“And how did this spark come about for you?” he asked, just as the waitress brought us our food. I paused in my response until she’d finished serving us and walked away.
“Well, I read a lot. I actually work with authors as a personal assistant, so I’ve read tons of stuff about it. I think it’s hot, exciting.”
“Are we talking about fiction or non-fiction though?”
“Well, fiction, erotic fiction.”
“Surely, you understand that most of those books are written by people with no practical experience in BDSM,” he said smugly. I stifled the urge to kick him under the table. He was just being thorough, no need for me to ruin this before we got started.
“So I’ve learned,” I muttered under my breath.
“From now on, you need to make an effort to speak clearly, Clarisse,” he said with a look I supposed was caution. “It’s pure imagination. Take Fifty Shades of Grey, for example. I read it to see how BDSM and power exchange was portrayed. I have to tell you, it was a very poor representation of our lifestyle. Very unrealistic. I’m not some billionaire who gets off on hurting girls, only to be cured by the love of a virgin. Wait, you’re not a virgin are you?”
“God, no. Far from. My boyfriend, er, I mean ex-boyfriend and I played around with a few toys, which I really enjoyed, but he can’t give me what I need.”
“Do you even know what you need?”
I sighed in frustration. Why didn’t anyone ever understand what I told them? Was it really so hard to believe that I wanted to be a submissive? Before I could respond, Ezekiel spoke again.
“Would you consider yourself a masochist?”
“What? Fuck, no. No nails through the nipples for me, thank you very much. I just like it rough,” I said, as his face grew dark, and displeased. I tilted up my chin and stared back at him. I hadn’t been disrespectful, what business did he have looking at me like that?
“I wasn’t referring to extreme forms of torture,” he said, his words clipped and precise. “But the things I’ll do will hurt, no doubt about it.”
“Not being experienced, I don’t know what my limits are yet, but there’s nothing like a bite of pain to enhance pleasure,” I replied with a smirk, trying to get things back on course.
Ezekiel continued to look at me thoughtfully. Just when I thought he was going to tell me to enjoy my food, then go home, he sighed and nodded.
“Very well. There’s really only one way to find out. We’ll try a few things to see how you respond, then go from there. Though I have my misgivings, I hope it works out. I’m looking for another submissive, and I think you’re cute. You definitely need a fair amount of training, but I’m a sucker for a challenge,” he said, that high-wattage grin firmly in place.
I bit down on my tongue. If he thought I was going to be part of a little harem for him, he was out of his mind. I checked him off the list of potential permanent partners, but given he was the only potential anything on my list, I kept quiet. He’d just be my teacher, that’s all.
“There’s an event at R&R tonight, and newcomers are welcome. I’ll escort you, and I’ll give you a few small tests to see what you think. How does that sound?”
I smiled widely. Now we were getting somewhere.
“I think that sounds spectacular.”
We chatted much more comfortably as we enjoyed our food. After arranging for him to pick me up at eight o’clock, we went our separate ways with another handshake.
* * *
Having forgotten to ask what to wear to this shindig, I went to the mall looking for something appropriate. Nothing in any of the stores seemed fitting for a night in a dungeon to me, so I did a quick Google search on my phone for local fetish shops. Picking the closest one from the vast array that popped up, I headed straight over.
I was overwhelmed by the vast selection of clothes and other items on display. I wanted to appear confident and experienced, but once again, I was miserably out of my depth. I ate a slice of humble pie and approached the sales clerk.
“Can I help you?” she asked. She had the look of a 1950s pin-up girl, complete with a curled updo, pale skin, and dark red lipstick. In contrast to her overall look, her arms were covered with full sleeve tattoos, and she had a piercing through one of her eyebrows and another through her lip. I wondered if I’d end up looking the same way after time in this culture. I highly doubted it. I was far too casual for that.
* * *
“Well, I’m, uh, I’m attending my first event at a local fetish club, and I need something to wear. I have no idea what’s appropriate for something like this.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got just what you need.” Her face broke into a wide, gleaming smile that should have put me on guard.
Two latex dresses, one short and red, one long and black, a vinyl catsuit, corset and pants, a pair of thigh-high leather boots and one credit card twenty-five hundred dollars heavier, I was on my way home with three shopping bags. I really hoped she hadn’t steered me wrong because I didn’t want to look like a wannabe on what amounted to my debut.
Taking a leap of faith, I took a shower and made myself up the way I thought someone in my position should look. I applied dark eyeshadow and tons of mascara with a light lip gloss. I’d debated on the scarlet lipstick again but decided against it. I didn’t know what Ezekiel would be wearing, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate lipstick marks on anything that didn’t come clean easily.
On one hand, I wanted to make a splash, but I thought the red dress might be too revealing the first time out since it barely covered my ass. If I sat down, the thing was likely to snap up over my hips, showing my goodies to everyone. I put on the black one, struggling to get the tight dress all the way down my body. Once I’d finally wiggled and squirmed my way into it, I wondered how the hell I was going to walk.
When Ezekiel finally arrived, I nearly tripped over myself as I tried to waddle to the door. Finally, I resorted to hopping to get there when he rang the bell a second time.
