Dance for Me

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Dance for Me Page 16

by Kay Elle Parker


  “Tell me the truth. Are you frightened of Connie or of what she might get you to say?”

  The bitch flickered back to life. “I’m not frightened of anything.”

  “No? Then we don’t have a problem, do we?”

  She growled.

  “Enough.” Although he kept the volume down, his tone was sufficiently sharp to halt several people and conversations in their tracks. He skirted around them, weaving through them, as he struggled with the urge to flip her over the nearest piece of furniture and turn her derriere red. “One thing you won’t do is intimidate me, little one. Flash those teeth, snap and snarl and growl, you won’t assert your dominance over mine.” He leaned down, risking her teeth, and whispered, “Because you’re not dominant, Boadicea. You are submissive.”

  He counted his blessings he made it to the walkway before she started fighting him. She really did get mad when she heard something she didn’t like. “Gonna sleep like a baby tonight, little one.”

  “I’m walking out of the fucking room as soon as you’re gone!”

  Braun just nodded. “Of course, you are. So long as you can get past Connie.”

  “If she lays so much as a hand on me—”

  “Oh, Bodie. Bodie, Bodie, Bodie,” he said sympathetically as he kicked open the door to his office and walked inside, “the Mistress won’t have to.”

  *

  “The Mistress won’t have to what?”

  Bodie bucked, scrabbling to get out of the thick, warm blanket she’d all but nested in. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned the rest of her evening, and she cursed herself for letting Braun set her up. She’d walked into his trap without thinking, and now she was well and truly screwed.

  Why hadn’t she just kept quiet like she usually did and played along with being the nice, sated submissive he expected instead of kicking off with an attitude? The attitude always landed her in hot water, and now she was in up to her neck.

  She couldn’t backpedal her way out of it, even though all she wanted was to go back to cuddling on Braun’s lap.

  “Boadicea’s feeling somewhat insecure about this,” Braun explained, sounding completely unruffled. “I think she believes you might have torture devices hidden away.”

  Connie laughed and walked over to them. A sultry, seductive glide across the carpet in another pair of killer heels. “No torture devices to hand, I’m afraid. I wasn’t exactly prepared to work tonight.” There was a note of censure in her tone. “Besides, you won’t give me a spot of bother, will you, sweetheart?”

  Bodie’s body flattened into Braun’s of its own volition. The woman had a lethal voice, all soft and calm and soothing. It wound its way into Bodie, skating like a balm over open wounds. “I’m leaving now.”

  “So soon?” Connie smiled sadly. “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to having a girlie chat; it’s been too long since I had a good natter with someone without decades of testosterone surging through their veins.”

  Braun grunted.

  “Why don’t you take a seat on the couch and we can have a proper introduction? I’d like to get to know you better as a person if Braun’s going to keep you on as the club dancer. You’ve made quite the impression on the club, Bodie, and the members are thrilled we’ve got someone so talented willing to entertain us.”

  Braun carried her over to the couch where a cozy heap of pillows waited. He laid her down, tucking the blanket around her so she didn’t flash her nakedness—because, goddamn him, she was absolutely without a stitch of clothing—before he bent and kissed her sweetly. “I won’t be far away, little one. All you have to do is shout.”

  As he straightened, her hand whipped out of the blanket and latched onto his. “I’m not staying here with her! I changed my mind. Please, please don’t leave me here.”

  “Shush, Bodie. Give it twenty minutes. Twenty, that’s all I’m asking.”

  Nuh-uh. Who knew how much information the woman could siphon from her in that time frame? Connie was a Domme for God’s sake, she probably chewed up mere mortals like Bodie for breakfast and went whistling on her carnivorous way.

  “Five,” she argued. She could stand her ground against the Mistress for five minutes. Her once immaculate inner fort might be in ashes after Braun destroyed it, but she still had her pride to guard.

  “Twenty-five.”

  She goggled at him. ”What? No!”

  “Thirty.”

  Oh, the dirty, rotten bastard. I see your game. “Braun, this isn’t funny. I’ll stay for ten minutes, okay? Ten minutes and then I’m going home.”

