Heart of Submission

by Claire Thompson

  "Saunders doesn't do public play parties,"

  Brighton announced, speaking for him and heartily annoying Chase in the process. Hiding his annoyance, Chase focused on Ashley.

  "Actually I do from time to time. In fact, I was thinking of coming tonight. I'd be delighted to show you some sensual bondage positions we didn't get a chance to review at the workshop. I have some beautiful new rope I made myself. Soft as satin against your skin, but strong as steel."

  "Ashley's not interested in bondage. She's aching to feel the satisfying sting of my cane, aren't you?"

  Brighton interrupted, his eyes on Ashley.

  She looked flustered, a spot of red appearing on each soft cheek.

  "Oh, I, uh, I haven't really decided if I'm even going to—"

  "Oh, you're going to, all right,"

  Stacey interrupted, her round face creasing into a broad grin.

  "Remember our talk. You promised."

  Chase could see Ashley was feeling put on the spot, and hated to think he'd been a part of that.

  "Okay guys," he said.

  "We can all back off now. It's not good etiquette to pressure someone to do a scene. I'm sure we all agree on that,"

  he added pointedly, glaring at Brighton. He refused to compete with the guy for a scene with

  Ashley, as if she were an object to be won. Turning back to her, he said,

  "We can talk about this later. No need to make decisions now. If you decide to do a scene tonight, it's got to be your decision, based on your desires and expectations, not

  someone else's."

  Ashley nodded and flashed him a grateful smile. Chase felt as if she'd reached right in and squeezed his heart. He put his hand lightly on her bare shoulder, unprepared for the electrical current of raw desire that shot through him when he touched her. He withdrew his hand, hoping his voice was steady. Jesus, was he losing his mind?

  "I'll hook up with you later, okay?" he said, avoiding the curious stares of Stacey,

  William and Amber, and the knowing leer of that bastard, Brighton.

  ****

  Kate was sitting in one of the folding chairs in front of the stage, waiting for the seminar on discipline and correction in a Master/slave relationship put on by a speaker she hadn't heard yet. She figured she'd get some good information there for her novel, if nothing else. Stacey had opted to nap instead, after extracting a promise from Kate that she'd agree to a scene with someone.

  "You could do worse than Chase," Stacey had advised, once they were alone.

  "He's hot in his own quiet way, and really knows his way around a piece of rope. Now, Master John..."

  Stacey caressed the words, stroked them.

  "John..." she said again, a dreamy expression n her face.

  "Shit, he's so good looking you almost don't care if he knows what he's doing or not, you know? Man, I could eat that guy with a spoon. No, forget the spoon!" She laughed, but added,

  "Seriously, though, Chase is right. It's your choice. Must be nice to have two guys fighting over you. Maybe if I lost fifty pounds, they'd be fighting over me."

  Speaking of the devil, Master John suddenly appeared, settling into the empty seat beside Kate.

  "Hey," he said, putting his hand lightly on her thigh.

  "Fancy meeting you here."

  "Hi," she answered, looking down at his hand on her thigh.

  He removed it, brushing his fingers along her skin as he did, his eyes hooding.

  "So, you given thought to your scene tonight? You ready to experience the raw power of a sensual caning? I'll take you slowly, building your tolerance for the sting until you're begging for more. Would you like that, Ashley? Would you like to feel the erotic sting of my cane?"

  Kate swallowed, aroused by his words. Yes, she wanted it, but she was afraid. If only she knew him better. If only it didn't have to be in a public venue, with people watching...

  "Are you afraid?" he asked softly, as if listening in on her thoughts.

  "Yes," she admitted, looking into his handsome face.

  "It's okay. A little fear is a good thing. It heightens the experience. Trust me. I know what you need. I'll teach you what it is to suffer and soar with ecstasy. With me you'll find the Master that until now you only dreamed of."

  He put his hand again on her thigh. Kate found herself suppressing the urge to laugh at his pompous words. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the thrill of desire sparking through her from his touch.

