The Denim Dom

Epilogue

Shayla awoke early Saturday morning and pounced on Tony. “Wake up, Sir!”

He slowly peeled one eyelid open to peer at her. “What time is it, pet?” he groggily mumbled.

“Seven thirty.”

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Five more minutes. And coffee, dammit.”

She giggled. “Yes, Sir. Coming right up.” Wearing nothing but her collar and leather wrist cuffs, she bounced out of bed and went to the kitchen to get the coffee started. When she returned to the bedroom five minutes later, she carried his mug of coffee, which she’d prepared exactly the way he liked.

She set the mug on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets and finding his cock. He was already slightly hard from a morning woody. She engulfed him with her mouth and slowly laved her tongue around the head. In seconds, he was fully hard.

Tony let out a groan and rolled onto his back. She smiled to herself as his fingers tangled in her hair and held on, using it as leverage to urge her deeper and faster.

Shayla knew she’d get a spanking for this and didn’t care. In fact, she was counting on it.

Deeper, faster, his pre-cum sweetly salty on her tongue, rewarding her efforts. It only took a couple of minutes. She cupped his sac with one hand while encircling the base of his shaft with the other. When she felt his balls draw up tight against her palm, she knew he was close. She went deep, swallowing him and moaning as his fingers dug into her scalp and his whole body tensed. He let out a grunt and then jets of his cum filled her mouth.

She eagerly swallowed every drop. She wouldn’t let go after he went soft once again, either, gently coaxing every last drop she could from his cock.

He stroked her head before making her let go. “Good girl,” he mumbled. “That’s five.”

She giggled. “I know, Sir.”

He raised the sheet up to look down at her. Waking Sir up without coffee being ready first was five strokes. Cane or hand or paddle, his choice. His sleepy smile warmed her heart.

He threw the sheet back and shoved his pillow up against the headboard. Then he patted his lap. “Let’s get it over with, pet.”

She practically threw herself over his thighs, head to the left as always so he could spank her right-handed.

As the fingers of his left hand hooked around her collar, she spread her legs a little. His right palm settled over her ass, stroking sweetly.

Then it fell still.

He did it fast and hard, delivering all five blows without drawing it out. It left her gasping with pain and need when he finished.

“Aw, is my poor pet horny?”

She kept her face buried in the sheets. “Yes, Sir.”

He laughed and patted her ass. “Over the bed, feet on the floor. I’ll be right back.”

She assumed the position as instructed, her nipples rubbing against the sheets and causing more erotic friction that didn’t help matters any. He’d mentioned taking her to get her nipples pierced. The thought both terrified her and thrilled her at the same time. It was something he’d left the decision about to her, and yet she couldn’t make up her mind. Loren swore by hers, said it made sex that much hotter.

She was considering turning the decision back over to him. She wanted to do it, but knew if it was up to her she wouldn’t.

She’d rather he make her do it.

She heard him in the bathroom. Then he walked down the hall. Somewhere she heard a door open and close and suspected he’d gone to the playroom.

Her whole body heated. No telling what he’d come back with.

When she heard him return, before he even reached the bedroom door he said, “No peeking. Face down.”

She closed her eyes and kept them closed.

She sensed him walk into the bedroom and then the heat from his body brushed against her thighs before he ever made contact with her. When he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, she heard the snap of a clip being attached to them, immobilizing her.

He laid something down on the bed next to her. Then came the feel of his thighs pressing against the back of her legs as he rubbed what felt like an enormous dildo between her legs.

Oh, crap.

He chuckled, apparently reading her body language. “Yes, you’ve earned the wrath of Khan this morning,” he teased. The large dildo was at the upper end of her ability to take. He’d joked that he named it that because of the scream of “Khaaaannnn!” that Captain Kirk let out in the movie.

Tony said it sounded like some of the noises she made when he used it on her.

She whimpered as he slowly began working it inside her. Oh, he was going to really torture her this morning. Usually keeping her on edge for a while. She felt him pause and then heard him sipping his coffee before he set the mug on the table again.

The forward progress continued. Khan stretched her, rubbing all the right places inside her. Halfway in, Tony slowly started fucking it in and out, each stroke a little deeper than the last, until he finally had its entire eight fat inches buried inside her and she felt the strap-on harness pressed against her ass.

Then he stopped.

Her muscles clenched around the toy, her need growing as she realized just how long he might draw this out this morning. “That’s right, pet. Might as well practice your Kegels on it for a few minutes. You know what happens when you’re too eager and don’t have my coffee ready. Feel free to squirm around all you want.” He pressed forward, which pinned her thighs against the bed.

With her wrists trapped behind her, all she could do was squirm against it. As she did, he lightly slapped her ass with what she guessed to be a small leather slapper. Barely stingy, it only served to add to her sexual frustration.

“Aww, my poor pet. Are you horny?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Serves you right.” He grabbed her wrists and fucked her hard for a few seconds before falling still again and leaving her even more frustrated. He repeated this for nearly half an hour, even turning on the TV to the morning news to watch while she begged for release and her thighs ached from the position.

“Please, Sir! Please, I’ll do anything. Please make me come!”

He chuckled and leaned in to nip her ear. “Well, let’s see. I’m feeling generous. I think when we go out today, pet will wear the short pink sundress I bought for you last weekend, no panties, and those high, strappy sandals I like. Either that, or another hour of this.”

She froze. He never dictated her work clothes. But when they were home, he often played barter games for her to wear what he wanted, making her choose between selecting sexy items he loved seeing her in simply for the sadistic pleasure of knowing how embarrassed it sometimes made her, or torture.

Either way, it was win-win for the sadist.

Truth be told, she considered it win-win for her, too.

“Which will it be, pet? Or it will be both if you don’t pick soon.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her face burning. She needed to come, right now!

