“I’ll be here tomorrow, if you’d like to come again.”
“Coming once would have been nice,” she snapped.
He chuckled. “Bad choice of words.”
She laughed. “Horrible,” she agreed. But the tension had broken. Her laughter was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, full throated and joyful. When he first met her, he would have expected her to have a tinny giggle. For all her inexperience, though, she wasn’t a mouse. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Don’t hold your breath. Go ahead and, uh, get involved.”
He nodded. Was it his imagination or his ego that made him think she’d been reluctant to add that last part? Her reluctance didn’t necessarily mean she was feeling jealous. She might want to keep her options open.
“I’m very busy,” she said. He suspected she was trying to let him down easy. That was usually his job. “But thank you for the interesting experience. I have to admit, it was nothing like I was expecting.” She surprised him by hugging him. He held her close. She felt warm and soft, even in her stiffly starched uniform. Then she gave him a
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slight smile, pulled away, and slipped into her car. He waited until her legs were inside and shut the door. He watched her fiddle with her phone before setting it back in her purse. She didn’t look at him again as she backed over the grass that served as the parking lot. He walked toward Bondage Ranch. The day was young. He could find someone else to play with for the evening, probably. He wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t feel like doing exactly that.
On Sunday evening, when it was all over, he had a flight to catch. Nonstop to London, where he had a chance to invest in an online publishing start-up, if the business plan looked solid. Then he’d go to Holland to visit his grandmother, who had raised him after his parents split up when he was small. Pushing ninety, her mind was still razor sharp, and she prided herself on her self-sufficiency, but she always had a few little repair jobs saved for him. After that, if everything worked out, Singapore for another business opportunity, and then possibly Tokyo. He’d stay at the finest hotels—with the exception of his grandmother’s house—and eat at the finest restaurants, not that they could beat Oma’s home cooking.
He stopped at the front door and decided he wasn’t in the mood for company.
Alex would want to quiz him about Constance, and he didn’t have the answers to her questions. He walked around the house, intending to take a stroll in the woods.
He passed the stocks, where Mistress Sue had a new guy he didn’t recognize trapped and manacled. On the swings, Arthur was fucking Samantha, both of them totally absorbed in each other. Hadn’t they been doing a waxing session a couple of hours ago? And here they were, going at it again. Apparently married life wasn’t so bad.
A big man he didn’t know was setting up sound equipment on the wooden stage.
He’d missed the morning demonstration on caning, which he wasn’t especially interested in, but maybe he’d watch the afternoon’s, when Bruce gave a how-to on kinbaku, the art of Japanese erotic rope bondage. Bruce definitely knew his ropes. For
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simple restraint, Aidan preferred the practicality and ease of modern cloth and Velcro cuffs, but he was interested in learning about some of the fancier applications of rope.
It was a nice evening, and the weather promised to be decent all weekend. He wondered how many couples were playing in the woods or at the pony track. He set out down the path into the woods. Constance wasn’t the only one who needed some processing time. The thought of how her smooth thighs felt under his fingers and the way her nipple tasted when he sucked on it made him hard again. Maybe he’d get over her faster if he went to his room and jerked off some of the tension. But instead he was going to enjoy the fresh mountain air and do his best to ignore his raging hard-on.
He made a point of appreciating the reds, oranges, and yellows of the early fall foliage, mixed with the greens of leaves that hadn’t turned yet. He tried to savor the crunch of twigs underneath his feet, the freshness of the mountain air in his lungs.
He’d wanted to get her panties off, to plunge his fingers into her soft wetness and make her come. It annoyed him he still had no idea what her face looked like in the moment of ecstasy or how tight her pussy squeezed in her climax. She’d been so close to asking. He’d thought she would. She obviously wanted to. But she was prouder than that. A sub like Brenda would have played coy, knowing all along she’d act out surrender in the end, but for Constance, admitting she wanted a more intimate touch wouldn’t have been acting or calculation. It would have been a real surrender.
He snorted. So much for walking in the woods clearing his mind. It seemed to be stuck on a certain little pastry chef.
He heard a low moan off to the side. There was a clearing there with a tree with smooth bark and a couple of branches that were perfect for tying arms to. A pretty young lady had showed him the spot the first time he’d come to Bondage Ranch. He’d been back to Bondage Ranch every chance he got since, despite the fact that Amsterdam and London had their share of BDSM clubs he could go to. He enjoyed the chance to play outdoors, but he also appreciated the variety of people he met. Most of them knew each other from one of the local scenes—Bondage Ranch was not too far from
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Philadelphia, Baltimore, or Washington—and Aidan suspected he’d never fully fit in, but in a way, that was all to the best. He could keep his relationships short and satisfying, and whenever he happened to be on the East Coast, he could visit a BDSM or fetish club and expect to know a person or two.
That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?
As busy as he was with work, he didn’t have time for any more than that. There was always a new investment possibility and a new place to travel to.
