I replied with a simple OK and began to wonder. Did M have a task for me or was he not yet finished scolding me for following an exhibitionistic impulse without his knowledge or permission? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I hadn’t driven topless for my own thrill. The excitement I got from doing such things had more to do with being a good sub and pleasing my dom, and the fact that I had fallen so hard for M only increased that feeling.
I arrived at M’s building with my blonde wig and sunglasses in my purse, ready for him to punish me or dare me again, or maybe both. Whitney looked up from behind the receptionist desk and gave me a big smile. That girl was so adorable and had such a fabulous body that I again wondered why M had chosen me instead of someone like her.
M’s office was the same as always, just a small desk and chair in the middle of the room, facing the window. On the desk was a laptop computer with the screen dark. I took a seat and waited.
Ten minutes later I was still waiting and began to squirm in my seat. M was never late. I considered texting him, but chose not to. Another ten minutes passed. I stood and walked around the room, standing at the window. Again I noticed the darkened windows of the building across the street and the people on the sidewalk below. I thought back about my very first meeting with M in this office, and how he’d told me to stand in this window and expose a breast. I did so reluctantly, for just a few seconds, and nearly lost my chance to be his sub because I didn’t realize I was supposed to remain exposed until he gave me permission to cover myself.
Half an hour had passed when I checked my phone to make sure I read the correct time on M’s message.
Be in my office today at 6pm.
Maybe this was a test of some sort. I resolved to stay in that office until I heard from M. I was getting a little hungry, but that could wait. A bathroom break might be needed at some point, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
I looked at the picture I’d taken the day before, the one of which M had disapproved. I looked confident and happy with my blonde hair and big sunglasses, my large breasts displayed for the world to see. What was so wrong with that? M had instructed me to do similar things for his amusement. Maybe it was about control, that he didn’t want to cede even a tiny bit of authority over me and my body.
I squirmed in my seat. I stood and walked around again. Around 6:45 there was a knock on the door. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Was it him? Would I finally see what he looked like?
Opening the door was a letdown. There was no M, only Whitney’s smiling face. She was holding a clothing box from some boutique I’d never heard of.
“Someone just dropped this off for you,” she said.
I took the box and looked at Whitney. “Was it him?” I asked.
“No,” she replied, “just a courier.”
My disappointment must have shown. I was also emotionally drained from waiting nearly an hour without knowing why I was here or what M wanted.
“You okay?” Whitney asked as she stood in the doorway.
“I haven’t heard from him yet,” I said. “He told me to be here at 6:00. Yesterday after I left the bar, I did something that might have pissed him off.”
Rather than ask what I’d done, Whitney reached through the open door and touched my cheek. “It’ll be okay,” she reassured. “He’s probably just busy.”
I thanked her and shut the door, then put the box on the desk. I considered opening it, but thought twice; I’d wait till M told me to do so.
Finally, at exactly 7:00, the laptop screen flickered. I quickly sat and was looking at the picture of me walking along the riverfront in that sheer blouse and no bra. Several people were staring at my visible breasts. I didn’t know whether I preferred my own picture as a screensaver to the previous one of the woman exposing a breast on the MAX car.
“Hello, Rachel.”
The voice coming through the computer speaker took my breath away. I wanted this man more than I could possibly admit to him.
“Hi, M.”
I looked at the people on the laptop’s screen, gawking at my breasts.
“Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
He was definitely pissed off. I heard it in his voice.
“I’m so sorry.”
M finally explained his position.
“When I have you do things for me, I go to great lengths to ensure your safety. If you do things like that without my knowledge, anything could happen. You could be arrested, or even worse, assaulted.”
I felt my eyes tearing up. I was ashamed, but the fact that M cared wasn’t lost on me.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you, M. I won’t ever do it again.”
After a brief silence, he spoke again.
“Then we don’t need to discuss it any more. Take off all your clothes.”
I was relieved, then frightened, then excited. I stood and began to strip in front of the computer camera so M could see me. When I’d removed the last of my clothing, I sat in the chair and took off my earrings, setting them on the desk. I crossed my legs and smiled at the camera.
And nothing happened.
When nothing at all happened for the next five minutes, I started to feel self-conscious about my nakedness and spoke up.
“M?”
No response came. At this point I knew he was punishing me for my insolence. I wanted to beg for mercy, to tell him I was still learning how to be a submissive, but chose to sit in silence. Again I wondered if, with the light on inside this office, anyone in the building across the street could see me sitting here naked. The desk would cover some of me, but not all. The seconds continued to tick past.
Fifteen minutes later, M spoke again.
“Did you open the box yet?”
The voice startled me and I jumped.
“Where did you go?”
I thought I heard a laugh.
“Nowhere. I was right here, staring at your body.”
I was taken aback, but I guessed I deserved my punishment. I wanted to ask him if he was hard, but knew it wasn’t the time to flirt.
“No, I didn’t open the box. You haven’t told me to.”
My nipples hardened at the thought that M was staring at them.
“Good girl. There’s hope for you. Open it now.”
