Plaything

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by Cole Denton


  Of course, I had to have a master in the first place. Someday I would have one that would meet my needs.

  Six months after the death of Jacob, Elise no longer wore her wedding ring. She had stopped painting her nails any color but a deep red, or maroon, or burgundy. Her body had become more toned than I had seen it before. Definition around her biceps had taken slight shape, and there was a clear line leading from her elbows down to her wrists.

  Around the seventh month mark, I barely recognized the woman that came in alongside Liz. In fact, when she came in with Liz on a busy Friday morning, I had to do a double-take. The blonde woman I was used to seeing, was now a brunette with some red highlights. As they stood in line and talked, I noticed how the sunlight that came in from the windows made her hair glow a beautiful auburn.

  The beautiful stranger with the auburn hair collected her large cup of house blend coffee and dropped a few dollars into my tip jar before she headed to the door with Liz. I watched her ass in those yoga pants that accentuated every curve as she moved. My cock straining in my pants reminded me that I had a thing for women with auburn hair.

  2

  Elise

  I sat across from Liz and listened to her tell me for the millionth time that going back to the club might help. The other times that she had mentioned it, I tuned most of it out. I wasn’t ready and was overcome with guilt for even thinking about it.

  “Elise, you can’t forget that you’re alive,” Liz reminded me as I sipped on my coffee.

  “I know, Liz.” I shook my head and set the coffee cup down. “I think about it sometimes and can’t even imagine submitting to another man,” I admitted. “Or woman,” I added.

  Liz has topped both men and women, so I knew the next thing out of her mouth would have been the idea of letting a woman top me. But I wasn’t interested in being topped or submitting anymore. My submission belonged only to Jacob.

  What dangled like a carrot in front of me was the idea of me topping and dominating. Jacob often encouraged my curiosity, which made topping easier to digest. I had fantasized about it many times, both while Jacob was alive and after he passed.

  While Jacob was alive, I had even acted out on those fantasies. I would get dressed up in a corset, stockings, and boots, and I would reprimand my “pillow sub” for his naughty ways. Jacob loved seeing this. He would help give me ideas and encourage my scene with the pillow sub.

  I think he had wanted to see me actually top someone. I could feel a lump forming in my throat as I thought about how Jacob even tried to get me to consider topping some young guy at the club the night before he left for Australia.

  Though I had been thinking of the fantasy of topping a young man, I hadn’t voiced it to Liz. I didn’t want her to think that I had let go of Jacob. I would always belong to Jacob. I knew that Liz had probably been thinking about it, but she finally brought it up as we sat in the coffee house.

  “You know,” Liz began as she looked up from her coffee. “You could always try switching and find a nice young gentleman or young lady to top.”

  The heavy hands of sorrow released their grip temporarily. I had thought about this so much recently, but each time I had opened the closet that held my corsets, I was overwhelmed with sorrow and would shut it.

  “Just to try it out. You’ve always fantasized about it.” Liz reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. “Jacob loved to watch you strut around and dominate the hell out of that pillow.”

  Both of us burst out laughing as we imagined me dressed up, wielding a strap-on while taking a crop to the pillow. For the first time since Jacob’s death, I cried happy tears at the fond memories of Jacob catching me with the “pillow sub.”

  “I don’t know, Liz. I just can’t go back to the club. Jacob and I belonged there ever since we got married. We have known most of the members for a long time.” I looked out the window next to the table we sat at and considered whether or not to admit what was on the tip of my tongue. “I just don’t want our mutual friends to see me in there playing around.”

  “Elise, those people are your friends. Many of them are like family to you.”

  “I know, and I don’t want them to know.”

  “They would understand and support you,” Liz countered.

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to go back to the club and worry about what people would think of me. Granted, what I did was my business, but still. After a few moments, Liz brought her cell phone to life and started to search for something.

  “Ah, here we go,” she announced when she found what it was that she had been looking for.

  Liz turned her phone around for me to see the contact information that she had pulled up. I briefly stared at the vaguely familiar name “James Brooks.” I knew I had heard Liz mention him before.

  “James is a good friend and a Top—”

  “I don’t need a Top,” I reminded her.

  “Just listen, Elise.” Liz paused until I dropped my irritated know-it-all expression. “James has been a Top at Club Oxygen up in L.A. for, oh let’s see, twenty-five years or so. He works with a lot of new members. James would be lovely for you to connect with. He could help you discover what you can do with that desire and yearning to dominate. He’s very experienced, and best of all, he’s not a member of our club. So, you could experiment without having to worry about bumping into anyone.”

  I considered what she was saying for a moment. It did sound very enticing.

  “Would you like me to contact him and give him a bit of your background?” Liz asked while I finished off my coffee.

  I shifted in my seat and felt the inseam of my yoga pants press against my clit. I was surprised to discover how wet I had become just thinking about the prospect of dominating. I took a deep breath and then nodded at Liz. A huge smile spread across her face as she began a text to James.

