Diamonds and Toads: A Modern Fairy Tale (6 page)

She released him. “Under no circumstances are
you to have an orgasm unless you first ask my permission.”

His balls ached. “Yes, mistress,” he said
through clenched teeth.

She began circling him. “You’ve done very
well, pet,” she said, sliding her hand over his backside. When she
was facing him once more, she leaned in and gave him a small kiss
on the mouth. An almost uncontrollable urge to dive into her hit
him like a right jab to the solar plexus, but the sound of the whip
slapping her palm, jerked him back into their role play.

“What is my name?”

He had to think a second. “Mistress
Domnonea.”

“Now, pet, you’re going to be making a lot of
noise in a few minutes and we must establish a safe word. Something
that lets me know when you’ve truly had enough.
Capish?
”

His heart hammered against his ribcage.
A
lot of noise?
Eyes tripping down to the whip again, he somehow
managed to say, “Yes, mistress.”

“Why not ‘diamond’?”

He smiled. “Yes, mistress.”

“Tell me the safe word.”

“Diamond.”

“What is it?”

“Diamond, mistress.”

“And once more?”

“Diamond.” He was getting the hang of this
pretty well, he thought.

“Good.” She stroked his ear with her index
finger. It sent a lightning bolt of electricity directly to his
dick. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

“You may look at me now.” His eyes traveled
up her leather-clad body to her face. “How do I look?” she
asked.

“Nice, mistress.”

She slapped her whip against his buttocks. He
flinched reflexively, surprised and relieved when it didn’t
actually even sting.

“Nice? No, no. That won’t do. Tell me again,
how do I look?”

He swallowed. “Sexy, mistress?”

This time the whip whacked his thigh. “You
didn’t say that as if you meant it. Again: How do I look?”

Okay, tell her the unvarnished truth.
“Mistress Domnonea, my cock has been like granite since the moment
you entered the room in that pornographic but provocative number. I
love your ass. It’s round and lush and I want to bite it. Your
breasts, the way they’re nearly falling out of that top, makes me
want to suck hard on them. Your face is beautiful—especially that
mouth. It’s made for giving a man pleasure. I want nothing more
than to touch you, devour you, and fuck you.”

The creamy skin on her chest turned pink, so
he knew he’d gotten to her with that, but he had to hand it to her,
she never went out of character. Leaning forward, she slid her
tongue across his lower lip. “Good, my pet,” she whispered against
his mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”

His brain froze. He nodded.

“I repeat, do you want me to touch you,
pet?”

“Y-yes, mistress. Very much.”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“I want you to suck my cock, mistress.”

“No, pet, the answer is: ‘whatever you want,
mistress’. Say it.”

He swallowed the panic. “Wh-whatever you
want, mistress.”

She smiled at him. There was more tenderness
than decadence in her gaze. It calmed him a bit. “Who does your
body belong to?”

That stumped him for a moment, but then he
smiled, proud of himself. “
You
, mistress.”

“Good, pet.” She twisted her finger in the
tie to his—her—g-string. “Take these off.”

Holy hell. Was she really going to do
it?
Integrity and excitement had a righteous row inside him.
Excitement won. “Yes, mistress.” He was bare-assed in under a
second.

“Now, walk over and face that wall over
there.” She indicated the expanse next to her closet.

He looked again at the whip, but
complied.

“Lean with your hands against the wall, and
spread your legs.”

For some reason, this sent a tingle of dread
up his spine. He swiveled his head to look at her.

“Do it!”

He hurried to comply. “Yes, mistress.”

She lifted the flogger up to his face. “Take
a good, long look at this, pet. See how the handle is made for a
woman’s grip? How lovely the red satin ribbons are that twine
around it?”

“Y-yes, mistress.”

“Smell it.”

He smelled it. It smelled of leather—and
fear.

“This is your friend, it tells you no lies,
it allows no lies. It wants only for you to know its power and its
swift discipline when you stray.”

His heart rocketed around in his chest.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
“Yes
mistress.”

She ran the flogger over his belly,
dangerously close to his groin. His heart leapt into his throat.
“What is your safe word, pet.”

