knees. "Do you have a
brother who works in a carpet store?"

"No,
I have a brother who is a priest."

****

Seonagh
sat back on her haunches. Had she head aright? "I'm sorry, Sir. A brother
who is a priest? You're kidding me. That'll be right a Dom and a priest. I bet
you have a sister who's a nun."

"No,
a high class whore."

As
a conversation stopper, that one was worthy of an Oscar.

"Right."
How could she answer that? And
how long was she going to have to torture herself on the bloody rug? Seonagh
vowed there and then to throw it out and put down something kinder to crawling
subs. "I'd love to say, oh my sister is a vicar, or something, but I don’t
have one. And my brother is too
wee
to think of
anything other than his obsession with marmalade sandwiches like a certain
bear, and Formula One. He brmm, brmm's all the way through every race we watch
on TV."

Claudio
chuckled. “A bit of a character eh? Luisa is actually the wife of a businessman
in Milan. But there was a, lady of 'unusual interests' shall I say featured in
a high profile vice case in Italy last year who has the same name. It took my
sister a while to live
that
down.
Stavros my big brother
is
a priest in the Greek Orthodox Church.
I'm the black sheep
.
Move
on, kitten. I think we'll play in the lounge."

 
Play?
Who said
anything about playing?
"Yellow then."

Claudio
hunkered down next to her, the denim of his jeans a tight caress over the bulge
that shouted 'come and get me' to her.

"Why?
You've been a perfect little subbie, and now you cry hold on? For what
reason have
I worried you?"

"You
said play. We've done nothing but talk for god knows how long and out of the
blue you said play. What do you mean?" Her voice rose and she let her
breath out in a long loud whoosh. "Sorry, overreaction or what?"

He
stroked her hair, and pulled it gently.
"No, not over reaction,
kitten.
Sense."
He tugged the handful of
red tresses a bit harder and she winced. Claudio chuckled.
"A
tiny sting, kitten.
I said play because you crawled for me so nicely. If
that isn't play,
is
not us beginning to set out our
parameters, what is? You stated in your question and answer that you were ready
to play.
To let me take charge.
That you trusted me,
and accepted I would adhere to our safe words. But, and remember this, you also
said you wouldn't question my directives as to how, where and when we scened
unless it posed a problem. So what is the problem?"

Put
like that, Seonagh was stymied.

"Surprise,
apprehension, excitement… Sorry, Sir but aren't we a bit limited on what we can
play here?"

"Clever kitten.
That is true. But, you know? Why
not trust me? Remember green is good, yellow is
hold
on a sec, let's think about what we're doing and red is stop, we need to talk.
I promise I'll adhere to those rules. Are you happy with that?
If we play a little.
After all it would be nice not going
into the club as a virgin wouldn't it?"

He
had a point. How would she appear if she were totally clueless? It wouldn't
reflect well on her dads either. But now it was decision time she was, she
admitted to herself, scared shitless.

Go
for it. Or don't and give up before you start.
Her inner self nagged her.
Claudio wasn't giving her any pressure.
Or encouragement.

"Then yes, Sir."

"Good
girl. How about you crawl into the lounge and sit next to the chair I favor. I
so like to see your ass with that scrap of lace disappearing where my cock
aches to go one day." He let go of her hair, kissed her nose, and stood
up. "And I so want to know you can feel every inch you take."

Seonagh
swallowed to quell the incipient excitement and arousal that threatened to
overwhelm her. Inch she took how? Pictures rushed into her mind. Steps, crawls,
cock, pain. The scratches on her arms and legs felt like battle scars of the
best kind, as she let her imagination run riot for a second.

"Ah,
Kitten I can see that excited you. Your legs glisten with your arousal and I
bet if I put my lips to your pussy, I'd taste just how much. The sooner you
arrive the sooner we start to discover what we can do."

 
She began to move.

 
"Sweet, kitten.
Next time I'll have you
bare
assed naked for me."

