A Domme Called Pet Page 2

  He chuckled. “Now that, My Lady, is a leading question if ever there was one. Yes, to a certain extent. Why?”

  “I don’t want to fasten them,” Tula said briskly. “So this really is a make it up as we go along scene, pet. I’m trusting you to remember your safe word and use it if need be.” He’d never ever safe-worded out, and Tula wasn’t sure if his macho side would let him do so easily. “If you don’t promise to use it if you have to, this stops now,” she warned him. “It’s in your hands. No misguided sense of ‘ohh I can take it’ when you can’t.”

  “I promise,” Dario said promptly. “I’m steady like this and let’s face it, I can’t fall over unless I take the desk with me, which, as it took four men to bring the bloody thing in, is highly unlikely.”

  He had a good point. The desk had sat in their spare bedroom for months before she had it moved, by the same four men, one afternoon when Dario was at physio, months before. As they were all members of Dommissimma, the exclusive BDSM club in Glasgow—or had been—they’d moved the disused equipment for her and it was now stored at Dommissimma. Perhaps it might come back before long.

  Tula ran her fingers between his shackles and skin and tested the bindings weren’t too tight. They weren’t. Still she hesitated and Dario looked up at her in concern. “My Lady?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” Now the moment had arrived she was scared. So much had changed and so much rested on this working for both of them

  “Right then,” she said in her best Domme voice. “Count, please. Two groups of ten in twos. Ready?”

  “Yes My Lady, I’m green.”

  She hoped to hell she was. Tula took a deep breath and swung the flogger in an arc to land on his ass.

  His hiss was all she could ask for. His voice was clear and confident as he counted. “One.”

  ****

  The sting was perfect. With each exactly placed thud, Dario counted and let himself be carried away by the intensity of it, his feelings and his need for the pain.

  The desire to be whole again.

  “Count, pet, or I’ll start again.” Tula’s voice filtered into his brain, and Dario realized he’d been so immersed in the sheer beauty and sensation of those strokes he’d forgotten to do as his Lady demanded. Where had he got to?

  “Nine…”

  “Good.”

  “Argh.” The next stroke was harder and caught him across both cheeks. Dario arched up as far as his bindings allowed. “Ten…Ten…” He began to float, as his body shook and he let himself go into that space where nothing mattered except the voice of his Lady.

  “That’s it, float for me. How beautiful, you were so good, my love, so perfect. My pet is back.” Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he understood she was untying him. Dario flexed his wrists as Tula wrapped a soft blanket around him, and held a bottle of water to his lips.

  “Drink, pet, and then we’ll cuddle.”

  He nodded as she helped him onto the sofa that she’d placed under the window, and winced as the cold leather surface touched his smarting skin where his subbie blanket had ridden up. Tula tutted and wrapped it more securely under him.

  “Careful, it’s a long while since you’ve had a glowing red butt and it will be sorer than you think. Drink and sit quietly.”

  Dario forced back the urge to gulp the liquid, and instead sipped it slowly. The cool liquid slid down as perfect as the finest wine.

  “My pet,” Tula said softly, as she sat down next to him and rested her head on his chest. “You did so well, and you have such a gorgeous striped ass. I’ll show you in a sec. First though, we need a cuddle and then get you horizontal.”

  “Hmm… Yeah…” He slurred his words as reaction set in. It had always been this way with him. Dario had no idea how sub space worked for anyone else, but he knew the steps it went through in his case. The sense of floating, the shakes, probably tears, and then the need for sleep. He was almost there.

  He had no idea how long they stayed like that, silent and contented, each deep in thought until his grasp slackened and Tula took the half-empty bottle he held out to her. Then, without any warning, Dario began to shake all over again. It had been intense, and boy, it had been a long time since he’d let himself feel like this. His lashes were damp and he firmed his lips. He wouldn’t cry, not there. Dario bit back a sob. “Ah hell.”

  “Ah, love. You’re fine, cry if you want to, let it out.”

  He shook his head. “N ... not now.”

