Love Me Always

by Peyton Banks

  “Do we need to revisit our lesson?”

  The question was a soft croon. Smooth and easy with a backend hitch. The somewhat stronger emphasis on the last syllable of “lesson.” It was that peak, that minute change that made all the difference.

  She didn’t have to raise her voice. She didn’t have to use fear. Her words simply became more deliberate.

  I squirmed again as the memory from earlier returned. As much as I loved the warming of my flesh under her deft, paddle-wielding hand, making her proud by retaining all she’d taught me was a better reward. “No, Ma’am.”

  “That’s my good girl.”

  The remainder of the drive was silent, and Mistress continued her slight tease. The scrape of her nails up and down my thigh, inching higher with each pass yet so far away from where I craved her touch. I feared the back of my dress would have a wet spot from my increasing arousal.

  It wasn’t until Bex stopped the car did I realize where we were. Back where it all began. The Indigo Club. A place I’d never heard of until my ex-boyfriend—if he could be called that—brought me here. I’d thought it to be a regular nightclub until we’d stepped inside.

  Though, tonight, Mistress was taking me in through the private back entrance.

  I squeezed my hands together. This place left me with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it’d led me to Mistress and I’d spent the last four months learning what a true Dominate/submissive relationship was all about. On the other, the humiliation I’d suffered stung in the back of my mind as fresh as the night it’d happened.

  She placed her hand over mine. The act simple in its affection but enough to sooth my raging mind. “I thought it fitting to celebrate your special evening where we first met. But if you don’t feel you’re ready, we can leave.”

  It registered with me that Bex hadn’t gotten out of the car. She hadn’t opened the door and wasn’t awaiting our departure. Mistress was leaving the choice up to me. I closed my eyes and took a breath. The night she’d stopped my ex’s wanna-be display of dominance and taken me back to her house had been the only act she’d done without my consent.

  When I’d cried, she’d asked if I wanted to be held before doing so. From that night on—after our talks and her offer to train me—what we had was trust. I had to trust her, and in turn, she had to trust me.

  “I would like to go in.” I said the words softly, but with confidence.

  Mistress nodded, and the coolness of the night air entered the car when Bex opened the door.

  “Have a good night,” Bex said. I glanced at her briefly, and the soft sincerity on her face added another layer of calm.

  Mistress held my hand up the steps and I concentrated on not getting the spindly heels caught between the cobblestones. A gentleman dressed in black with a wired earpiece kept his focus on her.

  It wasn’t because I was invisible, as I’d believed during our first outing to a different underground club, but it was a form of respect. For her, and for me. Something she’d ever so patiently explained to me when I’d become bothered by the perceived slight.

  “Good evening, Lady C,” he said as he opened the large elaborately carved wooden door.

  She nodded her greeting in return and led me into the building. This side of the club was much different than the other. Private. Luxurious. Sophisticated. No loud house music playing. No dancers in suspended cages. No strobe lights. And no people randomly having sex while others watched.

  Instead, soft but upbeat music played. The sounds of our heels were lost on the plush carpeting beneath our feet. The lights were dimmed and it was a tad smoky, but the rich burgundy, black, and gold combination gave the place an elevated feel. It was by far the nicest location I’d ever been. And that was saying a lot considering some of the establishments Mistress had exposed me to over the last few months.

  A long bar nearly dominated the back wall, but there was no overcrowding or people shouting for orders. Waitress and waiters walked around with trays of drinks to the various tables. The men were topless, with fitted pants and bowties. The women in red bra tops and black skirts.

  The atmosphere was one of ease. No pressure. And more of the hesitation I’d had melted away.

  I took everything in as we made our way through the expansive room. What stood out to me were the other Doms with their subs. Some sat on at the Dom’s feet. Others on the couches, resting their heads in their Dom’s laps. Other subs freely walked around interacting with each other, dancing, laughing. All seemingly having a good time. It wasn’t lost on me, they each had something I still lacked. Around their necks were the symbol of belonging. The collars were all varied, but to those that knew, the meaning was there.

