by BJ Wane
Woo hoo! Can’t wait to see you and fill you in on what you’ve missed! Us girls plan to gather at my old apartment above the tea shop beforehand to disguise ourselves, hopefully good enough to make the Doms work at guessing who’s who. Feel free to join us – 7:00.
Before Leslie could come up with an excuse, she sent a quick reply telling her she would be there. She’d never ventured into Willow Springs, but Nan’s directions to her tea shop were easy enough, and she figured meeting up with them first would keep her from bolting at the last minute like she’d done a few weeks ago. Shopping for a costume would be fun and would occupy her mind and time, hopefully enough to keep her from second-guessing her decision.
“What the hell was that thing you unloaded from the horse trailer?”
Kurt’s pleasure at seeing his father out on the porch for a change instead of at his bedroom window took a nosedive as soon as Leland opened his mouth. Taking off his hat, he slapped it against his thigh, annoyed with his derogatory tone and question. “I know Roy gave you my message when I called to have him clear one of the smaller corrals for the wild mustang I purchased, and you knew I was going to auction today.”
Leland nodded with a scowl. “But not to buy that nag. For God’s sake, Kurt, that animal is skin and bones, and nasty to boot. What are you going to do with him?”
“I could say the same about you,” he shot back. The past month had yielded little changes in Leland’s health and attitude, but not enough as far as Kurt was concerned. It had taken three weeks before his father admitted defeat in getting him to relent on resuming the private therapy sessions. Just this past week, he’d allowed Cory to drive him into the clinic and had returned tired but with a healthy flush covering his face that Kurt was pleased to see. The bad news was he’d only exercised enough in the weeks before that to keep from losing ground, doing nothing to improve his strength and mobility. “As you know, the stallion was headed to the dog food factory and I couldn’t let that happen. He’s young, mean as a snake and malnourished, but I can see his will to live in his eyes, along with his intelligence. He’ll be worth the effort to nurse him back to health, maybe even tame him.”
Leland snorted in disbelief. “I thought you knew horseflesh better than that. That’s what you get for wasting your time behind a desk in Houston for so long.”
“Well I’m not in Houston anymore and I still know a good horse when I see one.” Yanking open the door, he looked over his shoulder and caught Leland glancing around at him, an undefinable gleam in his eyes. “What?” he asked, wondering at the softening around his mouth.
“Nothing. Go on. You don’t want to be late gettin’ to that club of yours. I have plenty of time to tell you I told you so.”
Shaking his head, Kurt headed to his bathroom thinking he wasn’t he only one who could use the relief from a long, vigorous fucking. He’d never hidden his sexual proclivities from Leland, but also had never discussed them openly. He was Kurt’s father, and some things didn’t change no matter how old either of them got. Noting the time was later than he’d thought, he rushed through a shower and dinner before driving out to The Barn looking forward to masquerade night. With any luck, he would finally hook up with someone who could make him forget one night over five weeks ago and one woman whose memory refused to stay in the back of his mind, where he’d delegated all the others who had come before her.
After making two trips into Billings and taking the time to stop by Leslie’s apartment only to find her not at home, he’d given up. He knew what her breathy moans sounded like when she was aroused, how soft her skin felt, how tightly her hot, slick pussy gripped his fingers and cock and could still vividly recall the despondency that had clouded her pretty blue eyes. Other than that, he knew nothing about the woman who left such a lasting impact on him. Vowing to put an end to his concern for her tonight, he entered the club in time to catch the last half of the monthly business meeting with the Masters before the doors opened to the rest of the members.
All six of his closest friends, owners of the club and Masters were congregated around the bar, laughing as Kurt entered the playroom. Looking forward to an evening of socializing and tormenting a willing submissive, he strode toward the group vowing not to let thoughts of his father or a desperate stranger intrude on his fun.