Opening the door, I was startled to find him standing there casually dressed in a black men’s tank-style undershirt, a pair of dress pants and suspenders, of all things. He had a large diamond earring in one lobe, which glinted brightly when the light hit it. I’d expected an outfit much like Gage’s costume at the masquerade ball, but since Ezekiel practically worked at the club, he had to know what was acceptable.
“Do I look okay?” I asked as I turned in a circle after letting him in.
“Fuck no. You look like a kinky mummy. Where the hell did you get this thing?”
“I bought an armload of stuff from a fetish store I found on the internet. The clerk helped me pick out several outfits,” I admitted sheepishly.
“I hate to break it to you, but you got taken,” he said with a regretful shake of his head. “I should have taken you shopping myself. Please tell me you bought something else, too.”
“Oh, I have a ton of stuff, only now I have to worry if any of it is at all appropriate.”
After returning to my room and peeling myself out of the mummy dress, I threw on my robe and carried my bags out to Ezekiel to inspect.
“This should do,” he said, picking out the vinyl corset. “Do you have a simple black skirt to wear with it?”
“I do. Give me two minutes, and I’ll be right back.”
I fished a body-hugging skirt out of the back of my closet. I hadn’t worn it in years, but when I put it on, it still fit like a glove. Once I’d figured out how to lace myself into the corset, I returned to Ezekiel, striking a pose.
“Sweetheart, don’t worry about trying to fit in. It’s obvious you’re new to everything, but no one is going to make fun of you. Just don’t wander off alone and don’t talk to anyone unless I say you may. Think you can do that?”
“I need your permission to speak to anyone, check,” I said with a little tilt of my head. He made a grim line of his lips in response but didn’t fire anything back at me. This one was a tough audience. One
day, I’d find a way to make him smile. I couldn’t imagine he’d be this serious all the damned time.
* * *
Ropes and Roses was buzzing when we got there. As Ezekiel said, we spent most of our time in the bar, taking up residence in a wide booth. I wanted to people watch, but he’d cautioned me about not acting like we were at a zoo. People may have dressed up in all manner of wild outfits, but apparently, only people who knew each other were allowed to openly admire one another. I kept giving furtive glances this way and that whenever I thought Ezekiel wouldn’t catch me.
I was taken completely aback when I caught sight of a familiar couple standing at the bar.
“Oh my God,” I breathed softly. “I can’t believe this.”
“What’s the matter, Clarisse?”
“That’s Gage Blackstone and Stacy Sanders at the bar. I can’t believe—” I said as I started to climb out of my seat. I felt the strong grip of Ezekiel’s hand on my arm.
“Do not speak to them or approach them, no matter how much you might want to. They’re here to enjoy themselves just like anyone else. Respect their privacy.”
I gave Ezekiel and irritated look as I shrugged off his hand which, judging by his expression, won me no favors with him.
“You don’t understand,” I replied. “I know them. I work for them as their assistant. I wonder what the fuck they’re doing here.”
I crossed the room quickly, coming right alongside Gage and shoving his shoulder. He was dressed casually, in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Stacy was wearing a simple black halter top and black skirt with modest black heels.
“What the hell, Gage?” I demanded when he turned to look at me. “What are you guys doing here?”
Stacy grabbed Gage’s arm and looped hers around it with a big smile.
“We’re doing research! I can’t believe I’m here. This place is awesome! You’re the last person I expected to find here tonight though. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
Gage looked me up and down, a distinct look of displeasure taking over his handsome features.
“I don’t suppose I have to ask you what you’re doing,” he said, a current of irritation lacing his voice. What the hell crawled up his ass?
“I’m here to enjoy the atmosphere tonight,” I replied, just as Ezekiel strode next to me, taking my arm and guiding me away.
“Clarisse, if this is going to work, you need to listen to me.”
“But I know them. That’s my boss and his wife. It would have been weird not to talk to them.”
Ezekiel shook his head, likely wondering what to do with me. I may have been his student for the night, but I’d be damned if I was going to let him control my every move.
“Come, let’s go check out the back rooms, see if anything interests you.”
We toured the main playroom while I tried not to gawk. I was keenly interested in the St. Andrews Cross, but it was occupied by a Domme and a man in a leather gimp mask. I felt sorry for the poor son of a bitch. It had to be murder trying to breathe in that thing. After watching me, Ezekiel finally led me to a less intimidating spanking bench.
“I think we’ll give this a try. Normally, I’d warm you up a little bit, but you’ve already earned yourself a disciplinary action for not listening to me.”
I swallowed hard, my nerves and excitement wrestling inside me when I realized it was time to take my first plunge even if it was into what I thought was the BDSM equivalent of the kiddie pool.
I thought I was going to choke when I received the call from Gage, informing me he’d just run into Clarisse at a local sex club. He’d insisted I come crash the joint because he thought she was about to get in over her head. I hadn’t been properly vetted by the club’s staff, but Gage assured me he’d get me in one way or another. I didn’t doubt the pull he had with management, so without even changing from my jeans and Homer Simpson t-shirt, I grabbed my wallet and had an Uber at my door within fifteen minutes.
