Here for Shaye (3 page)

Shaye looked around. The camping lot Sir R picked
out was beautiful with the way trees surrounded the small open
space to the moving river. Tall, thick leaved branches hovered
above the edges of the space and over his large tent, providing
natural shade. The campground was like a forest cave. At the edge,
instead of a steep fall, the refreshing river greeted them.

Before they arrived, Sir R had cleaned up the space,
put up a tent, started a hole for the fire, and placed a plastic
white table for four on the edges of the river. Water drifted in
between the legs of the table and one olive green camping chair
faced the other side. A small white Styrofoam cooler, next to the
chair, threatened to tip over as the water splashed against its
walls.

"Come on inside," he said and nudged the small of
her back.

Shaye walked about thirteen feet and flung the
tent's green, textured door. She didn't need to bend her head to
get inside. The tent was large, made for a tall man who wanted to
stand while inside. Directly across, in the middle of the tent, was
a blow up airbed for two. To the left of the bed, against the
tent’s wall, was a large red cooler with a white top. Opposite were
two black duffle bags. One small and one big.

She moved away from the entrance then slid her
sunglasses inside her purse. She dug out a tissue and wiped the
sweat off her face and neck. In the front pocket, when she put away
the tissue, her fingers brushed over a stray hairband. She pulled
up her curls and fanned her neck, glad for the cooler air in the
darker tent. He bent at the door then dropped her duffle next to
his two. Hands on hips he turned and took a shoulder wide stance.
Battle ready.

She placed her purse on the floor, and interlocked
her fingers behind her back. Looking around, she felt like the
stolen Viking maiden in the midst of a war with ogres. Saved by the
Viking pillager. From the ogres. All he needed was a sword and
armor to match the frown that wasn't going away anytime soon. And
neither was a too-young-for-him five foot two submissive and her
one friend army. Lucky him.

She almost saw the wheels turn in his head as he
contemplated his moves. Scenes were a private matter and Shaye just
couldn't do her thing in front of Dallas. No doubt Sir R felt the
same way. Play or not, she was happy they met, happy he didn't turn
his back on her. She wished to start right away, but with Dallas
around, playing wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled under his
breath, more to himself then for her ears. "Come here."

She crossed the distance and hugged his middle. "I'm
sorry for everything." Face against his hard chest, she rubbed her
cheek on his soft t-shirt then buried her nose and inhaled loudly.
He smelled clean and sharp, his pine-laced cologne didn't hint to
men her age. She didn't think their years apart made a difference
with who they were with each other, but for him the age gap was
important. Maybe a deal breaker had she said something before. She
felt bad for lying but God, against her body, he was all hard and
man. "You're everything I imagined you’d looked like," she said.
"You must be very disappointed to get the opposite after all we've
said to each other online. To come here, prep all this—"

"Look up."

As he searched her face, her green eyes softened at
his furrowed brow. "Still, I make a great pup. I do." She nodded in
confirmation.

His hands, like a warm blanket, came around her
waist. "I'll say you caught me by surprise."

"I aim to keep you on your toes."

"Beginning to suspect that now. The way I see it I
got two choices. One, go home and wonder, and two, stay and have
fun. We gonna have fun?"

She brightened, and if there were a rainbow
somewhere outside, she'd see the flying ponies giggling over it. He
wanted to push forwards with their plan. He might have sensed her
relief when he caught her weight as her shoulders relaxed, and her
knees threatened to fold. Once Dallas found another camp, they
would play.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips then swiped them
gently with his tongue. Warm, wet tongue flicked against the seam
of her lips, and she knew from what they’d said to each other in
the past few months, not to open her mouth. He liked to tease. Eyes
closed, her knees finally gave out but she gripped his shoulders
for purchase and let him do whatever he wanted. She'd do anything
for his attention. He was handsome and tolerant and she was lucky.
He bit the soft place at the base of her neck. Head lolled back,
her neck exposed, soft and vulnerable while the butterflies in her
stomach turned into lust and arousal flushed from the tip of her
head to her toes. Her pussy lips tingled, her panties wetted.

