“Well,” said Alex, his surprised expression melting into a somewhat predatory one, “I don’t have to be asked twice.”
With that, he hoisted Mia into a fireman’s lift and strode to her bedroom. Pulling the door closed behind them, he deposited her unceremoniously onto the bed and uttered a single word that made a gush of cream soak the offending hotpants.
“Toys?” It was a question and a command at the same time.
Mia felt a delicious heat curl throughout her entire body at Alex’s tone. He’d slipped into the role so effortlessly that it was clear to Mia that he was experienced at this. Much more so than she was, Mia suspected. She’d never played with an actual Dom before. Sure she’d been tied up and spanked, but it had all been just play and experimentation with previous partners. Nobody had ever given her a really good, hard spanking. They’d always been too frightened of hurting her. And Mia had never been able to say that she wanted it harder, much harder.
She yearned for it. To be spanked so hard that she cried and came at the same time. But she’d never felt able to express that need before. Until Alex. She’d obviously never been in the presence of a true dominant before. And now she was, she intended to take full advantage. Whether it would go any further than one night, Mia had no idea. But even one night was better than none, and it would at least satisfy the craving that had been building up inside her for so long, threatening to drive her crazy.
Yes, Mia thought, a temporary respite is definitely better than none.
“Under the bed,” she said. Then, without thinking, she added, “Sir.”
Alex had bent to reach under her bed, and he paused momentarily at the word “Sir.” Then, a devious expression appeared on his face and he continued in his quest to retrieve her toy box. Somehow, Mia knew there was no going back now. It was Game On.
What’s more, she didn’t care. She’d never been so ready to play.
Alex swiftly brought the large black box out from its hiding place and lifted it onto the bed. Flipping open the lid, he examined the contents. Mia saw a glint in his eye - he was obviously pleased. She sat still and silent, watching and awaiting his instructions.
Presently, Alex reached into the box and pulled out a black leather paddle, adorned with metal studs. Mia’s pussy clenched with anticipation. Holding the handle in one hand, Alex held out the other and applied a swift blow to the palm. A loud crack rang out, and Mia watched as a smug grin spread across Alex’s face. He’d chosen his weapon. With a flick of his wrist, Alex whacked his palm again.
“I like it,” he said, his grin widening. “It delivers a good hard blow for the minimum of effort. And I will make the effort.”
The obvious ramifications of this remained unspoken. Then, before Mia could give it too much thought, Alex moved around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, his feet still touching the floor. His next words made Mia’s stomach lurch.
“Come here.” His position made it clear which one he expected Mia to adopt. Quickly, eagerly, she scrambled off the bed and then closed the space between her and Alex. Then she draped herself over his lap and waited.
She thought about the view Alex had - her ass high, ready, and covered with those provocative words. That blatant invitation. SPANK ME. Mia could hardly believe that the hotpants she’d grabbed out of her drawer and pulled on for bed without a second thought had resulted in this.
Seconds later, all thoughts were driven out of her head except for one - ouch. Without warning, Alex had begun his assault on her ass. She’d been expecting him to pull the hotpants down, so the blow had caught her completely unawares. The noise fell from her lips before she could stop it.
“Owwww!” She managed to stop herself from moving a hand up to cover herself. Somehow, she knew just making the noise had already made things worse. She tensed, awaiting her punishment.
“Oh, Mia.” Alex said in a bored voice. “You’re not a moaner, are you? I can’t abide with moaners.”
He paused. “Okay,” he continued, “I’m feeling generous, so you get that one for free. But from now on I expect you to take everything I give with the minimum of fuss. All right?”
Mia nodded frantically. After all, she’d wanted this. She did want this. Even if her brain hadn’t quite caught up, her body was certainly making its feelings known. With just one smack her nipples were rock hard and straining against her top, and her clit throbbed.
And that was just the warm up.
“Sorry, what did you say, Mia? I didn’t hear you.”
