It had actually taken me a significant amount of time to talk myself into returning at all. I’d thought about blowing it off, but I knew I couldn’t move on with my life until I had some closure.
Part of me had expected Edge and Cav to avoid me. Despite the apologies, I didn’t know where I stood with either of them, but I knew I wasn’t willing to walk away.
I also didn’t know what I was willing to do.
At this point, I was confused about all of it, the Domination, the submission. Roles, rules. They were all lacking, in my opinion, despite the fact Edge was so insistent about having the structure. Edge had once mentioned that he was looking for a full-time submissive, but I hadn’t seen any proof in the way of actions. Truth was, the man was all over the place. Was that how this really worked?
“In here, cupcake.”
When Cav motioned toward a theme room, I stepped inside without argument.
There was a large desk at the front of the room, a chalkboard on the wall behind it, a whiteboard off to the right, along with a few decorations that mimicked a standard classroom setting. Three smaller desks with chairs faced the teacher’s desk. There was a line of lockers on one wall, all closed. The other wall had four paneless, wooden window frames mounted to it, blinds hanging at different levels, while a mural of what appeared to be outside peeked through. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make this room look the part.
The lights overhead were bright, the floor tiled with big squares of linoleum. A clock on the wall ticked loudly and there was a faint scent of chalk in the air.
“Have a seat, Miss Lautner.”
When Cav motioned toward the row of desks, I moved toward the first one, pulled out the chair, and took a seat. This was nothing like the classrooms I spent my time in at the university. It was more along the lines of a high school.
The thought made me smile. Whoever had done this likely had a penchant for porn.
“Before we begin…” a deep voice sounded from behind me.
I glanced over to see Edge stepping into the room, carrying a small bag.
“Please go to the locker room and change,” he said, passing over the bag.
Unsure what to say, I took the bag and headed for the locker room.
When I retrieved the items inside, I grinned. Maybe Edge was the one who’d designed that room, because the schoolgirl outfit made it all come together. A tiny red, white, and black plaid skirt was barely long enough to cover my ass. The black T-shirt was a little less revealing, but only because it covered my breasts but ended just below. A pair of white thigh-highs were folded neatly on top of a pair of Mary Janes. In my size. Imagine that.
Since I hadn’t been provided with an outfit for tonight, I’d had to think on the fly. Luckily, Everly and I were roughly the same size, with the exception of me being about six inches taller. She’d had an extra pair of jean shorts, although they were more like a pair of denim panties than shorts. Maeve had offered a black, spaghetti-strap tank that had various cutouts in it. A more appropriate option than the jeans and sweater I’d worn to the club, I’d borrowed their clothes.
The schoolgirl outfit was exactly as I’d seen depicted in porn. The only thing missing was my hair in pigtails. Wanting to maintain a little dignity, I avoided pulling it up, returning to the classroom as quickly as I could. I walked in as Edge and Cav seemed to be having a heated discussion, their voices low, clipped.
“Have a seat, Miss Lautner,” Cav commanded, not looking toward me.
I returned to the desk I’d sat in a few minutes ago. Placing my hands on top of it, I folded them primly, keeping my knees together as I regarded the “teachers” at the front.
Cav and Edge seemed to come to some sort of nonverbal decision before Edge turned away from him. He paced across the room, back. He repeated the action a couple of times before facing me.
“Miss Lautner,” he prompted. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on what you’ve experienced so far in regard to BDSM.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand.”
He considered it for a moment, then elaborated. “Comparing what you’ve experienced here at the club and with us with what you’ve learned on your own, what’re your thoughts?”
Maintaining my prim posture, I pulled my thoughts together. “Based on the books I’ve read … well, to be honest, they depict a lifestyle vastly different than what I’ve seen so far.”
“How so?” he asked.
“In the novels, it’s always about structure, obedience, punishment.” I glanced between both men. “Aside from the way you’ve addressed the class during training, I have yet to experience anything of the sort.”
“So no structure, either?”
I glanced between them. “No.”
“What about outside of the training sessions?”
I realized he was getting into the role, driving toward something. Figuring I might as well play along, I twirled my hair around my finger, shifted as though I didn’t care to be there.
“I don’t know. I mean, yeah, I’ve received a few commands here and there. But those have been kinda … you know … like a tease.”
I could see the recognition on his face. He understood I’d taken my own stance, developed my own character.
“How so?”
“Well, for one, a little domination and submission would be cool. And sex.” I smiled shyly. “I mean, where’s the actual full-time domination? How does that even work? Aren’t you supposed to spank my ass when I’ve been bad?”
Yes. I was taunting him.
His eyes blazed, but I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or lust.
When he didn’t say anything, I continued, figuring now was my chance to open a line of communication between us. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, Professor? Teach me?”
“Is that what you want?”
I offered a half shrug, slipping over the line from reality to fantasy, trying to engage him. “Maybe. But I think I’ll need a teacher who knows how to handle me.”
“And the Doms you’ve interacted with don’t seem to know how to do that?”
I could tell he’d caught on to the fact that I’d identified my power play in this role.
“Ha.” I leaned forward, twirled my hair. “Not a chance.”
