The Game 116

Dominique had sworn that this time she would run all the way home from work. She was a partner at a law office exactly 7 kilometers from her front door, a path she had been trying to conquer since nearly a week prior. It was a long run, a good deal longer than what she had accomplished thus far, and she had yet to make it the whole way.

Dominique hated failing, and she hated giving up even more. Each attempt she made to run home ended in her grumpily climbing onto a bus, which only made her more determined to make the run the next day. Tom, her husband, insisted that she was setting herself up to fail. Dominique argued that she was setting herself up for a stunning victory.

The bus smelled like defeat, but at least Tom had to good graces to hide his knowing smile once she walked in the door. The scent of garlic mashed potatoes and soft lamb filled the hallway, taunting her while she ran upstairs to clean herself up. By the time she bounded back down, the places were set and Tom was relaxing in his usual seat. Her stomach rumbled so loudly when she walked into the kitchen that he laughed at her.

"Good run?"

Dominique only stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well," He sighed with a shake of his head, "at least you worked up an appetite. Dig in."

He let her shove much-needed calories into her mouth for a solid minute before he started to speak again. Dominique considered Tom's ability to know when she needed silence to be one of his finest traits.

"So, did you have to take the bus again?"

He still spoke in a country-boy drawl that no amount of prestigious engineering degrees could erase. Dominique wanted to be mad, because she was still mad at herself, but his earnest smile deflected her frustration just like it always did.

"Yes. I caved, and I think the bus driver was laughing at me."

"I somehow doubt that's true." Tom replied with a big smirk. "He doesn't know why you're on the bus, and even if he did, he probably doesn't see public transportation as a sign of weakness."

"It's not public transportation that's a weakness. It's my inability to get what I want."

"What do you want?

"I want to run all the way home from work and not wimp out."

Tom was suddenly leaning in close her her, aftershave filling the air with promise.

"You, my dear, are not a wimp."

He gave an unsubtle wink that let him get away without saying what he was thinking. After three years of marriage, he was still shy talking about their sex life together.

Dominique hummed thoughtfully, drawing back from him.

"You're right! It's probably your fault, you must have damaged my running muscles with the paddle last night!"

It was a joke she regretted almost immediately, seeing the momentary flash of worry on Tom's face. He was new to the roll of sexual dominant, and the thought of significantly hurting her during such play still really freaked him out.

Dominique patted his arm to make sure he knew she was joking, and a grin suddenly split across his face.

"If only you were as tough on the running trails as you are in bed!"

She gasped, hand flying to her chest as her mouth flew open. Tom chuckled, darting away from the table and leading her in a chase into the bedroom. She entered to find him flopped on the bed.

The bed creaked when she flopped down on top of him. She took a moment to goose his ticklish ribs in retaliation for his earlier comment. They both grew silent as they were enveloped in one another's arms.

Tom's shirt was soft, his body solid. He had put on some weight since they'd met, but just enough to add a cuddly padding to his frame. His short dark hair was as unkempt as always, but cut short enough to make it look like a fashionable accident. Her doing, of course. It used to be a mop.

Dominique's taste in clothing was born from a professional workplace, which Tom never had. His first job out of college was with a successful startup run by guys like him, who couldn't care less if he lived in a pair of jeans and a rotation of seven t-shirts.

None of that incredible professional luck had softened Tom's drive, though. He was a little younger than Dominique, and pretty as hell, but it was his ambition that really drew her to him. Wise beyond his years and thoughtful to a fault, Tom was perfect for her.

Originally he'd lacked confidence in bed, but she'd certainly taken care of that. Dominique had made it very clear what she wanted as a woman who had to fight and make decisions all day: No decisions. No fights, just utter submission.

A thought made her bounce with excitement, almost knocking the breath out of her now-dozing husband.

"Oh my gosh!"

"Huh? What?"

"That's an amazing idea!"

"Huh?"

Dominique bent her head down close to his, a sharp little smile bending her lips.

