IcySeduction

by Shara Lanel

  “To which you obviously said no.”

  “Damn right. I’ll call to check on him, okay?” He hit a speed dial icon on his phone. When he hung up, he said, “I’d say he was sleeping, but he could have a whole Risky Business thing going on…”

  “I think he’s still a bit young for that.”

  “I don’t know. He’s very enterprising.”

  “I thought you said he was into art.”

  Jake shrugged. “Never know.”

  The store was in a part of town that Christine avoided normally, a part not overseen by Disney and tourism, but there was parking in the back and a well-lit entrance to the store, which was innocently called Stockings and Stuff. There was a second entrance with spotlights trained on it. The canvas awning over the door was red with a black mask and riding crop on it. The door had the name of the club—Yes, Master—splashed like blood in vampiric letters. Jake parked and glanced at Christine to see how she was reacting to it. She was biting her lip nervously, but her eyes were wide and lit up.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “What if I only want to go in the store?”

  “Christine, whatever you want. I’ll take you home now if you’d rather.”

  Slowly a smile took over her face. “No, I at least want to look around.”

  He had to kiss that smile. He took his time, moving his tongue inside her mouth, cupping her head in his hand. Her eyes closed and she started squirming in her seat. Jake pushed her gently away. “Let’s go in.”

  Chapter Seven

  The first thing Christine noticed in the store was a wall of extremely high-heeled shoes. She immediately veered in that direction since she loved shoes. Tons of leather clothing was displayed on the back wall—corsets, nighties, dresses, leggings and booty shorts. Black wire shelves throughout the store held the toys, everything from tame-looking vibrators to curled-up leather whips. She shivered and walked closer to the shoes. These were safe and somewhat funny to look at.

  “Oh my, look at these.” She handed Jake a pair of pumps with skeleton feet painted on them.

  “Hmm, not my idea of sexy. What about the red ones?” He handed her the pair that looked like Mary Janes on steroids—super-slick patent leather and heels to the moon.

  “You’ll spend the rest of the night holding me upright.” She turned a pair of shoes over. “Some of these are really expensive.”

  “Some of these I’d pay anything to see you in, like those thigh-high boots.”

  “Ooh, I really like this pair.” They were mostly black velvet booties, with what would be considered in this place, a moderate heel, though an inch or two higher than she ever wore normally. The upper part was sheer with tiny buttons running up the top of the foot to the ankle.

  Instantly a saleslady appeared. “What size would you like?”

  Christine started a little, but Jake’s hand was warm on the small of her back so she felt safe. “A seven, please.”

  The lady smiled and looked at Jake. “You have her well trained.”

  As the lady marched away to get the shoes to try on, Christine found herself scowling. “I am not a trained dog or something.”

  Jake chuckled and the sound was so goddamn sexy that her nipples perked up.

  She tapped her lip. “You know, it’s not just me who needs some leather to wear. There seems to be a men’s section over there in the corner.”

  “I want to see you in those shoes first.”

  When the saleslady returned, she opened the box and told Christine to sit so she could fit the shoes on her. They fit like Cinderella’s glass slippers…if Cindy had been into fetish-wear. Christine managed to stand on her own but was a bit wobbly when she tried to walk. Jake balanced her by holding on to her waist until she got the hang of them. Christine stepped in front of the small, angled shoe mirror and twisted her ankle to get different views of the shoes. “Damn, these are hot,” she whispered in a voice not meant to be heard by anyone else.

  “I agree,” Jake whispered, his lips close to hear ear. She felt his breath on her skin and shivered. Louder he said to the saleslady. “We’ll take them.”

  Jake quickly chose black leather jeans and a button-front leather vest that looked sort of Western. Meanwhile, Christine perused the wall of women’s wear. Just how daring did she want to be? Ultimately, she went with a simple black leather dress, very short, with off-the-shoulder lacey long sleeves. She tried it on and was quite pleased because she still looked like herself, just a lot sexier.

