I Am a Dominant Page 7

  “You really don’t want to test me,” I warned, but even as I said the words I knew she would. That was who Caroline was, it was in her, and as her hand continued forward I shook my head; it was my turn to sigh.

  I didn’t hurry the last of my undressing, but kept watch as her fingers crept steadily onward, and when my clothes were laid neatly on the chair next to hers, I sat on the edge of the bed. Her fingertips were just below her navel and inching forward, but when I placed my hand on top of her thigh they paused.

  “Just to be clear, you know you must do as you’re told, you do know that, right?”

  “Uh, yes,” she whispered.

  “So…you won’t put that hand where I’ve said it’s not allowed, right?”

  I knew the desire to push the envelope was raging through her. She wanted to know what would happen, she wanted to uncover my resolve, to learn the consequences of willful disobedience.

  “I need to,” she whimpered, “just for a minute,” and purposefully slipped her fingers into her sex.

  I pulled her back her thigh and slapped inside, twice, hard, instantly staining the milky-white skin with a bright pink imprint. Listening to her howls of pain, watching the guilty hand dart from its forbidden fruit to rub the hurt, I casually retrieved her knickers and began to slide them up her legs.

  “Wait, no, what are you doing?” she gasped.

  “You pussy is drowning in need, but you have decided it has to wait,” I calmly replied.

  “NO! I’m so sorry, I really am, I’ll listen, I swear, ow,ow,ow, my thigh hurts so bad.”

  In spite of her dilemma and her urgent pleas, her eyes had remained closed; she’d suddenly learned that my consequences count and she wasn’t taking any more chances.

  “I warned you,” I sighed. “Please remove your hand from your thigh and put it back above your head.

  Her knickers were resting above her knees, and as she groaned, reluctantly moving her arm out of the way, I slid them up.

  “Raise your hips, please.”

  Lifting herself, enabling me to put them back in place, I heard another muttered plea for forgiveness.

  The first lessons are significant; as much as I wanted to explore her inviting depths I would have to wait, and stretching out next to her I pulled into me, rubbing my cock against her belly.

  “What can I do to change your mind?” she breathed.

  “I won’t change my mind,” I said softly, “but you can hasten the time your hungry pussy will be out of bounds by pleasing me, and that means…tell me, Caroline, what does that mean?”

  “Doing as I’m told, behaving myself,” she murmured, pressing her breasts against my chest.

  “Exactly. Lesson number one, disobedient girls get punished, obedient girls get rewarded.”

  Lifting her head she kissed me, a warm, sensuous kiss that sent the blood straight to my loins.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “I’ve get it, I swear. I’m a very quick learner.”

  “I have no doubt,” I smiled, “but we both know there’s a naughty brat inside you, and she’ll want to make sure that the rules still apply from time to time.”

  “I’ll control her,” she promised. “See, my eyes are still closed, and when I kissed you just now I didn’t bring my arms down and I really wanted to.”

  “That’s a good start,” I said warmly, and dropping my lips to her neck I began to kiss and nibble.

  As she moaned in gratitude I gently pushed her on to her back, then lowered my mouth over one of her puckered nipples, settling in for a long, delicious snack.

  I’m not sure how long I dallied there, moving from one breast to the other, toying and lightly tonguing, then deeply devouring, the entire time teasing my fingertips along the inside of her thighs. I knew with each minute that ticked by her pussy was becoming absolutely soaked; her lesson was being hammered home.

  “Please,” she whimpered, “please, James, I’m begging you, I can’t stand it, please.”

  Lifting my head from her chest I stared up at her, and seeing her pained expression I moved my hand and cupped her gusset-covered crotch.

  “Please? Please what? Tell me what you’re asking me for?”

  “I need you,” she groaned, “I need you inside me, I need you to make love to me. I’ve never felt so desperate, never, ever.”

  “I’ll be the judge of how desperate you are,” I said firmly, and moving my hand inside the elastic band I pushed my fingers forward; she was saturated. The exploratory touch elicited a loud cry, and she squirmed wildly against my hand.

