In tenth grade, before my last growth spurt, I got chubby from binge eating, and in the summer when I wanted to lose weight, food was all I could think about, what my meal would be for the week, then each day. Food thoughts consumed me all day long. I’d often yearn for that next snack or meal right after I ate because I’d grown accustomed to larger portions and snacking on whatever. I’d watch the clock and breathe a sigh of relief when I could finally, finally eat again, and I’d savor every bite. I felt like that now, only in a more extreme way. Logan was all I could think about, and my body yearned, cried out for his touch, every moment of the day. I wanted to be pinned to the floor, his hand on my throat, his hot breath in my ear and his knee right between my legs, grinding into my crotch. And then I wanted him to flip me over and spank me hard and fuck me in the hole of his choice.
I don’t know why being used like that excites me so much, but it does. I love the lack of control, the unknowns, the forcefulness, and the rising swell within me to surrender to him. The joy, sexual freedom, and peace I feel in his vicing hold is so visceral and lovely. It makes my whole body crackle and buzz, it floods my heart with music, and it tells me I am home. I belong. I am his. I am better as his. But I really need to stop thinking like that and get him out of my head. I need to be solid and sexy and submissive on my own without Logan. Even though I want him and no one else, I need to be sure I can be a great sub, period. I need some ground. Tonight, I’m determined to rest and breathe and dazzle as a submissive, just because I am a sub, and not someone’s sub.
Anxiety slithered down my neck and spine when Sabrina and I crossed the drawbridge over a moat. We walked through heavy, massive, double arched doors that had pewter handles of a gagged and bound, naked woman, arching her back like a strung bow.
We gave our names to the attendant at the computer in the foyer, but our IDs were oddly not checked for confirmation. Since I was new and a non-member, I had to read and sign off on the club rules, which were basically, don’t get in anyone’s way or interfere in a play area, respect House Doms and Dungeon Masters/Mistresses, don’t touch anyone without consent, confine sexual activities to private rooms (and be responsible and safe while engaging), don’t bring in alcohol, weapons or drugs, don’t open closed doors without permission, and what happens here, stays here. Agreed.
After getting our “s” hand stamps, lowercase likely because we declared ourselves subs not Switches, we walked into the main hub. I couldn’t stop wobbling like Shayna when she came with me to that party.
The extreme levels of kink in this dungeon of blood-red and black made me crave the safety of my boxes with Logan. Even though Sabrina and I were dressed appropriately as emo hookers of kink, I felt so virginal, dizzy and out-of-sorts here. I could’ve brought toys like she had in her little skull and bones backpack, but I didn’t intend on playing in scenes that kinky or probey. I was mostly here to watch. If I actually got up the nerve to get some pink on my cheeks, well, I didn’t need toys for that. A strong hand would get it done.
Though various scents permeated the club, they were aphrodisiacs to the taste buds of my desire. I mostly loved that there were people of all sizes, races and shapes. This place was not grimy like I thought it would be. Everything was luxurious and top-notch, from the ruby velveteen drapes to the dark wood floor with random carpet runners that looked to be from India.
The subtle music of a coddled heartbeat, enhanced by the sultry fingers of saxophone and strings, and the low lighting of sconces and recessed lights, a mix of red, pink and a soft golden white, lent eroticism to the atmosphere.
The literal boot licking by a guy I saw made me sneer in disgust, as did the pet play, where a girl with cat ears was pissing in a litter box, while her ponytail was in the tight fist of a Dom in a designer suit. I bet Logan would love to make me a kitten sometime, forcing me to lap milk out of a bowl as he rubs my stomach and labia with his sock-covered foot. When I visualized us in such a scene, it did seem much hotter to me and I could see the allure of it, but I just don’t think pissing in a box would rock my socks, and I couldn’t see him requesting this regardless. I mean, if we’re still a THIS...I hope so. I just didn’t know how to get back to my wide-open trust of him.
My blood turned cold and my stomach wrenched when I spotted a girl in front of a cage getting viciously punched, slapped and kicked by another female. A crowd stood around doing nothing.
Fire sprouting in my eyes and gut, I stepped forward to help her, but Sabrina restrained me with a jerk on the arm. “Stop! You read the rule. You’ll get chucked out if you interfere.”