  She stepped out of the dressing room to find Jake leaning against the wall holding out a pair of stockings still in the package and a tiny little thong. “I talked to the saleslady and she said we could go ahead and get dressed in our new duds.”

  “Without paying?”

  “I already gave her my credit card. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I do worry. You said you were working two jobs.”

  “I have enough for a splurge now and then. Good to know you’re not a spendthrift.”

  “You haven’t seen me in a department store yet. Be warned.” She took the stockings and thong. “This thing is going to feel so weird.”

  “You need to take a little risk.”

  She went back into the dressing room and changed into everything but the new shoes, which were up by the cash register. When she reappeared, Jake was changed too, and damn he looked good in leather. The saleslady came over with her shoes. “Put these on, then check your whole look out in the mirror.”

  Christine still felt a little unstable on such high heels, but she loved the overall look. Feeling the thong between her ass cheeks turned her on a little bit, as did the leather rubbing against her bare breasts.

  Jake came up behind her and admired their reflections in the mirror. “Hottest woman I have ever seen in my life!”

  There was a private entrance to the club at the back of the store via a spiral staircase. A velvet rope blocked the upstairs door but a button read “Ring Me”. Jake pressed it and they heard the buzzer from the other side of the door. A burly guy, the bouncer apparently, opened the door and asked to see their IDs and asked who recommended the club to them. Jake gave the name Sasha, which had Christine immediately wondering about this other woman. Once the IDs met with the bouncer’s approval, he opened the door. Behind the door was a short hallway. “It’ll be just a moment before Mistress greets you.”

  Christine fidgeted nervously as she stared at the plain wood door until Jake captured her hands in his to still them. “You’re safe with me and we can leave whenever you want.”

  Christine nodded, feeling calmer with his hands cradling hers and his deep voice with a slight New York accent filling her ears. She trusted him instinctually, the crazy guy who thought he was a werewolf. Why was that?

  The door opened and a buxom woman greeted them. She wore a sheer mesh top with the word “Mistress” in hot pink above her boobs. Christine had to force herself not to stare at her very visible nipples. “Welcome,” she said in an over-the-top sultry voice. “Follow me.”

  She led them down another short hall to an area with three round tables and a wall full of every conceivable paddling device. Couples had already claimed two of the tables, so she invited them to sit at the third. There was a counter in front of the wall of devices, bare except for a credit card machine. Mistress reached behind the counter and pulled out three clipboards and pens. She handed them to each couple.

  “Since you all are new to the club, you must first sign the rules, then I’ll give you a little tour, and last you can choose your toys and equipment.”

  Christine leaned over to read the sheet of paper. The two rules that she hadn’t expected were the zero alcohol policy and the zero intercourse policy. She’d expected this place to be all about sex.

  “Let me emphasize the safe, sane, consensual motto and make sure you understand safe words. You may have used these at home or at other clubs. If not, we recommend Green, Yellow, Red—they’re easy to remember and the meaning
s are fairly obvious. Green means, yup, I’m enjoying what we’re doing. Yellow means too intense, slow down…you may need to have a discussion about what each of you think you can handle. Red means stop—nothing else happens, bindings are released. No argument or debate.”

  One of the ladies at the far table raised her hand. “Why don’t we just say ‘stop’ then?”

  “You may be in a scene where you want to yell stop and feel you’re being forced. In this case, stop doesn’t really mean stop, no doesn’t really mean no. When you can’t handle the scene any longer, there must be no confusion.” Mistress practically glared at the lady, causing her to cower. Christine was glad she hadn’t asked the question.

  Once they had all signed the rules, they had to relinquish their cell phones since the club had a strict privacy policy. “And if you’d like to check out any equipment, we ask for your license. You’ll get it back when you return the equipment, simple as that.”