  “Soon then.” Her bare breasts were warm and heavy against his chest. “Now we just have to get you comfy and let you rest.”

  “I am comfy.” Usually—before—they’d cuddle and then he’d fuck her hard and fast, doggy style or in the ass. That wouldn’t be possible any more.

  Never?

  “You’ll be comfier if we get you onto the bed. Come on now, lean on me.” She passed him his crutches and put her arms around him, until he nodded. “Okay now.”

  “Hold on to me.”

  He didn’t have the strength to disagree. Glad the bedroom was only a few yards away, Dario obeyed Tula without any argument and slowly they made their way into the other room.

  “We need to rethink our play space,” she said thoughtfully as he sighed with relief when they reached the bed and he dropped his crutches on the floor. “On you go, onto your tummy.”

  Carefully Tula aided him to crawl onto the bed and stretch out on his stomach, his leg cushioned as he’d been shown.

  “Will you join me? Please? I’m cold without you,” Dario said, and could have bitten his tongue out when she stared at him with ‘that look’. The one where he’d transgressed. He went over his words and swore under his breath. How on earth could he have forgotten so easily? Right back at the beginning of their relationship, when they had been fumbling toward what they wanted and needed, they had set up definite parameters. As far as they were concerned there was none of this ‘one hat fits all’ crap. Everyone was different and everyone craved what thing was best for them.

  One of which was, after a scene they stayed as Mistress and sub until Tula, his Lady, his Domme, decreed otherwise. There had been no necessity for it, as any scene in private always ended in sex, but it had been what they agreed on. And now he’d fucked up.

  Well no, that’s what he hadn’t done, Dario thought, wryly. No fucking and his dick was so hard it would snap on a tap. He turned his head to look at her as she stood, arms crossed to one side of the bed.

  Her side.

  “My Lady, I’m sorry.”

  She stared at him until he began to sweat, and his palms were clammy.

  “You are?” she said eventually, just as he was ready to beg her to do something, say something, anything. “What for?”

  “Usurping your authority.”

  “Hmm.”

  Tula slid onto the bed in one long sinuous movement and stretched out to him. She took his chin between thumb and forefinger and pinched the skin before she forced his head back so far it was a wonder his neck didn’t creak.

  Yes. If he’d been able to he would have punched the air in delight. To anyone not in the know it might look cruel. To Dario it was a sign that whatever transpired next, all was well.

  “Why did you do that, I wonder? Fed up of what we are?”

  Oh hell. “No, My Lady, never that. I forgot. After all, I’ve been such a miserable and unapproachable bastard these last months, I’ve not even been able to give you relief in any shape or form, let alone please my Domme, in Domme mode. Today? Today I woke up and realized just what I was denying. You, me, us. Our relationship. All of it. I might never be able to scene as we did before, but I decided that with my Lady’s help we could maybe set up our new protocol.” He sighed and then sniggered. “The one where we take into account one dodgy leg, two crutches, and a miserable arsehole for a sub, who has no manners. Will you forgive me and let us move on?”

  Chapter Four

  How could she refuse to accept such a heartfe
lt apology? Tula’s pissiness melted as fast as snow under a sunlamp as she stared at the abject face of the man she loved. The man, who, for the last few months, had been as approachable as a jaguar who hadn’t been fed for a year.

  He’d snarled at her, blanked every overture she’d made, accepted her ministration with an icy indifference that ate at her composure and resulted in many night of tears in the spare bed he’d suggested she use—to, he said, make sure she got some sleep. After all, he pointed out, bitterly she had to go into work every day—he didn’t.

  She, he said, was the breadwinner. He was the hanger-on.

  All rubbish, but would he listen? No.

  Eventually Dario had retreated into a place she couldn’t reach him. Whatever had made him change she gave thanks for, and hoped to hell he didn’t slide back into that awful place from before.

  Now hopefully they could move on and be Mistress and sub again. A Domme called Pet. That had been Dario when she’d told him her name and what she was.

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” She sighed as she remembered just what was supposed to transpire the following week. “Not on your side anyway. It’s time to move forward.”