  “You’re going to love this, Elise.”

  “We’ll see. I will admit, it’s very exciting to think about.”

  “Exciting enough for you to need to go home and practice on that pillow?”

  A smile forced its way onto my face as I crossed my arms over my chest. It hadn’t escaped my notice that my nipples were aching. I had already decided that as soon as I got home, I would discipline that pillow sub.

  “Probably,” I laughed but nodded my head so she knew that I had intended to do just that.

  “Corset?” she asked with a smile.

  “Yes, I think my navy one will do.”

  “Stockings?”

  “Yes, though I’m not certain which ones.”

  “Boots?” Liz asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “Of course,” I said with a smile.

  “Strap-on?” Liz inquired.

  I laughed out loud and nudged myself forward in my chair so I could feel the dampness and pressure. I couldn’t believe how soaked I was just sitting here talking about playing out my fantasies.

  “Maybe,” I teased back.

  Liz slapped her hand down on the table and nodded while laughing.

  “Good, Elise. You go home and get that pillow sub in line. I’ll talk with James and give him your contact information.”

  “Thank you, Liz.”

  We walked to the parking lot together, and Liz mentioned that she felt she needed to go home and take a little time for herself. ‘Taking a little time’ was our code phrase for playing with ourselves. When Liz hugged me before I got into my car, I noticed those aching nipples of mine even more.

  The car ride home was agonizing, and I continually moved my hips forward against the tightness of my pants. Since I had an SUV, I sat up higher than most cars and didn’t think twice about sliding my finger along the dampness of the pants. My pussy lips felt puffy, and though I refused to touch my clit, I was well aware that it was engorged.

  When I got inside, I went straight to the closet, where my corsets hung on beautiful satin hangers. I had visited this closet many other times since Jacob’s death, but I had never
been able to actually pull a corset out. Today, there was no hesitation, and that alone excited me. I pulled out my navy silk corset with the black lace. This was one of the few that I currently had where I could put on entirely on my own. I hung the hanger on the old-fashioned coat and hat rack that was next to my vanity.

  From a drawer that was inside the vintage armoire, I pulled out a pair of black lace stockings. These were one of my favorites because the crotch could open. There were a few tiny delicate snaps that, when tugged on just right, would expose my pussy.

  I quickly shed all of my clothes and glanced at my drenched panties before tossing them to the side. I opened another drawer in the armoire and quickly found a medium-sized beige dildo. Sheer excitement pumped through my body as I ran my finger along the veins. I set it on the vanity and pulled on the stockings up most of the way and then reached for the dildo. I propped my right foot upon the floral upholstered vanity bench and pushed the thick, veiny cock inside. It felt incredible. I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the feeling before I pulled my stockings up the rest of the way.

  I stood in front of the mirror of the vanity and stared at myself. Since Jacob’s death, I had occupied my time with working out and taking good care of my body. I was damn proud of myself and thought my body looked the best it had ever looked. For a moment, I thought about snapping a picture and sending it to Liz. We used to do that a lot to get opinions from one another before going to the club. Liz and I had actually played with one another on occasion as well, so sending a partially naked picture wouldn’t be odd or out of the norm for us, but we hadn’t done anything or sent pictures since Jacob’s death.

  I worked my way into the beautiful corset and then stood in front of the mirror again to admire how fabulous that I looked in it. My hands rubbed under my breasts against the silk and lace. I loved the way they felt in the confinements of the corset. The top of the corset was adorned with a fringe of lace that tickled my cleavage when I moved my shoulder. I stepped into my thigh-high leather boots and stared in the mirror.

  “Looking sharp,” I said under my breath.

  I reached for my cell phone and took a few pictures in a few different poses. I sent them to Liz without second-guessing myself.

  Elise: How do I look?

  Liz: Hot as hell! Where’s the strap-on?

  I laughed out loud at her text back and went back to the armoire. I opened another drawer and pulled out the strap-on harness and the dildo that went with it. I stepped into the harness, attached the dildo, and took a look at myself in the vanity mirror.

  Hot!

  I sent Liz a picture and then went back to the closet. Hanging over the neck of a hanger was the leather wrist strap to Jacob’s crop. Whenever I dressed up and reprimanded the pillow sub, I always took Jacob’s crop. I brought the handle to my nose and took a deep breath to see if Jacob’s scent remained. I smiled as I recognized the scent on the handle.

  Proudly, I held Jacob’s crop in my right hand and looked in the mirror. No longer was I afraid or timid about embracing my dominant side. I was ready to live again.

  I dressed in the navy corset that I wore the other afternoon, and some sheer black stockings before making my way to Club Oxygen in the Hollywood area. With the usual Friday night traffic, it had been nearly an hour-long drive from my home in Riverside. But I had been adamant about not wanting to go to the club where Jacob and I belonged, so this was the price I was willing to pay for the anonymity.