  Oddly enough, this woman reminded Christine of her third grade teacher, putting a definite damper on any horniness she’d been feeling. But once they started their tour of the club, that changed. She wasn’t used to seeing people of all different shapes, sizes, races, piercings and tattoos, semi-nude. Any porn she’d ever watched online had sexy men and skinny women with huge boobs, but real life came in a variety. They passed several cubbies with different scenes being played out before they came to an open room. Industrial music boomed out of unseen speakers. There was a tiny bar serving colas and water. At the far end was a stage raised about a foot above the regular floor. Every bare section of wall had eyehooks or manacles or pulleys with rope attached. A bit away from the walls were devices such as a wood X to which a woman was strapped spread-eagled. Her partner was sliding an ice cube over her bare skin, causing her to jerk and giggle. The rest of the equipment ranged from simple chairs to swings to tables that looked like medieval torture devices.

  Jake whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?”

  Christine nodded, though there were a couple of things really freaking her out, like the stage show. A man with an executioner’s hood caned a petite naked woman who was bent over a bench. Her butt was hot pink from the hits, but every time the man paused she wiggled her butt as if she were eager for more. The other thing Christine couldn’t help but be scared of was the needle play. A man was tied up on a bench with a dominatrix—she looked the part—piercing his scrotum. Jake flinched at that scene too.

  The whole place smelled of leather and sweat and a sweet incense from censers scattered about the ceiling. The sounds ranged from moans to grunts to screams to quiet conversations. The other interesting thing was the number of people simply watching. Didn’t the players think that rude?

  Mistress spoke to their small group again. “Most of the folks out here on the floor don’t mind you respectfully observing them. No comments or questions, though. The folks in the cubby areas tend to want their privacy, so please don’t disturb them. We also have theme rooms and I can give you a price list if you’re interested.”

  “Um, theme rooms?” Christine asked.

  “Yes. We have a room that could be a honeymoon suite in the Poconos, a classroom with switches, rulers and boards. There’s a gloomy dungeon with gas torches, a padded room with straightjackets and electroshock devices, and a surgical suite with stirrups attached to a stainless steel table.” She smiled evilly at Christine. Boy, she would not want to meet this woman alone in an alley. “There are also VIP rooms for those who want absolute privacy.”

  Last, Mistress showed them the counter where they could sign out different devices.

  Jake hugged Christine. “So what do you think? Do you want to try something or observe for a while?”

  “I think we should try something. If I observe too long, I might chicken out. But absolutely no piercing or cutting or blood.”

  “I like your skin unmarred.” He picked up a riding crop. “Though perhaps a little more pink.” He gave her a wicked grin and Christine shivered. The fact that a BDSM club was taboo in her normal world was both a turn-on and frightening. Jake turned over his driver’s license in exchange for the riding crop, a black satin blindfold and a worn leather paddle. The man behind the counter also gave them a can of bleach wipes, since they were expected to clean off any equipment after use. The practicalities were not a turn-on, but they made Christine feel safer within these boundaries.

  Jake, goodies in hand, turned her around to face the open floor area. “So, what’ll it be—the wall, a bench, or a cross?”

  “Shouldn’t you pick, Master?”

  “I want us to try whatever will keep you wanting more, not scare you away from the scene for good.”

  “The wall with the manacles… Geez, I can’t believe I just said that.”

  Jake pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “In case I forget later, thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting us stay at your house and for being open to experimentation.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They wended their way to a free section of the wall with leather and chain manacles attached with a metal eyehook. It looked ominous, a modern take on an Inquisition dungeon. Christine’s palms grew clammy at the same time the spot between her legs moistened. Who knew panic could be such a turn-on?

  “Remember, you’re in charge,” Jake told her as he guided her closer to the wall. He turned her to face it, pressing in close behind her so that she could feel his hard-on against her ass and his breath on her neck. He slid his hands up her ribs, tickling her underarms before sliding up her arms to her wrists. His fingers circled her wrists as the manacles soon would.

  Christine turned her head to the right and noticed a hand-holding couple watching her. I’m doing this in front of people! The taboo element notched way up and arousal shimmered through her body.

