by Vivian Wood
“Sounds good,” Sean said. “I’ll get it.”
“Great, I’ll ring you up. By the way, we have an ATM here if you want it. It’ll come up as American Allegiance Bank on receipts and statements.”
“That’s alright, it doesn’t matter,” Sean said. “Besides, I have cash.”
“Okay, cool.” The boy put the toys in a non-descript black bag. “Enjoy!” he called out as Sean walked back into the bright California sunshine.
13
Harper
She tugged at the hem of her dress as she gazed into the hallway mirror.
“Damn girl, you getting’ some tonight!” Molly said as she squeezed past.
“Right,” Harper said. Damn P and his ridiculous designs. It’s like he doesn’t realize women have an ass and hips to cover.
The black latex dress she’d borrowed from P’s “works in progress” definitely fit right into a sex club. Or, at least, I think it does. It was skin tight and featured a seriously low-cut neckline that mimicked J. Lo’s iconic dress. The sleeves were a sheer lace. “Easy ripping. But don’t you dare,” P had warned. He’d then leaned back and sighed in contentment at his creation. “If you were a man, I’d definitely bang the shit out of you.”
Harper paced back and forth, anxious for Sean to arrive. She didn’t trust herself to sit down. She needed to practice in those sky-high red leather stilettos covered in studs.
“He’s here!” Molly sang as a knock rang through the house. Harper grabbed her purse and headed for the door—just in time for Molly to swing it open.
She nearly fell over herself when she saw him. His black hair had been expertly combed back. He was in a perfectly tailored tuxedo with a crisp black shirt and bow tie. “You … you … I’m not dressed right,” she finally stammered. She was incredibly aware and embarrassed of the getup P has insisted she wear. Holy shit, you look fucking edible, she thought.
He didn’t reply immediately, but his expression reassured her. Sean’s eyes drank her in, from her long bare legs to the corset-inspired center of the dress. “You look fantastic,” he said.
She swallowed. “So … so do you,” she said.
Molly fanned herself. “I’ll leave you two alone before I ask to be the guest star,” she said.
This time, when he offered his arm, she took it quickly. Even though she’d been paid to walk in ridiculous heels for nearly a decade, there was something different about these. The power they infused her with was almost addictive.
Sean helped her into the car. Her well-practiced maneuver of getting into low-slung vehicles in the shortest of dresses paid off. As she leaned her right knee sharply into her left, Sean licked his lips as he eyed her thighs.
She played nervously with the strap of her purse on the way over. “Scared?” he asked.
“No,” she said, too quickly. “Just … kind of nervous, I guess. I’ve never been anywhere like this.”
“Don’t be,” he said. He reached over and squeezed her thigh. All he has to do is slide it up a few inches, she thought. Suddenly, she wished she’d gone commando like P had requested instead of insisting on a little black thong.
They pulled up to a house Harper must have passed a hundred times. But she’d never seen it like this. There were no obvious signs, but a makeshift valet service had been set up. The young boys who parked the cars wore leather chaps. Some had on collars while others sported black police caps. Even though security was clearly tight and loitering outside was obviously not allowed, it was obvious this was a party.
One of the valet boys opened her door and helped her out while another raced to Sean’s side for the keys. “This is a club?” she asked. “It looks like a house.”
Sean smiled at her. “That’s the point.” He escorted her past the stately façade of the house to where a large Latino man hovered near the door.
“Good evening,” the giant of a man said.
“It is, though I hear it’s supposed to rain later tonight.”
“It never rains in California,” the man said as he opened the door for them.
“Was that some kind of code?” Harper whispered as they stepped inside, but Sean brushed off the question.
Inside, at the end of the grand foyer with the stained glass skylight that looked like it belonged in a cathedral, Sean parted the heavy leather curtains. The belly of the house was dark and sumptuous. Rock music soared through the air. A naked woman painted gold immediately approached with a tray of champagne. “Thirsty?” she asked in a throaty voice.
