by L. DuBois
“Because I’m attracted to you.”
Ah ha. They’d circled around. To a topic he found all too interesting. “And why does that matter?”
“Because I care what—”
He heard her teeth click together as her eyes flew open. She’d stopped herself from finishing that sentence, and as she looked up at him, her eyes wide as if shocked by her own near-admission, he knew she was about to close down.
Unless he did something to prevent it.
Daniel shifted, each movement sure and precise, because for the last several minutes he’d been planning how he’d touch her next.
He pivoted, sliding one foot between hers. His leg forced her knees apart. He braced his knee against the front of the bench as he tightened the hand tangled in her hair. He brought his other hand up and curled it loosely around her neck.
Autumn gasped and raised her hands to grip his wrist. But she didn’t try to tug his hand away.
Pinned in place as he stood over her, controlling her like this made Daniel’s dominant side rise. Dark needs slithered through him, whispering of all the delicious things he could do to her.
“Autumn, what is your safe word?”
“Pickle. My slowdown word is onion.”
“I don’t use a stoplight style system.” Some people chose to use the words red, yellow, and green as a safe word system. Yellow meant the sub needed to pause the scene, while “red” functioned as the traditional safe word which stopped the scene all together.
“If something is bothering you, if you need me to stop or slow down, tell me. I will always listen, I promise you that. I want open, honest, non-coded communication.”
She actually relaxed, her hands falling away from his wrist. “So if I say ‘oh no, your dick is just far too big, stop’ you’ll take it literally?”
Daniel let out a startled laugh. He adjusted his hands, so he was cupping her head between his palms, thumbs just in front of her ears, fingers sunk into all that lovely soft hair.
“Oh I most definitely would stop,” he assured her. “I’d stop touching you, playing with you, pleasuring you…”
“That’s diabolical,” she whispered.
“A little sadism in a Dom is a good thing.” And then, just because he knew she’d appreciate the comment, said, “And a little sadism never hurt anyone.”
She let out another peal of laughter.
He leaned down, close enough that he could have kissed her. He didn’t, but he could have.
“Autumn, you mentioned my dick.”
“Yes, yes I did.”
“But we will not be having sex.”
“Of course not. A BDSM scene doesn’t mean sex.”
“Doesn’t always mean sex,” he corrected.
“We just met,” she said in what should have been agreement, but sounded a little unsure. Dare he say, disappointed.
“Yes.” He dropped his hands and straightened. “So why were you thinking about my dick?”
“I like to objectify men like that.” Her response was too quick.
“I think it has something to do with you finding me attractive.”
“Need your ego stroked so bad you keep bringing it up?”
He wanted to push her, but she’d folded her arms across her waist, her shoulders hunched defensively.
Daniel put one finger under her chin, tipping her face up.
“Are you ready?” he asked solemnly.
She relaxed, and he was fairly sure that was due to him backing the conversation away from an uncomfortable topic.
“Yes.”
“Master Daniel,” he corrected. “Or Sir.”
She stiffened, just slightly, then said, “Yes, Master Daniel.”
He moved back, making space for her to stand, then offered her his hand.
Autumn placed her fingers in his, let him pull her to her feet.
Daniel ran his thumb across her palm. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when she opened them they seemed darker and softer than they had been a moment ago.
She was…perfect.
The word came to mind unbidden, followed quickly by a rush of desire so strong that he felt it in his gut. He wanted her. This woman in particular. It wasn’t always like that. He came here knowing he could exorcise his own demon by topping a willing sub. It was a safe outlet for his needs.
And while no two subs were the same, and he always made sure that the scene served both their needs, his desire was usually for the scene, not for a particular sub.
But he wanted her.
Wanted to kiss her.
Sit her on his lap so he could feed her with one hand while the other played with her nipples.
Cuddle her in aftercare, and then walk her to her car when they were done.
Most of all, he wanted to fuck her.
He’d stricken that particular activity from the scene, and now that he’d said it, going back on his word would make him the kind of irresponsible, self-control-less asshole who wasn’t fit to be a Dom.
No fucking.
Damn it.
Chapter 4
This is a scene, not a date.
He is your play partner, not your date.
You can sub for him, you can’t date him.
As mantras went, it was a little repetitive, but functional.
Or maybe the fact that Daniel was now undeniably in his mental top space—the other side of the sub-space coin—was doing more to keep her from feeling defensive than her mantra was.
If this had been a date… well.
Intimate relationships were kept in two completely separate buckets. The dating and falling in love bucket was kept very far away from the D/s bucket. The contents were never allowed to mix.
Usually, it wasn’t a problem, and past heartbreak and trauma was a good motivator for the separation.
For the first time since becoming a member of Las Palmas, Autumn was having trouble.
Daniel was the kind of man she could date and fall in love with. She wanted to plop him into the relationship bucket.
He was also the kind of man she would never allow herself to fall in love with. He belonged firmly in the D/s bucket.
Because he was a Dom.
Because he knew she was a sub.
