“And now?”
I finally look up at him. His features are soft, understanding. It compels me to keep talking. “Now I’m trying to figure out which side of the coin I need to be on.”
“In other words, you’re starting to see what many of us have seen all along.”
“What’s that exactly?”
He stands and the chair scrapes along the floor. My eyes follow his as I wait for an answer. “When you figure it out, let me know.” He steps away from the table toward the door. “Sometimes the path we think we want isn’t the path we need. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gives me a wide smile and disappears, going back to his room and back to Dacotah.
What do they see? What do I want?
Once in my room, I strip and hit the shower. I can still smell the club, the sex, the furniture polish, the smell of Caden and I’m desperate to wash it away in hopes of cleaning my mind enough so that I can sleep.
When I climb into the shower, the hot water hits my body, I shiver and my cock gets hard as Mistress Milena slides into my mind. Wondering what she looks like under all those clothes, what it would be like to bend her over a table and pound into her from behind.
The fantasy morphs into bending Mistress Milena over a bed or table and her face is buried deep in Ashley’s cunt. Their joint moans and screams of pleasure spur my hand faster along my cock. Imagining myself taking control and sliding into her. Watching as each of my forward thrusts pushes her deeper into Ashley’s pussy. Ashley’s hands cup her breasts, tweaking her nipples as Milena works her over.
My orgasm builds, my balls tighten up, the pleasure races through my veins.
“Come for me, my sweet boy,” says the fantasy in my head and I explode. But it wasn’t Milena who ordered my orgasm. No, it was a man. Master Caden.
I spend another ten minutes in the shower scrubbing myself clean and raw.
Despite everything I try to do to wash away the idea that Caden ordered me, from inside my mind, I can’t shake the raging hard-on I have despite my previous orgasm.
I towel off and manage to corral my dick into a pair of pajama bottoms and crawl into bed.
I lie there staring at the ceiling with Derek’s words bouncing around inside my head. “You’re starting to see what many of us have seen all along.” “Sometimes the path we think we want isn’t the path we need.” What does that mean exactly?
As my eyes grow heavy, it hits me…submissive. I’m not a Top or a Dominant…I’m a submissive.
Maybe I’m meant to be a sub to someone. Mistress Milena, Sara, someone else I’ve yet to meet. Mistress Milena made no secret that she found me easy on the eyes. She didn’t seem to shy away from taunting me. Maybe that’s what I need. Maybe I’m going about this all wrong.
But I want to be on top.
I’d love to have Ashley beneath me. I’d love to learn, for her. I shake my head. Sure, I’d love to learn, but she is the only one I’d love to learn for. Maybe I’m not supposed to learn for her, but from her?
It’s with thoughts of being Avalon, splayed out for Mistress Milena that I doze off to sleep…
I’m awake, but yet I can’t see.
I’m bound but by something unknown, something I can’t see.
My mouth is held open. My arms are tired and strained, pulled tight behind my back.
I feel fingers along my cheek. They’re soft, yet I can feel the light scratch of nails as there is a tug against something and my mouth is free again. But only for a minute before soft, sensual lips land on mine.
My body comes alive. My heart starts pounding, and my breathing is heavy. The taste of sweetness and lipstick stays on my lips and tongue when she pulls away. She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t return the gag back to my mouth.
Instead, a new presence, an unknown presence somewhere in the room. I can’t see anything, but I sense it. I feel it walking a circle around me.
I shiver as the air stirs and hits my rock hard cock. I can’t see it, but I feel it jump, I feel it straining for a release.
I groan.
There are no voices, only breathing. My breathing. The sound mixes with the blood rushing in my ears.
Then something taps the tip of my cock, gentle enough to not hurt, but solid enough to make me jump.
The tap moves off my cock to the inside of first one thigh, then the other. Unsure of what to do, I relax. Spreading my legs wider.
Then I feel something, hard, yet forgiving tapping gently against my balls. There is a sharp prick of pain with each tap.
The tapping increases in frequency. The pain grows, and my breathing slows as I process the pain.
The thing smacking me moves. Capturing the inside of my thigh, then the other, repeatedly. I cannot spread my legs any further. My hands are bound behind my back, and the gag rests against my neck.
“More,” I moan out.
There is a sharp smack against my ass.
“More please, Mistress,” I moan and there is an even harder smack. This time against the other cheek and I jump. Unsure of what it is she wants from me, I groan. Dropping my request.
A rough hand slides into my hair, pulling my head back.
The smell in my nose is very distinctly male and familiar.
Lips, soft, but the kiss is rough. The prickle of a five o’clock shadow rubs against my lips.
The kiss stops, and my lips left wet and cold in the chill of the room.
“My sweet boy.”
The blindfold comes off and my eyes meet his.
“You’re mine, my sweet dirty boy.”
“Yes, Master. All yours.”
I bolt upright in bed. Dripping in sweat, my balls on fire with a desperate need to come.
