Read Online Not Your Damn Dom (Denial #2) by Amy Valenti - Free Book Online
Authors: Amy Valenti
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most of them people I’d never want to train in the other sense of the word. But Alex was a wholly different matter. I wanted to see her on her knees. Watch her fall into a position I’d trained her to use in my presence. Pull her corset so tight that she gasped before I laced it before a fetish event.
What would it be like, walking into Scene One with a sub on my arm again? I doubted many people would be surprised. They all seemed to think I was just taking a hiatus from the BDSM lifestyle, that I’d go back to it one day.
Let them see what happened when they got out of control and broke a submissive ’s trust. Then let them hear that they’d get over it eventually. They wouldn’t be so quick to say it after that.
Kristin . I took her picture from my bedside drawer and stared at it. She’d booked a boudoir photography session with a mutual friend for my birthday, and he’d taken a whole range of shots of her in her underwear, heels and collar—here draped over a piece of fetish furniture, smiling seductively over her shoulder…there on her knees, looking up at the camera the way she always used to look at me.
This picture was the only one I ’d been unable to throw away after all this time. It had always been my favourite of the collection. In it, she was in one of the classic slave positions—forehead to the floor, her arms stretched out over her head, her knees tucked under her. The curve of her spine into her ass had been something I’d always emphasised that I loved about Kristin, and she’d known it when she’d asked for the shot.
I never wanted to see Alex in that position. It was too personal, too much like replacing the submissive I’d lost. But I ached to see her on her knees for me. Maybe I’d bind her hands behind her back and order her to suck my cock. She’d relish the challenge of that, I already knew. She was a determined one, more determined than Kristin had been.
That thought made me pause. For the first time in a long while, I’d found something about Kristin’s memory that was less than nostalgic and perfect. She always had given up a little too easily, waited for me to acquiesce or used her slow word to manipulate me. Sometimes I’d let her get away with it, overcome with lust and unable to restrain myself from taking her any longer. Sometimes I’d disciplined her, though she’d never seemed to learn from those punishments.
Now I was wondering how Alex would respond to my correction, as a submissive receiving her Dom’s criticism. I’d fallen too far back into my old patterns of thinking, far too fast.
I put Kristin ’s picture back into the drawer and left the bedroom, which still carried a faint trace of Alex’s scent.
I had to start thinking vanilla. We were going out to dinner tonight. How had I done things before I got into the BDSM lifestyle? Things had always seemed a little forced and uncomfortable in formal date situations. Now, if I could make Alex slip a remote-controlled vibrator into her cunt halfway through the meal and set it off at random intervals, right up until she was begging to skip dessert and go home…
Stop, stop, stop. I groaned and rested my forehead on the living room window pane. A light rain was beginning to fall.
Romance on a vanilla level. How did that work, again?
Fuck it. I’d text her and suggest takeout instead. At least if I was at her place, and her roommate was around, it would make me show a little restraint.
* * * *
Alex
I hadn’t put a huge amount of thought into my outfit, since I’d suggested we check out one of the new bistros off the beaten track and the dress code was pretty casual. So when Spencer suggested we stay in and do takeout instead, I was happy to agree. All that sitting across from each other in public, making forced conversation, could get a little awkward anyway.
He showed up at my door in jeans and a button-down shirt —the first time I’d seen him out of his gym workout gear. “Wow, Mr.
What would it be like, walking into Scene One with a sub on my arm again? I doubted many people would be surprised. They all seemed to think I was just taking a hiatus from the BDSM lifestyle, that I’d go back to it one day.
Let them see what happened when they got out of control and broke a submissive ’s trust. Then let them hear that they’d get over it eventually. They wouldn’t be so quick to say it after that.
Kristin . I took her picture from my bedside drawer and stared at it. She’d booked a boudoir photography session with a mutual friend for my birthday, and he’d taken a whole range of shots of her in her underwear, heels and collar—here draped over a piece of fetish furniture, smiling seductively over her shoulder…there on her knees, looking up at the camera the way she always used to look at me.
This picture was the only one I ’d been unable to throw away after all this time. It had always been my favourite of the collection. In it, she was in one of the classic slave positions—forehead to the floor, her arms stretched out over her head, her knees tucked under her. The curve of her spine into her ass had been something I’d always emphasised that I loved about Kristin, and she’d known it when she’d asked for the shot.
I never wanted to see Alex in that position. It was too personal, too much like replacing the submissive I’d lost. But I ached to see her on her knees for me. Maybe I’d bind her hands behind her back and order her to suck my cock. She’d relish the challenge of that, I already knew. She was a determined one, more determined than Kristin had been.
That thought made me pause. For the first time in a long while, I’d found something about Kristin’s memory that was less than nostalgic and perfect. She always had given up a little too easily, waited for me to acquiesce or used her slow word to manipulate me. Sometimes I’d let her get away with it, overcome with lust and unable to restrain myself from taking her any longer. Sometimes I’d disciplined her, though she’d never seemed to learn from those punishments.
Now I was wondering how Alex would respond to my correction, as a submissive receiving her Dom’s criticism. I’d fallen too far back into my old patterns of thinking, far too fast.
I put Kristin ’s picture back into the drawer and left the bedroom, which still carried a faint trace of Alex’s scent.
I had to start thinking vanilla. We were going out to dinner tonight. How had I done things before I got into the BDSM lifestyle? Things had always seemed a little forced and uncomfortable in formal date situations. Now, if I could make Alex slip a remote-controlled vibrator into her cunt halfway through the meal and set it off at random intervals, right up until she was begging to skip dessert and go home…
Stop, stop, stop. I groaned and rested my forehead on the living room window pane. A light rain was beginning to fall.
Romance on a vanilla level. How did that work, again?
Fuck it. I’d text her and suggest takeout instead. At least if I was at her place, and her roommate was around, it would make me show a little restraint.
* * * *
Alex
I hadn’t put a huge amount of thought into my outfit, since I’d suggested we check out one of the new bistros off the beaten track and the dress code was pretty casual. So when Spencer suggested we stay in and do takeout instead, I was happy to agree. All that sitting across from each other in public, making forced conversation, could get a little awkward anyway.
He showed up at my door in jeans and a button-down shirt —the first time I’d seen him out of his gym workout gear. “Wow, Mr.
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