  I resisted the urge to run my hands along my bare neck.

  Mistress walked us with purpose, nodding her greeting along the way to those who raised glasses in her direction. We stopped at another set of beautifully carved doors. A young woman with blonde hair, dressed in a somewhat revealing waiter’s outfit, smiled at our approach. Her attention, like the gentleman at the door, was only on Mistress.

  “Good evening, Lady C. Everything is ready to your specifications.” The young woman produced an antique-looking key, unlocked the door, and held it open. “Dinner service will begin shortly for you, and your room has been prepared.” She handed Mistress a small black envelope.

  Dinner? A room? This was worlds away from the Indigo Club I remembered. And she’d planned all this. Made arrangements for us tonight. For me tonight.

  We stepped into the room and the sight before me was unreal. A single table sat in the middle of the room. Oversized black, velvet chairs with gold-tufted buttons as on either side. The table followed the same color pattern but in reverse with a gold tablecloth trimmed in black. Champagne was chilling in a silver bucket with ice.

  Large arrangements of flowers adorned the low-lit space. Roses of every color. Daisies. And my favorite—sunflowers. The overhead crystal chandeliers were dimmed, and the flickering candles strategically placed around the room all added to the overall ambience. It was beautiful, and it was all for me.

  I took in a shuddering breath.

  Mistress whipped her head around. Her brows were pulled together in a deep V and a frowned tugged at her full lips. “Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”

  I didn’t trust my voice so I could only shake my head. All of it was too much and I had no idea how to express how much her thoughtfulness meant to me. “Thank you, Mistress.” I said the words, but they were a poor representation for all I wanted to get across.

  Her features softened and a smile replaced the frown. “Tonight, Vanessa, in this room you may call me Candace.”

  I dabbed at the unshed tears in my eyes. Candace. A word I’d not uttered since our talk. The morning after we’d talked. I’d awoken in her house to find her dressed in a black silk robe, sipping coffee and scrolling on her phone. When she’d noticed me, she hadn’t spoken, instead gestured for me to sit while she fixed me breakfast. Even that kind gesture had stood out to me.

  I’d been a stranger. Some poor, pathetic soul she’d had to rescue, and not once did I feel judgment from her.

  “Thank you, Candace.” I waved my free arm around the room. “I…I never expected so much.”

  “Only the best for you, Vanessa.”

  It saddened me that our time was coming to an end. Six months, that was the agreement. Six months, and she’d teach me how to fully blossom as a submissive. To recognize within myself the needs I had when on the search for a long-term Dom.

  As I followed her to the table, I knew I’d already found who I wanted.

  But my word was my word. And being an impressive pupil was the only way I knew how to repay her for everything, so as much as it hurt to think about it all ending, I would stick to that agreement.

  Next to the fine china sat an object I knew all too well. Mistress did love her teases. She lowered her eyes to my sash, and I undid it, allowing the two parts of my dress to fall open
. In the middle of the private dining room, I stood nearly nude. Every curve and dip unashamedly on display for her. I was now proud of my body and no longer tried to hide it.

  “You look stunning.”

  Her sincere admiration let loose a flood of warmth and pride. With the tip of her nail, Mistress lightly scraped my nipple. It hardened instantly. That didn’t stop her from continuing to ever so lightly caress the taut peak.

  Once she was satisfied, she attached the rubber-tipped clip, then proceeded to give the other side the same attention. The pinch of the clamps was that perfect mix of pleasure and pain. My nipples were sensitive, and once she’d discovered that fact, torturing them in the best possible ways became her favorite hobby. In the middle of the silver chain was a circle, to which Mistress attached a longer chain. It was the perfect length to reach across the table so she could hold the other end and tug if she desired.

  She re-tied the dress, slow and methodical, but kept my breasts exposed. Four months ago, the idea that people would come in and see me like this would have freaked me out. I would have been too embarrassed by possible stares and whispers. But with her, my shoulders remained back as I slid into the awaiting black velvet high back chair.