"Have you touched yourself?" he said.

She shook her head. She was so horny and needy, he
didn't let her please herself for ten days as they counted down to
today. The denial was the first order he'd given her and she obeyed
like a good pup she was.

He buried his face in her neck. "The more I have you
in my arms, the more I want to hurt you."

She smiled in relief when he hardened on her belly.
She wanted him to burry himself to the hilt inside her and ride her
long and hard. She wiggled. He grunted and looked up. "All right
Shaye, let’s start from the bottom, hmm?"

"Um…now?" Dallas was still here!

"Now."

Dallas wouldn't come inside the tent would he? "Yes,
Sir R."

"Sir will do. Can you stand?" He winked and squeezed
her hips. She stood back, again, hands interlocked behind her.

His black tennis shoes came off first then socks and
then his shirt to reveal a hard chest with wide shoulders and
corded muscle. She wanted to rub her face in his chest and lick the
trail down to his middle and then choke on his length. Her eyes
focused on his erection. Under his pants, he flexed it then said,
"Up here." His eyes were smiling. "I can't say I've ever done any
medical RP." He came closer and tugged up the seams of her top.

She raised her hands. "I was rushing and got
distracted." Frank's face flashed her thoughts, but she squished
him away. He was her problem to deal with and he didn't have a
place here under the privacy of their tent.

Sir removed her top, straightened then folded it on
the bed. He did the same with her bottoms once she removed her
shoes and socks. In pink matching cotton bra and underwear she
stood before him while his hand caressed the top of her breasts. In
a C cup, slightly smaller than her D size, the bra barely covered
her nipples. He pulled the material down, tucked it under her
breasts. Soft, large palms weighed her tits, flicked her nipples.
"What are your safewords?"

"Traffic lights, Sir."

"You don't have to add Sir every time, only some
time. Your tone carries louder to me."

He walked around her and pulled her underwear down
to her knees. "Take your ankles."

She bent and gripped her ankles. His big hands were
smooth when they trailered over her bottom and they were rough when
his fingers dug into her cheeks. He slapped one then the other,
reached over her and gripped her hair. "You want to please me don't
you?"

He tugged up and she let go of her ankles when he
came around her. The grip on her hair tightened, she rose on her
toes and held his forearm with both hands.

"You want to please me at your expense?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You want to cry?"

"Yes, Sir! Ah!" she squeaked out when he shook her
body by the hair.

He pressed down on top of her head and she knelt
holding onto his thighs. He crouched in front of her then released
her hair. She placed her hands on his knees. Her face between his
palms, he assaulted her mouth. Teeth clashing, tongues twirling,
she moaned against his mouth and leaned forwards for more. She
almost tipped him over. He pulled back and slapped her. When she
fell to the side he picked her back up. They locked eyes. Sir R
searched hers for truth.

Thing was, some women spoke a lot online but with
real encounters, they weren't ready and found themselves not liking
the real deal. She didn’t lie about her end of the power exchange,
the need to be treated like a dirty, bad puppy girl, and while the
left side of her face prickled with heat, she lowered her head and
kissed the hand that hit her.

"All right then." He pushed his thumb into her mouth
and gripped her jaw underneath while his other hand cupped her
pussy. Oh, thank God. She pressed down almost sitting on his palm,
loving the way his fingers touched her. They were soft when they
played over her wet entrance. Shaye had been wet since she met him
six months ago. Most days she didn't have a dry minute at all. She
moaned, moved over them, tried to get him to rub her clit. Maybe
he'd let her come now, relieve the tension, let her lose the
adrenaline rush cursing through her.

“Ah!”

Sounds of pussy slapping broke the background noise
of the river current, the chipper of birds, and the occasional
small boat engine rumble as it cruised by their hideout. She
bounced back with each hit wanting more. Her small hand came on top
of his large one when he finally rubbed her clit. His eyes were
warm, his face determined, scary, and sexy, and she wanted him to
hurt her. While sucking on his thumb, she pressed the heel of his
palm on her clit and locked her eyes with his letting him see what
she needed.

