She looked down. The cups didn’t quite conceal her nipples. The bra was not only elegant, it was a marvel of engineering, holding her breasts up without really covering him. Like the garter belt and stockings, it emphasized what was normally covered.
“Is my Master pleased?” she asked, posing for him, hoping she was being seductive.
“I am. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” And I can’t go out into the front lobby like this.
He reached into the bag and pulled out something made of stretchy, shiny black fabric. “A shame, but we need to keep you legal.” He spread it out on the bed. A short dress, with little cutouts, that looked a bit too small for her. The lingerie had fit perfectly, so clearly he knew her size. She picked it up and didn’t find a zipper, but the fabric was stretchy, so she pulled it over herself like a T-shirt. It hugged her curves and didn’t quite come down to midthigh.
“Look in the mirror,” he ordered, and she did.
The collar dipped low in the front, revealing plenty of cleavage, and was so tight that her nipples made clear indents in the fabric. Along the sides, cutouts showed a diamond of flesh on each side and another at her hips—right where the band of her panties would be, if she had been wearing any. Some of the lace at the top of her stockings was visible, and if she stretched, the suspenders showed as well. She wouldn’t have thought that she’d look good in such a tight dress. But I do. I look sexy. Slutty but sexy.
“The dress is just to keep you decent on the way there.”
“It’s not very decent, Master.”
“If you would rather, I have a trench coat, and you could wear that.” He paused, and when she opened her mouth to accept, he added, “Instead.”
She took another look in the mirror. She wanted to wear the dress, and if she wasn’t allowed to wear it in the club, this was her only chance. She just had to brave an elevator ride to his car in the garage underneath the hotel, and then a walk to the club from wherever they parked. She had no idea how long a walk that would be, but she doubted he’d make her walk far in heels, and she wasn’t likely to run into anyone she knew downtown. “I would prefer the dress, Master. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” he corrected. “The dress just stops you from concealing it better than most clothes do.”
She blushed, happy he thought she was beautiful. It was certainly true that the dress didn’t conceal much. She turned around to look at how it looked in the back but got distracted. There was something else in the bag. She caught sight of a thin band of leather before he whisked the bag away and put it out of sight. Was that a collar?
Preoccupied, she glanced over her shoulder toward the mirror. The dress hugged her in back the way it did in front and stretched over her ass. She thought Colby would enjoy the view. What would a collar even mean? Is that about extending things for a month, or just a hot piece of fetish wear for an evening at a club? Maybe something to tell people hands off, she’s mine?
A moment of sadness passed over her. She wanted what she couldn’t have. She wanted it to mean something deep. Something lasting. Love, commitment, all that. She remembered her resolution. She was going to enjoy the evening, and if he put the collar on her for just one night, so be it. Better to have one more night of undivided attention from Colby than to miss out simply because it couldn’t last.
He took the collar, if that was what it was, from the shopping bag and put it in his toy bag, using his body to shield the object from view. He hefted the toy bag over his left shoulder and reached out for her waist with his other arm. She nestled against him, and together they walked to the elevator.
One floor down, a man got on. He was younger, maybe in his thirties, and his long hair and scruffy chin reminded her a little of the father of her children, back when they were still in love and before she realized what an ass he always was. He stared at her. Colby moved her to the other side of him.
“Nice,” drawled the man. Even his voice was a little like that of her ex. “I bet she cost quite a bit.”
The toy bag hit the floor, and Colby let go of her. She didn’t have to look to know that his fists were bunched; she could feel it in his shoulders.
“You couldn’t possibly afford me,” she retorted back. Maybe I look like a hooker, but if I do, I look like a damned fine one, expensive and classy. She tugged on Colby’s elbow.
“I do pretty well for myself,” said the man.
Colby’s voice was cold. “Stop insulting my woman, or you won’t make it to the ground floor intact.”
The elevator door opened on the third floor. The man took a look at Colby, then at Sophia. She just shrugged and nodded. She didn’t want things turning violent, but maybe the best way to do that was to make Colby’s threat stick. She let go of his arm. The older woman waiting to get on the elevator looked at the tense scene with uncertainty but didn’t move.
Then the man got off. The woman got in. And they rode the rest of the way down in silence.
“I’m sorry about that,” Colby said once they were in the parking garage and out of earshot.
She laughed. “Don’t be. It’s nice to be desired. I’m not with you to be a respectable mom—I’m here to get away from that. He looked at me and saw sex, and I hope that’s what you think when you look at me too.”
“It is.”
“Well then, you can’t control other people. You were going to hit him, weren’t you?”
“For a moment there, yes. Then I decided you couldn’t afford to have to go to the police station. Not really the kind of date that’s worth getting a sitter for. So I held back. Reluctantly.”
“Except for the look that made him run away,” said Sophia with a smile. It seemed unlikely the man intended to get off on the third floor all along. She wasn’t the only one who could feel the power that seemed to emanate from the dominant. My Master.