Unable to stop myself, I grab my cock in my hand and pull once, twice, and I come all over myself with one person on my mind.
Caden.
TWENTY~NINE
WHY CADEN? WHY not Mistress Milena, or any other Mistress or Domme?
I swear to god the dream started off with Mistress Milena, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’d manifested that, that the person I was really kissing was Caden.
The thought makes me shiver with annoyance. Sure, Caden is a good looking, well-built man who’s bigger than I am, but I am certainly not gay, so why the sudden fantasies of him?
I’ve never been shy about men. I’ve shared plenty of women with another guy. And okay fine, I’ve thought about what it would be like to play with the man, but the only one I would have crossed that line with has been Dex, and that is probably only because he and I have shared our fair share of women since I started working for the band. But why now?
My thoughts keep me busy the rest of the night. When I can’t take lying still anymore, I get up and head for the kitchen.
When I do, I realize that I’m probably the only one awake and that brings me a little bit of comfort, until I step into the kitchen and find Derek sitting there drinking coffee and reading a paper.
“Morning,” I grumble as I clear the island and head for the coffee pot.
“Morning. You look like you didn’t sleep much.”
I grunt.
“That bad?” he asks as he sets the paper down and turns toward me. I look at him and just give him a look that says ‘take a wild guess’. “Want to talk about it?”
I snort. “The last time I did that, I ended up staying up most of the night.”
“True, but I’m guessing that what kept you awake was what I brought up to you last night?”
I nod and add some sugar to my coffee. “Is it really that obvious?” I ask, my voice is soft, contrite almost.
“Is what obvious?”
I purse my lips and turn toward him, looking at his expectant expression. “That I’m not a Dominant.” He raises an eyebrow, not saying anything, but I get the impression he expects me to say it out loud. “That I’m probably more submissive than dominant.”
The corners of Derek’s lips twitch as he fights a smile. “Yes, it is that o
bvious.”
“But how?” I slouch a little, defeated. I have this small blossom of hope pooling in my chest. Maybe he’ll refute my realization.
“How did I know?” I just nod. “Call it a Master’s intuition.”
I cock my head at him. “Do you all have that or something because I am pretty sure you’re not the only one who’s seen it?”
“No, we don’t all have it, but no, I’m not the only one who’s noticed,” he says almost regrettably. “Sometimes you can just tell. Sometimes it is just a matter of perception or how people see you.”
“Mistress Sara figured it out in her store. I think that’s why she looked down her nose at me.”
Derek snorts, “No, Mistress Sara is, well, she’s a horse of another color. She doesn’t see anyone as a dominant until they’ve proven themselves to her. She’s old school and skeptical of everyone. I wouldn’t take it personally. In fact, if I remember correctly, she did the same thing to Dex when they first met.”
“So then there is still hope?” I raise an eyebrow at him, expectant and maybe a little more hopeful than I should be.
“There is always hope, Beck. But I think your dominance will stem from training as a submissive before turning the tables. As much as I know you’d love to have a submissive under you, I’m not sure you’d be doing yourself any justice in that department.” He stands up, grabbing his cup and coming toward me and the coffee pot. I slide out of his way and take a sip. “Come, let’s talk in my office.”
Though the order is there, it’s softened by the add of going to his office, and despite the fact that I’m doing my hardest to deny the fact that I’m starting to believe he’s right, I can’t help but dutifully follow him.
Once inside his office, he gestures toward one of the two couches and closes the door. “So, Ash for example, sure, you like her, but does your like extend into Topping her or simply bringing her to bed with you?” He takes a seat opposite me and I drink more coffee before finding the answer that’s real and not just what I think he wants to hear.
“Sex, mostly. Though I wouldn’t mind other stuff, I’m not sure there is a relationship there besides sex.”
“But you gave her your number?” Again with the eyebrow going up.
“I did, but I also gave it to her at a time where I truly thought that I was meant to be on top.”
“So you’re going to stop talking to her?”
I look down at the coffee cup in my hands and don’t reply for a moment. His question brings me right back to where I’ve been, wishing I hadn’t given her my number, but in the same token, I’m not entirely sure I want to give her up either. “No, I don’t think so. I think we have more in common than I’d originally realized.”
“Submission,” Derek states simply.
“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know.” I rub my hand on my thigh, fidgeting a little bit, looking around his office, doing anything but looking at him.
“Let me ask you something?” I shrug and he doesn’t miss a beat. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason you’re struggling with this so much is because your introduction into this lifestyle has been from a Dominant’s perspective?”
My eyes finally meet his. “How was it supposed to be different?”
“It wasn’t.” He looks at me, reading me. “Just that maybe rather than listening to Dex or myself, maybe you should start talking to Cotah and Raine.”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t know that I can.” My voice is barely a whisper before I finish talking.
“I think you can, and I think maybe you should.”
I set my coffee cup down and stand up and start to pace around the room. Admitting to myself that I may not be dominant is one thing, but admitting to two girls, two women that I have the upmost respect for, hardly seems like the appropriate way of dealing with my submission. “I don’t want to seem weak.”
