“Distract me.” I begged him. I was sitting in tiny office trying to figure out why the internet had gone down and I was beyond frustrated.
“Rawr!” I typed out into my phone, annoyed with myself for being so overwhelmed by the task at hand that I was now complaining to the Dom I have only played with a few times.
I need more friends. I thought to myself as I continued to text Dr. Grimm my annoyances. I needed to be distracted and I knew that he would be able to do that instantly.
“I’m at work” came the reply.
I frowned at my phone but pushed again.
“Okay, then I’ll distract you and thus distract myself”. I stated, briefly testing the line to see where it was. “What was your favorite part about last night?” I asked.
“Tying you up to the bar and then caning you.” He responded quickly. “Caning is my favorite.” He confessed.
I smiled. Of course caning is your favorite. My smile widened. Caning is my favorite too, I just don’t let on about it usually because, well it’s not often a submissives favorite tool, at least, not with the subs I know. I shook my head; more similarities. It is sometimes a little scary just how much I seem to have in common with him. I am not a commitment girl. Not anymore. Not after my ex. Period.
This means that I am having to set new lines, new boundaries, new hard limits and figure it all out as I go. Commitment terrifies me.
“How many times have you imagined me bound and gagged…” I sent the text. I like to tease too.
“…along the counter tops at your workplace?” I finished.
My iphone made that little sound that says my text message has been read instantly. I smiled knowing that he was waiting on my response, watching his phone, just as I was watching mine. I felt like a giddy school girl but that thought just made me giggle too.
“None. But the warehouse in back on the other hand…” he let the sentence hang.
“Oh really?! Do tell!” I responded.
“Haha, somethings I will keep to myself.”
“Tease” I smirked as I wrote that, wondering if he would show me just how much of a tease he can be. I am getting the feeling that my sarcasm comes across as challenges to him, and I have to admit, I like it!
He lets me ramble on and on. He doesn’t tell me that my thoughts are stupid. He doesn’t tell me that he’s bored with my topic of choice. He just listens. He responds, in tiny ways that let me know he actually heard me. And he retains most of what I say (if not all of it).
Excitement bubbled over my skin in the form of goosebumps.
Our texts continued throughout the day. We talked a bit about our childhood sports teams, the things we loved about school, how many credits we’ve each tried to tackle at once, and so on. We mixed in a healthy dose of seductive teasing but we kept the topic pretty clean otherwise. It was nice. Normal almost, and yet the dark link of our kinky fantasies was always just below the surface of what was written.
I asked him what he was doing later and when he told me he’d actually be out near where I live, I jumped at the opportunity to invite him over for a bit.
“Is there a park near you?” He asked me.
Images of being bound to a swing or the monkey bars or even the weird spinning thing they used to have in parks when I was growing up, flashed through my mind.
“There are several” I answered, mostly guessing. I’m new (ish) to the Charlotte area. I grew up here, but because I’ve been gone for the last seven years (New York, Texas, California) I wasn’t sure where the parks were anymore. But I know this neighborhood and I know the surrounding neighborhoods and I knew there were at least a half dozen parks nearby.
I quickly asked Siri where the closest park was, but deemed it too public for any real play. It’s late in the evening. At this point we are clearly looking for somewhere semi-private and outdoors but neither of us relish the idea of being arrested for anything or having someone random thinking he’s actually beating me.
“Ready to be distracted?” I messaged him.
“Soon.” He replied. Short and to the point. Clearly he was busy, but not so much that he chose not to check his phone and respond.
To tease him back for the lack of a fantasy earlier, I sent him a photo of the toys I happened to have with me. I have several pairs of cuffs, a lovely leather flogger, a few paddles (soft, light ones but they still do the job nicely), the hogties I have and, of course, the nipple clamps I own.
“Oooh! And what is the address?” His response was almost immediate. I giggled as I texted him my location.
He pulled into the driveway and my phone dinged.
“I’m here” he stated.
No shit, really? I thought to myself. But this time was going to be different. Different Dom, different rules, different levels of safety (they actually exist here), different. So I sent him a text back.
“Are you a gentleman or not, Sir?” I asked.
“Usually I am, but it’s late and I’ve never been to this house before.” He answered.
That made sense to me, but I held my ground.
“Come to the door. Please.” I sent back.
I waited for what felt like ten minutes, trying my best not to jump around the house like a giddy school girl ready for her first date (again. I’d already done that several times tonight in front of my best friend and the woman I consider to be a second mother). I didn’t want him to see me jumping around though, not over something so silly as him walking to the damn door to take me out. God, I was smitten. Am smitten. This is so not good! And yet, I can’t pull back, haven’t even bothered to try. I like this guy. I like how much he fascinates me. I like how much younger he is than me. All thoughts left my mind as I heard a knock on the door. Well, all non-kinky thoughts.
