by Olivia Chase
He nodded. “Our safe word is ‘blue.’ If you say that word, we will immediately stop whatever it is we’re doing, no questions asked. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
He kissed me again, this time slow and deep, his hands snaking down my back and grabbing my ass.
When we pulled back, his eyes searched mine.
“Do you trust me?” he asked. His eyes were blazing now, his voice commanding, powerful. It wasn’t a plea, or a question. The answer he wanted was obvious.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He took me by the leash and led me down the hall.
When we got to the end of the hall, we were standing in a circular room. It was dim and it took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a moment, two shadowy figures came into focus.
A woman, dressed in a leather bodysuit, was crawling across the floor toward a man holding a whip. When she got close, he smacked her on the ass. She moaned in pleasure, and he reached down and placed a ball gag in her mouth.
There was a raised perimeter around the room, with tiny two-person tables set up. Men and women sat at the tables, watching the man with the whip as he placed another lash on the woman’s ass.
“Do you want to stay and watch?” Noah asked.
I quickly shook my head no. I wasn’t ready for that. Watching this man and woman seemed like an intrusion on one of their most intimate moments. I knew they wouldn’t have been doing it in front of everyone if they weren’t turned on by it, if they didn’t want an audience. But it still felt wrong somehow.
Noah laughed and pulled me toward a door off the main room. It was black, with no windows, and a tiny little indicator light on the outside of the door was green.
“What does the green mean?” I asked.
“It means no one’s in here.” He pushed open the door and pulled me inside.
The room was about the size of a small bedroom. There was a folding table covered with a pad in the middle of it, and a rack on the wall that was filled with whips and chains and things I didn’t recognize.
My pulse raced and I turned around and looked at Noah. He closed the door behind him and dimmed the lights.
“Charlotte,” he breathed, pulling me into his arms. “Tonight, your training begins.”
“My… training?”
“Yes, your training.” He reached onto the wall and selected a paddle.
I licked my lips, suddenly nervous.
“Stand in the middle of the room, Charlotte.”
I did as I was told.
He walked around me, taking me in, looking at my body critically. He pushed my dress up with the paddle, ran his hand over my ass. I was wearing a black thong. “First rule,” Noah said. “You will always wear thongs. Matching bras. You will always be ready to strip down and let me see that beautiful body whenever I wish. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said.
He held my dress up with one hand and slapped me on the ass with the paddle. “Take your dress off, Charlotte.”
I did as I was told, pulling it off and dropping it onto the floor.
The cold air hit my nipples, instantly hardening them.
Noah reached out and pulled the cups of my bra down roughly, exposing my breasts. He reached out and grabbed my nipple, twisting it until I cried out. I was so turned on I could hardly take it. It was exciting, standing here, having him look at me, being on display for him, having him use my body for whatever he wanted.
“Get on your knees, Charlotte,” he commanded.
I dropped.
He walked to the other side of the room and stared down at me, his eyes a fiery inferno. “Crawl to me,” he demanded.
I did as he said, moving across the floor on my hands and knees, my ass up in the air, my breasts out, my eyes on his.
When got to him, he reached down and gathered my hair in his hands, bent down and kissed me hard on the mouth.
“Tonight,” he rasped. “Tonight, Charlotte, you are mine.” He took a pair of handcuffs off the rack on the wall and handcuffed my hands behind my back.
My breath was coming in short bursts, my heart pounding. He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his cock. A moan escaped my lips, and my nipples tightened even more.
He grabbed me by the hair and pushed his dick against my lips. I opened to accept it, but he pulled back.
“Not until I say,” he said.
He rubbed the head all over my lips, and I could feel them getting wet with his precum. The teasing was driving me crazy. I wanted to suck him, wanted to feel him fill my mouth and cum down my throat.
“Beg me,” he commanded.
“Please,” I whimpered.
“Please what?’ he prompted. His hand was moving up and down his shaft, his dick right in front of my face.
“Please let me suck your cock.”
“Open your mouth.”
I opened my mouth, and he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, then slapped his dick on my cheek.
“Stick out your tongue.”
I stuck my tongue out, and he slapped his dick on it. He tasted salty and sexy, and I wanted more. I tried to move toward him, but he yanked my head back again and took his dick away.
“No,” he growled.
“I’m sorry,” I pleaded. “Please, let me suck it.”
“Suck what, Charlotte?”
“Your cock,” I moaned. “Please let me suck your cock.”
He slapped it against my face again, then ran it over my tongue. He pushed my head down on his dick for a few beats, and I sucked him, loving the way he felt in my mouth. But after a moment, he took it away.
He reached down and undid my handcuffs.
“Crawl to the table, Charlotte,” he said.
I crawled to the table that was in the middle of the room. It looked almost like a doctor’s table, covered in a soft black material.
He picked me up and laid me down.
He leaned down and kissed my stomach, sliding his tongue down over my belly button until he got to the top of my panties. “Lift your legs.”
