The Dom on the Naughty List (4 page)

From the yip Sabrina made, Q’s tongue or teeth were already in play. Q rumbled out a threat. “No being bratty even if you’re on top,
little girl. You know I’ll punish you later for it.”

Sabrina
gave an evil laugh. “Might be worth it. How could I hold back when I’ve got you like this?”

“
Just remember, I bite harder!”

Sabrina screamed. “
Ow! That was almost my clit. You’re worse than Jude!”

He curbed a grin and only snickered quietly. His brats always misbehaved, even to each other.

“Stop. Both of you, now. Look here.” Snapping his fingers worked. He waited until their attention focused. “Your presents came early.”

From the satin bag on the couch
, he tipped the two white and red star-bedecked ball gags.

“But…” Q stuttered.

He straddled Sabrina and slipped her gag in front of her mouth.

“Jude! Sir! If you do that I can’t –” But before Sabrina could add more, he had the ball between her lips, settled between her teeth, and buckled.
He shifted to the other end.

“You’re not letting us make each other come?” What a plaintive look on Q’s face. Having to contemplate Sabrina’s pussy an inch from her mouth and not be able to lick her would have that effect on Q. 
She loved giving oral.

“No.” He pressed her gag in place and secured it, pulling her head forward to get her hair out of the way as he buckled it. “I’m going to watch TV.”

“Say your safewords.” He pointed to each in turn. Satisfied he could understand them, he flopped onto the couch beside the bed with the remote in his left hand. Piranhaconda was on Sci-fi. Maybe he should’ve turned Sabrina so she could see it. It was their favorite guilty pleasure to watch together.

The indignant burble from Sabrina
changed his mind. With his right hand, he found a switch, bent forward and proceeded to lay a series of strokes across her ass. Not as hard as maybe he could have – he didn’t want her to jerk against Q too much, but enough to hurt. While he watched, a beautiful, raised, red line appeared on her skin where he’d hit. So he did a few, waited, then sat forward and stroked them, admired them. The attraction of this was eternal – he loved watching the girls get turned on by the pain.

O
ne long switch mark that ran for inches down to the sweet divide of Sabrina’s ass inspired him. Starting at the top of her ass, he bit the full length of it, all the way, listening to her squeal and sob and beg from behind the gag. He looked between Sabrina’s legs. Q looked…tantalized. He doubted boredom would reach her no matter how long he left her frustrated. Q would starve to death with pussy an inch away. Hope was her middle name, just like Mean was his.

Cross thought he was too easy on them
. Maybe, but this way was more fun.

Yep. He laid a few more lines on Sabrina, including some on her back. Then he popped open a can of
soda, slugged some down, and had a few pretzels with his feet propped on the bed.

Malevolent stares came his way from a pissed off Sabrina.
Heh
,
heh
.

“
I still love this show. I can’t imagine,” he said to his gagged submissives, crunching on another snack as he spoke, “a better way to spend the afternoon. Though I’m not sure which of you I’ll fuck later.”

Their whimpers
, and the sight of the curves of their legs and breasts moving, took watching TV into another dimension. He needed an extra set of eyes.

Spanking Sabrina came five minutes later, a
long with mild playing with her pussy and Q’s. They both moaned well, especially when he grabbed Sabrina by the hair, put his mouth to her neck and bit right where she already sported a deep bruise.

With her head still in his grasp and neck tilted back so he could see properly, he sank a finger deep into Q, probing inside her and pulling back and forth across her swollen G
-spot. Before long, he had her gasping.

“You’re both
so fucking wet.”

Carefully
, he rolled them so Q was on top. “Okay, the first one to make the other come gets their gag off. Go.”

For this
, he didn’t bother sitting down, but instead circled them, switch in hand, taking a firm swipe now and then at Q’s tempting targets. For her, he could go harder. She’d make sure not to hurt Sabrina and he could see her restraining her responses, even when he laid into her ass. The glare she shot him for that – priceless. She still hated having her ass beaten.

