The Romantic Dominant (6 page)

Abigail was positively enamored. He was staring at her intensely, his whole manner was strong and confident, and she could already feel the heat between her legs.

“I do,” she stammered, “and I’ll do my best to please you.”

“If you’re a good girl you’ll have nothing to worry about, but if you’re not…” he finished, letting the threat hang in the air. “I’m looking for someone special, Abby. Are you someone special?”

“I, uh, don’t know.”

The food was brought to the table, and as they ate Abigail considered his question. She’d never thought about herself as someone special, and was about to say just that when he continued his interrogation.

“Do you like blindfolds, do you like being tied up and teased?”

“Very much,” she breathed, the promise of such things causing her thighs to squeeze together.

“And you’ll wear the clothes I ask you to wear, a cute little maid’s outfit while you’re cleaning?”

“I would love that,” she replied enthusiastically, thrilled that the naughty fantasies to which she would rub herself to orgasm were about to become reality. “I’d love that so much.”

His seduction continued through the meal, and by the time the waitress came to ask if they wanted dessert, Abigail was head-over-heels in crush.

“Would you folks like to have some apple pie?” the smiling waitress invited. “We have the best in the city.”

“That sounds yummy,” Abigail replied, thinking how sexy it would be to share something sweet and syrupy.

“Coming right up,” the waitress smiled.

Connor had purposely leaned back, hoping his new victim would jump at the offer of dessert, and leaning forward he locked her eyes and frowned.

“Young lady, you are a naughty girl. I’m afraid it’s time for your very first spanking.”

“Why? What did I do?” she asked, completely bewildered.

“Did you ask permission to order dessert?”

“But, I, uh-”

“Stop talking,” he said firmly. “This is very simple. Either you agree to come with me right now and be punished or I don’t think there’s anything left for us to talk about.”

He sighed for effect, then leaned back, using his body language as a dismissive gesture.

“I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone more suitable, perhaps not as strict.”

Connor never rolled the dice unless he knew he was going to win, and he knew this was a slam dunk! Abigail had thought she’d met her dream man; dominant, wealthy, handsome and mature.

“Please don’t go,” she begged. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t think-”

“Exactly,” he interrupted. “You need to consider your actions. Having a Dominant in your life means you must step back and allow him to take the lead. You do want me to lead, don’t you, Abby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I live very close by. We’ll zip back to my house, I’ll give you the spanking you deserve, then I’ll bring you back to your car.”

She stared at him, and he broke into a warm, alluring smile.

“Yes, or no, Abby, your choice.”

It was happening so fast, but he was gorgeous, and wonderful, and strict, and she could feel the wet heat between her legs, so much so that she was convinced all she’d have to do was touch her clit and she’d climax right there at the table.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Yes, Sir, is the appropriate response,” he replied sternly.

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, her heart pounding.

Reaching into his wallet he pulled out some bills and laid them on the table, and as he helped her from her chair he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“You are so yummy,” he whispered.

Abigail thought her heart would thump itself out of her chest, and when he wrapped his fingers tightly around her hand she almost stopped breathing.

Leading her down the street, he stopped at a black Porsche convertible, opening the car door. Sitting in the expensive sexy sports car, she watched the people walk by and look at the car, then at her. The envy in their eyes made her feel important, and when Connor climbed in, started the engine and zipped out onto the road, she was thrilled to be sitting next to him.

“This car is so fast,” she yelled, trying to be heard over the loud engine.

“Yes, it is,” he replied, expertly maneuvering around a sharp turn, burning rubber.

“Oh, my gosh!” she squealed. “Is this why you call yourself Black Porsche 007?”

He paid her no heed, but whisked quickly around the neighborhood, and as they headed down his street he glanced across at her. She was awed by the beautiful homes, their perfect lawns and landscaped gardens. When he pulled into the driveway of his two-story Tudor, and drove down the side of the house and into the garage, it was obvious she was completely captivated.

This man, this wealthy, amazing man, had chosen her!

