HisIndecentBoxSetpub (37 page)

It didn't feel like
anything special at first. He gave my nub a good dousing, igniting my
pleasure core with the touch of his finger. Then he put some more gel
on his finger and rubbed my pussy lips with it. By the time he was
done, I began feeling the effects of the lube on my pleasure button.
It was heating up quickly, causing a tingling sensation. When Damien
put the cap back on the tube and leaned between my legs to blow on my
folds, I gasped from the strange sensation that ran through me.
Within seconds, my clit was throbbing, my labia fully engorged with
seething desire.

“
What
was that?” I asked.

“
It's
called WOW gel.” He grinned.

Wow was right. It
felt amazing, both hot and cold at the same time, tingling and
pleasurable. I could feel my nerve endings coming to life and my
pussy beginning to moisten.

“
It's
clitoral arousing gel,” he explained. “How does it feel?”

“
Good.
I like it.”

“
Good.
Shall I take things up a notch?”

I was scared what
that meant, but I nodded anyway.

Damien licked two of
his fingers and pressed them into my exposed cunt. He slid them
inside gently at first, scissoring and exploring. It felt exquisite
coupled with the throbbing of my clit. When his fingers were fully
inside, he arched them and began thrusting slowly. I groaned
shamelessly, feeling like I might drool on myself from pleasure.
Already, his fingers were squelching inside of me, proof of my
arousal.

He pulled out,
opened the tube again, and gave my clit another rubdown with the gel.
This time, he pressed his index finger hard over my nub. Fire shot
through me, consuming me with lust and desire. It felt like my pussy
was absolutely drooling.

“
Damien,
I'm going to,” I warned.

He buried his face
between my legs, flicking his tongue across my clit. If he had wanted
me to stop, this wasn't a good way to show it. Almost the second he
sucked my sensitive bits up into his mouth, I came, contracting and
squirming and panting. Damien showed no signs of letting up,
devouring my cunt until no gel or wetness remained. When he did
finally come up for air, all I could think about was how much I
wanted his cock inside of me.

“
Fuck
me,” I whispered.

“
I
want to, but you've been bad,” he said.

“
You
taught me a lesson. I won't be bad again.”

For a moment, I was
hopeful, but then he crawled off of the bed and sat back down in the
chair, filling me with disappointment. I wasn't sure if I was allowed
to move or not, so I just laid there, staring at him, praying he
would return.

“
I
like you like that,” he told me, though his expression was
blank.

“
I
want you inside of me. I think I might stay like this until you come
stick it in me.”

“
You'll
be staying like that all night then.” He smirked.

“
If
it's what you want.”

“
You
become so compliant when you want to be fucked.”

“
I
can't help it. I want to be fucked.” I grinned back at him.

“
I'm
glad you're not upset anymore.”

Had I ever been
upset? It seemed like a distant dream now. The welts on my ass had
finally cooled. Only the hand impression lingered behind.

“
You're
not allowed to pleasure yourself anymore,” he said, turning my
grin into a frown. “And you can relax now.”

I lowered my legs to
the bed and rolled over onto my side, looking at him. “Why not?
What did I do to earn punishment this time?”

“
It's
not a punishment. I want all of your orgasms to belong to me. Every
time you come, I want it to be because I allowed it. That would give
me great pleasure.”

My clit throbbed
from his words, but my brain knew my body shouldn't be happy about
it. Masturbating was an integral part of my life. I did it at least
once a day. The thought of being denied made me discontent.

“
I
don't like that rule,” I told him.

“
Why
not?”

“
Do
you have any idea how much I masturbate?”

“
I
do. You put it on the questionnaire, remember?”

“
Oh
yeah. I forgot about that,” I huffed. “Well, if you're
going to do that to me, then I need to see you more.”

“
Neither
one of our schedules will allow that.”

“
Then
we need to compromise.”

“
Fine.
I won't masturbate either.”

It wasn't the kind
of compromise I had expected, but the thought was very arousing. I
tried to imagine a pent-up sexually frustrated Damien Reed. He would
probably be absolutely ravaging in the sack. My thighs wanted to rub
together from the thought.

“
Wouldn't
that be difficult for you too?” I asked.

“
It's
all about self-control, Cheyenne. I have a lot of it. You, on the
other hand, don't.”

How rude? I sat up
and crossed my arms over my chest.

“
If
you're not going to fuck me, then I'd like to get dressed,” I
told him grumpily.

“
Fine.”

As I began to put on
my clothes, he continued, “I won't be able to see you tomorrow.
I have a teachers dinner to attend.”

While I knew I
should have been upset, I honestly felt relieved. At least now I
wouldn't have to feel bad about not being able to see him because of
my father coming home. Still, shouldn't this be even more reason for
us to have sex.

