It’s maybe not a good sign that her teasing makes my dick hard as a rock. Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to push her right up against the display and spank her ass in front of God and everybody. The very idea makes my hand tingle. I can almost taste the surge of adrenaline I get when I punish her ass, can almost see the red marks from my hand, feel her writhing beneath me.
She’s addictive.
And fuck if she doesn’t need this as much as I do.
Marla grins as we leave. I guide her to my right, my left side facing the street, before I grab her hand and lead her toward Verge.
“Pushin’ your luck in there, woman.”
“No, sir,” she contradicts. “Pushing my dom.”
Her dom.
“I don’t like game playing,” I bluff, feeling as if I need to keep a firm footing on some kind of control. She’s beginning to make me unravel. “There are better ways of getting your ass spanked, you know,” I say.
“Sure,” she says, “like saying, ‘Spank my ass,’ in the middle of a bookstore. Yes, I’d be game for that. Or, say, pulling my skirt up and laying over your lap. Perhaps texting you a ‘spank me’ meme?”
A gray-haired woman with wide, round spectacles stares as she walks past us, her mouth dropping open. Just to give her something to talk about, I take Diana by the elbow and give her a teasing smack, which makes several passers-by snicker and the lady furrow her brow, literally picking up her skirts and scurrying past us with a disapproving glare. Diana sticks her tongue out at the retreating woman. She’s adorable, but I make a clucking sound. “Alright, behave yourself, now,” I order.
I can tell just by looking at her that she needs to know she can push me and that when she does, I won’t crumple. I know the look by now. Submissive women who crave dominance need this from time to time, and Diana’s no exception. I’ve likened it to a blind man finding his way in an unfamiliar room; once he knows where the walls are, his boundaries, he can move more freely.
Though she doesn’t say a word, I give her a sober look as I unlock the door to Verge. “You know, I’ve been doing this a while now. I know that look in your eyes.”
“Look? What look?” she responds, barely keeping the bite out of her tone.
“That spank me, please,” look. I pull her into the empty hallway and shut the door behind her. “The look that says, dominate me.”
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean—don’t you—”
“Diana,” I say evenly, holding her by the elbow and marching her down the hall, past my office, past the vacant lobby, and into the bar area. “You’re an honest woman. Don’t compound things by letting that slide just because you’re embarrassed. You can get a lot of things just by asking. But sometimes? You don’t know what it is you want, or need, especially when you’re new to this. Lucky for you, or unlucky for you, however you wanna see it, I’m not new.” We reach the dungeon that looks cavernous with no one else here. I release her elbow and point to the padded spanking bench in the center of the room.
“Lie over the table. Lose the leggings. And if at any point you want to stop, you say pink flamingo.”
“What?” She suddenly has the classic deer-in-the-headlights look. But we don’t have time to argue.
“That’s your safeword,” I say, my eyes meeting hers as I reach for the buckle of my belt. Her eyes go wide as I unfasten the belt and tug the leather through the loops, anticipation weaving its way through me, the sweet taste of domination at hand. “What are you doing?” she whispers, now beginning to really look afraid. “Tobias…”
Doubling the belt over and pointing to the table, I repeat the safeword. “Pink flamingo.”