Master Y groaned and cradled my head as I licked and sucked.
“Fuck, I’d love to have your mouth on my cock.”
Oh, yeah, I had mad skills.
“Such a brat.” He chuckled.
“It’s time to try something else since you handled the tie well.” He gripped my wrists and hauled me to my feet, then unfastened the ribbon. “Let’s see how you do with a little power play. Okay?”
“Green light.”
“Good. Let’s get a better look at you.”
He slipped the chemise off my shoulders. Slowly, it drifted down to the floor, as though he was teasing himself with glimpses of my body. Or maybe he was teasing me.
And then I was completely bare.
Like anyone, I was self-conscious about some aspects of my body. I hate my thighs, but something about this didn’t feel tangible. I still couldn’t see, and I wasn’t in charge. This almost felt like a dream—an erotic one, the kind that woke you up breathless. Like I’d stumbled into one of my fantasies, but I got to enjoy the physical results.
I felt like I was playacting—becoming a seductress. Somehow I wasn’t me, so I had all the freedom in the world to indulge whims without consequences or worries. So I didn’t try to hide or strategically display my body the way I usually did when I got it on with a guy.
And I’d never seen his face so he could be my dream lover.
The only sound was the snapping fire and his harsh breathing. My pussy grew wet, aching with need. I hadn’t been this turned on in…well, forever.
Master Y seized my shoulders, turned me around, and pressed my back against the wall of his chest. I could feel how hard and thick his cock was, pressed up against my hip. More than anything, I wanted him to touch my sex, but it was against the rules.
My nipples peaked, and goose pimples raised on my arms. I wasn’t sure if it was from the sudden cold or anticipation.
He cupped my breasts, squeezing them, and slid his hands down the length of my body—along my waist, over my hips. It was so strange, like being touched by a ghost.
What a clit tease.
I hadn’t expected to walk out of here tonight all hot and bothered. Maybe I could booty call one of the guys I’d screwed around with, but something told me it’d be empty. I’d be thinking about Master Y.
This was a total mind fuck.
“I’m going to use some rope now—just a bit of shibari, nothing fancy.”
During my fevered research, I’d learned shibari was an ancient method of Japanese rope bondage. In the past, it was used to secure prisoners, but it had become eroticized through the centuries.
Master Y trussed me up, creating a body harness. First, he roped it loosely around my neck and beneath my breasts, holding them up like a bra. His hands were swift and sure as if he’d done this hundreds of times.
Then he wrapped the rope around my waist and between my thighs several times. I could tell this was a basic tie. I’d seen elaborate designs which must’ve taken an hour or more to do. Thank God, he hadn’t decided to tease me that long.
If it was possible, I felt even more naked in the rope, like it was putting my body on display. I had to say, the Japanese were onto to something.
When Master Y was finished, he stepped back. Then he walked around me, surveying his handiwork.
“Beautiful.”
I wished I could see what it looked like. The photos on the internet had been strangely striking—tight red ropes on pale bodies. And more than anything, I wanted to watch his face as he gazed at me. Experiencing a guy’s desire was always a huge turn-on for me.
Maybe because I’d never ever felt wanted, except in a sexual context. And those moments had been brief and superficial.
“Earlier, I mentioned penetration—let me show you what I mean. Hold out your hand.”
I did, and he placed a piece of heavy metal in my palm. It was cool to the touch, long, cylindrical.
“You can’t see it, but it’s a steel butt plug with a black jewel. Seeing how adorable you are in the kitty outfit, I wish I had my cat tail butt plug for you to wear.”
I shivered. No one had ever touched my ass. While I’d had plenty of sex, I’d never done anything remotely kinky. Sure, guys had tried, but it’d never appealed—until now. Maybe because this seemed like a dark dream. This was wrong on every level, but so fucking hot I couldn’t stand it.
“After I lube you, I’m going to push it in. Unless you have a red light?”