He swatted at the back of his neck. He had been so preoccupied with Constance he’d forgotten that nice weather at Bondage Ranch tended to mean mosquitoes. There was bug spray at the door from the ballroom to the outside, and people usually slathered it on before going out to play. Well, at least he didn’t have a lot of skin showing. He kept going, trying to figure out why he was letting one inexperienced submissive throw off an entire weekend of play. Perhaps he’d feel like a scene later on.
Maybe one of the demos would strike some spark. It was often easy to find a willing partner afterward.
Constance drove down the twisted highway with both windows open. If she had a convertible, the top would be down. It was a perfect day, cool enough that the wind bit, but she liked the way it made her feel alive. She’d normally spend the day experimenting in the kitchen, but today was too good to miss. So she’d decided to go for a drive, and after a few miles, she realized she was headed toward Bondage Ranch.
She hadn’t taken a day off for over a month. And if she was going to take any day off, what better than a sunny, not-too-hot not-too-cold day with a light breeze. The place to be on a day like today was on the beach or in the mountains, and the good beaches were a three-hour drive. Bondage Ranch, however, was nicely nestled in the mountains.
She’d had wild fantasies the night before. It started with Aidan, naturally, and him finishing what he’d started the day before. Stripping off her panties and fucking her
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hard. She’d gone to get her vibrator and had been vaguely frustrated because she wanted both hands behind her back, and the vibe kept slipping out without a hand to hold it in place. But she’d gotten herself off quite quickly anyway, put the vibe aside to be cleaned in the morning, and drifted off to sleep, thinking that would be the end of it.
Instead, she’d dreamed. Men tied her up, stripped her, teased her. A woman in leather whipped her. Women had never been a part of her waking fantasies. She was blindfolded and fucked, and she didn’t know who was doing it. She woke up several times in a sweat, her pussy
dripping. She knew she didn’t want all those things, but that didn’t stop them from invading her sleep and turning her on. Maybe returning to Bondage Ranch would make the dreams worse. Maybe she wanted more of those dreams. She didn’t know. But once she realized she was going that way, she made up her mind to continue. She wondered if moths had the same impulse just before their wings got singed by the flame, but that was silly. Moths were attracted to light because bats preferred the darkness—they were instinctively avoiding their main predator. This was more like flying straight toward the bat’s mouth.
Maybe Aidan would be there and might be available. But if not, she would ask someone—Alex, most likely—who was safe to play with. Or maybe she would watch.
She didn’t know what she was going to do when she got there. She just didn’t think she could stay away.
In spite of that, she sat in the car for five minutes after pulling into the parking lot before walking toward the door. She wasn’t dressed for Bondage Ranch. The day before, everyone seemed to be wearing latex or leather or something skimpy, especially the women. The men, as usual, were less fashion conscious, but even many of them dressed up in fetish clothes. She was wearing blue jeans and a red sweater. She had a black bra and panties on underneath that might stand out less, but it wasn’t like she was going to walk in and strip off.
She was going to stick out like a sore thumb.
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She knocked on the door, and a man she didn’t know opened it. Dark and as tall as Aidan, he looked down on her with amusement. “Are you lost?” he asked.
“Um, no.” She couldn’t read him. Did he really think that? Did she look that out of place? She wasn’t even sure where one could be going to that one would accidentally end up at Bondage Ranch. It was pretty out of the way. “I’m here for Bon—”
“You don’t seem to be carrying any religious literature, but you sure do look dressed for church.” He squinted at her.
“I’d wear a dress to church,” she snapped. “Where’s Alex? Or Dylan?” She’d much rather deal with Alex, but either would do in a pinch.
“They seem pretty busy.” He chuckled. “If you’re one of those Regency Dance folks, I think that’s next week.”
“Do I look like I’m dressed for a Regency dance?” she asked sarcastically.
“Nope, you look like more the square-dancing type.” He took a step back, to her surprise, and offered a meaty hand. “Name’s Diego.”
She took the hand and shook it, and stepped in before he changed his mind. “I’m here for the Bondage Ranch event.”
“I know. I saw you in the scene with the ice cream last night. It was hot hot hot, but if I were your dom, I’d have let you come. After another hour or so.”
“So you knew who I was all along.” She supposed it was funny, but she was too nervous to appreciate it. And the idea of going through an hour more of what Aidan was doing to her before being allowed to come both turned her on and sounded frustrating at the same time.
“Yep. And Alex and Dylan are in the living room.” He gestured her in with what she thought was a friendly smile. She wasn’t sure. He made her nervous.
Alex’s eyes lit up the moment she noticed Constance, and she hurried across the room to give Constance a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming back, but I’m glad you did.”
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“Surprised?”
“The way you ran out of here like a scared rabbit? A little.” Alex bit her lip as Constance made a face. Did she really look like that? But Alex’s warm smile softened the blow. “A lot of intense things go on your first time. It was your first time, wasn’t it?
It’s not too surprising you needed some time to process.”