I took the top off the box and looked inside. There were two pieces, a mid-thigh length pencil skirt with a slit up the back and a gorgeous corset top, both black. The corset had silvery filigree detail running along the boning, giving it an elegant, sexy look. It seemed like it might be pretty daring for me, considering my large breasts, but daring was what M was all about. Sitting atop the clothing was a single wireless earbud.
“Do you want me to put this on?”
I was praying he wasn’t going to ask me to walk around outside wearing it.
“No, it’s for Friday night. You’re going to Club Sesso.”
I’d heard of the place. It was a sex club owned by porn star Ron Jeremy, an upscale nightclub for swinger couples, or something like that.
“Are you going with me?”
Please, please, please.
“No, you’ll be going alone. I’ll be in your ear, though.”
That explained the earbud.
“I thought only couples could get in.”
I would be excited if I were going with M. Without him, I didn’t like the idea.
“Single women get in, too.”
So much for that. I guess I was going to a sex club alone. M continued:
“You’ll wear the earbud so I can talk to you and tell you what to do.”
I began to feel a little queasy. M was really pushing my limits.
“Will I be able to talk to you while I’m there?”
I ran my fingers over the material of the corset. Damn, it was beautiful. So elegant, such amazing materials and flawless workmanship.
“I’m afraid not. But relax, I’ll talk you through the entire night.”
I set the cors
et down.
“Are you going to want me to be with someone?”
M hesitated.
“Is that what you’d like, Rachel?”
He was getting the wrong idea.
“Only if it’s you, M.”
I waited, looking at my breasts on the laptop’s screen.
“You’ll do whatever I say. Are we clear on that?”
He was still angry. Apparently, making me wait forever in this little office hadn’t calmed him. Could I have sex with someone if he told me to? I certainly wouldn’t want to, but yes, I would do it for M, if that’s what he wanted.
“Yes, M. I’ll do anything you tell me.”
I held my breath.
“Good. I’ll contact you Friday during the day, then.”
Today was Tuesday. I wouldn’t hear from M for three days? I hated this punishment.
“Do you want me to try this on now?”
I held up the outfit.
“No, I’m certain it will fit perfectly.”
I didn’t understand.
“Then why did you have me take my clothes off?”
M laughed again.
“Because I love to look at your gorgeous body.”
What?
“Get dressed and go home now. Goodnight, Rachel.”
I said goodnight and put my clothes back on. It was 7:30 when I left the office, and the man in the room next door waved as I walked past. Why was his door always wide open? Whitney was still at her desk and asked me if everything was okay. I told her I thought so, but that M was still upset.
“What’s in the box?” she asked. “Can I see?”
I showed her my new outfit. She oohed and aahed as she checked it out, then she looked at me, her unasked-but-obvious question hanging between us.
“He wants me to go to Club Sesso. Alone.”
Whitney’s mouth stretched into a grin.
“You’ve heard of it?” I asked.
“I’ve been there,” she said. “With my now ex-boyfriend.”
“What was it like? I’ve heard it’s pretty crazy.”
There was a gleam in Whitney’s eye. “You’ll love it, Rachel. Trust me.”
“Even alone?” I asked.
She grinned. “Especially alone. There will be lots of guys there if you’re up for something. But you can just dance and walk around watching everyone else. You’ll have a great time. And you’ll look amazing in this,” she said as she ran her fingers over the corset.
Whitney told me the club had rooms set aside for sex, and while some guests kept the curtains and doors closed, others were more exhibitionistic and left them wide open. People would gather around the window and watch the frolicking inside.
I felt I knew Whitney well enough at that point to ask if she and her ex actually had sex in the club. She said she had gotten so worked up drinking, dancing and watching other people having sex that she’d pulled him into a dimly lit room with a bunch of beds separated only by sheer curtains. She and her boyfriend had found a bed and made out while peeking through the curtains at other couples having full-on sex. Eventually they got so turned on that they chucked their clothes and did all kinds of one-on-one things in front of a steady stream of gawkers. She said she never would have been comfortable enough to have sex in front of strangers, but it was Halloween and everyone was in costume. Whitney and her boyfriend were wearing Venetian-style masks that gave them the necessary anonymity. She admitted it had been one of the most outrageous, exciting things she’d ever done, but she would never had done it without the mask.
“And people actually watched you?” I asked.
“Lots of people,” she said breathlessly. “They stood at the end of the bed and stared while we fucked each other’s brains out.”
I was surprised to hear about this sexually adventurous side of my new friend. It made me feel better about the things I’d been doing for M.
“But you went with a date,” I said. “I’m going by myself. I’ll feel so self-conscious.”
“I wish I could go with you,” Whitney sighed. “It would be so much fun. And not as scary for you.”
I shook my head. We both knew that was up to M. If only there were some way I could ask M for permission to take a friend along. I didn’t know what he had in mind for me, though.
For the next few days, I hoped M would contact me. Maybe another long Skype session would give me a chance to find out what he was planning for me at Club Sesso. If I were going to do anything with a strange man, knowing in advance would help me get in the necessary mindset. And again I wondered why M couldn’t just meet me in person. He was the one I wanted to have sex with.