  ****

  "It's better this way," Chase tried to tell himself.

  "You don't do public scenes. You can get her number. You can call her sometime, ask her out for a drink. Get to know her the right way. Your way."

  Though he knew this was wise advice, and the right course, he had a hard time swallowing the bile of jealousy and lost opportunity rising in his throat. As he'd feared, Brighton had gotten to Ashley before he had, and talked her into a scene.

  Chase finally managed to get a few moments alone with Ashley.

  Aware it might sound like sour grapes, but feeling a certain responsibility for a woman who didn't really seem to know what she was getting herself into, he had gently asked

  her about her experience with canes and erotic pain in general.

  "I've had enough to know what I want," she'd retorted, taking offense where none was meant.

  He'd felt a fool, but had persisted, "Okay. Just be careful.

  Brighton, er, Master John, has a reputation for being a little, uh, intense. I just want to caution you to follow your own instincts. If you're not comfortable with what's happening, speak up. There's no dishonor in using your safeword either, if you need it. Okay?"

  She'd looked frightened at that remark, and he'd

  backpedaled, embarrassed to be putting his nose where it wasn't invited, after all, he barely knew this woman. She might be the biggest pain slut in the place for all he knew. But no, his intuition told him otherwise, and his intuition

  was rarely wrong, especially as it pertained to submissive women. It wasn't something he bragged about, or even thought about that much, but he had a knack, an ability to

  listen to their bodies, to gauge their reactions and cues even before they spoke, especially during D/s play. Ashley was eager, interested and completely inexperienced. A caning scene with John Brighton was not the ideal way to introduce

  her to the pleasures of erotic pain, of that he was pretty sure.

  Oh well. She hadn't consulted him on the matter. She'd chosen Brighton over him, and that was that. He glanced at his watch.

  Eight o'clock. He turned on the shower in the

  bathroom of his small but comfortable house in Queens.

  He would shave and dress and return for the party.

  He would attend as a kind of back up for Ashley. One thing he could do was be around. Just in case she got in a little over her head. He'd be there for her, her safe place if things got a little crazy, as they sometimes did at these play parties.

  That wasn't the only reason he was going. In the back of his mind, he realized he was actually considering a public scene with her. He could imagine her bound in his ropes, suspended in a bondage swing, her body offered for him to touch, to taste, to explore.

  For the first time since Lisa, his blood was thrumming, his bruised heart beating with the pulse of a new desire. Something about Ashley had got hold of him, and he couldn't

  shake it. When he'd seen her in that little sundress, he wanted to pull down the narrow straps

  from her shoulders. He wanted to see her dress drop at her feet in a puddle, and watch her step out of it, standing tall and proud, offering her body to him.

  He wanted to trace his tongue along the curve of her throat, and pull her close to feel the sweetness of her skin, the soft touch of her lips. He would kiss her lightly at first, his lips just grazing hers. He wanted to feel the moment her hand moved beneath the cotton of his shirt when she touched, for the very first time, the skin of his body. He w
anted her to kneel submissively at his feet, lifting her chin, parting her lips, eager for his cock, for his offering, for his taking what was his.

  He wanted to hear the sounds that came from her throat when she had no breath left, when she was breathless with desire. He wanted to possess her, to enter her bloodstream like a drug, like a rush of ecstasy.

  His cock was erect with desire for a woman beyond his reach. He was powerless now, the wheels of a scene with another guy already set in motion. He felt like the enchanted frog in a fairy tale, watching while his princess kissed the wrong guy. Loneliness moved like fire beneath his skin.

  Closing his eyes, he lifted his face to the water, almost wishing he'd never laid eyes on her.

  ****

  "I really can't believe I let you talk me into this."

