Just for you, Sir
Doms of Decadence
By Laylah Roberts
Copyright
Laylah Roberts
Just for you, Sir.
© 2014, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
laylahroberts.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
This story contains explicit sex scenes and light BDSM. R18
Editor: Khriste Close
Cover Design by: Erin Dameron-Hill
Chapter One
When had paddling a sub’s ass become a chore?
Derrick struggled to keep his boredom hidden. The sub tied to the spanking bench deserved his full attention. Anything less was an insult.
“How are you doing, Tara?” he asked, putting the paddle aside. Tara was one of the waitresses at Club Decadence. Since moving to Austin, Decadence had become like a second home to Derrick. His old friend, Roarke Landon owned the BDSM club.
“I’m good, Sir,” she murmured, letting out a soft sigh as he ran his hands over her bottom.
He smacked one of his hands down on her butt. “Give me a color, sub,” he said in a low voice.
“Sorry, Sir. Green, Sir.”
Usually, the sight of a sub tied down awaiting his pleasure would have his cock hard and throbbing. But he barely felt a stirring as he rubbed her ass. Moving to the small table that held a number of toys, he picked up a Hitachi wand. The cord was extra-long, easily reaching the bench he had Tara secured to.
Derrick parted her labia and ran the wand over her lips. Tara let out a low cry, her body shuddering. She was slick with need and he knew she was close to the edge.
“Wait for permission to come,” he ordered.
“Oh, oh, please, Sir,” she begged.
“You can do better than that,” he said sternly, holding the large head of the wand over her engorged clit. She shuddered, her whole body writhing. Sweat coated her naked body.
“Please, Sir. Please let me come.”
“Not yet.”
“Ohhhh.”
He actually felt a small spurt of amusement, imagining the names she was calling him in her head. As her breathing grew quicker, her hips thrusting up as far as they could, he knew she was near the end of her endurance.
“Please, Sir. Please, let me come.”
“You may come.”
One, two, three seconds and then she exploded, rocking against the bench, moisture coating the wand. Derrick held the vibrating head against her pussy for a long moment, dragging the orgasm out before pulling the head away. He turned back to find Tara lying limp against the bench.
He pulled back her long hair. “Okay, sub?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.” She opened her eyes to stare up at him dreamily. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
He undid her bonds, wishing he felt more for her than slight affection. Tara would be a perfect sub for him. He could keep his heart out of it, while giving her everything she needed.
But he knew he’d soon grow bored and that wasn’t fair on her.
He helped her sit up, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as he cleaned up the area. Around him the sounds and scents of Decadence started to filter in. Tara kept her eyes lowered respectfully.
“Master Derrick?” Tara queried as he handed her a bottle of water and a small square of chocolate.
“Yes, Tara.”
“Is there something I can do for you? I mean, you gave me such pleasure that I would like to return it.”
He cupped her chin, raising her face. “Your job is to do exactly as I say, that pleases me. Understand?”
She nodded, disappointment filling her eyes and he felt like an asshole. Sighing, he rubbed her shoulders. “Want me to find you another Dom?”
Tara shook her head. “No, thank you, Sir. Its busy tonight, I should go help Tilly.”
He frowned slightly at the fatigue in her voice. She looked a little too pale for him.
“I thought you were finished for the night.” All the wait staff at Decadence were submissives. They could play after their shift was over or on their night off.
“I am, Sir. But Tilly could use some help.”
“First, I want you to rest,” he told her. “Come, I’ll find a free sofa and you can have a lie down.”
“I don’t need to rest, I have things to do,” she countered stubbornly.
He grabbed her chin again, raising her face as he stared down at her. “That wasn’t a request, sub; you will immediately get off that bench and follow me.”
Swallowing heavily, she dropped her gaze immediately. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
That was better.
Derrick turned away, not looking back. When he found a free sofa in a quiet area of the club, he made her lie down then he spread the blanket over her.
“I’m going to get you a drink,” he told her, something with sugar. “Do not move.”
He strode over to the nearby bar area where Alex and Dylan stood chatting. Dylan, who was an ex-marine and built like a tank, ran the club. Alex, a soft-spoken man with a backbone of steel, looked after the staff.
The bartender, James, was pouring a drink for a Domme at the other end of the bar.
“Everything okay?” Alex said. He was the ideal Dom to take care of the subs who worked in the club, he had endless patience, but he knew when he had to push.
“Yeah, Tara just looks a bit pale for my liking. She wanted to come back to work. I want her to rest for a bit.”
Alex frowned. “I’ll take her some orange juice and check if she’s okay.”
Dylan nodded, his gaze caught on Tilly, a pleasantly curvy, shy sub, who was currently cleaning tables; her shoulders slumped and head down.
Alex sighed as he picked up the glass of juice. “You’ll take care of whatever is going on with Tilly?” he asked. Dylan nodded.
