She carried two plates of cupcakes; Cliff carried one, and Sam and Laera each had a cupcake plate in one hand and a drink in the other. She supposed she’d be serving Dylan and Alex. Ladies first? Or Masters? She had no idea what the rules were. Maybe she’d get a clue from Alex as she approached.
“Looks like we’re on,” said Bruce as she entered. He’d been leaning back, looking out the window. Now he let go of the curtain and let it settle back into place. Constance thought it was a curious thing to say.
“Thank you, Master Bruce,” said Alex with a smile. Constance looked for clues as to what they might be talking about but didn’t see any. But Alex did catch her eye and tilt her head toward Dylan, so she handed him a cupcake and then gave one to Alex.
“Thanks, Connie,” said Dylan.
Constance tried not to make a face. She never had liked being called that.
“How lovely,” said Alex.
She hadn’t tried to duplicate the pink cupcakes she’d made Valerie. But she’d instead played with making the frosting around the edges look like twisted ropes, finished off with a simple square knot. In the middle of some of them was a little flogger, made of sugar; on the others, handcuffs. Alex had gotten one of the handcuffs.
She hadn’t been paying too much attention to what Sam and Laera were up to, but all of a sudden there was movement from that side of the room. Arthur and Bruce got
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up as if one and started walking toward her. Alex got up without asking Dylan for permission and headed for the kitchen or the front door.
“We don’t think it’s appropriate for a sub to be wearing so many clothes, Constance,” said Arthur.
“Nope,” agreed Bruce.
Beyond them, Sam looked annoyed and Laera amused. Just the opposite of the reactions she’d expected.
Bruce circled around her while Arthur watched. Then they both advanced with menacing slowness. Alex hadn’t forgotten after all. And if she ran, she’d be caught—that was the message Bruce was sending by surrounding her. Alex is blocking the door.
Suddenly, she wondered if she really wanted this, and if she really had a choice. Would they honor her safe word, if she gave it? She thought they would, but she wasn’t sure.
There was only one way to find out.
And yet at some level, this was what she’d come for. If Laera or Sam spoke up to object, she’d object with them. If not, and their men were going to help her forget her troubles for a while, she’d let them. She wasn’t going to run.
But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight, either. “Come and get me, boys,”
she said, managing a brave smile and spreading her legs slightly in a fighting stance.
They did. Bruce grabbed her from behind, seizing the fabric of her shirts and pulling the T-shirt out of her jeans where she’d tucked it in. Arthur lifted her feet off the ground.
“I’d kick him if I were you,” said Sue.
She tried to do exactly that, but she lacked leverage and couldn’t connect. Her heart was racing, half in fear, half in excitement. This was crazy. Too much. Too close to real violence. She tried to remember what the safe word was—she’d had it on the tip of her tongue. Her shirts were rising, and Arthur was fumbling with her zipper, awkwardly because it required all his strength to hold her two legs together with one arm.
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“Put her down,” said a male voice from the general direction of the door.
Aidan. Constance twisted to look before her shirt covered her face. Aidan was right there, and Alex was behind him and to the side, with the biggest smirk on her face.
“Are you saying she’s your sub?” asked Bruce. “Because otherwise, you’re out of line, and you know it.”
“My sub,” said Aidan. His sub. “And set her down before I knock you out so hard you won’t be able to quote koans for a month.”
“Ouch,” said Arthur, laughing.
“You too,” Aidan said, his lips curled in a snarl that almost made his face unhandsome. But only almost, because it was for her. His sub. If it was presumptuous of him, she didn’t care. That was what she wanted. And he’d arrived in the nick of time.
What an amazing coincidence.
Or not. Alex’s smirk and Arthur’s laugh told a different story. Laera’s amusement at Bruce jumping in to strip her, while insisting she keep her clothes on before. She’d been set up.
No, Aidan had been set up. If she was his sub, she really ought to tell him.
Maybe someday.
Arthur had set her down by the time Aidan got to her, and Bruce let her go. “They were acting on my orders, you know,” said Alex. “I told her she had to wear something appropriate, and she knew what it meant. And I told her that if she didn’t, I’d have a strong man or two take her clothes off. She knew, and she could certainly have used her safe word. She even wore a pretty blue teddy or corset or something underneath. We got a glimpse just now. She’s been waiting for this. We waited for you for a while, but…”
“Some things don’t require your scheming,” said Aidan sharply. He picked Constance up before she knew what he was doing and carried her into the kitchen.
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She didn’t feel like kicking anymore.
He set her down when they reached the kitchen, but he didn’t leave a lot of space between his body and the refrigerator. He wasn’t pressing her into it, but he couldn’t step any closer without pinning her.
“I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you,” Aidan said. “Well, I had some idea. But I tried to deny it.”
“Why didn’t you call if you were in town? In the Yellow Pages. Under Bakery.
Also Catering.”
