~*~
Janice and Lawanda were whispering as Marissa approached the counter. They pulled apart when they saw her and Janice hurried away. Marissa took the stack of charts and sat down behind the counter to type in her notes at a terminal. From behind her, Lawanda said, “You’ll never guess Janice’s latest juicy tidbit.”
Marissa snorted. “Come on, Lawanda, whatever it is, please consider the source. According to Janice, the chief of oncology is having an affair with any number of the nurses, Frank down in the mailroom is really a CIA operative, and I’ve secretly been married and divorced three times.”
“Wait,” Lawanda said with mock surprise. “You mean you haven’t?”
Marissa laughed and shook her head. She tried to focus on her work but Lawanda persisted. “It’s about Cam Wilder.”
Marissa didn’t turn around, but her fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Oh?” she said in an elaborately casual tone. Shit, even the guy’s name was enough to make her tingle.
Lawanda laughed knowingly. “Yeah, oh,” she agreed. “The verdict is in on our newest hunk. This isn’t even gossip, it’s just the facts. Janice has proof. She saw him on Saturday going into one of those gay sex shops down in the Village. It’s official. The guy is queer as a two-dollar bill.”
“Oh,” Marissa said again, her heart plummeting into her shoes. She forced a small laugh and shrugged. “Just as well,” she lied. “Less distraction for the ladies, right?”
The busy day finally came to an end, and Marissa considered canceling her evening plans so she could take a hot bath and go to bed early. But she was only kidding herself. No way was she going to cancel. She had to see this through. She just had to.
Since Friday night at the club with Tony and Dana, Marissa hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what she’d witnessed. Watching Tony whip Dana with the electric flogger had been an extraordinary experience. Marissa had hugged herself as she watched, barely able to keep from whimpering with longing. Dana had been quiet at first, but as the flogging intensified and the sparks flew, she’d begun to yelp and squirm, and Marissa could almost feel the electric sting of the strands as they whipped over her friend’s bare back and ass. Then Dana had quieted again, though Tony had continued to flog her, if anything harder than before. A stillness had moved over Dana’s body and her face had been suffused with a kind of ethereal glow that was hard to describe.
Finally Tony had set down the flogger and released his wife from the large X-shaped cross to which he had earlier bound her by the wrists and ankles. She fell back into his arms without looking, her trust complete that he would catch her, which of course he did. Though he was the smaller of the two, he was apparently quite strong. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her to one of a series of sofas set around the room, Marissa forgotten. She’d trailed along, not wanting to intrude, but not sure what else to do.
Eventually Dana had opened her eyes and fixed Marissa with an angelic smile. “Hi,” she’d said. “So what did you think?”
Never in her life had Marissa yearned for something so fiercely, not even in her certainty since elementary school that she wanted to be a doctor. Seeing Dana, someone she knew and loved, transported by the erotic experience, had sealed the deal in her mind. She was done being a voyeur, watching videos and dreaming her secret dreams in the dark. She was ready for more. “I want it,” Marissa had blurted before realizing she was going to speak. “I want what you have.”
“Then you shall have it,” Tony had answered.
And tonight was the night. Dana had called her on Sunday to invite her over for what Tony had called “an exploration of your submissive potential.” Marissa’s heart had kicked immediately into high gear at the offer, but she was on call until six a.m. Monday and so had to decline. In a way she had been almost relieved to have a good excuse. Maybe she wasn’t as ready as she’d thought that night in the club.
“How about tomorrow night, then?” Dana had persisted, and again the longing had surfaced, as powerful and persistent as before.
Still, she forced herself to respond cautiously. “Um, what exactly are we talking about?”
“Whatever works for you,” Dana had replied breezily. “Tony and I are very comfortable scening with others, but we get it that you’re new to all this. If you just want to see what it feels like to maybe be tied up and spanked, we can do that. Or we can go further. It’s totally up to you.”
“At the club?” Marissa asked hopefully.
Dana shook her head. “Sorry. Open invitation night is only once a month.”
