by Vivien Sparx
Tink nodded. “Yes. That’s what Renee is hoping will happen.”
Peter shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t think you understand the circumstances,” Peter said. “I wouldn’t count on getting the result you want from tonight.”
Suddenly Tink was curious, and a little concerned. “Why, Master?”
Peter let out a long sigh and took one hand off the wheel long enough to scratch at the stubble of his chin. “I actually understand how Stefan feels. I don’t think you do. And I don’t think Renee does either.”
Tink sat silently for a moment. There was another tight bend in the road, and when the car was accelerating again along a stretch of straight tarmac, she asked softly, “What do you mean?”
“Stefan is completely in love with Renee. She is his whole world. He loves her, and because of that he finds it very difficult to separate his feeling for her as his wife, and any physical desires. He can’t see her as his wife and his submissive. She can’t be both to him because he believes a wife should be treated differently to a submissive. He can’t make the distinction between the two roles that Renee wants. And, more than anything else, he can’t bring himself to hurt the woman he loves – even through BDSM play.”
Tink thought about that carefully. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, and then asked almost in fear, “But you treat me as your submissive. Does that mean you don’t love me in the same way?”
Peter glanced across the dark interior of the car and smiled. “I love you completely, Tink. The time since I met you has been the happiest time of my life. I think the world of you – and one day I would like to marry you… but we haven’t been through what Stefan and Renee have been through as a couple. And I’m not Stefan. I didn’t come to the BDSM lifestyle to hide away from the tragedy of a dead wife, like Stefan did. Stefan became a Master – I think I have always been one because of the way I was raised.”
Suddenly Tink was overloaded with curious questions and ripples of her own excitement.
One day, Master Peter wanted to marry her! The announcement struck her like a lightning bolt – but she had no time to focus or savor the excitement because a torrent of curious questions were suddenly bubbling at her lips and she asked them in a rush.
“I don’t know anything about your family. Are you an only child? How were you raised? What do you mean?” Like a playful kitten she leaned closer, her eyes shining and wide with unrestrained curiosity.
Peter frowned, and his eyes narrowed to flinty darkness. “Sir…!”
Tink gasped. “Sir,” she said quickly. “Sorry, Master. Forgive me. I… I get excited and forget my place sometimes.”
Peter let it go. He was in a good mood. The day had been one of celebration for them both since he had presented Tink with her collar that morning. He didn’t want to spoil the evening now by admonishing her.
“To answer some of your questions… I am not an only child. I am an orphan. My father died when I was very young.”
There was more to the story. Much more, and it took all of Tinks restraint to sit quietly in the darkened seat and wait until her Master was willing to continue. She watched his face as he drove, marveling at the man’s good looks, and her good fortune to have been chosen for him by Stefan.
Finally Peter spoke again. But he kept his eyes on the road, never once looking at Tink – merely talking, as though he were talking to the empty night. His voice was deep and gravelly – a man’s voice that remained devoid of emotion, as he recounted the details of his childhood and upbringing.
“My father and another man were business partners in Europe many years ago. They were into mining, and ran a lot of coalmines in Wales, as well as other places on the continent. My father was killed in a mine collapse when I was four years old. I never knew my mother – she died when I was born – and so my father’s business partner took me in to his home. Maybe he felt guilty – I don’t know. But for the next fifteen years he raised me with his own son. We lived on a huge estate in England, but it wasn’t a happy childhood for me. I wasn’t family, you see. The man reminded me often that he had only one son, and that son was the focus of his life. I was just… baggage.”
Peter broke off for a moment to take another very tight turn in the road. He had drifted well behind Stefan’s car, and he took a moment to accelerate until he caught sight of the red taillights again.
“When I was twelve, I was sent to boarding school for two years. And when I came home – a man of fourteen – my step-father had several young women in the home. You see over the time I was away he had become involved in the BDSM lifestyle. He was wealthy – obscenely wealthy. He began filling the house with young submissive girls who had nowhere else to go and who would gladly sell themselves into his service for the price of accommodation and food. Whereas other wealthy country estates had servants and assistants, I was surrounded by submissive women.”
Tink said nothing for a long time, and then finally asked softly, “So your step-father was like one of those English gentlemen?”
Peter smiled bitterly to himself, and then glanced across at Tink. “My step-father was English… but he was no gentleman. He was a hard, tough, uncompromising bastard. He ran the house with an iron fist, and discipline was everything. Any girl who disobeyed him once was punished. Any girl who disobeyed him twice was dismissed from the household. As a result, the women learned quickly. He got what he wanted, when he wanted it, and exactly how he wanted it.”
“And this is how you are different to Stefan.” It was a statement, not a question.
Peter nodded. “I have been around BDSM almost all my life. When I came to America in my early twenties, it seemed only natural that I would pick-up where I had left off in England. I became part of the local BDSM communities and trained several submissive women before I met you. It’s not new for me, and it’s not an escape from anything. This is the lifestyle I have always known, so I know how to love you, and keep you as my submissive. I know how to feel and care for you – and still desire you and want you in a physical way. And I know how to protect you, and still be able to punish you when you disobey me. It’s a delicate line to walk, Tink – and Stefan is discovering that all his skills as a Master were never good preparation for how to deal with falling in love.”
