Oh, and that long red hair. That was probably the best part. Perfectly straight locks in a vibrant shade that exuded confidence. Not like Hilary’s deep brown color that allowed her to blend into the background. Hilary would die for hair like Rebecca’s. Or at least the opportunity to brush it.
Focus. Pressing her fingertips to her temple, she tried to ignore the oncoming headache. Here she was about to lose the best job she’d ever had—and the only one that didn’t require her to take orders from a drive-thru window—and all she could think about were the dirty things she’d like to do to Mistress Rebecca. Not exactly a normal reaction. Groaning, she put her head down on the desk.
“Hilary.”
Her mouth went dry. Mistress Rebecca’s familiar voice no longer had the warm comforting effect she’d enjoyed all these months. Instead it served to make her palms sweaty and gross.
Looking up, she turned her gaze toward Rebecca, trying to pick up anything from her body language or facial expression to tell her what might happen next. Fired? Run out of town? Lynched by a mob of angry patrons? At this point, she figured she deserved the worst. The poor man was probably threatening Rebecca with a costly lawsuit. The legal fees for which would undoubtedly come from Hilary’s paycheck.
If the redhead knew something about the disciplinary measures the company had in store, she didn’t show it. No furrowed brow or crossed arms. Not even a hint in her tone of voice. Not exactly helpful.
“We need to talk before you leave.” The woman’s voice maintained an even tone that drove Hilary insane. Talking involved forming coherent thoughts and words, neither of which she’d managed to do since her incident. Even thinking about trying to put together an explanation made her throat tighten painfully. Instead of answering, she sucked in a breath and stood. Rebecca held the door to the stairs and motioned for Hilary to go first. Avoiding the redhead’s intense stare, she slipped through the opening.
At the bottom of the stairs, she waited until Mistress Rebecca caught up, and then followed the redhead through the maze of hallways. Hilary’s eyes followed the laces of her corset down her back and settled on the curvature of her ass. So round and perfectly lifted. The ridiculously short piece of fabric pretending to be a skirt didn’t even begin to cover the cheeks that peeked out from beneath the hem.
Of all the things she’d miss when they fired her, seeing Rebecca on a daily basis topped the list. That was saying something, considering that she loved working here.
Had Rebecca told the guy about the incident? Did he already know? He hadn’t seemed upset on his way out, but Hilary had been so caught up in her own concerns that the building could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have noticed.
The poor man. He’d trusted not only the club with his privacy and deepest desires, but his Mistress as well. Rebecca. The woman who would be punished for Hilary’s mistakes. Even if the owners didn’t come down on her, it would affect the way she dealt with her clients.
Nice way to show Rebecca how much she admired her. Screw up the Domme’s session, ruin her reputation with a client and possibly jeopardize the woman’s job. Yep, that sounded about right. Whatever disciplinary action the owners saw fit, it wouldn’t be enough to make up for her mistake.
They made the left turn that did not lead to the prop closets. Most of the administrative offices were on the upper floor, but Hilary always suspected they had one or two tucked away in the basement for dealing with serious matters. A place like this likely had more than its share of disruptive patrons and ones who needed a little extra attention.
Rebecca stopped suddenly and Hilary nearly ran into her. As the woman opened the door, Hilary realized they were back at the same room she’d walked in on earlier, except no one was tied up in it. The only thing left out was a chair in the middle of the floor. The rest of the props had been put away in the corners or on one of the floor-to-ceiling metal storage racks. Her eyes jumped from item to item as she tried to figure out how they might be used. The ball gags and spreader bar she recognized from the catalog she showed clients before appointments, but the rest of the items were a mystery.
“Sit.” Short and pointed. A command Hilary quickly followed, positioning herself in the chair at the center of the room. “You wanted to know what goes on back here, yes?” Rebecca circled the chair, drifting in and out of Hilary’s view. She didn’t dare turn her head to follow, choosing instead to stare straight ahead.