“Yellow, but continue.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go slowly. Trust me, you’ll enjoy this.”
Again, I had the sense his voice was familiar—but it was lower somehow, a dark growl, which I couldn’t quite place.
Master Y put a hand on my shoulder and marched me to the edge of the leather sofa. I’d seen it when I first walked in. He bent me over the arm, so my butt was in the air and my head rested on the seat cushion.
“I’m going to use a glove for safety.”
“Yes, sir.”
He pried my butt cheeks apart, and I jumped as the cold, slick lube settled against my ass.
I bit my lower lip as he pushed a fingertip inside of me. It felt enormous, but he withdrew it to push the plug in instead. I gritted my teeth as it slowly sunk into my asshole. It was cold and unyielding, forcing my hole open even wider. Eventually, the plug settled into place, and I relaxed again.
Master Y gave me a moment or two to adjust to the invasion.
Once inside, it didn’t feel so bad—actually, it felt good.
Damn good.
I was full, aching even more to be filled further. I wanted his cock inside me too—pressure from both sides.
The next thing I knew, he was behind me. His hands were all over my ass, squeezing, rubbing.
God, I wanted him to touch my pussy, but it was frustratingly out of bounds.
“You need a spanking.”
I should be appalled, but I wasn’t. He was stalling, giving me time to think it over and object if I wanted to, but I didn’t.
“Anne?”
“Yes, sir?”
Then he gave me a hard, stinging swat.
“Give me a light.”
“Green.”
God help me.
As soon as the word left my mouth, Master Y let me have it—he spanked and swatted my cheeks with a relentless force.
And I took it without complaint.
He didn’t let up until my backside was stinging.
Every swat made me hotter. Wetness trickled down my inner thigh. If he didn’t touch me, I thought I’d die. Yes, it hurt, but in a wonderful way.
“Please,” I muttered.
Instantly, his hand dropped.
“Please…what? Do you want me to stop?”
“No, keep going. I need it.”
What the crap was happening to me?
Kate Vincent—strong, independent woman, craving domination at the hands of a strange man. As a card-carrying feminist, it was horrifying—yet, oh, so tempting—to be bowled over, left in the lurch.
I’d always been in charge. I’d grown up in a world of nannies, maids, and chauffeurs—paid servants who catered to my whims. People had indulged me my entire life—at least financially. Now, I was bound and helpless—completely at another person’s mercy.
And loving every single second of it.
So why was this so exhilarating?
The forbidden nature of this encounter? Being paid to do something so naughty? I’d never thought of myself as kinky, but I am.
He manipulated the plug again, plunging it in and out. Now and then, he gave me another good whack. Master Y not only spanked my ass but also the backs of my thighs. I doubted I’d be able to sit the next day. I couldn’t see his handiwork, but my buttocks were glowing. The burning sensation wasn’t too painful.
Master Y rubbed himself against my thigh as he thrust the plug in and out of my asshole. I could feel how hard he was through the thick fabric of his trousers.
And all of a sudden, I wanted it—no, I needed him. I wanted him to take me, fuck me.
Own me.
For a hazy second, I wanted to belong to him.
It’s hard to explain, almost like I lost my sense of self—I was flying, being driven higher and higher. The research I’d read called this subspace—an altered sense of consciousness—and it was better than being drunk or having an orgasm.
I’d never felt anything so magical, so otherworldly. And having experienced it once, I was destined to want this again and again.
Maybe I didn’t have it in me to be a dominatrix. I was a sheep in wolf’s clothing—a sub.
“I want you to come for me.”
I was pressed tight against the sofa, thighs pushed together. The pressure of his hand and the plug touched off a chain reaction.
I writhed, moaning. The pleasure was intense.
“That’s it. We’re nearly there.”
He pushed the plug in even deeper—another firm swat—and I was there. I shattered, trembling as a blistering orgasm ripped through me.