  Kate preened in front of the mirror, turning this way and that in her black satin waist cincher. She'd drawn the line at the skintight miniskirt Stacey had tried to convince her to get at the Village fetish shop where they'd bought the cincher. Instead she'd opted for a sheer white skirt that fell in lush folds to mid-calf. It was sexy without being too revealing. Beneath it she wore white thigh highs with lace tops. Though Stacey had encouraged her to go without, Kate had insisted on the black lace thong as well.

  "I like the effect," Stacey pronounced. "The dark and the light, the naughty and the pure. You're like halfway between an angel and a whore."

  "Every man's dream, right?"

  Kate laughed to hide her nervousness. She could hardly believe this was happening. She was going to scene with

  Master John! God, what if she messed up? Wimped out?

  Chase's advice had unnerved her.

  "You know," she said, turning to Stacey.

  "Chase Saunders kind of warned me to watch out with Master John. Said he could get a little intense. I think that's the word he used."

  Stacey laughed.

  "Consider the source. He's jealous. He made a bid for you and lost. Sure he's gonna trash the other guy. A sort of 'I told you'

  kind of thing in advance."

  Stacey rubbed her hands together and waggled her

  eyebrows.

  "Anyway, intense is good. It's perfect for sensation junkies.

  That's what we are, you know, or what any masochistic sub girl worth her salt is a sensation junkie. Mere pleasure is not enough.

  We crave the feel of being restrained, the added thrill of the pain. And trust me, Master John will give you all that and more."

  "That," Kate admitted, hugging herself, "is what I'm afraid of."

  "A little fear," Stacey said, unconsciously echoing Master John's earlier assertion, "is a good thing."

  CHAPTER 5

  Stacey abandoned Kate nearly the moment they entered

  the dungeon. Two tall, good looking men had invited

  Stacey and Kate to join a scene with them that involved an electric bondage board and a cattle prod. Stacey agreed immediately, while Kate demurred, relieved she had the ready excuse of a scene with Master John.

  "Too bad you're already busy," Stacey said with a wink.

  "Nothing like a few jolts to get the heart going."

  Left alone, Kate saw Chase Saunders arrive, looking sort of out of place in his faded blue jeans, though at least this time his shirt was black. She started to go over and say hi, but was distracted by Master John, who appeared suddenly in front of her.

  He was wearing a white linen shirt open at the throat, the skin tan beneath it. Black leather pants that look soft as butter molded to his legs and muscular ass. Kate tried not to stare at the sexy bulge at his crotch.

  "Like what you see?"

  Master John's eyes were half closed, one side of his mouth lifted slightly in an amused, almost condescending smile. Kate tried to come up with a snappy comeback, but she was too nervous to think on her feet. Instead she offered.

  "We're opposites. You're white on black, I'm black on white."

  She twirled, making her skirt billow as she offered a nervous smile.

  He reached out, stroking her collarbone with one finger.

  "You look ravishing. It's going to take every ounce of self-Heart control I possess not to rip that bodice off you. But that skirt."

  He fingered the gauzy fabric, lifting and letting it fall.

  "Entirely too much material. I can't possibly cane you properly with all that in the way. That's not what we negotiated, Ashley."

  There was a hint of reproach in his voice. They had agreed to a bare-bottomed caning. There was so much nudity andnear-nudity all around them, Kate knew she was silly to even give it a second thought, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't used to stripping for someone she'd just met, and especially not in a public venue, even if no one around them batted an eye.

  "You can lift the skirt in back,"

  she informed him, aware she sounded prim, but ready to defend her decision if he protested.

  Instead, he tilted his head to one side, appraising her with those deep, difficult to read eyes. He nodded slowly.

  "Agreed. Let me show you our space. I have a special area reserved. Very private. No gawking crowd."

  Kate was glad to hear this. Though she was excited and even eager to experience the cane for the first time, she hadn't relished the idea of a bunch of guys leering at her.

  She followed Master John to a far corner of the dungeon, moving past various scenes already in play, wondering where in the room Stacey was and if she was having fun.