Chapter 5
“No one is going to recognize you in that outfit,” Nan said as she took in Leslie’s ankle-length white sheath dress cinched around the waist with a wide, gold belt. “When you put it all together with the fancy head piece, matching arm bands and black wig, it’s easy to guess you’re Cleopatra, but with the mask and heavily made-up eyes, even I can barely recognize your face.”
“It won’t matter if I can get the attention of one of the new Doms you told me about since I’ll still be a stranger to them.” The thought of hooking up with someone new tonight appealed to Leslie. With luck, she could put one stranger out of her mind for good with another. The new members, a doctor who had relocated to Willow Springs from Denver and a wealthy cattleman who had just returned home after living in Texas for several years, sounded interesting. Although, given the jolt she experienced upon hearing Master Wilcox’s first name was Kurt, the same as her one-night-stand stranger, she might avoid him just to keep from making unwanted comparisons.
“Tell me some more about Masters Greg and Devin’s new sub,” she prodded, taking a seat on the couch while she and Nan waited for Sydney, Avery and Tamara to emerge from the bedroom. She was still struggling to wrap her head around Nan’s engagement, trying to picture the independent, confirmed bachelorette giving up her cozy apartment above her quaint tea shop to move out to Dan’s small ranch, and now she’d learned the hot Doms who loved ménage scenes recently joined the ranks of committed members. So far, Leslie had managed to stifle the pang of regret she had experienced when each of the others had pledged fidelity to one person, but that might not last when she saw the two Masters with their new submissive.
Nan arranged the deep red satin folds of her saloon girl costume around her legs as she sat in the armchair facing the couch. “She’s really nice. It’s fun to watch them together. Kelsey is only an inch or two over five foot, small boned with big blue eyes and almost white hair. Her fey appearance doesn’t keep her from giving as good as she gets when either Greg or Devin pushes her buttons.”
“You must be talking about Kelsey.” Sydney padded into the room wearing a peasant dress, the see-through, lacy white bodice revealing her unfettered breasts and dusky nipples. “She’s my kind of girl.”
“That’s because she’s so much like you,” Avery chimed in from behind her, her abundant curves spilling out of the tight, skimpy, bright green bra that matched the sheer, billowing, hip-hugging pants of her harem outfit.
Sydney smirked. “I knew there was a reason I liked her so much.”
“Oh my God,” Nan breathed, coming to her feet as Tamara joined them decked out in a body-molding, bright fuchsia, latex cat suit. With the front zipper lowered to her waist, the plump fullness of her breasts drew the eye as much as the noticeable peeks of bare flesh under the mesh. “I have to know where you got that.”
Flushing, Tamara tossed her long black hair with a wide smile. “Think Connor will know it’s me?” She held her mask up to her eyes by the long handle.
“Yes. In that outfit, there’s no hiding your baby bump,” Sydney drawled, resting a hand on her own stomach.
Baby? Leslie’s gaze swung from admiring Tamara’s three-inch heels to her waist and then over to Sydney’s less obvious little bulge behind her loose skirt. Living with a target on her back prevented her from even thinking about having children some day and there was no stopping or ignoring the painful twist of exclusion cramping her abdomen. Forcing a smile of congratulations, she hurried over to give each of them a hug.
“I’m so happy for you both. This is what I get for staying away for so long. It’ll take me all night to get caught up with everyone.”
“Just b
e sure to save time to play.” Nan opened the door and waved everyone out. “No offense, Leslie, but you look like you could use a long session with an attentive Dom.”
“You know, I think that’s exactly what I need.” They traipsed downstairs and Leslie waved as she opened her car door. “See you there.” Settling behind the wheel, she waited until they pulled out before following them.
The charm of Willow Springs’ business square had struck Leslie when she’d driven past the century-old buildings that still housed the city offices and library on her way in. Quaint gift shops, a local diner and a center fountain squared off by towering pines made her wish she’d taken the time to visit sooner. With her new resolution to move forward and put herself out more, she made a silent promise to return soon, take Nan up on her offer of tea in her shop and check out the arts and crafts in the display windows along the covered sidewalks.
