“You have no idea what this lifestyle is about, do you?” I shake my head. There’s no need in denying it. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that Connor is with Miranda?”
I frown in confusion. That’s definitely not what Rand told me she was going to do.
“They don’t know it’s each other,” she continues as if reading my mind. “They wanted a different experience, so we’re giving them one. They’ll see that all they really need is each other at the end of the night. The purpose of this place is not to tear people apart, Cassidy. It’s to bring fire to the relationship. To give them something more than what they have right now. It’s not for everyone. But for those who enjoy it, it does not make them bad people.”
My mind began reeling the moment I heard her say my name.
“How did you know my name?”
She gives me a small smile. “This is my club. I make it my business to know what goes on in here. Do you feel better about Miranda now?”
I shrug again. She still wanted to sleep with someone else. And now I have this vision of Rand and Connor doing… this.
“Would you like to learn more about what we do here, Cassidy?”
She tilts her head again when I don’t answer. I don’t know what it is about that small gesture, but it makes my stomach clench. I find it sexy. There’s just something vulnerable in the action that doesn’t fit her confident aura. She begins to rise again, and again I find myself scrambling to keep her there.
“Yes.” Damn. Was that my voice? Since when does it tremble?
There is no smile, no look of relief in her eyes, but they do flash with desire. That much I do know. I’ve seen that look many times in a woman’s eyes. Never one quite as captivating as the woman in front of me.
“Let me bind your hands.”
My eyes leave her luscious cleavage at the demand. “Take off your mask,” I counter.
“No. If you can’t comply, Cassidy, we’re wasting our time here.”
“You mean submit?” She was going to leave again. I catch the dulling of her eyes. I need to get her to stay, and excited again. “I admit that I don’t know much about this… stuff. But I’m pretty sure that trust is a big thing, right? Don’t I need to trust whoever is going to be causing me pain?” My body shivers at the thought of the pain. I don’t want to think of her getting off on my suffering.
“I don’t want to cause you pain, Cassidy.”
“Cass. Remove the mask. Please?”
“Since this is your first time, I’ll compromise with you.” She looks away, almost as though she was shocked by what she just said. When her eyes come back to mine, I see nothing but confidence. “Let me bind you, and I will take off the mask.”
“Take the mask off first.” Yeah, I know. I’m a defiant little shit. I don’t like being told what to do. I’ve always been that way.
“You don’t like authority.” Another accurate statement from her. I wonder if I should be freaked out that she seems to know more about me than I know about her. Which is nothing. “If you want to learn, Cassidy,” she emphasizes my name, “you’re going to have to knock that chip off your shoulder. Or I can do it for you.”
Yes, please. Do whatever you want to me. Okay, so I think I’ve just made my decision. Slowly, I put my hands behind my back. Another flash of her eyes, and she stands to walk behind me. I don’t know where she got the silk to wrap around my hands, but in my mind it came from that beautiful, tanned cleavage.
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She breathes close to my ear. Good lord. My body reacts so intensely to this woman. I’ve never responded to anyone like this before. I turn my head hoping to be able to feel her lips on mine. Unfortunately, she moves away quickly. Damn it. She reassumes her stiff position in front of me.
“Now the mask.” Oh yeah, I’m turned on. My voice always seems to lower an octave when I’m particularly horny. I think it just lowered two or more octaves for her.
True to her proposed compromise, she lifts her beautiful hair in the back, and brings forth a long ribbon. Holding the mask to her face with her left hand, she gently pulls the ribbon to untie it. Her eyes close briefly, making me wonder if she was regretting her decision. For a moment, I don’t think she will go through with it. Then, with both hands she lowers the mask away from her face.
That gasp came from me. I know it did. If I thought her ass was the most perfect I’ve ever seen, it was nothing compared to the exquisiteness of her face. I could sit here and tell you every little detail like how perfect her nose was, or how full her lips were, but I’m too mesmerized.
