I brushed my fingertips along the curve of her hip. “Yes, Mistress. You own me. And I will never allow any man to disrespect you.”
We stayed in bed way past noon as my mistress used my body as her fuck toy. She rode my mouth and my cock, bringing her to multiple orgasms.
I sat at the end of the bar in the Velvet Vault, enjoying a screwdriver that my fine-looking slut-boy served me. My impeccable reputation at the club helped Aiden land a job as a bartender a week ago. I just loved to watch him, dressed in faded and ripped jeans that were so tight, it emphasized his delectably taut ass. And you couldn’t help but steer your eyes down to the front of his jeans and see the very generous amount of cock he was packing! I only felt pride, as other women and men admired Aiden’s defined biceps and well-built chest. His submissive flirtation with the customers was sexy, and I couldn’t wait to get him home and thwack his ass with my crop.
Aiden handed a woman her drink and winked before walking back to me. He leaned over the bar, looking down the front of my red patent leather corset dress. It laced up my back so snug that my deep cleavage spilled over the top.
He shifted, rubbing a palm down the front of his jeans. “They’re too fucking tight! I’m in agony right now, because I’m getting a hard-on looking at those gorgeous tits smashed together in that corset.”
I laughed, taunting him. “I like to see my slut-boy suffer sometimes. It keeps you in line.”
He smiled and groaned, walking away to serve another customer. After I finished my screwdriver, Aiden came around the bar to my stool and gave me a chaste kiss goodnight. I leapt off the barstool, and grabbed a handful of his cock and balls, squeezing gently. “After you’re done serving at this bar tonight, you will come home and serve your mistress. Understand, slut-boy?”
“Anytime, anywhere, Mistress.” His voice was a low grumble as he helped me into my wool coat and walked me out to my car.
My heart sank, thinking about Baxter as I drove myself home. I loved him as a dear friend and play partner. He’d been there for me when Jared passed away and kept me safe and protected for so long. I was filled with happiness as I watched Baxter and Aiden come to a mutual understanding. But after Aiden moved in, Baxter’s visits became less and less frequent. Both men were the most important people in my life, and Baxter knew in his heart that Aiden loved me just as much as he did.
Baxter did throw a fit of rage when he heard what happened the night Aiden punched Tyler in the face for the things he said. He was a very protective alpha dom and I didn’t want him to know, but I was shaken up for a few days afterward. He knew me so well and he could see how upset I was.
Telling Baxter that Aiden quit his job the very next day didn’t stop him from walking into the shoe store two days later. Baxter frightened poor little Tyler so much, he literally pissed in his slacks right in front of customers.
I parked my car, locked it, and then hurried up the stairs in my red patent stiletto boots to my front door. My keys jingled in my hand as I slid one into the lock and opened the door. As I pushed the door shut, it banged back against me with such force, I cried out, jumping back. A man dressed all in black with a black mask lunged for me. He backhanded me across the face. I felt the painful blow down my spine as I stumbled back. The man took advantage of my disorientation and shoved me against the wall. He pressed his full weight against my body, shoving his thigh between my legs. He slapped a gloved hand over my mouth and pressed the edge of a blade to my throat.
My heart pounded hard with fear, but I kept my eyes open and locked with his. They gleamed with hate and rage, and his voice was muffled by the black mask. “I know you like it rough, bitch! So, first, I’m going to give it to you rough, and slap you around for a while. Then you’re going to give me all the cash you’ve got hidden in the house.”
His eyes shifted down to my chest and he yanked the front of my corset down. He grunted as his hand left my mouth, latching on to my right breast. He pawed and squeezed it, his moans muffled by the mask.
Then I started to laugh.
He pulled the knife away from my throat. “What the fuck are you laughing at, cunt?!” he shouted and backhanded me across the face again.
My cheek hit the wall and I tasted blood. Then I giggled. “You’ve mistaken me for someone who’s afraid of a little bit of pain!”
The next moment, I aimed for his left eye and drove the tip of my house key at him. But I missed and it lodged into the side of his cheek.
He screamed, grabbing at the key and stumbled back. That’s when I hiked my leg and kicked him square in the balls with my red heeled boots. He hunched over, grabbing his crotch and bellowed in pain.
I swung at him with my fist, landing a blow to his temple, knocking him to the floor. He whimpered as I moved to stand over him, my boots pinning him between my legs. I leaned down and pulled the mask roughly off his face. It was Tyler. He continued to cry, balling himself up in a fetal position.
I stuck my bottom lip out and pouted. “Aww. Poor little piss-pants can’t handle a boot to the balls, huh?”
Four New Orleans police officers showed up at my house ten minutes after I dialed 9-1-1. I sat on the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket as they hauled Tyler off the floor. They dragged him out to a squad car in handcuffs just as Aiden stormed through the front door.
He landed on his knees at my feet. His brows were knotted and his eyes were wet with tears. He reached up, cupping my left cheek.
“He hit you? That fucking piece of shit!” he roared.
“I’m okay, Aiden. I stuck a key in his face and kicked him in the balls. He can dish out the pain, but he can’t take it.”