“I know, but she’s being brutalized. What the hell! Why isn’t anyone doing anything to stop it? Everyone’s just standing around gawking.”
“She’s okay. It’s what they like to do. It’s a type of edgy impact play.”
“Edgy? I’ll say. What the fuck!” I shook my head.
“See that dark-haired pile of muscles with his arms crossed, eyes, squinted?”
I nodded.
“That’s one of the Dungeon Masters. He’ll make sure things don’t go too far and that subs are respected. You can always find the DMs for the night by the red leather wrist bands with the dragons. You can report play if you think something is too out of hand, and the DM will check it out and make the call. Other pro Doms are also on the lookout for things that look too extreme or non-con. Never interfere yourself.”
“Okay. Thanks for explaining it. Ow. Well, that’s insane. I mean, I like some pain, but that looks like abuse to me.”
“It’s not. Though risky, it’s totally consensual, just like your own kinks. She can safeword at any time. The Domme is using carefully executed punches, slaps and foot strikes, like in martial arts. I wouldn’t want it, but hey, live and let live.”
“I’d go for slaps, but punches and kicks? Mmm yeah, no thanks.”
When she bowled over and screamed, I couldn’t watch anymore. To me, it still looked like some back-alley ambush with the victim unable to defend herself.
Thankfully, Sabrina pulled me by the arm across the club to take in other scenes
Catching sight of a small, scrawny man tied to a post getting his back sliced up with a long whip had me wincing and cringing through the splays of fingers over my eyes. “Fierce. How can he bleed like that on the whip?”
“They’re in a relationship,” Sabrina said. “When I’ve seen them here, they’re either doing this or sissy play where she paddles and humiliates him while he’s in a frilly dress.”
“Oh.” And that was just on the bottom floor, amidst zones of dirty dancing, toy play and people chatting and drinking coffee at intimate tables of no more than six people. Collared subs on leashes stood out the most because there were so many, and I sighed at the beauty in the display of ownership. I wondered if Logan were the collaring type.
As Sabrina led me upstairs, my pulse started to drum in my cunt.
A sculpted dark wood banister and railing went all the way up the wide curved, carpeted stairs and across the width of the club and down a twin staircase on the other side. There looked to be three big-crowd balcony scenes in progress and small hallways and doors with “private” rooms, most of which were sharing sado-masochism with any passersby because of the open doors.
The first balcony scene at the top of the stairs was a bare-bottom spanking in progress, with a humungous bearded Dom in leather sitting on a wooden chair and spanking a woman over his knees.
My face burned. The pleased crowd, cheering on the thrashing of the older lady’s ass by the Adonis, is what made it even more enticing.
He suddenly grabbed her hair, stood and shoved her cheek into the floor so that her red ass presented in full for the whacks of the wooden paddle in his hand.
“Oh my god, so hot,” Sabrina muttered in my ear.
“Tell me about it. Fuck.”
The self-ascribed quiet girl cupped her mouth and shouted with the crowd, “Harder, harder, harder, harder,” in beat with her pumped fist.
Open and panty-free, which she said was her norm, Sabrina stuffed digits under her skirt and fingered herself right then and there. The peppery-sweetness of her arousal, mixed with blackberry lotion, tingled my nose.
She grabbed my arm with her other hand, nuzzling up closer to my ear, while she was still grinding herself to the brink with the other. “Mmm. Forget sting and pink, I like to get a black ass. Mistress C. doesn’t like to inflict that kind of damage herself, but she lets me seek it out. With bruises like that, I end up getting an endorphin high every time I sit down, for days after. That’s Master Michael. He used to be a semi-pro wrestler. God, he’s so strong and delivers the most excruciating pain and color with little effort, it drives me nuts. Check out his hands. They could whack a bowling ball into another state.” She pulled her fingers out of her cunt and sucked them clean. “He gets much more fierce with subs who are horny for his domination, which, hell yeah, I am. I’m ensuring he knows it. More fun for me.”