That calmed him. “Diamond.”

“Good.” She dangled the tassels over his hard
on and it jerked in reaction. He stiffened, both with fear and
lust. “Arch your back and thrust your butt out.”

“Why, mistress?”

She spanked him with her bare hand. “No
questions! Arch your back and thrust your butt out. Now.” When he
still hesitated, she slapped his ass even harder. That time it
really stung. Somehow, though, it only served to stimulate him
more.

“Yes, mistress.”

She tapped the flogger lightly against his
buttocks. “What is your safe word?”

“Diamond.”

“Do you want me to flog you with this?” She
pressed it into the small of his back.

Yes!
“Yes, mistress.”

“Are you sure, pet?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Place one hand over your genitals.”

“Yes, mistress.”

She started whisper-lightly at first. It was
like a lover’s caress. Pleasant, really. Mostly slashing over his
bare bum, but sometimes on his back as well. The swats slowly
increased in tempo and in strength, until he could hear the popping
sound of the whip hitting bare skin. He started to hum and moan low
in his throat with each new pass. Without conscious thought, he
stroked himself to the increasing beat of her flogs. He was near to
orgasm, it was just over the next horizon, when she suddenly
stopped, stepped back.

“Take your hand away. If you have an orgasm
now, I’ll never play this game with you again.”

He dropped his hand to his thigh and dug his
fingers into it, nearly twisting the skin off the limb. This was
agony. More painful than the broken arm and trashed ligaments he’d
gotten skiing when he was fourteen. When he thought his vocal
chords would work again, he wheezed, “Diamond.”

* * *

“How does that feel?” Delilah asked, running
the cool, damp cloth over Chas’s sizzling skin.

“Good, mistress.”

His breathing had returned to normal sometime
in the last minute or so, and his eyes had lost that feral, dazed
sheen. It was time to implement the next scene.

Sometime during the previous interlude, she’d
come up with a plan: She’d keep the play-act going even through her
own initiation. That way, she could just demand that her submissive
make love to her as if she were a virgin and she wouldn’t have to
pretend to know what she was doing. Plus, if all went well, she’d
never have to admit that she hadn’t done it before, that no one had
ever even wanted to do it with her before—not as Delilah, at least.
They sure the hell did when she was Mistress Domnonea, though.
Another good reason to stay in character: it made her feel more
desirable, more in control. Yes, the plan was brilliant.

She turned around and showed him her back.
“Unlace me.”

She heard his breath increase, grow harsh.
“Yes mistress.”

* * *

What game was she playing now?
Chas
fumbled a little with the ties to her tight latex dress. His palms
were clammy and his fingers trembled, mostly from unspent desire at
this point than from dread. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted a
woman as much as he wanted this one. And he knew, he
knew
,
that if she let him, he was past the point of honoring his own vow
to be noble toward her. He was going to take her as many ways, and
as often, as she would let him. And if she ever found out the truth
about his nefarious motives for asking her to marry him, and hated
him for taking advantage of her feelings for him on such an
intimate, personal level—well, he guessed he’d worry about that
then.

It took herculean effort, but he managed to
get the dress loose enough to slide off her shoulders. She was
wholly naked underneath, as he knew she would be—how else had he
been able to see her bare ass crack through the two-inch divide
that the crisscrossed ties revealed?

As he pushed the heavy dress off her hips,
his heart tripped into double-time. There, on the place where her
back ended and the curve of her creamy white bottom began was a
tattoo. A tattoo of a diamond entwined by a perfect, red rose,
balancing a reclining fairy on its petals. And underneath it read:
Domnonea. He wondered what it meant. But when she wriggled her hips
and the dress dropped to the floor, his thoughts wrenched back to
the promise of unbridled pleasure at hand.

Before he could turn her to face him, she
said,  “Go lie on the bed, pet.”

He grinned. “Yes, mistress.” He lay down,
tucking his arms behind his head and crossing one foot over the
other. He wondered why she suddenly seemed awkward, shy even. Why
she’d covered those bountiful breasts of hers with her arms. He
gave a mental shrug. He was more than willing to let things play
out however she wanted.