Sean took two glasses while Harper turned pink and tried not to stare at the girl’s perfect breasts. “They’re fake,” Sean whispered to her.
“Yeah, well, obviously.” That didn’t make them less perfect.
Harper looked around. There were beds everywhere and couches scattered around the rooms. On one loveseat, a woman was taking it doggy-style from a man in a leather mask while she ate out a stunning blonde. A full-blown orgy was underway on one of the beds while a circle of onlookers surrounded them.
She felt Sean’s arm around her shoulders as he drew her to him. “Just say the word and I’ll take you home,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
He escorted her to the next room. It used to be a formal dining room, but now the fifteen-foot long table was draped in black vinyl. A man with a chiseled chest had a curvy woman bent over the table. He pulled her hair taut and whipped her ass with a short whip every time he entered her. Three people perched at the opposite end of the table where they kissed, groped and moaned in unison.
“This way,” Sean said. He took her to a back room which was staged with red lights and an artful bondage show took place on a small stage. A rather shy, nerdy-looking man with thick glasses was on the stage. He demonstrated an erotic rope binding technique on a young red-headed girl. “Kinbaku,” Sean said into her ear.
“What?”
“Erotic Japanese rope binding,” he explained.
“Oh.” Several people had gathered and were watching intently. Harper saw one woman slowly circle her hard, exposed nipples but most looked on studiously. As if there would be a test later.
“Look,” Sean whispered. “See that couple over there?” he nodded discreetly towards a burly man on the sidelines. Next to him was a slender girl with dyed purple hair. She wore a thick dog collar with a heavy chain. Harper’s eyes followed the chain all the way to the man’s hand. He had it wrapped around his fist tightly.
“Yeah,” she said.
“And there,” he said, as he gestured to the couple to their left. An older, gorgeous woman with waist-length hair cocked her head as she watched the show. A boy half her age stood dutifully by her side with his eyes downcast.
“What about them?” she asked.
“You see how some are obviously dominants? And some are subs?” he asked.
“You mean the collar?”
“Not just that,” he said. “But, yes, partially. It’s in how they interact.”
She looked closer at the couples around them. A girl with a smattering of moles on her face was pressed close to a man in a leather vest. She kept her lips perpetually parted and her legs just a little bit too far apart.
“Down,” the older woman next to Harper suddenly said, and immediately the boy she was with dropped to all fours. She sat on him lightly, as if he were an ottoman. “That’s good,” she cooed to him softly, and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Oh, my God,” Harper said. Her eyes widened. It was clear there were several “doms” of both genders here. She looked to Sean, but he seemed enraptured by what happened on stage.
“Come,” he said. “A booth opened up.”
Closer to the stage a booth lined in velvet waited. “Now let’s take a look at Sakasa ebi shibari, or reverse shrimp binding,” the man on stage said. He sounded like any professor at a university. “It’s often confused with the basic hog tie, but it’s much more intricate than that. You might also hear it called gyaku ebi. On your stom
ach, please,” he instructed his model.
“What’s your pleasure?” A waiter, nude except for the tiniest of G-strings, appeared at their table. He set two fresh champagne glasses down for them.
“That will be all,” Sean said.
Harper was embarrassed when the waiter caught her as she looked at his bulge. What else am I supposed to look at?
Nervous, she reached for the champagne, but Sean pulled it away from her. “You’ll need to be able to consent, soberly, later,” he said.
She blushed even harder, but tried to relax into the plush velvet.
The reverse shrimp tie looked beyond intricate. It was goddamned impossibly complicated. The warmth of the first, and only, glass of champagne wore off as she watched. Harper was hyper aware of how close Sean sat to her.
His arm, which had rested on the seat back, dropped and he began to stroke her back. As she watched the show, even the innocent brush of his fingertips became erotic.