For now.
They arrived at the club thirty-five minutes later and only had to walk a hundred feet or so to the front door from where Colby parked. Colby paid the entry fee. He’d paid for every lunch they ate, which Sophia appreciated in a way. He’d pulled rank on her when she objected. He’d spent all the money to travel, however, and even if part of that was because he wanted to tour the nation’s capital, she felt a bit as if she was the host, and it was her job to feed her guest. But since that argument had gone nowhere at restaurants, she knew there was no point in rehashing it in front of the bright-faced young man who served as receptionist at Crypt of Fate.
She suspected the receptionist was closer to her kids’ age than he was to her own, and it made her feel old and a little bit unsexy as a result. Colby led her by the hand, and she had almost put the thought aside when the first thing she saw when she entered the play area was a blonde girl of college age in black shiny heels, a short plaid skirt, white blouse, and a black bra. The woman was flogging a man with a touch of gray in his hair, and she wondered at their relationship. All men preferred younger women, didn’t they? Even if the girl was the dominant, Sophia was uneasy at the power balance between two people of such diverse ages. But if that man, with a bit of a paunch and apparently submissive, could attract a pretty young thing, surely Colby could.
But he chose her.
He looked over at her. “You’re suddenly tense. The surroundings?” He gestured around, and she took a moment to take them in. The room wasn’t much different from how she’d imagined it. Bondage furniture was scattered around the edges of the room, rather than being mostly in the center like it was at Bondage Ranch. There were places to sit, relax, and chat near the center rather than on the edge. There were a few people playing, and the sound of a man cracking his single-tailed whip punctuated the techno beat that poured from the loudspeakers. It was darker than the dungeon at Bondage Ranch but not so much as to put her off.
“I feel old.”
Colby snorted and led her deeper into the room, toward one of the tables. “You’re younger than I am.”
She s
upposed that was right. But she pressed the point, because the feeling that this was their last date was getting to her, and a part of her wanted an argument even if she knew that was stupid. “I’m sure you could do better.”
“What I care about is maturity, not age. I value your experience. You know what else I value?”
“What, Master?” she asked.
“Your obedience.” He stopped and stood in front of her, blocking her path just a few feet from the tables. “Do you like that dress?”
“Yes, Master.” Very much.
“Would you like to keep it?”
She wasn’t sure where she could wear it, but she did. “Yes.”
“Then take it off.”
“Master?”
“You heard me.” He reached in his pocket and showed her an odd device that had holes for his fingers and a hook with a razor blade on the inside. “This is for cutting rope in an emergency. It will slice your dress in one easy stroke without risking damage to your lovely skin. Up to you.”
When he had told her that she was only wearing the dress until she got to the club before, it had seemed so far away. But she knew if she hesitated, he really would cut the dress off, so she grabbed the hem and yanked upward.
“I also value your delicious body.”
She barely got the dress off before his arms were around her, and he was kissing her deeply. She didn’t object one bit when his hand drifted downward from behind her waist to settle on the lower curve of her bare ass. “And I’m going to play with it tonight. I’m going to drive you mad with desire.”
No, you aren’t. But she was lying to herself. His touch had an effect on her and so did his words. He put a hand between her legs and felt her still-smooth mound. She knew what he would find in a moment, and she didn’t need his words to confirm it.
“You’re wet, slave girl. Very wet.”
“It was the dress, Master,” she lied.
He chuckled. “Did you know that when I’m touching you and I can feel your pulse, I can tell when you aren’t telling me the whole truth?”
“I’ll have to be careful, then.” She wanted to be able to have some mystery.
“It doesn’t work with everyone. But some people can’t control their tells. Never, ever play poker for serious money, Sophia.”
She knew better than to do that. She took a breath.
“I’m going to take you deep, Sophia. I don’t have a right to, but I’m going to anyway, because I think it’s where we both need to go. This will be hard. Are you ready to obey?”
Her heart beat faster. What was he going to have her do? Was he trying to seduce her for his month-long contract, or was he just making sure she had a night to remember? Maybe I should tell him to focus on the latter. But instead she simply said what he expected. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. Did you get spanked for your last birthday, slave girl?”
She giggled. “Um, no.”
He pointed to a piece of furniture. It was made of wood, with rings on the sides and padded places covered with black leather. “That’s a spanking bench, and that’s where we’ll play. There are cleaning supplies on the table to the right of it.” The table was very close to a cross where two women were playing with each other. “Get two of the bleach wipes and wipe down that spanking bench over there. Rather than kneeling next to it, as I had you do at the ranch, straddle it and put your ass up in the air and wait for me.”
“I’ll be very, um, on display, Master. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He picked up his bag and walked over there. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. Usually, she found his calmness reassuring, but this time, it felt almost cold. And what he’d asked her to do was far more exposure than she’d expected. Naked was one thing, but the black leather spanking bench he’d pointed out would spread her legs, possibly expose her pussy. She didn’t want anyone getting ideas—well, anyone but Colby.