“You’ll wear it? We’re going out for a late lunch with Seth and Leah, remember. We’ll be walking around St. Armand’s Circle. It’ll be breezy.”

Her face burned. “Yes, Sir. I know.”

He laughed. “Such a good girl. You make me so proud.” He grabbed her wrists with one hand, and then with the other he grabbed something else he’d brought in.

She heard a familiar click before the vibrator throbbed to life.

He reached under her and wedged it between her and the mattress, so that her body held it in place and she could rub herself against it.

“Come as much as you want, pet. You’ll be here a while regardless.” He started fucking her fast and hard. Every stroke shoved her onto the vibrator. The first cries of pleasure rolled out of her and she didn’t bother trying to keep quiet. Pain or pleasure, he enjoyed making her lose control and make all the noise she wanted. As orgasm after orgasm rolled through her, she lay there unable to do anything but take it.

The thought of safewording never crossed her mind.

“Ahhhhhh!” She was glad he had her bent over the bed because her legs wouldn’t support her any longer.

And still he fucked her, varying the strokes between short, shallow jabs that nailed her right in the G-spot every time and drove her over the edge again and again, to long, slow, deep ones that bottomed out inside her and added delicious discomfort to the pleasure.

Finally, when she was left sobbing and wrung out, her body limp and trembling, he withdrew and pulled the vibrator out from under her. He left her hands cuffed behind her and turned her onto her side so he could pull her all the way up onto the bed. Then he sat in front of her and let her press her face against his thigh as she recovered.

He tenderly stroked her hair. “My sweet pet. A good girl once again. All the bad beaten and fucked out of you for the day.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”

“My pleasure.” He gently tapped her nose so she’d open her eyes and look at him. “And Khan’s pleasure.”

She laughed and stared at the strap-on he still wore.

“I think you need to show Khan how much you appreciated it. You got him all wet.”

She looked up at him and then slowly climbed to her knees. Hands still cuffed behind her made it hard to maneuver, but she managed. She stared Tony in the eyes as she slowly went down on the dildo, her own taste filling her mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he said as he palmed her cheek.

She continued sucking on the dildo for another minute or two until Tony tapped her on the head. “Move, pet. Ass in the air.”

She turned and once again pressed her shoulders to the mattress, a smile on her face. Sir always got horny watching her do that. And sure enough, he pulled off the strap-on harness and his own cock was once again hard and ready. He knelt behind her on the bed and fed his real cock into her.

“This will be a quick one, pet. You’ve had your turn.” He grabbed her hips and she loved the feeling of him fucking her, using her, serving him.

Objectified? Absolutely, and she loved it because he more than showed his love for her every day. If this was how he wanted her to serve him?

Hell, yeah.

He dug his fingers in as he fucked her, knowing she loved the feel of that. “Here you go, pet.” He grunted as he took a few last, hard strokes inside her. He rested for a moment before withdrawing, a hand on her lower back to balance himself. Then he unclipped her wrists and flipped her over so he could kiss her.

“Who’s my good girl?”

She stared up into his eyes, a smile on her face. “Me, Sir.”

He kissed her again. “Okay, go wash Khan and the vibrator and put everything away and refill my coffee. Then meet me in the shower.”

“Yes, Sir.” She gathered everything and his coffee mug and hurried to do what he’d ordered. Five minutes later, she was in the shower with him.

“No panties all weekend, pet,” he said with a smile. “Remember—”

“Panties are a privilege, not a right,” she recited with a laugh. “Yes, Sir. I know.”

They’d been back from their honeymoon for a week. After catching up at work all the previous week, today was like a mini-vacation for them both. Naked except for her wrist cuffs and collar, which she’d put back on after the shower, Shayla fixed them a quick breakfast. If she didn’t feel good, or it was cold, she could wear clothes without permission. Otherwise, she was always to be naked in the house when they were alone.

She’d gotten over her self-consciousness about that the second week they’d lived together. Now, it felt like habit.

Less than an hour later they were in his car and heading to their destination. She suspected her face would be permanently blushing the entire time they were out. The hem of her dress hit at lower thigh when she stood, but sitting or bending over, or a stiff breeze, were different.

He held her hand as they walked inside the building and talked to the volunteer on duty. They had them fill out forms before they took them back to the cat area.

“Remember,” he whispered in her ear. “Your choice, but I would prefer two who maybe were brought in together, or two littermates.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They spent an hour looking at cats. She wanted to take them all home and knew she couldn’t. She finally decided on an older pair of cats, male and female, brother and sister littermates that were five years old. Their older owner had died and no family members took in the cats. The male, a black and white tuxedo, was already named Bagel. His sister, mostly black except for a white spot on her tummy, was named Cream.

Tony held Bagel. The cat rubbed his head against Tony’s goatee. “I guess we have our kids picked out,” he said.

She stroked Cream. “I don’t have the heart to change their names.”

“Neither do I,” he agreed.

While the shelter workers filled out all the adoption paperwork for them, Tony went out to the car and retrieved the two new cat carriers they’d purchased earlier that week. An hour later, their two cats were busy exploring their new home, including the six-foot-tall cat tree, complete with assorted scratching posts, ledges, and boxes, that now sat in front of a window in the living room.

“They aren’t allowed in the playroom, pet. Remember that.”

“Yes, Sir.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him. “Thank you, Sir.”

He slid her sundress up over her ass and patted her bare rump. “You might not be thanking me later. Let’s go meet up with Seth and Leah.”

She let her hand rest on his thigh as he drove. He laced his fingers through hers. “Whatcha’ thinkin’, pet?”

She smiled. “That considering how dominant cats are by their nature, I think you just got nonconsensually relegated to the role of a switch.”

His laughter roared through the car.

THE END

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