by Lila Munro
Identity Crisis
written by Lila Munro
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Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
Cover Artist: Carl J. Franklin
Editor: Dawn Lyons
First Edition ©2011,
Rebel Ink Press
www.rebelinkpress.com
Chapter One
An electric hum sizzled across Tori Dearborn’s sun kissed skin, setting the tiny hairs on her arms and on the back of her neck on edge as she stared at the outfit hanging on the back of the closet door in her bedroom. It was quite a number. A set of red leather chaps accompanied a red leather corset and matching g-string. Tori walked over and buried her face in the material, inhaling deeply, as a slow, delicious warmth enveloped her, sending a dull ache straight to the core of her womb. Leather. New leather. God how that smell turned her on.
Tori reluctantly pulled her face away from the chaps long enough to notice the accessories set upon her satin covered pillow alongside an envelope. She walked over and picked up the red leather handcuffs. Her fingers glided over the smooth edges of the restraints and she wished her husband was home right this minute to try the new toy out on her. But Chad was away on business. It was the first time in their five year marriage he’d miss their anniversary, but clearly by the gifts he’d left behind, he was anticipating quite a homecoming to make up for it.
Never in her wildest imagination would Tori have thought to marry someone like Chad Dearborn. Not only was he a successful VP at a top notch land development firm, he’d had the good fortune of growing up in the lap of luxury. He received the best private education money could buy and all the amenities that came with the wealth his family had amassed. Private country club memberships, music instruction from some of the world’s elite musicians, summers in the Caymans and winters in the European Alps. Even though there was nothing beyond his reach, Chad was the most conservative, restrained man Tori had ever known. And when he discovered her lifestyle choices, Chad was less than thrilled, but he professed a love so deep for Tori he agreed to find a way to make their relationship work. Creative compromise he’d called it.
For three hundred sixty two days a year, Tori would be the model conservative wife. She would dress appropriately for the club, mingle in all the right circles and attend all the necessary functions. But that wasn’t to say that the lifestyle she loved was completely absent those three hundred sixty two days. In the privacy of their own home, Tori sat at Chad’s feet and he fed her. He put her on a pedestal and she wanted for nothing. And in the bedroom he would occasionally pull out a silk scarf and blindfold her. But the full on, leather and bondage games that Tori thrived on were restricted to just three special days a year. On those days—
Christmas Eve, Tori’s birthday, and her and Chad’s anniversary, Tori was allowed to be the leather loving submissive Chad found in a less than conservative club one night while he was out rebelling against his parents desires for him to marry a stick figure Barbie from the Hamptons.
It wasn’t love at first sight by any means. In fact, Tori resisted Chad with sass and even tried to turn him off.
“Hey, Tori,” J.C., Tori’s best friend, said. “Baby Trump over there’s giving you the eye.”
“You mean Richie Rich?” Tori laughed. She’d noticed him when he first walked into Vertigo.
“I don’t think he realizes he’s not in Kansas anymore.”
The man J.C. referred to sat at the end of the long stainless steel bar in his faded low slung Lucky jeans and indigo ED Hardy tee shirt. He stuck out like a sore thumb as everyone around him was wearing black or red and most of the attire was leather or latex. Tori could plainly tell he didn’t belong in a club like Vertigo, but he didn’t seem daunted by the fact that he was an anomaly. In fact, he made himself at home on the black leather bar stool with the big silver rivets all around the edges. Completely oblivious to anyone else, he nursed a tumbler of whiskey and stared at Tori.
“Maybe you should take him on the tornado tour.” J.C. laughed cynically as she twirled her flogger around her wrist.
“I don’t think he’s my type, J.C. Maybe you should be the one to break him in…not so gently.
He looks like a sub to me. He’s more your type.”
J.C. jumped from her stool and left Tori’s side. She walked the length of the bar and stopped beside the man that didn’t belong. After a few words, J.C. came back and took up residence on the stool next to Tori.
“Well, Madame? Any luck?” Tori asked as she took another sip of her Royal Flush.
“Nope. He says to tell you someday he’s gonna marry you,” J.C. told her, laughing again.
“Whatever. He’s just another rich boy out to sow his wild oats before settling down with whichever playmate of the year mommy and daddy have picked for him.” Tori hopped off her stool. “However, he’s the worst dressed guy I’ve ever seen in here. Most of the players at least try to fit in for their one night of glory.”
Tori’s eyes met the man’s and she maintained that contact as she walked across the dance floor to a Master named Rio and sank to her knees in front of him. Rio wasn’t a Master by accident. He could take a submissive where he or she wanted to go so well, they often times never realized the trip was so painful. Never breaking eye contact with the man on the stool, Tori allowed Rio to claim her for the night. Rio ran his big hand down the thin silver chain that hung on his belt, took the clasp at the end and attached it to the open lock Tori wore on the collar around her neck. She shot the man a taunting smile, winked, and pulled her bright blue eyes from his rich chocolate ones as Rio led her away to a private room.
