Curiously Curious (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Mimi Tulane

  Imani was floored. She had prepared herself for whatever he would do to her as punishment for her disobedience. However, she wasn’t sure how to handle him denying her what she wanted as a punishment! So she proceeded to bargain and wasted her breath.

  “But, Mac, you promised me you’d give me what I wanted!”

  Her eyes were large and full of desire, which caused Mac to chuckle without remorse. His choice of punishment was proving to be the right course of action where his naughty little kitten was concerned. “You will have to learn to follow my commands, baby, so now you must wait.”

  Imani cursed her impulsiveness and continued to beg, unashamed. “Mac, I’m sorry. Can I have a second chance? I will follow your commands to the letter, baby, please. I promise I won’t move a muscle, hell I won’t try to touch you if you don’t say so, just damn it, Mac!” she whined as her lust continued to climb, her frustrations growing higher as her pussy ached. The look on his face told her he was not being swayed by her entreaties.

  Mac was now standing before her, reaching for his briefs, teasing her by running his fingers along the band but not removing them. “Of course, baby girl, you’ll be given many chances. Submission is not learned overnight. However, stop your pleading. No spanking for you,” he said, leaning down an inch above her face, then lower to her nipples, gently licking them a few times before blowing his warm breath over them and watching them bead into hard buds for him.

  Imani reminded herself that she’d also agreed to be taught whatever he wanted to show her. She trusted him and had made a personal contract with him, safe word picked out and everything! Why had she been so foolish? This was not going to be a walk in the park! This man was a Master at what he did! How was she ever going to make her unruly body obey and fight her natural impulses? Putting a clamp on her mouth by literally biting down on her lower lip, she at least elicited a smile from Mac from her acquiescence.

  “Now, stand up and remove the rest of your clothing for me.”

  Imani knew he was testing her resolve. Doing as he bade, she rose from the bed.

  He in turn switched places with her, sitting on the bed while she faced him and began to remove her clothing for him slowly, shrugging off her open blouse and bra then reaching behind her to unzip her skirt and let it pool at her feet. She stood in front of him, topless, clad only in her panties and heels.

  Desire seized him in a death grip from the sight of her.

  “Turn around for me, baby, slowly. Let me look at you.”

  Imani turned around as gracefully as any model on a runway, given the situation, and Mac inhaled sharply at the sight of her perfect ass, her panties somewhat lost between the soft, bubbled cheeks. He restrained himself from reaching out and smacking her on it. His palm damn near throbbed from the need to touch those perfect cheeks as she completed her turn for him.

  “Imani, I want you to kneel, heels tucked under that fine ass of yours, placing your palms upright upon your thighs. This is how you will show your submission to me and your acceptance of who I am to you.”

  Imani did as he wished, lowering herself smoothly upon the plush carpet floor in front of him, her heels beneath her bottom, her hands resting on top of her thighs, palm up. “Like this, Mac?” she asked somewhat timidly.

  “Yes, baby, you did that perfectly. Imani, I will teach you whatever you wish me to, but I’m not looking to become your Dom,” he said, gently cupping her lowered chin, again finding her unconscious acts of submission to be just as compelling as her willingness to please him. “I will share all that I have and all that I am with you for as long as you will have me.”

  “I’d like to be yours, Mac…in every way. Please, I want to be your woman and your submissive,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes.

  The sincerity of her admission touched a part of him so deep he found it extremely hard not to reach down, pull her into his bed, dispensing with any lessons for tonight and just make love to her. “Are you sure, baby? I told you, you don’t have to. I can seek out a trained sub,” he said.

  Imani looked at him sharply. Another female for him, doing what she couldn’t or wouldn’t? Hell no! Shaking her head fiercely, she replied, “No, Mac, I want to do this with you, please.”

  Closing his eyes, Mac felt his world was coming together in this very moment. The woman he’d secretly longed for accepted his lifestyle, wanted to be with him and be his submissive.