  “Ooh, James, James, please, please fuck me, please.”

  “You’ve learned your lesson? Next time I tell you to keep your hand away you will?”

  “Yes, yes, yes, I will, yes.”

  My cock was dripping its need, and straightening up I quickly slipped her underwear down her legs. Reaching across to my nightstand I grabbed a condom, rolled it on, and kneeling between her legs I rubbed my member inside her juicy slit. Her aching groan echoed around the room as she shimmied towards me, and grabbing her hips I thrust forward, impaling her with ease.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she cried. “Oh, you feel…”

  Her voice trailed off as I began stroking, pumping her with force and determination, my fingers digging into her skin as I held her, but knowing it would be a quick ride if I continued I slowed my pace.

  “I’m already so close,” she bleated.

  “I know,” I replied. “Roll over, get up on your hands and knees.”

  She was in position in seconds, and as I stared down at her pink, beautiful bottom I was overcome with a surge of lust. Landing several quick smacks brought forth urgent pleas, and spreading her lips with my thumbs I returned my member to her hot, wet channel.

  Pumping slowly, luxuriating in the gorgeous sight, it didn’t take long before I needed to release, and dropping my hand underneath her pussy I began to massage her clit.

  “Ooh, James, if you do that…” she gasped.

  “Only when I tell you,” I said sternly. “You do not climax until I tell you.”

  “But I’m so close, I don’t know if-”

  Abruptly I dropped my hand away and spanked her with just enough zing to fuel her fire, then started fucking her with energy, holding nothing back. Listening to her gasps and moans, when I sensed she was on the edge I dropped my hand back to her clit.

  “Come for me now, Caroline, come for me now!”

  She let out a long, wailing cry, the sound of her joy sending rockets through my cock. I clenched my teeth as the spasms took hold, clutching her hips as I milked the moment, watching her back arch and her body grow taut as her powerful orgasm took hold and blazed through her body.

  A little while later, nestling together exhausted and spent, we were drifting off to sleep when she mumbled something I didn’t quite hear.

  “What did you say?”

  She paused, and I felt her hesitation.

  “Tell me,” I insisted.

  “It will sound trite. I don’t want to sound trite.”

  “If you’re sincere it won’t sound trite, it can’t,” I assured her.

  “What just happened, it was as if I’d never had sex before. I’ve never had a man possess me like that. That’s how it felt, and it was incredible. I think I could die a happy woman now.”

  I sighed and hugged her.

  “Please don’t,” I smiled, “die I mean, because there’s more, much more.”

  What happened between Caroline and me after this extraordinary reunion I’m saving for the end of the book, BUT NO PEEKING. For now, it’s time to move on.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Brat Named Rachel

  I’ve had several women tell me that the thought of being spanked in public is simultaneous mortifying and thrilling. It’s certainly a threat that has always succeeded in capturing a lady’s attention, unless of course she’s in the playroom, then she wants to be spanked in public, but I don’t consider the playro
om public so in my opinion it doesn’t count.

  Anyway, public spanking is a big deal, at least in most people’s book, so how can I not share one of my all-time favorite public spanking spectacles?

  It happened in Paris, in the middle of the day, to the complete astonishment of everyone nearby, most especially Rachel, the young woman who was the recipient of my very hard, spanking hand. To give this moment its due I have to back up and tell you about her, how she happened to be with me in the City of Lights, and ultimately, over my knee in an outdoor cafe near the Basilica of the Sacre at Montmartre.

  Rachel was from across the pond, Manhattan to be exact, and though I’m sure not everyone from Manhattan has Rachel’s moxie, she certainly was a poster child for the tough New Yorker.

  I work in the Square Mile, otherwise known as The City, which is London’s financial district. How I make my pennies there doesn’t matter, but part of my job is to wine and dine, so not only am I familiar with the better restaurants, I’m known to the concierge club, and can usually get last minute tickets to hot shows, and tables when the eatery in question is supposedly fully booked.