“Oh.” Marissa was surprised by how much this news deflated her. She wanted to go back. She wanted to be immersed in the heady, intense atmosphere of the luxurious, exotic surroundings of The Power Exchange. When they’d dropped her at home late Friday night, she’d masturbated in bed to images of herself in one of those punishment circles, naked and chained to a cross, a strong, faceless man whipping her until she begged for mercy. She’d moaned aloud when the man had pressed his naked body to hers, his erect cock hard against the small of her back. He’d released her from the cross and pushed her to the floor, where he’d mounted and fucked her until she screamed once more for mercy. She’d come hard, there alone in the dark.
“It’s better to take this first step in a private space, rather than a public club,” Dana had assured her. “It’s one thing to fantasize, but it could be you just like the idea of erotic torture and submission. Physically it might not be right for you. This is a way to dip your toe in, if you will, to see how your body reacts to what your mind thinks it craves.”
That made sense to Marissa, and she had genuinely liked Tony. Plus, Tony and Dana were clearly in love. This wasn’t just an excuse for the husband in a relationship to touch another woman, at least she was pretty sure it wasn’t. Just the same, she’d said, “I can keep my clothes on, right?”
“We’ll figure it out when you get here,” Dana had replied evasively, but then she’d added with a laugh, “Don’t worry, girlfriend. Whatever we work out, it will be with your full and complete consent. See you at eight. Be there or be square.”
Dana and Tony lived in a nice apartment building right off Central Park West in the seventies, complete with a doorman, who checked his iPad for Marissa’s name before granting her access to the marbled lobby. The elevator stopped on their floor and Marissa stepped out, feeling as nervous as a teenager on her first date. She rang the doorbell at number 1218 and stepped back.
A moment later the door opened and there stood her friend Dana. “Welcome. Come in, come in.” She pulled Marissa into a hug and then let her go.
Marissa took in the clean, elegant lines of the living room, with dark hardwood floors, minimalist leather and chrome furniture and a huge flat screen TV against one wall. The Manhattan skyline unfolded in a breathtaking view outside a huge picture window. Marissa’s entire apartment would fit into this one room, she realized. Both Dana and Tony were attorneys, Tony a partner at his firm. Clearly law paid better than medicine, she thought with an inward shrug. “What a gorgeous place,” she said sincerely.
“Thanks. We like it.”
Tony appeared from what must be the kitchen. He was holding a bottle of red wine and three glasses. “Hey there, Marissa. Welcome.” He moved toward a sofa with a coffee table set in front of it and put down the wine. “Come sit down. We’ll share a glass and talk about expectations, okay?”
Dana and she moved to sit down. Dana was wearing a white loose-flowing shift, her small, high breasts braless beneath the sheer fabric, her feet bare. Tony was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. Marissa was glad she’d changed from her work clothes into a silk batik tank top and white slacks.
Dana and Marissa sat on the sofa, and Tony sat across from them in a chair. He poured the wine and handed each woman a glass. Marissa took a sip. It was delicious, and she took another, letting its warmth move through her. After a bit of small talk, Tony put down his glass and stood. He moved around t
he table and, as Dana shifted to the side, sat down between the two women.
Marissa’s heart picked up its pace as Tony turned toward her. He reached for her hand, and Marissa let him take it. “Nothing that happens tonight will happen without your full consent. Dana and I have talked it over, and we would like to introduce you to a little light bondage and maybe a spanking or a flogging, depending on your comfort level. Does that sound good to you?”
Marissa’s mouth had gone dry and her voice came out hoarse when she answered. “Yes,” she managed, shocking herself by adding, “please.”
Tony smiled and let go of her hand. He stood. “Good. Why don’t you two go along to the playroom? I’ll join you in a moment.” Marissa darted a look at Dana, who had stood as well and was smiling. Finishing her wine, Marissa placed her glass on the table and got up, her heart beating with nervous anticipation.