The garage door closed behind them and he helped her from the car, then walked ahead of her into the kitchen.

“This is where you’ll prepare my meals,” he announced, “assuming you want to.”

She stared at the impressive granite counter tops, the six burner Viking stove, the array of copper pans hanging from a large metal rack suspended above the center island, and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“Wow, it’s amazing,” she smiled. “Yes, I do, very much.”

“Good,” he smiled, and taking her hand he walked her into the expensively furnished living room.

“Time for your spanking. Take off your shoes and bend over the back of the couch.”

“Yes, Sir,” Abigail quivered, and kicking off her high heels, laid herself across the padded sofa back.

Connor moved forward and quickly lifted her skirt and pulled down her knickers. He very much enjoyed the first time with a newbie, it was always so entertaining. How would she react to his very unique needs? One never knew until it happened.

Unzipping and dropping his trousers, he reached into the top drawer of an impressive antique secretary and withdrew a vibrator, turning it on high speed.

“Are you sorry for taking charge today?” he asked grimly.

“Yes, Sir.”

He placed the buzzing dildo against her pussy, eliciting a wail of joy.

“Some pleasure before the pain,” he declared, holding the buzzing toy against her clit.

“Now you will be punished,” he sternly announced, pulling it away and turning it off.

Lifting his hand he brought it down with a hard smack, followed by another and another, and continued spanking until her wails and cries for mercy convinced him he could stop. Touching between her legs he found her satisfyingly wet, and slipped the dildo into her hot, wet, hungry cunt.

“You want it to buzz?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, Sir, please Sir.”

“Beg me,” he growled, slapping the backs of her thighs.

“I beg you, Sir, please turn on the vibrator, please.”

“Am I your Master?”

“Uh, I, uh,”

“Tell me,” he thundered, spanking her with hard, forceful slaps. “Tell me I am your Master.”

“You are my Master,” she cried, overcome by his unexpected and forceful demand.

Flipping the switch he brought the buzzing vibrator to life, sending its sizzling sensations through her sex. His cock was stirring, and taking a deep breath he moved his spanking hand from her hot bottom to stroke himself.

“Tell me how much you need me, come on, tell me,” he commanded.

“I need you,” she moaned.

“And you need my money, right?” he demanded, dropping his stiffening cock to smack her again, his hand a hard, zinging blow.

“Yes, yes, I do,” she wailed, panting and gasping as the swat scalded her skin.

The intense scene had been the last thing she’d expected, but the dildo was shooting sparks through her loins and her orgasm was building.

“Say it again, say, you are my Master I need you,” he barked, plunging the dildo with a force and gusto that took her breath away.

“You are my Master and I need you,” she howled.

The magic words he needed to hear echoed through the room, and grabbing his cock he rubbed fervently, groaning as his cream exploded across her backside.

Closing his eyes he inhaled deeply, relishing the pulsing euphoria, and when he finally opened them he saw Abigail’s hand behind her, holding the vibrator, wriggling and gyrating, chasing her orgasm.

Stepping forward he wiped himself on her skirt, smacked her hand away and took over. It was only a minute or two before the powerful orgasm rippled through her sex and he was listening to her cries and high pitched squeals. When she finally fell limp he switched it off and placed it back in the drawer of the secretary.

“Oh, Sir, that was amazing,” she whimpered, trying to catch her breath,
and weird, really weird, and…shit, just so weird.

Connor pulled on his trousers and zipped himself up, preparing himself for round two.

“Stand up, remove your panties and pull your skirt down.”

Slightly dizzy, Abigail did as he asked and unsteadily turned to face him.

“Come here,” he said warmly, opening his arms.

Gratefully moving forward she curled herself into his chest, surrendering to his hug and her post-orgasmic lull.

“You know what might be wonderful?” he crooned.

“What?” she whispered.

“Why don’t you stay here for a couple of days? Not right away of course, I have some very important business I have to take care of, but I want you to come back and sleep over,” he said invitingly. “You can make dinner. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in months.”