  Opening his eyes, he looked into her beautiful face, speaking to her from his heart. “Then I will accept you as my submissive, if you will honor me in becoming your Dom by addressing me as Sir.”

  Imani smiled, slowly disobeying one last time to press a kiss into the palm of his hand, an act so sweet Mac let it slide. She was, after all, a beginner, and messing up came along with the process of learning and growing. He instead caressed her cheek, and his chest swelled with pride when she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mac reached down and held his hand out to Imani. “Come to me, baby, there’s something I’d like to give you to seal our commitment.”

  Rising gracefully from the floor, Imani let herself be led over to his chest of drawers.

  “I was a bit presumptuous when I had this made, acting on a hunch, really. Once I saw your eyes light up from discovering my flogger, I had a friend who is a lifestyler make this for me.”

  Mac handed Imani a jewelry case. She looked at him questioningly and he nodded. Damn, she was a quick study. She didn’t make a move to open the box without receiving his permission first. Imani was amazing Mac with her uncanny submissive behaviors. He was going to have to keep himself in check. He could easily see himself beating some bastard into the ground for daring to look at his woman the wrong way.

  Gingerly Imani opened the case then fingered the odd pendant inside of it attached to a black silk ribbon. “Mac, it’s lovely. The design is simple but beautiful. What is it?” she asked demurely.

  Reaching inside of the case, Mac retrieved the pendant. “This emblem identifies the three tenants of BDSM, which are?” He waited for her to reply.

  “Safe, Sane, and Consensual,” she answered promptly and was rewarded with his smile.

  “Turn around for me baby, and lift your hair. When we are having a training session, I’d like your hair pinned up off of your neck,” he instructed, placing the pendant about her neck then securing it, kissing the soft skin where her neck and shoulders met and causing Imani to tremble from the gentle intimate contact.

  Imani fingered the delicate choker. “It’s beautiful, Mac. Thank you.”

  “This will serve as your training collar. To the outside world, it’s little more than a pretty choker, but for us, as well as anyone else in the lifestyle, it symbolizes you have embraced BDSM. You’ll only wear this during your training period, at home or as time goes on to the various functions I attend with other lifestylers. If you are truly serious, committed to learning and growing with me, at each stage of your progression you will be rewarded with a new collar, one that celebrates and distinguishes your level of training.”

  Imani’s eyes widened. This made the second time he had referred to his home as just home. “Mac, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know the wearing of a collar held so much importance. I thought it was just kinky decoration, a bit demeaning, in fact, like having a trained monkey on a leash,” she said.

  “Oh no, baby girl, wearing your Dom’s collar is serious business. It’s a sign of devotion and commitment. For each relationship it can hold different meaning, but for us, my giving you my collar signifies I am totally devoted to you as a Dom and will require the same level of commitment from you as my submissive.

  “There will be times when you must remove your collar, such as showers, or being in mixed company. Again, not everyone understands or wants to understand our lifestyle. Therefore, in some instances wearing your collar may cause discomfort to you or those around you. I do not subscribe to humiliating tactics or derive pleasure from public di
splays of loyalty. There are some Doms that require a ‘field test.’ They demand their subs to be collared at all times in every setting. All I ask is that you come to me if you need to remove your collar. Removing your collar without my permission essentially voids our contract, and I will no longer consider you as my sub,” he stated gravely.

  Everything had culminated into this very moment. The entire day had led to this pivotal point in time. Imani somehow felt liberated. Funny, considering she’d just relinquished all control of herself over to Mac.

  “I wouldn’t dream of removing this, Mac,” she said sincerely.

  Turning her to face him, he kissed her forehead. “Then this evening’s instruction has concluded. Imani, I’d like you to share my bed tonight.”

  Imani’s pulse quickened. “I had no plans of leaving,” she said, biting her lower lip.

  Mac gently swung Imani into his arms then carried her back to the bed. He slowly allowed her panty-clad body to slide down his. As he did so, her nipples rubbed a trail against the wide expanse of his chest. He reached around her trembling body to pull back the duvet and toss the pillows aside then lower her onto her back, kissing her deeply.