It
was a relief to get off the kitchen matting and onto the softer hall carpet.
Seonagh clenched her cunt muscles as her juices decided to make a bid for
freedom. She wasn't going to drip all over her Chinese rug. The tap on her bum
stung and make her yelp.

"
My cum
, my juices, my cunt, my climax, kitten. If your body
wants you to show me how I affect it, you do not stop it."

His
stern, implacable voice did strange things to her tummy. Butterflies danced in
it, and she wriggled to quell them. However mindful of his diktat she didn't
try to hide it.

"There's
my good kitten. Shall I taste you soon?" He didn't wait for an answer.
Seonagh watched him walk past her and into the lounge. She gritted her teeth,
hoped to hell she had arnica in the cupboard and moved on.

By
the time she reached the chair where he sat and shuffled onto the cushion he'd
thoughtfully put on the floor, her knees hurt like Hades.

Claudio
took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. "Any reason why, you
idiot, did you not cry yellow for this? He pointed at her red and scratched
knees. That is where you should alert me. That is not acceptable, it is
unnecessary. You will do well to remember that, kitten."

He
let go of her chin, sat back in the chair and steepled his hands to rest his
chin. He looked, damn him, the epitome of patient man. Only his studied
nonchalance showed he might in fact be an anxious one.
Or at
least a little bit wondering.
She liked that.

"I'm
sorry
Sir,
I've cocked up again eh?"

He
shook his head. "No, I did that. Or didn't, depending what we're talking
about."

Seonagh
snorted.
"Yes, Sir."

 
He smiled, and nodded.
"So,
your virginity?
BDSM speaking?"

She
cast her mind back to their earlier conversation.

"No,
I don’t want to be a total virgin. What do you suggest, Sir?"

"That
you learn to behave like a good little subbie. Unless you really think you're a
Domme?"

 
Seonagh considered. "No. I know I'm not,
that was just a 'what if,' maybe scenario. I don't want to tell someone else
what to do. I have enough of that at work. Mind you, I'm still not sure if I'm
subbie material, but I do know something is lacking."

"Having
your bottom smacked for being a brat as a kid?" Claudio studied her over
his hands.

She
crossed her eyes and made a face. "It's illegal, doncha know."

"Spanking
an of
age bratty sub isn't. Not if she doesn't safe
word out. Stand up."

His
tone brooked no defiance. Seonagh scrambled to her feet and hovered in front of
him. Her palms were clammy, her mouth dry, and her skin prickled. Did it mean
he was going to administer a chastisement? Why did the thought of that excite
her?

"Touch
your toes, kitten. Go on I know you can do it. You look athletic, and you crawl
like a champion."

"Yes, Sir."
She hoped he meant crawl in the
movement sense, not the creepy, smarmy way.

It
seemed so natural and right to answer him with his title and do as he asked.
Seonagh bent down and gripped her toes. Her skirt slid from where she'd tucked
it and covered her legs. How on earth she'd keep her balance if he touched her
she had no idea.

He
chuckled and the deep resonating sound went straight to her clit.
 
Dripping thong time
again.

 
“Good girl. That's a lovely view. You've too
many clothes on but that's easily sorted." As she looked through her legs
behind her his boot-clad feet came into view under the bottom of her skirt.
Then the hem was edged upwards until jean clad legs came into view.
""Better, now I'll tie this out of the way. Next time you can take
your dress or whatever off. This time, I find myself too anxious to see, touch,
and taste you to wait." He evidently moved her skirt to his satisfaction
and then stroked her bare leg from her foot to the edge of her lacy—and her
more than damp—thong. "Ah, you are excited aren't you?
Wet
for me.
I like that." He slid two fingers under the scalloped lace
of the thong and caressed the edge of her cunt. "You do know we'll fuck
afterwards don't you? My cock aches and is about ready to snap in half. I need
to spank your pretty ass for your attitude and fuck you for the same reason. So
contrary, so beautiful, and I bloody well hope, so mine. Therefore,
color?"

"Green."
Why did he ask? Didn't he know
if she weren't happy, his cock would ache for all the wrong reasons?