Maybe if she begged?

He smiled. "You're a very needy puppy. Bite down."
He shook her jaw.

She bit his thumb while he let her use his hand.
Back and forth she glided on his palm. Almost there, oh yes please.
A few seconds more and she'd spill into his hand. Moaning,
breathless, drool pooling in the back of her throat she wanted to
beg for release but couldn't with a mouthful.

"Harder." He pushed two fingers inside her. She
rubbed herself, rose up and down on his fingers, and bit down on
his thumb. Closing her eyes when she felt the orgasm coming, she
bit and sucked him.

"Harder."

Her eyes snapped open. She'd hurt him if she bit
down any more.

She hesitated. It was hard thinking of much else
than his fingers inside her but she knew she couldn't bite more.
"Oh pluuase," she said through her teeth. She wanted to come,
didn't want to bite. His fingers left her pussy, his palm landed
across her nose. Ouch! Her nose tingled with the force of the hit
and her eyes teared. Her teeth dug into his skin while his hand
forced her jaw closed even more. Drool pulled in her mouth but she
sucked and keened, whined in distress.

"'That's enough."

She released his thumb. His face inches from hers,
he smeared her wetness on her lips. She tasted herself then swiped
her tongue over her lips for more. He turned around and plowed
inside his duffle bag. Sir R retrieved a three-inch thick leather
dog collar. All the thoughts of orgasm and biting, the whistling
birds and the river in the background cleared. It was like he'd
pulled out a diamond ring the size of a coconut.

Back straight, breasts spilled over her bra,
underwear somewhere around her ankles, hair in her face, she
interlocked her fingers behind her back. If she were a real puppy,
she'd pant now. So, she did just that, she panted with her little
tongue over her bottom lip.

"Don't question me, don't hesitate when I tell you
something, just do it. Understood?"

"I didn't want to hurt you."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry, I'll do it."

He snapped the tag from the new collar and stood
before her. Her eyes on the most prized possession of his for her,
she gave him her neck. "Pet store, Sir?"

"Only the best for my pup."

"Food was on sale this weekend."

Mid way to placing his collar on her, his eyebrows
shot up.

She pinched her lips in a smile, and searched the
ceiling with her eyes. Okay, so maybe she wasn't funny.

"Got a bag of treats," he said, his fingers brushing
her neck. "Bacon bits. You like those?"

"Um…"

"You're anxious," he said.

"Yes." This meet was really an audition, a trial run
for both of them. She hoped she pleased him at end of the weekend
because her gut told her they were right for each other.

"Just kidding about the bits.” He crouched in front
of her again and held out the collar. "Until Sunday, you understand
that don't you?"

"Yes Sir, but I'm hoping you'll let me take it
home." There it was, the truth, best tell him what she hoped for
from the start. Laid bare, exposed, she inhaled the scent of new
leather and wondered if honesty was the best policy.

He stopped, held the collar out of reach.

She lowered her head. "I sound like the most
desperate person in the world and that's because I feel that way. I
want you to know I won't make trouble for you after Sunday either
way. I wouldn't."

He kissed the top of her head and secured the collar
around her neck. He tapped her cheek and when she looked into his
eyes, he searched her body with his warm, hard ones. "You're a
beautiful puppy." He snapped his fingers. "On your hands and knees,
let's go see what your boyfriend is up to." Sir headed outside.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Mhm. Follow me."

What?!

She knelt, glued to the floor, collar safe around
her neck. Maybe that's why she managed not to follow him. The
collar was like armor, security, and a guaranteed commitment to
each other. 'Till Sunday. He wouldn't take the collar off because
of objections. Dominants worth their grain didn't work that way.
And her objections were valid, at least to her. When they planned
the weekend they were supposed to have a late lunch than see how
the meet went before the camping weekend, but now Dallas was here.
"Please no."