With Hearts Aflame: Valentine's Day Box Set

by Maren Smith

  Grabbing her weekender bag from the back seat, she doubled-checked the contents. As instructed, she'd brought a change of clothes—skirt and blouse, high heels, lace bra and panties. The final two had not been on the list, but she assumed they were okay for dinner in public. Written in a bold scrawl across the back of the class flyer, the requests were clear; loose hair, minimal jewelry and makeup were also dictated. With such detail, maybe she should forego the bra and panties. Stepping out of the car, she resigned herself to being at loose ends for a while, as her questions definitely outnumbered her answers. Hopefully, the class would change that.

  Entering The Club today was quite different than the first time, mostly because she was dressed in normal clothes not bondage gear. She'd chosen black yoga pants and a pink and black tank. Although her arms were bare and the spandex blend clothing form-fitting, all her important parts were covered. She didn't have to worry that her ass or boobs would fall out at an inopportune moment unlike the corset and leather skirt she'd worn the other night. As instructed, her outfit allowed free movement and the application of restraints. Holy cripes—restraints!

  Following the others inside, she hoped they knew where they were going. Down two flights of stairs they came to a landing with two doors, one labeled "management only" and the other "Members and Guests." The door they passed through led to the main lobby. About twenty people had gathered, all dressed similarly to herself.

  Three people entered from the lounge and ushered everyone inside, instructing them to be seated in even-numbered groups unless they were part of a threesome or pre-approved larger group. As they paired off, Val was left alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. She looked toward the instructors, feeling at a loss and slightly pathetic. It was like being in grade school and not being picked for the kickball game. Could she participate without a partner?

  "Miss Thornton?" a soft-spoken woman asked. She appeared to be around twenty-five years old and wore a collar around her throat. She also wore shiny spandex that appeared to be painted on.

  "You were a late addition to the class so we have an odd number. We were able to secure a partner for you, but he won't be able to join us for a while. Please take a seat at one of the tables and he will be along shortly." She indicated a table near the back and then went to stand with the others at the front of the class.

  "Good afternoon, and welcome to Decadence LA. I am Master Thomas. My co-instructor is Mistress Tara, and Julie, her submissive, has volunteered to assist with the demonstrations today. We have a good-sized group so please be respectful of who is speaking. No side conversations or distractions because we have a lot to cover." They passed out booklets that contained the house rules, sample contracts, illustrations of slave positions and a glossary of common BDSM terms. Val eagerly thumbed through it, pleased when she saw it was exactly what she'd been looking for.

  Excited voices caught her attention and she looked up to see why. Master Eric, looking as delicious in dark jeans and a long-sleeved tee as he did in the more formal attire he'd worn the other night, had entered the lounge. He was a treat for the eyes, and she practically drooled as her gaze swept over each mouth-wateringly handsome feature. The scruff of a beard enhanced his firm jaw and full, kissable lips. His broad shoulders were encased in tight jersey cotton that clung to him like a second skin. His sleeves were pushed up revealing tanned, muscular forearms. Val's eyes dropped to his hands. He had barely touched her on Friday, but his hands had starred in her fantasies ever since. Imagining him intimately exploring her body made a tingle of awareness flare to life between her thighs, and she watched him tuck a hand into his front pocket and pull out his electronic pass card. He was saying something about it, but her attention wandered, fixating on his zippered fly. His jeans hugged him closely and she prayed there would be a reason for him to turn around. Hoping for a view off his ass in denim, she imagined how to make that happen. Maybe she could drop something so he would bend over to pick it up. Startled by a burst of laughter, she was instantly alert.

  "So, welcome to Decadence LA and enjoy your introduction to BDSM."

  Uh-oh! She hadn't heard a word he'd said. With any luck, it wouldn't come back to haunt her. Eric turned the class back over to Master Thomas, before moving to the back of the lounge. Was he leaving? He hadn't acknowledged her or made eye contact once. Maybe she had gotten the wrong impression. She looked down at her booklet, the hurt so strong she was oblivious to Master Thomas' instructions and all activity going on around her. She didn't sense the presence behind her until large hands cupped her shoulders.