  “As much as I’d love to make love to you tonight, I think you need to rest. Where are the keys to your apartment?”

  “In my purse, Mac, but I left it downstairs.”

  Nodding, he settled her in his massive four-poster bed then headed to the closet to pull on a pair of sweats and a fresh T-shirt and grabbed his basketball shoes.

  “May I go inside of it? I know how you women get about your purses.” He grinned boyishly.

  Imani was perplexed but she gave her consent nonetheless. “Mac, where are you going?” she asked.

  “To your place, to pack some of your clothing. You’ll be spending the weekend with me,” he said, the decision made.

  Imani blinked and nodded her head.

  Walking over to her, he cupped her face. “I won’t be gone long. Do you have anything in particular you’d like for me to grab as far as toiletries? I will decide your clothing choices for this weekend.”

  Imani smiled. So this was the beginning of relinquishing her control, not just sexually but in all things with him. “Surprise me!” she said sassily.

  Mac’s grin widened. Oh, his sexy kitten still had her sass, and he was damn proud of her. “Very well. Stay in bed.” Grabbing another quick kiss, Mac headed downstairs, snagging her keys, then drove over to her place.

  Chapter Eight

  As he drove the short distance to Imani’s building, he turned over the day’s events. His little secretary was home in his bed, waiting for him. Things had definitely changed but for the better. He only hoped that they would continue to grow. Mac promised himself to take it slow and be patient with Imani. It was more important to him to have her in his life in whatever capacity she chose. She wanted to be his sub. He felt complete.

  He parked next to the Navigator parked in the spot designated for management. He recognized the vehicle as belonging to her bitch-ass landlord, Stanley Cooper. Using Imani’s keys, he unlocked the security door, then, instead of climbing the flight of stairs that led to Imani’s place, he went down to the basement level where the asshole kept an office.

  Surprise, surprise, his door was open. A lingering cloud of stale cigarette smoke illuminated the rotund, sloppy man seated behind a raggedy secondhand desk, thumbing through a copy of Hustler magazine. Not bothering to knock, Mac stood in the doorway and spoke. “You still want to sell the building?”

  Mac’s inquiry was more of a direct challenge than a question.

  Stanley started visibly sweating. The last person he wanted to tangle with was Mac. Not after the stunt he had pulled. “Hey, man, kinda late for house calls, ain’t it? I was on my way out,” he stammered then tried to rise a few times, nearly stuck in the too-small, broken-down chair.

  “Sit down!” Mac growled as he watched the weasel do as he ordered. “Why I’m here is none of your damn business, my friend,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he stalked forward. Leaning over, his fist planted on the top of the nasty desk, his face was a few inches in front of Stanley, who was now sweating profusely.

  Mac had no patience where unscrupulous business dealings were concerned. Cooper had led him to believe he wanted a contract to lease some trucks from him a few years ago to use for his rent-to-own store. What he didn’t tell Mac was his store was failing. Mac loaned him a truck to put on display for potential rental customers. He in turn used the truck to hide the inventory from the bank that was coming to collect on his defaulted business loan. When the bank came to collect, they inadvertently seized Mac’s truck as collateral. It had taken weeks to sort out. To compound the matter, the incompetence of his former secretary had had him wading through weeks of her inept filings and sloppy record keeping. He had thanked his lucky stars the day Imani breezed into his office, setting the place and his records to rights.

  “Name your price. I’m only going to offer nicely once,” he ground out.

  Over dinner he had found another reason to want to bitch slap Cooper’s pathetic ass. This fucker had come on to his woman while on a maintenance call and still hadn’t fixed the fucking problem. Imani had joked about it during their dinner, but Mac found it far from amusing.

  “Uh, yeah, Mac, but it’s going as is!” he threw out, then gave him an astronomical figure, well above the true worth of the damn piece of shit he passed off as garden apartments. Mac made a counteroffer with a threat of having his brother Raymond, a building inspector for the city, come out and check for code violations, and the bitch caved, just as he knew he would. He accepted the terms Mac laid out.

