Forever More

by Rachel De Lune

  I open my legs to him, giving him the access I want him to have. The tension is building in me, and right now, I’d love for Seb to take over and make me forget my concerns. Well, isn’t that a contradiction?

  “You want me to make you come, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” is the only reply in my mind right now.

  “Good girl. But tonight is going to very intense for both of us. Thinking about having you spread bare for me is going to be torturous for me all day. Spread your legs as wide as you can and keep them there. Don’t move.” Seb quickly repositions himself in between my legs, his intentions now very clear. I hold my thighs, forcing myself to keep my legs wide for him. He doesn’t want me to move. Determined to keep to his command over my body’s need to move, I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply. I can do this. Concentrate. Seb’s gaze rakes over my flesh, his eyes dazzling, and he locks with mine as he leans down to tongue my clit. He sweeps slowly up and down, so softly it almost tickles. He assaults me with his mouth, lapping and sucking and coating me with his saliva. My gasps and moans ricochet around the room and my hips press his mouth into me harder. My orgasm is spiralling, along with the desire to keep my legs wide and ride his face.

  I will him on, desperate to feel the release that will soothe my nerves. Seb’s tongue goes exploring, not leaving any part of my pussy alone. Yes, just… a little…

  His pause interrupts my panting breaths. His cock thrusts inside of me hard and fast, and it propels me over. I cry out and grasp hold of Seb. He continues his punishing rhythm and I’m swept along with it, giving in to him. Seb has mastered me and it’s exactly what I want and need. He continues his rhythm, carrying me along with him.

  “God, yes!” Seb stills, releasing into me, and I slump back into the bed.

  Since leaving Seb this morning, I’ve not been able to settle or master my growing apprehension. The bubbly anxiety, not the dread that sits in the pit of your stomach. My fingers take the brunt of the nerves, drumming on the desk every few minutes.

  Finally, the clock hands move and I hear a bing from my phone.

  I’ll be waiting outside in 5 mins. S

  Reading the words sends my pulse into orbit. The unknown is both exciting and terrifying. Seb wants to push my boundaries, so I know it won’t be something we’ve done already. A shiver creeps up my spine. I walk to the bathroom to change. I lock the cubicle, unzip the bag and pull out the dress that Seb wants me to wear. Holy shit! I’d never buy something like this. I rummage at the bottom of the bag, looking for the underwear that will accompany the dress. Of course, there isn’t any.

  I stuff the dress back into the garment bag and head down to the reception bathroom. There is no way I’m walking through my office dressed in this. Once safely inside the ladies room, I pull the offending article back out. I lift it out, and a swathe of deep red fabric drapes against my body, not even close to skimming my knee. The length isn’t the problem. The lack of fabric is. Backless is an accurate description, and it’s far more revealing than anything I would ever wear.

  Seb chose this for me with very clear instructions. I flex my ankle and feel the tiny chain against my skin, signifying my submission. It’s just a dress.

  I quickly change out of my appropriate work wear and slip the silky material over my head. It drops to my mid-thigh, with wide shoulders allowing the material to drape open and expose my back. The back plunges so low that the top of my knickers will be clearly visible. There’s certainly no way a bra is possible. Seb’s instructions were very specific. I wear only what he set out for me. That means no underwear. Crap!

  I can do this. I’ve sat at a bar without my knickers before. This is no different. It’s just a little bit more revealing. I diligently lose my bra and shimmy out of my knickers. To my shock, they’re damp, betraying my body’s pleasure at following Seb’s instructions, despite my reservations. Perhaps it’s my reservations that are making this so naughty.

  Easing into my sky-high heels, I pull myself up and stand tall. My nipples peak under the fabric, clearly on display, and I will them to soften. At the bottom of the garment bag is the jewellery box containing my anklet. My already stuttering heart pounds harder as I hold it in my hand. When I put this tiny piece of jewellery on, I give myself to Seb. I agreed to that and it helps to ground me—giving me a sense of purpose that helps my mind relax. By asking me to wear it, he knows that I’ll need the reassurance that it brings.