Master Michael helped the sub up and ushered her to the corner. He was speaking in her ear as he leaned her against his beefy torso and rubbed her bottom too, but that lovely action was almost entirely obscured by his thighs. He stepped back a couple steps and massaged cream into her well-paddled cheeks. Most of the crowd dissipated for other scenes of kink, but some people, like us, stayed to watch her aftercare because it was equally arousing. The contrast from him was delectable.
About five minutes later, after getting the lady some water and slices of fruit, Master Michael came back to the heart backed chair, stood with a hand on the scrolled back and said, “Who’s next?”
Sabrina raised her hand and wiggled her fingers.
“She is!” I shouted with glee. I thrust her forward, and she launched past three people and stumbled his direction and crashed to her knees before him.
She looked back at me with a sly grin of gratitude and dropped her bag on the floor, then bent and kissed his boots. When she straightened her back, he clutched her hair. “I would be most honored, Sir.”
She was such a good subbie for a Dominant that wasn’t even hers. I couldn’t wait to see her get spanked hard and rough like she liked and to see if Master Michael would get busy in her soaked slit. She was so juiced up just for him.
“Can’t get enough, huh?” Master Michael jerked her over his lap by that hot hair grab and lifted her skirt, baring her for all to see.
“No, Sir. You’re an amazing spanker.”
I scratched my itchy neck and licked my lips. I could feel the wide bulge of my eyes and the dampness between my legs.
“Were you touching yourself just now?”
Her only answer was a tremble.
“Well, if you aren’t going to tell me, I’ll just check for myself.” He jerked her arm up and sniffed her fingers. He dropped her hand again and left a hard smack on her ass. His hand was huge and made such a robust sound when it struck her flesh, especially as he delivered it slightly cupped. “You bad, bad girl. You’re about to learn a firm lesson in respect. Spread your legs.”
Ohmygod. My slick hollow jolted.
She slid apart for him, and I gawked with a big, delirious grin when he struck the bottom of her swollen bits and wormed into her prepped hole with two beefy fingers. He jerked upwards toward her asshole, stretching her, and she yowled in excitement. She slicked up his fingers. So hot. Irritatingly, I lost track of the rough thrust and dive because a beefy mitt on my arm spun me around.
“You should get whacked yourself for pushing her, sub.” A dude at least 250 pounds and 6'3" towered over me. Before I could protest, his hand gripped the base of my neck, and he bent me in half and lifted my skirt.
“Ow. Stop! Let me go! What the heck. Get the fuck off me!” I shrieked.
He launched his hand back and hit my cheeks, hard. Ohmygod, Logan would knock his teeth out and kick his balls up his ass if he were here. “You’re nothing but a lowly sub. You need to obey me and take your spanking like a good girl.” He crashed into my ass again and tugged at my underwear.
“No, I don’t! Fuck off, freak. Let me go!” Struggling to no avail, I stomped down on the middle of his foot with the 4" heel of the sexy boots I’ve been dying to wear and twisted his arm. When he bent to grab his sore foot, I seized a fistful of his hair and bashed his head into the wooden railing behind me. Little ole’ me made him scream like a girl.
“Hey, hey! What the hell!” Thor said, storming our direction. He was in black jeans, black boots, and a black mesh shirt, ripped in random spots, over a lavender spandex tee. Even though he was in pale purple and a couple inches shorter than Mittsy, it didn’t make him any less intimidating, especially with his upper bulk bulging against the stretchy fabric and the whip coiled at his side. Great. My first time here, and I was going to heaved for defending myself?
After shaking away his shock, my assailant rubbed his forehead and cursed me out. He viced my arms and I shrieked in pain.
But Thor wasn’t after me. He hacked down on grabber’s arms, breaking his crushing hold on me, and whipped him around. “All right. That’s your last shot, idiot. What’d I say about going after subs without getting an invite first?”
Fuming mad like a bull about to charge, he turned back to tear me apart and kick my ass no doubt, but Thor shifted around and got in his way, palm slammed into his chest.
“Hey, idiot! Settle down!” Thor seized Mittsy by the leather lapels. Most of the snaps on his vest came undone when Thor yanked him forward to get up in his face.
Mittsy stood there bear-chested. Yes, bear. He was a furry without even trying.