“Yes. I mean no.” Sure, she’d often wondered about the details of what went on during client sessions, but she’d never considered coming down here to actually look. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you. It was an honest mistake.” She could live with the images she put together in her head. The menu of services the Black Rose offered gave her a pretty good idea of the activities, and her overactive imagination filled in the fuzzy details.
Still, actually seeing it in real life had an effect on her that the videos she’d seen hadn’t. Since her brief view into a real-life example, she couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t help but imagine herself switching places with the man.
“We don’t believe in mistakes around here.”
Hilary swore she’d heard those words before. Maybe read them in the packet of information she’d been given on her first day. “It won’t happen again.” Especially not after they banned her from the premises.
“No, it won’t. You are a smart girl and I’m sure you’ll learn a lesson from your punishment.”
Punishment. The word infiltrated every part of Hilary’s being. She’d expected to be reprimanded, even fired for her indiscretion, but never punished.
“Are you prepared to deal with the consequences of your actions?”
She wasn’t sure why, but the prospect of having Rebecca dish out her sentence made her whole body shake with anticipation. “Yes.”
“Good. Do you know what a safe word is?”
Hilary nodded.
“When I ask you questions, you’ll answer me with either ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress.’” She walked around to Hilary’s front and leaned forward, using the chair arms to hold herself up. The redhead’s incredible breasts spilled over her top, so close it would take only the slightest movement for them to be within reach. Resisting the urge, she focused her gaze on the woman’s eyes.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Pick a safe word.”
Hilary thought for a minute. Clients’ safe words were noted in their files and she’d seen everything from the mundane to the completely wacky. It was more difficult to decide where she fell on that spectrum. She’d never considered what she’d choose if it was actually her. “Red.” The first word that came to mind. She’d seen it mentioned on a number of information sheets and figured it must be common. Besides, the word reminded her of the Mistress’s silky hair.
“Fine. You’ll need to remove your clothes.” Rebecca pulled one of the props from the corner and situated it near the chair. “And lie facedown on this bench.”
Hilary stared at the strange-looking piece of furniture in the middle of the room. It certainly didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen before. As she rose from the chair, she examined it more closely. With a little imagination, she could picture exactly how it would work. The curved shape would force her ass into the air, creating the perfect bull’s-eye for whatever instrument Mistress Rebecca chose. She carefully removed her clothes, taking the time to fold each piece and place it on the chair. When she’d stripped off all but her underwear, she glanced up, hoping for further instruction. Surely she wasn’t supposed to remove her bra and panties too. She already felt more exposed than ever before. Her current position made her feel vulnerable and she fought the urge to use her arms to cover as much of her skin as possible.
“Do you not understand my directions?” Rebecca asked. “I told you to remove your clothes. All of them.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Hilary took a deep breath then shimmied out of the thin fabric, thankful she’d at least found the time that
morning to shave in the shower. When she’d finished, Rebecca directed her to the bench and helped to position her over the hard surface.
“I’m going to put restraints on your wrists and ankles.” Rebecca passed in front of her, holding out the materials she intended to use so Hilary could look at them. They looked soft, not the rough metal or leather she’d imagined.
A second later, she felt the fabric around one of her ankles. As soon as she was sure Rebecca had stepped away, she tested it, attempting to pull her foot away. There was a little give, but not more than a half inch or so in any direction. Her mind raced. What if she needed to get free? What if something happened? A reassuring touch as the woman trailed her fingers up Hilary’s lower back to her shoulder blades helped to calm her. Mistress Rebecca repeated the same steps around her other ankle before coming around to the front and grabbing hold of her wrists, tying each of them separately around the legs of the bench. When she’d finished, she looked up into Hilary’s eyes. “Are they too tight?”
“No.” The word slipped out before she could think about it. When she considered her answer, she realized she actually believed it.
“No, what?”
“No, Mistress.”
