by LK Shaw
“Hey Bridget, remember me? Penny, from the potluck last week.”
“Oh my God, of course I remember you. I’m so glad you decided to come,” Bridget squealed, grabbed my hands, and pulled me in for a hug. “I wondered if you’d have the guts to show up, especially after all the attention Master Marcus gave you last weekend. When he backed you up against the wall, the fiercest expression crossed his face, and I wanted so badly to know what he said to you. I thought you were going to come right then and there.”
I remembered the feel of him, the rough texture of his finger as he caressed my lip, the woodsy smell of his cologne, and a certain scent that represented Marcus. Even after only spending thirty minutes with the man, I think I’d recognize his specific scent anywhere. Permanently etched on my brain, it would never go away.
“What do you know about him?” I wondered.
“No way,” Bridget scolded. “I’m not spilling anything until you tell me what he said to you to make you rush off in such a hurry you barely even said goodbye.”
I thought back to last week’s conversation between Marcus and me. The arousal that rushed through me then threatened to overcome me again. I came back to the present, and, with a heavy sigh, responded to the question left hanging in the air. “He described in explicit detail all the things he wanted to do to me. I freaked and ran. End of story.”
“For the love of all things holy, why would you run from Master Marcus? Do you even realize the number of subs who would kill to be in your place, me included? If that man even glanced at me sideways, I’d be bent over the nearest spanking bench waiting for him to punish me. I’ve watched him scene with some of the other subs at the club, and what I wouldn’t give to be the object of his desire,” Bridget practically screamed at me.
“He’s too intense. I don’t think we’d suit at all. Besides, I’m not looking to start a relationship with a Dom yet. I mean, I haven’t even figured out what it is I am or what I want. I’m more of an observer. A wallflower, if you will. I’m not one to close my eyes, jump into the deep end, and reap the consequences of what I sowed later. I dwell and analyze shit and over think everything,” I replied. I tried to get her to understand that I needed more time to learn about submission and how I fit into this new world that had now opened up for me to explore.
“Well don’t look now, but I think Master Marcus is about to help you get your feet, and maybe other more important things, wet,” Bridget warned. I didn’t need the warning Bridget gave me. I’d sensed his eyes on me from almost the moment I walked in the door. The minute he stepped within ten feet of me, the air essentially froze, as though everyone else disappeared, leaving no one except the two of us.
“Hello, Sweetness.”
I kept my expression as blank as possible before I turned to face the man who’d been haunting my dreams all week. Bridget, that traitor, scurried away, leaving me with Marcus.
“Hi,” came my lame response. Immediately, the sexual attraction between us ratcheted up a few degrees, causing my heart to race. My eyes didn’t leave his. I don’t know why I fought the attraction. Unbelievably, after only one meeting I knew, inevitably, I’d break. Marcus made me feel things with only a glance. Things I’d only dreamed about.
“After your disappearing act last week I wondered if I’d ever see you again,” Marcus questioned as he casually leaned up against the bar next to me. The muscles in his forearm flexed, as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch me. “I’d have been extremely disappointed if I’d missed you tonight. Did you masturbate while thinking of me this week?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to lie to him. I licked my dry lips, unintentionally bringing his attention to my mouth before he made eye contact again. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to make it a reality. I just met you and this, whatever it is, is moving too fast. You’re intense, and you come on too strong. You don’t give me any time to think. To be honest, you make me a little nervous. I’m not ready for you or whatever it is you’re offering. I am only now beginning to explore submission and trying to find out what and who I am.” Throughout my entire speech, I kept wondering what thoughts were running through his mind. His face remained impassive and unreadable. He was an enigma, a puzzle I didn’t think I was ready to solve.
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say since we met. Here’s the deal, and I want you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say. I’m a Dominant, and I am intense and will come on strong, because I know that is what you need even if you don’t. I’ve lived in the lifestyle long enough to know that you are submissive to the bone. I make you nervous because I make you feel things you haven’t felt before. The more time you have to think, the less time you spend feeling, which is what you should be doing. Feeling the wet heat of my mouth suckling your bountiful tits. Feeling the pounding of my cock deep in that beautiful pussy of yours. Feeling the heat build from your core and spread throughout your body until it bursts in the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. This is what you want and need, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. That’s my job as a Dom. To give you everything you didn’t even know you needed.”
Almost before he had even finished speaking, he closed the distance between us, took hold of my head with both hands on either side of my face and lowered his lips to mine. His tongue demanded entrance, and on a gasp, I opened my mouth to his assault. Flavors burst on my tongue, including the whiskey he must have been drinking. His scent and now his taste were etched on my brain. He tasted like no other man I’d kissed before. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended.
“I want you and you want me. I will take things only as slow as I think you need them to go. The most important part of any D/s relationship is communication, no matter if it’s a relationship that lasts for one scene or one that lasts beyond that. Communication is key. That is what contracts, agreements, and safe words are for. You’ll need a safe word; something you won’t forget in the heat of the moment. I won’t always know what you are feeling. It’s up to you to tell me. The minute you say your safe word, whatever is happening stops. It may only stop until we’ve discussed what’s happening and make adjustments, or it may stop the scene entirely if we can’t come to a safe resolution that we both agree upon. You came here looking to learn the secrets of submission. I plan to show you all of them.”
