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by Becca Jameson


  How he’d gotten hung up on a woman like this was beyond him. He’d never had anyone under his skin before, especially not someone like Emily. There was something about her… Her innocence. The way she held her lower lip between her teeth when he made her nervous.

  Besides her lack of experience, which he assumed extended beyond BDSM and also applied to her sexual experience in general, she didn’t look like someone he normally found attractive. She was so petite, he could lift her with one hand. He hadn’t seen enough of her to know for sure what was under her blouse, but it wasn’t the voluptuous sort of rack he was used to.

  And yet, he’d woken up halfway through the night nearly every day for the last week gasping for air after dreaming about wrapping his hands around her breasts and pinching her nipples to tight peaks.

  Something about how pure she was made his cock ache from being stiff for seven days and nights. He’d jerked off to visions of her in the back of his mind every day, but nothing had taken away the desire to touch her that consumed him.

  He didn’t just want to touch her; he wanted to rule her. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would show up and he could purge her from his system. Surely, his imagination had gotten away with him, and he’d created an image that was nothing like the real deal.

  Or better yet, maybe she wouldn’t show up and he would be done with her by default.

  As he lifted his water bottle once again, he spotted her across the room. He held the water midway to his mouth, his jaw hanging open to take the swig. But he froze to watch her step farther into the club.

  She looked different. He watched as she smoothed her palms down the sides of her top and over her hips. The purple was hot. He liked it. Although it covered way too much of her skin. The black skirt was clearly a stretch for her too, seeing as she tugged at the hem, squeezing her legs together as though it were too short.

  It wasn’t short enough for Rider, but it was a start. Her small breasts were pushed up by the tight fit of the top, giving her a hint of cleavage.

  She stood still after she was fully inside and scanned the bar area, making him smile. Her girlfriend wasn’t with her. Hmm.

  He didn’t move, partially because he loved taking in her stance as she looked for him.

  When she released her skirt and clasped her hands together in front of her, she twisted them awkwardly, seemingly holding on to herself to keep steady.

  Her thick blonde hair was down again tonight, tucked behind her ears. It made her look very young. As a section fell in front of her face, she reached with one hand to tuck it back into place.

  That was when she spotted him.

  And that was when he forgot to breathe.

  Her face lit up for a split second. If he’d blinked, he would have missed it. It was subtle. And then she schooled her expression, a flush creeping over her cheeks.

  He waited, not moving. He wanted her to come to him, but he also wasn’t sure he could make his feet move in her direction.

  Her gaze dipped for a moment and then it lifted back to meet his. He could imagine the sort of internal dialogue going on in her head, telling her to go to him. And the war she was having against that voice, the voice of reason, telling her to turn and run from the room.

  He liked that he made her nervous, off kilter.

  But even more, he liked that she made his cock harder.

  He waited. A standoff. What would she do?

  Finally, she stepped his direction, her heels making her body longer than he remembered. Her legs looked fantastic, bare under the skirt and muscular all the way down to her feet.

  As she wove through the crowd in his direction, she glanced at him every chance she got.

  He didn’t move, trying hard not to give away anything he was feeling with his expression. He set the water bottle on the bar behind him as she approached.

  Finally, she was right in front of him. “Hi,” she muttered.

  “You decided to come,” he stated.

  “Not without a lot of back and forth,” she admitted, tipping her face to one side. “I’ve never been this nervous in my life.”

  “Good.” He loved that. If she weren’t nervous, he’d be concerned. Anyone this new to the lifestyle needed to have their eyes open wide and a questioning attitude or they wouldn’t make a good submissive. He wouldn’t find her remotely attractive if she bowed to his wishes easily. There most certainly was such a thing as too submissive.

  She misunderstood his meaning apparently, because her eyes widened with shock.

  “What I mean is, it’s good for you to be nervous. I’m proud of you for having the gumption to come to me, but your hesitation is a turn on at the same time.”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  Rider reached for her chin and tipped her head back to meet her gaze more fully. “Usually I would require my subs to keep their eyes to the ground. I told you that last week. But, I don’t want you to do that tonight. First of all, I love the deep blue of your beautiful eyes, and second of all, I can judge your reactions better if you look at me.”

  She nodded again.

  He lowered his hand to the strap of her top across her shoulder. The leather was fake, which wasn’t unusual. There were lots of quality pieces these days made of a faux leather. The fit was okay, but not perfect. No, that wasn’t entirely true. The outfit was the right size, it just didn’t quite suit her body type. “Where did you shop?”

  “Um, some place outside of town.”

  He narrowed his gaze. That was vague. “Not Vegas?”

  “No. I, uh… I didn’t want to run into anyone I know.”

  He chuckled. Ahh. Now I get it. “So you drove to another town. I see. Didn’t the employee help you?” He could see that either the worker had been too busy or didn’t know his or her job well to select this particular outfit.

  She hesitated. “No. I did it myself.” Her flush deepened until her cheeks were bright red. “Is it bad?”

  He smiled. “No. Just not really you. And there’s too much of it.”