“Process,” Constance repeated, thinking of the way she’d slept. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about what it felt like to be tied up and at Aidan’s mercy, until she’d gotten into bed. She’d done everything she could to avoid processing any of it.
But she supposed she had, after a fashion, anyway. What she knew for certain was that it had evoked powerful desires.
Alex chuckled. “Yep.”
“Where’s Aidan?”
Alex shook her head. “No idea, dear. There’s a chance he’s off playing with someone. I hope you realize that. You’re welcome to look, but all I can tell you for sure is that he’s not here.”
Off playing with someone. She wasn’t sure she could deal with that. She knew she didn’t have any sense of ownership over him, and intellectually there was no reason why he shouldn’t hook up with whoever he wished. She’d stupidly even suggested it.
But that didn’t mean she wanted to see it. She was not going to go in search of Aidan.
Besides, if he could play with anyone he wanted, so could she.
Not that there was anyone else she wanted to play with.
“Learn about yourself, Constance, but be careful with your heart. Don’t mistake having an intense experience for having a profound one.” Alex chuckled. “I sound like I’ve been hanging around Master Bruce too much! But honey, you can’t go around here dressed like that. People will stare!”
Yeah, but she’d be more comfortable with them staring at her for wearing too much than walking around in her underwear. “Let ’em,” said Constance.
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“They’ll probably assume you’re a domme too. Male subs can be kind of pushy at times.” Alex grabbed her hand. “Come on. You’re a bit small for most of my clothes, but I think I might have something that fits. I’ve a few dresses I can’t bear to get rid of that I keep in case I lose weight at some point. Which probably isn’t going to happen, as Dylan keeps buying me chocolate. I don’t know how you stay thin around all those lovely sweets of yours.” She led Constance to the stairs, then up. Constance didn’t know if she wanted to go, but it was hard to resist Alex.
“You’re gorgeous. And I’m not exactly thin.”
Alex laughed. “Yes, you exactly are. At least compared to me.”
“I guess I know the sweets will always be there if I want them, and really, just a taste is all I need, and I’m tasting all the time. But if I could have a figure like yours—”
“Sounds like willpower to me. See what happens to that willpower if you find a dom who says he likes curves.”
“Ha! It all goes to my hips. If it went to my boobs, sure.”
Half an hour later, Constance came back down the stairs, barefoot because she wasn’t going to wear sneakers. Alex had loaned her a bright red vinyl dress she wouldn’t have been caught dead in anywhere else. She held it to her thighs as she descended. Alex had tried to convince her to go without panties, but there was no way.
The hem was way too short for that, but at least it covered her ass. She’d have to be very careful to smooth it down when she sat. There were black-stitched seams that ran from the shoulders down to the hem, which seemed to help exaggerate the curve of her breasts. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when Aidan wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs to see.
Alex introduced her around and then let her go, and she stayed and chatted for a while. There was a man with a topless woman on his lap in one of the chairs, and he was being quite free with his hands, but for the most part, people were just talking in
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the living room, which seemed pretty safe. She wouldn’t run into Aidan boinking some other woman if she stayed there, and there were plenty of people to talk to. But the longer she stayed, the more awkward the conversation seemed. She’d never been all that good at parties with lots of strangers, and this felt like another party. She’d worked on her small talk from a professional point of view, but usually people wanted to talk about her pastries. Not having anything she baked to offer made her feel more naked than the skimpy dress did. And she wasn’t getting any closer to understanding what she’d com
e for. Her heart pounded uncomfortably at the thought of heading to the dungeon, but she knew that was where she needed to go. She still wasn’t sure whether she was back for bondage or for Aidan, but she suspected it was both, and the chance for either wouldn’t likely come her way again. It would be silly to have driven here and not take advantage of the opportunity. She excused herself and headed down the hall to the dungeon.
But Aidan wasn’t there, with or without female company. The first thing she did was scan for him, her gaze ignoring flesh and latex, chains and ropes. She quickly satisfied herself that he was absent. The room was much less crowded than it had been the day before. She found a chair to sit on and settled back to watch. She steeled herself to keep her gaze steady and not to turn away at the thought that the things she was seeing were too intimate to be watched by a stranger. People played here knowing they were going to be watched, and if she could figure out what she liked, that would be progress.
Well, only if I can ever have it.
Not too far away from her, a couple was playing on one of the two large X-shaped crosses in the dungeon. She could see them in profile. The woman, who was taller than average, was strapped naked to the cross, which angled forward from vertical, letting her rest her weight on its broad, black-enameled wooden arms. The man was thinner and probably shorter, although it was hard to be sure between the woman being on her toes and the angle she was leaning at. He had a multitailed flogger in his hands, and he
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was using it to land blows on her upper back. Constance didn’t think she liked the idea of being flogged, but for some reason, this scene was safe to watch, possibly partly because the wielder of the flogger was smaller than his target. It seemed less abusive somehow. The sub didn’t seem to be in any pain, either. Her eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful.
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