Serendipitous Dominance

As her muted screams died out of his ears he knew one thing for certain: he had to fuck her, and he had to fuck her tonight.

The rest of the afternoon passed by without incident as she alternated between sleeping, reading, and fantasizing about him, and he worked on his various writing projects, stopping every so often to plan out his seduction. By the time it was seven o'clock, both of them were hungry, so they had started getting dressed to go out. Since she only threw on a thin, black cotton halter dress, and some wedge heels, she finished getting dressed first. In the spirit of being a good hostess, she knocked on her roommate's door saying, "Say, I was planning on going out for some pizza. Feel like coming with?" At first, she didn't think he was interested since he hadn't replied to her question, but just as she was turning away from the door, he opened it saying, "That sounds great." He looked phenomenal in his dark jeans, gray long-sleeve cotton weave shirt, and boat shoes: he could tell from the almost imperceptible hitch in her breathing that she liked what she saw. Good. That made it easier. As he stood in the doorway looking back at her, he had to admit that she looked good too. The halter dress she was wearing hit her at mid-thigh, so while it was long enough to be demure, it was short enough to encourage the desire to do naughty things in public, and she was wearing her hair down. Between the humidity and letting it air dry, her hair had developed some sexy waves that just made him want to wrap his fingers in her hair and tug on it. As he looked back at her face, he appreciated the fact that she wasn't overly made up. She'd put on just enough eyeshadow and mascara to accent her eyes, while keeping the rest of the war paint to a minimum. The one exception was her lipstick: she was wearing the type of red lipstick that a manknowswill get him in trouble, and it seemed to have some kind of sheen or gloss to it that made her already sensuous mouth seem even fuller.

The pizza parlor she suggested going to was near the apartment, and since the heat was no longer prohibitively oppressive, they decided it'd be nice to just walk the six blocks. They shot the breeze as they walked, and both of them were pleasantly surprised by how much they had in common. When she mentioned that she had tickets to a travelling of production ofLa Traviatathe following week, she learned that he'd seen it twice back home and that the modern staging was one of the best sets he'd ever seen for the production. Likewise, when he'd inadvertently let slip his appreciation forStar Trek, she got into a lively debate with him over the most sympathetic "monster" from the original series (she was firmly entrenched in the Nancy Crater camp). By the time they finally arrived at the restaurant, they felt as if they'd known the other for much longer than merely a few hours.

When they finally ordered, they decided to split a pitcher of lager in addition to a broccoli and pepperoni pizza, and as they drank their beers, the subject of the evening's entertainment came up. "So, do you have anything specific you'd like to do tonight? Bar hop? Check out the local music scene? Chill in?" she asked.

"Well, actually," he started to reply, pausing as their server set up their pizza, only to continue after she'd walked away, "I'd kinda wanted to check out this fetish night I've heard so much about."

He'd said it so casually that she was sure she'd misheard him, but as she looked at him a little longer, she realized they hadmuchmore in common than she thought. She didn't want him to think she was too excited by this prospect, so she tried to play it cool as she replied, "Really? Fetish night? Huh, didn't peg you as the type. Sounds cool though."

"Good. What time should we plan to get there?" he asked. He studied her carefully as she thought about it. Her attempt at nonchalance was cute, but he knew she wasn't going to put up much of a fight. His best friend had frequently told him about their fetish night hijinks, and he'd even received a text that afternoon reminding him that it was scheduled for that night. He watched her face as she silently thought out a timeline. Finally, she said, "Well, everything's usually in full swing by eleven, so if we plan to leave the apartment by, say, ten forty-five, everything'll be fine." He nodded his agreement, and they went back to talking of other things, all the while he was plotting how he was going to use the night's festivities to get her into bed.