I am in lust. It practically glows off of me. Mama C wouldn’t let me answer the door. She said she was going to check him out first and invite him in. She told me to sit but I couldn’t, I was far too hyped up for that.
She already knew a lot about him from what I’ve told her (she knows about our lifestyle and fully approves, even encourages it) but he knows very little about her so she introduced herself with “Hi, Doctor Grimm. I’m Mama C. and you of course know Autumn.” And winked at me. He came in, his eyes twinkling at Mama C and then looked at me and they went dark and mysterious and even a little daring. I swooned a bit in the hall where I was waiting on him. I lead him into the breakfast room where my friend D was sitting and introduced them too.
“Okay well I’m out, I have my keys, I’ll be home late” I said and bounced out of the room, expecting him to follow. He is far too polite to say hello and run though and he ignored me in the hallway and chatted with my friends for a bit. It took me a minute or two to realize that he wasn’t rushing out of there. I came back in, slightly embarrassed but no one chastised me for it. They all knew that I was eager to go play. The softness of the caring from the three of them flowed over me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. I didn’t have to walk on eggshells here. I am not going to get in trouble for breaking rules I don’t know exist or for embarrassing someone without meaning to.
After a few more minutes of polite conversation we made excuses to leave. As soon as we got outside he looks at me and says
“You know, I drove 40 minutes to get here.” He stated. My mind jumped and worried while my heart skipped a beat.
“Should I go grab my bag of toys, Sir?” I asked, a little fearful of the idea that I had made him drive out here. Uh-oh. Is this a red flag? Are you teasing me? Am I really in trouble for you driving out to see me? I wondered to myself.
“Yes. Especially since you said the word fuck.” He said to me, eyes steely with disapproval.
I blushed a deep red and looked at the ground in front of me. Ohhh shit! No fuck, wait ugh! I thought to myself, trying not to giggle again as I ran past him towards the door and then ran inside to grab my toy bag.
“Forgot our toys!” I shouted at the women in the kitchen as I raced in, grabbed the bag and then raced back out yelling “Bye!” as I shut the door behind me.
He was in his car when I got back to him. I climbed in.
“Hi.” I said happily.
“Hello.” He responded and instantly grabbed onto my left tit, tugging hard on the nipple. Pleasure pooled out from that spot and I leaned into his hand a bit.
“Take off the padding.” He ordered.
I don’t like my boobs. In fact I kind of hate them, so I tend to wear well padded bras to help perk them up to what I want them to be. I would have frowned at the idea of being braless but I liked the idea of him having easy access much more than I enjoy wearing a bra.
“What park are we going to?” he asked as his thumb ran over my nipple again, bushing the spots he had just pinched.
“Oh, um, that way” I said with my eyes closed as I just pointed randomly in front of us at the road. It took me a moment to control my thoughts and remember that I was the one directing us here, at least in the destination for the evening.
He chuckled at me and drove. As we went he told me bits and pieces about his life. We were both raised in the area so we would point to random neighborhoods and talk about the people we knew that lived there, or the houses we used to live in around where we were driving past, or where our first kisses happened and how old we were at the time.
His hand touched the top of my left thigh as he talked. His nails digging into my jeans a bit as he gripped my leg and then worked his way up to the top of my jeans. Never once did he falter in conversation. His hand slipped down the front of my pants and straight over my panties as he continued telling me some story about his third grade teacher living in the neighborhood we just passed. My mind tried to concentrate on his words, but I struggled to follow what exactly he was saying.
He fingered me and played with my clit, teasing me to the brink of orgasm and then pulling back a little. He kept me on the edge.
“Remember, I don’t like messes.” He stated matter of factly.
“I know, Sir, that’s why I’m holding back” I breathlessly responded, trying hard not to cum on the spot.
“And what do good girls do?” he asked as he inserted two fingers into my pussy.
“Ask for permission to cum” I quickly answered.
“Good girl” he said.
He asked me questions about my childhood and my early adult years. He asked about my exes and reminded me that I was the one telling him where to go.
“Pay attention to the road.” He said to me. Before I could remind him that he was the one driving, I remembered that I was the one with the destination in mind.
Twice he allowed me to orgasm during the drive. Both times at stop lights where others could have easily watched him giving me pleasure (if they weren’t all on their phones that is).