Chapter Three
Penny
After Marcus’ declaration and our brief, heated kiss, he left the pool hall while I stayed to talk to Bridget and some of the other subs. Mostly so I didn’t go home to an empty house and dwell on or overthink everything he had said. Before I left, Bridget pulled me aside and asked for my phone. Without thought, I handed it to her. After several keystrokes she handed it back to me telling me that she had put her phone number in my contact list in addition to Marcus’ “per his command”.
The next day, I sat on my couch reading, barely concentrating, while casting occasional glances at my phone debating whether or not I should call him. I had never been that girl. The bold one who called a guy she liked. The one who took the initiative and went after what she wanted. I don’t know how, but in some way the two interactions with Marcus were meaningful. The longer I sat there, the more the urge increased to take life by the figurative balls. I needed to stop being the wallflower, the girl on the sidelines watching every one else find their dance partner. The time came to be that bold woman who went after what she wanted, even if she didn’t know entirely what that entailed beyond the man on the other end of the line. I picked up my phone, searched my contacts, and before I changed my mind, pressed call.
“I knew you’d call.” I heard the deep voice on the other end answer after the second ring.
“How did you know that? I could have been a telemarketer or a wrong number,” I snapped, irritated at being so predictable.
Marcus chuckled over the phone, “Oh, my sweet little sub, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist calling me once you had my number. I will have to say you almost surprised me. I
expected it would take at least another day or two before you gathered the nerve to make the call. I’m extremely happy to hear from you though. There are so many things I have planned, starting tonight.”
“What do you mean, starting tonight? What if I already have plans?” I argued.
“Cancel them. You don’t have plans with anyone else in the foreseeable future. This is non-negotiable. While you are under my tutelage, you will make yourself available to me at anytime, day or night. There will be times when I’ll ask you to attend a dinner or cocktail party with me. There will be other times when you are to be at my home, naked and waiting for me. Whatever it is, when I want you, you’ll be there at my beck and call. You will be available to me tonight. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s my sweet little sub. From this point on you will address me as Sir. Now, like I said, you will get yourself ready for our night together. I want your pussy either trimmed or bare. You will wear a red dress, black heels, and absolutely no underwear. If I find you ever wearing underwear, I will rip them off of you, whether we’re in public or not. I want access to you whenever I want. You have beautiful hair, and you will wear it down for me. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock sharp. Make sure you text me your address.” With that, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, wondering what in the hell I’d agreed to.
I was ready by six thirty. I’d spent all day finding a damn red dress since I didn’t already own one. I groomed myself to his specifications – I couldn’t bring myself to shave completely – and curled my hair. I felt ridiculous, and more than a little uncomfortable, not wearing underwear. I typically wore body shapers under my dresses to help smooth things out, so I definitely wasn’t used to going commando. Thankfully, he didn’t ban my bra. I was too top heavy to go without, and gravity had taken over a long time ago. I’m not sure what I would have done had that been a stipulation. I only prayed it stayed that way.
Thirty minutes of waiting and anticipating passed with me wondering what Marcus had in store for me tonight. I should have taken more time getting ready so I spent less time dwelling and imagining hundreds of different scenarios on what tonight entailed. It promised to be the biggest surprise I’d had in a long time. I hated surprises. I only hoped I received some enjoyment from whatever Marcus planned. I sat on the couch, picked up the TV remote, and began flipping through the stations to find something to occupy myself with while I waited. After five minutes, I gave up, shut the TV off, and picked up my e-reader. I tried to get back into the book I was currently reading. I read the same line over and over and couldn’t seem to move past it. My focus remained elsewhere. I put my e-reader aside and sat there, waiting and thinking. I daydreamed until I heard the doorbell ring. I stood, smoothed down my dress, and fluffed my hair before slowly heading to the door. Deep breath, I told myself. I opened the door to find Marcus dressed almost entirely in black; black silk shirt, again with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, black leather belt, and finally, black Ferragamos. The tiny, red pinstripes in his tie stood out against the backsplash of black.
I greeted him with a simple, “Hi.”
An eternity of awkward silence passed during which time he scrutinized me from head to toe. I grew uncomfortable by his scrutiny and silence. “Would you like to come in?” I asked as I stepped back to let him in. He stepped past me, and the woodsy scent I would always associate with him enveloped me. I closed the door and studied his back while he made his way around my living room, pausing here and there to examine pictures scattered around. Most were pictures of my best friends and me, with a few of me with my parents.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered when he had yet to acknowledge me. I stood there twisting my hands when I caught myself. I pulled my hands to my side and wondered why I acted like a self-conscious twit. Didn’t I possess a backbone? So far, Marcus ignored me, and I wasn’t some wilting flower. Anger burst through me. I didn’t tolerate rudeness well. “If this is how you treat women you ask out on a date, I think we should call it a night before it even begins. You’ve been here for over five minutes, and you’ve ignored me this entire time. Submissive or not, I’m certainly no doormat. I think it would be best if you left.” I moved to open the front door when he turned to face me.