Though the backs were velvet, they sat on red vinyl seats. The skirt was so short, and her thong so tiny, that she could feel a wetness began to spread below her thighs. She reached for Sean’s thigh and rested her hand on it.
He jumped, though her tough was light. He removed her hand, softly but brusquely. “You have to ask very, very nicely if you want to touch me,” he said. It wasn’t quite a warning, but almost.
“You mean … like all the time?” she asked, confused. She’d certainly touched him before.
“Just tonight. While we’re in this space.”
She looked at his face, at the jaw line that looked as though it had been hand-carved to perfection. A spray of a five o’clock shadow was highlighted in the red lights. “Can I touch you?” she asked.
“No. Not yet,” he said, and returned his attention to the stage.
Still, he continued to stroke her back. She shifted, frustrated and more turned on than ever. That easy display of power, especially how easily he controlled her with it, was nearly unbearable.
She shifted again. Sean got up swiftly and motioned for her to do the same.
When she squeezed out of the booth, he held her close. For a moment, he stopped and stared down at the seat until she did the same. She was embarrassed to see the evidence of her desire on the slick seat. When he was sure she’d seen, he directed her towards the door.
Sean steered her through several rooms. In one, a confessional, erotic poetry recital took place. Next, there was a roped-off section in a room. The sign said WOMEN ONLY, MEN CAN WATCH. Harper stared at the throngs of girls piled on top of each other. In the next room, flogging demonstrations were punctuated with audience members as they followed along.
Finally, they arrived at a staircase. “Do you want to go upstairs? Or keep exploring?” Sean asked her.
She looked up the winding spiral staircase to the depths of darkness above. “Upstairs,” she said.
Did he look indecisive for a moment? She couldn’t be certain because, swiftly, he started to pull her up the stairs.
14
Sean
He was torn as he led her upstairs. Dim sconces lit the way. On one hand, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone. The way she obeyed despite the sparks of fear and unknowing in her eyes was irresistible. God, she’s going to make the perfect submissive, he thought.
On the other hand, with every step they took closer to the bedroom, it might be one step closer to the end. He’d had his share of infatuated women before. They thought his brooding was a façade, another easy project they could fix. He’d never brought any of them as close to his real self as he did Harper, but he knew what could easily be around the corner. Disgust, genuine terror, when she found out who he really was.
Nobody could actually fall in love with you, he reminded himself. Lust, sure. But love? There’s no way. Hell, just ask Ashton.
As he led her down the long corridor, other occupied bedrooms had their doors flung open. Orgies in one room, couples in another. In one bedroom, a girl’s tears drew rivers of mascara down her cheeks and she frothed at the mouth around the ball gag. Sean couldn’t bring himself to look back at Harper’s expression. Other doors were closed, but the sounds of moans, spanks and whips emanated from them.
At the end of the hall, a single unoccupied room was cracked open. Sean paused. “Are you certain you want to go in?” he asked.
He turned to look at her to see her swallow. Harper nodded. He couldn’t get a read on her.
“Speak up,” he said. “Was that a ‘yes, sir’?”
Harper fluttered her lashes and looked down. “Y—yes. Yes, sir,” she said obediently. Quietly.
Fuck, the things she could do. “You make me so fucking hard,” he said. Her eyes shot open.
Sean took her hand and led her through the heavy wooden door. It closed behind them with a loud click. He removed his bowtie and watched her survey the room. “Get undressed.”
Without a pause, she started to kick off her shoes.
“Leave them on,” he instructed. Sean sat back in a black leather seat. Harper peeled off the dress and let it fall to the floor.
As she stepped out of the fallen latex, in just a lace thong and matching bra, he couldn’t believe her dimensions. She had a tiny waist, a wasp’s waist, as if she’d been in waist-training for years. Her hip bones jutted out like fins before angling down to slender thighs and shapely calves.
“Right now, right here in this room, you exist solely for my pleasure,” he said. “You’re here to please me in whatever way I see fit.” He stopped himself, aware of his quickened breath. Sean raised a brow. “Get on with it.”