Gage met me outside, Stacy standing next to him, clinging to his arm. He didn’t waste time making introductions, just put a hand on my shoulder and steered me in, slipping a c-note to the door monitor. I briefly wondered about the quality of the guests in the club if it was that easy to get security to look the other way. Gage led me into the playroom at large, all three of us scanning the room for my girl.
“There she is,” Stacy exclaimed over the sounds of industrial music and various moans and groans. Looking past a man fucking the hell out of a woman shackled to a suspension bar, I saw Clarisse awkwardly climbing onto a low bench, leaning over the padded surface, her behind in the air. The biggest African-American man I’d ever seen was helping her, running his hand over her ass and whispering into her ear.
My heart plummeted, and I nearly turned and walked away. If it was so easy for her to jump into something with someone else, maybe it wasn’t my place to try to prevent her from having a good time. Yet, something kept me rooted to the spot, and I remained watching as he cuffed her to the bench and whispered again in her ear. With no further warning, he pulled her skirt up around her waist, then left her thong-clad ass up as he walked to a rack nearby and pulled a leather flogger from it. I moved closer, no less than three feet away, pretending like I was watching a simple demonstration with mild interest. No one took any notice of me.
The flogger made a distinct thudding sound as it landed on her Clarisse’s round, pretty backside. I inched closer to her head so I could get a look at her face. Her mouth was twisted to one side, and her eyes were narrowed.
Thud! The man slapped her again with the long strands dangling from the braided handle. It must have been much harder than the first because Clarisse jolted in her restraints, and I thought I heard her hiss.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The man bent over to look at her face but was obviously unhappy with what he saw because he landed several more blows to her rear. I gritted my teeth. That butt belonged to me, and if anyone deserved to punish it, well, that was also me.
I heard Clarisse begin to swear loudly, insults and threats pouring from her pretty lips. I smirked as a plan formed in my head.
I approached the tall gentleman and confidently plucked the tool from his hand. With a knowing nod, I elbowed him out of the way.
“This is my girl. Let me show you how it’s done.” I don’t know where my chutzpah came from because this man could crush me like a bug if he wanted to, but for some reason, he took a step back, gesturing to Clarisse welcomingly.
I approached her, just out of her field of vision and lightly stroked my hand over the round, firm flesh that was already bright pink from the hits she’d taken. She quickly settled down, a low humming sound coming from her.
Just when I felt she’d settled down enough, I drew back the flogger and gave her a quick snap on the backs of her thighs. She hissed again but followed it with another contented hum. I snapped it again, higher this time before drawing back one more time and landing the blow directly on her pussy. The moan that came from her made my balls tighten painfully. I dropped the flogger to the ground, moved into line Clarisse’s limited line of sight, then leaned over to whisper in her ear as I gently caressed her ass again.
“Once you realize what made the difference between simple pain and pleasure, give me a call,” I said before kissing her cheek lightly and walking away.
Gage and Stacy stood there, still looking concerned as I moved back toward them. I stopped next to them, nodding as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I’ve done all I can do. The rest is up to her. Do me a favor though, Blackstone. Make sure she gets home okay.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ve got her.” I clapped him on the shoulder and made my way out of the club, worry and hope at war in my chest.
“Uncuff me now,” I growled at Ezekiel, who was looking down on me with disapproval. I really couldn’t give a shit. I needed to get to Wyatt and find out what he meant. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Serious shook his head
in distaste but reached for one of the buckles at my wrist.
“I had reservations about you,” he began, “but I let myself get my hopes up since I thought you were so cute. You’re no submissive, Clarisse. Get up, I’ll take you home.”
“No, thanks,” I replied as he moved to the other restraint. “I’ll find my own way there.”
“We’ll take her.” I turned to look at Gage as he cut into the conversation.
“Where did Wyatt go?” I asked hurriedly, ready to run in whichever direction he went.
“He’s already gone,” he replied with a shrug as I rubbed each of my wrists since my hands had gotten a slight case of pins and needles.
“Sorry, Ezekiel,” I apologized, feeling like I should at least say something. “This just didn’t turn out to be what I expected. Nothing to do with you, sorry for disappointing you. My head... my heart… I guess they’re just in other places.”
“Try to maintain a better sense of self-awareness, so you don’t waste someone else’s time,” he said before turning and walking away. I just rolled my eyes. The stick was way too far up that guy’s ass.
“C’mon, midget,” Gage said, steering me away from Ezekiel’s direction. “Let’s get out of here before you cause a scene.”
Once we were safely out of the club and into Gage’s SUV, he launched into the lecture I’d been expecting from him, only it wasn’t quite what I thought it would be about.
“You’ve made a mess of things, haven’t you? What were you thinking trying to get into this scene all on your own?” he asked as Stacy sat quietly next to him.
“I had no choice. Wyatt and I were trying to work our way into it, but it’s not his thing. It’s something I thought I needed to do for myself.”
“You could have at least come to me for some guidance. I’m no Dom, but at least I’m not a stranger to this world.”
Twist Tied Page 16