  Liz had told me of the conversation that she had had with James a few days ago, so I knew that he was up to speed on what I wanted to experience. I spoke to James yesterday on the phone, as well, and I think we went over much of what Liz had talked to him about. I understood that he needed to hear it from me, though. I told him that I often dressed up and would act out some of my fantasies with a pillow. We spoke about limits and if I would be willing to negotiate a session on my first visit to Club Oxygen. I told him that I would be open to that option, but that I mostly wanted to see the club.

  James seemed very meticulous and thorough when we talked on the phone, and I had hoped that when I meet him face to face tonight that it wouldn’t be awkward to talk to him or be around him. I was to meet him in the lounge area at 7:00, and he said he would be in black pants and a gray button-up shirt. From pictures that Liz sent me, I also had a good idea of exactly who I was meeting with tonight.

  After presenting my identification, I went into the lounge and looked around. Off to the side, I saw James speaking to an intriguing skinny young man. His shirtless pale skin had bandages covering a few places on his chest and arms. Around his neck, he wore a thin red necklace that looked to be made of some material other than metal. The young man stood in his underwear and listened as James spoke to him. From where I stood, it didn’t appear to be a lecture, but from the scowl on the young man’s face, it looked like he was taking it as being reprimanded. Though I couldn’t hear what James was saying, I could hear that his voice was calm and even.

  Suddenly, the brain of the Domme in me kicked in, and I began to wonder what he had done. What had his behavior warranted? I conjured up ideas and started to feel the dampness between my legs. I imagined this naughty young man draped over my lap, taking the spanking he deserved.

  Just then, James turned and gestured toward the stairs to the young man and saw me at the same time. He smiled and motioned me over. I felt awkward as I approached because I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. I joined them but still stayed at a distance just beyond their space.

  “Elise,” James said with a smile and stepped toward me. He held out his hand and introduced himself, “James Brooks. It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “Thank you so much for meeting with me tonight,” I said as I shook James’ outstretched hand.

  He had an incredible smile, and he oozed charisma. James was dressed as though he had just come from a day in the office but had shed a tie in his car. Somehow, I didn’t think that had been the case, though. In the five or so minutes that I had been there, I determined that James was the kind of man always cared about and took time with his appearance. Tall with dark hair and a salt and peppered beard, James Brooks was a strikingly handsome man.

  James took a step to the side, opening up the space between the young man he had been talking to and me. He held his hand up to shoulder level, and the young man stepped forward.

  “Elise, this is Brandon. He is a new bottom at the club and under my care.” James said to me and then looked at the young man. “Brandon, this is Elise. She’s here to explore her interest in topping.”

  Brandon nodded at me and smiled.

  “Hello, ma’am, it’s good to meet you,” Brandon greeted me politely.

  Ma’am.

  The way Brandon looked at me when he learned that I was in a dominant role, sent a throbbing thrill straight to my clit. Just with that look from Brandon, I knew that I had made the right decision to finally give this a try.

  “Nice to meet you as well, Brandon,” I replied with a smile.

  “Brandon, you may go watch some sessions, but you are not to remove your necklace. Understood?” James took hold of the red, tightly woven necklace while he waited for Brandon’s response.

  “Yes, Sir,” Brandon replied.

  Brandon nodded again to me and then walked toward the stairs. As Brandon walked away, I couldn’t help but notice that his back was covered in various shades of marks and bandages.

  “He didn’t obtain any of those markings from anyone here at the club,” James offered up when he saw that I was watching Brandon.

  James motioned to a set of two wingback chairs near a window. I took one of the chairs, and then he sat across from me. Just as he opened his mouth to begin talking, another man walked by with his sub or bottom in tow. The man stopped by the table that separated our seats and held his hand out toward James. As they shook hands, James stood, and they greeted one another.

  “What’s going on, James?” the man asked. Before
James had the chance to reply, the man turned to me. “Excuse my interruption. Just stopping by to say hello,” the man said with a grin.

  “Harold, this is Elise. She’s exploring an interest in topping,” James said.

  I stood and took hold of his outstretched hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Harold,” I took the cue from James to say something.

  “Wonderful, welcome to our club. You’re in excellent hands with James,” Harold said as he patted my hand. When he let go, he slapped James on the back and then walked toward the stairs with the young woman he was with.

  James gestured toward my seat, and we sat down again. Clearly, he was quite a popular man here. And I was beginning to see why. He was held in high regard with the members, and the fact that he was incredibly handsome didn’t hurt either.

  “Does everyone know you, if you don’t mind my asking?” I boldly asked.

  James laughed and leaned back in his seat. “I mentor a lot, both for Tops and Doms, and bottoms.”

  “Do you partake in play as well?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

  This man was incredibly hot, and obviously knew what he was doing. Liz had told me that he didn’t have his own submissive, though. In the short amount of time that I’ve known him, face to face, I didn’t understand how he didn’t have his own.

  “I do play on occasion, though most of the sessions that I participate in are from a teaching vantage point. I love what I do, and I am very happy. I currently have three bottoms under my care and protection,” James began.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” I asked.

 

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