As Alex passed Tilly, he stopped and bent his head to quickly speak to her. Tilly glanced over at the bar then nodded and walked over to them.
“Master Alex said you wanted to speak to me, Sir?” she asked, standing in front of Dylan, her gaze on the ground.
Dylan was quiet for a long moment. Tilly shifted her weight from one foot to another then stopped abruptly, as if realizing what she was doing.
“Tilly, tell me what’s wrong,” Dylan demanded.
“Nothing is wrong, Sir.”
Derrick let a smile slip. The little sub was not a good liar. Every inch of her body screamed that something was upsetting her.
He settled back on a barstool to watch. The bartender handed him a whiskey. Although he never drank before a scene he often enjoyed one after.
“Tilly,” Dylan warned. “Do you want to change your answer?”
Tilly shook her head, her curls bouncing around her head cheerfully.
“Look at me,” he told her.
She raised her head instantly and Derrick immediately felt concerned at the sadness present on the little sub’s face. Women brought out his protective instincts, subs even more so.
“Last chance, sugar.”
Derrick raised a brow. He’d never known Dylan to give a sub more than one chance. Then he looked down into Tilly’s eyes and saw the misery there and he knew why Dylan was giving the little sub another chance to speak out.
<
br /> She shook her head and Dylan’s gaze hardened.
“Take off your top,” he ordered.
She was wearing a loose, sleeveless top and short skirt. Tilly gaped at Dylan, her jaw dropping open. From what Derrick knew, this particular sub wasn’t comfortable being naked.
But she pulled off her top without a word, revealing a lacy, red bra. Far racier lingerie than Derrick had assumed would be underneath her rather modest clothing.
“And the bra, Tilly.”
She hesitated for a long moment.
“That’s five, Tilly,” Dylan said. “When I give you an order, I expect instant obedience.”
She raised her gaze, her eyes flashing with defiance, but she quickly lowered them, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts.
Reaching out, Dylan cupped both breasts in his hands. Tilly jumped slightly and Derrick could see the pulse jumping in her neck. But she stood still as Dylan ran his thumbs over her nipples.
“What do you think of these breasts, Master Derrick?” he asked as Tilly’s breath quickened, the nubs stiffening and deepening in color.
“Beautiful,” Derrick replied, biting back his smile as the little sub glanced up at him with surprised eyes. The girl needed a boost of confidence.
“Aren’t they? Full, round and responsive. I think they’re missing something, though.”
Tilly’s worried gaze turned back to Dylan.
“James, hand me my bag,” Dylan ordered without taking his gaze from the anxious sub before him.
The quiet bartender handed Dylan his bag of toys. Dylan reached in and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps that were attached with a long, silver chain.
“Give me a little help?” Dylan asked Derrick.
“Certainly,” Derrick replied, rising from his seat to step behind the sub. He brushed his chest against her back. She shivered.
“Easy, love,” he murmured in her ear as he cupped her full breasts and held them up for Dylan.
Slowly, Dylan placed one clamp over her left nipple then tightened it.
Tilly took in a sharp breath then let it out slowly.
“Okay, Tilly?” he asked.
“Y-yes, Sir.”
Dylan placed the other clamp on her right nipple then nodded at Derrick.
Derrick cupped her shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze before moving back to sit at the bar. Dylan tugged on the chain linking the two clamps and Tilly sucked in her breath, a mix of pleasure and pain filling her face.
There was a small weight attached to the chain. Dylan let the chain go, and the weight pulled at her nipples.
Dylan pulled over a bar stool. “Lean over it.”
Tilly nibbled at her lower lip as she lay over the stool. Dylan grabbed her around the waist, lifting her so her legs were off the ground, her breasts dangling down, and the chain pulling at her nipples.
“Five then. You’ll count and ask me for another.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He lifted up her skirt, revealing lacy, red underwear. Dylan pulled them down below her tense butt cheeks.
Dylan rubbed his hand over bottom. “Relax,” he told her.
Tilly snorted softly. Derrick had to bite back a smile. Glancing over at Dylan, he saw his friend’s amusement. But none of it bled into Dylan’s voice.
“Something you want to say, sub?” he asked sternly.
“No, Sir,” she replied, taking a deep breath and releasing it.
Dylan smacked his hand down on one cheek with a loud crack.
“Ow. One, Sir. May I please have another?” she asked.
Her other butt cheek was given the same treatment. These weren’t light little love taps.
“Two, Sir. May I have another please?”
Dylan continued on. By the fifth smack, Tilly was just beginning to relax. Dylan helped her off the bar stool, holding her around the waist until she was steady.
With a gasp, she reached around and quickly pulled her panties up before yanking her skirt down.
Dylan leaned back and grabbed hold on an empty bar tray, handing it to her.
“Back to work, sub,” he said gruffly.
Tilly’s eyes widened, filled with shocked dismay. “I can’t walk around like this!”