“Because my flight touched down three hours ago,” said Aidan. “And I tried on the way here. You didn’t answer.” He pulled a smart phone out of his pocket and showed her the outgoing phone calls. Sure enough, the number of Constance’s Confections was right at the top. She always shut her phone off while she was in the car.
“Well. You’re forgiven, then.” Constance giggled. “If I even get to forgive a big bad dom.”
“We need forgiveness all too often. We’re only human. And being on top doesn’t make us right, even if it does sometimes settle an argument. Now then. I saw the blue lace too, love. And I want to see more. And skin. Reach your hands up, toward the ceiling.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pulled both shirts off her at once.
“Not bad,” he said, eyes widening as he looked at her in her lingerie and jeans.
“You have good taste. You might get to keep that on for a while.”
“Might?”
He grinned.
She shivered. “Yes, Sir.”
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He ripped the button above her zipper open and then pulled it down. Then he took that little step forward she’d been waiting for and pressed her back against the fridge. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing her belly. He’d made a beeline for her as soon as he’d gotten there and hadn’t so much as glanced at anyone else.
Unless Alex greeting him at the door half naked had made him hard. Well, what man wouldn’t respond to that? Maybe she couldn’t take all the credit.
“You’re thinking again,” Aidan said with a smile. “I can see those wheels chugging away. I like brainy women, but think your way through this.” He yanked her jeans down hard to get them over her hips and then pulled them off the rest of the way.
“Matching panties. And stockings. You really didn’t go halfway, did you? But if you ever put a pair of jeans over suspenders and stockings again, I’m going to paddle you until I’m sure you’ll never do it again.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now then, those panties are pretty, but they are in the way.” He hooked the waistband of them, and the oven beeped.
“Um, need to put the tarts in, Sir.”
“I need to put something in a tart, so we’re even.”
Constance laughed and wiggled her ass at him as she loaded the oven up with the little pies. Her panties were damp, and she wondered if he could see that. She sort of hoped he could, even though it was embarrassing. The idea turned her on even more.
“I have the feeling that you’re a very proper girl most of the time, little tart. But right now, you’re a very horny little slut, aren’t you?”
She blushed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Very.” As she was closing the oven door, he slid a finger between her legs from behind, rubbing her pussy through her panties. Yes, he could definitely tell how wet she was. He grabbed her around the waist just as she got the idea of squirming away.
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But that hadn’t been her first instinct. She’d wanted to grind against his finger until she came.
“The subs don’t have their cupcakes yet,” she protested, since he obviously wasn’t letting her go.
“And I haven’t fucked you yet tonight. Which do you think is more important?”
She wasn’t sure she had an answer to that question. The pressure building up in her core was too distracting. She couldn’t think straight. And she was embarrassingly wet. Her clit felt huge, and when his finger rubbed the silky fabric against it, she thought she was about to scream. She bit her lip to hold back.
She felt his hot breath ruffle the little hairs on the back of her neck as he leaned over her. Apparently sure she wasn’t going to move, he let go of her waist and slid his hand up her stomach to cup her breasts. As his warm tongue licked its way to her ear, he teased first one and then the other nipple until they were hard and elongated.
“Sir,” she whispered.
He bumped her ass, which let her know he was rock hard. She wanted that cock inside her, now. She didn’t care who walked in, as long as he would drive himself deep into her pussy and pound her until she screamed.
“Ready to serve cupcakes, my little tart?”
“Sir?” She asked. He couldn’t make her do that now. Everyone would be able to see how turned on she was. The darkness of her wet panties. Her stiff nipples, jutting against the thin, half-transparent lace of her bra. And she didn’t want to stop. “Can I come first?”
“Oh, honey,” he murmured. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come. Just as I’ve been dreaming of coming inside you. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. But you will not come tonight until you know for certain that you are mine.”
“Yours?” What did he mean by that? His for the evening? His girlfriend?
“Mine. All mine. My little tart, and no one else’s.”
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He couldn’t want her that much. They were hot words, but she couldn’t let herself believe them. She was good at making things in the kitchen, but she wasn’t sexy. In fact, cupcakes and tarts were all she felt she was really good at. She’d sure made a mess of the business.
She’d started to turn, hoping to taste his lips, but now she looked away again. She didn’t want him to see the sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t going to think about the business. Why did it have to come up now in her head, right when he told her he wanted her? Not that what he said was exactly the same as I love you, but it was primal and powerful, and she wanted to surrender to it. She closed her eyes tightly and resolved to shut out the outside world.
He turned her to face him. “Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing that’s any of your business,” she said. “Yes, I’m yours.”
She didn’t know whether his expression meant he was angry or amused, but at last he softly said, “Do you have any idea what a contradiction those two statements are? You’ll have to decide which of those you really mean. But for now, you serve cupcakes because you’re definitely not ready to come yet.”
Damn. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. But she wasn’t going to beg him, even though it was tempting. “Fine,” she retorted and turned and took a plate in each hand.
I keep doing that, and I’m going to push him away. But the idea of letting him know how vulnerable she was, either with her business or her heart, scared the hell out of her.
