After going through the heavy double doors at Club Tryst, Sir was greeted by someone who obviously knew him. “Ah, monsieur, good to see you again,” announced the host when he saw Sir’s face. The man smiled at her and nodded. “Mademoiselle.” As they walked through the club, she felt as though all eyes were on her.
Sir was gorgeous in his Armani suit with his dark curls falling across his brow. The slacks hugged his muscular ass, and there was no doubt his swagger commanded respect. But Stella realized that not all the eyes on her were out of love or admiration. Every woman in the club stared daggers in her direction, mere hatred and jealousy flowing from them all like a twist of venomous snakes. With her head held high, she focused her eyes straight ahead, swallowed hard, and held his arm tighter as they walked over to a group of chairs and a lush leather couch.
Michael motioned his hand for her to sit down, and she giggled, wiggling the heavy plug nestled in her bottom. She’d actually forgotten it was there for a moment. Her hips wanted to grind on the plug, but on second thought, she decided she’d better not. As he sat on the couch beside her, she thought she heard him ask the maître’d to bring his best bottle of champagne, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Her eyes were transfixed on the couple in the middle of the room.
A blonde lady straddled a makeshift wooden horse—her hands fastened to the pegs at the front with black and red cuffs, her knees were bent, and her ankles fastened to the pegs sticking out of the side. What caught Stella’s eye was the way the woman mewled and squealed as the horse vibrated between her legs. Stella felt a stir inside, realizing the girl was riding out a powerful orgasm.
“Sir?” Stella leaned over and whispered, “May I ask a question?”
With a smirk, he replied, “Never seen anything like it have you, dirty girl?”
“No,” she whispered again as if she were afraid someone might hear her. “Where are we?”
“Club Tryst. A BDSM club.”
“What do they do here? Just come in the middle of the room?”
“Whatever they want. As long as it’s consensual and legal.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Her voice got a little louder.
“Because I’m going to fuck you,” he answered just as the champagne arrived. He looked up and thanked the waiter. Stella was pleased yet confused by his answer. He could fuck her at home. She tried to take in the ambiance of the club.
She looked around, overwhelmed by it all, but she didn’t want to be caught staring at anyone. Her eyes quickly darted as her ears were filled with moans and muffled screams of couples. She didn’t even realize there was music playing until there was a lull in the banter.
She reached up and felt the necklace he’d placed around her neck before they left the house and wondered why the other subs had collars and she didn’t. “Sir? May I ask a question?”
“You are full of questions tonight,” he replied. She thought she might have heard a little irritation in his voice.
“Why do these people have collars and leashes? I don’t have a collar. Do I get one?”
He sighed and turned to her, his hair falling across his brow as he replied, “What makes you think you are worthy of a collar? Collars are for subs who submit to their masters, willingly and wholeheartedly. You, my dirty little whore, are not worthy of a Dom’s collar. You are bought and paid for.”
His words bit right through her, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked rapidly to control her emotions and not show him how hurt she was.
“In fact,” he continued, “you’re lucky to be here at this club with me. Next to me. If you weren’t such a pretty little slut, you’d be on the floor, lapping at my feet.”
She scoffed, “You wish,” under her breath. He must have heard her as the look he gave her could kill. He gulped down the champagne and stood. “Get up.”
As she stood, she saw three women leaning against the wall, staring at her. They looked like thugs in their black leather and chains. Stella grabbed Sir’s arm tighter, increasing her step to keep up with him. She wasn’t used to seeing people so blatantly sexual. Especially in public, and the costumes they wore were intimidating. She wondered how the management at the club kept everyone in check. Glancing around, she looked up to the ceiling and saw CCTV cameras. That must be how they do it, she thought, but who could stop a fight if one broke out? There must be a few hundred people here.
Sir pulled her up to a raised platform in the middle of the room where there were various accessories available to use. Was he going to make her ride the Sybian machine or… was he going to fuck her right there in front of everyone? She realized the idea of being fucked by Sir in front of all these people actually excited her when she felt a trickle of wetness between her thighs. Sir’s presences commanded all the attention in the room when she heard the noise level dramatically decrease. When he turned her around to look at everyone, she noticed that many people had stopped their conversations to look at them.
Stella was so focused on all the eyes that were on her, she didn’t expect what came next at all. Sir yanked her skirt up, nudged her legs open, and pushed two fingers into her pussy. She gasped and closed her eyes, taking in the pure pleasure of his touch. She opened her eyes again to make sure this wasn’t some kind of bizarre dream. Nope, it wasn’t. There were still so many eyes upon her, and most of them were smiling at her obvious arousal.
He pulled his fingers from her pussy and brought them to her mouth. She knew already what he wanted, and she opened her mouth willingly to suck her own juices from him.
Sir moved behind her and began to unlace the corset she wore. She stood there in front of everyone with her skirt up around her waist. At least she was facing them and they couldn’t see the big silver butt plug that she was clenching between her cheeks. When he finished unlacing the corset, he threw it to the side.