  “Shit,” Jake whispered. She looked up to see he was fumbling with the thick leather and metal buckle on the cuffs.

  Christine chuckled. “Take your time, dear.”

  “It’s just that people are watching us.”

  “Stage fright?”

  Now he chuckled too as he finally got the cuffs latched. “Maybe a little. I think it’s different because I know it’s your first time. You remember the safe words?”

  “Green, yellow, red, and yellow does not mean drive faster and run the red light.”

  “Not what most of my customers think.”

  “Then they should leave themselves more time to get where they’re going.”

  He showed her the blindfold. “Well, we, my dear, have plenty of time.”

  “Yes, Master.” Now that she couldn’t see, her other senses heightened, not just to Jake’s light touches and the change in his breathing that told her he was quite turned-on, but to more distant sounds, like the couple watching them and whispering to each other, though the pulsing music made it hard to hear the actual words. Nearby she heard the slap of leather against flesh, followed by a moan and a shouted, “More, Master!” She heard a lot of creaks, leather and wood and metal being tested for strength and endurance. She tasted saltiness from sweat on her lips and smelled Jake’s musky cologne. The smell of leather and old paint and smoke assailed her nostrils.

  The leather cuffs were stiff but comfortable, but her shoulders were starting to burn from staying in such an unfamiliar position.

  Jake slowly unzipped the back of her dress, gliding his fingers over each bit of bare skin revealed. Christine shivered, feeling chillier and more exposed. He pushed the dress down her shoulders a bit so that her entire back was free of fabric. The next light touch tickled a little. It had to be the flattened loop of leather at the end of the riding crop, because it went from a tickle to a sharp sting as Jake brought it down with some force.

  “Ahh!” Christine’s gasp turned Jake on even more. He’d already been hard from unzipping her dress and fondling the riding crop, but now the sound of her gasp and the red stripe across her flawless skin had his cock
throbbing with the need for release. He had to remind himself of the rules of the club so he could focus on what he was doing, allowing Christine to discover the sensuality of pain.

  He swatted her twice more in quick succession, careful to keep the speed and pressure even. She gasped each time. Her mouth open, her breathing growing heavier, faster. Jake decided to catch her off guard by trailing soft kisses down her spine. This time the response was a low moan and a thrust of her hips, as if she was trying to rub against the wall. Jake stepped back to admire the view—sassy high heels accentuating her trim calves, clenching thighs, black dress screaming to be ripped off. He imagined her juices dripping on the thong riding her slit. He swatted her twice more, harder, quicker. The red slashes made her look like a work of art. He used the paddle on her still-covered ass and on the inside of her thighs. She spread her legs wider in response, which tensed her thighs more and stretched her upper body taut. Without the high heels, she wouldn’t reach the floor.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, both to check on her and to dim his body’s response.

  “Green, full-on green.” She sounded as if she’d been running a race and had gotten her second wind.

  Jake ran his hands over her upper thighs, pushing the dress up higher and higher, revealing the lace tops of the stockings and the tiny strip of fabric that disappeared in her crack, which he knew was soaked. With his woman’s ass bare, he brought out the paddle. He noticed more people had stopped to watch them, some dressed in fetish-wear and some in more casual club clothes. He got the impression from some of the flinches that some were turned-on by the tableau, but had yet to try it themselves.

  Jake began to paddle Christine’s tender ass, slow at first but gaining speed. Finally he found a rhythm he liked. He asked her again how she was feeling.

  “Green.” Her voice was sexy and gravelly, but her tone sounded light, as if she was getting high.

  * * * * *

  With each paddle stroke, Christine let herself go. Closing her eyes, she went as limp as she could without injuring her shoulders. Her anxious desire for Jake to fuck her, rules or no, fled. She wanted nothing more than for the paddling to continue. All her worries fell away, from mundane job things to the crazy things Jake had tried to explain to her. Pain evaporated. She felt high, exhilarated, as if her life had simplified into the present and the feel of the paddle against her bare skin.