my DOMINATRIX (Adult BDSM Romance), page 1
my DOMINATRIX
By Mia Moore
Published by Mia Moore
Copyright 2013, Mia Moore
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About the Author
Chapter 1
Craig rolled his eyes and sighed. Muscles he didn’t know he had were screaming, while others, toned from his regular workouts at the gym, were just plain weary. A mountain of boxes was piled up in every room of his new apartment. Moving was right up there with death, taxes and pins in his eyeballs, in the scope of things
He turned as the door opened, revealing his best friend Mike loaded down with a couple more boxes.
“That’s the last of it buddy. You’re on your own now. I’ve got time for one beer and then I’ve got to leave to pick up Marcia from work.” Mike set the boxes down and placed a hand on his lower back, arching his body upward.
“Thanks Mike. I appreciate your help. When I get this mess straightened out I’ll have you and Marcia over for dinner.” Craig called over his shoulder as he walked to the fridge to get a couple of beers.
“No problem. You’ve helped me move a couple of times. Call it payback time.” Mike took the bottle from him and downed half in one swallow. Stifling a belch he asked. “You gonna be okay? Personally, I think you’re well to be away from Elaine. I mean, she was a nice enough person, I guess, but she was a little on the ‘Stepford Wife’ side. At least until she took up with that guy she works with.” He eased down to sit on the hardwood floor and leaned back against the tower of boxes.
“Yeah. To be honest, things hadn’t been good between us for about a year. We kind of drifted apart. So in a way, she saved me from having to end it. After going out since college, that would have been hard.” The night she told me she had found someone else, had been a surprise. Not so much that she had, but that he had felt only relief.
“Well you’re back to being a swinging bachelor. We might as well change your door to revolving right now; there’ll be so many women in and out.” Mike grinned and took another swig of beer.
“I don’t think so. I’m actually looking forward to just being on my own for a while. Watch as much football and hockey as I want, come and go without checking in with anyone and leave the toilet seat up. Hell, I may even get a dog. I won’t miss Elaine’s Siamese cats from hell.” Craig wandered over to the living room window when the front door on the first floor banged shut.
A woman with shoulder length brown hair, in a white T shirt above spandex, knee-length leggings was on the sidewalk below doing stretches. She was in pretty good shape but her face was hidden by the peaked cap she wore. He watched as she sprinted across the street and eventually disappeared on one of the pathways of the park.
“Well this apartment’s really nice, with the high ceilings and original woodwork. It’s got some character. And you’re closer to work and the gym. There’s something to be said for moving downtown out of the burbs. Whatcha lookin’ at?” Mike got to his feet and joined him next to the window.
“Oh, it must have been one of my neighbors who just left. She’s a runner who took off into the park over there.” He turned from the window and picked up his beer.
“Good body? Cute?” Mike’s eyebrows were wiggling up and down, doing his best lecherous impression.
“She looked pretty athletic but not sure about her face. Who cares? I just got out of the fire and you’re trying to throw me into the pan. Time for another beer?”
“I wish, but I’d better pass.” Mike looked at his watch. “Holy hell. I’ve gotta go. I’m gonna be late and Marcia will kill me.” He drained what was left in the bottle and flew out the door.
Craig went into the bedroom and began to tear the heavy plastic wrap from the new king sized mattress. The furniture that he and Elaine had bought together was contemporary, more suited to her taste than his. The four poster frame he’d picked up in an antique shop would be much more suited to an apartment like this. How long would it be before he’d christen it, having a woman share it for the night? Oh no, he was starting to sound like Mike.
There were a couple of women in the office who flirted outrageously and seemed open to No Strings Attached sex. Of the two, Darlene was the prettiest with the hottest body. But there was no way he’d ever get involved with someone he worked with—too many problems if something went wrong and then there was the office gossip. No, he’d take his time in the dating scene, ease back into it on his own terms, and that meant stepping outside the vanilla mainstream. Elaine had never been interested in trying anything different and he’d respected her wishes. Now he was free to explore some fantasies, which made dating someone from work DEFINITELY out of the question.
Now to decide where he should set the bed and armoire. If he didn’t get moving, he was going to have to sleep on the floor.
Two hours later, he sat, exhausted, demolishing a pizza he’d ordered, and washing it down with a cold beer. Thank God he had the weekend ahead of him to settle in. There were still many boxes left to unpack, but at least there was a bed and the coffee machine was set up. Thinking of coffee, he had forgotten to buy milk and if there was one thing he hated, it was black coffee. There was a small convenience store on the next block that would take him five minutes to get to.
He got to his feet and went out the door, turning to set the dead bolt.
“Hi. Are you the new neighbor?”
He startled and swiveled around at the source of the voice. It was the woman who he’d seen jogging away from the building. She was still in her jogging outfit. Her blue eyes sparkled and seemed to laugh in a face with high cheekbones and a wide, full lipped mouth.