Dylan narrowed his gaze. “Excuse me?” he growled.
Immediately, her gaze dropped, her submissive side kicking in. Derrick was surprised by her show of spunk; he’d have said she was too timid to speak out.
“I can’t walk around like this, Sir,” she muttered.
“You can, and you will. Any more protest and I’ll decorate more than your nipples, understand?”
Her head shot up and she bit on her lip as she stared at him.
“What do you say?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Go on then, you’re already behind in your work.”
With a sigh, shoulders slumped, she turned away.
Dylan muttered something under his breath. “Tilly,” he said.
She stopped, turning. Dylan stepped up beside her.
“Shoulders back, head up. You’re beautiful, sugar. You just need to believe it.” He tapped her chin. “When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be here, understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Seriously lacking in self-confidence, isn’t she?” Derrick asked after she’d walked off.
Dylan frowned, nodding. “We’re trying to work on that, but it’s not easy to break through those defenses she’s erected around herself.”
Derrick nodded.
“Something going on with you, man?” Dylan asked.
“What makes you ask that?”
“You seem kind of disinterested, detached.”
He was surprised that Dylan had noticed, he thought he’d hidden his feelings better.
“How is Roarke? Haven’t seen him in a while,” he said, trying to change the subject.
Dylan threw him a knowing look, but answered anyway. “He’s busy settling Ava and Sam into their new place. They bought this huge place just out of the city. I’ve never seen them happier. It’s sickening,” he sneered.
Derrick smiled sadly. “That sort of happiness can be a blessing and a curse.”
Dylan looked at him with surprise. “You ever been married?”
“A long time ago. Back home in the UK.” He put his glass down, fighting back the old memories. Nothing good would come from them. Although he still lived with the guilt and regrets, it had been nearly twenty years since Cara had been murdered. He’d learned that punishing himself served no purpose. All he could do was make sure he never made the same mistakes again.
“How’s Holly?” Dylan asked, thankfully changing the subject.
Derrick smiled. His sister-in-law was the only family he truly had and he adored her.
“She’s great. She and Brax bought a new place a bit closer to Austin. Brax didn’t like her having such a long commute. She drives in three days a week now.” Holly had protested the move, but although Brax would indulge her in most areas, her health and safety were things he took very seriously. Brax wasn’t just her husband, but her Dom as well. Her well-being was his main priority.
Derrick was grateful that Holly had found a man who would take care of her and who made her happy.
“Alex looks worried,” Dylan commented and Derrick turned his head to see the other man approach, a frown on his face.
“Tara needs to go home,” Alex said. “She’s exhausted, but she’s refusing to admit it.”
“I can cover here while you take her home,” Dylan offered.
Alex shook his head. “She’s refusing to leave with me. Stubborn little brat.”
Derrick stood. “I’ll take her.”
Alex hesitated, looking at him seriously. “You’ll take care of her? She might need someone to stay with her for a bit.”
Derrick raised his brows.
“Yes, mother, I’ll tuck her in and sing her a lullaby.” He clapped the other man on th
e shoulder. “Relax, Alex. I’ll look after her. I promise.”
***
“Thanks for bringing me home, Sir. I’m fine now.”
Derrick wasn’t so sure. Tara was huddled into a corner of her living room couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she sipped on the hot chocolate he’d made her.
There were dark circles under her eyes, standing out in contrast to her milky-white skin. He looked around the apartment, not liking what he saw. Although she had tried to brighten the place up with some colorful cushions and cheap artwork, there was no disguising how rundown it was.
The walls had peeling wallpaper that looked like it was right out of the ‘70s, there was a big hole in the wall behind her head and the carpet had seen better days.
“I don’t like leaving you here. It’s not safe.”
“It’s fine, Sir. I’ve lived here for two years now.”
The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t a high crime area, either.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “But tomorrow, I’m having a friend drop in to put better locks on this door and a security system.”
“I can’t afford that.”
“I can. And before you protest, either you take my offer or I’m going to call Master Alex right now and have him come over. What’s it to be?”
Her eyes grew wide. “The security system,” she said in a quiet voice.
Yeah, that’s what he’d figured.
“Okay, love. I’m going now. I want to hear you lock up behind me.”
Derrick waited until he heard the lock engage before heading down the stairs, and outside into the warm Austin evening.
Fatigue pulled at him as he climbed into his car. He usually had his driver take him to the club, but Robert was away visiting family, so he was on his own.
Pushing past the fatigue, he pulled away from the curb and headed home.
Chapter Two
The loud screeching of tires woke Jacey from a light sleep. Heart beating frantically, her skin clammy, she sat up. She glanced around frantically, but she couldn’t see much from where the doorway she’d been sleeping in. Jumping up, she watched a small car spin out of control across the street.
Just For You, Sir (Doms of Decadence) Page 1