“Punishment, Q.” He ran his palm over the lus
h hills of her warmed up backside. The hitches in her breathing and the way she set her palms on the bed, told him how much she both liked and hated him doing this. “This stick makes you so red. It must be burning by now. Sexy. I didn’t lie, you know. I didn’t say I wouldn’t hit your ass. Next time ask better questions.”

He switched her some more, pleased at her little writhes and whimpers. “Make Sabrina come first. I know you can. Show me how. You think you’re her
Domme? Show her. I’ll cheer you on.”

And he did. Maybe she hadn’t thought it was possible? But the gag in her mouth became Q’s orgasmic weapon. Though Sabrina tried to match her
, she soon gave in and lay back, arching herself up at where Q pushed the ball of the gag onto her little pink clit.

“You’re
fucking swollen, Sabrina.” He touched the inside of her thighs and the bed sheet. “You’ve soaked the bed. Nice work, Q.”

By lifting her head rhythmically, and rolling the ball of the gag around in that one exquisite spot, Q brought Sabrina to the gasping
, squirming brink…and finally, sent her over. He put his hands on the muscles of Sabrina’s upper legs and held her down as she squealed and bucked in the throes of the orgasm. His cock was begging for some attention.

After
removing her gag, he let Q bring Sabrina to orgasm a few more times, then he took Sabrina’s gag off and watched while she sucked and tongued Q to climax. Riveting. The two of them moaning and tongue-fucking each other at once beat Piranhaconda any day or night.

H
e pulled off his clothes, flung them away, and slipped on a condom. Too bad the pill hadn’t agreed with Q. He carefully dragged them to the end of the bed and shoved into her. The first moist, hot clench on his cock as he squeezed inside was exquisite. He waited a while, rocking to and fro, before the rhythm took him. With Sabrina underneath, he couldn’t thrust too hard but the slow steady pace still drove him higher, binding him into that state of mindless animal-like fucking. Her little cries and moans gasped out faster. Sabrina must have been licking her too. Two girls, tied together, his to do with as he liked. Never got tired of that. Never.

At the wave of shudders wracking Q, he lost himself. With fingers dug into her hips, he pumped his seed into her, gasping as the roar of the orgasm faded.

“Christ.” Palms propped on the bed, his dick still inside, he examined the tree. “We still haven’t put the angel on top. Which of you wants to sit naked on top of it until Santa comes?”

There was dead silence before he heard a giggle from under Q.

“No dirty jokes about Santa coming or I’ll tie you both to the fucking tree for the whole twelve days.”

“Yes
, Sir,” Sabrina said quietly. “Only I’m never getting out of my head the picture of Santa with sparkly, glass blue balls.”

He groaned and peeked around Q’s body to glare into Sabrina’s wide
, blinking, brown eyes. “I love you both but I can see your gag getting a lot of use this Christmas, Brat Two.”

Q

The rolling pin had a mind of its own. No matter what she did, the dough was thick here and thin there.
Fuck it. The reindeer cookie cutter beckoned, as did the sleigh and one that must be a Christmas ball. She’d always wanted to do this, but her brothers would’ve laughed. There were flashes – vague memories of doing this with her mother. Curly black hair and merry blue eyes. The most beautiful woman Q had ever seen – until she’d met Sabrina.

The dough was stubborn and the antlers kept getting stuck in the cutter, ripping off as she
put the cookies onto the baking sheet. She picked the antlers out again and again, mashing them onto the reindeer heads and hoping the two pieces of each cookie would stick together while they baked. The extra large pack of Christmas cookie cutters wasn’t jumbo enough for her liking. It could have used a tree and an elf. She’d have to look for one at the mall later. It was still early – especially for a Saturday.

