by Alyssa Clark
Restraint
The Decadence Club – Book 1
By Alyssa Clark
Published by Scarlet Lantern Publishing
The following story is full of romance, fantasy and sensuality. See the preview below for a bit of foreplay.
“One,” his voice sounded harsh, and I couldn’t tell if it was in a negative fashion or not. I struck him again, not as hard as I had before just to see if he would follow through with the command. “Two,” he barked in response. I continued back with the amount of force that I started with. I spread out the strikes as I did it, alternating between the left and right cheek then making it so my hand would strike both. His growled out each strike calling out which number it was. When we got to five, I was remiss. I stood behind him, my riding crop dropped and forgotten, with a hand pressed against the small of his back. I may have been panting, and there was a throb between my thighs that I hadn’t felt in a while. Usually, I didn’t get as turned on by this with my clients.
I didn’t dwell on it, but I had to see the handy work. I pushed his underwear over his ass to get a good look at it. He tensed and looked over his shoulder at me asking, “What are you doing?” I’m thinking his desire to fuck me had diminished.
I only spared him a glance as I looked at his reddened cheeks. “I have to see,” I murmured, and I lightly rubbed a hand over one. At first, I thought his ass was a little on the lacking side, but seeing it all red had me changing my mind. “Wait here,” I straightened and advised like he had a choice. “I’ll get something to put on that.” I had a cooling lotion that would help with the stinging. Also, it would give me a chance to really inspect my work. I came back to him, his underwear still pulled down exposing his bare rump to me, and he watched me with a glare. Humiliation seemed to radiate from him. That was worrisome, because while spanking was a form a discipline, I wasn’t making an effort to humiliate him. I hummed lightly as I put a generous amount of cream on my fingertips. I then took the time to spread it on one of his battered cheeks.
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Copyright © 2018 by Alyssa Clark & Scarlet Lantern Publishing
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.
All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Prologue
Angela
I tumbled onto the bed, humming with the aftershocks of an orgasm. Kurt seemed to be just as spent, but he had his hands still cuffed above his head. That had all been his idea, the cuffs. At first we had taken turns, but after that first time being at his whims I determined it wasn’t something I enjoyed. Having him at my mercy on the other hand was thrilling in a way I couldn’t let go of.
So, we went from just to having a cheap pair of handcuffs to a pair of leather cuffs that were more secure and offered more versatility with just how they could restrain him. That’s when I found the fetish site and forum, it was a virtual wealth of information from every walk of life. It covered so much that I couldn’t fathom just what I wanted to do.
I saw the word punishment and our collection grew. I had a flogger and a riding crop that I used on Kurt with gusto.
And he let me.
He let me hurt him until he was howling with just how much it hurt. There were no complaints about how hard I hit him or how I used him while he was vulnerable, shackled to our bed. I got high off the feeling of power it gave me, it only made me want to punish him more. It made me want to push the boundaries of just how much he would be willing take.
And that’s where the strap on came into play.
So, after I recovered enough to free him, I was a little surprised when he went digging through bedside drawer instead of just throwing the leather cuffs in there like he usually would. It didn’t bother me, this was all stuff I had already used on him, or he had seen at some point.
Except he pulled up short, “What the fuck?”
I sat up on my knees and looked over his shoulder to investigate what got his attention. He held it, the strap on, still in its obnoxiously bright pink packaging. I hadn’t bothered to open it and sanitize it yet, I figured it would be better to say something about it before I pulled it out. I couldn’t see his face to judge his reaction. “What’s a matter?”
He stood up quickly, dropping the box. He didn’t answer me at first, just seemed to be in a rush to get dress. “This,” when he finally got his jeans on he started to talk. “This isn’t going to work.”
“What?” I was caught off guard.
“This isn’t going to work,” he said again, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “It’s been fun. I’m going to crash with a friend. I’ll get the rest of my stuff when I can find a new place.”
Really he was going to break up and move out like that? “Wait,” I stood, not bothering to cover my nudity. “Can’t we talk about this?” I paused to pick up the dropped strapon, “You’re going to run out because you found this?”
“You’re taking it too far,” he didn’t bother to look at me. “Every time we have sex you just take on more shit and yea… that’s too far.”
“I can return this,” I argued, trying to get him to stop, because now that he was dressed he was throwing his clothes into a bag. “We don’t have to use this, and you don’t have to walk out.” This had been his idea, he had started this. Now it was too much, now I was going too far. “I thought we were having fun. Now I’ve gone too far?”
