A Club Esoteria Wedding [Club Esoteria 11] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cooper McKenzie

  “I love you, Master,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too, mouse. I can’t wait for us to be married. You have a month,” he said, the edges of his voice softening with his orgasm.

  “A month, Master?”

  “We will be married four weeks from yesterday,” Taurus said before pulling his cock from her and rolling to her side.

  “Can a wedding be put together in four weeks, Master?” she asked, snuggling into his side and laying her hand in the middle of his chest. His heart beat strong and steady, if a bit fast, under her palm.

  “Don’t know, don’t care. We’ll have it in Jenna’s garden. It should be in full flower by then, and the weather should be warm enough for an outdoor wedding and reception,” Taurus said, sounding as if he had given this some serious thought.

  “Yes, Master,” Whitney agreed easily, once again on the verge of sleeping. “We need to get up and go back to the club.”

  “Shhhh, we’ll talk about that after a nap,” Taurus said, rearranging them so her head was on his shoulder and his arm around her back, holding her close to his side.

  * * * *

  “Come on. Let’s take a walk before we go,” Taurus said after she had checked out just minutes before the checkout deadline.

  Taking Whitney’s hand, he led her to the walkway that followed along the Trent River. Turning left once they reached it, they walked past the convention center and under the bridge that linked downtown New Bern to James City on the far bank, then into Union Point Park to where the Trent flowed into the Neuse.

  There were only a few people in the park, most of whom were walking, jogging, and playing with dogs and children. No one paid them any attention as he led her up the steps to the gazebo situated at the corner of the park closest to the water.

  Though she had already said yes to his proposal, he wanted to have a story they could tell their children and grandchildren. What surprised him was how nervous he felt. Not a comfortable feeling for a man who usually maintained control over every aspect of his life and surroundings.

  As he led her to the center of the gazebo, he fumbled in his jacket pocket for the smaller of the two jeweler’s boxes in there. Once he held it in his left hand, he opened the box and pulled the ring out. Then he stuffed the box back in his pocket. When they reached the right spot, he stopped then turned so they stood face-to-face.

  She looked confused as he knelt on one knee and smiled up at her. Without a word, he held his right hand palm up. As if they were back in the club, Whitney laid both wrists in his hand.

  “Whitney Elliott, my sweet mouse. I love you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being my lifelong loving submissive?”

  As if she understood his motivation, she did not point out she had already agreed. Her head began to bob up and down as her eyes began to fill with tears. “Of course, Master. It would be my honor, my loving Taurus,” she finally whispered hoarsely after swallowing hard.

  With that, Taurus took her left hand and slid the ring on it. It fit perfectly.

  “This ring does not leave your hand except the day of our wedding,” he ordered gently before lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the ring and the knuckle adjacent to it.

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered before kneeling before him and replacing her knuckle with her lips.

  When he finally broke the kiss, his cock was hard as a steel rod, and he could smell Whitney’s arousal. “How about we take this home for a private celebration?”

  Whitney grinned up at him. “That sounds like a wonderful idea except there are nearly a hundred kinksters in the club that will no doubt be in need of your attention.”

  “Fuck them,” he said brusquely.

  “No, thank you. Only you, my loving Master,” Whitney snarked, earning herself a chuckle and a slap on her ass.

  Chapter 8

  Over the next twenty-six days, Whitney noticed a change in her Master. Though he still consulted and advised on scenes in the club, he no longer got hands-on with any of the subs except her. He also surprised her by stepping back after dictating the time and date they would be married. He took on the honeymoon planning, but left the wedding and reception to her. Anytime she approached him for his input or opinion, he would give her a long, deep, mind-fogging kiss her before saying, “Whatever my mouse wishes.”

  Thankfully, Jenna stepped in to help. The two women called on close friends and club members for assistance and put the wedding together without any hitches. Since Whitney had no close family, and except for his cousins, Jenna and Sloan, Taurus was on the outs with his, they decided it would be a small gathering of the three cousins, their partners, and a handful of close friends and staff from the club.

  The evening before the wedding, Sloan, Jenna, and several other women from the club took Jenna out to dinner and drinks. Wanting to relax but remain in control, Whitney limited herself to a single glass of wine, and despite arguments to the contrary, volunteered to be the evening’s designated driver.

  After driving everyone home, she and Jenna returned to the club. They parted at the elevator when Jenna said she wanted to do a walk-through of the club and find her slaves, so Whitney rode the elevator upstairs alone. Keeping with wedding tradition, Taurus had moved into the guest apartment several days before, building the anticipation for their wedding night.

  Stepping out of the elevator, she headed to their apartment, only to stop when she found a note tape to the door. Pulling it off the door, she read it, her smile growing as her cunt filled with her excitement.

  Dress in the outfit on the bed and join me downstairs.

  Entering the apartment, she placed her shoes in their place in the closet then hurried through the apartment, stripping off her clothes as she went. By the time she reached the bed, she was naked. Her nipples were tight and throbbed when the cooler air touched them. Her cunt clenched, and her juices overflowed.

