Dom's Baby Read online

  “I’ll do what you say,” I say, my voice becoming all steely resolve.

  “Oh?” he asks. He gets up, spins the chair around, and sits back down. Not like a normal person at a coffee shop, of course. Instead of sitting with his legs under the table, he tips the chair back, crosses his arms, and looks down his nose at me.

  I stop myself from asking him to sit straight in his chair. I’m on thin ice with him. I’ve decided I will obey him from here on out. No matter what he asks of me.

  “Madrigal,” he says. “On a first meeting, I usually don’t ask too much of my clients. Since you’ve misbehaved so much, and since my time is incredibly valuable, I’m going to put you to the test right here and right now. How do you feel about that?”

  What could he possibly make me do here? My earlier fear that he’s going to make me swear obedience to a healing crystal comes back, but Dominick doesn’t strike me as the healing crystal kind of guy.

  “I’m ready to obey,” I say, still shaking from nervousness.

  “Good,” he says, and he finally slides his chair forward and sits across from me like a normal human being.

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pouch. It’s red and silky, and it’s tied shut with a golden rope. He puts the pouch onto the table and slides it toward me.

  I wait a few moments, but he says nothing, so I snatch up the bag and reach for the string.

  “No,” he says. “Madrigal, did I ask you to open it?”

  I put it back down without saying a word. I look up at him, into those intensely gorgeous eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Take the pouch with you into the bathroom. Open it. Then put it inside.” He grins wide at that last part.

  “Inside?” I ask. “What do you—”

  “Shh,” he says, “You’ll know what I mean when you see it. Once you’ve done that, come back out and sit down across from me. Understood?”

  I nod. “Understood.”

  I grab the bag and go into the women’s room. It’s the kind of bathroom where there’s just one toilet, and I have to lock a deadbolt behind me.

  I don’t sit down on the toilet, I just grab the bag and tug at the strings. I open it up, reach inside, and pull out…

  Jesus.

  It’s a vibrator. It’s shaped like a U with one side thicker than the other. It takes me all of two seconds to realize that the skinny side will rest directly over my clitoris.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper to myself.

  Then I hear Dominick’s voice loud in my head. “Put it inside.”

  I consider just throwing the vibrator into the garbage, walking out in a huff, and…

  And what? And never getting pregnant? Somehow two reputable women have told me this works, and it doesn’t hurt that Dominick is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “I promised I’d obey,” I whisper, justifying it to myself. “Just do it.”

  I pull my panties down and run my finger over my slit realizing I’m already soaked.

  “Shit,” I whisper, “This is insane.”

  I slide the vibrator inside of me, my breath catching slightly at the sensation. When the other part comes in contact with my clit, I have to stifle a moan. This really is insane. I can’t believe how easily he’s got me turned on.

  “Come back out and sit down across from me.”

  That means... he expects me to wear this out there… in public. I shake my head and fix my panties. I let my skirt drop back down, and I put my hand on the deadbolt, realizing that once I walk out with this thing inside me, I’ve reached the point of no return.

  4

  Dominick

  I watch as she shuts the door behind herself.

  It’s a fifty-fifty chance that she actually obeyed me. I could flip a coin. Heads, she walks out on me and doesn’t look back, tails, she sits back down across from me.

  Please be tails.

  I’ve never come across such a challenge. It doesn’t hurt that she’s absolutely beautiful. Her body is... I shouldn’t let my own personal tastes interfere with my work, but in this case her wide hips and thick ass will definitely inspire my work. I shift in my seat, already getting hard thinking about her being under my control.

  I wait patiently, and I watch as the door reopens. The moment I see her face—unable to make eye contact with me—I know that she’s mine.

  She walks in small steps, as if she’s afraid the small vibrator will fall out. I have to fight down my desire to throw her on the table right here and now and turn her pretty ass red. By the time she pulls out her chair and sits down obediently across from me, I’ve gotten myself back under control.

  Her lashes cover her eyes as she stares down at the table. I see her shaking. I love the way she trembles.

  “Madrigal,” I say, using a calming tone.

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Please look up at me,” I say.

  She looks up at me with beautiful green eyes. She looks terrified.

  “Give me your hand,” I say, more forcefully now.

  She reaches her hand out, but she looks worried I’ll bite it off.

  I take her hand in mine. Her skin is so soft next to my calloused hand. I wrap both my hands around her and apply gentle pressure.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say. “I just want to give you what you want most. We both know what that is, yes?”

  She nods.

  “Now,” I say, stroking her palm with my fingers. “I said I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise there won’t be any pain. Whenever there’s pain, I’ll always make it better afterward. Understood?”

  She nods.

  “Nothing should hurt today though,” I say, and I reach into my pocket with one hand, clutching the remote. I turn the dial. Just barely.

  I feel her hand clench tight against mine, and her whole body shudders. I find myself staring at her tits. It’s unprofessional of me, but I want nothing more than to put my mouth on them. I find myself imagining what color her nipples are… how sensitive they are...