If he knew, he could take advantage of her. And the worst part of it was that was exactly what she wanted because then he’d be in control, and she could give it up.
Maybe it’s myself I need to be scared of.
He followed her as she walked out to living room. She knew he had a great view of her ass in the thong, and she didn’t mind that one bit. What everyone else could see bothered her more, but she didn’t want to show it. She tried her best to walk as if she served cupcakes in lingerie all the time.
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The dominants had all eaten theirs, but Alex’s was sitting on a little table near where Dylan sat.
“He’s a quick finisher, eh?” asked Sue with a grin. It took Constance a moment to realize Sue meant Aidan. Constance wanted to protest, but instead she felt the heat rising in her cheeks and her tongue felt too dry to talk. Did everyone think they were having sex in the kitchen? Well, they almost were.
She had been uncertain who she was going to serve first, but she decided she didn’t want to walk over to Sue yet so she handed the cupcakes to Laera, who was cuddled up with Bruce on the couch, and Sam, who was kneeling and facing her master.
Laera and Sam each smiled and thanked her, and Laera gave her a wink that put her more at ease. But she was steaming over Sue’s comment. Aidan had said nothing in response, nor could he without seeming defensive. And yet it was none of her business if he was a “quick finisher” or not. In fact, the idea of him taking his pleasure from her as fast as he could had its own appeal. He’d shown he could see to her needs first, when he wanted to. What would it be like to really be his and to have him use her like that?
And why did she even want that?
Because I trust him to take care of me too. Because I already know he’s not a selfish lout but a skilled and caring lover.
“Can you wait for your cupcake, Cliff?” she asked.
“Ask my Mistress,” said the muscular sub.
“Sue? Because my dom hasn’t come yet, and I’d really like to get him off.” There.
Take that. Constance couldn’t believe she’d been so forthright, but at least that put the lie to her earlier comment.
Sue chuckled. “Cliff can wait all evening. In fact, I usually make him wait a long, long time.” She grinned evilly. “But Master Dylan won’t let Alex eat until the others subs have been served, and I think Laera and Sam are holding back in solidarity. Of course, they could have helped themselves, but you two sounded busy.” She turned to
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Aidan and said, “I apologize for my earlier comment, Master Aidan. It was uncalled for and none of my business in any case.” She sighed. “I think I spend too much of my time as a ball-busting domme sometimes.”
Aidan nodded. “Apology accepted, Mistress Sue.” He turned to Constance and smiled. “And the offer has been noted, but I decide when I come. And when you come.
Understood?”
Did he have to say that in front of everyone? “Yes, Sir.”
“Get Cliff his cupcake. If the subs don’t get a chance to eat it before the tarts are ready, they’re going to all die of sugar shock having to eat both one right after the other.”
That seemed unlikely. The tarts would need to cool first, anyway, to be served at the perfect level of warmth without risking people burning their tongues on the strawberry-rhubarb filling. But she hurried back to the kitchen. Only then did she realize she’d failed to give Aidan a cupcake. She grabbed two plates and brought him one first. Then she went and handed the other to Cliff.
AIDAN WATCHED CONSTANCE’S shapely ass as she bent over to serve the big male submi
ssive. He noticed Cliff taking a peek down Constance’s cleavage and felt a surge of jealousy, but Sue quickly grabbed Cliff’s chin and turned it away. He’d pay for that indiscretion later, Aidan had no doubt, and enjoy every minute of his punishment.
Sue rarely missed an excuse to give her subs what they wanted. He wondered if any of them realized how much their Mistress was serving them, rather than they her. No wonder Sue was off her game. Maybe if she was who she pretended to be, she’d be happy with her stable of subs, but as it was, she was probably driving herself crazy trying to keep them all satisfied.
That, however, was not his problem. He only wanted one sub: Constance.
He’d been doing a lot of thinking while he’d been flying around. Too much, perhaps. It had cost him valuable sleep. But globe-trotting wasn’t as fun as it used to be.
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Cutting deals wasn’t, either. More and more they seemed the same. And adding a few extra bucks to his bank account mattered less and less. He had enough money to do anything he wanted to. Dying with the most money couldn’t be what life was about.
He’d told himself time and again that he barely knew Constance, that he’d just had a few hours with her really. He’d tried to figure out what the attraction was. Nice, big, rounded ass? There were other women like that in the world. Submissive? Yes, she definitely was, but he’d been with dozens of submissive women. Sharp tongue? He suspected that perversely attracted him too, but still, not exactly unique. Inexperienced?
He’d never thought of that as a big plus, although it did mean that he could train her, perhaps. Ha. He wasn’t even sure Constance was trainable, but it would be fun to try and see where their struggle got them.
He knew he wasn’t in it for the cupcakes, although as he bit into his, he realized his memories of them hadn’t done her justice. But like a cupcake, it wasn’t all about the sugar or the flour or whatever else went into them. Somehow the ingredients, mixed precisely, baked at the right temperature, with the right balance of icing, made perfection.
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