Afterward, I was astonished to find tears streaking down the mask, but it wasn’t from pain, more like a release. I felt like something had been bottled up inside me for a very long time, and tonight it’d burst forth. A sense of relief flooded me, cleansing me—as if I’d expelled something toxic.
When it was over, he sat down on the couch and pulled me onto his lap. I was relaxed, almost boneless and weak.
He stroked my back, talked nonsense to me, soothing me. I felt drowsy, and I wanted to curl up in his arms and fall asleep.
“You did well, sweetheart. I want to book you again.”
“I’d like that.” More like love it.
Then he pulled the mask from my face.
I blinked, adjusting to the sudden change of light. Even though the level was low, I’d been in complete blackness for a while.
When I could see again, I was gazing into the wide, startled eyes of my boss, Malcolm York.
#FML
Chapter Six
Malcolm
Well, isn’t this a fuck-up of monumental proportions?
Stunned, I’d dumped Kate off my lap and left Ravage before we’d said a word to each other. I got in my car and went for a drive, but I couldn’t keep up with my speeding thoughts.
Don’t get me wrong, I squared with my sexual appetites a long time ago. But I don’t want them broadcast to everyone. People can be prudish about sex, and they’re even more narrow-minded about the kinky type, as though it’s somehow shameful.
So what the hell should I do? Have a talk with Kate? Explain and hope she’d keep it to herself? Bribe her with an actual salary and the promise of a glowing recommendation? Pretend like nothing happened and it’d blow over?
As I drove, my mind raced with all the possible options.
And then it occurred to me.
I hadn’t been the only one at the club.
Kate had been a willing—no, an enthusiastic—participant. If we were both guilty, then it couldn’t be used against either of us—mutually assured destruction. Kate had gone there all on her own, had even gotten a job. She’d been having just as much fun as me—more so since she’d gotten to come and I’d been hard and aching.
Of course, it’d gone off the rails after I’d unmasked her. But up until that moment, it’d been a perfect evening.
Clearly, I’d been right about her submissive nature. Dominating her had been thrilling—even more so in retrospect, now I knew she’d been the one at my command. And controlling Kate had been every bit as satisfying as I’d thought it’d be.
In fact, I’d like to do it again. And again.
This might not be so horrible after all. I could tell it was Kate’s first kinky experience—I was sure of it. Her movements had been hesitant, her behavior unsure. I knew from experience it could be bewildering. She’d enjoyed herself tonight, but was she prepared to take it further?
Fuck, I hope so.
Starting an affair with an employee was unethical and dangerous to my career.
However, I’d already begun one, so the damage was done. No point in trying to pretend it hadn’t happened, so I might as well reap all the rewards of the situation.
If I wanted this arrangement to continue, I’d have to play this very carefully. The universe had given me an unexpected gift.
And I couldn’t wait to unwrap it.
***
Kate
After Malcolm had unmasked me, we’d stared at one another for a long time. I’m not sure which one of us was more astonished.
No, wait, I am—it was me, definitely me.
I’d scrambled off his lap, and he’d stalked off without a backward glance.
After he had left, I’d gotten dressed, given Veronica a mumbled excuse about being sick, and gone home. She’d told me she understood and it wasn’t a problem. She probably thought I had reservations about the position. After her warnings about discretion with clients, I couldn’t tell her the truth. I’d accidentally broken the cardinal rule.
My friends greeted me when I walked in our apartment. They were eating popcorn and watching The Vampire Diaries together. I skipped the inevitable inquisition by telling them I was coming down with something and went straight to my room.
Yeah, I had a bad case of humiliation.
After I’d crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head, I’d waited for sleep to carry me off so I could forget about this craptastic day.
Oblivion hadn’t arrived.
Instead, I’d spent the night trying to distract myself with social media and cleaning my room. As a last resort, I’d read old issues of Cosmopolitan. None of the distractions worked—I wondered if it was possible to die of shame.