  “It’s…” she whispers, then she looks around at all the people around us.

  “Yes,” I say. “It’s not what you’d usually do. But what you usually do isn’t helping things, is it?”

  I turn the dial up. She lets out a moan, but quickly stifles it. It wasn’t loud enough that anyone but me could’ve heard. Still, she looks around to the other tables, with her free hand covering her mouth.

  “Relax,” I order. “This is the point of the exercise. For you to relax.”

  “How can I relax,“ she says, her hand muffling her voice.

  I lean forward, squeezing her hand with mine. I look her right in the eyes gazing at her intently, and my voice pitched low enough that only she can hear. “You cum, Madrigal. You cum here for me, with all these people around you, and you’ll feel a rush unlike any other, and when the afterglow hits, you’ll be more relaxed than you’ve been in years. I promise you.”

  Her eyes widen as soon as I say “cum,” and her lip trembles.

  There’s a loud, electric whine, and we both look up to see one of the baristas holding a microphone.

  “Hey everyone,” the barista says. It’s a short guy with a scraggly beard. “Our open mic night is starting now. It’s something I’ve been wanting to get rolling for a while now, so thank you for coming, and if you didn’t even know it was happening... thank you for not leaving.”

  There’s stifled laughter, but not from Madrigal. She’s squirming and biting her lip.

  “So,” the barista says. “To avoid awkwardness and to help things get going, I’ll be starting us out tonight. I’m going to play a few songs I wrote myself. Hopefully you will all enjoy.”

  He fidgets with the mic stand as Madrigal fights her bodies response to the vibrator. She squeezes my hand, and I slide my chair up beside her and wrap my arm around her.

  “See,” I say in a low voice. “I timed it just right. Open mic is starting, a
nd now we can pretend we’re enjoying it together. The music will give you some cover and you should be able to cum in front of me and everyone else without making too much of a scene.”

  “Who’s pretending?” She asks through clenched teeth, her sarcasm pointed and sharp.

  “What?” I ask, rubbing her bare shoulder.

  “You said we can pretend to enjoy together, but who said I’m pretending?”

  I laugh as the mic makes a loud hiss of feedback. The barista cocks his head back and strums a few chords as he tunes his guitar.

  “So you’re enjoying this?” I ask, eyeing between her legs.

  “God, no,” she hisses. “I was just trying to—”

  I slide my hand down her body and squeeze her upper thigh. “You’re going to enjoy this. That’s an order. No more sarcasm.”

  The barista starts to play for real, and I turn the dial up significantly.

  She leans her face into my shoulder, trying to hide her moan just as the barista starts to sing.

  No one told us it was going to be this way,

  Each lost in our own lives, afraid to reach out and touch each other

  We’re all bound up, tightly wound, we just don’t got the balls to sayyyyyy

  He draws out the last syllable, trying to hit a falsetto, but not quite managing it. His voice cracks, and he strums louder to cover his bad singing.

  …sayyyyy…I-Love-You

  He strums loud chords between each word of “I love you,” and his eyebrows scrunch up as he gets into it. His voice even starts to sound better as he finds his groove.

  “Not bad, but certainly not good,” I whisper into Madrigal’s ear. I press my lips against the soft part of her earlobe, wanting her to imagine my lips between her legs. I slide my hand up her thigh to kill any last semblance of subtlety.

  5

  Madrigal

  God. I should’ve had wine instead of coffee.

  Dominick’s strong hand runs up my thigh, hiking my skirt up as he goes. The table sort-of-kind-of covers things, and the lights are dimmed, but anyone and her mother could see what he’s doing. And he doesn’t give a rat’s ass if anyone sees. Meanwhile, I’m a ball of anxiety waiting for the pointing and screaming.

  The vibration within me intensifies again, causing me to squirm in my seat. I gasp when the device presses more firmly against my clit.

  “Ahh…” My voice cuts off just like the damn barista trying to hit the high notes. I look around anxiously, worried someone heard me, but a lot of people have just started talking more loudly to each other to compensate for the music. Those who aren’t loudly talking are mostly focused on the barista and his guitar. No one is paying me any notice. Except Dominick.

  The vibrations get stronger as the song reaches its high point, and I instinctively clutch Dominick’s forearm, digging my fingers into him. Squeezing his arm gives me a focal point, something to channel the sexual energy into as it continuously intensifies.

  I feel so wet between my legs that I’m sure my panties are soaked through. Dominick’s hand has wandered so high up my leg he might be able to feel just how wet he’s making me.

  I try to focus on the song for a moment to stem my rising feelings.

  Wet lips in the desert tell the sweetest tales,

  Keep ‘em closed for now though, cause this is between you and me and this here bed;

  I came here to find God but I found you instead...Oh, Is-ra-el…

  Yeah, Israel! Came here to find God but I found you here instead!

  Tell me you love me right here in Tel-A-viv!