  Master John led her to an area at the far corner of the dungeon, closed off by several tall sectioned wooden

  screens. He moved one of the screens and gestured for her to enter the enclosed area. A long wooden bar, not unlike a ballet dancer's bar, had been bolted into one wall at waist

  height. There were two sets of handcuffs attached to the bar, one cuff of each pair secured around it, the other open, a small silver key attached. A single light hung overhead from

  a chord, calling to Kate's mind an interrogation room in some old spy film. The walls were concrete, bare and gray, but the floor, at least, had been covered with a thick throw rug.

  Kate stood in the center of the small enclosed area, hugging herself. She felt unsure and very nervous. She was attracted to Master John, and she wanted to feel the cane, but she found herself wondering if maybe she had been moving too fast, caught up in the dynamic of the event, where everyone around her seemed to leap into play with barely a thought.

  Perhaps Master John sensed her nervousness, because he moved to stand in front of her and reached out to take her into his arms.

  He didn't try to kiss her, for which she was relieved. Instead he just held her for several long moments, his arms strong and comforting around her. She leaned against him, closing her eyes.

  He spoke in a low, soothing voice.

  "Here's what's going to happen, Ashley. When I let you go, you're going to walk over to the bar and grip it with both hands.

  I'm going to cuff your wrists in place. The cuffs are regulation metal police cuffs, but they've been lined with lambs' wool to protect your skin. They will tighten though, if you jerk too hard against them.

  "I think you'll find being restrained makes it easier to handle the cane. You're not tempted to reach back and protect yourself. A natural instinct but one that could result in

  damage, since hands and arms don't have the nice protective padding your ass has.

  "I'll start slow. I'll work you up to it. I'll take you where you've been longing to go."

  He released her from his embrace, holding her a moment by the shoulders as he stared into her eyes. His voice took on a deep, oratorical tone.

  "Are you ready, slave girl? Ready to submit to my erotic control? Ready to experience the touch of a true Master?"

  As had happened before when he talked like this, Kate found herself stifling an urge to giggle. He was handsome, he was sexy, he was offering what she thought she wanted, but though she hated to admit it, the guy was a littl
e too stuck on himself.

  "Is something amusing you?"

  Master John frowned, the annoyance evident in his tone.

  The giggle burst out in a gush of nervous laughter, which only served to irritate the guy further. His frown turned into a glower.

  "I'm very selective about who I scene with. If this is just a game to you, " he began.

  "No, I'm sorry," she apologized, cutting him off.

  "It's just… you're just..."

  How did she say it without offending him? You're really hot, but you're a pompous ass? After all, what did she really know about protocol in the scene? Maybe all so called Masters talked like characters out of a poorly written porn novel. What did she know? And yeah, maybe he was a little full of himself, but at least he knew what he was doing. After all, he was a

  professional. Hegave seminars and workshops on the art of whipping. And they were just doing a scene, not getting engaged.

  "I'm sorry," she tried again.

  "Just nerves."

  The thunder eased out of his face. His eyebrows returned to their normal position over his eyes and he nodded, apparently accepting her excuse.

  "Okay then. You ready?"

  Kate nodded.

  "Then do what I said. Take hold of the bar. I'm going to cuff your wrists."

  Kate moved toward the wall, her heart fluttering. She gripped the bar, which was polished and smooth, glad for something to hold onto. Master John moved behind her, coming up so close she could feel the heat of his body. He reached first for her left wrist, locking it, though he left the key in place. The lambs'

  wool lining made it soft, and there was room to maneuver her wrist, if she felt the need. He secured the second cuff. The metallic click ratcheted the beat of her heart from flutter to pounding and she found herself breathing too fast. It was happening. There was no backing out now. He pulled her hair back, tucking it behind her ears.

  "Slow your breathing," he said. "We haven't even started yet.

  Take in a deep breath and hold it."

  She obeyed. "That's better,"

  he continued. "Now let it out, slowly. We aren't going to start until you're ready."