Shit. She wasn’t doing very well here. She needed to shape up or she’d be in serious trouble. Opening her mouth she practically gasped, “Minimum of fuss. Yes, Sir.”
“Very good, Mia. Now, before I proceed, I’d like to know your safe word. I don’t expect you’ll want to use it, but I am nothing if not thorough.”
A shiver ran down Mia’s spine at his words. Thorough. He was going to be thorough. Her pussy squeezed at nothing and Mia closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.
“Mango, Sir. My safe word is mango.”
“Very well. Thank you, Mia.”
With that, Alex began his thorough campaign. Mia felt him move and squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, anticipating the first blow. It came immediately, followed by another, and another. Alex was clearly the master of the paddle because he kept the spanks coming in rapid succession, yet he never hit the same place twice in a row.
As Mia had expected, Alex spanked her much harder than anyone had ever done before. Soon, her bottom and the backs of her thighs felt like one big hot glowing... thing. Mia couldn’t work out exactly what it felt like. Except for fucking good. Alex brought the metal studded paddle down again and again on each millimetre of her ass and thighs. Then when he was done, he started again. He was doing it much harder now, having worked out that Mia wasn’t as delicate as she looked.
Before long, Mia couldn’t think of anything except how she felt. The pain had long ago morphed into pure pleasure, and she was sure her pussy was so slick and open that even her thickest dildo would slide right in without any resistance. Her clit felt like an over-inflated balloon, like the merest touch would make it burst. She wanted to burst. Oh God, did she want to burst.
She wriggled slightly on Alex’s lap, hoping that she could get some friction from somewhere, anywhere. Just enough to tip her over the edge and give her the orgasm she was so desperate for.
Alex froze. Fuck. She’d been rumbled.
“What are you doing, Mia?” he said coldly.
There was no point in lying. He’d know. “I’m s-sorry, Sir. It’s just that - ” she tailed off, unsure now what exactly it was that she wanted. Did she just want to come, or did she want more than that? Did she want Alex to fuck her? Did he want to fuck her? She’d been so lost in her own pleasure that she hadn’t noticed if he had an erection or not. A twitch beneath her hip indicated that the answer to that question was a definite yes.
“Just what, Mia?”
“I’m just so horny, Sir. I’m desperate to come.” She cringed. What would he do next? Would he make her take more strikes for being so bold? Or would he leave her high and dry? She had no idea how these things worked. Did doms and subs always fuck? Or did some of them just give and receive pain? Mia had no idea. The only thing she knew for sure is that by the time the evening was out she would have to come, one way or another. She was almost dizzy with desperation. Or that could have just been the blood rushing to her head as she dangled over Alex’s lap.
“Well,” said Alex, “you’re in luck.” Pushing Mia unceremoniously off his lap, he waited until she picked herself up off the carpet, and tossed the leather paddle behind him. She’d barely scrambled to her feet when he continued. “Luckily for you, I’m desperate to come, too. Get those off.”
He indicated her clothes. She immediately undr
essed. Alex stood up and did the same. As he’d only been lounging around on the sofa, he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He pulled them off to reveal a tight pair of grey boxer shorts, which were straining against his erection. They also did nothing to hide the wet patch of pre-come, the sign that he’d was every bit as aroused by what they’d been doing as she was. She squeezed her thighs together, enjoying the slight relief it gave her and hoping against hope that she’d get full relief, and soon.
Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, Alex pulled the boxers down and dropped them to the floor. Mia risked a glance at his cock, hoping his male pride would allow her to look without getting into too much trouble. It did. Alex’s cock was delicious. Long and thick with a slight curve, it jutted proudly up towards his belly button.
Clearly deciding she’d had enough time to look, Alex moved onto the bed properly, positioning himself in the middle, with his head on the pillows. Then he issued his next order. “Condom.”
Rushing to the other side of the bed, Mia quickly opened her bedside drawer and retrieved the contraception, holding it out to him.