  “Thirty-five. And little one, you’re not going home tonight.”

  Even though she recognized he added time for her responses, she couldn’t help herself. “You can’t just dictate my life, Braun. If I say I’m going home, I’m going home whether you like it or not.”

  Gently, he pried her fingers off his hand, making her feel like he’d just cut them off. The sense of loss through severing that simple connection was appalling. “For one, I can dictate your life when you make idiotic decisions that put your health and safety at risk. Driving home tonight is foolish and unnecessary when there's a bed in my house you can bunk on.”

  “I am not sleeping in your bed.”

  “Forty-five. My bed is an option; however I was referring to the guest bed. For another, it would please me if you would stay. Tonight hasn’t been the easiest, and I want to make sure you’re all right before you return to your solitary existence.”

  Damn him. “If you’d asked, I would’ve thought about it.”

  Braun grinned and ran his hand over her hair, gave her disheveled ponytail a brief tug. “No, my obstinate little one, you wouldn’t. Enjoy your fifty minutes with Connie.” He patted her head as she spluttered at him, then walked over to the visitor’s chair where she’d left her clothes neatly folded when she’d changed earlier. Scooping them up, he said to Connie, “She’s naked under the blanket. Make sure it remains in here even if Boadicea doesn’t.”

  What the hell did he mean by... “You asshole! Give me my clothes!”

  “That was your last free shot at swearing at me, Boadicea.” The stern Dominant rose swiftly to the surface and glared at her. “Only because this is a stressful situation. The next time you call me—or Connie—a disrespectful name, my palm will make a full and thorough introduction to your backside. I expect my subs to be polite if nothing else.”

  With her escape plan bundled under his arm, Braun nodded curtly at the Mistress, then strode from the office, shutting the door behind him with an ominously angry snick.

  For several seconds, Bodie waited for him to return. He just needed a few minutes to realize this was a mistake, that was all. He’d think it over, kick himself for being an ass, and come back to rescue her. They’d brush off this therapy nonsense and he’d let her snuggle back onto his knees, and they’d forget this horrible interlude.

  Miserably, Bodie swiped at her face. Her hands came back wet.

  Connie sighed and quietly carried the visitor’s chair over to the couch. She sat down, perched one heeled foot on the opposite knee, and folded her hands. “Do you know,” she began, “Braun is head over heels for you?”

  Disgusted by the tears rolling down her cheeks, Bodie snorted. “Hah. I’m a challenge for him. An unwritten book in a library full of volumes he’s probably already read.”

  “He’s played with a few submissives, yes, as have we all. But while he’s not a mean or abusive Master in any shape or form, he has never been known for having the unlimited depth of patience he’s exhibiting with you. That tells me you’re something special, Bodie, on many levels.”

  “He’ll get bored of me sooner or later. If he wants special, I’m not it.”

  “I disagree. The blanket you’re clutching like a lifeline? He bought it for you, Bodie. Especially for you. He’s never done that before.”

  “All the...subs in the club have one. I’ve seen them.”

  “Look again,” Connie
advised. “The club provides standard subbie aftercare blankets. They’re lovely, can’t argue with that. Soft, comforting, but uniform. Each one is the same, bought in bulk. Every night, they’re washed, dried, pressed, and folded for the next evening. Yours is top quality. Faux fur with the velvet plush on the inside. Expensive. He bought you something that makes you stick out from the crowd. Because he wants the rest of us to know how special you are to him, and because he wants you to feel adored. Cherished.”

  Bodie fondled the cloud-soft material. “He’ll just give it to the next one he takes when I’m nothing but an ugly memory.”

  “Knowing the man for as long as I have, I can honestly say he won’t. He sees you as his. Staked his claim on you. He will worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart, unless you continue pushing him away. So my question is, why are you?”

  Weren’t they supposed to tackle polite small talk before the woman smacked her with the heavy shit? “I don’t know.”

  Liar, liar, panties on eternal fire.