  "I will join you for the demonstration portion, sweet subbie. Pay attention now. There will definitely be a test later." The warmth of Eric's breath brushed across her ear, fluttering tendrils of hair and instantly making her nipples achy and tight. With a gentle squeeze, he was gone. A riot of emotion swamped her senses, anticipation, arousal, exhilaration and she lapsed easily back into her daydreams of Eric.

  "Miss Thornton?"

  Giggling assailed her ears. When she looked up, Mistress Tara stood directly in front of her.

  "Are we boring you?"

  "Uh, no ma'am."

  "No, Mistress Tara," she suggested.

  "No, Mistress Tara, I'm anything but bored."

  "Then you must know all there is to know about the lifestyle to be so inattentive. Care to explain the concept of safe, sane, and consensual?"

  "Um, I have a general idea but your instruction would be much more comprehensive, I'm sure."

  "Humor me." The Domme crossed her arms and waited as the class once again tittered, thoroughly, enjoying Val being called out by the testy Mistress. It was like being back in seventh-grade English. Mistress Tara even bore a striking resemblance to her intimidating teacher, Miss Ellerman, who had a tendency to paddle first and ask questions later.

  "Now, Miss Thornton, or we will have an early demonstration of paddling techniques."

  "Yes, Mistress, safe, sane and consensual is a BDSM philosophy which includes practices like safewords and condoms to ensure the safety and well-being of both participants. Sane includes an adherence to agreed-upon activities and the prohibition of others that might result in harm, both physical and emotional, to either party." Pausing, Val silently thanked Eric for showing her the contract and limit list earlier or she would have been clueless.

  "Go on," Tara said impatiently.

  "Consensual means obtaining consent before a scene or activity starts. It can extend to a contract between a Dom and sub, as well. The sub or Dom can withdraw consent at any time during a scene by calling their safeword."

  Master Thomas spoke then. "Excellent, Miss Thornton. You seem too well-versed in the philosophy to be in the beginner's class."

  "I have conceptual knowledge, Master Thomas, but no practical experience."

  Tara stepped closer and bent down. "Don't think because Eric has taken an interest in you that you are safe from my discipline. Read your booklet carefully, sweetie. Your classroom agreement includes corporal punishment as needed." She stroked Val's hair, pushing it away from her face, and leered tauntingly. "You are a tasty little morsel that I'd love to have beneath my quirt."

  A soft voice from behind interrupted, and they looked up to see Julie standing nervously behind her Domme. "Mistress," she said respectfully. "Master Samson asked me to remind you that the newbies are off limits to you."

  Tara stiffened and stood upright. "I realize that, Julie, no need to remind me." Standing, she straightened her black leather dress before walking back to the front.

  "Thank you," Val whispered. "She's pretty scary. I imagine it was difficult warning her like you did. Isn't she also married to Samson?"

  "Yes. Tara is a switch. She tops me, and Samson tops us both. I'll fill you in later. I better get back."

  For the rest of the classroom-style lecture, she did her best to pay attention but kept getting distracted by visions of Eric alternating with startling images of Samson topping his two women.

  T
he next thing she knew the group was moving, collecting their belongings and heading into the members area. They were shown to the locker rooms where they stored all their personal items, taking the keys like at a bus terminal. If they became members, Master Thomas explained, they would be given a combination lock because often they would not have a place to pocket a key. That had produced a round of laughter from the student Doms and looks of dread from the subs.

  When Val exited the women's locker room, she found Eric waiting, his shoulder propped against an ornately carved archway. He crooked a finger and waited for her to come to him. She padded his way, noticing how her bare feet sank into the plush carpeting. The costly flooring, the marble in the bathrooms, along with the bronze and brushed nickel accents throughout were decadent—thus the fitting club name.

  "Ready to get some hands-on experience?"

  "Yes, Sir. I'm nervous but excited all the same."

  "Don't be nervous; you're at the fun part. Tell me, though, what are you to call me in my dungeon?" Looking around in confusion, she saw that the archway where they stood was indeed inside the main playroom.