By the time they got done with dinner and had gotten back to the apartment, it was already nine forty-five, so each of them went to their rooms and quickly started to get ready. He kept his jeans on, but traded his gray shirt for a tight black cotton t-shirt with a black and gray pinstripe dress shirt, left open with the sleeves rolled. To that, he added a black studded wrist cuff and his scuffed up, black Doc Martins, and he was ready. It had been awhile since the last time she'd been at fetish night, and she wasn't completely sure what type of a mood she was in. What she did know though was that she wanted whatever she was wearing to make him incredibly,incrediblypleased. She couldn't say how she knew, but as soon as he suggested going to fetish night, she got the strong inkling he was a Dom, and she'd been a very bad little girl. With that in mind, she picked out a black, micro-mini skirt that had plenty of loops for ropes or handcuffs or any other restraints. Then, she threw on a black lace demi-bra identical to the one she'd woken up in, and topped it off with a long-sleeve black mesh shirt and a black and red leather dog collar. She rummaged through her closet for a bit before finally emerging with the black, thigh-high "fuck me" boots she'd been searching for, and she knew her outfit was almost finally complete. As she went to her underwear drawer, a wicked thought occurred to her...afterall, he had been the one to suggest going, and the report they established at dinner had all but erased her usual sexual reticence around strangers. She quickly grabbed two pairs of underwear before opening the door to her room.

As she poked her head out of her room, she could see that he was standing in the kitchen, and he instantly made her core begin to thrum with need and longing. When she entered into the kitchen, she made sure to hold the balled up underwear in the hand he couldn't immediately see, so that he wouldn't suspect her.

He looked her over with a very appreciative eye and with a cock so hard he could jackhammer to the center of the earth with it. She looked every bit a fuck toy, and one he planned on thoroughly enjoying. As happy as he was to look at her though, he wanted to get going, since the sooner they got there, the sooner he could begin to put his plan in motion. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, somewhat brusquely.

"Almost," she replied demurely. "I just need your help figuring out the last part of my outfit."

He looked her over again, but as far as he could tell, her outfit was complete; however, if she felt something was missing, he was happy to accommodate her. "What can I do?" he asked smoothly. The grin she gave him had the oddest sense of being both abashed and triumphant at the same time, which struck him as odd, but he figured he'd find out what it meant soon enough.

"Well," she started off slowly, "I wasn't sure which pair of underwear would be most pleasing." With that, she pulled the first pair of underwear out of her hand. They were black boy shorts, and seemed to be made of a supple leather that laced up the front. As soon as she pulled them out, he had a variety of images of things he'd like to do to her in them, but not tonight. Despite the sexiness of having her in leather underwear, they covered too much skin, and would frustrate his attempts. Silently, he shook his head. Upon seeing his "no" vote, she then pulled out her second pair of underwear. This time, her hands held up what looked like a red satin garter belt that had another thin strip of red satin attached to it to make a thong. Again, his mind conjured up various of images of her modeling said underwear for him, but it still had more of a bedroom feel to it, and not enough of the exhibitionism he was hoping she'd go for. He tilted his hand back and forth to let her know it was alright, but he wasn't completely sold. Finally, she gave him a coy grin before saying, "Well, in that case, I could always just wear what I wore to dinner tonight..." The way she'd said it was breezy, almost like she was bored by the suggestion, which made him all the more curious to see what the third option was. "I can't tell you what I think if you don't show me what the option is," he prodded her quietly. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew what she was going to be wearing because she slowly lifted up her skirt to show him her commando look.

She slowly did a little turn, all the while keeping her skirt held up, so that he could fully appraise her. As his eyes gently caressed her bare ass and her neatly manicured snatch, he was glad of the generous cut of his jeans otherwise he knew he'd be in even more discomfort than his blue balls were already causing. Although he knew what he was about to do was a little premature, he was hoping that all the signs she'd already given him would make up for the lack of preparation on his part. "Come here," he said to her, brooking no argument.