“Yes. Just moved in. I’m Craig Morrison.” His hand shook slightly as he extended it towards her. She was in her mid thirties with a model’s face and a gymnast’s body, lean and muscled.
“I’m Sheila Latimer. I live across the hall from you. Welcome to the building.” Her grip was firm when she shook his hand. She smiled and turned to insert the key into her own wooden door.
“Thanks. Have you lived here long? I’m a pretty quiet guy so you won’t hear much noise from my apartment. I’m a good neighbor in that respect.” Craig lingered at his door, trying to prolong the conversation.
“I’m not.” She stepped inside about to close the door but popped her head out. “Quiet I mean.”
He could hear her lilting laugh as he headed down the hallway to the stairs. Did she mean she played her music loud or did she have a boyfriend and was a screaming wall banger?
***
By Saturday evening Craig had most of the boxes unpacked and was more or less organized. Most importantly, the big screen TV was set up, the Yankees were playing the Red Sox, there was beer in the fridge and the nachos in the oven were just about done. Not the ultimate swinging bachelor night but with the way he felt, tired with aching muscles, the next best thing.
The game was in the fifth inning when he heard it. He turned the sound on the TV down and cocked his ear. What the hell was that noise? There was a sharp crack, followed by a low moan and it was coming from the bedroom area. He stood up and went into the bedroom, stopping at the far wall that bordered his jogger neighbor. There was silence for a moment and he was about to leave when it happened again—louder this time. The snapping sound, immediately followed by a sharp cry.
What the hell was going on in there? The cry hadn’t sounded like a woman’s voice; it was definitely masculine, so it wasn’t Sheila. She wasn’t being hurt, so maybe he should just mind his own business and go back to the game. But he couldn’t. The snap sound came again. She’d said that she wasn’t a quiet neighbor, but this was the first sound he had heard from her apartment. Maybe she and her boyfriend were into some kinky sex thing.
His cock, straining at the rough jean fabric, caused his face to heat up. What kind of a Peeping Tom type perv was he becoming? He shook his head and walked back to the living room and flopped down on the sofa once more. He turned the volume way up to block out any sound coming from the apartment next door.
The Yankees had a five run lead and it was the bottom of the ninth, pretty obvious who was going to win this one. What else was on TV? He skimmed through the channels but really, he knew what he was looking for. Yes, the porn network. He stopped at a channel where a woman was beating a muscular man who was draped over a bench, his arms and legs secured. She was using what looked like a riding crop, striking his back and ass repeatedly.
Mr. Happy was enjoying the show, hard and at attention. What the hell. He was alone and this was the fantasy he’d tried to talk Elaine into doing with him. And the thought that his neighbor, not fifty feet away was probably doing just this with her boyfriend was too much to bear. He undid his belt buckle and zipper to free his cock which had begun to drizzle at the tip.
The scene on the TV now showed the tall, leather clad
“Yes, Mistress.” Craig whispered, glancing at the purple head of his cock and back to the screen. The woman raised her hand and delivered three more sharp cracks on the guy’s back. Craig closed his eyes… Yes, Mistress, punish me. On the screen, when he again opened his eyes, the guy was bent forward, cradling the woman’s booted foot, licking the toe. Ohmygod, this was almost too much.
The program ended with the woman leaving the room, fading to black as the camera focused on the kneeling man, head bowed. Craig turned the TV off and wandered into the kitchen turning off lights and preparing for bed. His cock was hard and bobbing it’s presence as he wandered into his bedroom.
As he lifted his T shirt above his head, the front door of the building banged shut. He bent down, peering through the window to see if it was Sheila leaving the building. Instead a man wearing a hat and overcoat was highlighted in the light of the front door before he walked away quickly disappearing down the street. Sheila’s apartment was quiet now. Maybe that was the moaner he’d heard earlier—probably not her boyfriend from the way he’d almost scurried away.
He slipped his pants and underwear off chastising himself for being so nosy. He was becoming a regular Big Brother spying through the window. Besides, his cock reminded him he had unfinished business.
He slipped between the cool cotton sheets and closed his eyes, recalling the porno scene on the TV. Instead of the dark haired woman, he pictured Sheila lashing him with the riding crop, forbidding him to touch himself. In his fantasy, She wore a short black vinyl skirt, bra and thigh high boots, raising her strong arms to beat him repeatedly. With each imagined blow, he got closer and closer. He held off as long as he could. That’s what Sheila was telling him… finally he couldn’t hold back, and came. His ass muscles clenched as he blew all over his hand and belly. With an evil smile, imaginary Sheila bent over him and…
His breathing evened and sleep overcame him.
Chapter 2
Sheila removed the make-up on her face and loosened her hair from the high pony tail. It had been a successful session dominating Rob, the first time she’d allow him to masturbate to orgasm. He’d been so pleased that he’d given her a fifty dollar tip on top of the three hundred dollar fee.