And once a man knew she was a sexual submissive they wouldn’t respect her. They’d use her desire to submit against her. They wouldn’t love her; they’d either think she was too needy and not worth the extra work. Or think they owned her.
You know that’s not right. You know that’s fear and pain talking. Also, you’re a horrible hypocrite.
Autumn forced her internal monologue to shut up as she and Daniel stepped into one of the club’s elegant inner courtyards.
The Sub Rosa court was elegant and discreet in comparison to the others. The canopy of hybrid desert climbing roses sheltered the outdoor space, and added a romantic feel that could provide a delicious counterpoint to the kinky and perverse activities that took place in the courtyard itself or one of the surrounding playrooms.
A platform in the center provided a stage where scenes could be performed, or subs put on display. The rest of the courtyard had plush outdoor furniture arranged in conversational groupings, or lone chairs or couches surrounded by heavy wine-barrel pots with lattice panels of climbing roses where a couple could have the illusion of privacy.
Daniel led her to a wide, armless chair sheltered on two sides by pots of roses and climbing vines.
The club had started to come alive, people in fetwear walking around with a bemused, unsure air which was unusual and most likely thanks to the game.
Daniel took a seat, draping his suit jacket over the back of the couch. His gaze raked her, and this time it wasn’t just appreciative, but possessive.
It’s not a date. It’s a D/s scene.
The way he was looking at her was most definitely Dom-like rather than date-like. If a date looked at her like that, she would be reaching for her pepper spray and making wide eyes at the
server as a warning that she might need help with an escape plan.
“What are you thinking about?” Daniel asked, surprising her.
“Context,” she answered honestly.
His eyebrows rose in question.
“The way you’re looking at me would be…scary if we were on a date.”
“This isn’t a date.”
Autumn flinched, as if…well not as if he’d hit her, because her reaction to impact play wasn’t to flinch—it was to wiggle and moan. She flinched as if his words had slid straight into the soft, dark core of her fears.
Of course this wasn’t a date. She’d made it complicated because she was attracted to him.
Maybe some stupid part of her still thought she could have it both ways, even though bitter experience had taught her that wasn’t true.
In some alternate universe they met at a bar, had the same chemistry and banter, and that led to a relationship and eventually falling in love.
A relationship where she’d be sexually unfulfilled because she’d never admit to needing to be sexually dominated.
He’d met her at the club. He knew she was a submissive. That should have made it so easy for her to keep from thinking of him as anything but a play partner.
She swallowed back the hot embarrassment that was the most prevalent of the emotions running through her. She stared at one of the pale pink roses on the vine to her left and told herself to pull it together. It was hardly as if she were about to undergo something traumatic. She’d embarrassed herself by using the word ‘date.’ She needed to get her head in the game.
A very attractive, dominant man was going to play with her breasts.
Arousal slid through her and she focused on that. Desire and submissive need could mute other nasty thoughts. Add in D/s, and that desire and need became all-consuming.
“Out of curiosity, how is it that I’m looking at you?” Daniel asked. There was maybe a hint of worry in his voice.
“Like a Dom.”
His lips twitched and he seemed to relax. “I’m not sure if that’s disappointingly predictable, or…”
No, no. Don’t tease me, not in the witty banter way. I need you to be all Dom so I don’t start thinking about dating again.
When she didn’t respond Daniel sat forward, his elbows on his knees.
“We seem to have a problem.” His voice had deepened and had an edge to it.
Her skin prickled and her ass clenched.
“You think I sound like a Dom, but you aren’t sounding particularly submissive.”
Before she could reply, Daniel was on his feet. He stepped into her personal space, one hand gripping her waist, the other tangling in her hair.
“Look at me, Autumn.” He paired the words with using his hold on her hair to force her to look at him.
She could have closed her eyes, but it wouldn’t have been submission, it would have been hiding.
Damn it, his eyes were a beautiful blue-gray up close, with maybe even a little hint of brown around the outer rim.
“Our scene starts when I sit back down. I’m giving you a few more minutes, only because I know this is an unusual set of circumstances for starting a scene.”
“I understand.”
“You called me Master Daniel before. Let’s hear it again.”
“Master Daniel.”
“Do you need me to help you get into your submissive mindset?”
Normally, she didn’t need that, but with him…
“Maybe. I’m sorry, it’s just that I…”
He waited, but when she didn’t say anything else he shook his head. “You’re going to finish that sentence for me, but not right now.”
He released her hair for a moment, reaching back for his jacket. He carelessly tossed it onto the ground, then cupped her head once more, fingers buried in her hair.
“You’re going to kneel for me. You’re going to spread your knees, and if you aren’t wearing any panties, I’ll get my first good look at your pussy.”
“You’re going to hold that position. Kneeling, head down, legs spread, until I give you permission to move. If you disobey, you’ll get a spanking. Not a fun spanking. You won’t be over my lap. I’ll bend you over this chair and it will hurt.”
Autumn blew out a low, slow breath, all thoughts of dating pushed down and buried under his words and touch.