The low tenor of his voice as he issued his command ignited a fire inside her that had laid dormant for far too long, and its rekindling threatened to consume her. As he looked as her face, there was no mistaking the barely contained lust and need that he saw simmering behind her eyes, hardening his cock further. By the time she moved over to where he was standing, she had dropped the hem of her skirt and she had begun to look at the floor. She startled a little bit when his hand first cupped the feverish skin of her ass, but as he held on to it in his firm grip, she began to settle down. He leaned over her, speaking low, directly into her ear, and said, "You know you were a very,verynaughty little girl right? Going out in public without your underwear. You'll need to be punished, andtrust me, you will be." With that, he gave her ass a good, sharp smack causing her to both squeak at the unexpected action and moan with a deep-rooted appreciation.

"Your safe word tonight will be 'cheesecake,' and I will be theonlyperson who plays with you tonight, although I may not limit myself to the club. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," she replied quickly, her overwhelming desire to please him clearly evident from her demeanor.

Although they'd originally intended on driving so as to avoid dealing with the local cab company, he decided he'd rather take a cab to get started with their evening. As soon as the cab showed up, he made sure to get in first leaving her sitting diagonally across from the driver. He gave the cab driver the address of the club as he placed his hand meaningfully on her thigh. At first, he just lightly gripped her left thigh; however, after a few blocks, he began to strike up a conversation with the cab driver. With each tenth of a mile that clicked by on the meter, his hand inched increasingly higher up her thigh until finally, she felt his fingers tapping against her smooth nether lips. The constant rat-ta-tat-tat of his fingertips combined with the vibrations of the cab were slowly driving her mad with need as she felt her pussy get slippery from arousal. As she silently prayed he would press on her clit or would slip his fingers completely inside her soaking slit, he just continued carrying on his casual, I'm-just-a-tourist-here-visiting banter with the not-completely-oblivious cab driver. They were about two blocks from their final destination when he finally allowed himself to brush one of his fingers gently against her clit. Although he knew she was wet for him, the sheer abundance of her honeyed drippings still surprised him. Her body's eagerness to feel his turgid cock inside her pleased him, as did the fact that she bit back an exclamation of euphoria when he finally made contact with her pleasure nub. However, as soon as he had given her a taste of what she wanted, he stopped since they had arrived at their final destination. He quickly paid the man, and then pulled her out of the cab on his side to make sure that the cabbie didn't get more of a show than he'd intended.

The club hosting the fetish night was small, but not in an overly crowded way. He quickly surveyed the room looking for a place to sit down, and found a small hightop tucked in a corner near the dance floor that wasn't occupied. Without saying a word to her, he walked toward the table, trusting that she was following him. After he settled on to his bar stool, he glanced around the rest of the club taking in the well-stocked bar, the few lone dancers on the dance floor, and the decent crowd that was beginning to form around the wooden cross that had the club had been generous enough to provide for the evening's entertainment. Between the height of the bar stool and his own height, he was clearly able to see what had the crowd so fascinated: cuffed to the cross was a buxom blonde dressed in hot pink boyshorts and a black mesh dress, who was desperately trying to avoid the relentless tickling that two men in the crowd seemed to be doing to her with the aid of an ostrich feather. It was a mundane form of amusement to him, and as he casually glanced at her, he could tell she was just as bored by the spectacle as she tried to surreptitiously dance in her seat to the thumping beat pounding from the club's speakers.

He gently laid his hand on the silky skin of her inner thigh as he leaned over and said, "Do you like to dance?" As soon she felt his skin contact her own, she felt her heartbeat speed up, but it was nothing compared to what her body started to do when she felt his smooth honeyed voice curling through her ear canal, making love to her auditory sense organ. His voice had had such a hypnotic effect on her, in fact, that she was amazed that her neck muscles even understood how to nod anymore. When he saw her assent to his question, he leaned closer to her, drawing his fingers further up her leg until his rough fingertips leisurely began tracing the outside of her pussy lips. It took everything in her power not to focus solely on the maddening sensations he was creating in her loins with his almost absentminded ministrations, and she found herself rewarded when she heard his low, sultry voice tell her, "Get on the dance floor. I want you to dance for me. Make it something especially hot and sexy if you want to please me." With that, he promptly withdrew his hand from her body causing her to let slip a clearly audible whimper. He didn't say anything about her actions; instead, he filed it away for later, counting it among the things that she'd have to be punished for back at the apartment.