Aiden smiled then and sat down next me. He pulled me into his strong arms, squeezing me tight, and chuckled. “My mistress is a badass! Always so strong. And so beautiful.”
I was numb with shock. But just then, within the comfort of Aiden’s arms, I let go and sobbed. A police officer waited to ask me questions, as Aiden held me and rocked me on the couch.
The summer nights in New Orleans were always sticky and hot. But thankfully, I was inside with the cool air conditioning, bartending at the Velvet Vault. The management team always kept the temps low in the club. I guess it helped to keep nipples hard and perky. It was Saturday night and the club was packed full of kinksters, the lights lowered. They all came for Fantasy Island Escapade. It was a theme based on the late 1970s TV show, Fantasy Island. People of all different sexual orientations, ages, shapes, and sizes dressed like the character, Mr. Roarke, in white suits and black ties, or black suits and white ties. Some were dressed from barely anything to nothing at all. Clamps in all different sizes and colors were attached to nipples. It was body piercings and tattoos galore!
After many months of bartending at the club, I finally felt that this was the world I belonged in. I was still in training with Mistress Kassandra, and I strived to be the very best submissive she could ever be proud of. We played often, either there or in the basement dungeon, which we called our own little playground. I also wore a butt plug for my mistress at times. She liked to have full control over me, even when I wasn’t by her side. The plug that was up my well-trained ass reminded us both of her dominance over me.
I felt freedom to express my submissive self without shame. I also later discovered that a huge number of both men and women found submissive males sexy as fuck. I knew I still had so much more to learn, and sometimes my heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest with all the happiness I felt for myself and the relationship I had with Kassandra.
I just served drinks to a male dom and his two female subs attached to collars and leashes, when my mistress entered the club, dressed in a black see-through mesh catsuit. On her pretty little feet, she wore the red velvet stilettos I delivered to her that day, almost a year ago. Our play partner and good friend, Baxter, walked alongside her, dressed in a black suit, black shirt, sporting a shimmering purple tie.
I wore barely anything myself, dressed only in a Tarzan loincloth made
with soft suede. So of course, I couldn’t hide the hard-on I was sporting as I, along with everyone else in the club, watched them saunter over to the bar.
As any good submissive does, I rushed around to other side of the bar to present. I dropped down to my knees and leaned down to press the side of my face on the top of Mistress Kassandra’s shoe.
“Mistress, I worship you,” I said quietly.
“Good boy,” she crooned. “Now you may lift your eyes and look up at me.”
I did as she commanded and when I looked up, she was holding out a small box. She opened it to reveal a metallic wrist band.
“I offer you this wrist band, made of pure platinum, to wear and claim ownership of your body and your heart. Will you accept to wear this band and accept me as your mistress?” Her voice was soft as her eyes welled up with tears.
The side of Baxter’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Well, slut-boy? Don’t look at me! Answer your mistress.”
I rose up off my knees and looked into Kassandra’s beautiful brown eyes. “Yes, I do accept this band and will be so proud to wear it as your submissive. And I accept you, Kassandra, as my queen.”
THE END
A huge thank you to my Beta readers – Jeanette George, Courtnay Gray, and JoJo Ellen for all your help in developing and writing my very sexy characters, Kassandra, Aiden, and Baxter. I was in need of a cold shower after writing some of their kinky and hot sex scenes!
Thank you, Elizabeth Knox for this exciting opportunity to write this story as part of the “Dominated by Desire: A BDSM Anthology.”
Thank you Mikki Thomas and Kristin Youngblood, for all your hard work to help promote my writing, PLUS keeping me in line and “bossing” me! Don’t ever stop.
And thanks to all of you in my book writing tribe. That goes to not only the writers, but readers, PAs, bloggers, editors, photographers, designers, and models. You inspire me to live out my passionate dream as a writer and a lover of the written word.
Sin City Fets
Switched
Capitol Corruption Series
Pushed
CKMC
Salvation in Chaos
Deep in Chaos
Coveted by Chaos
Claimed in Chaos
Torque (Novella)
Berzerkers MC
Struck in the Crossfire
Anthologies
Twisted Tales of Mayhem: 2019 MMM Special Edition
Dominated by Desire: A BDSM Anthology
Novella
Neon Summer: A Novella
Crossing the Line
Coming Soon:
“Conquered by CHAOS”
“PUSHED”
“Switched” – Co-written with Elizabeth Knox
Linny grew up in Northern Virginia, right outside Washington DC, self-published her debut novel, “Salvation in Chaos” in January of 2018. Her stories are about scruffy, sexy alpha bikers who belong to a tribe, their club, and the women they fall in love with. They live in a world full of chaos, not unlike reality. But within that chaotic world, they live their lives the best way they can and discover true love.
Get to know Linny by joining her Facebook group, Chaos Coven Clubhouse OR Sign up for her Newsletter OR go check her out on her Website.
If you do like her, (and I really hope you do!) you can follow her anywhere and everywhere.
COUGAR QUEEN: The Velvet Vault Series Page 5
