Chapter 36 Restraint #2
Her eyes sharpen and her teeth dig into her bottom lip when I tear off my undershirt.
I don’t need words to feel her praise and appreciation—her energy flows into my veins like an IV drip.
I skim one hand from my neck, down my stomach, and it slips under my belt for a quick grip before straddling her.
I hold on to her bare shoulders, only thin leathers strap under each palm.
I look down at myself, and on my way to her eyes, I take a brief and totally necessary pit stop at her tits that overflow from the floral leather cutouts of her Dommy Mommy armor.
I can’t help whimpering at the thought of burying my face in her chest.
I slide my hands down her soft arms and move her hands to my belt. She knows what I want in no uncertain terms. Renée doesn’t even watch herself unfasten me—she chooses instead to bore her soul into mine. My heart punches through my chest and sweat starts to form.
Suddenly she blinks and looks down at her hands. “You weren’t wearing any underwear?”
Heat rises in my face. “I want you to have easy access.”
She laughs, but I can’t hear it over the music.
“So thoughtful.” She glides her hand along my shaft and strokes.
“So eager.” The next steps of my choreography are forgotten as my eyes roll to the back of my head and I moan.
Another hand slips to my ass and I’m pulled against her body as she massages my aching cock.
I groan, very nearly about to nut.
She laughs like a villain. “Already about to blow, puppy?” But she doesn’t stop—enjoying every second of my torture as much as I am. “I love how pathetic you are.”
“Mhmm,” I whine. I’m humiliated in the best way, and the coil of pleasure winding in my lower body is about to release.
“Don’t you dare.”
But does she stop? No!
“RenéeI’mgonnacome,” I warn, then instantly gasp for air as she death grips the base of my shaft.
“Ahhh! Ohhhffffffuuuuuuck!” I shudder above her as the weirdest climax-but-not-a-climax screams through me.
My body jerks the way it would from any intense release, but gone—gone—is the blissful sensation of cum shooting through my urethra.
OhmygodI’mgonnadie.
I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!
“I told you not to come,” she says evenly, all poise and control.
I fall from my ruined climax, completely sexually frustrated, but thankful she’s let me live—for now. “What the fuck just happened?” I ask, panting like the puppy I very clearly am.
She’s not looking at me, though—she’s watching, waiting, feeling my shaft soften as the song I chose for her is allowed to finish.
So unfair.
“I taught you a lesson, Jonah. From now on, you don’t come unless I give you permission.”
“But... but what if I’m alone and I miss you?”
“Then you call your Domme and you beg her so sweetly. And only then will I allow it—maybe.” She finally tilts her chin up and the intention in her eyes makes me feel like her bad, bad student who didn’t do his assignment—so the ultimate fantasy feeling.
“But you’re not leaving my sight for another two days,” she purrs. “And I have many, many plans for my good boy.”
Her death grip eases from my soft cock and I gasp once again. The warm ejaculate that should have shot out of me like a canon now dribbles from the slit—slow and embarrassing. She collects it in her palm and pushes me with the other hand.
“Sit.”
I don’t know if she means on the couch or the ground, but I choose the more degrading option. Shins flat and my hands planted on the floor, I wait for her next instruction. She doesn’t give one with words, however. Palm full of my cum, she extends her hand. “Does my puppy want a treat?”
I don’t think twice—hell, I don’t even think once—before I’m licking the sticky white puddle out of her hand.
It’s not the first time I’ve tasted my own semen—I got curious, sue me—but it is the first time I’ve had this much.
It’s not the most pleasant flavor, but I tongue every last drop—the pleasure I receive from her appreciation is the real treat.
“Very good,” she praises, and arches an eyebrow. “Now move back.” I obey and she stands, straightens her short leather dress, and turns away. “Crawl to the bedroom, Jonah.”
Okay!
She walks in front of me and without turning around says, “Don’t look at my ass.”
I turn my head down immediately. “Sorry, Professor.”
I don’t know what she did with the dogs, but they’re not in the hallway when I crawl through.
Once I cross into the bedroom, I sit on my heels and wait with my head down—and it feels so right.
When we fooled around outside, I wondered how depraved I was allowed to be with her.
Now I’m wondering if there’s anything—anything at all—she’d turn her nose up at. She’s incredible.
“Take off your pants and lay in the center of my bed.”