“Get the fuck out! Pushing women around does not make you a Dom. If you don’t walk out on your own, right now, I think this girl can handle the job for Steve and toss your ass onto the cement. I’d better not see your troll face in here again. Got it?”
Grabber shook himself free and glared at the god, bouncer, owner or whatever he was. He stormed off and tore down the stairs.
Thor followed his angry strut with his gaze until the guy exited the main floor, then he turned back to me and ran fingers down my arm in concern, provoking a shiver. “Sorry ’bout that. Even with no alcohol to draw, we still get assholes in here from time to time. You okay?”
“Yes. He was about to chuck me over the balcony though, so thanks for the save. God, there are freaks like that who just think they can push strangers around without a verbal exchange?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Not just in here, but within the scene as well, which doesn’t help BDSM’s poor rep any. Respect for titles is expected here, but you don’t have to submit to any Dom or Top here unless you choose to.” He eyed me up and down and hummed as he took in my face and eyes. He bit his lip with a slow slide. “Wow. You sure are a peach, just-ripened and surely sweet and juicy.”
My face flushed but my heart sank. Of all the fruit to pick.
As if he hadn’t just said that or turned me red, he continued, “A lot of bloodsuckers masquerade as Doms so they can overpower and abuse women, and there are also those who are truly interested in practicing, but they’re clueless and going off of misconceptions and uneducated guesses. I try to be accommodating to those on the learning curve, but I’m not taking chances with that piece of shit. That was his third and final shot. Hopefully, your first time at XX isn’t tainted now.”
“No, not really tainted, but I can’t stop shaking.”
“I know, honey. It’s okay. I have that effect on women.” His blue eyes gleamed with devilishness. “You should see my ... other talents.” The dirty tilt of his smile weakened my knees and made my lips twitch. I loved his flash flirtation.
I cleared my throat. “How do you know it’s my first time and that I’m ‘just-ripened’, as you say?”
“Well, not only do you have the wide-eyed antsiness most newbies have, I’ve never seen you before. Trust me, I’d notice a feisty auburn-haired beauty as scrumptious as you.” His hot breath grazing my neck gave me chills and his competing scents of mint and a musk th
at had a base of honey and leather drew my face closer to his skin. They were so comforting, cozy and warm. I wanted to curl up into his neck and suck in his, mmm, yummy aromas. He ogled me from head to toe again with chimeric caresses of fire, and my heartbeat rammed against my ribs in response. He winked and leaned closer to my ear. “Keep it on the down-low please, but brats are kind of my kryptonite. When I have to seduce or wrestle a sub and make her obey me, and she does, but only after she gives me hell first, I’m done for. Total mush. You don’t take crap. I like that. I like the rush of conquest.”
I smirked. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“With those ninja skills and take-no-shit attitude, you’d get killer tips here if you’d be willing to swing Domme? Just sayin’.”
“Oh, no, I’m not job hunting or interested in dominating anybody, Superman, ha, not Thor. I’m just a sub on the prowl, checking things out is all.”
“Funny. You’re not the first one to say I resemble Thor. Chad Matthews, Chris Hemsworth, and I take turns on the posters. I fulfill a lot of Nordic fantasies around here … and cowboy and pirate … oh, and rock star.” He flipped his shoulder-length blond hair in a comical display of over-exaggeration. “It’s my dashing, bad boy looks.”
I laughed. “And bad boy ways no doubt.”
“Fuck yes.” Wicked spells swam in his oceanic eyes. “And check out my tat.” He lifted his sleeve and showed off the viciously barbed rose that coiled around his upper left arm like a snake and looked like it was poking in deep at random and making his skin bleed.
I laughed. “Yeah, a bleeding tat definitely seals the deal.”
“It dazzles plenty around here. I get bitten there more than anywhere else.”
“Aw, your poor cock must be jealous.”
“Uh, you have no idea. If you’re on the prowl, pet, does that mean you’re unclaimed?”
“Oh, no, I am. We’re just … um, thinking about shit. Going from a brand new lifestyle into a giant question mark because of a few unforeseen bumps.”
Red Hot Obsessions: Ten Contemporary Hot Alpha Male Romance Novels Boxed Set Page 236