  She could not stop grinning as she pulled on the skimpy orange teddy that she had worn on her first night at the club. The night Master Taurus caught her snooping in his club. After putting the clothes she had worn out to dinner away, she stopped long enough to check her makeup in the bathroom mirror. Going to the dresser where she kept her collar and wrist cuffs, she found the cuffs, but her collar was nowhere in sight. She spent the next ten minutes looking all over the apartment but could not find the black leather collar anywhere.

  Her heart began to pound as she rode down the elevator and crossed the first floor lobby. At the door that led into the club, she stopped.

  Though she had been in the club hundreds of times over the past two years, this time she felt the same anticipation and near fear as she had felt that first night when she had been a reporter on the trail of a story about the club selling sex slaves. Instead of getting the story she had been after, Whitney found herself entering a world she knew nothing about, but one that gave her life added depth and meaning. In the time since, she had learned about so much about herself and the BDSM world, though she always felt a little shiver in her stomach whenever she entered the club alone.

  As the same feelings of fear and excitement washed through her, Whitney opened the door to the club and slipped into the back hall. Unlike her first visit when she had worn shoes, jeans, and a shirt, she was properly dressed as a submissive with no shoes and only her orange teddy covering her body.

  A feeling of déjà vu swept over her as she approached toward the end of the hallway that opened into the club. If Master wanted to replay the night of their first meeting, she was more than willing to cooperate.

  The scents, sights, and sounds of the club washed over her, adding to her excitement. This was her world now, a world she was comfortable with, as long as Master was by her side. Alone she still felt exposed and nervous.

  “Looking good,” Gentry said with a grin as Antony, his brother slave, gave a loud wolf whistle. They wore matching olive-green thongs, the color looking good on both men. The skimpy material also showed off both their imp
ressively well-built bodies and bulged with their manhoods. Their black leather collars and wrist cuffs matched as well.

  “Hush, you two, unless you want Master Taurus to be the one to discipline you on the appropriate behavior of a slave boy toward another man’s property.” Mistress Jenna joined them and frowned at her slave mates.

  “No, Mistress. We’re sorry, Mistress,” the men apologized in unison.

  Then Mistress Jenna turned her focus to her. “Very nice, Whitney, but you’re missing your collar. Get to your Master, and tell him I said he needs to rectify that situation immediately.”

  “Yes, Mistress Jenna.”

  Jenna nodded and grabbed the front of her men’s thongs. “Come along, pets, it’s time for your discipline for being so forward with someone not your Mistress.”

  The men each sucked a breath as she squeezed their cocks then followed without another word. Whitney watched them go before turning to the bar where her gorgeous Master stood watching her. Like her, he wore the same leather vest and pants he had that first night, baring his well-sculpted body and furred chest to her perusal. Meeting his eyes across the room, she smiled and licked her dry lips.

  His lips curled up slightly as one eyebrow lifted in surprise. Then he raised a hand chest high and used two fingers to make a come here motion. Whitney smiled in return but did not heed her Master’s bidding. Instead, she turned and slowly eased her way around the room just as she had that first night.

  As she slowly circled the room, she felt Taurus’s eyes on her as members, both Doms and subs, stopped her to congratulate her or ask questions. Every Dom also made a point of asking her where her collar was.

  She had just finished assuring a couple that the wedding and reception would be club casual, and yes, leathers would be acceptable, when she felt a large, warm presence behind her. She smiled as long, muscular arms wrapped around her and, crossing over her chest to cover her breasts, pulled her back to lean against him.

  A pair of lips nibbled their way up the right side of her neck before taking possession of her earlobe. She moaned as his hands tightened over her breasts and pressed an erect cock into the cleft of her ass.

  “Little mouse, you wear no collar. Why is that?” Taurus’s voice whispered hoarsely.

  “I’m sorry, Master, but I could not find my collar,” Whitney moaned as she tilted her head to the side to allow him more access to what she had learned was one of her most erogenous zones.

  “Hmm, a little mouse who has lost her collar sounds like a punishing offense to me, Taurus,” Dane said with a chuckle as he walked by with his slave, Merlin, under one arm and Merlin’s slave, Sloan, under the other.

  A shiver of fear flashed through Whitney, though she knew her Master would never be cruel in his punishments. They normally ranged from a quick spanking to a long, drawn-out session of sexual torture, which would take her within a millimeter of her orgasmic peak but not let her go over the edge.

  Taurus did not respond to the other Master’s comment. Instead, he licked over the spot where her neck and shoulder came together that weakened her knees every time he paid it attention.

  “Come with me, little mouse,” he said softly, “and we’ll take care of this problem of your missing collar.”

  Pulling his arms from around her, he held her until she found her balance before taking her right hand in his left, and leading her across the bar. She was surprised to see most of those club members present that evening had gathered in front of the raised stage in the back corner of the room. Her eyes swept the stage, and she saw there was one of the raised spanking benches set in the center of the stage and spotlighted.

  Without acknowledging those they passed, Taurus led her through the crowd toward the stage steps. When she slowed and pulled on his arm, he stopped and turned to frown down at her. “What’s wrong, mouse?”

  Never liking to be the center of attention, Whitney swallowed hard before she could whisper, “What’s going on, Master?”