  I sweep some gloss over my lips, add a little mascara and shake my hair to add some volume. The self-consciousness halts me as I turn to exit. I can do this. I want to do this for Seb.

  Burying my anxiety, I walk out into reception. The chill doesn’t help make my breasts any less visible under the dress. Before I open the door, I can see Seb parked up outside, standing against the car. He spots me and I hurry out to meet him. The January air bites into my exposed skin as I rush to the car. He blocks my path. His eyes roam my body and it takes a moment for them to reach my eyes. Stepping aside, he opens the door and I do my best to slide in without flashing anyone. Seb rounds the car and joins me, adding to the already toasty temperature of the interior.

  “Good evening, Isabel.” Seb greets me with a deep rumble, and despite the warmer atmosphere, goose bumps trail over my skin.

  “Good evening, Sir.”

  He pulls out into traffic and doesn’t continue with the conversation. My adrenaline spikes again at his silence. He’s building the tension—or at least the tension in me. “Am I allowed to know where we’re going?”

  “Of course you are.” He doesn’t elaborate, though.

  “Will you tell where we’re going?”

  “I might if you ask me properly.” His lips twitch at his response.

  Fine.

  “Please, Sir, will you tell me where we’re going?”

  “Thank you, Isabel. Yes. I’m taking you to dinner.”

  Dinner? Dressed like this? I nervously pull at the hem of my dress, which has risen to indecent heights now I’m sitting down.

  “Stop the nerves, Isabel. I asked you to trust me.” With his words, Seb places a hand on my thigh and gently squeezes. It stills my nervous twitch and I draw strength from his warmth.

  Seb’s contact doesn’t break for the rest of the journey. We drive past the outskirts of town and into the country. The roads narrow and turn more twisty until we turn into a driveway and stop at a large iron entry gate. Seb waits for a moment and the gates open. The gates tell me to expect a grand mansion house at the end of the driveway. Instead, a large, modern, cottage-style house sits there. Two outside lamps illuminate a bay for several cars and the way to the entrance. Ivy covers most of the outside stone work, but I can’t tell much else in the shadows. The small windows are camouflaged in foliage.

  We drive up and Seb parks. He hands me out of the car and leads me closer. I see shadows of what must be extensions to the original building. I can’t help but hope that I will get to see it in the light of day. It must be stunning.

  The exterior of the cottage holds my attention until we’re standing at the solid oak door. Seb presses the buzzer and I’m brought back to the present. I shift toward him, seeking reassurance. His arm snakes around my back, brushing against my flesh, and draws me closer. The heavy door swings open and we’re greeted by a tall, slim gentleman dressed in a tidy suit.

  “Good evening, Mr. York. If you’d like to follow me, your table is waiting.” Seb ushers me forward and I follow the gentleman into the cottage. Once inside, there is no evidence of the cottage-style house or ivy running rampant over the outside. Smooth marble flows from the doorstep out into a reception area. Swathes of thick, rich material curtain the back wall and seclude us from anything that might be beyond. The room has a warm glow, a radiance about it. It makes me want to stand up tall and be confident walking into such a place.

  The gentleman leads us towards a frosted glass door, decorated by more furnishings, and opens it for us. We enter a room set with a dozen small, int
imate tables, the only light being cast from the candles on the tables.

  Several other couples are already seated, and I stiffen in Seb’s arms.

  “Shh, you’re doing fine. You look amazing, and if they stare, it will be because of that and nothing else,” Seb whispers to me, and the words cast a magical trance over me. Even though Seb chose the dress, hearing him tell me that he thinks I look good helps my confidence to no end. Breathing in, I take a sure step onto the hardwood floor, my heels clicking loudly as I walk towards our table. I take the seat the gentleman is holding out for me, but Seb doesn’t let our contact slip and keeps my hand in his as we sit down. We’re at right angles to each other at the small round table.