  He raised his eyebrows in query.

  Tula shook her head. “Nothing. We’ll chat later. First though, I do think this looks very uncomfortable.” She ran the tip of one perfectly filed red-varnished nail along the length of his cock and teased the slit. Pre-cum coated her finger and the bulbous head of his dick.

  Dario groaned. “Sweet hell…”

  Tula tapped his nose. “New positions, new protocol, new era, pet, eh?” She bent her head and bit his nipple, and made sure none of her body touched his. It would, she knew, drive him crazy.

  “Agh…” He hissed as she switched nipples and at the same time reached behind him to clutch his ass. “Please, My Lady…”

  “Please what, pet? Please make you come? Make us come? Which?”

  “Us, My Lady always us.”

  Tula knelt up and thought rapidly. She loved their usual end to a scene, to be fucked from behind or in her behind, but at the moment that was going to be difficult. His leg couldn’t be moved at will.

  “Fuck me with your mouth, pet. Show me how you can make me scream my climaxes as you take me. Then maybe I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Fill it with your cum. Let me taste you, swallow your seed and give you release.” She grinned and very slowly moved her hand behind him and pushed the end of her finger into his anus.

  It seemed to her as if every muscle in his body tightened as his eyes clouded over and he moaned. “Oh god, oh hell I’d forgotten how good this is. Please please….” He sobbed the words. “Let me eat you.”

  All thought of ‘follow the protocol, remember who I am’, went out of Tula’s mind.

  “Mouth on my cunt, now.” The words didn’t come out quite a commanding as she hoped. Tula pushed him roughly onto his back, and ignored his hiss as his ass once more hit the sheets, before she swung one leg over him and knelt a few inches off his face.

  “I’m gonna sit on you, pet. Time to show me you haven’t forgotten everything.” She was sure he hadn’t, but she guessed a little direction wouldn’t come amiss.

  “I want to come at least three times,” she said in a deep, ‘listen to me and obey’ voice. The one he had said sent him as near to sub space as he could get without scening. “Take me and show me just how your magic mouth will do that. Just your mouth the first time.”

  He’d loved the way she spoke like that before. Tula hoped he still did. If not, this fuck-fest might well fizzle out before it got started.

  “My pleasure, My Lady.” He took hold of her hips and roughly pulled her down, so his lips were on her clit. His tongue stroked her labia lips and then thrust into her channel.

  ****

  Tula bit back a scream. How the hell could she hold back a climax? With her sex life as arid as the desert, and a vow not to come unless by Dario’s hands, mouth, or cock, she’d been climax-less for longer than she wanted to remember.

  Now though, with his wicked tongue laving her and his lips and teeth on her, nipping, sucking her as if she were a juicy delicacy, she began to shake. “Oh fuck it fuck me, yessss.” Her vision darkened and she saw stars.

  Twice more as she decreed Dario gave her a climax so intense she cried. Once with his fingers thrust deep into her pussy and his thumb teasing her anus and once more with his mouth. When she finally curled up on her side and he rested his bad leg carefully over her, Tula found it difficult to breathe. His expression stopped her.

  She’d been all set to give him a blow job when something in his expression stopped her. A yearning?

  “Tell me pet, how do you think I should let you come this first time? Where do you want to spill?”

  “In your cunt, My Lady.” His words were so prompt but spoken so hesitantly that Tula almost thought twice. However, a faint tremor that he tried to hide made itself known to her, and she realized how important it was to Dario to make love with her semi-conventionally. They both loved it when he fucked her from behind, so hopefully with a few adjustments they could again.

  “On our sides then,” Tula said as if she’d not had to think about how best it would work for him. “We can’t manage doggy style yet, and I do love the feel of you behind me, with your balls teasing my ass.” She loved it when his cock filled her ass as well, but that wasn’t for now. She squirmed and moaned as her juices ran down her leg. “God I’m so bloody horny, pet, how good of you to suggest it.”

  “Well it wasn’t entirely just for you,” Dario said dryly. “I benefit as well, you know.”