“Master,” she said. “Please.” She was a mix of emotions, and she wasn’t even sure what she was asking him for. Tell me you feel like I do.
He stopped. “Please what?”
“Where will you be?” she asked instead. It was safer.
“I will be at the bar, talking to an old friend, until I decide that you’ve waited the right amount of time. I’ll be watching you. I’ll be enjoying watching you. I might even be talking about you. Now go.” He dropped his bag next to the spanking bench and turned to go to the bar. There was a man there who was dressed like a younger version of Colby as she’d first seen him. He looked like a nice guy, although she’d learned she couldn’t trust her instincts in that regard. It didn’t matter.
Talking about me. A blush came to her face, and she realized that was probably his intent. He liked to embarrass her a little and keep her guessing. Anticipating. She noted he’d promised to drive her mad with desire, which didn’t sound like she’d necessarily even get to come. And what is fucked up about me that the idea of him teasing me endlessly makes me wetter than if he’d promised to give me five orgasms with that crazy vibrator of his?
Because I like his attention. And now he’s withholding even that, going and talking to that man. It isn’t like him, really. He always set everything up in the hotel room, and when she offered to help put away rope or something, he told her to stay still and look decorative. So having her clean the equipment before they played was very odd indeed. Maybe it was a sign he couldn’t be bothered, since it was their last day. Or maybe he trusts me now to do a good job with what he asks of me.
She took as much time as she could wiping the bench down, trying to put off the amount of time she’d be spending alone with her ass up in the air. She noticed there was a ridge in the middle of the bench that would rub against her pussy if she straddled it, but the cushions for her knees and forearms were well padded. There were little eyebolts for rope or cuffs. She loved the sensation of his rope and the feeling of not being able to get away. It let her surrender the responsible part of herself and enjoy what he did to her. Even though she had a safe word, it helped her imagine she had no choice.
At last she couldn’t stall any longer. She looked toward the bar, but he was still talking. There were two clear bottles of water next to him, but he wasn’t drinking any. And he was looking straight at her, as was his friend. It’s not that he can’t be bothered. He wants me to feel watched. He’s setting this all up exactly as he wants it, like the sadist he is.
She mounted the horse. If she knelt up just a little, her pussy would be covered, but if she leaned forward and balanced on her forearms or even her hands, she was certain she’d be exposed. He’d like that, and he’d have a perfect view. So would the guy at the bar. So would anyone else who happened to order a drink, and people were continuing to enter the club.
She looked over at him again. He made a little hand gesture that looked to her like the arc of a dolphin jumping above the water, but its meaning was clear enough. She sighed and let her weight fall. Her breasts squished against the cool leather, but the position was a lot more comfortable, with her weight distributed across shins, forearms, chest, and pubic bone. The air of the club caressed the lips of her pussy, making it impossible for her to pretend she might be concealed. I hope you’re enjoying the view, Master. And I hope there are other things to look at in the club for everyone else.
She waited.
He really is my Master. Maybe he sensed that my mood wasn’t right and is letting me get into it. That my love is getting in the way of my submission. If so, what he was doing was working. She wanted to be present for one last night, at least. Wanted to be his slave girl. Wanted everything he would do to her. Of course she wanted more. She wanted him not to leave, but that was impractical. She wanted his collar. She wanted him to tell her that he owned her. I’m still a free spirit. I’m just making an exception for him.
I want him to love me too.
The thought came unbidden, and she pushed it aside with mental force. I’m not a lover. I’m property. All I nee
d is for him to care enough to keep me safe. Love is a lie anyway. Now that’s a thought that will keep my heart in one piece.
It was hard to look back, so she stopped trying, even when she thought she heard his boots on the concrete floor.
“Good girl,” he said. She felt his hand on the small of her back, and her jumbled-up thoughts faded and were replaced by pure contentment. His touch was calming, and he’d been training her to respond to it, to become fully present in the moment when she felt his hand.
“Usually when I spank you or flog you, I bind you so that you will have no trouble staying still. This time will be different. I was testing you just now, and I think you’re ready. No matter what I do, I want you to stay there for me and take what I choose to give you.”
She took a deep breath. Sexy and scary all at once. Then again, that pretty much defined Colby. “What are you going to use on me, Master?”
“Believe it or not, that is partially up to you.” He took out a blanket and unrolled it on the floor in front of her. Inside was a flogger that she knew was gentle. A leather paddle. A long black riding crop. A slightly bent wooden cane. The last one scared her.
“Pick,” he told her.
“What if I want them all?” She was stalling for time, trying to still the fear in her heart. This might very well be her last chance to experience all of this. Even if she sought out another dom, it would take a long time to establish the kind of trust she had with Colby. She didn’t have the time for that with everything else going on in her life.
An Expert in Domination Page 13