  I’d just arrived in my office when one of my colleagues who is also a good friend, (I’ll call him Alistair) rang me and asked to meet for lunch; he said he was buying and he needed a favor.

  I met him at a local restaurant, one frequented by some of the movers and shakers in The City, and I knew the favor had to be important for him to have suggested such an expensive place. (I’d told him afternoon tea would buy him whatever the favor was, but he’d insisted.) As I sat waiting, sipping on the best coffee I’d ever tasted, I caught sight of him marching briskly towards me, sending the white linen tablecloths fluttering as he hurried past.

  “Alistair, you look…what? Worried, scared?”

  “You name, I feel it,” he replied, slightly out of breath as he sat opposite me.

  “Does this have to do with the favor, or did something else just happen?”

  “Oh, no, it’s the favor,” he nodded as he hailed a waiter. “Scotch, neat.”

  “You’re making me nervous. I’m beginning to think lunch here might not be a sufficient bribe after all.”

  “You know my mother remarried a few years back,” he began, “and moved to America.”

  “Yes, some real estate tycoon or something.”

  “Exactly. Tom Bremer, Bremer Holdings. He has two children from his previous marriage, two daughters. Brenda, she graduated from Harvard Business School and joined his company. She’s brilliant, a whiz, and gorgeous, I mean, she has it all, but I’m afraid Rachel, the younger sister-”

  “Your Scotch, Sir,” the waiter interrupted, placing the heavy, cut glass tumbler in front of him.

  “Perfect timing, thanks,” Alistair sighed. “I’ll wave when we’re ready to order.”

  He took a swig, shook his head, and I waited eagerly for him to continue his story; he already had me hooked. Two gorgeous, wealthy girls? I couldn’t wait to hear where this was going.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “Rachel, she’s just turned twenty, she’s become a hellion. I shouldn’t say become, she’s always been a hellion. I’ve met her a few times and she’s a looker, well both of them are. Their mother was a beauty queen or some such, and the girls inherited her looks.”

  “Get to the favor,” I pressed.

  “Apparently her college days were, uh, well, l’ll just repeat what my mother said, Rachel was annoyingly willful.”

  “I’ve never met your mother, but somehow that sounds like her,” I remarked.

  “My mother has always been very proper, and I suspect willful was a serious understatement,” Alistair frowned. “Regardless, Rachel dropped out and moved home a few months back. She has refused to work, and I mean at anything, and she disappears every weekend. Her father is worried sick about her, and that’s making my mother crazy. The whole mess is putting a strain on their marriage.”

  “The favor?” I asked again.

  “I’m getting there,” Alistair said, then took another swig of his scotch. “My mother and Tom have decided to take a cruise to get away for a week, but they’re worried about leaving Rachel in the house alone, so my mother asked me if I would consider having her visit while they’re gone. I said yes, of course, but when I told Sandra she wasn’t having it. Said she doesn’t want her around Kate and Alex. I realized she was right, and now I’m up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle.”

  Sandra was his wife, and even after twelve years of marriage he talked about her as though she was his Princess.

  “Are you asking if she can stay with me?” I queried, suddenly wanting a swallow of that scotch myself.

  “Heavens no, that would be a dreadful imposition,” Alistair said quickly, “no, no, I’ll put her in a small hotel somewhere. I was just hoping you might take her out a bit, you know all the hot spots. It would give me a break so I can be home at least a couple of nights while she’s here.”

  Alistair looked truly overwhelmed, and I could understand why, but I happily assured him I had no issue escorting a beautiful spoilt brat around London, none whatsoever.

  “Take a deep breath, of course I’ll spend some time with her, as much as you want.”

  “You will? James, that’s brilliant. I have to say, you do appear to have a way with women. I don’t know what you do, but they seem to think the world of you.”

  “You just haven’t met the ones who don’t,” I grinned.