“Are you ready for your next lesson?”
I wonder if I’m drooling. It’s entirely possible that I am. That body, that face, that voice. This woman was everyone’s wet dream all rolled into one delicious package. I’ve completely passed the point where I could deny her anything. But I’m not so far gone that I can’t ask for something in return.
“What is your name?” Hey. It’s worth a try.
“You may call me Mistress.”
“You know my name.” Wow. That sounded perilously like a whine. What the hell is this woman doing to me? Oh yeah. Anything she wants.
“I’ve given you the mask, Cassidy. That is all I’m willing to give you. Stand.”
I don’t hesitate this time, and am rewarded with a soft smile as she stands with me. It’s not surprising that I’m taller than she is by a few inches. She seems so delicate. I think I’m about to be proven absolutely wrong about that.
“Walk to the edge of the bed.”
There’s a bed in here? Well, hell! Shows where my attention has been since entering this room. I glance over her shoulder. Hot damn. There it is. On rubbery legs, I obey. I feel the heat of her behind me, but I don’t turn back around. I decide instead that I will wait for my next instructions. I know. Surprises me, too.
“Face me, Cassidy.”
I think I’ve learned enough in the short amount of time we’ve been together not to correct her usage of my name. Oddly enough, I kind of like hearing my full name coming out of her mouth. Damn, that mouth. I want to feel it. Taste it. Enough to make me lean forward, only to be stopped by a firm hand on my chest.
“No touching. Not with your hands, not with your mouth.” I manage to bite back the frustrated groan. Barely. She begins to unbutton my shirt, and I tremble with anticipation. “What’s your favorite word, Cassidy?”
The question confuses me. My mind is certainly not functioning enough to make silly conversation. When her hands stop what they were doing, I look up (yes, you caught me. I was looking at her cleavage again). Shit. She’s serious with this question?
“Um. Platypus.”
She laughs softly. A magical sound. “Platypus?” I nod my head. It is! It’s fun as shit to say. “All right then. That is your safe word. Should be easy for you to remember. If I do anything that you’re not comfortable with, or you want me to stop, all you have to say is your safe word. I will stop without hesitation. Without question. Understand?”
I nod again. She smells so good. What is that? Lavender? Have I ever noticed how a woman smelled before? Well other than in obvious places? I don’t think I’ve paid that much attention. All of my blood migrates south, leaving me light-headed, when she wraps her arms around me. Sadly, it’s short lived as she just wanted to untether my hands. Oh how my hands itch to touch her.
“Remove your shirt.” It keeps my hands busy, at least. She watches my movements with interest, eyes flickering with surprise when she realizes I’m not wearing a bra. Never do. My tits are small enough, and firm enough, not to warrant one. Judging by her reaction, I see she approves. Oh yeah, baby. I’m full of surprises.
Not only was my lack of a bra approved of, but she also seems quite captivated by my abs. Six pack, baby. I worked hard for this body. If a woman like Mistress is aroused by that, it was worth all of the time and pain. My muscles contract involuntarily when she feathers her fingers down my stomach.
“Unbutton your jeans, but leave them on.” I readily do as she asks, itching to just take them off completely, and stand in front of this woman in all my glory. “Now get on the bed. Lay down in the middle, with your hands above your head.”
I hop up on the bed, scooting my ass to the middle. Glancing behind me, I notice the bars that make up the headboard. Around a couple of the bars are ropes, and instead of making me nervous, the sight of them excites me. I lay down, extending my hands above my head, and wait.
“Grab ahold of this bar,” she instructs. Once I do, she ties the rope around my wrist with a bit of strength. It’s tight, biting into me, but not uncomfortable enough for me to complain. She walks around the bed, completing the task with my other hand, and then stands at the foot of the bed, letting her eyes roam my half-clad body. Come on, baby. Take of the jeans. You won’t be sorry.
I wonder again if she can read my mind as she bends over slightly, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and boxer briefs.