A sparkle flashed through Rebecca’s crystal-blue eyes. The moment was brief, but it’d definitely been there. Hilary didn’t have long to analyze it though. A second later, Rebecca returned carrying a long stick with a bunch of strips of black fabric hanging off it.
“I’m going to blindfold you.” She passed the fabric around Hilary’s head and tightened it in the back.
With her sight gone, she relied on her hearing to figure out exactly what was going on in the room. Rebecca moved with a grace that made her surprisingly quiet. A feat made more impressive by the fact that she wore three-inch stilettos. Focusing on the sounds around the room, Hilary tried to make out where the woman was standing. Nothing. Not even the smallest click against the hard floor. On occasion, the Mistress got close enough that Hilary could feel the heat from her body and follow her movements. Hilary’s body tingled in anticipation.
Before she started working here, she’d never thought much about sex outside the typical vanilla flavor. Leaving a light on in the bedroom was the kinkiest thing she’d ever managed. When the Black Rose owners had interviewed her, she’d managed to keep her cool and recite a bunch of the facts she’d looked up on the internet about bondage and submission. She doubted her stilted explanations managed to fool them, but they hired her anyway. Probably because answering the phone didn’t require a deep understanding of the inner workings of the club. The more she watched the various clients coming in and out, requesting services and filling out forms listing their various fetishes and predilections, the more curious she became.
Rebecca touched the back of her leg with a fingertip, and Hilary shivered. The pictures of the videos she’d watched flashed through her mind. She assumed knowing exactly what went on would help to quell the growing urge to experiment that hung in the back of her mind. Wrong. Very wrong. It only served to fuel the fantasies. She’d never considered actually acting them out. Not really. Now, she had the chance and she wanted to make sure she did a good job. Make Rebecca proud and happy to have given her an opportunity to make up for her indiscretion.
*
Damn. Rarely had Rebecca’s control been so tested.
Six years of working as a Mistress in various dungeons around the city, and no client ever managed to work her up or tear her wall down as much as the shy receptionist did. Some of her clients tested her ability to control herself, but mostly it was a job. One Rebecca Greer never intended to have until she was strapped for cash and about ready to be evicted from her apartment. That day, she’d taken a friend up on a job offer. It’d been a temporary arrangement. What she hadn’t foreseen was that she was actually pretty good at dishing out a little pain for pleasure. Great even. At least according to her clients. Since then, she’d moved up in the world, gaining a devoted clientele and making a name for herself. Then the job offer from the Black Rose, the most elite club in the city, landed in her lap.
In all that time, she’d never once even thought about bending the rules. Safety and professionalism were her only concerns. Even to the point where they interfered with her outside relationships. Hard to have a conversation with someone when you can’t talk about what you did at work that day.
She’d expected to bring Hilary downstairs and scare her a little. If she’d intended to spy on sessions, she’d have pulled a stunt much earlier. Hell, more than one of their front desk workers had done exactly that. A point needed to be made, though, and Rebecca figured she’d show her a few restraints and the girl would cry wolf. Fresh out of college, the receptionist had a certain youthful innocence. It didn’t help her image much that she typically remained quiet and out of the way during the boisterous conversations the mistresses had in the break room. There’d even been bets about how long she’d last in the position.
Most of the other employees saw her quietness as a sign of weakness. Even then, Rebecca had suspected the truth was something far more alluring. The girl clearly had a submissive side. From the way she accepted praise and direction on her job performance, the entire office should have keyed in to brunette’s sub tendencies. Except Rebecca had missed it.
That little tidbit made her stomach do a flip that left her feeling breathless. Perhaps that was why Rebecca was drawn to her. Even without the realization of the girl’s tendencies, she’d known. Or at least a part of her had. The receptionist might not know it yet, but she needed to be dominated. Something Rebecca was more than happy to provide.