She undid the hooks and eyes on the front of the black corset and slid it off her shoulders. The sudsy bath was almost full when she stepped into it and eased down, finishing by laying the warm, wet facecloth over her eyes. She pictured Rob’s face and his hard cock as he stroked himself, stretching upward to lick the toe of her boot. Maybe in the next session, she’d allow him to eat her out.
Her fingers drifted in the warm water to her hard clit, teasing it softly as a lover’s tongue. In her mind it was a submissive’s tongue she had ordered to lick her, slapping his face when he stopped to swallow or take a breath. Her fantasy sub wanted to fuck her but she wouldn’t allow this. He had to prove his worthiness in how well he adored her cunt with his mouth. Her fingers stroked quickly now as she writhed in the tub, spilling water over the side before she became lost in her orgasm.
Her breathing and body relaxed into the warmth of the tub. Had the new neighbor been able to hear Rob’s moans and the crack of the whip? She’d been able to hear the occasional rumble from his TV set. He seemed like a nice guy but he had to be at least seven years younger that she was. It didn’t matter that he was a hunk with the dark blue eyes and body that could make a nun wet. Besides, he was probably vanilla with a harem of sweet cheerleader types.
The water was starting to cool off when she rose from the tub. She dried off and went into her bedroom, her hand stopping in mid air, about to pull the comforter back. Did she just hear someone murmur her name? She cocked her head to the side, straining to listen. No, it must have been her imagination.
She sat down on the bed and picked up the book she was reading by Anais Nin. There were always a few things to learn to make her hobby more enjoyable for the client as well as herself.
If the lawyers in the office knew what their pretty little paralegal did for fun they’d either have a coronary or be rushing to the bathroom to jerk off. But that was something they’d never find out although they did seem curious that she was able to take a two week vacation in Costa Rica every winter on her salary.
Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. She’s be able to sleep in, go for a long run and indulge her second passion—creating a culinary delight to end the week. It was a good thing she exercised so much or else she’d be the size of a house.
***
The autumn day was glorious for a run. Sheila stretched first one leg, then the other on the sidewalk outside the apartment building. There was still warmth in the sun and the smell of the foliage that had fallen filled the air.
As she was about to sprint across the street to the park the door to the building opened and the new neighbor, wearing jogging shorts and a T shirt, stepped out. The large muscles in his arms and legs were firm and shining in the sunlight. His smile in his handsome face was open and friendly, a bit hard to resist.
“Hi Sheila. Mind if I run with you? What a day, eh? Beautiful.” He came bouncing down the front steps to jog in place beside her, waiting for her answer.
“Hi Carl. I usually run by myself, with music blasting through my ear buds. I’m not really good company.” She couldn’t help returning his smile, even though her words were meant to discourage him.
“It’s Craig and that’s okay. I get winded so I’m not much for conversation either when I run.”
“It’s a free country; you can run wherever you want. Just don’t expect me to wait for you when you get tired.” She called over her shoulder, already ten steps ahead of him.
She normally eased into her pace to warm her muscles up but today she ran at a fast jog from the outset. That would discourage him from wanting to run with her again. The heady beat of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep pounded in her ears, matching the jabbing punch of her footsteps on the pathway.
What? She watched Craig come abreast of her and grin before he poured on the steam, sprinting past her. Oh yeah? Her legs screamed in pain when she raced to catch up and then pass him. Take that little boy. Another mile and she’d be done. Could she keep up this pace for that long? She risked a glance behind her and saw that he had stopped, bent over panting for air. Her arms rose in the classic Rocky gesture at her victory and she grinned.
When she completed her circuit, crossing the street to her apartment building, Craig was sitting on the stone steps, legs stretched out and crossed.
“Hey slow poke. What took you so long?” The skin around his eyes was wrinkled in his wide smile.
“Cheater. You never completed the run and besides it wasn’t a race.” She placed her foot on the step next to him, stretching her hamstring, watching as his eyes went from her foot, up her leg to her damp crotch. Subtlety must not be his strong suit. If she had him in her living room on his knees, she’d teach him a thing or two about respect.
“You’re a good runner from the looks of your legs. How often do you go out?” He was now looking into her eyes.
That was better. “About five times a week for a two mile run. It’s the only exercise I get and helps clear my head from work.” She started up the stairs. He was a nice guy but it wouldn’t be wise to get too chummy. The next thing you know, he’d be knocking on her door to borrow sugar or something, have coffee. No, her privacy was too important to invite this kind of trouble.
“Hey, want to get together for coffee and dessert later tonight? How about that little restaurant down the street that specializes in pastries? My treat.” His head had turned following her progress up the stairs, probably checking out her ass.
“Sorry. I’ve got plans. See you around.” She opened the door and went into the building. He didn’t need to know that her plans involved pleasing herself, cooking. Maybe he’d take the hint as she hadn’t asked for a rain check. She knew the first names of the other tenants in the building and that was as much as she cared to know about any of them.