“Stop right there.” His voice is stern, his dominance evident, and I stop pacing and turn to look at him. His eyes are hard, his features tight. “Submission is not weakness, Aryn. In fact, it is the opposite of that. Weak and submissive are two words that do not and should never go together. What makes you think that they would receive you as weak?”
His words, his tone, have made me feel very small, scolded almost, and I don’t answer him right away. “Because I’m a man.”
Derek snorts. “And that has what to do with the price of tea in China?” He shakes his head in exasperation. “There are plenty of male submissives. In fact, there are almost as many, if not more men who submit than there are women. Submission isn’t about your gender, it isn’t about what you have between your legs. Submission is about who you are as a person, about the need to willingly surrender yourself to someone, to let them take control and give you the power to let it all go. Submission is about an unwavering desire to please and to be pleased. It is so much more than who you are physically, it’s what you are mentally.”
His words sink in, sliding through me like the blood pumping in my veins.
“It takes a very strong person to submit to someone else. Whether it is for sexual pleasure or lifestyle gratification. Regardless, willingly surrendering yourself to someone takes more balls than being the one to cradle and cherish the gift being offered.” He stands up, placing his hands in his pockets as he too starts to pace. “I don’t get very personal with people about my relationships, but one of the reasons that Cotah and I are a Master/slave couple is because I am unwilling and incapable of handing my submission to someone. Incapable of letting someone else hold the reins of my life. There are many submissive men. You met Mistress Milena last night. Did you meet Avalon?”
I shake my head. “She was working him over.”
He nods goes back to pacing. “Avalon is a perfect example of men, like me, giving up their power. Avalon, when not in the club, is one of the richest men I know.” He gives me a very pointed look. “And believe me, I rival his income, but he’s a lot like me. He owns multiple companies across different continents and he is constantly on the move, working his ass off for his companies and his release-”
“Is his submission,” I finish.
He looks at me with a smile on his face. “He has the ability to let it all go, to hand it all over to his Mistress when he walks in the door of The Box. Not many people are capable of doing that and I’m one of them. I am incapable of doing it which is why I made the worst possible submissive ever.”
“You were a submissive?”
He smiles at me. “I was. You don’t get a publicly respected Master title without first completing the training. Well,” he snorts, “It’s not like karate or anything, but most Masters have earned their titles, have trained, have properly stepped through the stages of a BDSM lifestyle. Now that doesn’t mean that you couldn’t walk into a different club as Master, but most veterans will call your bluff pretty quickly. Also, clubs vet their clientele. Often times that vetting includes discussing you with other clubs before admission.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, we got off track, but you get the idea. Willing to submit does not make you weak. It does not make you any less of a man, in fact, in my eyes, it would make you more of a man.”
“How do I change that perception?”
He looks at me, expectant. “What perception?”
“Um, mine. It’s been put out there that I was a Top.”
Derek stops his pacing and levels me with a stare. “You just change, you find someone willing to take you under their wing, and train you, teach you. You find other subs to befriend and talk to. No one at the club, especially at the club, is going to judge you for switching. In fact, you’d be surprised how many people do. When Dex first talked to you about coming out here, he didn’t really know how else to explain things to you, so all he had to give you was from a Dominant’s perspective. What you saw last night, what we’ve talked about, that has given you the chance to see it from the other side. There is nothing wrong with switching sides.”
“Is that what C
aden sees in me?”
He snorts. “Caden is,” he takes a deep breath, “Caden is someone who sees a challenge, and when he sees it, he wants it, and when he wants it he will stop at nothing to have it.”
“So he has his sights on me?”
He rocks on his feet from heel to toe and back again. “You could say that.”
“But I’m not gay,” I say sternly.
Derek snorts again. “Neither is he.”
“So then why…” I don’t bother to finish the question. Derek already answered it. Caden sees me as a challenge, something to conquer, something to have bowed down before him and I’m definitely not that kind of guy. “What about Mistress Milena?”
Derek smiles at me. “She is a handful, but she’s good at what she does.”
“She was eyeballing me pretty good last night. I guess that also plays into your theory too, doesn’t it?” It all makes perfect sense now. If Derek can see it, Mistress Milena can too.
Derek just nods.
THIRTY
AFTER MY TALK with Derek, I spend a good portion of the day arguing with him in my head. Despite all the obvious signs that I appear to be a submissive, something about the idea just doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, it turns me on, but I cannot imagine myself kneeling before a woman. I’ve never been one to take much from them, except for the things that I want, but to ‘bow’ to one is just something I can’t seem to wrap my head around.
A little later in the day, the girls wanted to go shopping and Derek insisted that I be the one to take them. I argued with him about it because he seemed to think spending time with the two of them would give me a chance to discuss the newly discovered information, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing so. It’s one thing to admit it to myself, but to two women whom I respect immensely and who I fear will see me as weak is a huge, impossible, pill to swallow.
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