Eleven.
Stefan and Renee were waiting on the sidewalk outside the black timber door when Tink and Peter met them. Renee was wearing a skin-tight red dress, cut high up on her thigh. She had her hair brushed out and her slave collar around her neck. The two women hugged and Stefan shook hands with Peter. Tink, dressed in a tight shimmering black dress, looked like a wicked pixie. She was shorter than Renee, but her dress was cut an inch higher, so that the hem line was barely an inch above the triangle of her panties. Peter slid his arm around her waist, resting his hand possessively on her bottom and she wiggled her body in encouragement.
There was a man at the door – a huge black man who had shoulders that seemed three feet wide and no neck. He was a monster. Peter shook the man’s hand, which seemed the size of a baseball mitt, and they chatted briefly. Then the bouncer rapped twice on the timber door and it swung quietly open.
“Welcome to ‘Heaven’s Gate’,” the big man smiled, flashing perfect white teeth around a voice that sounded like the rumble of nearby thunder.
Renee was disappointed. The club was nothing like she had expected.
The downstairs area looked like a regular bar; there was a long timber counter on one side of the room, behind which were mirrored walls lined with shelves of alcohol. Serving at the counter were two young dark-haired women, wearing lingerie. On the opposite wall was a row of dark-timbered booths, where groups and couples sat chatting quietly. The lighting was all in the centre of the room – crystal chandeliers – so that the booths were dark and secluded.
To the right, winding its way up a level, was a wide staircase with wrought-iron balustrades. There were people drifting up and down the stairs, and Renee noticed one woman in particular
who stood out from all the others. She was about Renee’s height, but her hair was coppery-red; a long mane of fiery color above a perfect Persian face. She had fine, delicate features, and she carried herself with rare elegant grace. The woman was wearing a full-length golden gown that clung provocatively to the swelling shape of her breasts and was cut high-up on one thigh so that every step revealed long tanned legs. Renee watched the woman for long seconds as she came down the stairs and then disappeared through a steel door at the far end of the bar.
Tink had noticed the woman too. She leaned close to Renee, clutching her hand. “That’s Desire,” Tink said in a conspiratorial whisper. “She belongs to the man who owns the club.”
Renee nodded, still staring at the closed door behind which the woman had disappeared. Then suddenly she felt Stefan’s arm around her waist, guiding her towards one of the booths. His touch broke the spell – and she smiled up into his handsome face warmly. “Thank you for making the effort to come here tonight,” she said. She brushed her hand lightly down the broad of his chest. “I appreciate it.”
They found a booth and ordered drinks from one of the lingerie waitresses. She smiled and winked at Peter, and then turned on her heel, wiggling her hips with every mesmerizing step that carried her back to the bar. Stefan and Peter admired the woman as she went. So too did Tink and Renee.
“Every woman here is beautiful,” Renee said, leaning across the table and speaking in a whisper.
Tink nodded seriously. “This is only part of the club,” she explained to Renee. “The staircase takes you up to the rooms.”
“The rooms?”
Tink nodded, but Peter intercepted her answer and explained instead. “There are several private rooms upstairs where members of the club can enjoy each other,” he said. “Anyone is welcome to use the rooms, or to join in the activities taking place – so long as they are respectful, and the activities completely consensual – then anything goes.”
Renee nodded, but then she shook her head. “I expected something much different,” she confessed. “I thought it would be a dingy kind of place with crosses and naked women, men in leather and lots of sex-play happening everywhere. But it’s a lot more elegant than I expected.”
Peter laughed. “Renee, the club is more a meeting place than an actual BDSM club you might imagine. It’s a place to connect – not Disneyland.”
Their drinks arrived, and the young woman was careful and deliberate in the way she leaned across the table to serve Stefan his drink, and ensure he had ample opportunity to look down the gaping front of her negligee. Stefan took his drink, smiled at the woman, and then raised his glass in a toast.
“To friendship,” he said simply. Everyone raised their glasses and clinked them together.
There was no music in the bar – just the soft murmur of voices from the other booths. In the stall behind them, Renee could hear a man talking to a woman who must have been his submissive. The man was instructing the woman to cross the room and approach a young blonde girl who had come into the club on her own a few minutes earlier. She was standing at the bar, her back turned to them, but Renee could tell the girl had a sensational figure. The man behind them wanted her – and he was making sure his submissive delivered the message correctly.
“Tell her to join me for a drink,” the man said. “Tell her to leave her panties at the bar.”
From the corner of her eye Renee saw the shape of a tall woman slide out from the booth and then saunter across the club’s polished timber floor towards the young girl at the bar. Renee turned her head to watch, fascinated. She saw the tall woman kiss the girl, and then they stood close together chatting intimately. Renee marveled at the openness of the women. Then suddenly there was a bustle of activity around the steel door at the end of the bar and her attention was drawn to the movement.
She turned in her seat and clutched for Stefan’s hand under the table.