Bleary-eyed, Sabrina stumbled into the
living room, still wearing a pink, polka dot pajama top. Q’s nose was in a book that Cross had lent her when Sabrina came downstairs, eyes still half-glued in protest of daylight. “Do I smell...burning? Did you make toast, honey?”

Q bristled at the implication that she couldn’t manage toast. Then she smelled it too. “Oh shit!
My cookies!” She bolted for the kitchen. The great rescue singed an oven mitt and left a burn on her forearm, but she managed to get the sugar cookies out of the oven before they were completely ruined.

As Sabrina surveyed the chaos
in the kitchen, her eyes widened in disbelief. Q knew it looked bad – bowls, spoons and flour had risen up in protest at her baking audacity, and an egg had taken its own life rather than become Q’s victim. She’d meant to pick that up before Sabrina came downstairs.

“Sorry, Sabrina.
I know it’s a mess and I’ll clean it. But look, I baked!”

Her gloriously tousled girlfriend was kind enough to look impressed.
“Wow!” She leaned over to look at the cookie sheet filled with brownish, slightly toasted sugar cookies. “Reindeer, a Santa, a star, some Christmas balls, a present, a stocking, a bell. You did a good job! If you would’ve woken me up, I could’ve helped, Q.”

She
pushed a stray lock of Sabrina’s sunny hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I know, but... I wanted it to be a surprise. I made nine different colors of icing and bought a bunch of sprinkles. After they cool down, we’re going to decorate them!”

Sabrina wrapped her arms around Q’s neck and kissed her sweetly. “I can’t imagine anything that would have been more of a surprise, Q. You baking would never have crossed my mind.”

“They even look edible, right?”

“Yes, you did a very good job,” Sabrina laughed, sounding a bit condescending. “What’s with you lately?
First the tree and now baking? Are we having people over for Christmas?”

“Well
, no, but Christmas should be nice for us too. Not just in case we have visitors. You might like getting away from the holidays like Jude does, but for me this is...” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. She blinked to clear her vision.

“You okay?”
Sabrina’s arms tightened and she pressed Q’s head awkwardly down against her shoulder, giving Q a crick in her neck.

“Yeah, yeah.
I must be PMSing. I just feel like I missed so many Christmases. I don’t want to miss any more. Especially now that I have a family to share them with again.” Her brothers had rarely bothered with a tree after their parents had died, and if there’d been money she’d sometimes gotten a thing or two Christmas morning – albeit not wrapped. They’d done fairly well by her, for teenage boys.

“I know,” Sabrina said sympathetically. She gave Q a squeeze
, then let go and spun a circle, looking over the mess in the kitchen. She stopped at the white board hanging on the fridge. Q had noticed it earlier. She’d wondered what reaction Sabrina would have. They usually used the board to leave funny messages to each other, or add items for a grocery list. But now it had been transformed – courtesy of Jude – into a naughty list. Sabrina’s name was at the top of one column and Q’s on the other.

Sabrina studied it, her face growing red with anger. “What is this?” She stomped closer and stared. Underneath Sabrina’s name were six or seven frown faces and two smiley ones.
“A naughty list? And I have…three, four, five,
six
frowny faces! That is
so
not fair.” Grabbing the marker attached to the board, she mumbled something about bratty Doms.

Q stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Not now, Sabrina.” Usually, she’d let her brat at Jude – it was funny and kept them all amused – but she didn’t feel like dealing with the drama today. Not when she was trying so hard to make a perfect Christmas for them.

Instead, she cajoled her beautiful Sabrina to sit down at the table and made her coffee, impressed that Sabrina had managed to communicate at all before she’d gotten the requisite amount of morning caffeine into her system.

With Sabrina taken care of, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and started cleaning up the mess. No wonder she never cooked.
Then again, the kitchen hadn’t even looked like this after Sabrina and Jude had made Thanksgiving dinner for them and several friends. Kitchens just naturally despised her.

“What time did Jude leave this morning? I didn’t even hear him get up,” Sabrina
asked partway through her second cup.