by Tawny Taylor
“Kyler,” Stacy said, eyes widening for a single heartbeat before narrowing again.
Becker’s head swiveled as he twisted at the waist, glancing over his shoulder. “Kyler?”
“Don’t stop, slave.” She fisted Becker’s hair and yanked, turning him back around. “This is quite a surprise. I didn’t even hear you knock.”
“That’s because I didn’t. I…You never fixed the lock.”
She smoothed her hands down her torso, sheathed in a red PVC corset, her splayed fingers coming to a rest just above her belly button. “I was hoping it might come in handy someday. And it has.”
“Then you want people breaking in your house?”
“Only one.”
Kyler shook his head. “What the hell is going on here, Stacy? I came here today, thinking Becker was maybe trying to blackmail you like he did Elena.”
“How gallant of you,” she said, a sultry smile blossoming over her face. “But you’ve got it all wrong, in case you didn’t realize that by now.”
“Why don’t you tell me how it really is then?”
Her smile faded. “I can’t believe you didn’t put it all together. You’ve really disappointed me. In fact, I’ve totally lost interest in our game now.” She curled the fingers of her right hand into Becker’s hair again and pulled, glaring down at him. “What the hell are you doing? You don’t eat me like a toddler lapping at a lollipop, you worthless animal. Either do it right or leave.”
Was this the same woman he’d known all these years? On the outside, she looked the same. But the Stacy he knew was down to earth, easy to talk to. Outside of bondage play, she didn’t play games. “What game?” Kyler asked, completely bewildered.
“This one. The game we’ve been playing since the day you dumped me.”
What the hell? “I never dumped you. We were never…together.”
Something flashed across her face, but the expression didn’t remain there for long. In less than a blink, her expression was frosty again. “Is that really what you believe? Do I need to remind you of what you said to me?”
Kyler was so confused, he didn’t know what to say next. Obviously, he hadn’t just misread Becker, he’d also misread Stacy. In a huge way. Looked like he’d somehow mislead her too.
He couldn’t remember having ever said anything to make her think they were lovers. They’d never flirted. Never kissed or fucked. They’d never played in a dungeon together. They’d never shared any really deep intimacies. All they’d ever done was talk.
“It looks like you do need me to remind you.” Cruelly, she shoved Becker’s head from her then kicked him in the center of his chest with her spike-heeled boot. “You’re done. Go, learn how to eat pussy right. And don’t come back until you do.”
Becker fell backward, catching himself with his hands before scrambling back into his submissive position on his knees. “Yes, Mistress.”
Dressed in her PVC corset, and matching red fishnet stockings and knee-high boots, Stacy sauntered over to Kyler, sliding a black-painted fingernail between her lips. “I care about you, Stacy,” she said, throwing his own words in his face. “Like I haven’t cared about a woman in a long time.”
Shit, he had said that, a long time ago. And he’d meant it at the time. But not in the way Stacy had thought. “I meant I care about you as a friend. You’re a Domme. I’m a Dom. Neither of us are switches.”
“You could be. If you wanted me bad enough. You’d become a switch if you loved me.”
“Why would you ask anyone to become something they’re not if you love him? That’s not what love is all about, making people change.”
“Hey, I watched you over the past how many years? How many women have you tried to ‘fix’?”
She was right. Now that he thought about it, he had tried to change more than one of his former lovers. He’d fooled himself into thinking it was okay, by telling himself that he was helping them become better. “That was before. I know better now. Love is about…” He hesitated, realizing the real reason why every one of his former relationships had failed. It wasn’t because he’d been trying to change the women.
Love is about trusting, becoming vulnerable, giving of yourself, your heart and soul. Whether the one doing the loving is a Dom or sub or neither.