“My apologies for ignoring you. I didn’t intend that at all. To be honest, my thoughts were elsewhere instead of where they needed to be. On you.” Marcus made his way over to me and stopped less than an arm’s length away. He reached out to cup my cheek as he rubbed his thumb over my lips. “I received a phone call earlier that brought some unfortunate and unexpected news. I shouldn’t have brought my bad mood with me and let it affect our first night together. May I offer my apologies by telling you how stunning you are in that dress?”
I had unconsciously leaned into his palm, and his apology brought me upright. I hadn’t expect such a sincere apology. I stared for a minute trying to judge his expression before I nodded, taking him at his word. “Thank you.”
Marcus lowered his hand from my face and traced a line down my arm until he grasped my hand, brought my fingers to his mouth, and kissed my knuckles. “Are you ready?”
I nodded, even though, no, I wasn’t ready to step into this man’s world.
“Yes, I’m ready.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “Sir,” I added belatedly. He wrapped my hand around his bicep and led me out the front door to his waiting car. He opened my door for me, and after situating myself in the front seat, he closed the door before getting behind the wheel.
“Buckle up,” he warned as we set off to wherever our destination might be.
Chapter Four
Marcus
Anger coursed through my veins at the news the security firm I’d hired gave me about Evan Banks. His efforts to fuck with me and mine were tireless and pissed me off. The man was dangerous and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. I paid them a lot of money to find that son of a bitch, and he’d run so far to ground, I had no idea when they’d ever find him. Pissed off and distracted were not emotions I needed to feel tonight. My attention needed to be on more important things — like the beautiful woman sitting beside me.
We pulled into the warehouse district, and I caught Penny looking around the area. She didn’t seem familiar with it. I wasn’t surprised. Not many people knew about the BDSM club tucked inside one of the old warehouse buildings. From the outside, it appeared run down, the way the developer intended. He didn’t want to attract the wrong crowd or the police. Millions of dollars had gone into the project, and the inside of the club was state of the art. I should know. I happened to be an investor. Being a financial advisor gave me a certain expertise when it came to investments. The developer also happened to be a good friend of mine. So, when the opportunity arose, I jumped at it. The club was not only elusive, but exclusive. Members were vetted, and a person needed a special invite to not only become a member, but even to enter. Security denied entrance to any person who attempted to walk in off the street.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Penny looking around for any signs of life. Several cars were parked around a couple of the buildings. No one milled about. There were no restaurants or flashing club lights to signify which building might be occupied. All was quiet and empty. “Where are we?” Penny asked as she warily inspected the area.
I pulled into an empty space and shifted into park before I turned slightly toward her. “Your education begins tonight. This club is by membership or invite only. As a member, you are my guest. This means that you stay with me at all times. No one is allowed to touch you without my permission, and you are not to engage with anyone without first seeking my permission. If you observe a scene that interests you, tell me what it is that interests you. How does it make you feel? If you witness a scene that you have questions about, don’t be afraid to ask. You are not allowed more than one drink and no matter what you see happening inside the club, you wi
ll not interrupt someone’s scene. Are we clear?”
With a nod of acknowledgement, she answered in the affirmative, “Yes, Sir.”
I came around to Penny’s side of the car and assisted her out. With my hand at the small of her back, I directed her to a building kitty-corner from where we had parked. We heard faint music pulsating the closer we walked to it. After reaching the front door, I rapped out a code with my knuckles. Within moments, the door opened to a stocky man with dirty blond hair that touched his shoulders. He wore dark blue jeans, shit kicker boots, and a short-sleeved gray t-shirt that hugged his body so tightly his nipples and the bulging muscles of his biceps were accentuated. In his ear rested a security earpiece with attached microphone.
“Good evening, Mr. Allen.” We were ushered inside, and the door closed behind us.
“Hello, Philip. How are you this evening?”
“I’m doing well, sir. The crowd is sparse. It’s still early though.”
“Has Master Connor arrived yet? I need to speak with him about something.” I spoke with Philip while Penny took in her surroundings. To the naked eye, the foyer appeared lackluster. Bare white walls surrounded us, void of any pictures or paintings. Semi-translucent wall sconces with pale yellow bulbs were the only decoration. Immediately to the left of the door we entered was a coat closet where a few long coats hung, which seemed out of place considering the relatively mild weather we’d been having. Next to the closet was a large, dark wood desk with intricate scrollwork along the border. I smirked as I observed Penny take a closer peek at the desk, squinting to make out the designs. Her eyes popped open when she realized what the designs depicted. The intricate carving along the edges of the desk showed men and women in different sexual positions. Even though I wasn’t an expert, I knew they’d been created by an outstanding craftsman. The attention to detail was almost life-like, displaying every dip, curve, and crevice of the people etched into the wood. She quickly stepped away from the desk and moved closer to me.