"If I can't make my running goals, you're going to punish me."

"Huh? How?"

Dominique just aimed a pointed look at him.

"Oh! I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"It's not supposed to be a real punishment."

"I'll still have my safeword, it'll be fine."

"But it's punishing you for a real thi--oh!"

His lips went round and his head rocked back as she ground her hips into him with purpose.

"I know." She told him with her lips pressed to his ear. "That's why I like it."

Tom didn't really seem to know what to say, so she kissed him. He managed to catch up only a moment later, pulling away to hold her temporarily at bay.

"You need to change your goals then. Smaller increments."

His agreement sent a thrill through her that was well worth the delayed progress of her running goals.

##

One of the best parts of BDSM lifestyle was the ways in which it could surprise you with thrills, even when your dom was miles away. Dominique found herself pondering that often in the next two weeks, especially during her evening runs.

She had complied to Tom's request that she scale back her goals and work her way up to the seven mile run. Instead she'd started running in increments, making it one bus top closer to home each time she ran. There were times when she wanted to give up, especially after hard days at work, but the special little twinge that the thought set off in her belly made her legs move faster each time. As much as tom's non-threat had excited her, she didn't want to go down easily. That would be unbearable.

The funny thing about their agreement was the way she was avoiding the punishment, even though the very thought of it made her legs weak. It wasn't so much that she felt any real sense of unease about what would go on, but rather that she didn't want to disappoint her husband's alter ego.

She often thought of Tom the Dom as an entirely separate person from her earnest, shy husband. Once Tom had grown into the role she'd put him in, he'd become spectacular at it. Tom was good at everything he put his mind to, and he certainly put his mind to this.

As she rounded the bend to the next bus stop, she imagined show his shoulders would tense, how his voice would lower and grow gravelly. How his words would change from requests into simple, respectful commands. How he'd pull her hair--

She nearly tripped on the curb, straightening and glancing around for onlookers before continuing home. That special twinge that she only got from Tom the Dom was apparently growing a little more powerful.

Tom was out in the yard watering their flowers when she stepped off the bus. He waved to her, a big smile on his face.

"Trying to make sure I'm not cheating?" She teased him as she crossed the yard.

"Nope." He laughed and winked at her. "I'd have to follow you ON to the bus to know that."

She moved closer when he turned the hose off, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close. The air was cooling down in the evening, but his skin was still hot from the sun beating down. His cheeks were ruddy with a sunburn weeks earlier, only now fading from the bright red it had been. She kissed him deeply, felt his surprise at the heart of it.

"Hi." He murmured, eyebrows high.

"Hi." she whispered back, voice a little husky. "Are you done out here?"

The hose dropped the the ground with a clatter.

"Yep."

Inside, their house was filled with sunlight. The sunroof and the whitewashed walls looked fresh and clean, the very air cozy. When they went to bed, the sheets were freshly washed.

It wasn't long before they were wrapped up in one another, rolling Tom on top so he could balance on his elbows and look her in the eye. His voice lowered.

"So, have you been good?"

"Mm-hmm." She sighed, eyes drifting closed when he mouthed at her neck.

"Good to hear." The growl was there now, and it seemed to vibrate strait from the lips pressed against her throat to the well of heat deep in her belly. "Cause you know what's gonna happen if you don't?"

Not even a concrete threat yet, and she was already wet as hell. God, she loved this man.

"I don't. " She reminded him with a coy little smile. "You haven't told me yet, Sir."

She felt his cock pulsed against her at the word, and she wondered what Tom would do if he ever had to get a job where people called him Sir. Probably think about baseball a lot.

His eyes widened, glance shifting thoughtfully as he leaned over her.

"Well... that's because it's a secret."

Dominique couldn't help but snort at that, so Tom quickly fixed her with a stern stare that did little to hide his amusement.

"Hey! You don't know. I have...plans."

He wasn't entirely convincing, but she shivered under him anyway.