I lifted my legs and Noah reached down and pulled my panties off, the silky fabric brushing against my skin as he slid them slowly down my legs, teasing me. He grabbed my knees and pushed them back so he could get a good view of my pussy.
“Mmm,” he moaned and moved toward me, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing it all over my slit. “You have the sweetest little pussy.”
“Fuck me,” I begged. “Please, Noah, I need to be fucked.”
“Not yet, baby,” he said. “First you’re gonna play with that pussy for me.”
He took my hand and guided it between my legs. “There you go, baby,” he said. “Show me how you play with yourself.”
My fingers moved up and down over my clit rubbing myself as he stroked his cock, moving it closer and closer to my hole. My hand reached out and tried to move him inside of me, but he grabbed my hand and pushed it up over my head.
“So it’s going to be like that, huh?” he growled. He grabbed the wrist cuffs that were hanging down from the end of the table and tied me down.
Then he moved so he was standing at the front of the table. I gazed up at him, admiring his beauty once again. He was muscular and cut and built everywhere – broad shoulders, perfect washboard abs, pecs seemingly carved out of stone.
He stood behind me and stuck his dick in front of my mouth. “Open,” he instructed.
I did, and this time, he let me suck him.
He filled my mouth, his dick hard and smooth against my tongue. He reached down and grabbed one of my breasts, his hips thrusting into my mouth, faster and faster, his cock ramming the back of my throat.
His hand moved from my breasts, grazing my stomach, my hips, stroking my thighs until finally landing on my pussy. He slid a finger inside of me, then began fucking me with his finger, faster and faster, matching it to the rhythm of his hip thrusts.
I sucked his dick while he finger fucked me, liking the feeli
ng of being filled in two holes at once.
Finally, he pulled out and moved to the edge of the table, picking up my legs and pushing them back until he was positioned right over my pussy. He ran a finger over my face, sliding his finger into my mouth so I could taste myself.
I felt like I was going to explode.
He pushed my legs back and took me.
He thrust into me, his need taking over as he fucked me, harder and harder.
I couldn’t take it any longer, and I came, crying out against his shoulder, his hands hooked around my shoulders, holding me tight as he moved inside of me.
A second later, his orgasm overtook him, and I felt him fill my center.
He pulled out and kissed me on the lips.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, stroking my hair.
He held me like that for a long moment, the two of us just gazing at each other, his lips meeting mine every so often.
And I realized that he’d been right.
I felt closer to him now than I ever had.
It didn’t last.
Once we were outside and in the back of Noah’s limo, I instantly became self-conscious. The sex had been amazing, a complete turn-on as he’d tied me down to a table, made me crawl to him, grabbed my hair and practically choked me with his cock.
But we’d been at a BDSM club. The women there were elegant and gorgeous, the men obviously used to being with women of that caliber. But besides the obviously physical discrepancies between me and those other women, was the fact that I worried we hadn’t pushed it far enough for him.
Obviously these were the kind of things that turned Noah on, the kind of things he expected from someone he was going to be with. And I was beginning to realize it turned me on, too. I loved being submissive, loved not knowing how far things were going to go, how far he was going to push me, what he was going to do to me. I was completely at his mercy, and it made me breathless.
But then I thought about that girl in the club, the one in the open room. She was wearing a leather body suit and walking toward that man with the whip. And then there was the rack of instruments that were hanging on the wall in the room Noah and I had been in.
We hadn’t even used many of them. Was I enough for him? Was he holding back because of me? And if he was, how far would I ever be comfortable taking things between us? How far did he expect us to go? I liked what we were doing, but I wasn’t sure how I would feel if he tried to take it any further.
“You’re quiet, Charlotte,” Noah said as his limo made his way toward my house. “Did you have a nice time tonight?”
“Yes.” I didn’t like that he was using the word ‘nice’. You weren’t supposed to be having a nice time at a BDSM club. You were supposed to have a mind-blowing time, or an insane time, or even just an amazing time.
“Then why do you seem upset?”
“I’m not upset.” I twisted my hands on my lap and he reached over and took them in his.
His hands were big and warm, soft and comforting. “Charlotte,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I just… “ I swallowed. “I had an amazing time, what we did was… I loved it. But I can’t help but feel like maybe it wasn’t what you were hoping for.”
“What I was hoping for?” He frowned, his forehead crinkling in confusion.
“Yes. I felt like maybe you wanted more from me.”
“Look at me when you’re speaking.”
I looked at him, falling into his eyes.
“You are more than enough for me, Charlotte. Tonight was more than I could have hoped for.”
“But those women, the things they do…”
“Shh.” He put his finger against my lips, silencing me. “This is a journey, Charlotte. It’s not something that’s taken on in one night, or even one week. You will be trained properly, in all aspects of submission, not just the sexual ones.”
“What other aspects are there?” I asked.
“Enjoy the moment, Charlotte. Don’t worry about that right now.”
We were pulling up in front of my apartment now, and he leaned over and kissed my lips softly.
“Goodbye, Charlotte,” he said. “Try to get some sleep.”