“No. You do it.”
With slightly trembling hands, Mia tore open the packet and dropped it on the floor. Then she clambered onto the bed and positioned herself between Alex’s thighs. Grasping his hard, hot cock, she placed the condom on its tip then rolled it down, coating the thick shaft in latex. Then she waited. But not for long.
“Hop on, Mia. Sink that hot pussy down on my cock and ride me.”
As she willingly obliged, her nether lips parting around his meaty bell-end, Alex spoke again. “You get this one for free, baby. But only because I’m so desperate to fuck. Next time you’re going to have to work much harder for it. Much harder.”
As his words sunk into her brain, and his cock sunk into her cunt, Mia smiled. As much as she was about to enjoy her freebie, she knew it would be so much better when she’d earned it. Really earned it.
Alex really was the perfect Dom. He knew exactly what she needed, and how to give it. More so than she did, apparently.
Thank fuck for those stupid hotpants.
Meet Me at the Spanish Steps
Meet me at the Spanish Steps, the text said. It also specified a day and time. The following day, at 1pm.
A few seconds later, my phone bleeped again.
I’ll text you in the morning and let you know what I’m wearing. Will you do the same?
I replied in the affirmative. Although I knew what he looked like, us knowing what each other was wearing would help us to find each other in the no-doubt huge crowds surrounding the famous tourist attraction. I was glad, because there was no way I wanted to miss out on meeting up with him. My sanity - and libido - were riding on it.
Since I’d been working on the campsite on the outskirts of Rome, I’d been doing my best to learn Italian, and I was improving rapidly. But it would be some time before I progressed to learning the words and phrases necessary for getting what I wanted in the bedroom. As a result, my kinky cravings went unfulfilled, and although I was having the odd fuck here and there with other staff on the site and the occasional Italian, I was desperate to have sex the way I really wanted it. Needed it. I couldn’t ask the English-speaking staff that I went to bed with, because I still had to face them day after day. And with six months left on my contract, the last thing I needed were rumours going around about my unusual sexual appetite.
Which is why I’d turned to the Internet. I found William through a website for Brits living abroad, and from the very beginning I’d been clear that I was looking for sex, rather than love, and that I had particular tastes that I wanted him to cater to. He was more than willing to scratch those specific itches and we went from exchanging emails to text messages, to eventually arranging to meet.
The following morning, I dressed with care, and paid special attention to my hair and makeup. The funny part was, I was paying attention to make sure my clothes were quick to remove, my hair was easily tidied if it got messed up, and that my makeup wouldn’t smudge. After ensuring my bag contained the all-important condoms, tissues and pepper spray - a girl can never be too careful - I hit the road.
By the time I emerged from Spagna Metro station, I ready and raring to go. I was a little nervous, but that was more down to the risk that despite all his assurances, William wouldn’t be able to give me what I so desperately needed. I really didn’t want to be left high and dry. I buried my misgivings deep inside my subconscious and mentally kept my fingers crossed that they wouldn’t come to fruition. Then, after taking a quick peek in the pocket-sized mirror I always carried, I walked along the narrow alley leading from the Metro station out to the Piazza at the bottom of the Spanish Steps.
I was quickly enveloped by the crowds, and I started to worry that in spite of William and I sharing details of our attire, that we wouldn’t find one another. A little while later, I realised my worries had been unfounded. I spotted him leaning against the wall of Babington’s Tea Room, wearing exactly what he’d said he would, and a huge smile besides. Grinning back, I shoved my way past meandering tourists and finally reached him.
“Hi Darby,” he said, stepping forward to shake my hand - very British - then releasing it after the prerequisite amount of time.
“Hi,” I responded, trying to subtly check him out. We’d exchanged photos, but they never really did a person justice, and nor did they really give a clue as to whether you’ll fancy someone or not. And, desperate as I was to drag a fellow English speaker to bed and make my erotic demands, there was no way that was going to happen if I wasn’t actually attracted to him. I wasn’t that desperate.