  “You’ll hear from my attorney in the morning. In the meantime, if you so much as breathe in the direction of Apt B, you’ll be picking your head out of your fat ass, you dig?”

  Stanley Cooper nodded his head up and down, looking like an overstuffed bobblehead toy.

  Mac snorted then turned on his heel, leaving the fat goblin mopping his face in relief.

  Letting himself into Imani’s apartment, his former smile returned. He’d been there a few times, always professionally, and it was the same as he remembered. Her décor was eclectic. The lingering scent of incense permeated the air. Lovely Afrocentric art prints hung above her overstuffed sofa. Her apartment was a two-bedroom deal, although the second bedroom was barely that at all and had no closet in it, making it out of code to be classified as one. Now that he owned the building, he made a note to contact Ray to go over the building from top to bottom. He’d be sure to bring things up to code and offer the current tenants something better in the area of amenities. He’d also find a new building manager. One that could be trusted.

  He made his way to her master and found her luggage, grabbing her overnight case and a garment bag. He made note of the sizes of her skirts, blouses, shoes, even her bras and panties, as he packed a few outfits and plenty of lingerie. He packed some exercise gear as well, in case she wanted to work out in his home gym. Walking over to her vanity, he packed her Chloe perfume, her cosmetics case, her hairbrush and flat irons, and then grabbed some of her toiletry items before leaving her apartment and heading for home.

  Walking inside and setting his alarm, he took the stairs two at a time, anxious to get back to Imani. However, he stopped short once he stepped inside his bedroom, his chest tightening slightly from the sight of her curled onto her side, head on his pillow, sound asleep. Her long lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks as she serenely slept. His collar was visible around her neck, because she’d braided her hair and tucked it under, pulling her hair from her shoulders as he’d instructed earlier.

  “Damn, baby girl,” he murmured, setting her bags down then stripping out of his clothes, climbing naked into bed and pulling her into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she murmured something in her sleep and snuggled close to him. Reaching to turn off the bedside lamp, he vowed to make their life together meaningful. Now that he had
her he was never letting her go.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun streaming into the bedroom from the windows awakened Imani from her sleep. Slightly disoriented, she blinked a few times, then the realization of where she was—still in bed beside Mac, clad in only her panties—had heat washing through her. What a wake-up call! Turning over onto her side and propping her head with her hand, she smiled. His wide shoulders and narrow waist were exposed. The sheet was draped over the lower half of his body. She drank him in as he slept, resisting the urge to reach over and run her hands down his mahogany-hued skin.

  As if he felt her eyes on him, he stirred then turned over. His eyes were wide open.

  Imani’s smile widened. “Good morning, Sir, I do believe you were playing possum,” she quipped.

  Mac grinned. “Good morning, my sassy kitten, and I’m very pleased you remembered to address me as Sir.” Reaching over, he cupped the back of her neck, drawing her down to him to kiss her deeply. As he did so, he slid his hand to release the clasp on her choker, the temporary collar he’d given her last night for training.

  Startled, Imani gasped, reflexively reaching for her collar to hold it in place.

  “It’s okay, baby, I thought you might want to use the bathroom and shower,” he murmured. As she relaxed her smile returned and Mac outlined his plans for them today.

  “Imani, I’d like to choose your attire for you today. We’ll shower, dress, then have breakfast. Grace has the weekends off, so there is no danger of her intruding upon your training time. This entire weekend will be devoted to your instructions, is that understood?” His voice was not patronizing but smooth as silk and already had Imani’s core weeping.

  “Yes, Sir,” she stated simply.

  With a nod of his head, Mac whipped off the sheet to exit the bed and Imani swallowed back a whimper. Mac had come to bed nude. The sight of his cock, semihard, nearly made her swoon. His cock was at least nine inches and on perfect display for her viewing pleasure.