  “I do, thankfully, and I want you in me now. You know what to do with your legs, and cock. I’ll know what to do with the rest.” Hopefully that would work. “Make me come.”

  Dario grunted and wriggled around. A pillow came into her peripheral vision as he put it down by her side and rested his injured leg on it. “Lift up a bit so I can put my other leg … ah yeah, like that. That should work as long as we remember not to use the gammy leg as an extra aid or something. Now then.” He slipped his hand between her legs and inserted two fingers into her cunt. “Oh, My Lady is wet and ready.” In one smooth movement, he stroked her clit, trailed his fingers over her slit, removed them, and then probed her entrance with the head of his cock.

  Tula pushed her bottom backward and with a hard thrust, Dario entered her and set up a rhythm as old as time.

  It was touch and go who came first, and she didn’t much care. He shook, she trembled. He groaned, she screamed. Wet heat filled her, as her juices mixed with his. It might not have been the longest fuck in the world but Tula reckoned it ranked up there with the best. She put her arms back to touch him, and hold him tightly.

  Chapter Five

  “So now we know,” Tula, said in a dreamy voice so unlike her Domme voice, the contrast was startling. She had no idea how long it was since they’d gradually let Dario’s cock slide out of her and she’d scrambled across the mattress to, she said, hunt out damp flannels, and she didn’t much care. Several minutes? Hours? God knew how long later, she’d crawled back into bed and let Dario wash her before she returned the favor and ministered to his dick. Now, she lay on her back, her arms around Dario so tightly she hoped to hell he didn’t need to cough or sneeze. If he did he’d probably lose his nuts, but she couldn’t bear to let him go.

  “We haven’t lost it,” she said. “God, love, I was so bloody frightened I’d never get my lover back, let alone my sub. I love our dynamics. I adore the fact you want to be my sub, but that’s nothing compared to how I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”

  “You haven’t,” Dario agreed, as he wriggled a little and her nipple moved out of his ear. “As a lover or a sub. And you won’t again. How on earth I got into that state defeats me. When I think of my attitude, I feel sick. I was an ass.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me on that point,” Tula said. “But, you know? I was no help either. All my Domme s
kills went out of the window. I felt so helpless and had no idea what to do except be here when you were ready to let me into your life again. And yes, I did wonder if it would ever happen.”

  “Thrash me if I go off on one like that again,” Dario said seriously. He spoiled his sensible demeanor with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Long and hard.”

  “But that’s no punishment,” Tula said with a laugh. With every hour he seemed more like her Dario again. And she had a nasty suspicion she was about to spoil things. “You like it.”

  “Well yeah,” Dario agreed. “The best thing ever to get me out of myself and into subspace. So thrash me, leave me dangling almost, but not quite there, and then tell me that’s what I’ll be missing.”

  He was silent for a while, and Tula stayed unmoving, as she enjoyed their closeness. To share a bed, feel his heat and his breath on her skin was beautiful. And now she was going to risk spoiling that. However, there was going to be no good time to tell him about Master Asshole of Bullshittery, and her lecture the following week, but tell him she must. She was mulling over the best was to explain, when Dario spoke.

  “You do know I’ll probably never play football again, don’t you?”

  Tula kissed the nearest bit of him she could reach. The top of his head. “Yes, I’m sorry, love. How do you feel about it?” A stupid question, she was sure he was furious and gutted.

  He sighed. “Well I am almost over the hill, I guess, so I’d have had what, two, three years more at best. It’s just all come a bit quicker than I’d anticipated or liked.”

  “But you’d have preferred to choose when to go, not had it thrust on you?”

  “Exactly. You’re the only person allowed to dictate to me, in any way, love. Ah, it can’t be helped. It was just one of those things. Now, though, I have to decide what to do. With your help.”

  “First off, I wouldn’t say someone deliberately tackling you in a way so dangerous they’ve been banned for the rest of the season, is just one of those things,” Tula pointed out. “As far as I’m concerned, he should have been banned for life. That’s the fourth time this year he’s been handed a red card. He’s a menace.”