He held out his arm, and I took it, as he told me, “I thought we’d go into Babington’s, if that’s all right with you. Do you know the history of the place?”
I nodded. I was somewhat of a history buff, therefore I was well aware of the fact that the tea rooms had been founded by two British ladies, one of whom was from my home county, Derbyshire. I appreciated his attention to detail, though, and considered this a point in his favour.
A little while later, we were enjoying a delicious cream tea and the conversation was coming along well. William was witty and intelligent as well as attractive, and it was soon obvious to me that there was a spark between us. Once I realised it, I was suddenly desperate to get out of there and go somewhere more private.
“Well,” I said, draining my dainty tea cup and putting it carefully back on its saucer, “that was delicious. It’s been wonderful to have a taste of English after a few months out here.”
William raised an eyebrow. I met his gaze boldly, and moved my arms so they squeezed my ample breasts together, creating a very impressive cleavage in my low cut top.
He coughed. “Well, Darby, I have to say I’m inclined to agree.” Looking around us, evidently to see if anyone was in earshot, he leaned towards me and continued, “But I’d really like to have a real taste of English, if you’re so inclined.”
His gaze lingered on my tits, then slowly raked back up to my face. His eyes were full of mischief and intent. A rush of lust zipped to my pussy. I broke eye contact, only to hurriedly scramble inside my bag for my purse so I could pay the bill and get the hell out of there.
That was obviously all the answer William needed. He grasped my wrist, slightly harder than necessary - clearly hinting that he was capable of catering to my needs - and murmured, “Don’t worry about that. Go and wait outside while I pay. You’re looking a little hot.”
I gave him a mock scowl - he knew damn well why I was feeling hot - but did as he said. I had just a couple of minutes to people watch before he was at my side once more.
“Shall we?” he said, holding out his arm once more.
I took it. “Where are we going?”
He knew I lived and worked on the outskirts of the city, but I had no idea where he
lived. I hoped it was close. The anticipation of what we were about to do was making hormones pump through my body at a rapid pace, and as my clit swelled, every single step became torture and pleasure rolled into one.
“Not far,” he responded, leading me back towards the Metro station. Instead of walking down the long corridor to the platforms - which was lined with people selling fake designer goods, eager to catch tourists and commuters alike - he veered off to the right and into an area which held lifts and a staircase.
I frowned, wondering what was ‘up’ from here. It was a public access area, so it obviously didn’t lead to any private dwellings or premises. Seconds later, the lift pinged its arrival, and, always the gentleman, William indicated I should go ahead of him. As soon as the doors closed - mercifully we hadn’t been joined by anyone else - he was upon me.
His hands grabbed my hips and pushed me against the grubby, graffiti-covered metal wall of the lift. Pinning me there with his entire body - and I certainly didn’t miss the fact that there was an eager erection pressing into my stomach - he leaned down to kiss me. Only it wasn’t just any kiss. It was the kiss I’d been craving for months. It was rough, possessive, and so erotic that I was glad he was holding me up, otherwise my knees probably would have given out.
William’s agile tongue continued to plunder my mouth until the lift slowed to a stop. Instantly, he stepped away from me. As soon as the doors opened, he grabbed my hand and all but marched out, pulling me breathless and gaping behind him. I barely had time to register that we were now at the square at the top of the Spanish Steps before I was led quickly past the artists and flower sellers, then past the church and down the street opposite.
After a few twists and turns, I quickly lost my bearings, then began to wonder how far “not far” was. Before I had time to ask, we stopped in front of a non-descript looking building. William released my hand, dug in his pocket and produced some keys. He slotted the relevant one into the lock, and milliseconds later was ushering me into the gloomy hallway. He then made sure the outside door was properly closed before starting to climb the staircase in front of him.