“That,” he pointed at the box I held in my hand. “Is too far. And let’s be honest. This has been going downhill for a while now,” he threw his bag onto his shoulder. He left it at that, walking out of the bedroom.
I didn’t get a kiss, a goodbye. Nothing.
It left me confused, hurt. Angry.
I had been having fun, enjoying what we were doing. Obviously, I went wrong somewhere, I assumed too much, and he went running. Yet, despite it being too much for Kurt, I wasn’t ready to give up on the fun that I had been having. While it might have been easier to find another man that would let me experiment on him, I had other ideas. All of them stemmed from a thread I found on a fetish forum.
Submissive looking for part-time dominant, willing to pay for services.
Somewhere a light went on.
I could get paid to do this for people. I enjoyed doing it to Kurt, what I did to him was just a fraction of what I wanted to do. It was obvious, now, that he wasn’t into it. I could, however, easily find someone to replace him, that much was obvious now.
My hurt feelings would hea,l and my thirst for this lifestyle would be sated.
1
Angela
After some trial and error, I managed to figure things out. Kurt became forgotten in the adventure of learning a new lifestyle. I took up watching instructional videos and reading blogs, joining forums. Determining rules, there was a guideline that was offered that ensured the safety of subs. Then advertising, putting myself out there as a domme for hire.
I man
aged to find myself a sub, then two, that garnered my services for a significant fee. To keep it legal sex wasn't involved. But, going through a forum, they aren't what I would have hoped for. They weren’t the young men with the bods I hoped for. Both were middle-aged men suffering from what I assumed to be a midlife crisis I've also had a few female inquiries, but I wasn't quite comfortable with making that leap. I was curious, I'll admit, just not quite ready to take a bite out of that hook.
My first and most loyal sub is Mr. Franklin. He was a banker, I think, in his fifties and married. Despite him ‘seeing’ me, he was devoted to his wife. He was just unsure how to broach the subject of what he wanted on this level with her. But, he had no problems addressing his wants with me. “There is something about giving control to a beautiful woman, between our visits I sleep soundly and my blood pressure is less of an issue,” he admitted to me once after a session when he was able to be open and direct about his feelings. Being open was important, our dynamic was all about trust.
Our sessions mostly involved tame moments, him restrained while I used various tools to discipline him. He was attractive in his own way, but I wasn't sexually attracted. Not that it mattered with what he paid me.
We were just finishing up a session, he was redressing, and I was taking the time to help him. I welted up his back a little too much, and he moved slowly as if he ached. I worried that I had misjudged the force I used on him. I had already smoothed a lotion that was supposed to help with aches onto his battered skin, but he was still slow going. I didn't hear any complaints. I slipped his linen shirt over his shoulders and stepped around him to start buttoning it up. It amused me to be in my leather bustier, lacy boy shorts, and ass-kicking heels while I helped him dress in a three-piece suit.
“You're to relax the rest of the day,” I said in a tone the gave no room for argument. “No overextending yourself.” As soon as I finished buttoning his shirt, he tucked it into his pants, and I plucked up his tie. “If the wife is feeling frisky, I won’t discourage you from meeting her needs, but it will probably be in your best interest to allow positions where she is on top and in control.”
“If I allow her to have a position of control sexually, don't you think that will endanger your position in my life?” He chuckled as I expertly knotted his tie.
It was hard to resist not tugging on it as if it were a leash, “Your wife should be your first priority. If she were to find out what you and I do, it's likely she wouldn't stay with you. I refuse to be a homewrecker, and I can't offer you the emotional support your wife does.” He looked as if he were listening seriously, “It's in your best interest to persuade your wife into taking my position. It will strengthen your relationship.” His tie fixed and straight, I went to fetch his vest and jacket, “Take the day to recover. Then I expect you to worship your wife as you do me.” He lifted his arms, and I fitted the vest on him then the jacket, “If I find out you haven't I will punish you accordingly.”
I could see the excitement light up in his eyes at the prospect of what that might entail. We finished dressing him and making sure that he looked as impeccable leaving as he did when he arrived. “I will do the homework that you've assigned,” he smiled then looked somewhat hesitant as I went about gathering the implements that I used against him during our session. I would spend the next few hours in this hotel room cleaning them as well as any other evidence as to what we did here.