When we arrived at our destination he got out of the car and told me to stay put. He grabbed a pair of latex gloves and put them on.
“Usually I don’t wear gloves, but I don’t relish the idea of having to wipe off my hands every time you cum” he smiled at me.
I smiled back, knowing that as a squirter, I can get a little messy from time to time when I cum.
“I don’t blame you.” I smiled up at him.
He nodded, pleased with my response, and ordered me to get out of the car.
It was cold. I was wearing a tank-top and jeans. I hadn’t thought to grab a coat, I honestly didn’t expect it to be chilly. He leaned into the car to go through my toy bag. I can’t remember what we were talking about while he was inspecting my toys but I do remember having to spit.
I listened to him and turned my head and spat into the grass.
He froze. Straight up, froze and then slowly, ever so slowly pulled back out of the car and turned towards me.
As soon as I had spat, I knew I’d made a mistake. I knew that this was one of his biggest dislikes and I hadn’t even thought of it until just then, when he froze and the world suddenly got very quiet around us.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let me explain!” I half laughed, half spoke. I told him about my asthma and how I am trying to get rid of the last of the mucus left in my lungs from the sinus infection I picked up when I moved back out here. He nodded, understanding and then smiled and shrugged. He put the nipple clamps on and asked me to tell him when they were too tight. I inhaled deeply with the first nipple and actually yelped when he put the clamp on the second nipple.
“Okay, I’ll accept that. This time you’ll only get 15.” And he confidently grabbed a paddle and walked around to the front of the car.
I didn’t have to ask what he wanted out of me. I just followed him, knowing what his next order would be and stood at the hood of the car.
“Hands on the hood” He stated, fingering the clamps on my nipples, tugging and pulling as he did so.
I shook my head a bit at just how well everything was going, even this moment where I had messed up again, and was being handled gently. Yes, gently. Even though he is a sadist and enjoys bringing out my inner pain slut, he doesn’t break his toys. His goal isn’t to actually hurt me, like Jason’s was. His goal is our equal enjoyment out of everything, even the punishments. Yet another thing that made this so good and so very different from my past experiences.
What’s really amazing is that he knows my past and he knows I’m still recovering and he made sure that I knew he cares enough to tread lightly. He even mentioned a few times that he was being more gentle with me than he wanted to be. He stated that he would love to really redden my rear end, but wasn’t going to because he and I and his friend Mr. Sinn had just had one of the best MMF threesomes I’ve ever had the night before, and he knew I was probably a good bit sore from that still. (It had involved caning, flogging, rope and a few other fun things but that’s for another blog post.)
He had me thank him after each spanking. Somewhere around number 7 I thought I heard footsteps in the woods behind where we’d parked the car. We knew there was someone in the building watching us, it was an older looking building and we assumed that the homeless or addicts or whomever might be lurking in the darkness there was probably watching us. There was loud evidence of another person on the premises when we first pulled up and parked the car, but we had both chosen to ignore it.
“Drop to your knees” he demanded after I had received my fifteenth spanking.
“Yes, Sir!” I responded and immediately obeyed.
He pulled his cock out and told me to suck it. I think he had maybe gotten the word “suck” out before I was eagerly swallowing him whole.
Somehow I managed to make him cum in less than two minutes. A first for me with oral. Jason, my last “dom”, had always told me I was horrible at blow jobs. He made it a point to tell me how pathetic I was when I was trying my best to suck him off. He would bitch and complain about how sad it was for a woman my age, who loves sex, to be so bad at it. These things ran through my head as I swallowed Dr. Grimm’s cum, tasting the sweetness of it as I drank it all in.
When I was finished, he grabbed both of my nipples and tugged upwards and ordered me to stand up.
“What do you say?” He asked.
“Thank you, Sir” I couldn’t help but appreciate the kind way he ordered me to thank him. Everything felt so foreign and yet so good to me.
He fucked me on the hood of his car, but pulled out before I could really cum and long before he could have cum again if he’d wanted to.
“That is all for tonight.” He said. “After all, I do have class in the morning. Get in.” He stated as he pointed to the passenger door.
I was frowning in the dark, but I agreed with him. It was late, I needed to get home and write, and sleep and get up early in the morning too. I have things I need to do tomorrow and I needed to be fully awake for that. Responsibilities suck. And I giggled at my thought as I touched my lips and thought about his cum in my belly.
I climbed into the car and he apologized for cutting this scene a little short.