“Lift.”
I plant my feet flat on the bed, boots and all, and lift my hips. I grin when she hits a snag in getting my jeans off. The grin became a full-on arrogant smirk when she gasps at what she sees. When she looks at me, an elegant brow raises at my smirk, but she says nothing. She just licks her lips, then proceeds to divest me of my jeans and boots until I lay in front of her as naked as the day I was born. Except the tattoos, of course.
“Spread your legs.”
Fuck. I can feel my excitement trickling down the crack of my ass, making me squirm a little.
“More, Cassidy!”
I look from her to the bedposts and back again. She wants me to spread myself open that far? Was humility a part of the lifestyle? I’ve never bared myself that much to anyone. She remains quiet, waiting, tapping that pale pink nail against the wood of the post. She’s losing patience with me again. Taking a deep breath, I spread myself for her until she was able to reach the ropes around my ankles.
“Good girl.” She pats the side of my calf, and walks away. My gaze tracks her to an armoire that stands a few feet from the bed. Geez. I really didn’t notice anything in this room except her. It’s pink! The bed, the walls, all pink. Not ugly, Pepto pink, but a subtle, almost calming color. Like her nails. Huh. I guess that’s why they call it the Pink Room.
My eyes bulge when I see what’s nestled in that armoire. Fuck. How can such a girly, pretty room be equipped for such torture? Warily, I watch her run her finger over a few of her instruments, coming to a stop on what looks like a leather fringed… whip. Shit.
After making her selection, she closes the armoire, and makes her way back to me. Snapping the whip across her palm the entire time. My body seems to jump involuntarily with each sound of the leather against her flesh. She stands beside me, tickling the fringe down my ribcage. With a flick of her wrist the leather slaps me smartly on my side. I let out a hiss as the sting moves through my body.
“Do you always wear that?” She asks, nodding to the dildo that’s buried inside me on one end, and standing proudly at attention on the other. I nod, and she slaps the whip across my nipple. Shit that hurts! “Answer me!”
“Yes.” Another slap, another hiss, and perhaps a bit of movement of my body trying to get away from her.
“Yes, what?”
Okay, this I have a problem with. I don’t want to fucking call her Mistress. I want to know her name! I highly doubt I could get away with calling her baby or snookums. Sigh.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And, do you use it often?” I shrug. Big mistake! I receive two stinging slaps for that one. “Tell me the truth, Cassidy.”
“I used to, Mistress. Not so much these days.” Shit. I really did tell her the truth. So much for being all mysterious and shit. She has that covered well enough, I suppose.
“Why?”
Not wanting to get hit again, I immediately open my mouth, and the truth just comes tumbling out.
“I haven’t found anyone that holds my interest lately, Mistress.” Whew! That was a late ‘mistress’, and I rush to slip it in there before she can punish me for it.
“Do I hold your interest, Cassidy?”
I look her in the eyes, hoping to convey the absolute truth to her beyond my words. “Yes, Mistress. Very much so.”
She gives me a ‘reward’ by fanning the fringe lightly across both of my tits. I have to admit it feels good enough that I almost loosen my grip on the headboard. Her eyes travel to my hands, which I’m sure if I look at them I’ll see white knuckles. My whole body is tense.
She leans closer, brushing her fingertips over my cheek, down my neck, and down the length of my torso. She stops before touching my little helper. Damn it.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Cassidy. That’s not what this is about.” Her hand moves up my arm until her fingers tap my strong grip. “Relax. Loosen your grip. Your brain is anticipating the pain, your body bracing for it. So much so that you can’t feel the pleasure that being like this can give you.”
“Easy for you to say.” Yes, I’m a dumbass and said that right out loud. “Why don’t you lay here all tied up, and let me hit you. See if you like it.” Yep. Said that, too. I’m an idiot.
She frowns. “Say your safe word, Cassidy.”
