Page 94 of The Dom with a Safeword

“She’s so spankable,” Jude said admiringly. “A Dom’s wet dream.”

Q nodded in agreement. “She walks around the apartment in these tiny little towels, the bottom of her cheeks hanging out. Like she doesn’t know what she’s doing to me. At least now if she does it, she knows I’ll bite her.”

A whimper from Sabrina got their attention. “You bite it too hard, Q. And quit talking about me as if I can’t hear you!” She tried to get up.

“Stay!” they both growled.

“You know what this shot is missing?” Q asked.

“It needs a little color, I think,” he replied.

They smiled at each other and he stalked back to Sabrina. He raised his hand high then brought it down hard – the slap echoing loudly in the large room. Sabrina screeched, and stomped her foot. The glare she gave Jude was priceless. Q could almost see the red print throbbing on Sabrina’s ass – Jude’s fingers and thumb all in bright scarlet relief on her pretty white backside. Q’s camera had started clicking as the blow descended, so she’d captured images of the hulking man menacing the dainty girl. In the final frames, Sabrina’s marked ass was the focal point, the pain and pleasure on her face its accent. She flipped back through the shots and was caught between wishing she was Jude and wishing she was Sabrina.

“Good?” asked Jude.

“Yes, several. We could easily sell these as cover photos.” She smirked.

“Ghost!” Sabrina squeaked.

Q chuckled. “I would never sell these, little girl. Jeez, next thing you know you’ll safeword for having to do dishes. Safewords are for emergencies.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not funny. Can I move now? I’m getting tired of standing like this.”

“Sure,” said Q. “Kneel on the floor and put your hands behind your head.”

Sabrina balked.

“Now!”

Looking startled, she knelt on the floor. Q strolled over, unhooked Sabrina’s bra and slid it down her arms, then pulled the girl’s hands into position. Her breasts thrust up and out. Q crouched beside her. She bit firmly at one nipple then the other, and then sucked them until Sabrina mewled.

She stood back with Jude and looked down at her. Sabrina squirmed in place, looking up miserably at the pair of them. Poor kitten. It must have been hard having two Doms.

“Are you wet, Sabrina?” Jude asked.

“Why don’t you check and find out?” she snapped. “Sir.”

He tapped Sabrina’s face lightly with his fingers – a mockery of a slap. She blinked furiously then her eyes widened in shock. She gulped.

“What did I tell you about sassing us?” he demanded.

Her skin reddened. She squirmed. “Sorry, Sir.”

Jude nodded and got down in front of her while Q went behind. They ran their hands over her body, exploring with gentle fingers. As Q nudged aside her tiny thong and probed the wetness between Sabrina’s thighs, her fingers bumped into Jude’s where he toyed with her clit. Q coaxed a finger into her, stroking with a slowness she knew Sabrina would find frustrating. She fastened her mouth onto the back of her neck, biting and sucking hard. Jude’s head lowered and he latched onto Sabrina’s nipple.

Her breathing was erratic and labored, her moans getting progressively higher pitched as she got to the precipice. Before she went over the edge, both of them stopped and stood, looking down at her again. The scream of frustration was pure desperation. A couple of tears streaked down her face.

“Please, let me come?” she begged, brown eyes round and pitiful. She had managed not to lower her arms, and her tits still thrust forward, nipples shiny from Jude’s attentions.

Q fought the urge to lay her back on the couch and suck her clit into her mouth. Hearing and feeling Sabrina come was even better than having an orgasm herself. Instead, she caught Sabrina’s gaze and smirked then suggestively licked her bottom lip. Sabrina eyed her mouth as though just watching it in action might be enough to give her relief.

She snapped a few pictures before Sabrina came to her senses.

They posed her in a few more positions, alternating between staring at her and touching her. Jude stripped her of her panties at one point. Eventually she’d had enough.

Q had used a wide white ribbon to tie her wrists behind her and she was standing, looking over her shoulder at them. “How come you don’t have to be in any of these, Q?” she grumbled, not that she’d budged from where they’d put her.

“Because I’m the photographer,” she replied sardonically. “I’m also barely a sub, if you hadn’t noticed.”