“Of course,” I reply, rushing to obey.
I lay back on my duvet. I hope I don’t ruin it...
Smiling, she lowers to the bed and sits on her heels next to me. I lick my lips when her thick thighs spill wide. “I’d like to explore you,” she says, and traces a finger up my hip bone. “Is that okay?”
“Absolutely. Have your way with me.”
“I think it’s time we establish a safe word, Jonah. Do you have one?”
My pulse picks up. “Um, no. This is all pretty new to me.”
She continues delicately tracing through my abdominals—her simple touch making my heart expand—and a grin spreads across her face. “I know. It pleases me to teach you once again.”
That nearly steals the breath from my lungs. I brush back my hair and groan, “Do you have any idea how often I pictured us like this?” She smiles. “Like from the second I walked in your classroom for the first time.”
“Not that long ago, really. And I have a lot more experience than you baby, so I need you to pay attention. What we just did, and what we’re about to do, are scenes. My role as a Dominant is to guide you, take from you, but I will always give you exactly what you need.”
“And I’m your... submissive,” I say, not really a question.
Her eyes twinkle. “That’s right. And a very good one at that. You just need a bit of training. But right now, we’re not in a scene. It’s just me you—Renée and Jonah—and we’re going to discuss some things.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll have you fill out a form later to better understand your limits, kinks, and any fetishes you might have, but for now, we’re just talking.” I nod. “My safe word is cranberry. You should pick one that you’ll remember and is weird enough that you’ll never accidentally say it.”
I chew on my inner lip for a second. “How about clover?”
She giggles. “Perfect. You’re going to need all the luck you can get.”
Uh-oh.
“So what do you like?” she asks.
I think for a moment, because I’m sure she won’t appreciate it if I say whatever you like. If I learned anything from her failing me for plagiarizing as her student, I know she likes when I think for myself.
“I like the way I feel when I please you.”
She nods like she already knew that. “You like praise.”
“It’s more than that. Just making you smile or come...” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, imagining that exact smile. “That turns me on so much.”
“What else?”
“I like being told what to do. I really liked dancing for you, and I like it when you use me like an object.” I chuckle. “You look like you already know this about me.”
She bobs her head in confirmation. “I suspected a while ago that you were a service sub.”
“When? When I kissed your feet after the bluegrass festival?”
She shakes her head. “That day you helped me plant seeds in the garden.”
I gape at her. “You knew then?”
“Like I said, I have more experience than you,” she laughs, and the sound is sweeter than honey. “I’m also a trained Dominant and it’s very easy for me to spot submissives.”
“What’s a service sub exactly?”
And because she’s Renée, my extraordinary professor girlfriend, she doesn’t scoff or make me feel dumb for asking.
“A service sub is someone who finds fulfillment in acts of service for their dominant partner. Those acts can look like a lot of things, both sexual and nonsexual. Often, this kind of submissive derives a lot of pleasure from focusing on their partner.”
Well she’s got me pegged.
I place a hand on her wide thigh. “You’re my favorite thing to focus on, Renée.”
“I can believe that,” she hums.
Something she said flies back into my consciousness. “Wait. What do you mean you’re a trained Dominant?”
“So, when Amber came back into my life, she opened me up to the lifestyle. I was educated and trained by other experienced Dominants and submissives. I’d go to these parties once a month and... let it all out,” she shrugs.
“Do you still?”
Her face softens and she cups my cheek. “Last time I went was before we started anything. Before the festival. Before we kissed in your living room the night you helped me face my fears.”
My heart swells with the enormous emotion we haven’t admitted yet and I kiss her hand.
“Even that last party I went to... nothing happened. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t want anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.” Before she says another word, I’m pulling her into a kiss.
Several minutes later, when I’ve thoroughly expressed my appreciation and devotion in makeout form, she brings me back to our discussion. Once we're both more familiar with each other’s sexual appetites, she slips back into the Dommy Mommy Professor and I’m so ready to be her good little student.
She straddles my lap, and my cock is already hard from our discussion.
“As punishment for failing your test today, Mr. Johanssen...” she starts, and I mentally squeal, “You’re going to lay here while I inspect every rippling muscle, every strand of hair, every crevice—and you’re not going to touch me.
I might do this for five minutes. I might do this for the rest of our weekend. ”
Wait, what?