“Keep the nipple clamps on until you get home.” He ordered as he started the drive back to my place. At one point he started talking to me about his first submissive and how much he had learned from that experience. I interrupted him to tell him that if he was trying to make me jealous, it wouldn’t work. (Not yet anyway, there haven’t been any red flags thus far and I feel completely and totally comfortable with him.) I am not really the jealous type, not when I am being treated well anyway. I also don’t believe that jealousy is one emotion. I believe it is the result of several, usually negative emotions and actions that add up to someone in the relationship feeling jealous.
He smirked at me. “Jealousy is not the intent.” He started. “This is merely…”
“Sharing stories” I finished for him, pleased that we were on the same page.
“I don’t usually share my subs, and when I do… well it’s extremely rare.” He looked at me as he said that.
“But you shared me last night.” I countered, curious as to where I stood in his mind, not sure I really wanted to know the answer just yet. I fear that I am never going to be good enough. More bullshit leftover from the ex. I was never, ever good enough at anything for Jason. Every little thing I did for Jason, every good grade I earned, every chore I completed, every meal I cooked, came layered with backhanded compliments and full on criticisms of just how bad of a sub I was when I was with Jason.
Dr. Grimm isn’t like that, but my fears flare up more often than I’d like them to and I worried just the same that he saw me more of a whore to be passed around and used than as a submissive willing to fully serve her Dom if he treats her right.
“That was different and new for both of us” he said, meaning him and Mr. Sinn. It was my second MMF experience but better than my first one!
I nodded, content with his response. I had more questions but I was afraid to ask them so I kept quiet and stared out the window of the car not noticing the scenery as we went. My mind raced down a hundred different paths, all leading to the same question. “Where do I stand here?”
I didn’t ask. Instead I asked about exclusivity and what he viewed our current relationship as.
“We’re good play buddies” he said confidently. “We haven’t even discussed a contract yet, so for now, we’re just play partners. However, I expect first dibs at all club events we attend.” He finished.
“Sir…” I paused trying to figure out how to delicately say this without sounding like I had already committed to him, because I hadn’t yet. “There is no one else at that club that I wish to play with right now” I thought of the sexy pirate and her Dom at the party last weekend. I would have played with them. She’s incredibly gifted in beauty and her personality sparkles. She’s clearly a Top when it comes to other women and I liked that about her. Yes, I would have played with them on Sunday if not for the fact that Dr. Grimm had waltzed in and stolen my very breath away.
I smiled remembering the first moments I laid eyes on him. And then thought about his naked body and his fully erect cock the many, many times he has fucked me, brought me to orgasm over and over again and gently held me as I come down from each orgasm. He knows so much about women and what they crave, what they need, what it takes to get them to orgasm and how to handle even the small sub-drop like dips that follow powerful orgasms. Yes. This Dom knows what he’s doing and is skilled at just about everything we’ve done so far. I am impressed with him all over again.
I want more. I almost don’t even want to write that because I fear how it may come across, both to him and to my faithful readers who know the full back story of my broken relationship with “master Jason” from my old Serving Master blog. But I can’t hide it either, and it’s safer for me to type it out than to say it out loud. I’m not there yet, but I know I want it. Eventually. What scares me is the speed at which I am craving him and the intensity of said cravings.
He walked me to the door when we got home. After removing the nipple clamps he asked how I felt. I felt good. Cared for. Happy. I invited him in, even though I knew he was tired and needed to get home. I knew he would decline but I waited there anyway, the offer standing between us. He assumed that I was waiting for a kiss, and I think a part of me may have been, but I know he doesn’t… enjoy kissing quite as much as I do. It gives away too much for him, too quickly. There is power in kissing and this Dom has an oddly fascinating struggle between wanting more and needing more. I think that kissing might be the threshold between the two.
Not to mention that I had just sucked him off and swallowed his cum. Some guys find kissing a girl after that to be a little odd. I think it’s silly. We lick ourselves off of their fingers all the time. We eagerly (most of us) drink their cum. It doesn’t taste bad. It’s part of who they are, but there’s a whole social stigma against it for men and most of them follow suit and snub their noses at the idea. I’m not sure if Dr. Grimm is I that category or not, but it didn’t matter anyway. This is a soft limit for him, and I respect the limits.
Just before I waltzed into the house, he held my attention once more with his eyes.
“Tonight was about distraction” he stated simply and then turned and walked back to his car.
My jaw dropped. I had asked him to distract me earlier. His one line, his parting line at that, told me once more just how different he was from my abuser. He cared… so much so that he drove all the way out here to fully and completely distract me senseless. Because I asked him to.
And that, ladies and gentleman, is how a Good Dom behaves.