The Dom Project Read Online Free Page A

permanently glued to the doorknob.
    Maybe she shouldn’t make assumptions about his sex life. For an extroverted guy with an active social life, he didn’t reveal a lot of details about what he got up to sexually. Who knew; maybe he was incredibly picky, but he had so many options to start with, it only appeared like he was indiscriminate. After all, what was the real difference, mathematically, between picking one person out of ten versus picking ten out of a hundred? Whatever the case, he was allowed to keep his secrets.
    She’d gotten in trouble before, assuming things about John. That was long ago and water under the bridge, but the embarrassment still lingered.
    Don’t think about John .
    She pulled up a different tab and thought of the BDSM social event where she’d arranged her first introductory play sessions. Those had been safe, fun, exhilarating...until a few of the regulars started paying her an uncomfortable amount of attention. The worst wouldn’t back off until she mentioned a restraining order. No, that door was closed and she did not want to open it again.
    Instead, she pulled up a nightclub whose web address she knew by heart, even though she’d never mustered enough courage to go there. The splash page was black with pink lettering and a stylized pink cat that winked at her as she moved the cursor over it. The cat draped over a text box that read Miss Kitty’s Club. 21+ only Click Here.
    Her stomach fluttered, and the laptop suddenly felt unbearable, bulky and overheated. She shifted it down to her upper thighs. Oh, there was a new video link for Fetish Friday. She clicked on it eagerly. There wouldn’t be sex—it wasn’t that kind of club, she wasn’t bold enough to take that step, not without a dom accompanying her—but the video looked fascinating.
    Okay, fascinating was probably a pretty generous word, as if her interest in the video was purely academic.
    Sexy. Hot. Yeah, one of those.
    Sometimes all she had to do was imagine herself as the visual center of the ritual, being properly clothed and positioned for service, and that would take her away, at least mentally—oh God, it was so fucking good , even in the abstract. And she’d had a taste of how to make it real with a man. She could do it again. It was worth waiting for, to do it right. The right man. No, not only the right man. The right dom .
    She just had to find him.
    * * *
    Dammit.
    This was not working. Andy was naked, hot as hell and oh-so-suggestible, but John was hopelessly distracted. Which was not fair. At all. Okay, but he could still save the situation. He needed to satisfy the urge that was distracting him, and then he could get back to the task at hand.
    He circled Andy’s kneeling form, taking slow, predatory steps and tracing a palm over the smooth curves of Andy’s slight shoulders.
    “Comfortable?” he asked conversationally. “Nothing chafing? Jaw all right?”
    Andy gave him two high-pitched grunts through his bit gag: yes .
    John ruffled his hair. “Good, good. In that case, I’m gonna need you to get down on your hands and knees for me now, back nice and straight. I have a bit of work to do and I need a laptop table. There’s my good boy, be back in a second.”
    By the time he’d returned to the living room with his laptop, Andy was on all fours, head down, back pin-straight, arched at just the right angle to make a nice flat surface for John to work on. John would have to make sure to reward him for this later.
    He set down his laptop on Andy’s lower back, opened it and took a seat on the couch. “I need to concentrate on what I’m doing here, so that means I need you to be absolutely quiet. Understand?”
    Two grunts.
    “If you get uncomfortable at all, if you need to take a piss, or stretch, or my computer gets too hot on your back, you safeword out, okay? Show me.”
    Three grunts.
    “Oh, good boy . You know, I think you may get to come tonight.”
    Andy replied with a happy whine, which John