  “I’m worried sick about the whole thing,” he continued, either ignoring my quip or not having heard it. “She’s bound to get into trouble. I can’t watch her twenty-four-seven, and besides, Rachel’s an adult, well…in years anyway.”

  “When does Miss Hellion arrive?”

  “In two days, Thursday afternoon to be exact,” he replied, waving to the waiter. “I have to pick her up. Sandra isn’t happy about this, not happy at all.”

  The waiter arrived, took our orders, and I deliberately changed the subject as we ate. An idea was percolating in my head, and by the time we’d finished discussing the latest gossip it had taken form.

  “Alistair, I have a suggestion. If your mother is worried about Rachel being at home by herself, she’s not going to be happy that you’re putting her in a hotel, am I right?”

  “I’m dreading telling her,” he cringed.

  “I have a guest room, work is on the quiet side, she can stay with me. If she’s too much I’ll let you know, but there’s something I need to do in Paris, a minor business thing that I’ve been putting off. Why don’t I take her with me, strictly on the up-and-up of course? There’s so much to do there it might just distract her enough to keep her out of trouble.”

  “You’re joking? You’d do that? I can’t let you, it’s too much,” Alistair protested.

  “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t up for it. It might be fun. When does she arrive again?”

  “Two days from now, Thursday afternoon.”

  “I’ll pick her up, and after work you can swing by and check on her. Flying in from New York she’ll be tired, she’ll probably be no problem for the first day or two.”

  “It’s too much to ask,” he repeated, shaking his head, “no, it’s too much.”

  “Nonsense,” I insisted. “I’ll have a chat with her on the drive back, maybe I can plant some seeds in her head, tell her Scotland Yard is tough on young yankee girls who misbehave.”

  “YES! Oh, yes, tell her that,” Alistair said eagerly. “It might work!”

  “So it’s agreed then? If she stays at a hotel and gets crazy, you could end up with a real problem on your hands.”

  He studied me for a moment, stared at his empty glass, then nodded his head.

  “James, you’re such a great friend,” he said quietly. “I really owe you.”

  “Hey, there are favors, and there are favors. Escorting a cute girl around London and taking her off to Paris, you’re doing me the favor,” I laughed.

  “You haven�
��t met her yet.”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll be able to handle whatever she throws at me.”

  “I don’t know why but I believe you,” he replied, and for the first time since he’d arrived his shoulders dropped. “I’ll email you all her arrival details. There is one other thing I should warn you about.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “My mother is worried Rachel’s might be dabbling in drugs. She hasn’t found anything but-”

  “Hmm, well that doesn’t surprise me,” I remarked. “Let’s just hope it’s not a real issue. If it is I’ll call you.”

  “Yes, you must, but the thing is, she’s flying in private, which means she won’t be facing the scrutiny of the airport.”

  “Ah, so you’re worried she may bring something in.”

  “I don’t know what to do about that,” Alistair said grimly. “If you have any ideas, be my guest.”

  “I’ll just wait and see how things crinkle out,” I smiled, “and try not to worry. In Paris she won’t be out of my sight, which means she’ll only be an issue for a couple of days when we get back.”

  “You’ve saved my life,” he said dramatically. “Seriously.”

  On Thursday afternoon, sitting in the luxury lounge that serviced the private jets at Heathrow, I was very surprised by the young woman who meandered over to meet me; she didn’t look like a hellion at all.

  She was reasonably dressed in expensive jeans, a loose fitting sweater and ballet slippers, and wearing very little makeup. I was expecting the stereotypical tight, slutty clothes, black eyeliner and pink hair.

  She was pleasant, thanked me for picking her up and allowing her to stay. I was beginning to think Alistair had gotten his wires crossed, when ‘it’ happened. She was carrying only a big hobo bag across her shoulder and a computer satchel, so I asked about her luggage.

  “Why would I bring luggage?” she frowned, “I hate lugging around stupid suitcases. I’ll just buy what I want. I need to get to the shops as soon as we get into London. I’ll dump this stuff and take a shower first, then go out and get what I need.”