He’d always thought he’d known how to love. But he hadn’t. He’d only known how to play the role of lover. He’d always been the kind of guy to throw expensive gifts at his women. But that wasn’t truly giving. Those things had only been poor substitutes for the one thing his lovers had all been asking for—his heart. Just maybe, if he’d taken the chance, let himself become vulnerable, rather than focusing on how he could fix the woman or how she was failing him, he would have found true happiness with one of them. Maybe he could have spared himself and them a lot of heartache.
“Oh, are you going to get all philosophical on me now, Kyler? That’s so not you.” She sighed as she circled him, her eyes assessing. “You’ve always had the unfailing ability to fool yourself into thinking you see the truth, both in yourself and in everyone around you. Has that changed?”
“If you’d said that a month or so ago, I’d have had no idea what you were talking about.” He swore his blood had turned to ice, he felt so cold right now.
She stopped directly in front of him then, her expression turning haughty. “Then you’ve had a revelation. How nice. Aren’t you going to thank me?”
“No. Thank you for what?”
“Blackmailing Becker into getting you fired.”
“I quit.”
“Yeah, right. You quit.” Smiling, she patted his chest. “You had no choice. Although I’ll admit, I was surprised to see you give up. I figured you’d put up at least a bit of a fight. After all, you were so proud of where you’d gotten yourself.”
“Let me make sure I’ve got this clear—you were the one who cooked up that scheme with Elena and the money?”
Stacy shrugged again. “Maybe you expect me to be sorry, but I’m not. You didn’t deserve to be VP. Becker does. He may be on his knees, but he has a spine…and a heart.”
“So that’s really it? You did this because your feelings were hurt?”
“No, I did it because you needed me to. You see, I turned it around. I fixed you. Now, thanks to me, your eyes are open and you’re not fooling yourself anymore. Someday, you’ll see that and thank me.”
He’d heard enough. He spun around, hands clenched into tight fists, emotions pounding through his body. He was confused and hurt and sad and furious, all at the same time. He’d been betrayed by a woman he’d once considered a good friend. In one respect, he’d love to bring her down for what she’d done, and Becker for the part he’d played in it too. He’d lost a job he’d worked hard to earn.
But he was done with them, with games, with the shit. He left, not speaking another word.
He realized, after sitting down that night and taking a good, long look at his relationship with Stacy, that the only way to deal with someone like her was to walk away. Fate had a way of taking care of the rest.
At least, in the long run, she’d taught him some things about himself. Maybe she was right. Maybe someday he’d thank her.
Chapter Seven
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. Like I’ve said before, you don’t have to do anything to prove something to me.” Kyler stood inside his front door, his fingers curled around the handle. He was wearing his typical Dom gear—leather pants, and leather strap harness that showed off his amazing upper body. “If I officially present you to the group tonight, instead of just having you there as my guest, you’re going to be nude, touched by strangers, expected to play the part of perfect submissive. Not to mention, you may see me play with other submissives, both men and women.”
Elena couldn’t remember ever being so nervous. She didn’t even try to hide it. Kyler knew her well enough to recognize the signs, trembling hands, stuttering voice. Over the past year, they’d spent a lot
of time together, both in the dungeon and out. Talking. Touching. Sharing. Exploring. In that time, they’d grown, both as a couple and individually. Elena had learned a great deal about herself, thanks to Kyler. Like how hard it was for her to trust. And she’d helped him come to terms with a few issues too. Like how he avoided being vulnerable, stepping out of his Dom shoes and kneeling at the feet of the woman he loved. It had been both the most challenging and wonderful thirteen months of Elena’s life. “I know. I understand. But like you said, you don’t have intercourse with them. Right? And no one will expect intercourse from me either.”
“That’s right. It’s very different with you, my lover, than it would be with a submissive seeking only a Dom. And no Dom or Domme is going to even touch you without my permission, let alone demand intercourse.”
“I think I’m ready.”