I had my cleaner out of my travel case when I noticed him watching, “Was there something else?” Though, there may be something to watching a woman in leather lingerie tidying up a hotel room.
“I gave your card to a colleague,” he swallowed as if he were nervous about my reaction. “I did not tell him what exactly you do, but I did say that you helped with my stress and blood pressure.”
“Our involvement is a professional, private arrangement,” I assured him, and he looked visibly relieved. “Was there anything else?”
“No, no,” he smiled and came to kiss my cheek. “You have put me at ease, darling. I have a meeting to get to. I will see you again soon.”
And with that, he left me.
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning my equipment and going on to scrub up any stains that I could find on the carpet.
2
Matt
I was just starting out at my first real firm that wasn’t charity based. I was eager to get work done and learn what I could from the older partners. Things they didn't teach you at school about dealing with clients and the pressure of leading a case. I hadn't handled my first one, yet, but I had been assisting Allen Franklin and his small team of paralegals for three months. So far, he hadn't taught me anything I didn't already know. It felt like he was holding me back and it was starting to eat away at the little patience I had.
“Let me take on more,” I said, confronting him the day after we had a meeting with a client. The client was suing for malpractice on what she thought was a botched injection. Franklin and I weren't so sure she hadn't botched the healing process herself. No one liked to be wrong, so because she had the money, she thought it was alright to sue.
“If you put too much on your plate, more than you can handle you will find yourself either balding or going gray before you're thirty,” he looked up at me with a smile, he had a head full of gray hair, and his mustache and goatee had started to follow suit. “Too much and the stress will kill you.”
“The only stress I feel right now is your decision to treat me as if I were still fresh from college,” I frowned as I eyed the wall of degrees and achievements he had. The only thing I had on my office wall was my diploma. There were no plaques or letters from big names that were worthy enough to frame. “It's hard to build a name for yourself when someone is holding you back.”
“The next one you can lead,” he sounded like he was giving in as he stood. He made it like he was doing me a favor, “With the way Miss Owens keeps talking, and her story keeps altering itself, it's a good chance that this one will fall through.” He came to me and gave my shoulder a solid pat, “How about I take this loss instead of you?”
I tried to keep my frustration from showing but nodded nonetheless. “You calling it an early day?”
“I have a private appointment to attend to,” he said simply. “Something I do for my blood pressure and stress from taking on far too much too soon.”
I grimaced, I had a feeling he was probably cheating on his wife. It was something I had noticed with a professor. They would end class early to tend to an ‘appointment’ that would usually be to bend students over their desk. Something about being in a position of power that too many people took advantage of. Here I was, having to suffer through it simply because the firm head thought I could use a mentor. I tried to mask my disgust, but I think he caught it because he gave me a sharp look. “You have a problem?”
I shrugged my shoulders and went to open the door for him, “Not at all. Enjoy your appointment.”
He made a noise and took the time to pull out his wallet, offering me a card. “Save your judgments. If you are so curious about what my appointment is, feel free to investigate it. I’ve got nothing to hide from you,” with that said he left me standing alone in his office.
I looked at the card curiously, seeing only a name on it and a number. Angela Winters. It could be an escort, I went to my own office as I considered the simple card. Or it could be a masseuse. Why would he give me the card to a prostitute he was seeing? I found my way through the maze of offices and cubicles until I could find my own closet that had been assigned to me. I sat at my desk and tucked the card into my planner. I wouldn’t bother with it. It wasn't really my business.
It was a week later, after a long sleepless night that I found the card again. I stared at it, finding the curiosity gnawing at me. At worse, it was a prostitute. As sickening as the idea was to me of sharing a woman with someone who was essentially my boss, it had been more time than I’d like to admit since the last time I had sex. Relationshi
ps weren't something I had focused on during school, or now that I was struggling to find a foothold in the career I decided to pursue.
Was I desperate? Not yet, but the need to know got the best of me. I picked up the phone from my desk and punched in the number.
3
Angela
It was well over a week since Mr. Franklin admitted to handing over my card to another person before I had an unfamiliar number calling my work phone. I kept two cells, a personal one that friends and family had and my work phone. I was sitting on my bed painting my toenails a pretty pale pink, something little less severe than the bright red I usually sported. I had no appointments for the rest of the week, so I thought I could soften up. It was time to relax and pamper myself.