“Sure. I would love that,” she sighed.

“Can you stay a little while longer?”

“I wish I could,” she moaned. “I have to get back to work. I’m already totally late.”

“Forget work, call in sick.”

“I’d really like that,” she whispered, stepping back and staring up at him.
The name calling was strange, the whole thing was strange, but he’s so good-looking, and this house…

“Call in, go on, for me,” he pressed. “Don’t you want to please me?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, feeling overwhelmed. “My phone is in my bag. I left it in your car.”

“You stay here, and Abby, in this house you’re not allowed to wear any underwear, so lose the bra.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She watched him stride away, flopping down on the couch, and though still unnerved by his strange commands she pushed them to the back of her mind.

Connor grinned broadly as he walked out to the garage. Things had progressed just as he’d planned and it felt marvelous to be back in control, to once again have a sniveling slut in his clutches. Climbing into his car he found her bag, removed her wallet and keys, and leaving them on the passenger seat, he carried it back into the living room.

“I want to hear you lie,” he smiled, handing her the bag.

He was serious. It was important that he observe her so he could pick up any ‘tells’ she might have, nervous ticks that he could watch for as he brought her into his life.

She was the receptionist at a dentist’s office, and was already an hour late. Reaching into her bag she pulled out her phone and dialed the direct line for the office manager. Connor sat next to her, leaning forward, watching her intently.

“It’s gone to her voicemail,” she whispered.

“Leave a message.”

“Okay. Nancy? Hi, it’s me. Listen, I’m sorry, I think I have food poisoning or a stomach bug or something. I’m at home, I’m really sick and I’m turning off my phones. I’ll call you later. Sorry, bye.”

“Excellent,” Connor smiled, putting and arm around her shoulder and taking the phone from her hand.

He’d noticed her right eyebrow raise up when she’d talked about being sick and turning off her phones, information that he would file away for future use.

“Tell me who all these people are,” he continued, scrolling through her contacts. “I want to know all about you.”

Abigail had never felt so special. Connor was interested in all her friends and family, but as she went through each name, explaining who they were and where they lived, she was relieved she’d never gotten around to adding Zander as a contact. Connor hadn’t seemed very happy when she’d mentioned that she’d been with someone just a couple of nights before, and she didn’t want to explain about their night at the club.

“Sir?” she asked demurely.

“Yes, Abby?”

“We’ve just spent all this time talking about me. What about you? What about your friends and family?”

“I am just a humble architect. My family is out of state and my friends you will meet when we go to parties and functions,” he lied smoothly.

“I will? That sounds fantastic,” she sighed.

“There’s something I need to do to for a minute or two,” he remarked, kissing her forehead. “I want you to go into the bedroom off the kitchen and take a shower while I’m busy.”

“I can wait until-”

“Excuse me,” he interrupted, “are you questioning my directives already?”

“No, Sir. Sorry.”

“You certainly do need a firm hand and I shall spank you again when I return. I think you need to be sent home with a very hot bottom.” Abigail felt the familiar flush cross her face, and dropped her eyes. “You’ll learn, Abby, don’t fret. You’ve not had the kind of Dominant you need.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

Standing up he reached for her hand, led her back into the kitchen and through to the small bedroom.

“When you’re finished, wait for me bent across the kitchen table with your skirt raised.”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured.

He watched her close the bathroom door, a knowing smirk crossing his face, and walked quickly to the garage, pulling the cover off his key making machine. Retrieving her keys from the passenger seat he quickly made copies, and placing them on a ring he marked the tag then dropped them in a drawer under his work bench.

Sitting back in his car he unlocked his glove compartment, withdrew a small notepad, then opened her wallet. His first order of business was writing down her driver’s license number, her address and date of birth, after which he searched through her bits of paper and receipts, making note of anything that might prove helpful.

Finished, he put her wallet and keys back on the passenger seat, locked the notebook in his glove compartment, and waltzed back into the kitchen.