Dommissima. But
not until I’m using a cane, not crutches.”
The
tears she’d been fighting came in a rush. “You’re on,” Tula managed to say
before she bawled her eyes out.
He
might change his mind when she told him what she intended to do.
Chapter Two
Oh
fuck, he’d made her cry. Mistress and sub forgotten, Dario hauled himself to
his feet and tugged Tula after him, put his arms around his wife, and hugged
her as if his life depended on it.
“Tula? Sweetheart? We don’t have to. I’ll do
whatever you want, just tell me. You’re my world. My reason for living. You are
My Lady.” To his distress that made her sob even harder. Dario was at a loss.
His Lady, his Domme and he was helpless how to aid her. “I can’t make it better
if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“Is
it because you don’t think you can flog a sub on crutches?” he asked at last. “Or
the sight unnerves you? It doesn’t make me less of a man. My cock’s still in
full working order.”
He had no warning before Tula punched him hard
in the stomach. If she hadn’t pushed him back onto the chair he’d be flat out
on the floor. Dario wheezed as pain radiated through him and his nuts threatened
to crawl inside him and hide. Even his prick had deflated faster than a spent
balloon and hung down between his legs in shame. Oh ho, she was mighty pissed.
That
pleased him. An angry Tula usually made for some interesting scenes. This time
though? He wasn’t so sure. He’d questioned her integrity, and might just have
gone too far. Ah well, hopefully it would be worth it.
Tula
stood over him, eyes flashing and ohh, thank the lord in all out, full on
pissed Domme mode. “You, boy, need more than a flogging for that. How dare you say something so insulting? Do
you think so little of our relationship that you assume I’d react like that?”
He grinned. “Nope, but it got you going didn’t
it?” Dario said unrepentantly. Then he sobered. “Tula, love, My Lady, please don’t
treat me as if I’m made of glass. I admit I’ve not been the best person to live
with since this.” He waved toward his leg. “But not any more.”
“You
can say that again. Fucking nightmare, arsy non-sub.” Tula took off her jacket,
rolled the sleeves of her crisp white blouse up and un-tucked the hem from her
jeans. “That’s better. Now, you were saying?” Her tone gave none of her
thoughts away, not even if she expected him to be Dario or pet.
“Today?
I got up, looked at it, and came in here. Our playroom, that was. With nothing
to play on. No spanking bench, no floggers, no ropes or shackles. Oh, books and
a desk are all very well, and I like them but not in here. I felt…” He paused
as he tried to formulate the words. “Bereft, I guess. As if I’d thrown something
very precious away.”
Tula put her finger under his chin and angled
his head back so he could look her in the face and see the green flecks in her
hazel eyes, “Not thrown away, pet. Just mislaid for a while.” She hiccupped and
fished a tissue from her jeans pocket. “God almighty we don’t half pick our
times, don’t we? I’ve got some news you might not be too happy about. But first.”
She
smiled what Dario called her ‘wicked evil Domme in a devilish mood smile’. The
one where he usually ended up with a red ass and blue balls. “I’ll show you
what I think about flogging a sub on crutches. Get them, stand up, walk to the
desk and bend over. Twenty to start I think, pet.” Her tone was so level she
could almost be talking about how many prawns to put in a paella. It was the
intent, sexy, dominant and febrile look in her eyes that gave her state of mind
away. It was such a bloody turn-on Dario almost came there and then. His dick
was hard, hot, and no doubt slick with pre-cum. His mouth was dry and his body
tight with anticipation. He needed her tough, craved it, and without it he was
only a half a person.
“Ten
for dissing your Domme and
not until I’m using a cane, not crutches.”
The
tears she’d been fighting came in a rush. “You’re on,” Tula managed to say
before she bawled her eyes out.
He
might change his mind when she told him what she intended to do.
Chapter Two
Oh
fuck, he’d made her cry. Mistress and sub forgotten, Dario hauled himself to
his feet and tugged Tula after him, put his arms around his wife, and hugged
her as if his life depended on it.
“Tula? Sweetheart? We don’t have to. I’ll do
whatever you want, just tell me. You’re my world. My reason for living. You are
My Lady.” To his distress that made her sob even harder. Dario was at a loss.
His Lady, his Domme and he was helpless how to aid her. “I can’t make it better
if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“Is
it because you don’t think you can flog a sub on crutches?” he asked at last. “Or
the sight unnerves you? It doesn’t make me less of a man. My cock’s still in
full working order.”
He had no warning before Tula punched him hard
in the stomach. If she hadn’t pushed him back onto the chair he’d be flat out
on the floor. Dario wheezed as pain radiated through him and his nuts threatened
to crawl inside him and hide. Even his prick had deflated faster than a spent
balloon and hung down between his legs in shame. Oh ho, she was mighty pissed.
That
pleased him. An angry Tula usually made for some interesting scenes. This time
though? He wasn’t so sure. He’d questioned her integrity, and might just have
gone too far. Ah well, hopefully it would be worth it.
Tula
stood over him, eyes flashing and ohh, thank the lord in all out, full on
pissed Domme mode. “You, boy, need more than a flogging for that. How dare you say something so insulting? Do
you think so little of our relationship that you assume I’d react like that?”
He grinned. “Nope, but it got you going didn’t
it?” Dario said unrepentantly. Then he sobered. “Tula, love, My Lady, please don’t
treat me as if I’m made of glass. I admit I’ve not been the best person to live
with since this.” He waved toward his leg. “But not any more.”
“You
can say that again. Fucking nightmare, arsy non-sub.” Tula took off her jacket,
rolled the sleeves of her crisp white blouse up and un-tucked the hem from her
jeans. “That’s better. Now, you were saying?” Her tone gave none of her
thoughts away, not even if she expected him to be Dario or pet.
“Today?
I got up, looked at it, and came in here. Our playroom, that was. With nothing
to play on. No spanking bench, no floggers, no ropes or shackles. Oh, books and
a desk are all very well, and I like them but not in here. I felt…” He paused
as he tried to formulate the words. “Bereft, I guess. As if I’d thrown something
very precious away.”
Tula put her finger under his chin and angled
his head back so he could look her in the face and see the green flecks in her
hazel eyes, “Not thrown away, pet. Just mislaid for a while.” She hiccupped and
fished a tissue from her jeans pocket. “God almighty we don’t half pick our
times, don’t we? I’ve got some news you might not be too happy about. But first.”
She
smiled what Dario called her ‘wicked evil Domme in a devilish mood smile’. The
one where he usually ended up with a red ass and blue balls. “I’ll show you
what I think about flogging a sub on crutches. Get them, stand up, walk to the
desk and bend over. Twenty to start I think, pet.” Her tone was so level she
could almost be talking about how many prawns to put in a paella. It was the
intent, sexy, dominant and febrile look in her eyes that gave her state of mind
away. It was such a bloody turn-on Dario almost came there and then. His dick
was hard, hot, and no doubt slick with pre-cum. His mouth was dry and his body
tight with anticipation. He needed her tough, craved it, and without it he was
only a half a person.
“Ten
for dissing your Domme and
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