“
Are
you sure you don't want to fuck?” I asked, feeling a bit sleazy
for it.

He laughed, “You're
insatiable. But no. You'll survive for a week.”

Would
I? I wasn't quite sure. To be honest, I hadn't gone without
masturbating for more than a night or two since I discovered the
pleasures of my own body. The thought of going a whole week was
almost
incomprehensible
.
I would probably rape Damien the next time we were together. A silly
mental image played in my head of him opening the door and me ripping
off his pants and jumping on his dick right in the doorway. It was
funny to think about now, but who knew how accurate it could be by
the end of the week.

“
I
don't like this,” I grumbled.

“
It's
not your job to like it. It's your job to accept it.”

“
Doesn't
being a submissive mean some things are up for debate?” I eyed
him wearily. “I could have sworn you said that at some point.”

“
Some
things are. Not everything. If you don't like it, you can always
decide not to move on to training when your trial is over.”

I groaned. Why did
he have to be such a hard-head?

“
Fine,”
I relented.

Damien stood to dig
through the chest of drawers again. “Before you go, I need to
give you your packet on the submissive positions. There's also
another list of keywords in here. Don't forget to bring me your
homework, the definition for age play written down on a piece of
paper in your own handwriting ten times.”

I thought about
giving him attitude, but refrained. The corner did not look
appealing, and I doubted my ass could handle another round of brute
force smacks. Instead, I took the paperwork from him and simply said,
“Yes, Sir,” before following him to the door.

In the car, I took
off my collar and reflected on everything that had happened. It had
been an odd night, and things were definitely getting a lot more
intense. While I loved the kink play, I was still having a hard time
adapting to the idea of being a submissive. There was so much to
remember, and Damien was strict in Dom mode. A large part of me
wished we could go back to the way things were, but I feared there
was no going back now. I could only look forward and hope I could
conform to the harsh standards—to be everything Damien wanted
and needed.

CAUGHT

As soon as I got
home, I did my definitions. It was annoying, but at least it didn't
take too much time. I found it funny that the term I failed was age
play. Wasn't what Damien and I doing kind of like that, except our
age difference was very real? It wasn't something I liked to think
about often. How would my parents feel if they knew I was seeing a
man so much older than me? My mother probably wouldn't approve. My
father probably wouldn't care, as long as I said Damien was treating
me right. Still, the idea of talking to them about him made me feel
awkward. Would he ever meet them? Would we ever have a normal enough
relationship where he'd want to meet them? I was beginning to doubt
it. How exactly did that work in BDSM relationships? Did you bring
your Dom home to meet your parents?

You're
putting waaay too much thought into this, Chey.
With
a groan, I changed my clothes and climbed into bed, reaching over to
turn my lamp off.

The following day
was spent cleaning the house in preparation for my father's
homecoming. It's amazing how much a single person can dirty a house.
As I mopped the tile in the kitchen, I thought about what a slob I
had become since starting college. It wasn't as bad as Chase's
apartment had been, with empty boxes of pizza on the counter and
dirty clothing everywhere, but it was below my normal standards of
cleanliness.

Thankfully, Dad
didn't arrive home until shortly after I had finished. When I opened
the door, I was greeted by his warm weathered smile. My father looked
older than the last time I had seen him. His face had more lines, and
the stubble on his chin was more salt than pepper. He outstretched
his arms to me, and I jumped into his embrace like a small child,
squealing, and squeezing him, and inhaling his familiar scent.

“
How
ya doin', kiddo?” he said.

“
I'm
good,” I replied as I pulled away and stepped aside so he could
come in.

The duffle bag he
carried looked as worn down as he did. There was no telling how old
it was, but he'd had it for as long as I could remember. A small tear
in the side revealed some garment beneath, no doubt in need of a good
washing.

“
How
was your trip?” I asked, following him into the living room.

“
Same
old, same old.”

My father was a man
of few words, which made holding a conversation with him awkward at
times. Sometimes I wondered how he and my mom had ever gotten
together. They were different people back then though. A different
time; a different place; a different life.

“
How's
your studies going?” he inquired.

“
Good,”
I replied. “I haven't had time to make dinner yet. I was
thinking about spaghetti.”

“
Oh,
honey, don't worry about cooking anything for me. I went through
drive-thru before I got here. I should have called and asked if you
wanted anything.”

“
Don't
worry about it. I'm fine. I'm sure you'd like a nice home-cooked meal
though.”

“
Maybe
tomorrow. Tonight, I'm just looking forward to a nice hot shower and
sleeping in a bed. Sleeping in the cab gets old.”