Turning off the highway onto the narrow lane leading to the club, Leslie sucked in a deep breath, vowing to get back into the groove of enjoying herself in the only way she’d found that eased the stress of keeping her true identity a secret. Just in case she wanted to bail early though, she opted for a parking space at the rear of the already crowded gravel lot. Checking her wig in the mirror, she slipped on her mask, a flutter of excitement winging through her with the thought of submitting in disguise to a new Dom. Given her previous response to a stranger, she was all for a repeat with another man she didn’t know any better than he knew her.
Leslie’s friends were already inside by the time she entered the foyer and stowed her shoes in a cubby. The two-stepping beat of a country western tune seeped through the door leading into the social hall. She’d watched members skilled in line dancing move in sync on the dance floor numerous times but never got up the nerve to join in. Her blood warmed as she entered the cavernous space and took in the activity already taking place, the two hours spent with the girls having helped put away her misplaced envy over their good fortune.
She paused a moment to get her bearings and reacclimate to seeing everyone again. Delightful ripples of excitement tingled under her skin as faint echoes of slapping flesh and soft cries emanating from the loft reached her ears while she caught sight of the arousal-stirring play going on around the tables. Spotting Sue Ellen already draped over her husband’s lap, his hand resting on her bare butt, sent a wave of heat straight down between Leslie’s legs. Clenching her own buttocks in response to the remembered pain of a hard spanking that always led to a more intense orgasm, she now questioned how she’d gone so long without getting those needs met. Padding across the wood floor trying to figure out who was who behind the disguises and enjoying the probing, scrutinizing looks from Doms who couldn’t pinpoint her identity, one thing became abundantly clear – wallowing in self-pity for close to two months had been a colossal waste of time.
Stopping at the bar, she held her breath as Caden, Sydney’s husband came strolling over, waiting to see if he recognized her. Nudging his Stetson back, he subjected her to a detailed scrutiny while holding a hand out for her drink card.
“Nice getup and you look familiar, so I know you’re a regular. What can I get you?”
“A beer, please.” Handing him the card, Leslie relaxed until his blue eyes lit with recognition.
Snapping his fingers, Caden smiled, saying, “Leslie, how the hell are you, darlin’?”
She returned his smile, warmed by his welcome. “I’m good, Sir. Was it my voice, or something else?”
Popping off the bottle cap, he squeezed the brew into a koozie, handed it over and then flicked the end of her wig. “Your voice and those baby blues. If you hadn’t stayed away from us for so long I might have recognized you sooner. It’s good to see you here again.”
“It’s good to be back, Sir,” she returned, surprised at how quickly that true statement had come about. “Thanks for the drink.”
“You’re welcome. We have a good turnout. Have fun tonight, and don’t be a stranger.” Winking, he left to serve someone else.
That was the plan, Leslie thought, sliding off the stool. Before joining the unattached subs in the sitting area waiting to catch the eye of a Master, she veered toward the dance floor to watch for a few minutes. Standing off to the side with the other onlookers, she wasn’t the only one who found it amusing to see women dressed in costumes doing the two-step alongside men wearing the usual attire for country-western dancing of tight jeans and boots, a few still wearing their Stetsons. Her gaze swept from the back row to the front and she recognized all the Doms until her eyes landed on the taut, denim-covered buttocks and broad shoulders of the man with his back to her in the front row. Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would’ve remembered any Dom who could gyrate and swivel his hips with such eye-catching, pussy-dampening talent. God, could he move, and she wondered if he was one of the new members.
Leslie damn near drooled as he two-stepped into giving her a side view of his sexy hip action that drew her nipples into stiff peaks. Dragging her eyes away from his pelvis, she caught her first glimpse of his face and stiffened at the familiarity of his dark, rugged profile. And then he executed another shuffle of his feet with knees bent, his pelvis circling in a way that pulled her gaze back down. The rhythmic rolls of his crotch conjured up an image of down and dirty fucking that prompted her to tighten her thighs to contain her response before she dared to look up again. When she did, she went cold with a shockwave of instant, face-to-face recognition. There was no mistaking the sexy Dom standing just yards in front of her, even with his black Stetson shielding his eyes, was the same Kurt as her one-night stand all those weeks ago.