While Tony took the bottle and glasses back into the kitchen, Dana led Marissa through the living room and down a narrow hallway, stopping at a closed door. Dana opened the door and stepped inside, clicking on the light as she entered. Marissa followed. Inside the room was a mini version of the club, complete with a cross, a spanking bench and, intriguingly, a human-size cage in the corner of the room. One wall was hung with coils of rope and various whips, canes and floggers. All sorts of cuffs, gags and other BDSM paraphernalia were set out on a long, high table against the back wall. Tucked into a corner was a plump loveseat with deep cushions, a small pile of blankets and towels stacked neatly on an end table beside it.
“Wow,” Marissa whispered, her mouth hanging open as she took in the space.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Dana enthused. “Am I the luckiest girl in the world, or what?” Then, to Marissa’s surprise, Dana pulled the shift over her head and hung it on a hook just inside the door. Completely naked, she dropped to her knees on a small mat just inside the door and locked her arms behind her back, thrusting her small, perfect breasts proudly forward.
Seeing Marissa’s shocked expression, she said, “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. I must always strip immediately when I enter Master’s playroom. It puts me in what Master Tony calls a proper frame of mind.” Dana’s voice had taken on a sultry, husky tone, and she already had that dreamy expression on her face Marissa had seen at the club.
“Oh,” Marissa replied inanely.
Tony appeared in the door. He stepped in front of his kneeling wife and bent down to kiss the top of her head. Turning to Marissa he said in a matter-of-fact tone, “Would you like to start on the spanking bench or on the cross?”
“Um, gosh. I don’t know.”
“Would you like me to decide for you?” Like Dana, Tony’s voice had also taken on a deeper timbre, and he seemed to radiate a kind of mastery Marissa found extremely attractive.
“Uh, yeah. Yes. That would be good.”
“Yes, Sir,” Tony corrected. “While in this room, you will call me Master, or Sir, understood?”
Something lit deep in Marissa’s gut at these words, a tiny but bright flame of desire. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, Sir.”
Tony nodded. “We’ll go with the St. Andrew’s cross. Face the cross and lift your arms against the X. I will strap you into place.”
Marissa felt like she was in a kind of dream as she moved toward the cross. She leaned against the large wooden X and lifted her arms. “I’m going to take off your sandals, okay?” Tony said.
“Yes, Sir.”
Tony crouched behind her and unbuckled her sandals, slipping each one off. Something about the gesture was both masterful and tender, and Marissa realized she was deeply attracted to Dana’s husband, and not quite sure how she felt about that. Tony moved just behind her, the warmth of his body seeping through her clothing as he reached up and strapped one wrist and then the other against the smooth, polished wood of the cross.
A shudder moved through her frame, shaking her to her core as the leather cuffs closed snugly around her wrists. The sense of vulnerability was nearly overwhelming, but at the same time her entire being thrilled to the sensation of being bound.
She jumped when Tony lightly caressed her back. “Relax,” he murmured into her ear. “How are you doing? You okay?”
Marissa nodded, both confused and excited by what was happening to her.
“While in this room, Marissa, you are my sub girl. My sub girl will answer all questions with words. It’s important that I hear you speak, and it’s also a sign of respect. So I’ll ask again. Are you okay?”
Sub girl.
The words resonated deep inside Marissa. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her heart beating high in her throat. “I’m okay, Sir. I’m good.”
“Good.” He stepped back and moved so Marissa could see his face. “Not that I think you’ll need it for this exercise, but it’s always a good idea to have a safeword, especially between people who aren’t intimately familiar with one another. Do you know what a safeword is?”
“Yes, I think so, uh, Sir,” Marissa answered. “It’s a word I would use if the scene got too intense. If I needed all the action to stop.”
Tony nodded. “That’s correct. It’s a word that we would never mistake as being an ongoing part of the scene. Something random, but that you would easily remember. Dana’s safeword is banana. Do you want to select a piece of fruit?” He grinned.