  “The specials tonight are line-caught sea bass with mushrooms and oyster foam, pork tenderloin with salt-baked celeriac and apple sauce or hazelnut gnocchi. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “A bottle of sparkling water, please.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I rearrange myself on the chair, wiggling to try to conceal more of my legs with the skirt of the dress. His gentle rub on the back of my hand is soothing, making me forget that I’m not wearing anything that would be classed as decent in my book. The ambience is intimate—a secret rendezvous between lovers. I can’t help but respond to the surroundings and the fact that I’m here at the wishes of Seb.

  Embers of desire spark to life as I look at him across the small table. Candlelight warms his face and illuminates his shining eyes. He looks pleased. I can’t control my answering smile.

  “I want you to know that tonight is going to be as much a test for me as it is for you. I wanted to bring you here to explain certain things. About me, and about us. But you’ll have to be patient. Trust me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I think. Are you going to tell me where we are or what we’re doing here? Besides having dinner?”

  His lips harden and he huffs out a breath.

  “Sir, are you going to tell me why we’re here, Sir?” I don’t mean to forget, but with the circumstances as they are, and not being in the bedroom, it keeps slipping my mind.

  “We’re here to enjoy an evening together, and to press the previous boundaries of our relationship. I told you I would. I love having you as my submissive and I want to explore it further. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  Those few words melt my heart, and I know that whatever happens tonight, I can give Seb something he’s always wanted. Why is pleasing him so important to me?

  “Excuse me, sir. Your water. Are you ready to order?” My thoughts are interrupted by the gentleman waiter. I haven’t even thought about the menu or picked it up from the table.

  “I’ll have the sea bass, please. My guest, the gnocchi.”

  “Very good. Thank you, sir.” He disappears as silently as he approached. As my eyes follow his retreat, I glance at the others around the room. Three other couples are engaged in quiet conversation. I look a little harder and notice that all the women are wearing a minimal amount of clothes with plunging necklines or raised hems. The men are all dressed in smart suits. My dress fits in perfectly. I turn my attention back to Seb and catch him watching me. Intently.

  “Your emotions flit across your face. I love it, but I’d like you to tell me how you feel.” He reaches for his water and takes a measured sip. I am learning that talking to Seb is important. It helps us and I shouldn’t be frightened to share. But it is so hard sometimes!

  “Well, I wanted to look around the room, try and feel more comfortable as I’m not sure where we are. All the other women are dressed like me or similarly—lots of flesh. It made me feel… safer. Less on display.”

  “Good girl. You don’t mind me ordering for you.” I don’t miss that it isn’t a question. I like that Seb takes control of the small things. It makes me feel important, special, that he knows me well enough to order for me.

  “No. I like it when you do.”

  He beams at my response.

  “Have you been here before, Sir?”

  “Yes, but not for a little while.” Seb only ever gives small crumbs of information to me, and I’m desperate to lick up every single one of them. I raise my eyebrows and look expectant.

  “The sea bass, and the gnocchi.”

  Seb grins as the waiter sets down our food, knowing that I would have pressed for more. It smells delicious and I remind myself of the jewellery adorning my ankle. Today is not the day to press him.

  At the end of our meal, Seb stands and offers his hand to help me rise. He gently leads me from our table to the other end of the restaurant. Frosted glass doors seal off the dining room from the room beyond. Several more couples arrived during our meal, and their attire forms what amounts to a uniform—the men in well-tailored suits and the women in barely-there cocktail dresses. As we approach the door, another suited staff member pulls it open for us.

  We’re back in a reception area of sorts. There are open areas branching off from this main space, also adorned with fabric and curtains, making them seem more private. There are a few leather sofas and wooden drinks tables to one side. Seb pulls me closer to him as he moves me to one of the areas. As it opens out, it appears to be a bar. A few plush sofas are scattered in the corners, creating cosy areas. The lighting is soft and minimal, helping the ambience from the restaurant to follow into the larger space.