It wasn’t until the third week in a row of the straight-laced, vanilla looking preppie coming into Vertigo that Tori finally approached him. For nearly a month he’d made his presence known, ordered a whiskey, sat on the end bar stool and watched as Tori surrendered to another man and left the bar area to go to a private room to enjoy her Dom’s company. Every time the man came into Vertigo, someone would approach him but he refused every single advance. Each time he sent Tori the same message—someday he was gonna marry her. Right.
She didn’t know what he was smoking or what he might be having with his whiskey, but Cinderella didn’t wear leather.
“Just what the hell is your game, anyway?” Tori asked the man when she finally submitted to his patience.
“No game. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and someday I plan to make you my wife,”
the man answered, smiling.
It was the first time he’d smiled since he’d been coming to the club. Normally he just shared in their staring contest without flinching. But now Tori realized his smile was nice and it warmed her heart.
“You don’t even know me.” Tori licked her bottom lip and drew it under her teeth while staring at his perfect mouth. A mouth she longed to taste.
“What’s your name?”
“Tori.”
“Tori what?” he pried further.
“Tori Myers.”
“I’m Chad. Chad Dearborn,” he said and stuck out his hand. “Now we know each other.”
“Do you have any idea where you are, Chad Dearborn?” Tori asked as she shook his hand, noting that his grip was quite strong and his skin was smooth. She glanced down and saw his nails were neatly manicured as well. “Are you gay?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Your nails,” Tori started and looked up to see the confusion in his eyes. He really was lost.
“Never mind. You don’t really know what goes on in here, do you?”
“I have a good idea. I can’t say I know what to do, but I’m pretty sure I know what goes on.”
“Wanna watch?” Tori asked, giving him a wicked grin. “Maybe after you see what I like, you’ll change your mind and go back to Kansas.”
“Kansas?”
“Never mind.” Tori took his hand and laughed. “Come on. Rio never minds sharing. I’ve never been shared, but there’s a first time for everything. Right?” With a smile on her face as she remembered the first night Chad agreed to play one of her games, Tori laid the handcuffs down and picked up the new collar. It was red velvet and studded with diamonds. Fifteen of them to be exact, each at least a half carat in weight. The clasp and lock were platinum and were also encrusted with diamond chips. Chad had gone all out this year and apparently, he was ready to play. He hadn’t been so eager that first night though. In fact, Tori had to tell him to leave.
Chad’s face was filled with curiosity as well as fear as he watched Rio shackle a spread eagle Tori between two posts in the public viewing room. It was as if Chad was debating whether he really wanted to watch or not.
“You sure you’re into this, man?” Rio asked, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“This life isn’t for everyone, but if you want Tori and you’re willing to learn, I’ll teach you.”
“I’m not sure I can,” Chad said in a wavering voice. “But I know I want her, and if this is what it takes to convince her, then I’m willing to try.”
Tori watched as Rio led Chad closer. Rio showed Chad where to stand and told him what was expected of a Dom in this position. Strength. He was to be Tori’s strength. It was a simple enough task. Be the strength. At least Tori thought it was simple enough. Be the strength. It was the basic rule upon which all others were built.
“You’re gonna give Tori her strength, Chad,” Rio said, looking straight into the other man’s eyes.
“How? How do I do that from here when I’m not allowed to touch?” Chad asked, fisting his hands as his sides.
“Through your voice and your eyes. You feed it to her through your eyes. Don’t let her look away.”
Chad nodded his head and turned to look at Tori. She was breathless at just the anticipation of what was to come. Tori craved the heat that would flood through her and puddle between her legs as the biting stings of Rio’s whip caressed her back. Depending on Chad to do his part, Tori held her head high and locked her eyes on his. The whirring of leather against air filled her ears as the first strike fell. Chad’s mouth dropped open but not one sound emerged. No praise of her strength of any kind crossed his lips. Snap! Again, Rio delivered a sharp blow to her back and Tori bit back a cry.
“Tori?” Chad whispered hesitantly. His pupils looked like saucers as disbelief and pain swirled in them. “I…”
“Talk to her, Chad,” Rio demanded, administering yet another blow. “Tell her she’s strong, give her the power to please you.”
Chad took two more steps toward Tori and stood with more fortitude his doubt seeming to melt away, replaced by a stance of command.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he said, looking into her eyes, pointing at his. “Look at me.
You’re so strong, but you can lean on me. I’m right here. If you need reassurance, just look at me.”
Tori was shocked that something instinctive took over and Chad found the right things to say to her. She’d never have thought the makings of a Dom were inside this evidently spoiled, sheltered, rich boy. When Tori’s whimpers turned to cries, Rio stopped. He unshackled her and started to lead her away with Chad not far behind.