  "I didn't realize…" Looking up, she saw that although his face was serious, he had a twinkle in his eye. Was he teasing? "I'm sorry, Master Eric. I didn't realize we were in your dungeon. I'll try to remember."

  He merely nodded at her apology, as if it was his due. Then taking her by the hand, they joined the group in the center of the room. Julie was walking amongst the students passing out cuffs and collars. When she approached Eric, Val saw him shake his head and produce a pair of white leather cuffs. She hadn't even noticed them clipped to his belt. Lined with soft black fur, they fit snugly but comfortably against her skin as he secured them to her wrists.

  "Lift your hair for me." Obeying without question, her breath caught in the next second when she felt his fingers brush her throat. Her lungs ceased to work as his warm breath teased her skin where he bent to clasp the thin collar around her neck.

  "Breathe," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear before he rose to his full height.

  How on earth did he expect her to do that?

  Master Thomas directed the students to select a station and wait for further instruction. Eric wasted no time moving her along to a spanking bench toward the back of the room.

  "Mount up, sweetness," he ordered, patting the top.

  She eyed the padded sawhorse, noting the kneelers and arm rests. "Shouldn't we wait for further instruction as he said?" Of course she knew how ridiculous her question sounded. He was the Master Dom for cripes sake, but she was nervous, and delaying the inevitable seemed entirely rational.

  "You need to relax, Valerie. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want." She nodded, letting out a shuddering breath. "Now up on the bench, and no more stalling."

  He was adjusting the height of the bench with a foot pedal when Mistress Tara walked up behind them.

  "You have a naughty little subbie there, boss. She was daydreaming in class rather than learning the necessary safety rules. I suggested to Master Thomas that we have her return for the next session, but he said to run it past you first."

  "Hm… That's very disappointing." Val watched as he snapped the D link on her cuffs to the rings imbedded in the bench. When he rose, he looked down at her, his expression neutral. His hand brushed across her cheek gently, trailing down her back before coming to rest on the full curve of her bottom. He patted her gently while answering the Domme's question. "I'll handle this, Mistress Tara. Never fear, she will be quite proficient in this topic by the end of today's session."

  "But," she began, halting abruptly. Val wondered at the silent interaction that was going on behind her because the woman eventually muttered, "Yes, Boss." The creak of the leather tapering to silence was the only indication Val had that she'd walked away. Was that disappointment in her voice? The woman had taken an instant dislike to her, for some reason. Was it her inattention in class or was it something else—jealousy maybe—of Eric or Samson, or could it be of Julie? Had she seen them whispering?

  She'd have to figure it out later because right now, Eric was sorting through a duffel bag that was resting on the floor near the bench. When he stood, Val saw that he held a large round paddle, a flogger, and what she guessed was a crop, although she'd never seen one before in person. Holy heavens, was she ready for this?

  "I thought the class would be a good introduction to BDSM and the lifestyle, Valerie. For that to happen, you need to pay attention. Now we will have to repeat the lesson. To keep you on track with your classmates, we'll just have to combine the implement introduction with the safety instructions. Any questions?"

  "No, Master Eric." Her voice was breathy with arousal as well as a good dose of anxiety.

  "First, let's discuss safewords. You should be asked this question before every scene. If you are not asked, this indicates that your Dom is distracted or that he is negligent. In that case, you should end the scene immediately, because he is not fit to play with that evening. So, what is your safeword, little subbie?"

  Struggling to remember what was said in class, she paused. Obviously, it was too long for his liking because a hand came swiftly down on her bottom with a resounding smack. The thin layer of nylon panties and lightweight yoga pants provided little protection from the sizzling hot power of his hard hand. When she remained silent other than a small inhalation of breath, he repeated the swat to her other cheek.

  "I'm afraid I don't know, Master Eric. I wasn't paying attention."

  "What could have been more interesting than learning about how to keep yourself safe? It was you who alleged such an avid interest."

  "Mistress Tara was right. I was daydreaming."

