Dancing With A Dom by Katherine Deane #BDSM!

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Blurb:

To this day, I’m still not sure which is more embarrassing.

Being left by your husband who says you are fat, overbearing, and frigid in bed.

Or having to change partners midway through a season of televised dancing—because your partner can’t lift you.

Both hurt. A lot. The first made me want to curl up into a little ball and hibernate. Since I had plenty of fat to store away for the winter, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

The second left me so angry, I waltzed the man through his own set of moves—straight up to the full mirror. Then I lifted him. Luckily, he didn’t get hurt. And I didn’t get sued.

But that’s how I ended up over the knee of the hottest man I have ever met.

After he spanked me, he became my new partner.

We danced.

NOTE: This novella originally appeared in the USA TODAY BESTSELLER Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine’s Day Stories.

This story has been reedited. 10k words of hot new scenes!

 

Excerpts from Dancing With a Dom, by Katherine Deane

(I’m going to spank you)

The head dude in charge loomed above me, for a few minutes. Waiting for me to make up my mind, I guess. Since I couldn’t go invisible, I had to face him. I straightened and acknowledged him with an embarrassed grimace.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I’m not usually like this.” Why I pleaded my case before this stern-faced man I don’t know. But I did. Maybe I didn’t want him to think I was a bully. I certainly felt like one.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Of all the questions he could have asked me—where are you from, why are you so angry, are you married, why did you make my dancer cry—this one caught me off guard.

“I…”

“Have you taken a break since you started this morning?”

“No, sir.” Where did that come from? Great, I was falling for the big, stern daddy type. All right, spank my bottom like the naughty girl I am. Just please don’t send me to bed hungry.

The corner of his mouth quirked up.

Oh God, did I say that out loud? I waited for the universe to swallow me whole, as my whole body overheated with embarrassment.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” He took my hand, and propelled me toward the door. “We’re going to head over to the deli and get something in your stomach. Then we’re going to talk about what’s going on in your head. And then I’m going to turn you over my knee and spank you for being so mean to my favorite employee.”

Okay, we had a plan. A course of action for the day. A full list with everything laid out— “Wait, what did you say?”

Leaning in with a toothy grin, he pulled me closer to him. “You heard me the first time. I’m going to spank your ass, naughty girl.”

Well, that made my panties wet.


 

(So responsive)

“You are so responsive, my beautiful little girl.” He caressed her neck and swayed with her. “If I spanked you right now, do you think you would come?”

She shuddered in his tight grip.

“Bend at the waist.”

As she obeyed, he watched with awe her gorgeous round globes stretching her black yoga pants. “You have a lovely ass.” He smacked the right cheek. “Begging to be spanked. Would you like me to spank you, Macy?”

She groaned.

He changed the music. The fast beat of the rhythms added to his anticipation as he stroked and slapped each buttock. He smacked one cheek, watching it wiggle. Then the other, picking up the pace with the music. A fire built in him as his cock strained in his pants. “How are you doing?” When he stopped, she groaned loudly.

“More.”

“Stand up, grab the bar, and bend over with your back straight and your ass out. I’m taking your pants down, now, beautiful girl. I want to feel your flesh against the palm of my hand.”

She whimpered and obeyed, grabbing the bar in a tight fist as she hung her head.

He pulled down her yoga pants and white cotton panties and paddled her ass fast and hard, changing and alternating with the rhythms of the jungle music. Her cheeks reddened quickly as they bounced and jiggled at each firm slap. It was as perfect as he had envisioned. The curves of her cheeks begged to be rubbed, squeezed, whipped, fucked… He hadn’t felt this way in such a long time.

Brushing his finger across her wet pussy lips, he felt the abundant arousal sliding down her legs. “You are so responsive. So wet. So fuckable. Look,” he commanded.

She squeezed her eyes shut and hunched her shoulders. He smacked her hard in the spot where her glowing buttocks met her thighs. She shrieked and tried to shield herself.

“I told you to do something, my beautiful little sub. Look in the mirror.” He pulled her away from the bar and turned her so her red ass reflected in the mirror. “See my beautiful marks on you. See how you glow.”