Red-faced, Harper reached behind her back and unhooked the bra. It fell to the floor beside the forgotten dress. Her nipples were already hard. Pink and perfectly shaped, her small teardrop-shaped breasts were more perfect than he could have imagined. As she bent, straight-backed, to slip off the thong, he watched as her breasts swayed with the movement.
Sean stood and circled her. Her chest rose and fell faster the closer he came. “You’re incredibly fucking hot,” he surmised. “Do you know how hard you make me?”
She shook her head.
“Say it,” he commanded.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“You will soon enough. Before we start, let’s go over your green, yellow and red words.”
“What?”
“Repeat after me. Green is Gomorrah.”
“Green is Gomorrah,” she said softly.
“Yellow is Eden.”
He listened to the waver in her voice as she repeated him.
“And red is inferno.”
“Red is inferno,” she said.
“Repeat them again.”
Harper went through the words in a rush. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to talking during sex.”
“This isn’t sex,” he said. “Not yet. But you’re going to get used to it. Otherwise, how will I know what gets you off?”
She swallowed again and nodded.
“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees,” he instructed.
He watched her crouch on the bed, with nothing but the pink lights in the room to highlight her angles. As he approached her, he considered going to the car to get the bag from the shop. Not yet, he told himself. See how this goes first.
Harper presented her ass to him, and she jumped slightly as he traced his palm against one cheek. Her skin was unbelievably soft. He gave her a soft spank and heard her cry out softly, but she pressed herself into him. “Again?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
He spanked her slightly harder on the other cheek. “Yes, what?” he asked.
“Yes, please. Sir,” she said. He could feel the sting in his own palm and was certain she’d be red the next day.
“On your forearms,” he said. “Show me that pussy.”
As she bent down further, he could see the glistening wetness between her folds. Sean slid a finger across her clit to test her wetness. Harp
er moaned and rubbed against him.
“I didn’t tell you to move,” he said. He removed his hand from her and expected her to protest, to let out some sign of frustration. But she stayed perfectly still. “That’s good,” he said, and slid a finger into her as a reward. “You’re so fucking wet,” he said. “Why is that?”
Harper just moaned again. He felt her muscles clench his finger.
“Tell me why,” he said.
“You,” she whispered.
“Louder,” he commanded.
“You make me wet,” she said. He trailed a finger along her G-spot and felt the rush of wetness slip out of her. With his other hand, he gripped her hair and pulled, fast and hard.
As Harper’s head lifted and her back arched, he started to fuck her with his hand. She gasped writhed beneath him. God, she was exquisite. Her slender shoulders and the swell of her back below him was a vision.
Sean stopped when he knew she was close, and leaned down. “This time was just to see if you could do what you’re told,” he said into her ear. “And you passed with flying colors. Here,” he said, and removed his finger from her. “Taste yourself.”
Harper parted her lips, hungry and sucked as he slipped his dripping finger into her mouth.
“Stay like this,” he said, and lowered himself onto the bed. On his back, between her legs, he gripped her hips and lowered her onto his face.
Her engorged clit told him she wouldn’t last long. Even as her thighs squeezed his face tight, he could hear her cries. “I’m coming,” she panted. He felt her try to lift up, but he clenched her tighter.
She flooded his face and he lapped up her wetness greedily. He teased her clit with light licks, delighted in the tremors that overtook her. Easily, he pulled her down towards him and wrapped the black silk covers over them. He kissed her deep, wanted her to taste her come on his lips.
“Is it your turn now?” she asked, still dazed from the orgasm.
Sean shook his head. “Another time,” he said.
She didn’t argue—but he knew she wouldn’t. There was something special about her, a connection he’d never had with anyone. He’d had glimpses of it before, with girls who were self-declared subs. But those so-called relationships were purely sexual. There was something deeper with Harper.