I suppose it was too much to hope Malcolm would ignore what happened, and let the incident be a big, ugly elephant in the room until I finished my internship.
With my luck, he’d fire me on the spot—after making me feel like a whore. I might not be a sex worker in the technical sense, but it was damn close. Malcolm had seen me at my most vulnerable. And I’d be too embarrassed to go to human resources and accuse him of sexual harassment.
That’s the problem with doing impulsive things. Sometimes they come back to chomp on my ass. I should’ve had this lesson down a long time ago, but I can’t help myself when it comes to adventure.
Suddenly, it all made sense—far too late to help me out of this situation, of course. That block of time carved into Malcolm’s calendar with the cryptic R, it must’ve meant Ravage. Along with the alias—Master Y for York.
Of all the freaky dungeons in the city, I’d walked into the one he used. Dammit. I wish I’d never gone upstairs to the stupid club.
Woah. Wait a goddamn second here.
Hadn’t Veronica said he was a regular? Then I realized he was the one paying for services at Ravage, not me. If anything, Malcolm was the one who should be uncomfortable.
I was getting paid. What’s his excuse?
If he tried to talk to me about it—shame me into feeling bad—he had another thing coming. I’d let him have it—after all, I didn’t need this internship. I’d sail out the door and spend the rest of the day doing some retail therapy with my charge card in Lord & Taylor.
Mind made up, I was ready to do this.
The next morning, I laid low after I got to work.
I was still losing my shit, but I’d talked myself down to a low-level worry. I’d snuck out of my apartment before the girls could question me. I wasn’t ready for that conversation or the recriminations sure to follow.
Sure, I was prepared for a confrontation with Malcolm, but only as a last resort. Part of me still wanted him to let it go and we’d never, ever talk about what happened.
In my personal life, I was bold. I’d had my share of one night stands. And I loved them and left them wanting more. This time, I’d mixed the professional and the personal, and it sucked.
No matter what happene
d here today, I’d take a valuable lesson from this mishap. The crass, old saying was right—don’t shit where you eat. At least I hadn’t screwed up my career…yet.
Malcolm hadn’t sent me an email with any tasks, so I asked the receptionist for some work to keep myself busy. She gave me a series of follow-up phone calls to make, which I did to kill time.
“Frowning will give you wrinkles, Kate.”
I glanced up to see Seth Bailey.
Great. Could this day get any worse?
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Did you notice I called you Kate, instead of Katie?”
Oh, my God. He remembered my snappy comeback from the other day.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Then I received a text from Malcolm. Meet me in my office at 10. Don’t be late.
My pulse leaped. It was cryptic and ruined my attempt at normalcy.
Seth frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, I’ve got to go. See you later.” I tossed my lukewarm coffee and half-eaten bagel into the trash then slogged upstairs, leaving Seth in the lobby.
My early morning bravado had faded when I was confronted with the reality.
Malcolm sat at his enormous desk—a position of power—and I was only his intern.
Thank God he wasn’t half-naked on the treadmill. Although, I wondered what he’d look like bare-chested and bending me over his desk. I bet he’d be rough at first—spanking me, spreading my legs open wide for his invasion.
Dammit, Kate.
“Close the door, please.”
With a sigh, I shut the door behind me. A flush burned on my face, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Once more, I felt naked in front of him. He’d seen me—all of me—and I don’t just mean my nudity. Last night, he’d spanked me like a naughty child, made me vulnerable, and pulled a dirty side out of me I hadn’t even been aware of.
And I craved more.
The memory alone made me wince. I didn’t quite know how I felt about it all yet, or what it meant. And I’ve never been so confused.
I sat down and placed my hands on my lap. As predicted, my backside hurt like a mother. When I’d examined myself in the mirror last night, it was a dark, glowing red. This morning it’d dulled to a bright pink, but the cheeks still stung.
Rough Ride (Let it Ride Book 1) Page 4