“Goodbye, Noah.”
I stepped out of the limo and made my way into the lobby of my apartment building, feeling confused all over again. There’d been that perfect moment after we’d both come, the way he’d lain his body over mine, enveloping me, kissing me, making me feel safe and protected. Even just now, in the back of his limo, he’d been understanding and wonderful.
I’d felt so close to him.
But now here I was, alone, spending the night at my apartment by myself. I wished he’d invited me back to his house, or at least…. I don’t know. I’d said I’d wanted to get to know him, to get close to him, and for a brief moment, I’d felt like I had.
Now I felt like I was back at square one.
Not to mention I’d confronted him about those pictures, the ones of Nora and Dani and the marks on their wrists, and he’d somehow been able to convince me it meant nothing. I reached into my messenger bag and ran my finger over the file folder.
I thought about how naïve I’d been, marching into that club to confront him. I never should have gone tonight. This was how I imagined a drug addict must feel after a hit or a binge – you do something knowing you shouldn’t, trying to convince yourself it’s going to be different this time, that you can control it. But at the end of the day, you end up in exactly the same place, confused, depressed, full of regret.
You swear it off until the craving becomes too much, and then the cycle starts all over again.
I pulled out the key to my apartment and slid it into the lock, but the door was already open. Julia, my roommate, must have been home, which was strange for her at this time of night. She was usually out and about, gallivanting around the city with whatever theatre friends of hers she’d collected since she moved here about a year ago. She slept during the day when I was at class, and then was out all night, usually not getting home until five or six in the morning, when she’d collapse into bed and fall asleep.
It worked out perfectly for me. Julia was nice enough, and I liked the idea of living with someone, of someone else having a presence in the apartment so I wasn’t always there alone.
But I liked my alone time too, liked that I could stay at the library on campus until eight or nine at night then come home to a quiet apartment, make a tea or a coffee and study in my living room or kitchen or bedroom, not having to worry about noise or bothering someone if I decided to make myself a late-night study snack at two am.
I opened the door to my apartment and walked inside.
The smell of something cooking came wafting from the kitchen, and I frowned. It was a foreign smell – not that the food was foreign, but that it was coming from my kitchen was strange to me. Julia and I didn’t cook. I was pretty sure our oven still had the sticker on it from when they replaced it right before we moved in – it was one of the things mentioned in our rental ad. New appliances. I’d looked at it as a plus at the time because they looked nice, not because I planned on doing any cooking.
“Hey,” I said to Julia.
She was standing by the stove, stirring something with a wooden spoon. She had on a pair of stretchy black leggings and a sheer white t-shirt, her long blonde hair gathered into a messy bun on the top of her head. Julia had the typical dancer’s body – tall and thin, with hardly any curves. Her face wasn’t what you would consider classically pretty – her nose was a shade too big, her lips a tiny bit too thin. But her eyes were wide and blue, and she had that sort of weird exotic look a lot of runway models had, the kind of look that men went crazy over.
“Taste this,” she said, holding a spoon of spaghetti sauce out to me. “Is it too salty?”
I tasted. “A little,” I admitted. “Maybe add some sugar to it. That’s what my mom used to do.”
“Good idea.” She went to reach for th
e sugar, and then she glanced at me. “Um, so this might be weird, I’m not sure.”
“What? To put sugar in spaghetti sauce?” I wondered what she would do if she knew what I’d been up to tonight, that I was at a BDSM club with a man who might have been a murderer, a man who I was representing in a professional capacity.
“No, not that.” She pushed her bangs off her forehead. “Josh is here.”
“Josh?” I frowned.
“Yeah, you know Josh from your school? I ran into him at the bar downstairs.” She bit her lip and looked at me expectantly.
“How do you even know Josh?”
“Remember that time he came over to drop off that assignment for you? I was on my way out the door, and you introduced us, and we ended up walking down to the lobby together. I guess he remembered me when he saw me at the bar.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure why she would think it was weird. The thought of Josh in my apartment wasn’t a big deal, but maybe Julia wanted to have sex with him? Was she going to ask me to leave so they could have some privacy?
“I wasn’t sure what the deal was with you two.” She was watching for my reaction intently.
And then I got it. She thought maybe I had a thing for Josh. Which I didn’t. I never had. Josh was cute in that typical frat boy kind of way that most women went for. I found him a little grating, and he was obnoxious in class, trying to prove what he knew instead of just letting his smarts speak for themselves through his work.
“Me and Josh?” I said. “There’s no deal with us. We’re not even that great of friends. You should totally go for it.”
“Thanks.” Julia gave me a smile. “How was your date?”
“It was good,” I said, trying to sound noncommittal.
I could tell she was going to ask me how it went, and I didn’t really want to talk about it. All I’d told her was that I was going out with a man I’d met at a bar, which wasn’t technically a lie.
I yawned quickly and stretched my arms behind my head. “But now I’m exhausted. I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay,” she said, winking at me. “We’ll try to keep it down.”
“Where is Josh, anyway?” I asked.