Her glossy eyes widened, and she licked her lips, breathing heavily as she focused on his favorite sight.

 


 

(Tidying up the apartment)

After tidying up the kitchen and living room and bathroom, I realized I had been waltzing while vacuuming. Jeesh. I couldn’t get the music out of my head. The beats moved faster, and I started swaying. My hips liked this kind of movement. They liked to sway. So did my ass. I was about to Mary Poppins my way into a provocative salsa with the hose of my Kirby when I realized what I was doing.

Damn it! Scolding myself to stay in control of my freakishly horny body, I goose-stepped my way through the dusting. Mmm, but a feather duster did have the whole French maid kind of appeal to it. I could see myself coyly grinning while reaching for the top shelf. I would wear nothing except my apron.

Oops, got a little dust on my tits. Maybe I should wipe them off. Or my handsome partner could. I stroked my nipples. I moaned.

Stop right there! This was insane. I had become a lunatic who got off with a feather duster and kinky thoughts of well-chiseled dancing Doms. What happened to my self-control? Tomorrow, I was going to see my doctor. My hormones were probably fluctuating. Maybe some medication would help.

I snuggled up onto my couch and checked off my list. Thirty more items to do before I could cross a black Sharpie mark through Saturday.

The buzzer rang for my door. Looking at the small monitor, I saw the dark, tousled hair, strong lines, chiseled jaw, dangerous eyes. It was him. My dancing Dom.

 


(You’re going to spank yourself)

He let me go, and grinned. “You are such a naughty little thing, playing with yourself without my permission. I was going to give you the spanking you wanted. But now, you get the spanking you deserve.” He swatted my ass once more and kissed me quick on the lips. “Grab that hairbrush and go to your bedroom.”

I hadn’t been spanked with a hairbrush yet. What would it feel like? I tapped it against my palm as I walked out the door and to my bedroom. Ow, that little thing packed quite a punch. “Are you really going to spank me with this thing?” I asked as soon as we both stood in front of my bed.

“Nope.” He grinned and the look he gave me made me shiver. “You’re going to spank yourself while I watch.”

Oh God. I sagged onto the bed, almost feeling dizzy as another wave of arousal heated my core.

“Bend over the bed,” he ordered low and quiet.

I obeyed. He could see every part of me. My blotchy, red bottom cheeks, my engorged clit, the wetness between my legs. It embarrassed me. And I loved it.

“Spank your naughty ass with the brush.”

I whimpered and gripped the thick handle between my fingers.

“Do it well, or I will punish you thoroughly,” he growled and sat down on the chair facing the bed.

 

 

 


(Exhibitionism and empowerment)

Grabbing my tits, I thrust them out and against the black cotton of my tank top. I was wearing the special kind of tank with a light built-in shelf bra. Not great for support, but pretty damn great when you wanted to wiggle and flaunt what you had. I had gorgeous breasts. I had always known this. Perfectly shaped, well rounded, full. Swaying with each step I took. And the men loved it. They really were fucking me with their eyes. I was the one thing they could not get enough of, could not take their eyes off. It empowered me. It felt sexy. I felt beautiful. I loved the way they leaned forward, licking their lips, eyes wide, dilated. Their fists clenched against the seams of the jeans. I could see the rock-hard interest in all of them, except for John. Probably because the camera sat on his lap.

Men watching me.

Men loving my body.

I felt so in control, so wanton, so horny.

“Give me a dollar,” I said in a low, husky voice that didn’t sound like my own.

All three men instantly thrust bills at me. With a grin, I collapsed to all fours and took one in my mouth. Sitting on my heels, I rubbed the crisp, cool bill against my peaked nipples. Coarse, rough…like sandpaper. I was too sensitive and it hurt. But it hurt in a good way.

The music thumped faster, and I stood up, swaying, thrusting my pelvis as if fucking air. They liked that. I heard a loud groan, and an “Oh, yeah.” It turned me on. They were like putty in my hands.


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