His body stiffened, and for a second, I thought I’d overstepped.
Before Edge could ask another question, Cav stepped forward. He was holding a crop in his hand, gently slapping the long stick against the palm of his hand as he walked across the room.
“Miss Lautner, do you think perhaps you have a preconceived notion of what a Dominant looks like?”
“Perhaps,” I admitted.
He stopped and faced me. “Describe him for me.”
“Hot. Sexy. Demanding,” I crooned. “Always in control. A stern look on his face. Never doubts himself, takes what he wants.”
“Ah.” Cav nodded, resumed his pacing, the slapping of the crop against his hand. “So, that’s his job, right? Being a Dom. Nothing else going on in his life.”
“I didn’t say that.” Although, now that he said it, I could see where he was going with it. In the romance novels I’d read, it was generally about the act of Domination. A few authors were good about adding a real-life aspect, but some weren’t.
“But you did,” Edge said firmly.
“Do you think a Dominant makes his own coffee?” Cav asked.
My tone was flippant when I said, “Why would he?”
“If he doesn’t, who makes it for him?”
“His submissive.”
“You mean servant, right?”
“No.”
“That’s what you said,” Cav countered.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Do you think a Dominant spends all his time touring his dungeon?” Edge questioned. “Waiting for his submissive to kneel, bend over, put her mouth on his dick?”
Although crude, the image my brain came up with had a spark igniting in
my womb.
“That would be cool,” I teased. “But no.”
Cav turned to Edge. “Let’s find out where Ian and Isaac are.”
Edge nodded.
“And Chaos and Nash. We’ll let her see both ends of the spectrum.”
Edge walked to the door, slipped out of the room for a moment.
“We’re gonna let you observe,” Cav explained. “I think it’s important that you see what D/s looks like here.”
I was confused as to where this was headed, but curious all the same.
When Edge returned, he nodded his chin toward the door. Cav walked over to me, held out his hand. I slipped mine in it, grateful that he was touching me. I needed it after the weekend from hell. I followed Edge from the room, Cav beside me.
“Cambria,” Edge said to his assistant. “Ensure no one goes into that room. We’ll be back to use it in about an hour.”
“Yes, Master Edge.”
“This way,” Edge ordered me.
Being the dutiful submissive that I was, I followed my “teachers.”
Ready and willing for my first … real lesson?
ISAAC STOKES
ALTHOUGH I WAS MORE COMFORTABLE WITH RIGID routines and few disruptions, I had to admit, I was intrigued when Edge requested our assistance this evening. He’d prefaced by saying it was a spur-of-the-moment request, but he’d only had to outline his intention briefly for me and my twin to fall in line.
So, here we were, role-playing in what was likely the most boring theme room in the entire building. Since I had a living room at my own house, I wasn’t prone to setting up scenes in rooms such as this. However, Edge was trying to prove a point; therefore I would endure.
The good news was, the room was elegant and comfortable. That was one thing I truly enjoyed about this club. Trent Ramsey spared no expense for comfort and decor.
As I sat in the butter-soft leather chair that someone thought would be a good addition to a living room, my leg crossed over my ankle, I skimmed the pages of a bondage equipment magazine. Clearly, they were lacking a decent selection of reading material here.
The door across the room opened and the little sprite we’d been assigned to stepped inside and fluttered across the room. If I didn’t believe in the laws of gravity, I would’ve been certain she had skimmed the ground.
I couldn’t deny I was quite captivated by the sweet Everly Hughes, with her small, delicate bone structure and big brown eyes. Her light brown hair, highlighted with auburn accents, hung long and loose to the small of her back, swaying like fine silk when she moved. She wasn’t stick thin like some submissives and I appreciated that. Healthy was far more appealing to me than defined abs on my woman.
I ensured she didn’t see me watching her, pretending to be enraptured by the puppy cage depicted on the page. Since I had no need for a cage of any sort, it wasn’t easy. However, I did have the need for a willing and eager submissive. Not a part-time sexual submissive who was into kinky sex.
No, I wanted a full-time, snap-my-fingers-and-come submissive. Which I got the feeling Miss Hughes was. Based on the brief discussion we’d had, she was exactly what I would’ve been looking for, had I been hoping to walk away from this class with a submissive of my own. Which I wasn’t.
I left her to stand there for several minutes, purposely making her wait. Any submissive who’d ever engaged with me knew that patience was a virtue as far as I was concerned. Although it seemed an antiquated notion to some, I was seeking a submissive who was ready and willing to cater to my every whim. And I didn’t give a shit how it looked from the outside either.
When I set the magazine down on the glossy wooden table beside me, I put both feet on the floor, then tapped one finger on my knee.
As though she was in tune with my every thought, the little sprite all but danced toward me before gently lowering herself into my lap, curling up in my arms. I tried not to notice how perfectly she fit against me. It wouldn’t matter after tonight. For the next few weeks, Miss Hughes would be moving from one set of Dominants to the next, getting to know each of them intimately. She would not belong to Ian and me, so it made no sense to get too comfortable.