  “What does that mean?” She glanced down at herself and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Rider reached with both hands and took her wrists to tug them away from her body. “It means you need something a bit more formfitting to push your breasts higher. Like a corset. Something without straps. The bodice should hold itself up without help. It would accentuate your chest more.”

  She didn’t move for a moment, watching his face, her mouth hanging open. And then she nodded. “I was trying to avoid just that.”

  He chuckled again. “I see.”

  She lowered her gaze.

  Rider didn’t want her to take her blue eyes off him. He lifted her chin again, releasing her wrist. “You look fantastic. One hundred percent more suited to the environment over the last three weeks. I’ll give you the name of a specific shop and a woman I want you to see there, and she’ll set you up with something better.

  “The right outfit can make you feel so sexy you don’t even need a Dom to reinforce that knowledge.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why are you so worried about going someplace local?”

  “I work in a high school. I don’t want anyone to find out I’m dabbling in the fetish world on the side. It could hurt my reputation and cost me my job.”

  “Ah. I see. Well, Danielle’s very discreet. She wouldn’t breach the confidence of any client. I promise. Besides, what makes you think you won’t run into anyone here in the club?”

  She glanced around, cringing. “Don’t remind me. But I figure if I saw anyone here, they would be in the same boat as me, needing to stay under the radar.”

  “There are lots of fetish clubs in the area, so your chances are pretty slim you’ll run into anyone you know. Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Yeah?”

  She nodded, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth again.

  Rider lifted one hand to stroke along her lip and tug the offended flesh out for his touch. He could tell she held her
breath as he let his gaze linger on her full lips, the way she held her mouth open a slit.

  When she licked her lips, her tongue touching his thumb by accident, he fought to breathe.

  She was so fucking sexy, enhanced by the fact she had no idea.

  He finally dropped his hand and clasped her smaller one in his. “Come on. I’ll show you around. I haven’t seen you do more than sit in the booth over there and people watch so far.” He nodded to the corner where he’d approached her last week. “Have you gone down the hall and watched any of the scenes yet?”

  She shook her head.

  He led her away from the bar, keeping her hand in his as he wove through the crowd. When he reached the far wall where it was less crowded, he leaned her against the corner and ducked his head to meet her gaze once more.

  With his hands on her shoulders, he decided to question her. “Did you follow my directions this week?”

  “I did.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Please address me as Sir.”

  She gulped, more than a swallow. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You shaved every morning?”

  “I did, Sir.” She shivered, as though the memory of doing so was almost overload.

  “If I were to run my finger across your pussy, I’d find it completely smooth?”

  She inhaled sharply but nodded.

  Rider set his thumb on her pulse at her neck, feeling it increase.

  “Are you wearing panties, Emily?”

  “Yes…Sir.”

  “Give them to me.”

  She flinched. But she’d given them to him last week before she’d known much of anything about him, so he didn’t expect her to balk.

  And she didn’t hesitate more than a few moments, attempting to glance around him to see if anyone was looking.

  “Eyes on me, Emily. Don’t worry about anyone else. They aren’t worried about you.” He stepped back, releasing her, and nodded toward her skirt.

  Emily tucked her thumbs under the edges of her skirt, hiking it up almost enough for him to get a glimpse of her pussy, but not quite. She tugged her panties down, wiggling her waist in both directions to get them over her small hips.

  As she bent to step out of them, he noticed how much material they had. A tiny black thong. He would have loved to have seen her in it. Another time. For now, he liked her bare under whatever she wore. It would keep her mind in the zone and hold her body in a state of arousal. At least that was the goal.

  “I’ll take those.” He held out a hand.

  “In a few weeks my underwear drawer is going to be empty,” she muttered. Her fingers shook as she set them in his palm.

  To see her reaction, Rider lifted the scrap of lace to his face and inhaled her scent. Her thong was soaked. If he stuck out his tongue he would be able to taste her on the material. “So sweet,” he whispered. He forced himself to tuck the black lace in his jeans pocket.

  Her flush deepened yet again.

  He cupped the side of her face with his hand and stroked her heated cheek. And then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re panties are soaked, baby. Do I do that to you?”

  She gasped, her hands reaching up to grasp his forearms.

  He smiled as he pulled back. “I’ll take that as a yes. I like it.”

  He more than liked it. He loved it. He could think of nothing sexier than this tiny fairy in front of him, so innocent and pure, turned on by his commands.

  Oh, yeah, he could train her all right. She was a natural.

  The question was, could he let her go afterward?

  •●•

  Emily couldn’t believe she stood once again inside this fetish club, handing a stranger her panties…again, and letting his good looks and dominating ways consume her until her knees wobbled and she doubted she’d be able to walk…again.

  Whatever possessed her to return tonight had a grip on her Superglue would have trouble competing with.

  Virginia had needed to go to her mother’s for the night, so she hadn’t been available to join Emily this time. In fact, Emily had not mentioned to Virginia she was coming tonight. And without Virginia here, there was no one to snoop around and find out more about Rider. She figured this was a make it or break it sort of deal. She was on her own.