What were the odds? she bemoaned as she gathered her frayed nerves and spun around before he recognized her. Leslie was halfway to the door before she slowed her hasty retreat and dared to peek around a small group of people and back at the dance floor. Her taut muscles slowly relaxed as she saw he hadn’t skipped a beat in dancing and wasn’t coming after her. He didn’t recognize me as Cleopatra. With the relief came a sudden, titillating idea. Could she work him out of her system and put an end to the plaguing dreams of their one time together by indulging in another night of anonymous sex? From the uncomfortable dampness coating her thong, she couldn’t deny watching him had stirred her up. She already knew she would respond to him, how good a Dom he was. If she concentrated on getting her needs met, of submitting to his dominance and relieving the ache that had been building since she’d seen Kurt last, she believed she could keep from revealing her identity.
With her heart pounding from the risk but still unable to walk away from this second chance, Leslie pivoted and had only taken four steps back toward the dance floor when she spotted Master Kurt walking toward her. Now holding his hat, the midnight eyes she remembered so well showed interest but not a hint of surprised recognition, bolstering her courage.
Seeing a sexy Cleopatra look-alike eying him with a wide gaze, bare toes curled against the wood floor and taut nipples had drawn Kurt’s interest in a sub for the first time that night. The white toga-style dress draped over her curves emphasized the fullness of her breasts, every bump of her rigid nubs outlined against the soft material. When she’d executed an abrupt turnaround and walked away, he’d made the snap decision to snatch her up before another Dom beat him to her.
Now, standing close enough to see her eyes were as blue as the Montana sky in summer and the shape of her face tugging at his memory banks, he wondered if she was someone he’d played with here before.
“You’re staring, Sir.”
The hint of accusation in her pert tone amused him. Kurt didn’t mind when his habit of silently sizing up a potential partner for the evening rubbed a sub the wrong way. He didn’t want someone who would let him walk all over her; just who would not only bow to his dominance, but relish whatever he tormented her with.
“Yes, I am. I’m Master Kurt. You make a lovely Cleopatra.”
“Thank you.” A small smile curved her soft lips. �
�I enjoyed watching you dance.”
Even her voice rang bells and prompted him to look closer at her features below the mask. Wanting to know more about her, he replied, “And I would enjoy getting to know you better. Are you free to join me upstairs?” A cock-stirring spark lit her eyes and his quick, uncharacteristic infatuation grew. Holding out his hand, he said, “Let’s sit while you finish your beer. I could be wrong, but you look familiar. Have we paired up before tonight?”
She tugged on his hand, halting him before he took a step toward the nearest empty table. “I’d rather go straight up, if it’s all the same with you.”
The flash of need that wiped away the spark and was, he suspected, the cause of her rash decision struck another chord of familiarity in him. “Do we know each other, sweetheart?”
Her palm turned clammy under his, and her entire arm went rigid at his simple inquiry. She shifted her gaze off to the side, a telltale sign of evasiveness that triggered more suspicions.
“No, Sir.” She looked back at him with a crooked smile. “I haven’t been here in a few weeks, but to be honest, a few of the other girls mentioned you in a very good way.”
“I’m flattered, but it would help if you’d tell me your name.” Kurt cupped her elbow and led her toward the stairs, adding, “Your real name.”
“But that will ruin the fun of remaining anonymous. Isn’t that part of the lure that prompted the Masters to plan this masquerade night?”
She had a point, he conceded, but he was ninety-nine percent sure he knew her from somewhere and was starting to suspect she didn’t want him to know that. Why, he couldn’t fathom. As they reached the loft with its dimmer lighting, reverberating soft cries and straining moans accompanying snaps against bare flesh, several ideas ran through his head on how to pull the truth from her.