  "Naughty girl," his husky voice rumbled as two more crisp swats landed. This time they were lower and triggered a tingling response in her nearby core. "What were you dreaming about?"

  "I… um, well—"

  He applied four more quick swats. "We'll have to curb your tendency for stalling. I'm not always in a patient mood." Picking up the paddle, he held it where she could see it and asked her again. "What were you dreaming about?"

  "You, Master Eric. I was dreaming of you."

  "Ah… Pleasant dreams, I hope."

  "Yes, Sir." The paddle came down swiftly at her mistake. "Master," she breathed. His attention had created a pleasant warmth on her skin, the sting from the paddle adding to the heat. She actually found it preferable to his hard hand. What was uncomfortable was the ache that was building between her thighs, and her cleft that had begun to tingle. She squirmed, trying to get relief.

  "Be still," he ordered, rubbing the paddle in firm strokes across every enflamed part of her bottom. "This leather paddle is mild in impact and sting. It is more of a sensual implement, not in the least bit effective for punishment."

  "I was thinking the same thing, Master."

  "It's probably unwise to admit that to me, subbie. Now, back to the topic at hand—safewords—here at Decadence, we use the traditional stoplight. Couples and players of course are allowed to develop their own, but as with Marco and Lyla, private safewords are not effective in a public scene when no one else knows them. We'll just stick to The Club's standard. Understood?"

  "Yes, Master. I'm green."

  He chuckled softly. "That's good to know, sweet subbie, but I didn't ask you."

  "Oh—" She'd just acknowledged how eager she was to continue.

  "So, now that we've established that green means you're ready to go, yellow means slow down, you need a break or you're scared. We'll pause and discuss whatever is wrong, then like with a traffic light, proceed with caution. Red of course means stop. Everything stops and the scene ends until we have discussed everything calmly and resolved the issue completely. Is that clear?"

  "Very clear, Master."

  "Good girl. Ten with the paddle to start then, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, he applied the round paddle to her backside, delivering each solid stroke with a resoun
ding thwack. After the fourth, he stopped.

  "Eric?" she yelped in shock as he lowered her pants to the tops of her thighs.

  "Hush. I can't see what I'm doing when you're covered. Nor can you get the full effect." He tugged her bikini panties up between her cheeks, exposing her full rounded bottom. She could feel the cool air brush her warm skin. "Now that is so much better."

  A brush of something soft skimmed slowly over her backside. It felt heavenly, and she sighed with pleasure.

  "Do you like that, little one?"

  "Oh yes, Master. Is that… fur?"

  "Yes, the contrasting sensations and textures can be a very sensual experience." Alternating leather and fur, he applied the final six swats. His hand soon followed, caressing softly. "Spanks are always given on bare bottoms, so that I can assess all your responses, the delicious color of your skin as it changes from creamy white… to pink… to rosy red. I need to feel how the temperature changes from cool… to warm… to hot."

  Val knew he could hear her labored breathing. She wouldn't be surprised if he could also hear the pounding of her heart as it rapidly surged the blood to her swelling breasts and peaked nipples. The rush of heat as it flowed to her lower belly brought on a throbbing, aching response. If he touched her there, he would know that her pussy was flooding with her natural juices.

  As if on cue, Eric's fingertips skimmed over the bunched up panties covering her sensitive center. "This very interesting area is where I will gauge your response. When your pretty pussy is a rosy pink and your lovely lips have become swollen, your sensitive clit will throb and glisten with your essence and you'll squirm and beg beneath my hands. All of that will tell me I'm doing my job."

  "You are doing an excellent job now. Please, touch me more."

  "Hmm… A reward? I think not, naughty girl." With that statement, he removed his hand, the loss of his touch making her whimper in disappointment.

  "But why?"

  "A sub that forgets her manners doesn't get a reward." He approached the head of the bench and crouched down to her level. A soothing hand brushed the hair from her eyes and then cupped her chin, angling her face so she could see his eyes. His face was warm and open, but he looked determined as well. "Have you forgotten where you are?"