She allowed me to hold her, to run my hand along the inside of her thigh, teasing her without ever getting too close to the prize. And through it all, she didn’t say anything. A soft sigh here, a sweet mewl there, that was all I heard from her.
“Did you finish the dishes?” I prompted, keeping to my character.
“Yes, Sir,” she said sweetly.
“Where’s Ian?”
There was a smile in her voice when she said, “He said he had a surprise for me. Told me to come into the living room and wait.”
“I take that to mean you’ve been a good girl?”
“Yes, Sir. Very good.”
I had to admit, I liked this one. She seemed to know exactly which direction I was headed although she hadn’t known me or Ian before this training session.
On his cue, Ian walked into the room carrying what we referred to as a saddle. It was a small sex machine, roughly thirteen inches long and twelve inches wide. It stood approximately eight inches tall. It looked like half of a barrel laid on its side with a padded leather cushion across the curved side.
“Do you think you’ve been good enough for this?” I asked.
Everly lifted her head, peered down at the machine Ian set on the floor and was now plugging into the wall. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was a shiver of excitement that coursed through her.
“Yes, Sir.”
I shifted her off my lap without a command and she went obediently.
“Present,” I commanded when my brother took a seat on the plastic-covered sofa.
Pretty as a fairy, Everly moved a few steps away, ensured she was facing both of us as she gracefully slipped off the silk tank she wore, revealing her small, pert breasts with their dusky pink nipples. The little skirt followed, sliding down her smooth legs, revealing her hairless mound.
Once she was naked, she lowered herself to the floor, her movements fluid, elegant. As though she was dancing. She uncurled her petite body until she was flat on her back, her legs spreading wide, toes pointed, her pussy on display for our viewing pleasure. Her arms stretched out above her head, hands resting elegantly on the floor as she thrust her chest upward. I admired the softy, curvy lines of her body.
“Very nice,” Ian noted. He was relaxed on the sofa, one arm stretched across the back, his attention fully focused on her as though he was watching the evening news. “Now ass position.”
In a graceful flow of limbs, Everly curled up, rolled over onto her hands and knees, her delectable ass facing us at all times. Her knees went wide, chest lowering to the floor, her tiny rosebud on full display, her pussy lips flowering open.
There was no need to deny I was turned on by her. Every lean inch of her body was soft and smooth, begging for my hands, my tongue, my cock. But I was nothing if not controlled, so I remained where I was.
“What did you have in store for her?” I prompted Ian.
“Since she’s been a good girl, I thought I’d let her perform for us.”
That was an intriguing idea.
Ian smirked, then got to his feet. He moved over to Everly, standing at her side before leaning over and sliding his fingers along her slit. “She’s wet already.”
She moaned softly as he teased her, fondling her clit, dipping a single finger inside her.
I didn’t need to ask his thoughts on this particular submissive. Since we were kids, we’d had a connection. Some called it a twin bond. Whatever it was, I was in tune with my brother on nearly every level. Didn’t matter the proximity, I always knew when something happened to him. Happy, sad, angry. His emotions coursed through me as though we were one.
And while there were many people who wouldn’t understand our unconventional needs, my brother and I had never made excuses for them. We were looking for submissives of our own. Yes, one for each of us. Submissives
we would share. Which meant, we were looking for two we would each connect with and who would connect with one another. Like I said, unconventional. But necessary, all the same.
“Wait pose, princess,” Ian instructed as he stood tall and returned to the sofa.
Again, Everly easily repositioned so that she was on her knees and her toes, hands clasped behind her back, her eyes on Ian as she awaited her next command.
“Did you enjoy that, little fairy?” I asked, realizing my pet name for her had slipped out.
If she’d been surprised by it, she didn’t show it. “Yes, Sir, I did. Very much.” Her eyes locked on Ian’s face. “Thank you, Master Ian.”
“You’re very welcome, princess.” He nodded toward the machine as he held out the bottle of lubricant. “Prepare the toy.”
“May I stand, Master Ian? Or shall I remain on my knees?”
“Knees,” he said, his eyes glittering as he cut them to me.
Yeah, I knew how much he liked this one. Despite the large pool of options, it was rare to find a submissive who was this eager to please her Masters.
She took the bottle of lubricant Ian held out, thanked him once more before she slowly, seductively lubed the fake dildo. When she passed the bottle back, Ian took the liberty to wipe her hands clean. Her nipples puckered sweetly as he touched her.
“Mount the toy, little fairy,” I instructed when the moment had passed.
“Yes, Master Isaac.”
As gracefully as she’d done everything else, Everly positioned herself over the rather large dildo before sliding herself onto it. She didn’t mask her expressions, the pure pleasure of the action clear on her face.
Once she was seated, Ian produced a remote. Again, he appeared relaxed as he pressed a few buttons.
“I expect to hear your pleasure,” I told her. “And you are not allowed to come until I give you permission. If you do, you will be punished.”
“Yes, Master Isaac.”
For the next few minutes, Ian tormented her with the vibrating toy while we both commanded her movements. She was lifting and lowering herself on the dildo, her muscles flexing, her porcelain skin dotted with perspiration.
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