  Mistress carefully laid the chain along the black table cloth between the precisely placed dishes and took her seat. I clenched around the plug again. How was I expected to make it through dinner with clips on my nipples and a plug in my ass?

  As if reading my mind, she pinned me with an intense gaze. “Is it too much?”

  “No, Mis— I mean Candace. It is perfect.”

  Her red lips turned up into the most dazzling smile. “Good.” She picked up the silver bell, and with a delicate flick of her wrist, rang it.

  Moments later, two waiters strolled in, each carrying a dome-covered serving tray. Hers was placed first and then mine. The lids were lifted, and a slight bow was the only acknowledgment from them before they retreated.

  I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Red velvet cake with a side of vanilla ice cream. Dessert first. My guilty indulgence. Mistress, on the other hand, rarely ate sweets, so to see that her plate contained the same nearly brought me to tears again.

  Tonight truly was about me.

  The pull on my nipples made me hiss, and I immediately glanced up. Another one of those and I was liable to come.

  “Your favorite, correct?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “We better dig in before the ice cream melts.”

  I happily devoured the cold treat and rich, decadent cake. Each time I moaned my delight, she pulled on the chain. It became a game, and I pressed my legs together, trying to hold off the building orgasm.

  She rang the bell again. Our plates were collected, then the next course was brought out. However, this time I had two; a large and small placed in front of me, but only the bigger one was uncovered. The mystery of what was under the smaller silver dome ate at me. I may have been twenty-eight and—despite my lackluster history—presents, especially surprises, always brought out my inner child. More so when they were for me, which was a rarity. Over the years, I’d channeled that excitement and joy into doing for others.

  To anyone that didn’t know her, they might think Mistress didn’t see my constant glances toward the mystery dish. However, she was always aware. Nothing slipped by her. And that was rather uncanny at times. She slowly cut into her porterhouse steak and took a bite of the succulent meat.

  I squirmed in my seat. The pinch to my nipples and plug in my ass seemed to make themselves known more and more with each passing minute. Mix that with the anticipation of what was under the lid, and eating was the furthest thing from my mind.

  Mistress dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, then picked up her champagne flute, tapping her nails on the glass. “How are we feeling, Vanessa?”

  I shifted in my seat again. The delightful pinch on my nipples coupled with the now constant reminder of the plug was slowly stealing away my breath and ability to concentrate. I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and tried to think of anything other than the pulsing between my legs.

  “I…I’m okay, Mis— Candace.”

  “Are you?” Her eyes stayed on me as she took a drink.

  The unrushed nature in which she did most things was delightful torture. Even the way she could stare at me as if her deep-brown eyes were seeing into my soul and picking out the most hidden away parts of myself.

  She ran her nails down the chain setting on the table. I held my breath and pressed my legs together, preparing for the tug. Without a word, she shifted her attention over to the small dish and gave a slight nod. My hands shook as I uncovered it. There, on the same fine china we dined off of, sat a large black vibrator.

  The dark silicon coating was covered in tiny bumps and it curved at the tip, no doubt for optimal G-stop stimulation. A smaller arm that looked like wings and had small nodules to massage my clit jutted out from the toy. All moisture seemed to leave my mouth and rush between my legs.

  “If you need to come, well, I suppose I’ll get dinner and a show. You may do so without permission tonight.”

  The smile that spread across her face set my heart aflutter and turned my arousal up another level. Mistress was a beautiful woman. More than her impeccable looks. She was beautiful on the inside as well. Smart, sophisticated, kind, and funny. Though she kept her more playful side under wraps, when it did come out, it only added to her radiance.

  Slowly, Mistress curled the end of the chain around her finger, then went back to eating. Each time she moved her hand I got a small pull. My nipples throbbed and my pussy tingled with pent-up need. I couldn’t concentrate. My food could have been ash for all the flavor I didn’t register. Each tiny movement she made wound that desire higher and higher. My entire body reverberated, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer.