  Tonight had nothing to do with Claire. Tonight was all about Emily and delving into a side of herself she never knew existed.

  She’d made a bargain with herself. If this hulk of male perfection caused her to react in the same way she had last week, and every day in between, when she saw him again, she’d know it wasn’t a fluke. She was determined to give it a try.

  She had the entire summer to explore this strange new aspect of her life before she would return to work fulltime and put this all behind her. A fling. An experiment in sexuality so to speak. What harm could it do? It wasn’t as though she could keep up this sort of routine in the fall. She wouldn’t have time, and besides, her privacy was at stake. She’d be pushing her luck to attempt to continue coming to Extreme on Friday nights after her students were back.

  “Emily.”

  She focused on his face, his smooth cheeks. His youth jumped out at her. He was so fucking sexy, he could have been a model. Maybe he was. She had no idea what he did for a living.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Stop wearing them and you won’t lose them.”

  “Wearing what?” She’d lost track of what they were discussing.

  His grin spread. “Panties, baby. Thongs. Whatever. Don’t wear them anymore. Leave your pussy open and bare. Can you do that for me?”

  Like all the time? She nodded. Surely he didn’t mean all the time. And how would he know? Maybe just on Fridays when she came to the club.

  Her sex clenched. Pussy. He kept referring to her sex as her pussy. And it was hot. It made her squeeze her legs together every time.

  Rider stuck one leg between her feet and nudged her knees apart. “Spread your legs, baby. Open for me.”

  She did as he said, praying for two opposite things. For one, she wanted him to touch her—down there. She would give anything for him to finger her. She believed she could probably come against this wall if he did so. On the other hand, she prayed he wouldn’t do any such thing, fearing she’d make a total fool of herself if he did. Her ears rang with the pulse of blood beating in her eardrums. Even with her legs spread, she could feel the heat rising between them, the moisture gathering at her entrance. If it ran down her thigh, she’d be mortified.

  “Good girl. Now, I’m going to show you around a bit, and then we’re going to talk.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. He simply took her hand again and led her down the side hall. She knew what was down the hall, she just hadn’t ventured in that direction before, afraid to watch the scenes and further corrupt her brain.

  But now, she was on that path, no heading back.

  Rider paused at the first scene. He leaned back against the opposite wall, obviously intended for voyeurs, and pulled her between his legs, her back to his chest. He set his chin on her shoulder and whispered into her ear. “This is a St. Andrew’s cross. It can be used for many types of scenes, but this Dom is letting his sub hold on to the ropes above her with her own free will while he flogs her.”

  Jesus. Thank God she hadn’t wandered down this hall by herself at any point. “Why?”

  Rider chuckled. “It’s such a release of endorphins. Until you’ve experienced it, you can’t imagine. There aren’t words.”

  “Have you done that?” She twisted to look at him, wishing she could take the words back. Of course he’d done it. He was a Dom.

  He didn’t laugh at her though. “I’ve both flogged and been flogged at various times. Yes. But don’t worry. I would never flog you without your permission. And you’re way too green for anything of this level. I might spank you along the way if I feel it’s necessary, but I wouldn’t flog you for a very long time.”

  Emily stiffened. Spank me? She couldn’t believe he’d said that. If
I feel it’s necessary…

  “You heard me. Not today. But if you want to train under me, you’ll frequently find yourself with a pink behind.” He smoothed his hands down her arms until his fingers entwined with hers. And then he continued. “Trust me, baby. You’ll love it. After the first time, I won’t know if you’re acting up in order to get spanked again or if you’re a sloppy submissive.”

  She shook her head. Love it? That was impossible to imagine. Her heart rate increased until she was breathing heavily.

  “God, you’re precious. Just the idea gets you hot.”

  No. It couldn’t be true. She refused to believe a word of it.

  She returned her gaze to the scene, anything to avoid looking in his eyes while he spoke of doing things to her she couldn’t fathom while at the same time making her stomach clench with the need to experience every word.

  The woman on the cross indeed held on with both hands, listing from side to side and moaning as her Dom whipped something leather through the air, striking her repeatedly across the ass and thighs. Emily couldn’t imagine a time when she would want to participate in anything like that. No way in hell.

  Rider nudged her forward. “Let’s go see the next scene, baby.”

  Every time he called her “baby” she tightened. She couldn’t decide if she should be annoyed or not, but she found the term endearing.

  The next room had a bench in it. No one was using it for anything at the moment, but two men were speaking to each other next to it, one on his knees with his head bowed, the other above him.

  “They’re gay?” She immediately wished she could take the words back. They sounded crass.

  Rider didn’t flinch. He leaned in to her ear again. “They are, though that isn’t a requirement here. They could be anything. But I know those two guys. They’re a couple. You’ll love them both if you get to know them. Everyone does.”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “Watch and see.”

  She stopped speaking or moving as the man on his knees rose to shuffle toward the bench. It was like a narrow picnic bench, the top not more than four inches wide and padded. He wore only a G-string and followed his Dom’s directive to lie over the top of the bench, nestling his knees and elbows on the lower sections, also padded.

 

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