  “Oh, you do. All the answers are in you, Bodie. You and I are going to dig deep and pull them out, one by one. We won’t manage to get all of them into the open tonight; I fear that’s an impossible task. The problem with repressing key events in your life, sweetheart, is that no matter how hard you keep bouncing on them and shoving more into the vault, those suckers will just stage an uprising and burst free to cause pain and havoc.”

  As edgy as she felt, Connie’s understanding tone pulled Bodie into a weird place. One where maybe she wasn’t alone with what was going on inside her, where there was someone who had personal experience with the hell she suffered.

  “Have you...”

  “I’ve been there. Got the emotional scars to prove people don’t always need to be so damn strong to be at peace with themselves. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, trust me, not only learning how to get out of the habit of tossing all the bad stuff into that vault, but extracting the dead crap already in there. The toxic crap that will stop you having a future, of finding happiness. It takes courage to begin, and the will to carry on through the rough times, but it’s worth it.”

  “You’re a Domme,” Bodie pointed out bitterly. “You are strong.”

  Connie laughed. “Actually, I’m a switch, sweetheart. Do you know what that is?”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Ever on guard. A switch is a person who is both dominant and submissive. For the most part, I prefer having the control over my scenes. Giving orders, establishing the rules, guiding a scene from conception to fruition...it’s a heady rush, having that kind of power over someone who voluntarily surrenders it. However, there are times when I feel the urge to be the one who has the power stripped away. To hand over my worries and doubts, to kneel beside a good, solid Dominant, and know he will take care of everything. I’m just as strong as a submissive as I ever am as a Domme.”

  “Doesn’t it make you feel stupid? Going from being in charge to being the one taking orders and giving yourself to someone for their own pleasure?”

  “Their pleasure is my pleasure. You had your first scene tonight. Both in general and with Braun. Did he make you come?”

  Bodie grimaced. “I...he did something.”

  Connie nodded. “You’re not too pleased with what he did, I take it? We’ll come back to that. Did he come?”

  The flush heating her skin could’ve melted gold. “I don’t know.”

  “I can tell you. The man has blue balls after that scene, sweetheart. I’ve heard all about it—and it won’t go further than me, although you gathered quite the audience toward the end. What happens here doesn’t get spoken of beyond these walls,” she reminded her gently. “That’s what the NDA is for. Back to Braun. He sent you into subspace with the mother of all orgasms, and then he stepped straight into aftercare mode. While you were semi-conscious and vulnerable, he didn’t let you out of his sight. Neither did the poor man get any relief of his own. Your pleasure, your orgasm and the journey getting you there, was his pleasure.”

  A small bubble of panic sat just behind her sternum. She’d been watched? While she...while he...oh fuck. Bodie wrapped the blanket—her blanket—tighter around her, her skin twitching as though eyes devoured her from the shadows in the room.

  “Th-that was a private moment.” She succeeded in untangling her tongue to speak, even if her traitorous voice exposed the raw nerves Connie’s revelation agitated. “B-Braun allowed it? Why w-would he do something like that?”

  The Mistress’s raised foot lowered to the carpet and she leaned forward, eyes inquisitive. “I remember being just as nervous the first time I submitted in front of my peers, sweetheart. Is it the nakedness that bothers you or the fear of being judged?”

  This is why I hate motherfucking shrinks.

  Somehow, she spilled her guts without giving her mouth permission to work. “He had his fingers inside me, and his mouth...” She gestured wildly to her lower half wildly beneath the blanket. “There. Does that not constitute a private act anymore?”

  Connie’s head tilted. “Where did he have his mouth, sweetheart?”

  “There!” Frustrated, Bodie gestured again.

  “I need you to use your words, Boadicea. Where did Braun touch you?”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You know where.”

  “Indulge me, sweetheart.”

  What the hell had Braun called it? Panda? Pooch? Puma...nope, that wasn’t it. Possum? The longer she hesitated, the more intense the Mistress’s gaze became. “I, ah...” Come on, before she asks questions you don’t have the answers to, like usual. “Why do I have to say it?”

