The Dom`s Diary

  If you are anywhere in the Midwest during the summer, you know all about the steamy sultry weather.  Well that weather inspires our writers to create a little steam of their own.

We are excited to have Abyrne back with us to kick off the summer series - Steamheat! After debuting  chapters here last summer, his short story Swingers went on to become a top ten e-book on Amazon. Let's see what he'll bring us this year with The Dom's Diary...

The Dom's Diary

Part 1: SSNP ( same scene, new player)

 by

Abyrne Mostyn 

 

How do you get what you want when you don’t know what to ask for?

                For years I had poked around every new dungeon and sub-club that popped up around the city, the results were always the same.  This night was not different…too much cliché.  A buncha wannabes with silk ties and leather corsets looking for a ‘daddy’, surrounded by men toting too much testosterone and not enough control or common sense for any of them to be called a Gentleman, barking orders and berating the wannabes.  Good riddance.  Not all who call themselves ‘Dom’ understand the role, or that there is power involved and they might not be the ones who have it.

I was coming to the conclusion that what I sought could not be found.  Standing curbside, I saw her then; she too, was waiting.  Both of us, by the look on her face, were leaving the latest in a long line of let downs.  She had the same look of disgust and disappointment that I imagined I wore.  She however had something more…an air of calm and control.  It was foreign to see it, not because she was female, but because it felt more like looking into a mirror finding the things that wink back from your reflection that don’t feel like they are there before you catch a glimpse.  She was calm where I felt caged; controlled, where I needed an outlet to find it.  Chit-chatting about the latest hyped up playground we’d just left, her “Another bust…” had me laughing.  I couldn’t help but ask what she was hoping to find.

“Oh, someone…somewhere new…  A little D/s switching maybe.”

She had my attention. 

“Have you found it anywhere?  I’m afraid with what I’ve seen, you’ll not find it around here.”

Now I had her attention as she turned and I got a full frontal of the silhouette I had been watching.  Dark chocolate, hooded eyes in a heart-shaped face…bedroom eyes and a mouth made for sucking.  Full, natural lips without color or the garish add-ons so many were sporting these days and a long mane of rich mahogany that begged to wrap around my hand right there on the curb.  She was a thoroughbred with long defined muscles and yet just enough cushion to make her a wet dream walking.  My baser self stood at attention to shout their second to my mental motion.  She was distinct.  She was beautiful.  I might manage to switch for one such as her.

“Are you new to town?”

“No.”

“New to the scene?”

“No.”

“I haven’t seen you around before, where do you scene normally?”

“Mostly I don’t.  I’m afraid that playing dress up for some polite spanking, calling it domination doesn’t really work for me, so I enjoy my proclivities in private.”

Her car came just then.  I took the door from the valet and waited for her to process my answers to her questions and take control of her auto.  She hesitated, but only for a moment before beginning a rapid fire inquisition…

“Three favorite sounds?”

“The creak of a hoist, the crack of a cane, and the moan of a sub before hitting subspace.”

“Favorite apparel?”

“To wear or to witness?”

“To wear…”

“Vampire gloves.”

“To witness?”

“Pearls or weighted clamps.”

“Wax?”

“Absolutely.”

“Give me your number.”

It wasn’t a request.  Her eyes were banked coals but definitely alight.  I put my number into the phone as she sat down into the driver’s seat and buckled up.  She took the door after I had handed her back the phone, and rolled down the window.

“Expect a call.  5:00 p.m. tomorrow.  Name’s Maxim. “

Before I could assent, decline, or inquire she had waved and was pulling away.  I don’t know if it was the conversation, the possibilities, or the purr of the flame red Viper with the vanity tags ‘Manse’ that I was just now noticing as it was pulling away that snapped me to the present.  Reality had just piggy-backed a curve ball.

The drive home was uneventful if you don’t count the three missed turns.  I couldn’t shake the notion that I had just come up from the farm team to the big leagues and was lost in some serious ‘gapers delay’ from the moment.  I was also sporting some big time, ‘put me in coach I’m ready to play’ wood that was going to need attention as soon as I cleared the door, if I made it that far. 

The four-legged alarm system was going to have to wait for dinner; I was having some issues that couldn’t.  Monologuing all the way thru the lower level that this lack of control was not going to get it done, I stripped as I went, hoping the beast tip-tapping his way along behind me would leave my shoes alone long enough for me to finish.  Pinching off at the tip the last 5 steps before the pants came off, I had a brief reprieve.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, cupping the full weights before starting a long tight stroke, I thought about the events of the last half hour.  Licking my other palm, switching off for the time being, I imagined her and debated the call that was supposed to come as I stroked from balls to crest over and over.  Was she brushing me off or planning for something else?  I thought through the conversation again play by play and watched her in my mind’s eye kneel to do my bidding, lips parted, fingers locked right where I wanted them. 

The image was satisfying.  Taking the bead of Mother Nature’s lube from the top, I worked the length harder, faster, then faster still.  The tightening accordion drawing up close from below, I rode the edge just long enough to hit the back of her throat in my mind before blowing an arc toward the table.  She was the most satisfying thing in months of clubbing, and she wasn’t even in the room.