* * *

Delilah couldn’t help ogling. Lord, he was
such a man! Tall, blond, muscular—but not overly so—tanned skin,
perfectly formed physique. Even his hands and feet were
attractive—not a lot of men’s were, she’d come to find out in her
recent endeavors. And by the size and mass of his erection, he was
clearly on fire for her. This was a dream come true, and she wasn’t
about to waste it with her own insecurity and timidity.

She forced her arms down to her sides,
plastered a sultry smile on her face, and swayed over to the side
of the bed where she promptly sat and unzipped her boots. After
tossing them several feet away, she settled on her side facing her
lover. Her heart, pounding in her ears, made her voice sound miles
away when she said, “First of all, I’m on the pill and I know we’re
both clean, so no worries there. Secondly, here’s how it’s going to
play out: You told me earlier that you wanted to touch me, devour
me, and fuck me. I’m giving you permission to do all of those
things. However, tonight I’m in the mood for an extra level of
excitement. Tonight, you will treat me as if I were a virgin,
untried, and you are the much experienced seducer. Can you do that,
pet?”

* * *

His cock stiffened painfully. It was an
interesting, highly erotic fantasy, considering what a dirty little
girl she’d been earlier. His grin broadened. “Yes, mistress.”

She rolled to her back with her hands next to
her head, her eyes closed. “Do with me what you will.”

The first thing he did was get his fill of
the sight of her. He wanted desperately to touch her, but forced
himself to go slow. Her skin was creamy white all over. It looked
soft, smooth. No tan line anywhere. He liked that. It was as if she
were the human form of an intricately hewn Greek statue.
Perfect.

Her breasts were round and full, their
dusky-rose aureoles large, their nipples puckered and
succulent.

She was long-wasted, but not skinny. Not
plump either. Curvy. Just right, as far as he could see. Her belly
was not completely flat, but softly curved just above her
black-as-pitch pubic hair. Thankfully, she hadn’t shaved it. He was
sure he was one of the few men in America that found a shaved pussy
to be a major turn-off.  

He was just getting to her lovely limbs when
he heard her say, “Aren’t you going to touch me?”

His gaze tripped up to her face. She peeked
at him through one lifted eyelid. “Oh, yes. I’m definitely going to
touch you. Soon. I’m just taking a little time to admire you
first.”

Her cheeks flushed. Had he embarrassed her?
Oh, wait. Virgin. Got it.

Hmm. He’d slept with a couple of virgins
before—a long time ago, in college. It hadn’t been very good, as he
recalled. Neither for the girl or for him. ’Course, he’d been a
pretty randy, rotten lover back then, too. He’d learned a lot about
giving his partner pleasure since then. This actually might be even
more fun than he’d originally thought.

Okay, first things first.

He rolled over and nudged up against her,
settling one leg over her thighs and splaying his hands through the
hair above her ear. Her eyes, wide open now, gazed into his with
the same look of desire he was sure his held for her. For the first
time, he noticed the gold specks in the electric-blue depths of
them. His lips were a hair’s breadth from her own. She smelled of
flowers, a far cry from the spicy, earthy scent he’d expected. It
reminded him again that this was Delilah, his friend, not some
dragon-lady pro-domme, as she’d been playing. A wave of guilt hit
him head-on, but then her hand was on his cock, stroking,
smoothing, gripping—gripping him again in her sexual web of desire
and he was lost. He kissed her. No soft prelude, as he’d intended
before, but a full-on, open-mouthed, tongue-thrusting kiss that
sent shock waves of pleasure all the way down to his toe-nails.
When she began to squirm beneath him, when her nipples grazed his
chest, he transferred his attention to her earlobe, then her neck,
her collarbone and finally her breast. “Mmm.” There was a hint of
strawberry flavor on her nipple. Before he realized his intent, he
gorged himself on it, sucking it so deeply into his mouth that she
cried out, pressing his head more firmly against it as she arched
against him.

His hands had a mind of their own, running
rampant over her body, through the silky curls of her pubic hair,
caressing her thighs and pressing them apart to delve into the
soft, humid, hot core of her.