“Okay.” He went back to the dungeon and gathered some toys in a bag. “Just in case you decide you want to play,” he explained. “No pressure. If you just want to watch that’s okay too. And I want you to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or want to leave.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t wear that outfit if you’re going to be presented. Go change.” He gave her jean-clad bottom a playful swat, sending her upstairs giggling. She wiggled into a g-string and fishnet body stocking and clomped downstairs in a pair of outrageously high shoes. On top went the white mink coat Kyler had given her the night of their first official date. “Ready?”
“Yep.” She held Kyler’s hand as they walked out to the waiting limo. “You said tonight’s sort of a Christmas celebration?” The official holiday was still over a week away, their second Christmas Day together. She didn’t care if Kyler gave her nothing. She was just grateful to have him in her life. He’d already given her so many things—beautiful clothes, expensive jewelry, himself. She couldn’t imagine anything that would be better or more meaningful anyway. He’d totally spoiled her.
“You might call it that. There won’t be any Christmas carols or hot chocolate but there’s usually a nice buffet and soft drinks. And some of the members exchange gifts.”
“Are you giving anyone a present this year?”
“Only one.” He didn’t say more and she didn’t want to pry, although she was seriously curious to find out who had earned a Christmas present from the man she’d fallen in love with. Was it a fellow Dom or maybe one special sub? “The Christmas play party is always at Master Blade’s private dungeon. Last year, you weren’t quite ready for it.”
Master Blade—who she guessed had not been born with that name—was obviously filthy rich, like old-money, rolling-in-it rich. His estate sat on one of Michigan’s most well-known roads, Lakeshore Drive, the rear backing Lake St. Clair. A long winding driveway took them through the walled, wooded lot to the house. A uniformed servant opened the limo’s door, and Kyler stepped from the car. Elena followed him up the brick home’s front steps to the polished wood door. Elena had never seen a house as big and beautiful as this one.
Inside, the building was as grand and breathtaking as its exterior. The foyer’s ceiling soared at least three stories up, and the biggest crystal chandelier she’d ever seen hung overhead.
“This way.” Kyler led her to a small room to the right. “One last chance. If you want to just watch, you can keep your clothes on. But if you want me to officially present you to the group this time, you’ll need to take everything off.”
She glanced at a pair of mostly nude women wearing leather collars, g-strings and harnesses, standing nearby. Her heart was drumming against her breastbone, keeping a rapid tempo. And her hands were shaking, mouth so dry she swore her tongue was going to crack. But she still wanted to do this, wanted to become a part of this world. “I’m sure.”
The two women in g-strings helped her out of her coat, body stocking and g-string. She felt terribly self-conscious as she left the room. It was amazing how much security a mostly transparent fishnet garment could give her.
Kyler eyed her intensely, his gaze traveling up and down her body. “This is it. Ready?”
How could she say no when she knew this meant so much to him? She pulled in a deep breath, let it out and clasped her shaking hands together behind her back. “Yes, Master. I’m ready.” She held her breath as she took little baby steps behind him, down the hallway to the pair of double doors at the end. She could hear the sounds of the party inside, voices, music.
When the doors opened, it was like a wave of sensation rolled over her. The scents of perfume and pine and sex. The distant sounds of slapping, and closer, voices, music. And the many, many bodies, tall and thin, short and stout, all shapes and sizes and in various forms of undress.
“This way.” Kyler led her past dozens of curious onlookers to the room’s center, beneath a glittering chandelier where light played out across the room in twinkling mini-starbursts. “Present, Elena.” He then moved away from her, walking toward one end of the room, leaving her to present as they’d practiced at home every day.
She’d imagined it would be like this, both scary and thrilling. But she’d had no idea how thrilling it would be. She lifted her chin, pushed her shoulders back and, staring straight ahead while avoiding making eye contact with any Doms or Dommes within eyesight, walked across the empty floor. When she was within about four feet from Kyler, she slowly, as gracefully as she could manage, eased to her knees.
She hadn’t fallen over, twisted an ankle or stumbled like an idiot. She was actually able to inhale freely for the first time since arriving at this place.