A slim dark-haired girl was being led through the steel door into the bar area. The girl looked very young – perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. She was wearing just a pair of brief black lace panties, and high heels. She had firm, large breasts. Around the girl’s neck was a long silver chain, and she was being paraded around the club’s perimeter by the gorgeous woman Renee had seen on the staircase.
The young girl followed at the end of the chain, willing and smiling as the gathered members applauded politely. Desire led the girl twice around the room and then came to a halt in the middle of the floor. The girl shuffled forward until she was standing at the woman’s side.
“Welcome gentlemen,” the woman Tink had called Desire said in a loud clear voice. “Look what we have for your pleasure this evening.”
There was another round of applause and the chained girl seemed to blush. She smiled nervously, her eyes glittering with excitement.
“This is Mandy – and Mandy is our charity auction offer for the evening.” A man at a booth nearby stood up and applauded. Renee guessed him to be in his early forties. He was wearing a dark suit, and there was a woman about the same age sitting in the booth across from him. The man finished applauding and gave a sexy whistle.
“Mandy is nineteen years old, and new to BDSM,” Desire said, like a ringmaster working the audience. “And she is fresh! Very fresh and very, very sweet.” As if to prove the fact, Desire turned to the girl and muttered a few words. The girl spread her legs obediently and then Desire reached her hand deep inside the elastic of the girl’s panties and held it there for a few moments. Renee watched the young girl’s face. She saw the girl’s mouth fall open in a silent erotic moan, and then Desire slid her hand from the girl’s panties and sucked her fingers noisily into her mouth.
“Very, very sweet!” Desire said.
Again the crowd applauded enthusiastically. Renee glanced across the table. Tink’s eyes were glittering and she was smiling excitedly. Through the tight fabric of Tink’s dress, Renee could see the hard shape of her nipples and she realized Tink was aroused. Then, almost as an afterthought, she sensed the first signs of her own arousal as a tightness down low in her abdomen. She was still holding Stefan’s hand and she rested it high up on her thigh and parted her legs a little. Stefan and Renee exchanged quick glances, and then Renee edged her legs wider in invitation.
She heard Stefan mutter stiffly, but then a moment later his hand began to move under the counter-top. Slowly his palm traced its way up to the top of her leg and then slid between her parted thighs. Renee gasped, feeling the vibrations of his massaging fingers against the sheer fabric of her panties. She bit her lip, and it took all of her composure to keep her expression neutral while she turned back to the floor show as though nothing at all was happening.
In the middle of the room, Desire had the young girl down on her hands and knees. The girl was crawling around in circles, at the end of the chain, displaying herself openly and willingly to the crowd. Desire leaned over and swatted the girl’s taut bottom through the sheer fabric of her panties. Over the sound of the audience, Desire announced, “What am I bid, gentlemen? How much am I offered to have young Mandy join you for the evening in a night of BDSM instruction and pleasure?”
The bids came in a sudden flurry, and then once the offer reached $3,000, they suddenly stalled, despite Desire’s best efforts to maintain the momentum. Then suddenly Peter stood up and said in a clear, strong voice, “$4,000!”
Tink clapped her hands and cheered her delight.
Desire, seeing a new bidder join the auction, turned to the other men who had been part of the auction. “Gentlemen?” she encouraged. “Any advance on $4,000?”
One by one the men passed. Peter won the girl for the evening and Tink hugged him fiercely and covered his face with kisses. “Oh, Master! Thank you!” she grinned.
Peter smiled. “She’s your collaring gift,” he said.
Desire brought the young girl to the booth and handed Peter the chain. “Congratulations,” Desire said softly. “I am sure you will enjoy her.”
Peter handed the leash to Tink.
The girl knelt beside the table, and Peter reached out to absently run his hand across her breasts. The girl’s nipples hardened in response to his touch and she looked up with big green docile eyes. “You will come home with me and my sub tonight,” Peter said kindly. The girl nodded.
With the entertainment and auction completed, the crowd quickly returned to their conversations. Renee sat back in her seat and looked across at Tink. Stefan’s hand was still gently massaging the soft shape of her feminine mound, and she sensed her face was becoming flushed. It took all of her control to keep herself from moaning.
“I didn’t know you liked women, Tink,” Renee said.
Tink smiled. “I’ve always been bisexual,” she said openly. “But it’s only something I enjoy on special occasions. Up until now I hadn’t really had the opportunity to explore my own sexuality. It’s only been since I have been free of Larry Madden that I’ve had the time and opportunity to discover exactly what I like.”
Renee nodded. She had wondered if she herself was bisexual on many occasions. She wasn’t, but this new revelation about Tink merely added to her personality and character as far as Renee was concerned.
Renee reached for her drink and then flinched and froze suddenly. Stefan’s hand had slipped inside the elastic of her panties. She sat – perfectly still – and felt the tips of his fingers exploring the soft wet folds of her body. The sensation was so intense – so shockingly erotic – that she had to set her drink back down on the table in case she spilled it. She leaned back in the booth and tried to look calm and poised, while all the time beneath the table, Stefan’s fingers were driving her to distraction.