I don’t want to. As much as it hurts, I don’t want it to end, so I clamp my traitorous mouth shut.
“I know what it’s like to be hit. The kind of hitting that doesn’t come with pleasure at the end of it.” There’s that surprise in her features again. She didn’t mean to say that. Of course, I nearly miss her surprise because of the rage that fills me. Who would dare hurt this beautiful creature?
“I’ll kill them!” Oh shit. I said that out loud, too. I really need to get this mouth under control. I’m almost afraid to look at her. Afraid that I have ruined everything by being too personal. She doesn’t give me a choice when her fingertips guide my chin until I’m drowning in her gaze.
“You’re sweet.” I blush. What. The. Fuck. I don’t blush! She smiles sweetly, graciously letting my chin go so I can avoid more embarrassment. Or at least avoid seeing my embarrassment through her eyes. “You’re associating the feel of this,” she whips me again, and I arch my back from the pain, “with pain and humility. It doesn’t have to be like that.” She wraps a delicate hand around my ‘cock’, and I feel pleasure radiate through my body. “I want you to associate this, with this” she jerks on my cock, and flicks the whip on my nipple at the same time, sending erotic shock waves that seem to settle directly in my clit.
“Fuck!”
She leans close. “Did your pussy contract when I did that?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I pant. Do it again! Do it again! I continue my silent chant until she begins stroking me gently. I’m going to come if she keeps that up. It’s never been this easy for me to lose control. Is having someone control me what I’ve been missing? Or is it her? Her left hand continues its slow torture, while the right moves the fringed whip sensually across my tits.
My hips move of their own accord, unable to stay still with everything going on. I can’t catch my breath, and it isn’t long before I start feeling my world come undone. I’m pretty sure she senses the change in me, as her hand begins to move faster. Just as I feel the walls of my pussy start to contract around the dildo that’s inside me, she snaps the whip on my tits, harder than any of the times before. The edge of the fringe catches my nipple, and I explode.
I yell, thrash, try to loosen my wrists, and at the same time try to close my legs to stop the seemingly never-ending spasms that are so pleasurable, they’re almost painful. Now I get it. Oh fuck, I so get it.
The next thing I know, she’s standing at the foot of the bed again, staring at me—or rather my ‘cock’ that’s pulsing from my aftershocks—hungrily. I’m not kidding. Hungrily is a good description because she’s licking her lips like she wants to devour me. Huh. I didn’t know my legs could spread any further, or that I would have the strength to move even an inch. Guess I was wrong. I want more.
“In my opinion,” she begins, still eyeing my ‘cock’, “people have it all wrong. Even those who are deeply into this stuff.” Huh? I’m confused. Of course, my body is humming with desire, and anticipation of what’s next, which is short-circuiting my brain, so confusing me is not hard to do at this point.
“This Dom/Sub lifestyle,” she explains further. “Everyone assumes that the Sub is weak, and that it is the Dom that is in control.”
I look pointedly at my bound hands and feet, and raise my eyebrow at her. Yeah, I can do that, too. She chuckles lightly, sending another aftershock through me. She flicks the whip directly in front of her, hitting the inside of my thighs, and right on the most sensitive part of me. It isn’t pain I feel this time. This time, instead of a hiss, it’s a moan of pure pleasure.
“One word, Cassidy. That’s all it takes from you that could stop all of this. You have the power to leave me wanting. And, oh god, do I want you. If you could only feel how wet I am for you.” I groan, my fingers itching to feel her, my mouth watering to taste her. “If you break the rules, you get punished, but there’s always a reward for you at the end. If I do something you don’t like, one word and it’s over for me. No rewards. So, you see? You have the power here. You are allowing me to do these things to you. I wouldn’t be able to do them without your permission.”
Hmm. I never thought of it that way. I suspect many Doms don’t. They’re need for control outshines the true strength of the Sub. My Mistress is different. In so many ways, from so many things that I’m used to.
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