"Do you?" She asked, her voice skeptical as she egged him on.

"Well--" He sputtered, before twisting his mouth into a smirk. "I'm gonna make some, so you better watch out."

Dominique watched a determined gleam enter her intelligent, dedicated husband's eyes, and it lit up her nerves like Christmas. Tom smiled down at her before climbing off the bed and strolling back into the kitchen.

She made an offended sound from the bed, but didn't argue. The wait only made it better.

##

Dominique was never sure if she was truly just exhausted that day, or if something in the back of her mind convinced her to forget the bet. Either way, when Susan from the office next door offered her a ride home, she took it.

She was already strolling across their lawn with her eyes glues to her smartphone when it hit her like a bolt of lightning. She froze on the spot, a thrill that weakened her knees shooting through her body as she looked up and saw Tom rounding the corner of the house.

Their eyes met, and for a moment he looked confused, but her expression must have given away what was going on.

"You get a ride home?" He said it casually, but the smile on his face was sharp and predatory.

"Yeah." She didn't really know what to say. Most of the time when Dominique was 'caught' in these little games they played it was on purpose, done entirely for the thrill. She froze for a moment, not sure how to continue.

Of course, Tom the Dom was there to save her from needing to know.

"You should come inside, we have stuff to do." He turned and walked away without any hesitation, and she followed. Excitement burned in her veins, making her shiver all the way to the bedroom.

"I need a shower." Tom told her, his voice brisk. "Wait here until I'm done."

The he undressed in front of her, thick materials sliding to the carpet at his feet. The room smelled like sunlight and denim. Tom's body was bare before her, strong and lean in the soft glow from the shaded window. He walked into the ensuite, and she thought about following him. She wanted him badly, realizing it when a squeeze of her knees made a needy tightness between her legs apparent. She waited, though, because he had told her to.

Dominique sat on the bed with her legs squeezed together. She shifted her body along the surface of the plush duvet carefully, smoothing wrinkles as she went until she was curled up in the center of the bed. She focused on relaxing, letting herself ease into the comforting role of a good sub.

She waited quietly on the bed because he had asked her to. She didn't need another reason. The anxious tension of her day started to flutter away, pieces tearing off like scraps of paper and disappearing. Tom had her, and he would take care of her. Even if it meant punishing her. Her clit throbbed, and she whimpered. She wanted to touch herself already, but she knew she shouldn't. Touching herself while they were in the game was against the rules. As 'in charge' as Tom was in these situations, the rules were designed for and by Dominique herself. She managed to resist.

When Tom returned from the shower, his body was mostly dry. He had a towel that he was scrubbing though his short hair, the motion stretching his torso into a hard rope of muscle and bone that she wanted to lick badly, if only to get rid of the one or two playful drops that were still hanging on near his pecs.

When he looked at her he had a smile on his face, a slight turn of his lips that made her feel that her patience must have pleased him.

"You can undress."

She sat up immediately, squirming out of her pantyhose with a sigh before ripping off her shirt and bra. With those taken care of she stood, facing him with her eyes trained on his face, and let her skirt drop to the floor.

Even though Tom was nude, she felt naked in nothing but her lace panties. The room seemed cool, and the sharp thud of the bedroom door closing mader her jump.

Her pelvis clenched then Tom stolled over to his dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer.

The drawer was full of their various toys and bondage gear, all tangled in a nest of thick cuffs and brightly colored rope. Tom knelt before pausing to look at her.

"I wonder what we should use?" He seemed to ponder it, and Dominique kept quiet. She wanted him to choose. The knowledge that he picked out his tools just for her would make her melt the whole time he used them.

He eventually stood, one set of cuffs in each hand. Each set had one small and one medium sized cuff, attached with a nylon rope dyed to look like copper cabling. The wrist to ankle cuffs. Dominique squirmed where she stood.

"You should take everything off, then get on the bed."