Now the easy part. On all fours, she crawled toward him, stopping about eighteen inches from his feet. Finally, she took the presentation position he favored when they played at home. Back arched, eyes down, bottom up off her heels, knees spread and hands resting on her thighs.
She stared blindly at the gleaming wood floor and listened to the room fall silent. Everything seemed to stop, the voices, music. She didn’t have to look up to know that everyone was looking at her.
A crazy rush of heat flared through her body on the heels of an equally intense chill. The floor was like ice beneath her knees, the air a fragrant caress around her body, the silence a dark cloud above her head.
More nervous than she had been a few minute earlier, she turned inward, focused on the sensation of air filling her lungs, the pounding of her heart in her chest.
At Kyler’s demand, Elena recited the presentation she’d performed for him every day they spent together, “Master Kyler, this submissive presents the Master’s body for his examination and inspection. This submissive joyously presents these breasts…” She cupped her breasts. “This vagina…” She lowered her hands to her pussy and parted her labia. “This anus…” She reached around and parted her ass cheeks. “And mouth for examination and inspection.” She opened her mouth wide and waited.
What agony. What sweet agony.
Around her she heard voices, commenting on her body, complimenting Kyler on his beautiful new submissive. At his command, she closed her mouth and, avoiding making eye contact with any of her admirers, looked around the room.
How many times had she secretly fantasized about a scene like this, where she was being assessed, objectified? Touched? At Kyler’s assent, strangers’ hands fell on her shoulders, back, stomach, head. Male and females alike commented on her breasts, her ass, her hair.
Between her legs an aching pounding had begun, and the heat there increased with each throb of the delicate tissues. Even if her mind didn’t know it, her body did. This was what she’d been searching for. She’d found her place, among Masters and Mistresses, Doms and Dommes. Slaves and submissives. People she might never have found.
Kyler had gently and patiently led her home.
A beautiful woman, her lush body spilling from a black latex catsuit, bent down and boldly weighed Elena’s breasts, her full red lips pursed. “She’s just lovely, Kyler. May I?”
“Absolutely, Mistress Jasmine.”
> Elena gasped, both insanely aroused by the woman’s touch and equally shocked. But she didn’t flinch or move away. Even when she watched one of the woman’s hands move down between her legs.
Her inner thighs tightened and Elena squeezed her eyes closed as the woman’s fingers slipped into her slick heat, stretching her. She could swear she was either going to ignite or pass out. She just wasn’t sure which.
Reflexively, her vagina tightened around the woman’s fingers, intensifying Elena’s pleasure.
What was it about becoming an object that thrilled her so much? She was there, on her knees, her pussy full of some woman’s fingers. Her entire body open and exposed to so many people.
She couldn’t say, but she knew this was what she needed. That instead of making her feel empty and invisible it made her feel powerful and beautiful. She was sad when the woman withdrew her fingers, gave Kyler yet another compliment on his new submissive and left, and the sounds of the party slowly resumed.
Kyler helped her to her feet. “Now we go to the dungeon.”
Elena’s knees threatened to buckle, she was so aroused and giddy. As she walked, she felt people watching her, admiring her. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. Past men and women, Masters and slaves, Doms and submissives, down the wallpapered wall lined with expensive looking artwork, to a single door, painted black.
Kyler opened the door, and they stepped into a huge, fascinating bondage dungeon, torn from her wildest imaginings.
Over the past year, Kyler had taught her the proper terms for the equipment—St. Andrew’s Cross, sex swing, kneeler, bench, cage. This dungeon had several of each. The room was partitioned into eight areas, each one containing at least a couple of pieces of furniture. At the moment, there was a scene going on in each one. She passed one where a Domme was playing with a submissive man. He was on his knees at the moment, being flogged. And in another scene, a Dom seemed to be instructing onlookers on the art of rope bondage. Kyler continued toward the back of the room, stopping in front of a scene showcasing a man nearly as big as the bouncer outside performing electro play on a bound beautiful blond woman.