  Two tall, elegant ladies walk past and I battle my instinct to cower against Seb. Their beauty stirs my insecurities about other women. We don’t go into the bar but steer around to another alcove room. This one is more secluded and has opulent floor cushions and pillows scattered around several winged back chairs. A man sits in one of them with a curvaceous woman at his feet. The scene reminds me of the times I sat at Seb’s feet. I want that!

  I feel the pressure of Seb’s hand against my flesh but I want to resist it. I want to watch these two. My embarrassment is overcome by my own curiosity. Something about this couple makes me want to stay. The room isn’t closed off, nor are they hiding behind any curtain or screen.

  “Come on, Isabel.” Seb’s hushed voice doesn’t hide the command behind it. My feet start moving forward, although the destination isn’t clear. We appear to be touring all of the rooms that are connected to the reception. I think back to the ‘cottage’ that I thought I was entering when we arrived. Where has all this space come from?

  “What is this place?” It certainly isn’t just somewhere to have dinner. I would guess it to be an exclusive club.

  “It’s called Solace. It’s a place that caters to Dominant and submissive needs. I want to show you part of this lifestyle.” My feet are able to keep moving although my mind has completely tuned out. I think it stopped working when I concluded that this was a club. Seb’s been here before—likely with other submissives. Now he wants me to do what I thought was private between us observed by others? My mind is racing and I’m suddenly scared to obey him. What if I don’t like what’s on the other side of the door?

  For the first time, I seriously consider saying ‘Black’, my safeword.

  “Don’t tense up on me. I can feel your body’s reaction. I need you to trust me. Nothing is going to happen that you’re not happy with.” His words take the edge off. Seb grabs my hand and turns me to face him. “Trust me.” Hot, sensual lips meet mine and I take refuge in his attention. I kiss him back, telling him that I will try. For Seb, I will try.

  “Follow me, sweetheart.” Seb pulls me protectively close and we walk swiftly through the rest of the reception area. He sets us toward a stone archway with a marble pillar running down one side of the arch. It looks like an entrance, with steps disappearing out of view. Trepidation seeps inside of me and I cling to Seb.

  “Remember your reaction to the couple you saw earlier? You liked what you saw. Keep that in mind.”

  The staircase spirals down and is lined by black, iron railings which I use to steady my steps. My heartbeat echoes the loud click that my heels make on the polished
stone. When we reach the bottom, we enter a small waiting area of sorts. Corridors lead off to the left and right. Seb pulls me to the right along the hallway.

  The lighting is much darker. What I thought of as intimate in the rooms above has been replaced by shadows and intrigue. Another frosted glass door blocks our path. Seb pulls me towards it, and out of the shadows, a suited employee opens our entry. His attire is more casual than upstairs—an open collar shirt with his sleeves rolled up. The doors open and the heavy bass beat drums in my ears. My eyes adjust to the lessening light and shadowy forms take shape. Dotted around the room are couples in various stages of undress and activity. Seb’s hand urges me to follow him deeper into the room. I recognise the sounds of hands slapping on flesh and the passionate moans that accompany them.

  I don’t want to look, but my traitorous body is warming to the feeling of being here. My eyes drift to each area as we pass. It’s not busy. Many of the ‘play areas’ are empty. A man is gently spanking his partner over his knee in a small nook halfway into the room. We don’t stop and I tear my eyes away from the woman’s pert bottom, open to whatever her partner wishes.

  The same feeling from earlier washes over me. I want that. My head might be reluctant, but my body’s eager. As my thighs sweep together, I feel moisture with every step.

  Benches, metal racks and PVC-covered tables make up some of the other equipment in the room. Seb slows in front of a wooden X. It towers over me, restraining the writhing woman who is cuffed to each corner point. I’ve seen images of a St. Andrew’s Cross, but I hadn’t expected the reality of it to be so… daunting. A shirtless, burly man distracts my view of the woman. He’s pacing in front of her like a lion, the flogger in his hand twitching with every step. My breath catches as I look back to the woman. A sheen flushes her skin. Her mouth hangs slack. Is this what I look like when Seb spanks me? Do I look as erotic, as hungry as she does for the strike?