Dominique stripped off the barely-there lacy panties, letting them fall to the carpet next to the bed before climbing on top of it.

The duvet was warm against her skin, the soft cotton making her feel less exposed. It didn't last.

The wrist to ankle cuffs tied her wrists to each corresponding ankle, leaving her on her back with her knees bent and her body splayed before Tom. He took a moment to watch her, humming in satisfaction. He walked back over to the drawer. She hadn't noticed he left it open.

From her place bound on the bed, Dominique could barely turn her head and arch her back to see what Tom was doing. She moved more freely now, feeling more comfortable in the cuffs than she was when Tom left her free-range.

"Don't look!" He reminded her, and she relaxed, staring at the ceiling.

The next thing she knew, Tom had a hold of one ankle. Thanks to the cuffs, that also gave him control of her arm and most of her right side. She felt him kneel at the foot of the bed, felt the barest ghost of his breath graze the wetness between her legs.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." He told her, watching her up the length of her body. "I started off thinking I'd use the crop, but that seemed like too close to your usual reward." He winked at her, and she shivered. "So I decided to do things a little differently."

Dominique felt the feather's presence before she felt it on her skin. It was there in the breathless silence before he touched her, the soft wisp a real threat in a game where spankings were a reward.

She gasp and whimpered when it touched her, the tip slipping across the very top of her clit. He slid it down one side of her labia, along the crease of her thigh and back up the other side. The sensation was maddening, just as much ticklish torment as it was arousing. Her hips jerked and her ass bounced on the mattress, body straining against the grip of his hand on her ankle and the hamstrung effect of her cuffs. She wanted to beg him to stop teasing her, but she knew it wouldn't work. this was a punishment after all.

The first time her husband's feather made a full pass along her clit, she shouted. Tom stopped, and at first she felt relief, crying out again when he landed a sharp slap on the meaty portion of her ass.The sting of it was such a contrast to the feather's touch that it shocked her into silence. When Tom climbed to his feet and walked toward the dresser again, she hoped he was putting the feather away, perhaps taking out the crop after all.

He only came back with a gag. She whimpered, but opened her mouth and let him fasten it. Then he went right back to what he was doing, passing the soft feather over her clit again and again. She squeaked and moaned into the gag, taking less care than before with her reactions thanks to it's muffling effect.

"Don't cum until I say so." Tom reminded her. Dominique could only whine through the gag in response, certain that if she came too soon the soft touch of the feather on sensitized parts would drive her mad.

At first she was counting Tom's soft touches, but she lost track quickly. She turned dizzy with arousal, certain that the next damp brush of the feather would send her over the edge and whining when it failed. Tom paused. When she looked up she could see a feverish heat in his eyes as they scanned the length of her bound form. She felt the look like a spotlight.

"Are you going to stick with your running goals?" He asked her quietly.

Dominique almost jumped, because she'd very nearly forgotten why they were there. She nodded, face flushed over the gag.

"You've learned your lesson?"

Dominique nodded furiously again.

"Hm. That's good. If you really learned your lesson, I think I might fuck you now."

The sound Dominique made was loud, even through the gag, an affirmative yelp that held the same genuine desperations as the needy pulse of her hips.

Tom crawled onto the bed between her legs, meeting her eyes with his hungry gaze before they closed in ecstasy with his first thrust.

Dominique was so hot that his skin felt cool when it entered her, but that went away quickly. She was wet, unbelievably so, her pussy soft and welcoming in its embrace of his cock. Another thrust lit up the nerves inside her, and she could see that Tom was already close. He changed his pace, shorter thrusts with more friction, and Dominique clenched her body around him as she came, hard and silent. The hot burst of his orgasm came seconds later, both of them falling limp on the bed. Tom looked like he might fall asleep right there in the haze of their endorphins, but he took the time to undo her cuffs with clumsy fingers. They pulled the duvet up around them and fell into a deep, warm sleep.

Dominique dreamt that she was running a marathon.