“This is my whore,” Sir announced to the room.
Anyone that was not watching her before was certainly watching her now.
“She’s not my sub, so you don’t need to know her name. If you need to address her you can simply call her Whore. I’ve paid a pretty penny for her, and she will do whatever I ask because she wants her money.”
She felt so embarrassed and hoped he was done for the moment, but then he added in a voice that only she and the closest people to the platform could possibly have heard, “Perhaps someday she will be here by choice and not need the money to stay with me.”
“Turn around, whore.”
She hesitated for a moment only because she wasn’t sure if she wanted them to see the butt plug. He raised his hand, and she quickly turned before he could decide where to make contact.
“Now, bend over the table.”
She did as ordered, and he pushed her down until her breasts and upper body were pressed against the table. In front of her, he reached for leather straps that he wrapped around her wrists until her arms were completely stretched out and she was immobile. Then he moved behind her again and spread her legs wide, attaching leather straps around her ankles, too.
He’d done similar things to her at home, but she was now very aware of all the eyes in the room. It made her uncomfortable, yet turned her on at the same time. At home, it would give her great pleasure to know that Sir was looking at her most intimate parts. But she wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or something else, knowing all these people could see her in such a vulnerable position. They could see her pussy, spread open wide and wet with desire to please Sir, and worst of all, they could see that butt plug.
Sir knew her well, and he played with that butt plug in front of everyone. He twisted it and pulled it and twisted it some more until only the tip of it was still inside her ass. Then he roughly shoved it back in, and she moaned with pleasure. Stella pleaded with him for more.
“Please, please Sir…”
“Please what, whore? Do you want me to stop?”
“No…”
“Louder, so everyone can hear you.”
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“No, Sir.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Please fuck me, Sir.”
“What? I don’t think that was loud enough.”
“Please fuck me, Sir. Please.”
“You want me to fuck you in front of this room of people and show them what a whore you are?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Whose whore?”
“Your whore, Sir.”
“Bought and paid for,” he added.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say it all together now,” he said.
“I’m your whore, bought and paid for.”
“And don’t forget it.”
She thought she was going to feel his cock inside her then—it had been so long. But she realized when she saw him go over to a rack on the wall, that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he picked out a long-handled paddled that had leather tassels and beads attached around the edges. It was so much more than she was anticipating.
It wasn’t like she’d never been spanked with a paddle before, but this one had those beads, and the first time he pulled his arm back and let the paddle fall against her ass, those beads hit her flesh like tiny stinging insects.
“Count!”
This reminded her of the first time he’d spanked her with his hand at the kitchen table. That spanking had been so arousing, and just thinking of it made her more excited. That was the first time she discovered the excitement of being punished. As the paddle fell upon her ass, Stella counted, knowing she was providing quite the scene for those who were watching.
“One.” She knew better than to count the first uncounted smack. “Two… three… four…”
She kept counting all the way up to twenty. Each smack seemed to get progressively harder, and the beads at the end of the leather strips stung her flesh. At twenty paddles, he stopped. She really wanted some kind of release, but instead, he left here there—spread-eagle, open and wanting. She didn’t know where he’d gone, but he was definitely gone. Somewhere still in the club no doubt, but gone.
All she could do was lie there and listen to the voices around her. She heard low murmurs of her spanking on the stage, or heard someone comment on how wet she still was, but other than that she was completely ignored.
Finally, Sir came back to her and undid the straps around her ankles and wrists.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” When she stood before him, stretching out her exhausted limbs, she meekly looked down at her feet and said, “Sir, may I say something?”
“Yes, you may.”
“I’m sorry. I know I was rude.”
“I’m glad you know that. Don’t ever doubt what role you play in my life and what I will and won’t do. You are a whore as long as I am paying you. When you realize that there is more to life than money, perhaps we can talk more openly. Until then, you will pay proper respect to me.”
For the rest of the night, he escorted her around the club, introducing her as his whore each time and making a point of telling everyone that she was bought and paid for. It hurt her deeply because there was something inside her that hoped he thought of her as something more. Maybe it was how he had mentioned that she didn’t deserve a collar—that being his sub was a privilege and she should consider herself lucky.
But that meant that she would have to deny his money and… she couldn’t do that, could she? What would she have as backup? How would she live if he left her life like Walt had?
Chapter 15
It had been a week since they’d been at the club and since then, Sir—she’d stopped calling him Michael, even in her head—had occasionally allowed her more access to the rest of the house. He still wouldn’t let her wear any clothing though, so when he did allow her into the dining room to serve him his meals, she did it naked. And when it was her turn to eat, she did so naked from a plate on the floor. Stella was always naked, and she grew used to Maga seeing her that way. Even that afternoon, when she was allowed outside into the grounds of the castle to do some gardening with Maga, she was naked and it just didn’t seem like a big deal to her anymore.
