Chapter 21
Jamie
I get off work a few hours later. As I’m contemplating scrubbing off Raj’s lovely handiwork, I check my phone for an update from Christian, but he still hasn’t got back to me yet about Mom.
Colour me shocked when I see more than one message from Arnie.
My heart picks up as I open them, worried it’s a list of all the stuff he wants me to take when I leave his home for good.
My mind races when I see he isn’t asking me to leave but inviting me in. He’s letting me experience the attic. The playroom. His playroom. My excitement overshadows all the negative thoughts and energy that had been clinging to me throughout the rest of my shift.
My dance wasn’t in vain. Arnie wants me.
The way I want him. I try not to picture us together, night after night, limbs tangled as we wake naked from another night of passion.
My milky, smooth skin contrasted with his hairy, inked body.
I blush as I re-read the messages. What will his plan be for me?
Maybe another spanking? I wouldn’t say no, but I worry that the first one was only enjoyable because it was surprising and taboo to be taught a lesson like that.
I rush to shower and change, waving goodbye to the guys in the changing room, promising to keep them updated on how my night ends up now that they are all invested in our relationship.
Although I’m not sure whether it is a relationship, given that we sleep separately, kissed once, and I’ve never even seen him naked.
I throw those thoughts out for more sexy ones as I race to get back to Arnie.
Home finally, I slip in through the front door with the key Arnie had made for me and make my way to my bathroom.
I put on the underwear Arnie laid out and groom the way he left instructions for.
My hands tremble as I fix my curls. My heart beats a mile a minute at getting another session with Dom Arnie.
Taking the steps two at a time, I knock before entering the attic.
***
Being strapped down isn’t what I thought it would be like.
Buckled in a kneeling position on a leather, padded bench has me harder than I’ve ever been.
I’m positioned right in the middle of Arnie’s attic room.
The moonlight cascading through the large half-circle window adds to the ambience of the dimly lit sex room that we are occupying.
Arnie promised to take care of me, and in doing so, I now find myself in need of release, sooner rather than later.
“Shh,” Arnie tells me again as I whimper around the rubber bridle that he has placed in my mouth. I’m buckled in so well that I can’t even thrust my leaking cock against the bench.
He continues to trail his hand up and down my naked back as I squirm under his scrutiny. “Jamie, I want to speak with you now that you are... in a more comfortable position.” His eyes sparkle as I look up at him from under my lashes.
“Communication is key in this dynamic, and I want you to please just listen and not interrupt as I tell you some...things about me. Shake your head back and forth four times if you want to stop. Nod once for yes, or I understand, okay?”
I nod my head, eager to know more about him and where this is going. Silence permeates the room. Is he nervous? It seems silly, considering he was the most confident man I had ever met. Especially when it came to sex.
“I am what some call a sadomasochist. That means that not only do I like to administer pain, but I also gain pleasure from it. I am not into knife play or needle play, but I do often need pain to gain sexual gratification. But now, with you, blondie, I find myself needing release just from being near you, talking to me, dancing for me. I don’t know what that means, but I need you to understand that if we take this dynamic away from the agreement originally set out as me tutoring you plus being a Dom for you until you got your act together, then you need to know the real me.
The one that no one else I’ve tutored gets to see. ”
I noticed he called me blondie in his text. But hearing him use that new nickname whilst divulging his secrets makes me shudder with more than just lust. Fuck, I think I’m falling for him.
I nod my understanding as he watches me; worry covers his face even though he’s trying to hide it.
When he says I’m the first to change this dynamic with him, I believe him.
I want to please him and be good. Let him hurt me when he needs to.
Hurt him back if that’s what he wants, but right now, I would beg just to have him suck my dick.
“We can write up a new set of rules together if you like. I can give you a couple of days to think about it too, but blondie, right now, I want to watch you cry while I take what I want from you. Can you be good and give me your tears?”
I nearly come from his words. This, whatever it’s called that he proclaimed to be, I think I might be too. I want what he’s offering, and I will research it and take time to think about my own wants and needs, but right now, I need him in any way I can get him.
I nod again, but this time he takes the bridle from my mouth.
Drool drips past my chin to the floor, and my jaw aches slightly as I look up at him.
He lowers to his knees, falling right into my sightline, and then we are kissing.
It’s deep and erotic; he kisses me like I hold all the oxygen in the world.
I lick into his mouth, trying to lick every inch as he sucks on my tongue, groaning at our sloppy, wet need for each other.
Then it’s over, and he is behind me. I hear his belt buckle, then his pants hitting the floor. I watch his bare feet as he comes back to the front of me and asks if I want my mouth stuffed or if he’s allowed to hear my sweet screams. I nod to the latter, too afraid to speak.
His hand lingers on my cheek, and I can smell his musky arousal right in front of me. I try to lift my head to see him fully, but he’s gone, taking position behind me.
“I’ll use my hand first, blondie, then if it’s okay, I’ll paddle you too,” he promises between heavy breaths.
“Yes... Sir,” I croak.
There’s a gasp from behind me. Silence then envelopes the room, but before I can ask if that was the wrong thing to say, he hits me hard. With nowhere to go, my back tries to arch, but it’s useless. White-hot heat sears through my skin as he continues, his hand never stopping.
I don’t tell him to stop; I don’t say anything. I let him hear my screams, my whimpers, then my crying when the tears finally roll down my cheeks and hit the white carpet.
At that point, he checks in with me, rubbing my sore cheeks, praising me with kindness.
He opens a large curio cabinet to one side of me.
I can only just see out of the side of my eye as he selects something.
I see skin, black lines, a dusting of light-brown hair, then he turns his attention back to me and out of sight.
“You okay, blondie?” he murmurs into my back as he places small kisses there. I fall further into the space where thoughts cease to form, and my body feels like jelly.
The paddle is nothing like this hand. I love it. I feel as if I’ve come home.
How can I feel like that when Jed inflicted so much pain on me? How can I feel this euphoric when he made me feel like nothing but a squashed bug under his boot?
When Arnie makes contact with my skin again and again, I bask in the pain, the heat leftover, and the ache that stays.
Time passes, but it doesn’t interest me. I want to stay here with Arnie forever. Take what he gives me and say thank you.
The bruises will be awful tomorrow, and a thrill surges through me at the thought of the purples, blacks, and blues that will cover me.
That tips me over the cliff’s edge. I can feel my come spout over my stomach and onto the expensive leather I’m strapped to.
“Arnie!” I call, unable to stop myself letting go and taking my pleasure in telling him beforehand.
He doesn’t seem to care though, as he stops his onslaught of blows, unbuckles me before rolling me over onto the floor, his entire mouth engulfing me. He sucks, licks and cleans me until I’m so sensitive that I beg for him to kiss me instead.
Crawling over me with his hot chest heavy on top of mine, we kiss, long and sensual.
Eventually, he helps me up and places me on the gigantic bed in the room's corner, underneath the moonlight. He leaves, but not for long. Coming back to clean me, then the bench before rolling me onto my stomach to rub arnica gel into my sore backside. I send a silent thanks to Beau, who hasn’t scheduled me any shifts for the next few days.
I curl up on the bed, smelling the freshness of the bright white sheets and the distinct lack of Arnie’s scent on them.
Eventually, he comes back and kisses my forehead, praising me on how well I’ve done. Thanking me for listening to him and telling me to sleep. I try to argue; I try to ask if he’ll stay with me, but darkness takes over, and I’m asleep in seconds.