Just my luck, though: M never called or texted.
4
During the week, I did my homework on Club Sesso, looking over the club’s website and reading dozens of reviews from people who had been there. Most of them were complimentary, but they sounded like they were coming from people who were already in the swinger lifestyle. Still, the pictures I saw showed a very well-appointed nightclub with a large dance floor and a bar that could have been in just about any big club. It was what took place in the other parts of the club that made me nervous.
My anxiety level rose as I learned more about Club Sesso and Friday rolled around far too quickly. As the minutes ticked by at work, I grew more and more nervous about that evening. M texted me around three o’clock with the only pre-game instructions he’d give me.
You are to be at Sesso at 9:30pm for an orientation tour. In the clothing box you’ll find a fake driver’s license. Use it, then destroy it tomorrow. Once you’re at the club, you’ll hear me through the earbud.
Still feeling as if I’d been spanked for the topless selfie, I texted OK.
I’d already known about the fake ID. I found it when I’d tried on the outfit as soon as I got back to my apartment from M’s office that night. I had to admit, M really knew how to shop for a woman. The outfit was gorgeous and fit me perfectly. It minimized my flaws while accentuating what assets I felt I had. The bad thing is, it looked so much better on me with my real hair. I wished I could go to the club without the wig, but with a guarantee that I wouldn’t see anyone I know. That thought surprised me; during my time with M, my confidence had increased substantially. I now usually considered myself sexy and attractive, occasionally even pretty. Until I met M, I never had those thoughts, dwelling instead on my size and weight.
I liked the new Rachel so much more and had M to thank for that.
And if he’d ever let me, I knew just how I wanted to thank him.
For the time being, I would thank him by being a good sub and doing anything he told me to, even if it involved having sex with a total stranger in a sex club. I just hoped that wasn’t what M had in mind for me that night. That particular night at Sesso didn’t involve costumes, it was merely something they called their Champagne Party. I was thankful M hadn’t asked me to go the night after, which was Gangbang Night.
After work, I took a long luxurious shower and prepared myself for my night out. Just after eight o’clock I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, with smoky eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner. A knock on my door startled me. I could only think that it was Todd, my next-door neighbor who’d recently shown an increased interest in me. To my surprise, it was a young man I’d never met, holding a small box.
“Rachel Malinsky?” he asked.
I nodded and he said he had a delivery, but needed to see an ID as confirmation. I asked who the package was from.
“All I have is the letter M,” he said. I showed him my real driver’s license and signed for the package. I thanked the delivery man and closed the door, then opened the small box only to find another box inside. I’d have recognized it as a jewelry box even if I hadn’t seen “Tiffany & Co.” written on it. I hurriedly opened it and found myself looking at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’d ever seen. It was a lariat-style necklace with a long silver strand that draped around the neck, one end terminatin
g in a small ring and the other end sliding through the ring and ending with a single teardrop diamond — a diamond so big and brilliant that I first thought it couldn’t possibly be real. There was also a card with a hand-written note.
Good girls deserve rewards. - M
Hurrying to my bathroom, I put it on and looked in the mirror. The little ring sat just below my collarbone and the silver strand trailed down my chest to the diamond, which rested delicately against my skin near the top of my cleavage. I stared at my reflection and had to fight back tears. The necklace was stunning, but that wasn’t what caused me to well up. It was something much more important, more substantial.
I was beautiful.
The Rachel in the mirror may have been the same size as the one I thought I’d known so well a couple of months ago, and her hair and makeup were similar, but something had changed. Though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, the woman I was staring at was closer to the me I’d always hoped to be.
It was time to go, so I grabbed a light jacket and my car keys and headed out the door.
Arriving at Club Sesso in downtown Portland, the valet opened my door and took my keys. I was glad I’d taken the time to put on the wig in the parking garage before I left my apartment. A doorman held open the front door and I stepped inside, noting that neither of the two men had glared at me as if I were too fat to be there. In the small entry room, I hung my jacket on the coat rack and immediately felt exposed, my shoulders and cleavage reacting to the cool air with a layer of goosebumps.
I was welcomed by a woman at a small desk who asked if I were there for the orientation tour. I confirmed I was and she asked for my ID, which identified me as “Rachel Ehmsubb.” The picture on the ID was me with blonde hair — I guessed that M had taken it sometime when I was in front of the laptop in his little office. I giggled as I realized that this night I was, phonetically at least, “Rachel, M’s Sub.” The woman directed me through the door into the club and told me to wait there for the tour guide.
Upon entering Club Sesso, I understood what the fuss was about. This was no ordinary swingers’ club, it was big and expensive-looking. A large bar was to my left and a dance floor to the right, complete with a light show and twin cages someone could enter if they dared to dance in the spotlight. At the moment, the music was subdued and there were only a handful of people, most of whom appeared to be employees. A couple was waiting inside the door, looking sheepish enough so that I knew they were their for the orientation tour as well. I smiled shyly and they smiled back, but I felt the man’s eyes remain on me for a while afterward.
Forced to Bloom, The Complete Series: (BBW Alpha Male Billionaire BDSM Romance) Page 12