She unfolded herself from her perch on the bar stool, and eased her way to the dance floor. The dance floor had begun to fill up some, so she tried to find somewhere to dance that would give him an unobstructed view. After trying a few different positions, she finally settled on a space near the middle of the dance floor on a direct diagonal with his line of vision. Having found her place, she began to dance. The music had a constant throbbing bass beat, so she started off slowly, gyrating her hips to the beat, running her fingers through her long red hair before drawing her hands across her body to caress her supple breasts. Before long though, the DJ had changed over to something with a quicker tempo, and she found her inner animal come alive. He watched her, transfixed, as she seamlessly morphed from feeling herself up to something else entirely. His eyes followed her legs as they took on lives of their own as she dropped to the floor over and over again, her bent legs opening wider every time she neared the floor. He drank in the way hands began caressing her thighs, inching ever closer to her needy core before curling themselves around the edge of her short skirt at the last second.

Her eyes had been closed as she danced, so that she could better envision how hot she was making him, how hard her performance was making his dick, so when she felt the distinctly male presence step up behind her, her mind automatically imagined it was him. It was only when she felt the unmistakable heat ofwrathradiating off a source to her left that she felt her lust-heavy lids finally open, only to realize thathewasn't the man behind her. She stilled immediately causing the man behind her to involuntarily place his hand on her hip to stop himself from tripping. The sudden, unwanted physical contact had her on the verge of freaking out, which she would've done had her ears not picked up his voice telling the dance floor interloper, "This one'smine. Find someone else to dance with."

As he stared down the man who had attempted to participate in her body's rhythmic performance, he placed a firm grip on her elbow: not hard enough to bruise her, but firm enough for her to know that he was displeased. After a few moments, the intruder got distracted by the tattooed body of a woman who appeared shrink-wrapped in PVC. Once he was satisfied that the other man would no longer present any interference, he guided her toward the back of the dance floor, where the bathrooms were located. He casually glanced through the opening where the door to the men's room formerly stood, and seeing that there were only about three other men in the bathroom, pulled her inside. Once they were in the tiny alcove between the entrance to the bathroom and the cold steel of the first stall wall, he backed her up against the crumbling red tile of the wall, quickly conquering her personal space. She let out a "ugh" as her back hit the wall, which stopped him. He wasn't completely sure what he was planning to do to her, but he knew that he'd never been so enraged as he'd gotten when he'd seen the cheap Neo-knockoff attempt to start grinding on her. It wasn't really a feeling he was used to. His brain slowly began taking account of her face and her body language as they continued to stand locked against the bathroom wall: he noticed her heavy-lidded lust-hazed eyes, the way the tops of her nipples had begun to escape from the flimsy protection of her bra as her chest heaved erratically up and down, the way her mouth was partially open as if expecting a moan to slip forth at any moment.

Without realizing it, his hand had gone from boxing her in against the wall to snaking between her parted thighs, where he was able to feel the immense heat that was radiating off her burning sex. The animalistic part of his brain screamed at him to just plunge his aching dick inside her sure-to-be-slick depths, rather than continue to play all these games, but he refused to give into his baser desires. There would be time enough for that. He wouldn't completely deny his fantasy life though, so he crushed his mouth against hers just as he plunged two of his long, tapered fingers inside her. In all his sexual encounters, he'd never once found a woman as wet and as ready for him as her. To say that her sex was oozing from her arousal didn't come close to how eager her body was for him: rather, she appeared to be manufacturing lube, as if her body was trying to helpeveryfrigid woman in the world share in her pleasure. Her voracious mouth wasn't to be outdone by her pussy though. As soon as his lips touched her, she opened herself to him: inviting him,begging him,to dominate her mouth. Her flexible tongue danced with his as his tongue sought both to enslave her and seduce her. He felt like every nerve in his body was on fire, and it killed him to separate himself from her, but since he was unwilling to fuck her against the unobscured wall of a public bathroom (at least not for their first time together), he knew their heavy petting session couldn't continue.