  Ugh, this song is awful. “Wet lips,” “Keep ‘em closed.” I swear he’s singing to me for a moment. I clench my knees together, but Dominick pulls at my thigh and my legs spread again. The vibrator pressing into my clit.

  I start to feel serious pressure building up, and I muster all my energy to stifle a whine. My nails are digging so deep into Dominick’s arm that I’m worried I’ll draw blood, and just as I start to buck my hips against the chair, the vibrations die down just as fast as the music.

  The barista clears his throat. “I wrote that song while I was on birthright. In Israel. Tel’Aviv, to be specific. Birthright is a great opportunity for anyone of Jewish descent to discover our promised land. And hey, you might just find something other than God along the way... like love... but that’s okay, because God wants us to be happy…”

  “You turned it off,” I hiss to Dominick.

  “You were about to cum between songs,” he says.

  “Wasn’t that the goal?” I snap back.

  “You sound annoyed, Madrigal,” he says, “Are you telling me that you wanted to cum? Here in front of all these people? With no music to cover your moans?”

  I realize my nails are still digging into his forearm. Anger flashes through me, but I force myself to control my breathing. “Look,” I say. “I said I’d obey. Now let me obey.”

  Dominick looks around the room, then points around at everyone with his finger. “Keep ‘em closed for now, cause this is between you and me—”

  “Shut up,” I hiss, slamming my leg into his.

  “I give the orders,” he says, and he cranks the vibration up to what feels like the maximum setting as the barista begins to strum and sing.

  Jesus. I gasp from the intensity of it, and Dominick’s strong hand on my thigh begins to feel like everything. I want him to touch me more than that. I want to feel all of his skin against all of mine, and—

  My entire body shudders in waves. My pussy starts to feel hot as it gets wetter and wetter. I feel an urge to press the damn vibrator against myself, but I’d have to reach up under my skirt just to do it. Dominick’s hand is closer... he could—

  God. What am I thinking? We’re in public. I usually don’t even like having sex with the lights on.

  I slide my hand up and squeeze Dominick’s bicep. Wow, he’s strong. I didn’t think his bicep would be this big. I find myself leaning my head onto his shoulder, mostly so that I can use his body to hide my involuntary movements.

  “Good,” he whispers. “Now you’re being a good girl, Madrigal. Very obedient.”

  “I don’t have much of—” I start to say, but a moan slips out. “—a choice!”

  “Let it wash over you,” he says. “If you fight it, it won’t come, and you’ll just keep getting more and more worked up.”

  He leans in, swipes the stray hairs from my face, and kisses me right on the forehead, as if we had been dating each other for months and months.

  Somehow the idea of this dominant asshole showing that kind of tenderness does something to me. I inhale a breath, but it’s not enough. I keep sucking in more and more air as my pussy lights my blood on fire. I clench my ass cheeks and gasp more and more, and finally everything comes to a head.

  I exhale, but it’s not just a letting out of air, my voice goes with it. I hear myself screaming.

  My body jerks as the horribly embarrassing sound flows out of me, and I press my face into Dominick’s strong shoulder, stifling the sound into his big muscles.

  The orgasm explodes within me and shoots out to the tips of my fingers and toes. My toes twitch, and I feel myself biting down onto Dominick’s shirt. When I finally dare to look up again, there are tears in my eyes, but they don’t blind me to the fact that a number of people are looking at me with raised eyebrows

  Dominick’s hand is running back and forth from my knee, up to just high enough that it’s barely acceptable in public. Each nerve his skin touches feels like it’s singing, and I wish to God he’d touch me more. Touch me everywhere.

  Another squeal comes out of me, and Dominick whispers hot into my ear. “Start clapping, you’re drawing some real attention. Pretend you like the shitty music.”

  I start clapping, which makes me feel even dumber. Who could actually be into this song? I see a few people shake their heads and roll their eyes, but it works, and they stop looking at me. They are probably suffering second-hand embarrassed a
t the idea of me being into this guy’s music.

  I feel something start to drip down the inside of my thigh as my orgasm finally begins to die down, and just as everyone has finally looked away, Dominick’s hand slides all the way up my thigh, and in one quick movement he runs his fingers along my panties. I feel his fingers slide through the wet area on my thigh, and then they press the vibrator against my clit, and it rocks me again from deep inside. I just bury my head into his shoulder again and squeal into his flannel shirt. I dig my fingers into his torso, again surprised at just how muscular his entire damn body is.

  When I finally look up again, I can tell the song is ending.

  Dominick lifts his hands up as if he’s waiting to applaud, but then he makes eye contact with me and slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking my juices right off his fingers. He pops them back out and starts to applaud.

  “Hey,” the barista says. “That song was about why I decided to become vegan. Shout-outs to the woman in the white blouse for getting so into the song. It looks like I really touched you.”

  The barista tips his head toward me and grins, and Dominick wraps his arm around me and smiles toward the barista.

  6

  Dominick

  I walk Madrigal outside, grasping her by the hand. As soon as we are outside and the cool air hits us, she looks up at me with wide eyes.

  “What the hell?”