  Her heart began to race as her cheeks began to burn. She did not want to be the center of attention. It was bad enough to be it tomorrow at the wedding, but she had been mentally preparing for those moments all week. She was completely unprepared for this and really just wanted Master to take her upstairs so they could be alone.

  “We’re going to take care of that collar problem of yours,” he responded with a wink.

  Chapter 9

  “You were a bad little mouse for coming into the club this evening without wearing a collar on your pretty little neck.”

  “But, Master,” she started then swallowed down the rest of her protest when he merely lifted an eyebrow at her. Knowing she would never get out of whatever was to happen next, she took a deep breath and dropped her head until she stared at his boots. “Yes, Master.”

  She did not lift her head again until they had walked out onto the stage and stood face-to-face. He positioned them so they were sideways to the group standing just a few feet away. As his submissive and slave, she kept her face down. Ever since she had started coming to the club, people had picked apart her behavior, and tonight of all nights she did not want to embarrass her Master in front of their friends.

  “Eyes on me, mouse,” Taurus murmured.

  Whitney lifted her gaze and met the heat, passion, and love swirling in the deep blue-green depths of Taurus’s eyes. It felt as if she fell into those depths as Jenna stepped up beside them and began the ceremony that had bound other couples as Dominant and submissive couples over the past two years. Their audience faded as she lost herself in her Master’s warm green gaze.

  She felt as if she were in a dream as she knelt before her Master at the appropriate time. She repeated Jenna’s words, placing her body, soul, and obedience in Taurus’s hands in a soft but confident voice, the feeling of rightness welling up in her as the ceremony continued. Not only would Taurus be her Master, but in less than twenty-four hours he would also be her husband. Could life get any better than this?

  A soft snick at her throat brought her back to the here and now. She blinked and realized that Taurus had just wrapped a collar around her neck, which he had locked in place. It felt cool against her skin, sending a quick shiver through her as it slowly soaked in the warm from her skin.

  She lifted one hand to touch the chain around her neck as Mistress Jenna said, “I now pronounce you Master and slave.” With that, the room erupted in applause.

  Whitney never took her eyes from Taurus’s as he easily lifted her to her feet in a show of strength that never failed to thrill her. When he pulled her into his chest, she went willingly, and smiled up at him. “I love you, Master.”

  “And I love you, my sweet little mouse. Not too long ago you complained that we never scene together in the club anymore. Do you remember?”

  Thinking back to the day she ran away from the club convinced he no longer wanted her in his life, she nodded. “Yes, Master, I remember.”

  “You’ve been so stressed lately, I have decided what you need is something special to help you relax so you’ll sleep well tonight,” he said with a naughty grin. “I don’t want my wife-to-be showing up too tense to enjoy her big day.”

  Whitney returned his smile and nodded without saying another word. What was there to say? Master was in charge of her, body and soul, and what Master said was law.

  He led her over to the spotlighted bench and stood her so that her back was to the crowd. She remained still as he moved around behind her. Without a word, he dropped a black scarf over her eyes and tied it snugly into place.

  Just that quickly, Whitney’s senses shifted. Her fear of being on display dropped away as fast as her sight had been taken from her. Blindfolded, Whitney could pretend that she and her Master were alone. Especially since someone had turned up the music loud enough so that all she heard was the classic Prince song, “1999.”

  After another long, deep kiss that blanked her mind even further, Master Taurus took hold of her teddy’s lace shoulder straps and
pulled them down her arms and body until the material was puddled on the floor around her feet.

  She sucked a sharp breath, wanting to protest being naked in front of so many people. Before she could speak, he kissed her again. Her fear rolled away, and she cooperated when he picked her up then placed her belly down on the spanking bench. She pulled in another breath when her skin made contact with the cold leather.

  “Feel okay?” he asked as he brushed his lips across the back of her neck and a hand down her spine.

  “Not really,” she answered truthfully, “but I’m not in any physical pain, Master.”

  She heard him chuckle as he licked her earlobe. “Such an honest little mouse,” he praised softly.

  He then secured her right wrist cuffs to the eyebolts so her arm pulled straight and taut. When he did the same to her left arm, she could do no more than shift her upper body a few inches in any direction on the bench.

  She felt cool air waft over her skin as Taurus moved around the table. He took hold of her hips and pulled her further down the padded wooden bench until her ass, clit, and cunt hung over the end of the table and then adjusted her legs so her shins took the bulk of her weight.

  He then wrapped cuffs around her ankles and secured them to the table. Then a strap dropped across her lower back and then snugged down as he attached it to the other side of the table. With that, she could not move away from whatever he was about to do.

  Master Taurus checked her cuffs to make sure they were not cutting off the circulation to her fingers and toes. Then he stepped back, and the air settled around her.

  “Breathe, little mouse, and relax,” he gently ordered before verbally guiding her through several cycles of slow, deep breaths.

  As usual, his perceptiveness surprised Whitney. As she obeyed, muscles she had not even realized were knotted tight with tension began to loosen up and untie themselves. He began to rub his hands in long strokes down either side of her spine as she focused on her breathing. He continued until her muscles let go, and she melted into the table.