  “It tells me a lot about your sexual confidence, Bodie, and right now you’re screaming you don’t have any. You have a beautiful body, sweetheart, you need to own it. Every inch, head to toe, including your pussy.” Connie’s gray eyes were like quiet storms, patiently waiting. “I can see you doubt that. Do you think Braun is only interested in you for your cunt, Boadicea?”

  Bodie recoiled. She hated that fucking word so much she wanted to scrub it off the face of the earth with bleach, hot water, and a polish of dynamite. “Don’t use that word,” she hissed vehemently.

  Connie hummed lightly and eased back. “Now I wish I’d brought my notebook. Hang on a second.” She rose and, kicking off her heels, padded to Braun’s desk. She rummaged through his drawers until she found a notepad and pen. Flicking it open, amusement flashed over her face. “Gave you lines, did he? He’s a smart man, your Master.”

  “He’s not my Master.” Yes, he is. Stop denying it.

  Brooding, embarrassed the evidence of her first punishment had come to light, Bodie buried herself in the mound of cushions. Braun was going to pay for this, big time.

  Chapter Nine

  Mortification knew no bounds when Connie was in charge. It just swelled and multiplied with every second, and every second lasted a lifetime as the Mistress scribbled quickly on a fresh page of the notepad. No doubt she was chronicling Bodie’s faults down to the last hair in her tousled ponytail.

  “Have fifty minutes passed yet?”

  “Nope.” Connie’s eyes didn’t lift from the paper, the scribbling didn’t slow, but she popped the p expertly. “Lots of time still to go, Boadicea.”

  “How do you know?” Bodie demanded. “You haven’t even looked at a clock!”

  “Because fifty-minute hours are my livelihood. There’s an alarm clock in my head,” the Mistress answered absently. She tapped the end of the pen on her full lips, then rested her hand on her thigh. “Let’s explore the negative connotations you associate with the word cunt, Bodie. That was an incredibly negative reaction.”

  I hate it because it’s a horrible, demeaning, vile word.

  “What’s to like about it?” Bodie snarked, suddenly feeling cornered in her corner of the couch. “Surely there has to be a less offensive term for...that.”

  “Several,” Connie told her with a sly smile. “Coochie, beaver, vajay
jay, lady garden, snatch, muff, honeypot—”

  “Stop it!” Bodie slapped her hands over her ears until she saw Connie’s lips stop moving. Warily, she lowered them and glared at the Mistress. “That wasn’t funny.”

  Completely unapologetic, Connie’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s a vagina, Bodie. Everyone calls it something different, not all of them pleasant to others’ ears, but it’s part of what makes us women. It’s the gateway to creation, literally. It’s a source of immense fun, great pain, and has several functions. I’m not sure this aversion you have to yours is healthy.”

  She’d survived this long without difficulty, hadn’t she? She hadn’t died or gotten sick from not using the damn thing. “I don’t see what business that has to do with you or anyone else.”

  Connie lifted her spread hands with an arched eyebrow. “It’s Braun’s business, sweetheart, and he in turn has enlightened my life and made it mine. Think about where you are and what you are to Braun. Sex is everywhere here; sex usually requires an orifice in which to copulate. One fan favorite orifice is the vagina. Tell me what you felt when Braun performed oral sex on you.”

  No fucking way. Just remembering his mouth on her made her wet and antsy. Reliving that memory...yeah, not happening. Folding her metaphorical arms stubbornly over her chest, Bodie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s fine. Luckily for you, I’m a nice therapist. Time spent in silence isn’t counted toward the fifty minutes, so you can take as long as you to reflect on the question.” Connie wiggled deeper into the chair, making herself comfortable, and simply linked her fingers together in her lap.

  She didn’t say anything else.

  Wait, what? Bodie sat up right, mouth open. “You can’t do that!”

  “Of course, I can. Technically, this isn’t my office, but my rules most certainly apply. We’re here for a reason, one I was led to believe you approved of, and once I have a goal in mind, I’m pretty much set on achieving it. So, you have three options, sweetheart.”

 

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