He leaned in, cheek brushing hers as he whispered, “I might decide to spank you either way. But if you’re a good girl, you’ll enjoy the spanking much more.”
He released her, inching back enough that there was space between them.
“If you’re not comfortable submitting to me, there is no shame in that. If you want to walk away, even if it’s just for tonight, this weekend, there is no shame in that, either.”
He let the words hang in the air. It was meant to give her a chance to turn away, but all it did was tighten the tension that gripped her.
The corset, despite having been loosened, felt too tight. She was hyper aware of her nipples inside the corset, and of the wetness between her legs, which had doubtless soaked the fabric of the black satin thong.
The air around them was still and heavy. The warmth from a nearby heat lamp seemed too hot against her arousal-sensitized skin.
Daniel lowered himself to the wide chair, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back. It pulled the fabric of his shirt tight against his arms and pecs.
The scene had begun.
She hung there, unsure. Unsure of what she should do, but also of what she was feeling. He wiped away that doubt and gave her something to focus on with a single command.
“Kneel.”
Chapter 5
The skirt finally gave up when Daniel toed her knees another inch further apart. By her calculation, she’d been kneeling here for hours. In strictly linear time it was probably closer to twenty minutes, but time passed differently in BDSM play. So far, she’d managed to mostly keep her skirt in place by sandwiching the fabric between her heels and ass.
When she obediently spread her knees in response to the nudge from his toe, the stretchy fabric of the bandage-style skirt rolled up, forming a black band of fabric at the bottom of her corset.
She shivered, both because cold air now hit skin that had been covered a moment ago, and because she was that much closer to being naked. Kneeling before him like this had allowed her to sink into her submission.
Autumn wanted to be naked for him.
It was miserable and frustrating and perversely arousing kneeling for him, with only a few layers of fabric between her knees and the sandy soil of the courtyard. Even more frustrating, she had her back to the stage in the center of the courtyard, where a scene was currently taking place. She could hear the thud and slap of impact play, the deep murmur of a Dom talking his sub through a scene, and the sighs and cries of the sub in question. She could hear it all, but couldn’t see anything.
After telling her to kneel, Daniel hadn’t said anything else, instead using all non-verbal commands. When she’d twisted to look at the stage, he’d grasped her chin, turned her to face him, then put a hand on her head and forced it down. When she dug her nails into her thighs, restless and seeking stimulation, he’d reached down and grabbed her wrists, forcing her to flip her hands so they were palm up.
And finally, he’d started nudging her knee apart with the toe of his shoe.
Behind her, a woman moaned, “No. It hurts. Please… Harder.”
Autumn bit the side of her tongue, imagining what was happening to the woman. Maybe a thick plug was being forced into her ass. Or clamps placed on her nipples and slowly tightened.
She wanted that pain. Wanted him to start with her. To touch her and hurt her and help her find the sweet release she needed.
If someone was getting nipple weights or clamps it should be her, damn it.
And yet…being forced to wait didn’t dampen her arousal. Forced to kneel with nothing to look at but his feet and her own spread legs was
exactly the kind of frustration she enjoyed.
This slow, silent, but powerful start to their scene meant that when he reached down and placed a single finger under her chin, tilting her face up, she was soft and willing, letting him raise her face while she kept her eyes submissively lowered.
She sensed his focus and attention as he inspected her face, her body.
“Gorgeous.” His finger slid down the line of her throat, and then kept going.
She caught her breath as he traced the plump mounds of her breasts where they were exposed above the top of her corset.
“Kneel up.”
She raised her butt off her heels, her feet a little tingly because she’d partially lost feeling in them thanks to how she’d been sitting. When she swayed, his hands came out to cup her ribs, offering her an anchor point.
It was done without comment, and showed that he was paying very close attention to her, even if he was, ostensibly, focused on watching the scene behind her. She leaned into his hands for a moment, sighing in pleasure.
His thumbs swept across the front of the corset, and she hated that she couldn’t feel that touch as anything more than a little pressure.
“I’ve allowed you to keep your breasts hidden from me for too long,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“What are you sorry for? I want to hear it.”
“I’m sorry that my breasts are hidden from you.”
“Stand up and take off the corset.”
He kept one hand on her, but offered her the other, palm up, to brace herself on as she stood. She’d kicked off her shoes when she first knelt. The material of his suit jacket was warm and soft under her feet as she found her balance, regretting that his hand dropped away from her as soon as she did.
When she took a breath she smelled the very faint scent of roses, a more wild, green scent than came from hothouse cultivated roses. She also smelled leather conditioner, and the faint trace of a feminine perfume.
“Strip,” Daniel commanded, his voice now hard.
Autumn softened at the command in his words, then reached for the bottom of her corset. Re-lacing a corset every time it had to be put on was madness, so this one, like most corsets, had hidden hook and eye closures running down the front. Getting dressed at the club involved loosening the corset lacings, wrapping it around herself and fastening the front closures, then having another sub tighten it at the back.