She was grateful for the chance to spend more time with Maga, whom she’d become very close to during her time with Sir, and she trusted her more than she ever imagined. Maga was like a mother, a friend, and a sister all rolled into one. Stella still had some nagging questions she was dying to get some answers to—mostly about Walt and Sir, and the girl named Lucy that made everyone stop talking. She knew Lucy was Maga’s daughter, but that was all she knew. She couldn’t figure out how Walt, Sir, and Lucy were all connected, and she hoped she could find out today.
It took her a while to work up to it since she knew it was something that Maga didn’t like to talk about. Maga was very loyal to Sir, and she was careful to avoid talking about his personal or business life at all. It was almost as if she feared him or perhaps thought that their conversation was being overheard.
“Maga, can I ask you something about Walt, Lucy, and Sir?”
“It really isn’t my place to tell you anything, Stella. You should ask him yourself.”
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but he’s so closed. Maybe if I knew a bit more about him I could understand why he is the way he is.”
“He’s a very private man. Surely, you must know that by now. Maybe he’s not ready to tell you, but it’s up to you if you want to ask him.”
“I feel like he wants me to stay, yet… oh, if only I understood what he wanted from me.”
“Well,” Maga said, “you do know that the three of them knew each other when they were just children. They all grew up as foster kids.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “All of them?” she said.
“Yes. At one time, they were all in the same foster home.”
“So, they were all friends?”
“Yes, they were.”
“Good friends?”
“Yes, very good friends from what I know.”
“And, Lucy? You adopted her, right?”
“Yes, I did. She was such a lovely, sweet girl. I couldn’t leave her in that foster home once I found out some of the things that went on there.”
“How did you come into the picture?”
Maga’s head dropped, and suddenly, she looked sad as she paused for a few seconds. “I lost a child of my own when she was very young, just a baby. I had a really hard time with that. A friend suggested I work with some under-privileged children to help me get over her loss, and that lead me to a community center where Walt, Michael, and Lucy used to hang out after school. They would stay there from the time they got out of school until we had to kick them out at closing time. One day, Lucy came in with bruises and when I asked her how she’d got them, she wouldn’t tell me. She just started to cry and ran away.”
Stella listened and didn’t say a word. She was afraid if she said anything to break her flow, Maga would remember she shouldn’t be talking to her about it and clam up.
“She ran directly to Walt and Michael, and they put their arms around her and walked away from the community center. I had no clue what was going on, though it was obvious that they were protecting her. A couple of days later, my curiosity got the best of me, and I followed them home. They walked down that dark street so slowly. I didn’t think they knew I was there, but then they suddenly turned around and those boys, who couldn’t have been more than 14 or 15, walked right up to me and said, ‘Why are you following us?’”
“I told them I was worried about Lucy and her bruises and asked them who did that to her. Teens being teens, they wouldn’t tell me, of course. They said I should mind my own business and if I didn’t, Lucy would be taken away from them and then she’d have no one to protect her at all. I was worried sick, and the very next day I started the paperwork to adopt Lucy. I never found out for sure what had happened, but I knew it must have been bad for those boys to protect her like they did. It took a while, but I finally got everything settled, and she came to live with me. Of course, she could never replac
e the beautiful baby I lost, but I loved and cared for her as if she was my own child.”
Stella took it all in. She still didn’t understand, but she had a better picture of Sir’s younger life. Maga seemed to be done, but suddenly, she added, “I didn’t have the space, but I wished I could have taken those boys in, too. I welcomed them into my home whenever they wanted to come over though, and when Lucy and Michael started dating, I never stopped her from seeing him. Walt was awfully pissed about that because he liked her as well, but she’d chosen Michael. That’s when things started to go bad between those two boys. Walt started hanging out with some bad people and was hardly around at all. And even when he was, it was never a happy time for any of us.”
“Stella!” Sir called from the back door.
“Thank you for sharing that, Maga. That means so much to me.” Stella jumped to her feet and walked across the lush green lawn to meet Sir, and he took her to his office. She’d never been asked in there before—it was Sir’s private space, and he always kept the door closed. She looked around the masculine space filled with books on tall oak bookshelves, and on the walls hung expensive looking pictures. It was all very dark and lacked any bright colors. Why had he asked her in here?
“Stella, I’m going to give you all the money I owe you. You can take it, and you’re free to leave if you wish, or you can keep the money and stay. It’s up to you, but if you keep the money and stay, you must stay for at least one more month.”
There was a part of her that wanted to hurl herself at his feet and tell him she didn’t want the money, just him. But that was a lot of green in a thick wad of bills in his outstretched hand, and she knew she’d be able to really start her life over again if she took it and left. In her mind, she thought about getting an apartment, looking for a respectful job, and no one ever knowing that she’d once been a whore.
“Will I still be paid the same amount for the next month if I stay?”
Shameless Submission: A Dark BDSM Romance Page 10