There the receptionist was, spread out on the bench, motionless save for a slight heaving of her chest each time she took a breath. The girl’s petite, pale body was spread out before. Her creamy skin called to Rebecca, begging to be touched and caressed. What now? She hadn’t actually expected to follow through on the threat. This had to be against at least ten rules, maybe even more.
From the chest of toys against the wall, she picked out a soft rubber flogger. Running her hand over the tails, she thought carefully about how she was going to handle this situation. From what she could tell, this would be the girl’s first experience and Rebecca didn’t want to be too hard or get carried away. Still, there was a definite curiosity there that needed to be satisfied. Done properly, it could awaken dormant desires Hilary didn’t even know existed.
“I’m going to give you ten lashes with this flogger. It’ll hurt, especially the first few, but you need to take them as part of your punishment. If it gets to be too much, use your safe word.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Good. The girl was a quick learner. Rebecca trailed the tips along the girl’s back to give her an idea of how it would feel. Gooseflesh appeared over Hilary’s skin and she shivered. Rebecca knew that reaction well. Now or never.
The girl cried out as the first strike landed squarely across her cheeks. Immediately the pale skin of Hilary’s ass turned a bright shade of pink. The view made Rebecca’s whole body ache. When she’d first started the job, there’d been the occasional client who turned her on, but it’d been years since anyone had that effect on her. She wanted to do more than just punish the shy brunette. She wanted the opportunity to care for her after, to clean her up and provide the comfort that would be desperately needed.
Walking into the building every day and seeing Hilary Combes, seemingly unaffected by the world around her, sitting behind the desk, smiling sheepishly and peeking out from behind her bangs drove her nuts. Even fully clothed and hidden, Hilary made Rebecca’s mind conjure up the sexiest fantasies. What had made her think she could bring the girl down here and remain professional?
Rebecca made her second strike. Again, Hilary choked out a low muffled noise that spread through Rebecca’s body and threatened to destroy the control she’d worked so hard to maintain. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the girl mewed and moaned on purpose to throw her off. It w
ouldn’t—no, couldn’t work. This needed to be about teaching the girl a lesson. Nothing more. A quick slap on the wrist to make sure it never happened again. Anything more would be unethical and could potentially get her fired.
Three. If Rebecca let the girl’s whines get to her, she’d wind up asking for more than a simple night. That certainly couldn’t happen. Sure, this session bent the rules of the agency a little, but if they walked out of here, their relationship ended. Early-morning exchanges of pleasantries would be the only contact that could be allowed. Anything else and they’d be smashing the agency rules into a thousand pieces.
With the fourth strike, Rebecca’s mind turned toward visions of the girl kneeling on the living room floor of her apartment, waiting for her Mistress to come home and provide instruction.
She mentally slapped herself. One time, one little scene, and all she could think about was dragging the girl into bed.
Good God. Hilary cried out as the flogger hit her ass for the fifth time, but didn’t ask for her to stop. Instead, her restrained sobs practically begged for the punishment to continue. The way her hips rocked with each strike of the flogger drove Rebecca crazy. She was already soaking wet, and each smack only made the situation worse. Only halfway through and she felt ready to explode at any moment.
Her clit throbbed as the sixth hit landed and Hilary made a guttural noise. Rebecca could no longer control her mind as it wandered toward a vision of the girl teasing her own body, inserting fingers into her slit and rubbing until she begged for release.
When Rebecca raised her arm for the seventh time, she stared at the tight skin of the girl’s butt. With it stuck high up into the air, she could easily see the raised marks from the tails against the rosy skin. Before she could administer the eighth blow, Hilary lifted her hips higher and arched her back more. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the girl had done this before.
Had she? The thought stopped Rebecca in her tracks. Her first inclination was to say no, but the way Hilary handled herself made Rebecca think maybe she’d been wrong. Jealousy seeped into mind as she imagined another woman in her role, getting the enjoyment of finally giving the receptionist permission to come.
Love Letters Volume 1: Obeying Desire Page 8