  Blood whirled in my ears. My thighs were coated in a mixture of sweat and arousal. The moment I grabbed the toy, Mistress stood. Walking the short distance from the table over to a chaise I’d somehow missed initially was a feat I didn’t know how I managed.

  “Such a good girl,” she whispered as she unclipped one of my nipples.

  I whimpered my relief as blood flow returned. It was the wonderful tingle ,sort of like the prickling in your hand after it falls asleep. When her mouth covered the first sensitive bud I balled my hands into fists as the urge to touch her became overwhelming. I began shaking when she freed the other side and gave it the same attention. A gentle flicking of her tongue on one while her fingers softly caressed the other. Her affections were the balm to my tender flesh.

  I fumbled with untying my dress, and the coolness of the room hit my heated skin. Mistress stepped back, and as gracefully as I could, I lowered myself onto the bench. She liked to watch me pleasure myself. And pleasing her was always my goal.

  Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the curved arm and propped one heeled foot onto the chaise while the other remained on the floor. I managed to find the button on the bottom of the vibrator and the soft hum came to life in my hands. My nipples still throbbed from the clamps and I pinched one to recreate the feeling.

  With my other hand, I moved the toy over my stomach until I got to my eager pussy. The subtle vibration to my clit made me gasp in a breath. I was so close, but I wanted to hold out as long as I could.

  Again I teased myself, squeezing my breast and pinching my nipple while I ever so lightly ran the vibrator between my legs. I rocked my hips back and forth and licked my lips. Thoughts of my hands roaming Mistress’s body danced through my head. Remembering how sweet she’d tasted as she sat on my face while I was bound to the bed.

  The sounds she’d made when she climaxed as I fucked her with my tongue. All of the memories drove me closer and closer to release. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I inserted the toy with ease. The bumpy sides massaged my walls and the curved tip hit its mark.

  My heart raced and I climbed higher. T
he wings tickled my clit, tripling up on the sensations. With the plug still lodged in my ass and the girth of the toy, the fit was snug and magnified each in and out. My breath turned to pants. The slight vibration, the way the textured surface massaged my walls on each stroke, a low moan rumbled in the back of my throat.

  I opened my eyes and met her gaze. Her lips were parted, and even in the dim light, I could see her pupils were dilated. Her breaths were exaggerated. She ran her fingers along her exposed collarbone and her other arm was wrapped around her waist.

  Mistress being turned on fueled the fire burning within me. I moved the toy in and out of my slickened body faster. Keeping my eyes open was a fight, but I wanted to see her. I needed to watch her watch me.

  The crash came. I arched and cried out at the euphoria. She moistened her lips, and just thinking about how damp her panties might have been made me keep going. I widened my legs, letting the bent one drop open more, and lifted my hips into my thrusts. Sweat beaded on my forehead and strands of hair clung to it. I reached back and gripped the curved arm of the chaise and sank my teeth into my bottom lip as I brought myself to climax a second time.

  My limbs were like jelly, my breathing ragged, my heart raced, but I was sated. I withdrew the toy and let it drop onto the bench while working to regain moisture in my mouth. Once the small tremors subsided and my heart rate calmed, I managed to sit up. Mistress stood before me with a smile on her face and a glass of water in her hands.

  “Magnificent,” she said as she titled my chin up and placed a soft kiss to my lips. “Would you like to finish your meal, or see what else the night has in store?”

  I took a sip of the cool liquid, and it soothed my parched throat. More? Then I remembered the young woman at the door saying something about a room. I hated for the food to go to waste, but my desire to find out what more she’d planned for me won out.

  “I’m ready for what’s next, Mis— Candace.”

  She smiled at my self-correction and held out her hand. I slipped mine into hers and stood. Part of me wanted to close my dress, considering I had no idea where she’d be leading me, but I stood proud and tall. As we passed the table, Mistress stopped to ring the bell once more, then we continued out the other side of the room through a door I hadn’t noticed because it blended in so well.