“Where are you going with her?” Chad asked.
“To a private room,” Rio said, stopping and turning back. “She needs relief.”
“Of course, pain meds or something.” Chad took a few steps and stopped at the sound of Tori’s voice.
“No, Chad, not that kind of relief,” Tori whispered. “It’s not the sting on my back that needs attention as much as the pain between my legs. Unless you can stand to see another man fuck me, or you can stand to share me, you need to leave.”
“Another man? I thought…”
“Thought what? I was kidding about the sharing part? That Rio would do all the work and let you reap the reward? I’m not yours. If you want me, you have to claim me. You haven’t yet, Rio has. And unless you can share, you need to leave.”
The look on Chad’s face twisted Tori’s heart. Tori knew that although Chad had passed the first test, he wasn’t yet able to relieve the ache in her pussy, and he couldn’t stand to see Rio do it. He had to go.
“Go, Chad. This isn’t your lifestyle. You’ve seen enough for one night. Leave. Go back to your silver lined palace and forget you ever met me,” Tori told him as Rio tugged the chain attached to her studded black collar and she followed, tears flooding her eyes. Tears born of the pain biting the tender flesh of her back, the throb that steadily thrummed in her pussy, and the shredding sensation that encompassed her heart.
Tori could write a book about what she didn’t know then…
Chapter Two
The stretch limo provided to Chad by Dearborn Incorporated stopped in front of the St.
Louis Arch Hyatt and a bell hop hurried to the curb. The driver opened the door and Chad stepped out into the brisk Midwestern breeze. The chill in the air bit his cheeks as he squinted against the late afternoon sun glaring off the top of the Arch that stood across the street.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Dearborn,” the bell hop greeted. “How was your flight, sir?”
“Good,” Chad replied, stepping away from the limo. “Without incident for the most part, smooth, just like I like it. Is everything ready upstairs?”
“Yes, Mr. Dearborn. And your friend, Ren, is on his way over. He called earlier and said he’d be by around dinner time.”
“Very good,” Chad said as the driver set his bag on the curb for the bell hop to retrieve.
“Thank you, Robert,” Chad offered. “Don’t forget where you need to be tomorrow evening at eight.”
“I won’t sir. Your wife will be waiting in the lobby. I’m to deliver her to her destination.”
“That’s right. And this is our little secret. Dad doesn’t need to know where my wife will be tomorrow evening. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Dearborn. Perfectly.” Robert smiled, slammed the trunk shut and got back in the limo.
“Both suites are ready, Mr. Dearborn.” The hotel worker said, picking up Chad’s bag and leading the way to the lobby. “One for you and your friend, and the adjoining one for your wife.
Everything you asked for has been ordered and will be here no later than noon tomorrow.”
“Very good,” Chad answered, following the bell hop into the waiting elevator which took them to the top floor.
“I’ll have dinner sent up shortly. Your bar has been fully stocked and the
re are extra towels in the bathroom.” The man opened the door to Chad’s suite and set his bag inside, then handed him the key card to the room and turned to leave.
“Thank you,” Chad said. “And remember, if my wife calls, tell her I’m out with clients and I’ll return her call as soon as possible. She’s to know nothing about who I’m with or what we’re doing, or what I’m doing tomorrow evening for that matter.”
“Yes, sir,” the man answered, taking the fifty dollar bill Chad handed him.
Once the bell hop disappeared back inside the elevator, Chad stepped inside the room to find some of the things he’d ordered already there waiting. His and Ren’s clothing for their evening out with Tori were on hangers in the entry way closet—black leather pants, black turtle neck tees and full hoods. Two pair of leather boots sat beneath the hangers and a package in plain brown wrapping was on the end of the bed. Chad walked over and ran his finger along the edge and smiled before tearing the paper off and opening the box. The contents—one brand new black whip with a red leather handle. Ren had taste, Chad would give him that much.
After toeing off his Cordovan loafers and carefully hanging his corduroy jacket on the back of the chair at the desk, Chad flipped the lock that led to the adjoining suite to ensure Tori’s room was ready. If all went as planned, she’d arrive around noon tomorrow and he wanted to make sure she was completely taken care of. It was their anniversary and Chad had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure this weekend went off without a hitch for her. The staff had done exactly as he’d ordered. Vases upon vases of platinum roses filled the suite, their sweet odor permeating the air. The bed had been made up with linens Chad purchased and had sent over especially for his wife. Red satin sheets graced the king sized bed and a black comforter topped it. A basket filled with every variety of Godiva chocolate ever made sat on the cocktail table along with the silver bucket that a bottle of Cristal would be iced down in before her arrival tomorrow. Leaving the bedroom, Chad went into Tori’s bathroom to ensure it had been set up to his satisfaction. A dozen black Horchow towels graced the rack and an enormous basket filled with Juicy Couture products sat ready near the garden tub.