“Um. I’ll take lemon,” Marissa replied, deciding not to make a Freudian joke of Dana’s particular selection. Then the import of what she’d just done, of what she was doing, really hit her. A safeword!
“Lemon,” Tony repeated matter-of-factly, unaware of the turmoil going on inside Marissa’s head. “Perfect.” He stepped again behind her. “I’m going to leave your legs free for now. I think we’ll start with a spanking, just to get a sense of what you can handle. Pants on or off?”
Marissa swallowed, thinking of Dana naked behind her and so comfortable in her nudity. But Dana and Tony were married, and Dana was a bona fide sub girl, while Marissa was still only sub-curious, and really barely knew Tony. “Pants on…Sir.”
“All right, but feel free to change your mind. I’m going to spank you now.”
Marissa squeezed her eyes shut and tensed with nervous anticipation. Tony’s palm landed with a smack against her ass and Marissa gasped more out of surprise than anything. He struck her several more times in succession. Marissa began to relax. This wasn’t so bad. In fact, she had to admit she kind of liked the thud of his hard hand against her ass.
“How are you doing?” Tony asked.
“Good, Sir,” Marissa said. “But, um…” Did she dare?
“Yes?”
“Could we maybe try it with the pants off, but panties on?”
Tony chuckled. “We could do that.”
“It’s best skin on skin, Marissa, sweetheart,” Dana chimed in. “Don’t be shy. Tony’s seen bare bottoms before, trust me.”
Marissa said nothing to this. She drew in a tremulous breath as Tony unzipped the side zipper on her summer slacks and pulled them down her legs.
“We continue,” Tony said from behind her. His hand made more of an impact now, with only the thin silk of her panties between them. Marissa gasped as the sting mounted and her flesh heated. She began to pant, and became aware of the throb of her clit and the dampness in the crotch of her underwear.
He struck her hard, his rhythm steady as he covered every inch of her bottom. Tears stung her eyelids and Marissa began to dance a little on her toes, her body twisting to avoid Tony’s hard, relentless palm.
“I smell your desire,” Tony announced from behind her, and Marissa felt her face flame at these words.
“Oh, god,” she moaned, the words ripped from her mouth without her permission.
“No god.” Tony chuckled. “Just me. Are you ready for skin on skin, sub girl?”
Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and she could barely hear over the pounding of her own heart. “Skin, Sir,” she finally managed. He yanked down the flimsy, se
x-soaked silk and pulled it away.
The solid impact of his hand against her ass sent another spasm through Marissa’s frame, this one as much pure, raw lust as fear. She began to pant. Her nipples actually hurt and her clit throbbed so hard she felt like she might actually come without being touched, if such a thing were possible. “Oh, god,” she heard herself moan again, though the voice seemed disembodied, as if it belonged to someone else. Her ass was on fire, her cunt was soaked in liquid heat, her mind was short-circuiting, her heart smashing wildly against the confines of her ribcage. “Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god,” she chanted as Tony struck her again, and again, and again.
Then it happened—as impossible as it seemed, Marissa felt the familiar warm, buttery clutch of an orgasm rising deep in her belly and shuddering through her body as she gasped and jerked against her wrist restraints. Finally she sagged against the cross, tears streaming down her cheeks, blood roaring in her ears, her breath rasping in her throat.
After a while—a second, a minute, an eternity, who could say?—she heard Tony’s dry chuckle behind her, and she realized the spanking had stopped. She felt him reach for one wrist and then the other, releasing the Velcro straps that held her in place. She fell back against him, her eyes closed as she reveled in the warmth of his strong embrace.
Tony put a supportive arm around Marissa’s shoulders and led her to the loveseat, where Dana now waited, a blanket spread open on her lap. As Tony eased Marissa onto the loveseat, Dana wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Marissa leaned against her friend, who pulled her close. She rested her head on Dana’s shoulder, her eyes closing of their own accord as a happy sigh escaped her lips.
“This girl is natural,” Tony said from somewhere in the distance. “No question about it. She was born to submit.”
The Inner Room Page 4